The Magic Queen (4 page)

Read The Magic Queen Online

Authors: Jovee Winters

Tags: #witches and wizards, #Paranormal Romance, #Mythology, #Greek Mythogy, #sexy fairy tales

BOOK: The Magic Queen
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Something about the imp tugged at her memory banks. “You look...”

“Ugly?” he supplied, practically preening, his thin birdcage of a chest puffed up proudly as his wormy lips twisted into a facsimile of a smile. “Thank ye.”

“Uh....” She blinked. “Familiar?”

What in Kingdom did Caly and Dite have up their sleeves, and why was this strange little man suddenly bounding around her legs like a demon child pumped high on haloshrooms? And for a moment, she could have sworn that he looked crestfallen that she hadn’t actually been calling him repulsive.

“You’re a strange kind of beast, aren’t you, wartface?”

“That’s peabrain,” he automatically corrected, and his orangey-red eyes sparkled with licks of fiery disdain.

Her brows lifted. Was it her imagination, or did this little beast seem not to like her at all? Not uncommon for her really. There were few in all the words who could tolerate her. But she’d been on her best behavior so far and had no idea why the animosity.

His tongue flicked out like a snake’s. It was even forked, and she couldn’t help smiling.

She decided to try once more. “You remind me a bit of my Balthazar.”

“Oh, ye mean that nasty-tempered golden adder?” The imp shuddered. “Took a plug out of Fiera just now, he did. She weren’t happy none.”

Nope, there was a definite note of a growl in his voice. The little imp didn’t like her at all. And now she knew why. Balthazar was with Fiera, the sun elemental and this imp’s “mommy.”

Baba frowned, worried for her baby. And worry always frayed her temper. She was a foul-tempered woman at the best of times.

Snatching Peabrain up by the scruff of his flame-singed tunic, she jerked him around so violently that his smushed-up doll’s head flopped around, and a strange little wheezing sound spilled from his tongue.

“Where’s my familiar, and why are you here?”

He was already ugly, but now he looked even worse with his beady eyes bulging and looking like they would pop from their sockets. “Can’t...breathe—”

She dropped him. He landed on the ground with a
splat
, looking dazed and confused as he rubbed at his throat.

“Tell me what’s happening now, brainy, or I’ll transform you into slug.”


Ohhh
,” he snarled, “I’m so scared. Will I have three or ten eyes?”

Though his voice was raspy, he didn’t look in the slightest bit upset or terrified of her. She curled her nose, not liking any of this. Why was this devil here?

“What?” she snapped.

He flicked his wrist. “I’d prefer ten, but beggars and all that. Anyway, witch—”

She narrowed her eyes, curling her fists. Normally, she didn’t mind the moniker, since that’s exactly what she was. But this demon rubbed her the wrong way. She wanted to kick him right between the legs on those shriveled-up walnuts he called jewels.

His misshapen lips grew broad with a grin—as if he knew what she’d been thinking—causing his forehead to scrunch most unappealingly. Baba was sure that if she ever gave birth in her crone form, this monster would be the sort of thing she’d make. Regardless of she liked the beast or not, she was going to learn all she could about what he was doing here. “You’re Fiera’s fire imp. How are you talking so well?”

Baba made it a point to learn all she could about the characters of Kingdom as powerful as she. Fiera had a fiery temper to match her fiery mane, lived in a hidden realm called Fuego, where there was nothing but perpetual hellfire and flame, and was sister to none other than Calypso, Goddess of the Elemental Seas herself.

Fiera’s imps, so far as Baba remembered, had the mental acuity of five-year-olds, even though they were—many of them—as long-lived as Baba herself. Last she’d heard, the imps spoke with a broken, child-like quality. But this imp seemed a little smarter than the average demon.

She wished she could say the pieces of the puzzle were finally starting to come together, but in truth, she was more confused than ever. Who were all the voices she’d just heard screaming through the woods? What sort of “love” trial required all this? And exactly where the hell was she?

Peabrain sniffed, and his skin started to glow sort of like someone had shoved a lit candle up his buttocks. Gods, he was ugly.

“Ye’ve heard of me. What do you know, witch?” His slack flesh drooped like melted wax as he frowned up at her.

She hugged her gown to her legs, giving him a cockeyed look. “I’ve heard you’ve a taste for shapely female flesh. Since I’m a female—”

“And shapely.” He licked wormy lips.

Making yuck face, she snatched him up by his collar again and shoved her face into his. “Try to lick, suck, nibble, or bite me, and you shall surely die, ugly. Have I made myself clear?”

Adam’s apple bobbing, he nodded jerkily. “Yes. Yes. Against the rules of the game anyway. Caly made me promise to be a good fire imp. And I am. Me good.”

His syntax was quite strange: at times, cultured and refined, and at others, childlike and demonic.

Releasing his collar, she decided to rein in her temper for now and get to the bottom of this mystery. “Well, what’s going on then? The goddesses were hardly forthcoming.”

“That’s cuz it’s me job.” As he patted down his vesture and took a deep breath, a sort of transformation came over his features. Though he still looked as breathtakingly repugnant as before, there was now a scholarly air about him. “The rules of the game are as follows. One.” He held up a finger. “The moment I am through with this spiel, ye shall find yourself in a battle to the death—”

She blinked. “Battle to the death. That sounds dreadful.”

He blinked too then blushed a ghastly shade of gray. “Did I say death? I did, didn’t I?” Laughing, as though she’d just told him the world’s funniest joke, he took a minute to wipe the tears from his eyes. And then just as serious as can be, he shrugged. “I did in fact mean death. Funny, that.”

Her brows furrowed. “You don’t say.”

His fiery eyes sparkled with wicked laughter as though he enjoyed the thought of her future demise. Baba had been around those who wished to do her harm in the past, so his feelings of loathing were nothing new. She really hoped she wouldn’t need to tolerate his presence much longer.

Nodding happily, he pressed on. “Two. Your mate has already been chosen. Do not worry that you won’t actually be able to see him. The oracle will compel you to choose the proper one.”

“Oracle?”

Acting as though he hadn’t heard her, he rushed right on. “Three, it’s okay to try to kill your opponents as they will try to kill you too.” He smacked his lips, and the fire danced.

She cocked her head, thinking this little demon thing was probably seriously unhinged. “Say again?”

But again, t as before, the little worm ape moseyed right on through that question. “Four. Until the games end, I will be your familiar.” He grimaced as though the word tasted foul on his tongue. “Prior to each battle, I will bring you word of who it will be and where. And five, do have fun...witch.” He stumbled over that last bit, squared his shoulders, and shook his head, clearly wishing he could tell her something else.

Baba figured that if he’d been able to say what he truly wanted to, “Have fun,” would have probably sounded more like, “I hope you die.” But then, that was just a guess.

With a haughty sniff, he asked, “Any questions?”

“Hm. Well let me see—”

The imp nodded, and as quickly as he’d appeared, vanished. Leaving Baba with a million and one questions and the disquieting feeling that that little imp was definitely
not
to be trusted.

“Thank you, Peabrain—”

Baba twirled at the sound of Calypso’s lyrical voice. The elemental had transformed yet again into a woman made entirely of water. Her gown was a living miasma of brightly colored beta fish swimming through streamers of emerald green sea kelp.

She smiled as she stretched her arms wide. “Well, what do you think of our games?”

More screaming.

This time, it sounded like someone had just met his or her doom. Not that death frightened Baba. She was on a first-name basis with him after all. Still, she’d like to know what the goddesses had forced her into.

Lips thinning, she tried to figure out a way to word her misgivings that wouldn’t cause the notoriously temperamental goddess to decide it was time to turn her into deep-sea blob.

“I hear what you’re saying.” Calypso nodded sagely.

Baba shouldn’t have been surprised that a goddess of such power was able to read her thoughts. She flicked her wrists. “What is this exactly? That’s mostly all I wish to know.”

Giving her a patient and forbearing smile, much like a mother would to her too stupid child, Calypso said, “Best if we just get this out all at once.”

Snapping her fingers, she caused the ground beneath Baba’s feet to shake. In a flash, she was no longer alone but staring at many other wide-eyed and beautiful faces.

Baba recognized all of them. There was Fiera with her fiery mane and silky sun-kissed skin in a gown of flowing flame, tossing her sister Caly a bored look. Next to her was Fable with skin dark as the deepest depths of the ocean and eyes of purest blue. If Baba wasn’t mistaken Fable, also known in certain parts as the dark queen, was also part of Calypso’s massive family tree. A niece or granddaughter maybe? Wearing a gown of smoke with her ebony hair twisted up in a severe knot on top of her head and brightly painted red lips, she was truly stunning, and rumor had it, incredibly powerful.

Though Baba wasn’t quite sure how. She narrowed her eyes at that one. If there was one thing Baba hated, it was not knowing the strengths and weaknesses of those around her. She balled her hands by her sides, digging her nails in deeply as a very bad feeling settled into her bones.

Beside Fable stood a fairy dressed entirely in blue. Even her hair was a shocking shade of blue. Her skin was firm and tight. She was pretty enough except for the sharp pointed fangs she exposed whenever she smiled. Baba dredged her memory banks for that name. It was right there, flitting on the tip of her tongue. She’d heard a story some years back of a fae creature Danika who’d broken a curse set on her by a fairy in blue long ago. Could it be this fae and that were the same? Again, Baba didn’t know much of fae culture and found herself at a loss and a distinct disadvantage. The fairy held a star-tipped wand tight to her chest, eyeing the rest of them with the same level of scrutiny and doubt.

But there were more: two more women, in fact. Well, one not entirely a woman. A centauress. A fine specimen of her kind with chestnut-colored withers and a stout human body. Her arms were strong looking, and banded tight around them were the golden cuffs denoting royalty. She was, no doubt, the queen of her people, and judging by the look of fury raging in her amber eyes, less than pleased to find herself here. Strapped to her back was a bow and quiver full of arrows, which caused Baba to shudder despite herself. Centaurs were legendary for their prowess with the bow.

And last, but certainly not least, was a dark skinned woman with hair that fell in thick dreads down to her waist. She wore a dark red leather halter and red leather pants. In her hand, she held only one thing: a silver flute, which meant she could be none other than Rayale, the Pied Piper. It was said that the sound of that flute playing was the very last sound one would ever hear.

Hm
. This was like the big leagues of legendary villainesses, and Baba didn’t know whether to laugh or throw a tantrum.

Aphrodite, who’d also appeared by her conspirator’s side, waved cheerfully at all of them. “Hello,” she sing-songed. “Now that we’re all acquainted, I think it’s time—”

The Centaur Queen stepped forward. “We’re hardly acquainted. I demand you tell us once and for—”

“Okay then—” Calypso held up her hand, which caused the centauress’ words to immediately cease. The only sound to issue forth was the croak of a dying animal.

Grabbing her throat with both her hands, the centauress gave both Dite and Caly a look of pure terror and rage, one that said without speaking that there’d be hell to pay for what they’d just done.

Baba lifted a brow, realizing she could no longer talk either. So that’s how this was to be played then. She almost rolled her eyes at the dramatic show of power. How very pedestrian of them.

“—this is how it’s gonna be. You’ve all been cordially invited to find your mates!” Calypso clapped her hands. Dite joined in.

“Oh, how fun. I do love sex,” Aphrodite added.

“I bet you do, sweetheart,” Caly teased.

No one else joined in on the clapping. The goddesses didn’t seem to care.

Smiling proudly, Calypso pressed on. “Because I like you all—”

“We. We like you all.” Dite pointed between the two of them, at which Calypso nodded resolutely.

This sounded already like a really bad sales pitch.

“Yes. Agreed. Because we like you, well, some more than others, and truthfully, I don’t even know most of you...” Calypso laughed, and the sound reminded Baba of a raging tsunami.

Good gods, was she to die of boredom, or did they plan to ever get on with it? Crossing her arms, she wrapped her fingers around her wrist and reminded herself that she probably shouldn’t tap her foot in frustration.

“But. But.” Aphrodite stepped up, holding up her hands. “We knew you’d appreciate our matchmaking efforts anyway—”

Highly doubtful
.

“—we took the liberty of bringing you along for the ride.”

Fable snorted. Calypso glared at her. “Dear granddaughter—”

Ah ha
! Baba knew it.

“I do so love you,” Caly said, “but interrupt us again, and I’ll be forced to turn you into a toad. No favoritism right now. You understand.”

Fable wisely kept her trap shut after that. They all did.

“Truth is, you all make a nice even number for our games,” Aphrodite admitted, “which is partly why you’re here but also because we determined that our males could only realistically be paired with the six of you. Believe me when a say a lot of time and thought went into who’d be given the honor of being chosen. You’ll each find your one true mate”—Dite held Baba’s stare long enough that Baba knew there was a message behind the look—“well, unless you don’t die first,” she finished airily.

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