Witch Glitch: Magic and Mayhem Book Two (3 page)

"No lies," I insisted.

His head dropped to his chest and he shook it from side to side. He heaved a sigh and then stared at the ceiling. "She said she would harm you unless I dropped my magic and let her do what she wanted."

"She harmed me my whole life," I countered. "Mostly emotionally."

"She never killed you," he replied woodenly.

That certainly shut me the hell up. I mentally calculated how much fucking therapy it was going to take to get rid of the lovely knowledge that my own mother had threatened to kill me.

"Well, that's fanfuckingtastic," I said with a hollow laugh. "Would she have done it?"

"Honestly, I don't know," Dude admitted. "I was not going to take that chance. You're my daughter."

"So you let her turn you into a cat?"

"I wouldn't say
let
… I had no clue what she was going to do," he said as he stood and removed the now empty bowl from in front of me.

"Oh my Goddess. She could have killed you."

The small bit of feeling I had for my mother had now evaporated. She was a monster.

Wrapping my brain around the fact that Fabio would have willingly died for me was more than I could handle. It made me happy, sad and furious all at once. The burning in my gut raced throughout my trembling body. The tablecloth was on fire before I even knew what had happened.

"Shitballs!" I shrieked.

Thankfully Naked Dude was one step ahead and doused the flames with a flick of his hand.

I really
didn't
have control of my magic. Fury was going to either get us all killed or burn my house down.

"Sorry," I mumbled as I quickly sat on my hands. "We should probably start my lessons soon. Like yesterday."

"We will start them tomorrow. I'll tell you all about your Aunt Hildy, and we will figure out how to keep you from being a magical menace," Dude said.

"Do you think the world will be safe from me till then?"

"I certainly hope so. I have a yoga lesson at five."

"Um… that's just weird."

"You think me doing yoga is weird after everything we've just talked about?" he asked as he rinsed the bowl and placed it in the dishwasher.

"Yep, I do."

"My kid says the darndest things," he replied with a delighted smile.

"Oh my Goddess." I groaned and giggled. "You loved saying that, didn't you?"

"Yes. Yes I did."

Chapter 3

Mac looked good enough to eat and smelled like heaven. Dark wavy hair, blue eyes, lashes that belonged on a girl, a body to die for and a face that would make the Goddess weep.

Tall, dark and redonkulously handsome, I was into him like I'd never been into anyone. This of course meant I had to give him a lot of shit. It was unacceptable to let him know how much I liked him—very dangerous for a commitment-phobe loner like me.

"So, pretty girl, you ready for seven today?" Mac asked with a lopsided grin that made me want to jump him and play tonsil hockey.

He leaned on my front door jamb and waited for my answer.

Wait. What the hell was number seven?

I picked imaginary lint off of my dress while I ransacked my brain trying to figure out what he meant. Shit, I knew what sixty-nine was, but seven? Not so much. Should I just pretend I knew what position number seven was or did I come clean? I mean, I wasn't wildly experienced, but I wasn't a virgin either. Was number seven some kind of weird Shifter sex term that I was unaware of?

Son of a bitch. Thirty years on this earth and I had no clue what number seven meant.

"I thought this was number six," Naked Dude remarked sourly as he sat on the couch and pretended to read the paper.

"Holy shit, there's a number six I don't know about too?" I asked bewildered.

Both of the men in my life stared at me as if I was daft.

"You lost me," Mac said.

"Me too," Naked Dude added as he gave Mac the 'evil dad eye'.

"Fairly sure I'm lost too," I mumbled as I tried to push Mac out the front door before we all had to work this one out.

"Oh dear Goddess," Naked Dude choked out, tossing the paper aside and joining us in the foyer. "You thought it was a sexual position?"

"You know what," I groused, as I felt the heat crawl up my neck and land squarely on my cheeks. "Fathers who still wish they could lick their own nads should not talk to their daughters about sex. You are excused from the room. Now."

Fabio slunk away desperately trying not to laugh. I was definitely rethinking my irrational need for a parental unit. I didn't need anyone to embarrass me. I did fine on my own.

"The seventh date," Mac said graciously as put his hand over his mouth to hide his smile. "This is our seventh date of fifteen where no one can die."

"I knew that," I lied without making eye contact.

Mac was sure I was his mate. I considered his claim to be utter bullshit. I was a witch and he was a wolf. Witches mated, but usually with other witches and it wasn't exactly binding. Shifters on the other hand mated for life and we all lived a freakin' long time. I had no plans to blow out puppies. The sexy wolf had repeatedly assured me that this would not be the case. However, I was still investigating.

I was wildly attracted to the bossy, hotter than asphalt in August alpha wolf, but I was also terrified. First of all, the mating ritual involved biting—the kind that broke the skin. While I was down with a little spanky-spanky, biting didn't sound very appealing. Not to mention the fact we didn't really know each other that well.

My solution to the entire matter was that we date each other. He had to take me on fifteen dates where no one died, considering our first date a whole bunch of bad guys died. To be fair, I'd killed most of the bad guys, but it felt like bad karma to start out that way. Fifteen dates also bought me time to run if I couldn't handle it.

"I didn't know that," I admitted sheepishly. "I thought it was some bizarre Shifter sex thing."

"I can certainly make that a reality," Mac said as he ran his thumb along my jaw and raised my chin so our eyes met.

"I'm sure you could," I replied primly and tried not to giggle.

Mac was a freakin' animal in the sack or on the floor or in the shower or on his motorcycle. I hadn't had many lovers, but I was quite sure he'd ruined me for other men.

"So date number seven," I said as I leaned into his warm body.

"Yep, gonna have a good old death-free time."

There wasn't a whole hell of a lot to do in Assjacket, West Virginia and I wondered what he had in mind for our outing.

"Actually, I was thinking we could go to the woods by the river and play Little Red Riding Hood," I suggested. "You know, I say,
'Oh my, what a big tongue you have'
. And then you say,
'The better to lick you with'
."

"Are you sure that's how the story goes?" he inquired with a grin as he copped a feel of my ass and gently pushed me out the front door.

"Yes. Yes, I am positive that's how the story goes."

"That is
NOT
how the story goes," Naked Dude shouted from somewhere upstairs in the house.

"Oh my, what
big
ears you have," I yelled back before I grinned at Mac. "Let's get out of here before he insists on joining us."

Mac shuddered and quickened his pace. "Good thinking, Little Red—very good plan."

***

We did go to the woods, but it wasn't exactly deserted enough for me to start spouting sexed up lines from a fairy tale. Nope. Mac took me to a house in the woods. To be more specific—Mac took me to his house.

It was enormous, a beautiful log cabin with a rustic wraparound porch. It was nestled into the side of a tree-covered hill and looked like it belonged in a magazine. The roof was covered with skylights and I counted at least four chimneys. It was masculine and big—just like its owner. A shiver skittered up my spine. This was getting messy. Messy was bad.

"I'm not sure we know each other well enough for me to see your home," I said as I held my seatbelt shut in the front seat of his monster pick-up truck.

"Zelda, I've been to your place every day for the past few weeks. We've had sex in every room except your father's. It's time to for you to see our house."

He had mumbled the end of the sentence, probably hoping I missed the
our
part… I didn't.

"Can we play Little Red Riding Hood here?" I inquired as I screwed up my courage to get out of the vehicle and see the home of the man I'd been having illicitly spectacular relations with.

"It's not beyond the realm of possibilities," he said with a sexy grin. "But my cook has prepared lunch and I thought I could get you to help me with some ideas for redecorating."

"Very crafty," I congratulated him. "Food and spending money on pretty things. Nice date."

"I thought so," he said as he unsnapped my seat belt and pulled me to him.

His lips grazed my jaw and he buried his face in my neck. Another shiver consumed me, but this one was far more pleasurable.

"Come on," he said as he pulled me out of his truck.

His excitement was cute and somewhat contagious. However, my tummy was flipping like a clogging festival on moonshine. This felt serious. Serious was not part of my repertoire. It reminded me of having to meet the parents of my former boyfriends. Parents never liked me. Of course Mac's parents had died so I couldn't use that excuse for my trepidation.

I had to stall or possibly run. Being that I didn't know the area well, running wasn't my best option. Of course I could always just poof away with a wiggle of my nose or a flick of my hand, but I was trying just to use my magic only for the benefit of others. This was difficult since I was fairly selfish by nature, but I was trying.

"Mac, how long ago did your parents die?" I asked as I bent down to examine a rock, a stick and some colorful fallen leaves.

His smirk revealed he was in on my paranoia. "They died a long time ago. I still miss them."

"How long?" I inquired as I feigned intense interest in a clump of dirt.

"It's been about sixty years," he said.

I froze. Sixty years? How the hell old was the man I'd been playing hide-the-salami with?

"Um, Mac… can I ask you a question?"

"If I say no will that stop you?"

I thought about it for a brief moment. "Probably not."

"Ask away, pretty girl."

Did I want the answer to the question? What if he was as old as my dad? I mean I knew magical races lived for hundreds of years, but this was slightly disconcerting. Shithumpers. To ask or not to ask?

Ask. I always asked. "Exactly how old are you?" I whispered and then held my breath.

"Isn't it rude to ask a person their age?"

"Are you a girl?"

"Not last time I checked," he said as he squatted down next to me.

"Then no, it's not even remotely rude."

"You sure you want the answer, Zelda?"

I thought back to the earlier question I'd asked Naked Dude and the appalling answer I'd received. As I tried to forget the mind-boggling amount of man whores my mother had consorted with, I paused.

Did his age really matter?

No.

Would it change the wildly inappropriate need to slam him to the ground and ride him like a bronco while screaming Yeehaw?

No.

Would it change the alarming fact that I might be falling for the beautiful man next to me?

No.

Would it give me an excuse to get out of something that was way over what I might be able to handle and would surely screw up?

Yes. Yes it would.

"I want to know," I said.

He expelled a slow breath and I tensed.

"I'm seventy-five. I was fifteen when my parents were killed."

Not much rendered me silent, but this did.

Thankfully Mac was not as old as my dad. That would have skeeved me out. Naked Dude was around two hundred years old. However, I was thirty and that made the man I was doing the nasty with forty-five years older than me. The math was heinous. He could be my grandfather if we were human. But we weren't quite human and Mac looked the same age as me. It certainly didn't seem to bother him if the bulge in his jeans was any indication.

"This won't work. We don't have the same pop culture references," I said as I shredded the leaves in my hands.

"I beg to disagree," he shot back. "Favorite bands?"

"Maroon Five, Journey and AC/DC. Yours?"