kate storm 04 - witches dont back down (4 page)

I've had drop dead gorgeous clients before. Both human and non. Most people need some help in love. The smart ones come to me.

Nina also didn't appear cynical or wishful.

She seemed upbeat, confident, sexy, and I still wanted to tuck her into my pocket, despite my vexation with Al's flirtation.

I was totally confused until I shook her hand.

Then I was just scared.

I couldn't get a read on her at all.

****

I can always get a read on someone once I shake their hand. It's pure habit by now and I never even think about it. I shake someone's hand, whisper my truth spell and see what I can see.

Unfortunately, a lot of what I read from a person is rather negative. That's not a blanket statement on humanity. I'm a matchmaker. People come to me when they've struck out at home plate. This tends to make people have doubts about themselves and they feel as if they're the last bristle on the broomstick. And by people, I mean humans.

The HC are totally different. Because the HC are immortal, I often deal with beings that have been around for centuries. They have a totally different mindset. The HC are usually bored, sometimes lonely, and once I had a gnome who was terrified of the dark. Gnomes live underground so I understood this was a significant issue for him. However, a warm bed partner was not going to solve his phobia. I sent him to a therapist.

It no longer surprises me when clients try to solve their own problems by throwing themselves into a relationship.

What does surprise me are those willing to use black magic.

It's called black magic for a reason. It's bad. It will tarnish your soul. And it will turn you over to the bad side the longer you use it.

I'm not talking Luke Skywalker's bad side. I'm talking demons, boogeymen, stuff of your nightmares, evil bad side.

Désirée Norma-Sue's ex-fiancé had used black magic. I hadn't been able to get a read on him either. He'd creeped me out.

Nina Georgette didn't creep me out. Even knowing she was using black magic, I had a hard time believing it.

She was just so beautiful and vibrant. And vexingly sexy.

I know the old adage about appearances being deceiving and all, but this was almost impossible for me to believe.

"Are you full nymph?" I'd heard of a few warlocks who had managed to create a masking spell that actually worked. For a few minutes.

"Yes." Nina smiled. Her violet eyes lit up. With pure pleasure, there was nothing dark or evil lurking in her eyes.

She tugged at her hand and I had to let go.

I couldn't continue to hold her hand.

That would be inappropriate for a business witch. Plus, just plain weird.

Frog warts. I'd felt a pulse too. She was definitely among the living. No one had killed her and then reanimated her. That's black magic also. And it would have explained a lot.

I was utterly baffled.

"Are ya lookin' for a date, Doll?"

Oh shit.

"Why, yes. Yes, I am." She fluttered her lashes at Al.

Double shit.

I pulled Al closer to my body. I had more things to worry about than why Nina Georgette was using black magic. She was looking for a match and Al appeared ready to sign up. He might be a very small Chihuahua, but he was also an extremely thick headed hitman. Nina might be charmed for the moment, but Al was deadly serious.

I had to find out everything I could about Nina Georgette.

I knew all too well what lengths Al would go to when he was in love.

I had an hour and a half before my next scheduled client.

"Please, follow me." I led her into my HC office, set Al on my desk where he could admire her but not get physically close to her and pulled out my questionnaire.

I rely mostly on my magic when I'm interviewing clients. However, recently, it has come to my attention that my magic doesn't quite cover everything.

I know. I know. Shocking, isn't it?

Magic can do, well, magical things. It can see into the heart of a person. After all, love requires a little bit of magic to work.

Magic does not cover bedroom activities. That's chemistry. Pheromones, desire, wants and needs. And let me tell you, there are a lot of hinky wants and needs out there. So now I use my magic and my questionnaire and I cover all the bases.

Not that I actually planned to take Nina on as a client. I'd never match anyone who used black magic. But I had to keep up appearances. And find out as much as I could about her.

Turns out, I could have filled in the questionnaire myself, provided I used the most average and boring answers ever.

Except when it came to hair and eye color. At that point Nina had winked at Al and said black hair and brown eyes.

I didn't need my truth spell to tell me she was lying. No one–no matter what species–could possibly be as boring and dull as Nina described for her perfect match.

She even went so far as to list a preference for reading physics books. Honestly, no one aside from actual rocket scientists read those books.

Nina Georgette didn't really want me to find her a match. She'd created someone who didn't exist. She'd given me an impossible task.

And then she arranged for another appointment.

I was stumped, confused and totally ticked off. Not only was she clearly trying to use me for something, Al continued to flirt shamelessly with her.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief when she walked out my door.

"She's somethin', isn't she?" Al asked over his shoulder. He stood on his hind feet with his front paws resting on the bottom glass pane of my front door watching Nina Georgette walk away.

"She's using black magic, Al." I scooped him up and walked him back into my HC office.

"Black magic, huh?"

Oh, for Spirit's sake. Now he was even more intrigued. Trust the hitman to be attracted to a nymph with a dark side.

"This is serious, Al." I turned him around so I could look directly into his bulging, brown eyes. "You know how scary black magic is."

Al is a very protective Chihuahua. He'd been ready to tear into Désirée Norma-Sue's ex-fiancé. I've always appreciated and valued Al's loyalty towards myself.

I just wished he'd apply some of that caution and protection towards his own self.

"What about getting in touch with your animal side?" I was desperate. I still did not think that Al should attempt any of the activities described on the TV show last night, but taking down a wild squirrel beat black magic any day.

Al leaned forward, set his tiny paws on my cheeks and gave me a sweet lick on the lips.

"It's overrated, Doll."

4. Redneck Secretaries and a Nemesis.

Désirée Norma-Sue arrived at work about an hour after the nymph left.

She works very hard when she's at work and I'm not a picky boss. She was also rather upset when she arrived. I decided to forego any comment on work hours. And evil nymphs for the moment.

"What's wrong?"

Désirée threw her purse on her desk and placed her hands on her hips. "Phil and I got a ticket Friday night."

Désirée Norma-Sue speaks with a long, drawn out Southern drawl. Like a slow pour of molasses, you have to be patient. She takes her time and some words have a thicker accent than others.

"I heard."

"I can't believe the small mindedness of some . . . You heard about it already?" Désirée had clearly planned to work herself into a frenzy. My comment threw a wrench into her vent. "How did you hear? Who told you?"

I couldn't decide if she was more upset that I already knew or if she was excited that the news was spreading so quickly.

Fairies love to be the center of attention.

"Morgan."

Désirée frowned. "I thought she had already left by then. She was pretty upset when they unplugged the karaoke machine."

"I heard that, too."

Désirée Norma-Sue tapped her left foot. She was wearing teal today. From head to toe. She'd dyed her curls and put them into two side pigtails. The color of her curls perfectly matched her skintight bodysuit and knee high boots. The bodysuit encased her from her neck to her wrists and all the way down into her boots. She looked as if someone had poured the outfit onto her. One skintight inch at a time. She could get away with it. Désirée Norma-Sue was tiny. She didn't have any extra jello. Not a single lump.

"Well, damn. I wanted to be the fairy with the news."

I thought she was the fairy with the smokin' bod which trumped good gossip any day. But Désirée looked seriously put out so I kept my mouth shut.

"I wouldn't be too upset," I consoled her. "I checked Phil's video after I spoke with Morgan. He's had another fifty thousand hits since it happened."

"Really?" Désirée clapped her hands and skipped over to her desk.

The clapping prompted me. "Désirée, do you know any nymphs in town?"

Désirée Norma-Sue and Phil were both full members of the HC world. They were privy to information I was not.

"A nymph?" Désirée tilted her head to one side as she looked at me. Her pigtails kept their shape and moved sideways with her head. "No. I can't think of any. All the nymphs I've ever known have lived close to the water."

That's what I'd thought, but I had never met an actual nymph before; I dropped out of high school when I was a young witch. There were gaps in my knowledge base. Something my Aunt Tabs never failed to remind me of.

"I think there are some forest nymphs, but they all live in Canada."  Désirée Norma-Sue moved her head back up right. Her pigtails followed suit. "Why? What do you need with a nymph?"

"I don't need one, but one stopped in today."

"An actual nymph was here?" She looked around as if she expected her to be hiding behind the waiting room chairs. "That's so cool."

She snapped her fingers in front of her body, all
you go, girlfriend.
"The word is getting out about your skills, Kate."

"She was using black magic."

"Oh, shit."

"And Al flirted with her."

Al had gone to take a nap on the large pillow I kept in my office for him. I'd just checked on him. He was sound asleep.

"That stinker." She scowled. "Was he trying to make you jealous again?"

"No. He was serious this time."

"Well, shit." With her Southern accent, Désirée managed to add in three extra syllables to the word
shit
.

I would have laughed, because it summed up exactly how I felt, but I was too upset to laugh. I couldn't even work up a decent cackle.

"Did you tell him she was bad?" Désirée had her hands on her hips now.

"Yes. It only seemed to add to her appeal."

"Huh. Hitmen. Go figure."

I thought about it for another second.

Well,
sh-ee-ee-t.

****

I had to pull my head together after my chat with Désirée Norma-Sue. I didn't have any more time to look up helpful information on Morgause or Ash's sin, lust. I had a business to run and two new clients–whose files I had yet to look at–to meet with. Then I had some serious worrying to do about Nina Georgette.

I wasn't even close to starting my worries over Al. We had a complicated and multi-layered relationship. At times I'm sure it bordered on dysfunctional.

That didn't bother me.

I'm a half-bred, cursed witch caught between two different communities.
Dysfunctional
and I have been close since birth.

The interview went smoothly with my first new client. He belonged to a local motorcycle club and his vice-president had referred him. I'd recently matched Snake, the motorcycle club vice-president, and he'd started sending hopefuls my way. Snake's proved to be a True Love match, which I used to think was crazy rare. But I've been finding more and more True Love matches ever since and it gave me such hope. It made me think magic was making a comeback. Maybe not a huge one, but at least it was coming back. It had all but disappeared in the last couple of centuries.

For the most part, witches and warlocks have been the only ones using it.

Oh and bad nymphs.

So I was very hopeful I might be able to find Ant Leroy Johnson his True Love.

On paper he looked pretty good. He had a steady income, owned his own house and didn't have any outstanding warrants. Almost unheard of for a member of this particular motorcycle club.

On the other hand he did have a fetish for shoes. As fetishes go, that's not a bad one. And he only liked to look at the shoes. He didn't fondle them or lick them or rub them over his body. Basically he just really, really liked women's shoes.

I wouldn't have even put it into the fetish category except he had a picture of a thigh-high, lace up, red boot as his screen-saver on his phone. And a tattoo of a black four-inch heel with a red bow on his forearm.

Every time I glanced at it, I wondered how it went over with the rest of the club.

At any rate, I didn't think it would be hard to find him a woman who loved shoes. I usually just checked yes in that box and didn't even bother to ask for my female clients.

My questionnaire is quite detailed.

As I go over the questionnaire, I work my spells embroidered on the wing chair my clients sit on. And I adjust the answers as needed.

Then, after the client leaves, I cast another spell to determine which charm group to put him or her in. My charm groups are similar to the human astrological signs. Complimentary signs, or charms, will get along and possibly fall in love. Opposing signs, or charms, will not get along and could end up in prison after a murder charge.

From the charm groups, I separate my clients down into human vs humanly-challenged, hetero vs homosexual and serious vs using me as an escort service.

I am not a pimp. I refuse to set up booty calls. If someone has an itch, they need to find their own way to scratch it. I'm a matchmaker. Period.

And it's my magic that finds the best possible match.

Matchmaking is a talent in my coven. And it's something I've been taking advantage of for the past few years.

I'm good at it. Not just good, but fabulous. It's my passion.