Magic and Mayhem: When You Witch Upon A Star (Kindle Worlds Novella) (3 page)

“Ooooh. Training wand. Okay, never mind.” I’d never seen a training wand before, but I would have thought they’d be less—phallic. Never in my wildest dreams did I think my training wand would look like a sex toy.

Ezzy huffed impatiently, her excitement short-lived. “Okay, ladies. Time to quit joking around. I need to get back home before my two pool-boys escape—I mean, get bored and walk away.”

“Since when do you have a pool?” Kelly looked confused.

“Pool? I never said I have a pool, just pool-boys. Capisce? Let’s cut to the chase. Jessica, I know you’re going to that Shifter town in West Virginia for a coming-of-age sex-cation.”

“No, it’s for science, not for se—” I tried setting her straight.

“Silence. You know what you’re really hoping to find. Here’s the deal. You can’t let anyone know you’re a witch, even if you are just a powerless novice. Doesn’t matter. There are other witches outside of the Witches Union, and we only get along as long as we avoid contact. If you get in trouble, you’re on your own. Kelly told you the rule about Shifter relationships. Don’t get all mushy. Have your fun, study them, whatever, and then kick them out. And one last thing: For now, you are only allowed to use your training wand for self-defense. Be sure to read the instructions printed on it and above all, don’t lose it. Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good. I still don’t understand why you want to risk dealing with those non-Union witches just to study some smelly Shifters who likely lick their own balls. Kelly, why don’t you just let Jessica have a roll in the hay with your werebear? Or better yet, have a threesome study session.”

“Gross! We’re cousins,” Kelly and I answered in a shocked chorus. Our unexpected harmony sent us both into a fit of laughter.

“Just a suggestion. Ciao, witches.” Ezzy disappeared as quickly as she’d arrived. The entire diner sprang back to life.

“Wow, Kelly! Ezzy sure is a trip!” I was still laughing.

“The more you get to know her, the more you’ll like her.”

“How did she know my plans, and what you told me?”

“She was sitting in the booth behind us the whole time we talked. She only made that dramatic entrance for show. After a while you learn to expect that sort of thing from her. Anyway, I have to be going too. Be safe and have fun. Write a good report and get that certification you’re working towards. Meanwhile, I’ll check in with Nonna and Maria every once in a while and make sure they haven’t burnt down the house.”

“Thanks, Kelly. Don’t worry. I grew up in a traveling circus—I think I can handle Assjacket, West Virginia.”

Chapter Four

I’
d been driving for a so long it felt like seven dog’s years. A single point of light floated above the rose-colored horizon. I wondered if providing the sun’s morning wakeup call was a duty that fell to the last star of the night.

“Tiago, you know how you make a wish on the first star you see? The success rate of first star wishes is shit, if you ask me. Has anyone tried to wish on the last star? I could try. Dear last star of the night, I, Jessica Franchetti, newbie witch and perpetual virgin, hereby make this compound wish. I wish to find a Shifter, I wish to enjoy a passionate sexual romance with my dream man, and I wish to fall in love.”

“Squawk! Excuse me while I whip this out.”

“Such pleasant company. Sing for me.”

Tiago cranked up the volume, belting out the lyrics to “Here Comes the Rain Again.”

I thought about my wish. I never should have wished to fall in love, not while wishing to find a Shifter too. The witches would have a cow over it.

“Ugh. Give me some music that will help me stay awake, please.” Tiago obliged with a bubbly rendition of “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go.”

I was used to traveling, but it had been a long drive. The old Suburban’s radio hadn’t worked in years and I suspect Tiago was to blame. I think he wanted to take out the competition.

I’m telling you, that bird loves to sing. It’s absolutely uncanny how good he is. You can request even the most obscure title and he knows it. We’ve been best friends since I got him ten years ago.

Tiago’s past is murky, but at some point a clown named Roscoe won him in a poker game. In time, Tiago became an integral part of Roscoe’s clown act. Unfortunately, Roscoe loved whisky, and he downed Jim Beam like it was water. One fateful night, Roscoe the drunken clown climbed behind the wheel to perform in a slapstick chase scene. What a way to go, to die in a tragic clown car accident.

Roscoe didn’t have a will, so Tiago simply stayed with the circus. Unfortunately, poor Tiago had picked up more than a few nasty habits from Roscoe. Not a single person wanted him around. Heartbroken for the old unwanted bird, I took him in with no regard for his reputation. I figured it couldn’t be any worse than the bad habits most circus people displayed. He must have known I was his last chance for a new owner, because he was on his best behavior after I got him.

Once I moved in with Nonna, Tiago dropped the good bird charade.

If you decide to get a talking bird, take my advice: Put him in another room when company comes over. Few things can ruin a holiday dinner as thoroughly as a parrot in the dining room. Especially one that suddenly repeats every vulgar utterance and orgasmic moan from an old porn movie. And with such perfect clarity.

However offensive he can be, there’s no denying his talent. He has the ability to flawlessly reproduce the boing-boing sounds of synthesized porno music while shifting from one foot to the other.

“All right, Tiago, turn it down.”

“Bon Jovi? Bon Jovi? Van Halen? Van Halen?”

“No, Tiago. Nothing. I need to hear Siri. We must be getting close to the first West Virginia exit.”

Tiago ended his song with a flat chirp that smacked of disappointment. The silence was refreshing. Okay, as silent as it can be when you’re rolling down the interstate in a rusty 1983 Suburban that’s only held together by duct tape and the grace of God.

“Hey Siri, how much longer until our exit?”

“In one hundred yards, merge right onto the next exit ramp.”

“What? A hundred yards? You’ve got to be kidding me!” I frantically pulled to the right. My tires barely gripped the shoulder as I fought to make the ramp.

The rusting hulk careened down the ramp with only the passenger’s-side wheels making contact with pavement. I screamed, Tiago screamed, and some guy selling blankets and rugs at the corner of the intersection in front of us screamed.

Quite possibly the imprinted face of Bob Marley covering layers of plush material screamed as we smashed through the display.

I pressed the brake with all my might, nearly standing upright on it. We skidded sideways to a stop, but not before taking out two white tents, four hundred eighty-three incense burners, thirty-four wind-chimes, and at least two racks of sunglasses. Judging by the odd assortment of items, it was clear we had collided with a roadside flea market.

“In one hundred yards, merge right,” Siri advised again out of the blue.

“What the hell?” I spotted my phone on the passenger side floor. It was turned off. “Damn you, Tiago! Your little Siri impersonation almost got us killed.”

Tiago hopped up on the headrest and made apologetic kissing sounds.

“It’ll take more than that to make up for this mess.” I cautiously stepped out of the Suburban, eyeing the swath of destruction behind me.

“Jesus…” I shook my head. Thankfully, we had only skirted the fringe of what had to be the largest flea market I’d ever seen.

“Wow! That’s some mess.” A man’s voice surprised me. “We haven’t seen anyone that enthusiastic about hitting the flea market in a long time. No ma’am, not since that rush of customers we had after Antique Roadshow appraised my toothpick that belonged to Robert E. Lee’s cousin’s nephew.” The man was older, perhaps in his sixties, and he seemed kind.

“Well, I definitely hit it,” I said, pulling the tangled remains of a flimsy lawn chair from under the front bumper. “I am so sorry. Are these your things?”

“Nope. I sell the antique tractor parts next to the Amish bakery tent. This stuff here… well, it belongs to a strange couple, foreigners I guess. No one got hurt and it doesn’t look like you damaged anything more than twenty bucks’ worth of knock-off sunglasses.”

“Are you sure? I could’ve sworn I saw a man by the blankets.”

“Just a tourist browsing. Thankfully he’s a young’un and jumped out of the way pretty damn fast when he saw your vehicle headin’ straight for him. I haven’t seen anyone around their tables since this morning. Like I said, they’re strange. They usually don’t come back until four or five in the evening. I tell you what, I’ll help clean up this mess and explain about the accident. There’s no use in you wasting your day waiting on them to come back.”

I looked at my watch and, when I realized I might have to wait three hours longer, I relented. It’s completely out of character for me to be so trusting, but the fact that the tents and booths were left unattended for so long made me believe the flea market’s business model centered on trust.

“If you don’t mind. I’d hate to leave you in a bad spot.” After I picked up what I could, I fished some cash out of my pocket. “Here, take this fifty dollars to give to whoever owns this booth. That should pay for anything that didn’t survive the crash.” My conscience was clear. Even if old Mr. Rogers pocketed the cash for himself, I’d done the right thing and absolved myself of any guilt.

“You be careful out there now, y’hear?”

I nodded and headed back to the Suburban. I was still puzzled about the entire situation, but not enough to stop me from climbing back into my vehicle. Tiago squawked as I turned the key. “Something doesn’t feel right. I’ve never been one to leave an accident for any reason until the police were called and information’s been exchanged. But in a situation like this there’s really nothing more to do other than pull this beast out of here.”

“Squawk! That’s what she said.”

“Damn you, Tiago!”

As I drove out of the flea market, I narrowly missed a hand-painted sign welcoming us to West Virginia, with the words Almost Heaven punctuated with quotation marks.

“Almost heaven,” I read out loud. “Almost. Huh. Sorry, but almost only counts in horseshoes, hand grenades, and atom bombs.”

Tiago decided it was the perfect time for another one of his grand performances, and launched into his impeccable impersonation of John Denver singing “Take Me Home, Country Roads.”

I tolerated the song, only interrupting when I spotted the sign I’d been looking for. “Finally! The real exit!” Amazingly, it was a mere five miles from my impromptu trip through the flea market.

Even though I loved road trips, I was ready for this one to be over. Nothing sounded more inviting than checking into the hotel room I had booked and taking a hot shower. Feeling human again was a top priority. Everything else could wait. I planned to wait until morning before checking out the town and looking for a short-term apartment lease. I already had some good leads, thanks to the internet.

Compared to Chicago, housing costs in West Virginia were ridiculously cheap. That meant my savings would be enough to cover my living expenses without having to find a full-time job. Working part-time would allow me to concentrate on my cryptozoology work as I scoped out the area for my very own real live Shifter.

Chapter Five

T
he Evergreen Motel was one of those nostalgic remnants of an age gone by, and that’s putting it nicely. In fact, it was a seafoam-green and pink nightmare from the early 1960s. Rows of the fugly A-frame units encircled the parking lot.

I picked up the keys to my room and went to work unloading my bags.

“Hey lady, what’s your parrot’s name?” a little blonde boy asked while he pushed his toy truck along the pastel roadway his sister was diligently drawing on the sidewalk with colored chalk.

“Tiago.”

“Can he talk?” the boy asked.

“Can I pet him?” the little girl added.

“He likes to talk and he also sings. But I’m afraid he says some very naughty words and he bites. He really doesn’t like strangers. It’s probably better to leave him be.”

The girl peeked under my vehicle, squinting to make sense of something she spotted. “Why do you have a raccoon stuck under your truck?”

“Raccoon? Really?” Lowering myself to my hands and knees, I peered under the front end of the Suburban. Tears welled up in my eyes when I saw a limp ringed tail.

“Oh my God! I hit a raccoon!” I felt horrible. I’d never killed anything before.

I rubbed the tears away and had just prepared myself for the grisly task of having to pry its lifeless little body from the frame, when suddenly the tail twitched. “It’s alive!”

Without hesitating, I removed my sweater and placed it on the pavement under the animal. I probably should have worried about getting bitten or clawed, but I didn’t. Time was of the essence. Reaching up under the frame, I felt the animal’s limbs and body until I understood how it was wedged in place.

Ever so gently I pried the unconscious raccoon free, wrapped him in the sweater, and rushed him into my room.

After putting him on the bed, I googled the number to a local veterinarian, but they only offered to euthanize the poor creature. “Now what? I know you’re alive, little guy. I have to try.”

Tiago sang “Doctor, Doctor, Give Me the News.”

“Not now, Robert Palmer.” I gently pulled on the raccoon’s paws, hoping for some sort of reflex to kick in and give a sign of life. His arms were limp at first, but suddenly they jerked. A deep purring sound rose from his little chest. “I just wish I knew a magic spell that could help in this situation.”

An idea sprang to mind. “I wonder…” I scrambled through my bags until I found exactly what I was looking for—my new training wand. “It can’t hurt to try.” As per the instructions, I twisted the knob on the base until the wand came to life, buzzing with a high-frequency vibration.

On the bed, the nearly-roadkill raccoon rested on his back, all four legs spread wide. “Be cured!” I commanded, touching him with the buzzing phallic wand.

“I’m such a pathetic witch, even if I am just a novice in training. I don’t know a single spell, Tiago.” I shook the wand hoping for something to happen. Nada. I dangled it over the raccoon, praying it would send healing energy, positive karma, good juju, or
something
into him. Finally, I massaged him with it. I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like he might have smiled.

Tiago flapped his wings and squawked, his attention focused on the wand. Something about it was familiar enough to remind him of something he’d seen before—and he made it perfectly clear what that was. “Oh, yes. Baby, yes. Deeper, deeper. That’s it. Faster! Oh! Oh! Yes! Yes! Give it to me!”

“Come on, come on, little raccoon.” I begged, ignoring the vulgar parrot. Tears were once again flowing down my face.

In my earlier haste to get the raccoon inside, I’d left the door open. Of course, someone just had to walk by. It was one of the other guests, a woman, and her reaction to what she saw when she looked in was priceless—probably one for the Guinness Book of World Records in the category of ‘Insane Women.’

“What the hell are you doing? Sicko! Pervert! Sodomizing a raccoon with a sex toy?” I could hear her continued shouts as she turned and ran across the parking lot.

Another woman popped her head in the doorway. She was a petite African-American woman, around forty years old. I recognized her from my earlier visit to the motel office; her name was Sophie. I tucked my wand away under the comforter before she spotted it. I really didn’t want to be accused of sodomizing a raccoon again.

“Is everything okay in here?”

“No. I hit this cute raccoon on the road. The vet won’t help. I don’t know what to do,” I sobbed.

“Raccoon? Let me take a look.” Sophie carefully examined the animal. “At least he’s still alive.” She cocked her head and studied its face, which I thought was very odd. “I think I know of someone who can help. She has a way with injured animals.”

“Really? Is she a veterinarian?” My spirits lifted at the thought of being able to save the little critter.

“Not exactly. Her name is Zelda, and her house is only a few minutes from here. Smack dab in the middle of town. You can’t miss it. She owns the big white Victorian place with the turrets. Got a wraparound porch, and flowers everywhere. Just take the raccoon there and tell her what happened.”

“Would you come with me, Sophie? Please?”

Sophie stared at the raccoon, apparently trying to decide if she’d take me to Zelda’s. “I prefer not to get involved in matters like these.”

“Involved? Matters like these?” I couldn’t help but sound befuddled. It was just a raccoon, after all.

“Oh, what the hell. I’ll go along with you. But you’re driving.” She bundled the raccoon up in my sweater and handed him to me. “We better make it quick. He’s in bad shape.” It was refreshing to find someone as concerned as I was about an injured animal.

Tiago fluttered onto my shoulder as we climbed into my oversized vehicle. He hated being left alone.

Sophie gave me directions as we navigated the small town, but like she said, you couldn’t miss Zelda’s house. It was indeed in the center of town, which seemed to be the historical district, and there was no way to miss those large round turrets. Under better circumstances, I would’ve enjoyed learning more about the history of the town. These houses looked like they had plenty of stories to tell.

A worrisome thought crossed my mind. What if Sophie was one of the witches I’d been warned about? I didn’t entertain my anxiety by speculating further but it was a reminder not to let my guard down.

In the course of turning onto Zelda’s driveway, one tire hopped over the curb and took out a mound of purple coneflowers. For a newbie witch, I was definitely racking up victims.

If only I’d known how many.