Magic and Mayhem: How To Train A Witch (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Baba Yaga Saga Book 1) (13 page)

Shift? Are you saying I’ve turned into a real bloody dragon?
She lifted one claw with talons and then the other, staring at her very large dragon feet. She blinked and then looked back at Damien.
Fuck—I’m a damn dragon.
Do I have wings too?

“Yes. They’re as red as the rest of you, but I don’t think you should try flying yet. Better save that experimentation for the daylight. In fact, I think you should shift back to a human while you can.”

And just how the hell do I do that, Professor Know-It-All? I don’t even know how I got into this form.

Damien shrugged and hoped the darkness hid his smirk. “Think of yourself as human again, I guess. For most dragons, the situation is reversed. My human form is the harder one for me to take on. Going back to dragon is like breathing. I just remember my dragon and I change.”

Jezibaba started to pace, then realized she had no place to walk.
How freaking big am I? And if you make a wide ass joke at my expense, I swear I will fry you where you stand.

Damien covered his mouth and the grin on it with a hand. He focused hard so he could mentally connect with her. She needed reassurance, but all in all she was taking it better than he would have in her position. Goddess… she’d gone over three hundred years never knowing her dragon. The idea was unfathomable to him.

You are magnificent as a dragon, worthy to be the eighth wonder of the world in this form, Jezibaba. Also, your dragon is every bit as big as mine and I am very large by dragon standards. A dragon’s body size is supposed to reflect the amount of power the dragon holds. It is obvious how powerful you are, even without Morgana’s symbol adorning each wing. Her mark is noticeable even with them folded across your back.

Jezibaba turned her massive head and figured out how to spread a single wing, letting it stretch above the nearby treetops so she could see it full span. Just as Damien had reported, the mark of Morgana The Red appeared there. It was created with black, green, and white strips of feathered filament resting over the most delicate of red scales anchoring them in place.

When she folded her wing back and looked at him in shock, her resigned sigh sent more fire zooming out of her mouth. It singed the ground in front of her, sending Damien dancing out of reach again, his impressive man junk bobbing. It also had him laughing more and harder… at her, she knew. She snorted, hearing the massive push of air echo in the night.

I can’t speak. All I can do is breathe fire. This is not funny,
she sent.

Actually, it’s very funny, but I can understand why you wouldn’t see the humor at the moment. Perhaps tomorrow you’ll appreciate it,
he sent back.

Jezibaba closed the eyes of her beast form. Perhaps this was just temporary magic, some trickery Morgana had done. Maybe her ability to shift to a dragon wasn’t something permanent. Maybe she was paying for that third orgasm. Two were all she’d managed with other men.

But turning into an actual dragon herself? She’d truly never considered the possibility, but she’d bet her condo on the beach that Morgana had known it was possible all along.

Deceitful Goddess.

What would happen when others found out? She suddenly saw herself appearing before the Council of Witches in her sedate black robes trying to explain to them that shifting into a dragon was not going to be an ongoing problem for her work. Another flash of pain greater than the first one she’d experienced took her over.

Next thing she knew, she was on her hands and knees crawling across the cold, hard ground.

Damien’s snicker above her head had her reaching out and grabbing his ankle. She upended him until he landed on his laughing ass in front of her. It didn’t stop him, but it made her feel a bit better.

After the worst of the pain had passed, she climbed wearily to her feet. Fuck shifting. Shifting hurt like hell. She couldn’t believe the dragon bastard she’d slept with was amused about her going through this. Men. Whatever the species, they were all insensitive fucktards.

“I don’t know how, but you lifted my great-grandmother’s binding spell. My dragon fire has returned with a vengeance.”

Damien raised up one elbow, grinning at his magnificent lover in the moonlight. He couldn’t wait to introduce her to his mother. “I think your fire returning is the least of your changes. Looks like I helped you find your true nature tonight as well. Not bad for a man who hadn’t had sex in seventy-five years, eh?”

It was impossible to stay angry with a man who looked at you so adoringly and bragged like a teenage boy. Snorting over how stupid proud Damien was of her shifting, she stepped forward and held out her now human hand to him. When he took it and rose with her, his raw attractiveness sent flutters through her all over again. It seemed her lust for the handsome dragon was going to torture her over and over.

“Come to bed with me. We’ll sort this out tomorrow,” she ordered.

Damien linked his fingers through the Jezibaba’s. “There’s no place in the world I’d rather be tonight or any other night until I breathe my last in this cold, cruel world.”

“You and your damn speeches. Can’t you see how turning into an animal the size of a building might put a big damn damper on me feeling romantic, Professor Glib?”

Sighing when he chuckled again, she took them both back inside. She was asleep the moment she hit the bed.

Three weeks and a couple hundred orgasms later, the girls were still training with their Amazons and she luckily hadn’t felt the need to shift again. Damien had advised her not to push the shift, urging her to wait until Elenora wanted out again.

She’d accused him of being afraid of her dragon. He’d smiled with a flash of his sharpest teeth and showed her that evening how unafraid he was of her. She’d dropped that tactic since it had not helped her to meet her goal. In fact, she’d dropped most of her teasing where he was concerned. The dragon was making her soft.

Ironically, she missed Professor Hottie’s jealous fits over her work. She and the warlocks regularly disappeared several times a week. Damien hadn’t complained a single time, not even when she came home with a black eye. Troll given, the black and blue still hadn’t faded. The children had gleefully asked for details and she’d given them what she could.

Damien had growled, made her an ice pack, and held it on her face until the initial swelling had gone down. It was very strange to have someone waiting for her return. She wasn’t used to anyone caring about her absence, much less taking care of her wounds.

Getting used to Professor Hottie waiting in her bed had turned out to be more difficult than learning she could shift forms.

“Can I fix your eye, Jezibaba? It’s making me ill every time I look at you.”

Jezibaba snickered at the softly made offer. “This is nothing but a bruise, Hildy. Where were you when I was getting broken arms and severed fingers? The warlocks had to fix those and they complained the whole time.”

Hildy made a face. “I don’t think I could fix those anyway, but I can fix your eye.”

Jezibaba pointed to a nearby wrought-iron bench. She sat and leaned down where the girl could reach her face. Hildy gently held her hair aside and put her small palm over the biggest part of the bruise. Power flowed into the area and Jezibaba could feel her face healing.

Hildy sighed when she finished. “There. That one didn’t even give me a headache. Sometimes healing hurts.”

Jezibaba nodded. “Yes, I know it does. My grandmother was a great healer—not as powerful as you, but she healed a lot of people.”

A loud exclamation and a cheer for success drew their attention across the lawn. Carol ran towards them, her eyes flashing.

“I did it! I did it! I fought two Amazons at once. Time to dance…”

Carol did several body gyrations that no one on Earth would ever call dancing. Hildy laughed without judging. The two were as different as night and day, yet they cared for each other in a thousand small ways that spoke of a true and lasting friendship. Every time she saw the girls like this, she wondered how different her life might have been if she’d had a friendship like these two.

“Are you wearing your amulets?” Jezibaba asked. Each girl pulled a shirt collar aside to show them off to her. “Good. Who’s up for learning magic travel?”

Carol stopped dancing and put her hand over her heart. “Me!”

Hildy shook her head. “I still get sick. Can I learn something else?”

Jezibaba smiled and ran a hand over Hildy’s blonde hair. “Yes. All in due time then. Run get your broom and we’ll sneak away to practice flying.”

Hildy drew in an excited breath and was off like a shot from a gun.

Jezibaba stood and held her hand out to Carol who took it without hesitation. They had come far in trusting each other these last few weeks. Emeritus had been working with her as well.

“Let’s start with something easy. We’ll just pop over to that tree and back.”

They disappeared and reappeared under the tree.

“Now I’m going back to the wrought-iron bench. You’re going to magic travel to me. All you have to do is feel—feel with everything in you—that you’re standing by my side. And then you will be.”

She fingered waved and went back to the wrought-iron bench. Across the lawn, she could see Carol talking to herself, ramping up her confidence no doubt. The girl stilled, closed her eyes, and then disappeared. Jezibaba laughed and looked around. No Carol. Suddenly, she heard giggling. The girl was sitting serenely on the bench behind her.

“Excellent work. I knew you’d be a natural,” Jezibaba declared, taking the seat beside her.

“Can I tell you something?” Carol asked.

Jezibaba nodded. “Of course.”

“I don’t want to ever go back home. I’m happy here. You’re teaching us cool stuff. Home is boring. I don’t think they really like me anyway. That’s why they sent me away.”

Jezibaba looked at the girl’s sincere face. “They sent you away because they were afraid of your power. That price is only the first of many you will pay for being such a powerful witch. However… along the journey of your life, there will always be more people like Hildy, Professor Smoke, and me. You will be one of the most powerful bringers of balance. Unfortunately, you have to find and feel that balance in your own life first.”

Carol scrunched up her face. “So I have to go home and deal with my family like that wizard kid did in the books Ms. Turner read to us?”

Jezibaba grinned. “Yes. Maybe you should invite Hildy to visit with you when you go. She could accidentally turn anything that gave you a hard time into a toad for a while. That should keep things humming along in your favor while you’re there.”

Carol laughed but shook her head. “That sounds great, but it would never work. Hildy’s not like us. She’d be all worried about hurting them. She’d never see they were learning a lesson.”

“Not like us, huh?” Jezibaba laughed at the comparison, which was a little too true for comfort. “Well, I guess that’s true enough. You’re very wise to hold Hildy’s character dear anyway. Healers are generous souls with special talents. You need all the friends like Hildy you can get.”

“I like her because she laughs at my jokes,” Carol said.

“Hildy is the best of best friends then,” Jezibaba declared, smiling at her tiny mirror. Both prospective Baba Yagas were like her, but Carol could have been her child.

They looked up to see Hildy running toward them with a broom held high. Jezibaba laughed at her excitement, and didn’t see the man dart out from behind a tree to nab her until he had Hildy snatched up and stowed under his arm.

“Put her down,” Jezibaba yelled the order. She held a hand up to send a power bolt through the treacherous warlock. It bounced off his chest, but he did drop Hildy.

“Fly, Hildy,” she screamed at the girl.

She spared a glance at Carol as her posse appeared and surrounded the man in the yard. “Go find Professor Smoke. Magic travel to him. Calm yourself all you can and think of standing next to Professor Smoke.”

When the girl closed her eyes and disappeared, Jezibaba looked up to see Hildy doing a spin on the broom after getting hit with stream of dragon fire.

“Rogue dragon!” Jezibaba yelled, running towards the man who shredded his clothes and shifted until he was in full dragon form.

The closer she got, the more familiar the dragon looked. He wasn’t as malformed as the dragons that had been reanimated. He was darker scaled than Damien—and he had mean eyes.

But the smile—that devastating sharp toothed version was the very same.

Jezibaba looked at her warlocks. “Work from afar and protect the children,” she ordered.

When they’d disappeared, she looked back at Damien’s evil son. “Lionel, I presume.”

“That name is the one my cowardly father gave me. I always hated it. Lionel? What kind of name is that for a powerful dragon?” He looked down his broad snout at the woman addressing him. “Somehow I thought the Jezibaba would be more impressive. You’re not what I expected.”

“Strange—you’re exactly what I expected an evil son to be like,” Jezibaba declared.

A blast of dragon fire pushed her back a couple steps. It singed her clothing, but her spell was mostly working to save the fabrics of her clothing. The rest of her was immune, but she hated fighting naked. She snorted at his confused look that she wasn’t a pile of ashes yet.

“Now I supposed you’re going to tell me you weren’t expecting me to survive your dragon fire either.”

“Die, Witch,” Lionel ordered.

“You first,” Jezibaba ordered back, lifting her hands.

A bigger dragon landed behind her and grabbed hold of them before she could evoke Morgana. She was pushed to the ground, two giant black claws holding down her hands.

When she couldn’t escape the black dragon’s grip, she glared up at him. “Is it raining mutant dragons today? Guess I should have checked the weather. You’re Acheron, I presume.”

The dragon laughed above her back. “How can someone like you be the Great One? I expected a much bigger creature, even in human form. Why you’re nothing but a tiny little witch who’s managed to elude her fate until today.”