Magic and Mayhem: How To Date A Dragon (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Baba Yaga Saga Book 2) (2 page)

“True… but I didn’t want to fight you off,” Jezibaba declared, fastening the corset top over the blouse. Under all the laces were snaps that easily held the garment in place.

A grinning Damien walked around the bed and leaned in to kiss her. The touch of his mouth was warm, satisfying, and felt very domestic. Something she liked but refused to admit liking. Morgana teased her endlessly over her growing affection for the sexy academic.

“I’ll be in the office all morning. Thane and I have some paperwork to complete. Save me a seat at the Dedication Ceremony,” he whispered.

Jezibaba nodded at the mention of Damien’s sexy young assistant. Dragon also, the boy professed to share Damien’s academic bent. She saw something else in the boy’s gaze, but she had no proof. Over the years, she’d learned not to offer opinions with nothing to back them up. That was the problem with academics. They didn’t just go on their gut feelings. They insisted on using their heads, which many times could be fooled.

To be fair, the boy had been around nearly a year now and nothing bad had happened. Yet she couldn’t shake the more subtle messages her intuition kept sending about the male.

She’d moved in with Damien the year Carol and Hildy had advanced to the equivalent of mortal high school on the Witchery U campus. By that point, she’d been spending more time with him than apart from him anyway. It had suited her to trade her small space for the Headmaster’s larger one. More importantly, being with the dragon suited her.

She was still adjusting to the idea of being part of a couple, but other things kept her from dwelling on her weakness. For one… she’d never found out who on the Council of Witches had spent so much money and time trying to kill Carol and Hildy when they were ten.

Her right-hand warlock, Nathaniel, had refused to talk about his odd reaction to them all those years ago. His investigations into the matter had proven nothing he cared to discuss.

The years since then had been mostly uneventful. There had been three assassination attempts, but that was to be expected even without the Council of Witches being involved. Many power hungry magicals would like nothing better than to wipe the young witches away.

Damien’s dragon guards had fried one attempted killer. Emeritus in hellhound form had eaten another. At fifteen, Carol had chased down and subdued the most recent assassin. The bloodthirsty girl might have killed him, but Hildy had turned him into a toad before Carol could make the decision to end his life. That assassin was now incarcerated in the prison for magicals. Since he was unwilling to reveal his boss, he was still a toad. Hildy’s magic was holding longer and longer, though the girl was still reluctant to engage in true battle.

Damien walked away only to turn and come back to her side. He leaned in to kiss her again, this time lingering over her lips. “Maybe we can go flying tonight. You need more practice,” he whispered.

What she needed was to not hurt like hell when she shifted, but complaining wouldn’t solve the issue. She’d stop voicing her complaints a couple years ago. “I can fly just fine,” she said, grinning at the flash in his eyes. “It’s just the landing that trips me up.”

“And rolls you into a free fall that ends with you naked on your hands and knees… unfortunately not in the good way.”

“Stop with the innuendo, Professor. Go swap quips of wisdom with your brainy dragon boy,” she ordered, pushing against a chest that never moved under her hand.”

When the door to the Headmaster’s quarters clicked behind her exiting lover, Jezibaba sighed softly and walked to the small chest that adorned a dresser full of her clothes.

Opening the polished elm chest, she lifted her portable wand and deftly tucked it into the sexy white lace bra she’d donned under her blouse. She was coming to need the wand more often these last few months.

Until she figured out what was going on with her magic, she couldn’t risk being unprepared, especially not now when life was finally getting good for her.

Hildy groaned as she came out of the bathroom and saw the boobtabulous purple sequined dress her best friend was trying to hang on her skinny, muscular, nearly boobless frame.

“You don’t look like her. You’ll never look like her. So stop trying,” Hildy exclaimed, pointing at Carol’s closet. “Wear the black mini-skirt, your light pink blouse, and the leather vest the Amazons gave you when you slashed both their arms. The ensemble will be Urban Kick-Ass Fantasy Chic. You can let your black ceremonial robe flap open rebelliously against your combat boots and show the whole thing off. Guys will be staring at your legs, which by the way, are your best feature. So stop trying to appeal to breast men. You have no breasts.”

Carol snorted. “Why should I take advice from someone who looks like a drunk fairy dipped in glue and rolled in loamy strings of melted pink cotton candy?”

“I look good,” Hildy insisted. She frowned and touched the frilly, pink lace tulle she’d glued to her hair clips. Her gaze dropped to her matching dress with its short flared skirt, more lace hanging below it, and the tight satin bodice that pushed up what little cleavage she was blessed with. “I have no hips as well as no boobs. It’s not easy to look good when you’re shaped like a stick. In this outfit, I look like Cindy Lauper… only classier.”

“No. You look like someone ate a hundred fairies and barfed them back up all over you. They dress human girl babies in that color, Hildy. Pale pink doesn’t look good on anyone, especially not a witch who’s
supposed
to look powerful,” Carol exclaimed, lifting her hand for emphasis.

Hildy narrowed her gaze and flicked out a hand. Pink glitter filled the air. “That dress requires boobs… big boobs… and don’t get any crazy ideas about faking them. Remember the Poison Class incident? By the time you’d emptied your fake boob stash wiping up the spill, your giant boob holder hung down to your belly button and showed through your blouse. Not a good look, Carol. Not a good look.”

Huffing, Carol pulled the purple dress off over her head. She tossed it into the air, waved a hand, and sent it flying back to her closet. Waving her hand again, she dressed herself in the exact clothes Hildy had suggested.

Hildy glared as she hissed.

A loud knock on the door had both their eyes flying open. Carol winced when Hildy glared harder.

“Girls? Are you two using magic in your room? You know that’s not allowed.”

“No, Professor Long,” Carol called, shaking her head and her finger at Hildy who was biting her lip as she fought not to rat them out. She always had to do all the lying for both of them. Hildy was a do-gooder wimp. “We’re almost done. I lost some weight and Hildy was helping pick out my outfit. I’ll clean up the mess later.”

“Okay. Hurry now. You two don’t want to be late for your Dedication Ceremony.”

They stared at each other as their dorm monitor walked away. Then they both let go the breath they’d been holding.

“You’re wasting your power,” Hildy chastised in a whisper.

Carol rolled her eyes. “I didn’t even feel it. And I’m not wasting anything… especially my time changing clothes. It’s your fault anyway. I was perfectly fine in the purple dress.”

Hildy rolled her eyes. “You can’t enchant your boobs to make them bigger. The cost of such magic would be too high. You need to make peace with your body and love it like it is. That’s how it’s supposed to work.”

Carol snorted. “Give it up. You need to stop trying to fix everyone… especially me. Come on, Wussy Girl. Let’s go strut you in your pink fluffiness and see who wants to take a bite.”

As they headed to the door, Hildy reached out and smacked her friend’s arm. “I do not dress like this for boys. I like clothes. I dress like this for me.”

“How many dates do you have for the dance afterwards?” Carol demanded, glaring at her friend for playing too cool. “Tell me you don’t have at least three.”

“I don’t,” Hildy denied.

Carol snorted. “Liar.”

Hildy’s teased chin-length hair stayed perfectly in place as she shook her head. “I’m not lying. I have
five
. But I don’t see why that changes anything.”

Carol shoved a smirking Hildy into the nearest wall, laughing herself as her bragging best friend bounced off. “I have no date and I don’t want one. Tonight is about me celebrating that I will spend the rest of my life becoming the most powerful witch I can be. A guy would only mess that up.”

Hildy rubbed her arm as she straightened. “You’re just saying that because all the guys at Witchery U are afraid of you. Fabio will be there though. He likes you, Carol… and he’s not afraid. Maybe you could dance with him.”

“With Fabio? No freaking way. Your warlock brother is a fourteen year old dork-faced skirt chaser. I don’t care if he is more magically gifted than warlocks three times his age. No secrets worth knowing are hidden in your brother’s pants. Even if there were, I wouldn’t want to know about them. Why are all guys like that? Maybe the Amazons have it right.”

“Not
all guys
are like that,” Hildy denied fiercely.

Carol huffed. “Really? Name one who isn’t.”

“Chuck,” Hildy said instantly.

“
Chuck?
” Carol exclaimed, giving her friend her most pathetic look. “He’s in second grade, Hildy. He’s a baby bear shifter. No guy is bad at that age. Wait till Chuck grows up. He’ll be just as bad as your brother. Wait and see. They all turn out that way by the time they’re teenagers.”

Hildy sighed, nodded, and then shrugged. “Okay. You’re right. Most guys are like Fabio. Is it bad that I still like them anyway?”

Carol stopped and turned to check out her friend. Half of Hildy’s confidence was in her power to attract all kinds of creatures. No guy had gotten the better of her yet. How many times had she seen the Jezibaba using her womanly wiles to get her way? Their mentor and protectoress said they needed to use all their powers and Hildy definitely had a power over all males.

Carol shook her head. “No. It’s not bad that you like them, Hildy. Just be smart and don’t take the stupid horn-toads too seriously. Boys are all asses of one sort or another.”

Hildy nodded as she sighed. “Are you really going to join the Amazons, Carol? You’re starting to talk like them. I don’t want you to give up our Baba Yaga calling and go live on the island.”

Carol’s eyes widened. “Geez, Hildy. Why don’t you just accuse me of being a lesbian? I like guys too. There just aren’t any good ones around here worth my v-entry. I’m tired of going out with guys who only want to pop my powerful Baba cherry to see if it changes them. But I’m not
that
curious. I can wait for someone worthy.”

“I know what you mean. The ones that are v-entry worthy are always too old for us,” Hildy declared. “Like Thane.”

“Yes—like Thane,” Carol agreed, repeating his name reverently and sighing herself. “Professor Hottie’s intern is certainly v-entry worthy. Too bad he only works with the little kids.”

Hildy giggled. “He’s also a dragon like Professor Smoke. Thane is actually over sixty… that’s almost a hundred years old.”

Carol bit her lip. Thane was old, but he didn’t seem old. Professor Smoke was a lot older than the Jezibaba and you couldn’t tell at all. She shook her head to clear away her doubts.

“Sixty in dragon years is only twenty in human witch ones. Technically that’s just a few years older than the two of us. After our Witch Dedication today, we’ll practically be his equal. I don’t think our age difference will be a problem then. I’m not worried.”

Hildy rolled her eyes. “We’re invisible to him, Carol. We’ll never be Thane’s equal, not even on a good day. Give it up and find another guy for the honor. Find a talented warlock.”

Carol shook her head. “No. I’ve now officially decided he’s going to be the one.”

“Thane?” Hildy squealed in a whisper. “You’re going to let him be your first v-entry?”

Carol nodded. A vision of Thane kissing her until she was dizzy danced across her brainwaves.

“Wow,” Hildy said. “You’re going to do it with a dragon. Then you really will be like the Jezibaba.”

Carol laughed and ducked her head. “Not even on my best day,” she said quietly.

“We both know you’re a lot closer than I am,” Hildy declared just as quietly.

Carol felt Hildy reach out and rub her arm. Sometimes she wondered how she and Hildy were ever going to take the Jezibaba’s place. The powerful dragon witch was unstoppable, or she had been so far.

The woman was also a legend. Everyone at Witchery U thought so, including her and Hildy.

Unless she got a lot more confident in her abilities, she would have to rethink living on the Amazon island where at least she would fit in.

“Who are you glaring at now?” Damien asked, looking out over the mass of young people gyrating wildly on the dance floor. He supposed the exhaustive movements kept their bodies occupied while their minds figured out how they felt about engaging in sex.

“Thane is talking to Hildy. He’s making her giggle. Damn that boy.”

Damien lifted an eyebrow. He looked toward his assistant who was keeping a respectful distance from the girl. “Will the Baba Yaga witches not be allowed to be giggling females?”

“No. Tell him to stop,” Jezibaba ordered sternly.

“No,” Damien answered, just as sternly. He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to argue. “Thane’s doing nothing wrong. If you want to make sure he pursues her, warn him away. He is a dragon, Elenora… not human. Thane will not cower like those warlock boys you intimidate so easily. Your threats would only make him want her more. He is feeling his hormones these days. That’s all that’s going on.”

Jezibaba lifted her chin and narrowed her gaze. “Perhaps he would enjoy riding those hormonal surges out as a toad then. How long does that phase of dragon growth last?”

Damien shrugged, unwilling to battle her verbal thrusts. “What would his form matter? Hildy likes toads anyway. She’d probably carry Thane around with her all the time. Do you want to drive her into his arms, or worse?”

Jezibaba rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe I have to watch this happen and do nothing, while you watch unwilling to intervene.”