Suddenly Sorceress (5 page)

Mrs. Camp couldn’t find her mailbox without her glasses, but she could spot a stray cat squatting in her yard in the middle of the night from behind stained-glass windows. I suspected she hated animals. She’d probably already called animal control to round up the mysterious skunk. If he wasn’t careful, Karma would find himself in a basket on the front of her bicycle. She’d pegged him as the culprit digging up her flowerbeds, and I had a terrible time convincing her he was an indoor cat, which was mostly true. He might have used her flowerbed as a litter box once. Okay, once a week.

Karma clawed at the carpet in front of the bathroom, and I shooed him away. “Karma! Get away from there. Bad kitty.” I nudged the cat with my foot as I walked past.

I opened the door to my walk-in closet with a gentle push and tugged on the string to the bare bulb suspended from the ceiling. It didn’t give off much light, but I’d have known my way around the space blindfolded. Thankfully, the closet was cedar-lined and far enough away from the bathroom that the smell hadn’t permeated everything yet. The odor actually reminded me more of the farm because of my boots still bagged up in the corner. I forced myself to look away from the garbage bag and back to the racks of clothes. For an underpaid teacher, I actually had a fairly nice wardrobe, thanks to Chloe. I also had a black belt in thrift-and-consignment-store shopping.

I pulled out my second-favorite shirt—a navy blue pullover I’d owned almost since high school—and a pair of loose-fitting jeans. Maybe I should have worn
that
to the farm. I took my clothes back into the bedroom and discovered Karma still feverishly clawing at the carpet in front of the bathroom door. “What are you doing, kitty?”

The cat growled and went straight back to tearing at the floor. His claws dug in deep, lifting both the carpet and the pad, exposing the subfloor. With both out of the way, I clearly saw a pool of water seeping out from under the door.

“Oh, no!” I tossed the clothes onto the bed and darted to Karma, who calmly peered up at me. With a deep breath, I gripped the towel wrapped around me. “This is bad. Did you do this?” I felt ridiculous even asking. He rubbed against my bare leg and purred.

Defying my better judgment, I opened the door. Instead of searching for the little black skunk, my eyes fixated on the overflowing toilet. Inside the bowl, packed down as if Matt had been turned into a beaver, was one of my good bath towels. It blocked the water from going down, and the toilet had been flushed—repeatedly, if the water level was any indication.

“Damn it!” I yanked open the door and ran to the toilet, dropping my towel on the way, and pulled the drenched linens from the bowl. “How the hell did he—” I stopped and realized I’d forgotten to look for Matt. Even as a skunk, he’d manipulated me. The stinker.

Letting loose a string of obscenities, I splashed back into the bedroom. I would kill him. Skunk or no skunk, spray or no spray, if I could get my hands around his furry little neck, I would definitely wring it. I knew that after plotting such an elaborate ruse, he must have ventured farther than the bedroom. I’d stepped halfway into the hallway when I saw Matt, still in skunk form, at the edge of the stairs, poised to spray my cat.

“Don’t. You. Dare!” I said through clenched teeth as I pointed at him. Waves of anger rose and flowed like a tangible force, surging down my arm and through my outstretched finger like ripples in a campfire. An explosion of heat—hot and bubbly—radiated from me. The moment felt right, somehow. Almost liberating. I closed my eyes, and blue light flickered behind my lids, mesmerizing me. I guess I sort of blanked out again because the next thing I knew, the skunk had vanished and in its place, reared up on his hind legs and wiggling his nose in my direction, was a huge gray rat. “Karma, no!”

The cat pounced, capturing my former fiancé in his razor-sharp teeth, and bounded straight down the stairs.

Five

K
arma playing Tom to Matt’s
Jerry happened so fast I didn’t have time to react. It didn’t help that my unexplainable sexual frustration had reasserted itself, further distracting me. With no time to worry about the fact that I was completely naked, I simply bolted down the stairs in a blind panic. I couldn’t allow my cat to eat my estranged fiancé. How would I ever look at Karma in the same way again? Cats are supposed to eat rats, aren’t they? I mean, traditionally they were raised for the express purpose of hunting rodents, right? Karma would gain immediate street cred for ridding the house of such vermin. Then again, no one would have forgiven Wilbur if he’d eaten Templeton.

“Karma! Put Matt down. Bad kitty. Bad! Kitty!” I screamed frantically. “I’ll open a can of tuna. No, wait, sardines. I’ll—I’ll grill you some salmon! I’ll even watch your back while you crap in Mrs. Camp’s rose garden! Here, kitty, kitty?”

The cat cut through the dining room and ran under the table where I couldn’t follow. I winced at each squeal coming from the rat as I tried to reach them. I managed to topple over two chairs before Karma darted out and cut through the butler’s pantry. Swiping at his tail, I almost had him when he jumped onto the counter. I grasped at nothing but loose fur as he escaped, a muffled growl in the back of his throat. Rounding the marble-topped island, he headed straight for his bowl as if he planned to place his meal in his dish to eat.

I cornered him in the kitchen. He released Matt to lick his chops. Then, holding the rat between his two front paws and gripping him with his claws, he hovered over him.

“Karma, do not bite that rat!” I scolded then turned my attention to the gray rodent. “As for you, Matt, you’ve brought this on yourself. I don’t know how you managed to flood the bathroom—” I froze when I heard the doorbell, my finger mid-wag. Frantic knocking followed the peal. “Oh, this is perfect. Just wonderful!” I muttered. “You see what you’ve both done? Mrs. Camp has probably sent animal control. I wouldn’t be surprised if they scooped you both up!”

I shook a finger at the two of them, my fiancé and my pet, locked in the age-old dance between cat and mouse, and I felt my hold on reality slipping ever so slightly. Another bang on the door startled me. Karma grabbed Matt in his teeth and scooted under the kitchen table, where he must have bit down harder because the rat squealed again.

“Karma, no!” I bellowed. “Let. Him. Go!” I crawled under the table, wincing as my bare skin brushed the cold tile, and grasped the cat by the scruff of his neck. I wrestled the rat out of his teeth with as much care as I could muster. As soon as I freed Matt, Karma fled the room. “I’ll deal with you later,” I yelled at his retreating tail. I turned back to the twitching rodent. His heart fluttered madly, and his cool nose pressed against my palm. “If you don’t behave yourself, I might not turn you back.” I tried to sound confident, as if I had everything under control. Of course, I didn’t know
how
to turn him back. I wondered if he knew that. Could the animal in him smell the truth?

The pounding continued at the front door, alternating with the relentless bell ringing as if someone had leaned directly on the button. I still wore nothing more than a worried expression, so I couldn’t answer it. But more than bothersome, it was worrisome. Someone seemed intent on getting inside.

“Who the hell could that be?” I muttered. Matt squirmed, trying to work himself free. “What am I going to do with you?”

That’s when he bit me. His tiny, razor-sharp front teeth sank into my left hand, between my thumb and wrist, hard enough to draw blood. In the same instant the bead of blood bubbled up, so did a bead of anger, just as red and viscous. With a gasp, I dropped him. As I watched him fall in slow motion, the blue heat flowed through me again.

Call it a crime of passion; I never saw it coming. I lashed out—or maybe I lashed in, because not a single word passed my lips. Okay, maybe I let loose a few choice words, but I didn’t count those. Inside my head, I screamed
curses
at him. That’s all it took. Stunned and nursing my wound, my thoughts were muddled.

It took several seconds for Matt to hit the floor, twisting as he fell. By the time he landed, he wasn’t a rat anymore. He’d morphed into a ginormous, mostly black, diamond-patterned snake with a long gray streak down his side.
A python?
I couldn’t have flown out of the kitchen faster, or screamed louder, if my hair had caught on fire. After screeching to a halt in the front hallway, I grabbed a tan overcoat from the closet and pulled it around me as I opened the door.

“What have you done with him?” the petite blonde barked as she looked past me. “Where is he?”

“Candy? What are you doing here?” Using my injured hand, I gripped the raincoat tighter, peering around her to see if she was alone.

“I’m looking for Matt. What have you done with him? I heard screaming.”

“Screaming? I… I didn’t hear screaming.” I shrank into the depths of the coat.

“I know he’s here, Ivie. His car’s here. We have tickets for Las Vegas this afternoon, and I haven’t heard from him since last night. He was supposed to come get his things then head back to my apartment. You can’t keep me from my fiancé.” She shoved her nose into the air, giant crocodile tears spilling over her kohl-rimmed eyes and creating streaks of black down her face.

“Oh, you mean
my
snake of a fiancé? I’m sure he’s managed to slither off somewhere without you. Have you called Ginger?” I swallowed hard and tried to come up with a sarcastic smile. I don’t think I pulled it off though.

“Why would I call his receptionist?” She turned her attention to my hand and gasped. “You’re wearing my
engagement ring!” She grabbed my wrist, staring at the diamond solitaire. “Why are you still wearing
my
ring?”

I tried to yank my hand back, but she wouldn’t let go. “He proposed to me first.”

“So! He proposed to me last. And he told me he was getting it back from you to give to me. He said he’d sooner die than let you…” Her eyes went wide, and her free hand flew up to cover her mouth. “Oh, my God… Why do you have blood all over your hand?”

Tugging out of her grip, I slipped my arm farther into the sleeve, hiding the tiny teeth marks. The blood soaked into the cuff. “The cat bit me. Not that it’s any of your business.” I lifted my chin and looked down my nose at her, but sounding indignant proved difficult with my heart racing. I kept picturing the giant python in the kitchen, getting into God knows what.

She shook a harlot-red fingernail at me. “That had better be
your
blood. If you’ve done anything to Matt…”

“You’ll what?”

Candy’s face went ashen as she scanned the room with her mascara-streaked eyes. “I’ll call the police.”

I peered behind me to take in the wreckage. Dining room chairs lay in every direction but upright, wet footprints trailed down the stairs, and the overpowering aroma of skunk permeated every square inch of the house.

And the showstopper: the large black snake slithering out of the butler’s pantry. He glided over Matt’s worn-out edition of
Gray’s
Anatomy
and headed in our direction.

I used the door to nudge her out of the house while keeping the snake in my peripheral vision. “Oops, I guess I’d better get him back in his cage. Do let me know if you find Matt. I’d like to have a word with him myself.”

As soon as I’d closed and locked the door, I made a mad dash to the laundry room. I grabbed a large plastic basket, flipped it over to dump the clean clothes on the floor, and bolted back to the foyer while clutching it. Matt had coiled up, half of him on the hardwood floor and the other half on the Persian rug. I shuddered. He lifted his head, and his reptilian eyes stared at me as I slunk closer, laundry basket tucked behind my back.

“I’ll bet you’re pretty confused right now, aren’t you, Matty? I’m going to get you all fixed up in no time. You just need to cooperate with me. Okay?” I used my sweet voice, the one I saved for my students or for special occasions at home. That qualified as a special occasion. When I got close enough, I flipped the basket upside down over him with a spontaneous shiver. Just to be safe, I reached for Matt’s
Gray’s Anatomy
to use as a paperweight.

I forced myself to try the spell again. I’d just transformed him twice in a matter of minutes. I could do it. I needed to strike while the magic was hot, so to speak. The power still sparked in me. I felt it from my fingertips down to the pulsating wet spot right between my legs. Just a whisper, but it was there. I strained to push the sensation out of me toward Matt. I concentrated on the same pattern that had worked before. I struggled to picture him as a human. The image shimmered in and out. Mostly out. I could only focus on the things I
knew
about him.
I couldn’t see his face. It was like trying to light a match in the rain. The flame flickered and went out.

The snake raised its head and struck out at me, hitting the inside of the basket with a dull crack. Plastic cage or not, I refused to spend any more time in a room with a slithering reptile. I’d been living with him for more than a year, but the word
snake
had taken on a completely new meaning. As far as I was concerned, the only
snake
I was going anywhere near was the pair of Louboutin pumps Chloe had bought me last Christmas.

Just then I noticed Karma slink back into the room. Scooping the cat from the floor to keep him from ending up as dinner, I bolted upstairs to the guest room. Karma was the perfect snack-sized treat for a predator Matt’s size. Oh, the irony. Of course, I could only guess at Matt’s size. I wasn’t about to measure him. He was about as big around as a baseball bat and three or four times as long.
Give or take.
But where magic was concerned, there was no taking chances. I had dabbled long enough. I needed help, but didn’t have a clue where to start.

Six

C
raigslist had everything… and I
do mean
everything
. Everything but instructions on how to change my snake of an ex-fiancé back into a human. Although, I imagined those tips would be popular the world over.

Realistically, I should have seen his betrayal coming. Matt was a snake long before he was a
snake
. Breaking up with his fiancé to marry someone else wasn’t going to win him any “Boyfriend of the Year” awards, but I should have seen the writing on the wall. A gym membership for my birthday? As the resident chiropractor, he got those for free! But apparently, the right exercises would increase my bust size and add some “desperately needed” curves.

And working late as often as he did? That was number one in the “How to Cheat on Your Girlfriend” manual. Apparently, gullible was my middle name.

After beating myself up for being naïve, I settled on a nonspecific search for magic. I was amazed how many people were looking to sell a Magic 8 Ball. And something called Body Magic. Magic Chef appliances. Magic Kingdom tickets. Magic Johnson jerseys. In the tangled mess of irrelevant listings, I spotted one lonely ad for
Magician
.

Jackson Blake will amaze and astound, transforming the ordinary into the extraordinary. Not for the faint of heart but the pure of mind. Let the magic touch you where you haven’t been touched before. There may be a little magic in you!

Vlad’s Castle, 1142 4th Avenue, Downtown. Call for reservations and pricing.

A blurry image, most likely an Abercrombie ad photoshopped to resemble a magician, stared at me.
Interesting
. The name Jackson Blake seemed oddly familiar, though I was certain I hadn’t heard it before. I contemplated the phone number for a moment then pulled my cell phone from my purse.

“This is ridiculous.” I flung my phone into the pillows. “What can a magician do to help me? They don’t actually
do
magic!” Neither do kindergarten teachers. Yet there I was. I looked to the cat for answers. He stretched out across the bed and yawned. I punctuated my search for the phone with a resigned groan.

I dialed the number three times before hitting send. His ringback was the electrifying tones of “Magic Man” by the rock band Heart. It gave me the chills.
Very appropriate
. I rehearsed what I would say, but my mind went blank the moment he answered.

“Jackson Blake.” His voice was melted honey and sex.

My eyes darted back to the Abercrombie magician on the ad. For an instant, I feared I may have dialed one of those 1-900 numbers. I’d never heard someone so blatantly seductive before. Only two words from him and my panties had already caught fire. “Um… hi.”

He chuckled. “Well, hello.”

“I found you on Craigslist,” I blurted before taking a steadying breath. “I’m looking for…
someone
… who can help me with magic.”

“Well, magic
is
my thing,” he continued in a matter-of-fact tone. “How can I help you?”

“Your ad said you could, you know, help find the magic within me? I’m desperate.” I took a moment to catch my breath.
I definitely need something to touch me where I haven’t been touched before.
“I can pay you.”

“Find the magic within, huh? That sounds pretty intense. I think I might need more information than that.” I distinctly heard a smile in his voice.

“I’d really rather not say over the phone. It’s somewhat of a…
delicate
situation. Could we possibly meet in person?”

“I have a show tonight.” The magician paused for several beats. “You could come.” Things were sounding better and better. Or maybe that was just my wild imagination. “We can talk after. What’s your name? I’ll hold tickets for you at the door.”

“Ivie. Ivie McKie,” I said then regretted it. Did I really want a stranger to know my name?

“Okay, Ivie McKie,” he said, his voice low and husky. “My show starts at nine… if we manage to start on time. I’m off the stage by ten-thirty, either way. If you aren’t there by eleven, I’ll be gone.”

“Okay. Between nine and eleven. Got it.”

“Oh, and Ivie?”

“Yes?”

“Sorry, but you’ll have to pay for the ticket. I don’t have any to comp,” he said.

“Of course, how much will it cost?”

“Thirty for one. But you can get a pair for fifty. You can bring a
friend
along if you’d like.”

He was fishing. I could tell by the way he said friend—an implication and a question rolled into one. “No, it’ll just be me. Can’t wait to see you tonight.” As I hung up, I clenched my thighs together to fend off the ache between them. If his voice had me this worked up, I shuddered to think what would happen when we were face to face. I needed to get myself under control before I imploded.

After indulging the most extreme sexual craving I think I’d ever endured, with more self-achieved orgasms than any one person should be allowed to experience in a single sitting, I headed back to the gas chamber to find the clothes I’d abandoned. After being strewn about the bed for nearly an hour, they reeked of skunk. Since I hadn’t closed the closet door, so did everything else. I had no choice but to break into the clothes Chloe had forced me to buy last time we went shopping. The bags were, thankfully, still in my car, waiting for the buyer’s remorse to subside.

After dragging myself to the garage, I popped the trunk to root through the bags of clothes. I wasn’t sure whether to thank Chloe or kill her for the selections I had to work with. Was anything in there even remotely suitable for a rendezvous in a magic club? What does one wear to meet up with a total stranger, anyway?

Once I’d convinced myself it was a business meeting, not a date, I selected a lightweight, black Ann Taylor turtleneck and a pair of black skinny jeans. The only time I counted myself lucky to have a waifish figure was when I wanted to wear skinny jeans. There were no curves required. Then I pulled out the bag from Victoria’s Secret. I picked through several pairs of sensible, boring underwear—the kind that didn’t leave lines. Then I remembered Chloe’s comment from earlier. Maybe it was time I started wearing sexy underwear—
without
a reason. With an exasperated sigh, I dropped the plain panties and rooted through my choices until I came across a black, lacy thong.

I don’t remember picking this.
I held it between two fingers.
Chloe
. I wasn’t sure if I should thank her or strangle her. Instead, I tore off the tags and stepped into the flimsy black lace. Then I snatched up the matching bra and, with more than a little difficulty, strapped myself into the too-small lingerie. The tight fit accentuated what little chest I had. In fact, I resolved to wear the bra more often. In the dim light, I looked almost curvy.

After getting dressed and making my way into the foyer, I searched the hall closet for shoes and a jacket. I debated between a pair of low-cut black suede boots with pointy toes—very witch-like—and a pair of knee-high black leather boots with a high wedge heel. Even though the pointy-toe boots had a low heel, they were spiked. The wedge heel would be better for running. I had no intention of running, but I decided not to tempt fate twice in one week.

Grabbing the wedged boots, I struggled to pull them on. The Ralph Laurens fit better, but these looked great too. Wearing black from head to toe, I almost blended into the darkness. I stopped short, glancing at my hair in the mirror. I checked again and squinted up at the light fixture. I couldn’t imagine why the bulb would cast a red glow, but it must have been. My hair couldn’t be changing colors.
Could it?

Shaking my head, I ran my hands through the layers.
When did it get so long?
Strands of red shot through it as if I’d gotten highlights. Fiery red highlights. Definitely more than what I could explain away with strange lighting. The ringing phone forced me to reschedule my panic attack.

“Ivie!” Chloe said. “I’ve been so worried about you that I had a hard time shopping.”

“That’s sweet of you. I’m sorry I ruined your shopping trip,” I said, still studying my hair.

“Oh, I shopped. But my heart wasn’t in it. The bag at Coach was nothing like the one in my dream. I left empty-handed.” Her voice had an obvious pout. “I was positively inconsolable by the time I reached the Marc Jacobs sale. I only bought three pairs of shoes. But I have a surprise for you!”

“Really?” Her sudden glee perked me up, and I pulled my eyes from the mirror. “What kind of surprise?”

“I found a fabulous bag… for
you
.” She sounded delighted.

I needed to take back every unkind thing I’d ever thought about Chloe. Maybe even forgive her for introducing me to Matt. “You didn’t have to buy me anything.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t
buy
it; I
found
it. And it’s cheap—less than two hundred. The store is holding it for you until tomorrow. It matches your Ralph Lauren boots almost exactly. I swear they were made to go together.”

So much for taking things back. “How sweet of you.” If it had been anyone else, I might have gotten angry.

“You’re welcome. It’s the cutest bag.”

I bit my lip. “About the boots—”

“It even has the same gold buckles.”

“Chloe. The boots are ruined.” I covered my face with my hands as if that would protect me.

“No! Not the Ralph Lauren boots,” she cried. “They’d hardly had a chance to live!”

“Hoof marks.”

“Oh.” She giggled. “That’s…
terrible
. What a way to go!”

“I know.” I blew out a breath. “I’m heartbroken. But what’s done is done.”

“You don’t seem nearly upset enough over this, Ivie. You loved those boots. And they were so expensive, too! It’s been two years and you
still
haven’t forgiven me for making you buy them.”

“I just don’t think a pair of boots is worth crying over.” Not when I had so much
else
to cry about.

“Are you okay?” I heard the throaty engine of her car as it accelerated. “This isn’t just about the boots or the goat. I know you’re still hiding something from me.”

I went up the stairs to the hall bathroom to finish getting ready, glancing at a framed photo of me and Invisible Matt along the way. “It’s just… I’m fine, really. But I have someplace I have to be. Can I call you tomorrow? We’ll talk then.”

I thought the call had dropped and said her name twice before she answered in a clipped tone. “Sure. Tomorrow.”

I felt an uncomfortable fluttering in my stomach. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“Why would I be mad?” She sounded too cheerful, even for Chloe.

“Right… Okay. Thanks, Chloe.” I really wanted to tell her everything and drag her with me to the magic show, but I couldn’t bear to bring anyone else into the horror my life had become. “Bye.” She’d already hung up.

Not a minute later, my phone rang again. “I’m so sorry, Chloe. You’re right, I have been keeping things from you, but I promise I’ll tell you soon,” I blurted.

“Ivie McKie?” The deep voice sounded foreboding.

A chill cut through me. My senses lit up like a pinball machine. Something was very wrong. I bit my lip. “This is Ivie.”

“Are you the same Ivie McKie who was engaged to Dr. Matthew Green?”

I didn’t like the sound of that. “Um, yes?”

“Ms. McKie, this is Sergeant Clark of the Roswell Police Department. We’re trying to locate Dr. Green. We understand he’s been missing since sometime last evening.”

I laughed. Not because
anything
about the situation was funny—it definitely wasn’t—but because the most horrific twenty-four hours of my life had
officially
gotten worse. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh.” I stopped and held my breath. What was I supposed to say?

My fiancé’s girlfriend threatened to call the police because I’m still wearing the engagement ring he promised to give her, and after breaking up with me, he never showed up to meet her. Now my house smells like skunk, she noticed where the rat drew blood, and I have a giant snake slithering around my dining room.
Oh, and by the way, the snake is actually my
former
fiancé. Ditto for the rat and the skunk.

Maybe not.

With an exaggerated whoosh, I let out the breath I was holding. “Matt hasn’t called in sick in forever, so I’m sure everyone thinks he must have fallen off the face of the earth.” Not bad for making it up on the spot.

“Hmmm.” The scratch of pencil on paper was the only sound for several seconds. “So Dr. Green is
not
missing then?”

“Missing? No, he’s definitely not
missing
.” I chewed on my lip as I thought about the snake in my dining room. “Was it his receptionist? She’s always overreacting. Matt wasn’t feeling well, so he didn’t go to work. He came home late and spent most of the night in the bathroom.” Sort of true.

“Would it be possible for me to speak with Dr. Green?”

Sure, if you’re a Parselmouth like Harry Potter.
“I’m sure that would be fine.” I struggled to keep my voice even. “Have you tried calling his cell phone?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve tried his cell phone numerous times. It goes straight to voice mail.”

“That’s strange. I could have sworn I heard him on his phone not long ago.” I was getting better at lying. At least, I hoped so. “Let me see if he’s still here.” I placed the phone on the counter and stepped into the hall for effect. “Matt? Matt, honey, someone’s on my phone for you.” I waited a full minute before walking back into the bathroom to retrieve my phone. “I’m sorry. He must have gone out to the pharmacy. If you’ll leave your number, I can have him call you when he gets back.”

“Yes, please do,” he said and rattled off his number.

I didn’t write it down. I only hoped I could stall long enough to reverse what I’d done. After disconnecting the call, I threw my phone into my purse. Candy had made good on her promise to call the police. A thought hit me.
Matt’s red BMW!
I held my nose and bolted into the bedroom to fish through his pockets for the keys. I had to get rid of his car—at least until I could change him back.

How did this happen to me?
I didn’t mean
to turn him into a skunk, and I really did try
to change him back. The fact that he ended up as a rat and then a snake was purely accidental. It wasn’t as if my new…
thing
came with an instruction manual.