kate storm 04 - witches dont back down (5 page)

It satisfies a part of me. A part of my soul. And a large part of my heart. It helps to balance the rest of me that has been ostracized and belittled all my life for who and what I am.

And in the aching, empty hole in my heart, I know my mom would be proud.

Unfortunately, the interview didn't go quite as well with my second new client.

1) She was a member of the HC. I service both communities so I've had HC clients before. It usually isn't an issue. For me. But 2) She was a witch. I'd gone to the Witch Academy with her. Her name was Lana. And she was a major contributing factor to my dropping out of high school. 3) I didn't like her. At all. Not even a smidgen. She wore flip flops and I even thought her toes were ugly. It's hard for me to actually put into words the level of near loathing I felt for her.

I'm typically a nice witch. I've done some bad things from time to time, but for the most part I'm kind, loyal to my friends and family and I don't commit crimes.

Nice.

When it came to this particular witch, however, my darker side emerged.

Bad Kate.

Not the bad Kate who squirmed in a certain demon lord's hold and thought longingly of handcuffs and tasseled whips. The bad Kate whose heart dropped like a stone the moment I saw Lana standing in the doorway. The bad Kate who "accidentally" cast a small gaseous spell instead of my truth spell the moment we shook hands. The bad Kate who gleefully wrote down Lana's address as I contemplated the number of tomatoes in my Aunt's garden.

That bad Kate.

Not a shining example of my usual self. Not even a close proximity.

But cut me some slack, the moment I saw Lana I was thrown right back into the worst years of my life. Hearing the echoes of old taunts and insults. Feeling the stabbing knife pricks of ancient insecurities and rock bottom self-esteem I sometimes still struggled with to this day.

It shook me.

Right down to my wand tip.

I've never turned a client away before. Ever. And I've had some awful clients.

I didn't know how in all the realms I could truly be helpful and professional and find Lana her perfect match. I'd given her a rather bad case of gas the moment we shook hands. Which only proved that she was already messing with my mind again. Because if I had been thinking clearly, I would have given her the gas
after
she left my office. Not while I was in the same room with her.

And why had Lana chosen
me
as her matchmaker? She didn't like me any more than I liked her.

She used to call me human trash.

Trash. Like I was only fit for the garbage.

She'd made me feel like that, too.

I couldn't understand why she'd come to me at all. Or even why she would
want
to.

I wasn't able to use my truth spell to figure it out either. You have to have physical contact with someone in order to cast a truth spell. And I'd foregone the truth for a little gastro discomfort.

So I was stuck with a multitude of questions and awful feelings. And a miserable need to prove I was the bigger witch.

Sadly, I really was.

Lana hadn't changed a damn bit since our Witch Academy days. She was still a size four with long, straight, black as midnight hair and stunning blue eyes.

I meant the need to prove I was the bigger witch in a moral sense, of course, but now that my mind thought
bigger
I just couldn't get rid of the size issue.

I was going to have nightmares about Lana
and
Sigourney Weaver tonight. I just knew it.

And yet my stubborn need to prove myself remained.

It said:
you can do this, Kate. You've grown and matured. You're not the insecure teenager. You're a successful matchmaker with serious skills.

My stubborn inner Kate sounded suspiciously like my Aunt Tabs.

And darn her. She was right, too.

I wasn't the bullied witch anymore. I was the new and improved Kate. I'd faced major trials recently. And I had come out on top.

So I took Lana Jacobs on as a new client.

And charged her ten percent more than my usual rate.

I might have grown and improved, but I wasn't above a little payback.

5. My Aunt Tabitha.

I swung by my Aunt Tabitha's place on our way home. She'd called to say she had some fresh manicotti for Al.

Al and I argued almost the entire trip there.

I was extremely concerned about Nina's use of black magic. Al wasn't. Nina wasn't using black magic to hide a less than stellar background from me. There are other, safer ways to hide one's past history than tarnishing your soul. Nina was up to no good. Apparently, Al liked a woman with a bad side.

This was news to me since I didn't have a bad side and . . .

Okay. Gas spells and overcharging aside, I didn't usually have a bad side. And causing someone to have an embarrassing bit of flatulence is a far cry from evil.

I did have an incredibly jealous side though.

"I don't know what you see in her." I jerked my Mini Cooper to a stop in front of my Aunt's house.

"Ya mean aside from her beautiful face, gorgeous hair and knock-out body?" Al jumped down from the passenger side and I slammed the door shut behind him.

"Those are just physical things, Al." I unlocked the white picket gate at the front of my Aunt's yard. "You shouldn't put so much value in appearances." I was trying really hard to breathe normally as I sucked in my stomach.

I'd been doing it since Lana had left. My stomach muscles were screaming now.

"Ya mean you'd like Ash the same if he looked different?" Al asked.

I absolutely refused to look down at his furry little body and make comparisons between my Chihuahua and my demon lord boyfriend.

Al might have a point, but he was still a small dog. There was no way around it.

He might think like a lethal hitman, but he was a dog.

Tiny, furry and decidedly canine.

Nina Georgette would break his heart. If she didn't hurt him physically first.

I pushed aside the sudden horrific image that popped into my mind of Al lying still on a cold concrete surface. Near death. His chest barely rising. Blood dripping from his tiny mouth.

I'd embrace every aspect of bad Kate before I let anyone or anything hurt my Chihuahua.

"If you need a change, we could always go out of town for a few days. Rent a cabin. Embrace nature." I'd rent him the entire National Geographic series regarding wolves and buy him the audio version of Charles Clayton's "The Defense" books if it would help.

Ever since Nina's appearance, I'd completely flip-flopped my opinion. I was now heartily in favor of Al embracing his inner beast.

Anything to re-direct his attention.

"S'all right, Doll." Al nudged my ankle with his shoulder. "I'm good."

I hate to say it, because it makes me seem like a really easy witch, but I was somewhat mollified. He'd called me Doll after all.

Maybe he was just trying to make me jealous. And I was worrying about him for nothing.

The turquoise blue front door opened as we walked up the steps to her front porch.

"Hello, dear. Hi, Al."

Aunt Tabitha stepped out with a large plastic container in her hands. She wore a light lavender, button-down blouse, rolled up at the sleeves with a feminine ruffle down the center and rhinestone buttons. She had on skintight white jeans that stopped a half inch above her ankles. Hot pink toenails peeked through her open-toed, glittery, silver high heels. Her blonde perfectly curled hair glistened in the late afternoon sun.

My Aunt Tabs is always utterly styled. Gorgeous without an extra ounce of weight on her at all.

Even in our coven, I'm the odd witch out.

I made a rather belated effort to smooth out my new stretchy top. Désirée Norma-Sue had started making improvements in my wardrobe recently. I think it was actually part of a "new-you" process in the self-help series she was reading. Based on her behavior in the past few weeks it appeared to cover everything from a physical makeover to unleashing the inner beast.

Désirée didn't need to make any changes in her wardrobe so I'd become the beneficiary of that particular step.

Not that I minded. I leaned towards loose fitting t-shirts which wrinkled within five minutes of wearing them. Jeans and black biker boots.

Now I had several incredibly comfortable and surprisingly flattering blouses and shirts in varying shades of blue, green and red. They each had some stretch to them. Which meant they fit nicely over both my stomach and my breasts and they didn't wrinkle. I still managed to skew their shape somehow.

"Hi, Aunt Tabs." I took the container she handed me and kissed her cheek.

"Love the shoes, Tabby." Al growled.

She scooped him up and cuddled him against her breasts.

I knew he was enveloped in a cocoon of vanilla and love.

I'd taken refuge in that same spot more times than I could count after my mother died. Mom and Aunt Tabs had been identical twins. We're all that's left of our coven so her death had hit each of us with the force of a category five tornado. Leaving the shattered remains of our previous lives behind. Aunt Tabs and I had rebuilt, but we each had our jagged holes. Different shapes and sizes created by the same devastating blow.

"Thank you, Al" Aunt Tabs kissed his furry, little head. "I got these a couple days ago."

I wondered what my aunt would think of Ant Leroy. Not that she'd ever asked me to fix her up. That cursed to Fail in Love is kind of hard for us to get around. Aunt Tabs had been a single witch for as long as I could remember. In fact, other than an old kidnapping and a different demon lord with an eye for a certain beautiful blonde witch, I didn't know of any romantic relationships my aunt had been in.

Although, I doubted she was lonely. Aunt Tabs has a very active social calendar. She was friends with various different covens and belonged to numerous clubs. My aunt was mortal also, but she was a full-bred witch. The HC accepted her.

I leaned back against the post and crossed my arms. "You'll never guess who set up an appointment with me today."

Aunt Tabs knew all about my history with Lana Jacobs. She'd dried my tears and tried to convince me I was the stronger witch way back in high school. I think she knew the bullying was not going to end with high school and she hoped I could build my defenses up early.

I'd built my wall, but I'd also quit school.

It was a bend in her wand she never let me forget about.

"Lana Jacobs."

I narrowed my eyes at her. Aunt Tabs might be a highly skilled and very talented witch, but even she couldn't have known the answer unless she had prior knowledge.

Aunt Tabs sighed. "Her mother and I are in the same bowling league together. She told me Lana has been having troubles finding someone to date. I suggested you."

I crossed my arms and tapped my foot. Aunt Tabs has a few duck and dodge tendencies of her own, but when it comes to me and my issues she has more of a sink or swim attitude. I think it's a parental urge and I wish she would get over it.

"You sent Lana Jacobs, my worst enemy, so I could find her a date?"

Aunt Tabs shifted Al to one arm and waved the other hand dismissively. "I'd hardly call her your worst enemy."

"She turned my hair green and cast warts on my face right before our freshman dance," I reminded her.

"Morgause is your worst enemy, dear."

Huh. When she put it like that, I guess Lana wasn't quite as awful as I thought.

"I hope you were nice to her." Aunt Tabs rubbed Al between the ears. He rumbled up at her.

I didn't think there was any definition of nice that included casting gas spells and a ten percent surcharge.

I hate lying to my aunt so I went with the bare bones. "I was professional." That description pressed the envelope, but I wasn't lying. As far as I was concerned, a spell–no matter what type–was a display of skill, and every business owner has to increase their rates at some point. To keep up with inflation at the very least. Plus, I hadn't booted Lana out my door. That was a true testament to my professional side.

"You know, dear, you and Lana could become friends."

I caught Al's wince on my behalf. He'd slept through Lana's interview, but I'd gone over
every
detail of my past with her after he'd woken up.

It's not that my aunt is obtuse or forgetful. She's simply optimistic. We both are. Given our familial history, I've often thought of it as a survival instinct.

My aunt survived the Salem Witch Trials and harbors no ill will towards humans. I chose to become a matchmaker despite our curse to Fail in Love.

Some might have less than complimentary things to say about our attitude, but I like to think of it as ever hopeful.

"There is no way I will ever become friends with that witch, Aunt Tabitha." I hated to dash her hopes, but not even I could be that optimistic.

Aunt Tabs sighed and let the subject drop. "What time are you and Ash going out?"

Ash and I went out on a date at least once a week. He'd left in the middle of at least fifty percent of our dates when we first started dating. I didn't know it at the time, but he had been checking in with Morgause and doing whatever he could to throw her off my trail. I did know I still felt as if I hadn't been courted enough.

Courting is an old fashioned word. Almost no one uses it, or the idea behind it, any more. Life seems to be all about speed and technology and texting these days.

It's taken some of the effort, the awareness, the magic out of dating.

I have a standard rule at
Love Required
:
no cell phones on the first date.

The pursuit of love and a life partner should be treated as a type of warfare. An all-out campaign should be waged. A well-devised courtship planned and executed. Thought put into planning a date, a special picnic. A romantic evening out. Wars have been fought over lines in the dirt. Love is more important than any international boundary line. It's well worth fighting for.

So after Ash and I had declared our love for one another and he’d moved in, I'd made one rule. He had to continue to court me.