Witch Glitch: Magic and Mayhem Book Two (5 page)

"Fine. You can call him Johnson and I'll call him Petey," I said with a shrug.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What happened to Bon Jovi?" he demanded realizing he might be losing quickly.

"I thought you didn't like Bon Jovi."

"Well it's certainly better than Petey," he huffed.

"Fine Bon Jovi it is," I said as I stood up, finished my girly hair do and yanked my dress over my head. "Put on your cap. You have to get under the covers and pull them up to your nose. I will then enter the room and we can just improvise."

My barely there panties and sheer bra clearly made the new moniker for his wank forgotten news. Men were so easy.

"I will be naked under the covers," he announced, daring me to disagree as he eyed me like prey.

"Well, duh. Of course you will," I told him as I sprinted from the room looking for the stairs. "Put on the cap or Bon Jovi will be singing the blues," I yelled over my shoulder.

The house was huge and I got lost as I searched for the stairs. Where in the hell were they? Of course I could stop running in circles and simply ask Roger the rabbit.

WTF?

What was Roger rabbit doing here? Had Mac lied? Was the bizarre and somewhat rude rabbit Shifter his freakin' son too?

"Good afternoon, Zelda," Roger choked out with large eyes as he took in my attire or rather lack there of.

"I'd hesitate to use the word good, Roger. Close your eyes," I demanded.

He did. Reluctantly—but he did.

"Now where in the hell are the stairs in this house?" I snapped.

"Down the hallway and on the left," he informed me. "Can I open my eyes now?"

"Nope. Next question. What are you doing here?"

"Who are you talking to?" Mac asked as he rounded the corner and stopped short when he spied a closed eyed Roger.

"I'm speaking to Roger rabbit and if he's another one of your sons, I'm out of here. I don't care how big your Bon Jovi is. This is not worth it."

"He's
not
my son," Mac said. "I only have one."

The silence was slightly awkward. Unfortunately, Roger decided to fill it.

"So you call your man rod Bon Jovi?" Roger asked with a shit-eating grin.

If looks could kill, I'd be dead from the one Mac was giving me.

"That's really none of your business," I quickly informed the nosy little assmunch. I actually felt guilty that I'd outed Mac's penis' new name to the town gossip. Everyone would know five minutes after Roger left.

Time to fix my blunder. "Please tell me you did not use the term
man rod
for a weenie."

"Um… maybe," Roger mumbled as his cheeks flamed red.

"Interesting. So, ahhh… clearly you watch a lot of porn. I wonder if everyone in town is aware of your hobby?" I said hoping I was onto something.

"Well, I… you see, I…" Roger stuttered.

Bullseye. I was definitely onto something.

"Wow, it would be really difficult to show your face at picnics if all the ladies in town knew you watched other people hump and moan twelve hours a day—fourteen on the weekends. But maybe everyone already knows," I said as I watched him quake in his little rabbit boots.

Roger's face had gone ashen and I felt kind of bad, but a girl had to protect her man's wanker's reputation. However, the rabbit looked like he might puke. If he puked, I would puke and I wanted to be Little Red Fucking Riding Hood. Time to end my game and win.

"How about this, Roger?" I offered as Mac watched me with raised brows and arms crossed over his ridiculously muscled chest. "You forget you ever heard the term Bon Jovi in association with Mac's
man rod
and I forget that you watch porn twenty-four seven. Deal?"

"You really wouldn't say anything?" he asked in a small voice.

"Witch’s Honor," I assured him.

I was still kind of shocked and completely grossed out that he watched so much porn. I'd pulled that one right out of my butt. Thank the Goddess I'd been correct.

"I never heard a word," Roger swore fervently. "In fact, I'm pretty sure I was never even here today at all."

"Which brings me back to my last question. What in the hell
are
you doing here?" I asked.

"Can I open my eyes?" he inquired casually.

Way too casually.

"No," Mac hissed as he revealed his possessive alpha self. "If you open your eyes I will gouge them out."

"That's not very hospitable, sweetie," I said as I pulled down my panties and showed him my left butt cheek.

"Roger, get to your point
now
," Mac shouted, obviously in sexually frustrated hell.

"Um… of course," Roger choked out as he trembled like a leaf. "I was here to inquire about Zelda's progress with the evil that lurks in our area."

"Right now Roger, you are the only evil that lurks," I informed him as Mac mooned me.

I bit back my giggle and realized Roger was still here and waiting for an answer. That sobered me.

Roger had a legit question. Not only was I the new Shifter Wanker, the go-to gal for fixing Shifter booboos, I was bound by honor to keep the magical balance and eliminate any danger in my area. Unfortunately there was danger in my area.

My Aunt Hildy, the former Shifter Whisperer, had been murdered in the most horrific way by honey badger Shifters. They'd used a blue liquiform solution to render her magic-less then had extracted her power with a huge, glowing syringe. Then they injected my aunt's magic into the head honey badger. Sadly, the way I knew this was their rubbery bastard leader had projected the horrid images into my mind right before I blew up his entire colony.

They were vying for power and by killing my aunt, they'd created chaos amongst the Shifters. The ugly bastard was smart, but not quick enough to outsmart me.

I left only him alive. After punching my fist into his chest—which was
beyond
fucking gross—I took back my aunt's magic and turned him over to the Witch Council. Baba Yaga, our slightly insane yet mostly fair leader, and her crew of icky older-than-the-beginning-of-time warlocks had taken him away. They had not been able to get any information out of the ugly bastard. That surprised me greatly. The Council was feared and revered for their rather unconventional methods of torture.

I'd been waiting for guidance from Baba Yodorkmamma and the Council, but since none was forthcoming it was time to get to work without them. Roger the cock-blocker had an excellent point along with having tremendously bad timing. I had a job to do and I wasn't doing it.

"It's stalled at the moment," I admitted to Roger.

His eyes flew open in shock and Mac tackled him ready to remove his peepers.

"No! Down boy," I shouted. "Roger was not ogling my boobs. Were you Roger?"

"Um…" he mumbled.

"You were
not
ogling my boobs," I told him hoping he would play along. Clearly the little pervert was ogling my boobs, but I would hate to try to heal eyes that had been separated from his body. The migraine I would get would preclude me from sexual activity for weeks.

"Mac, if you plan on getting laid this month, you will stop manhandling Roger."

"Close your eyes," Mac ground out to a whimpering Roger. "I am the only one who is allowed to see her naked."

"I'm not exactly naked," I told him.

"Well, pretty much," Roger chimed in and received a swift punch to the head.

"Roger, I'd suggest you zip it. Mac is a teeny weensy bit possessive and I think you'd like to keep your eye balls in their sockets," I said as I pulled Mac off of him.

"Yes, yes of course," Roger stammered as he got up and ran.

However, since his eyes were shut he hit the wall three times. He then knocked over two end tables and more than likely gave himself a slight concussion when he nailed the wrought iron coat stand before he made it out the front door.

His timing was not good, but his point was well made. I'd been avoiding finding the syringe and solution because I was happy for the first time in my life. Going after
the evil that lurked
was likely to end my new and cozy little life.

Wouldn't it just figure that I'd finally found my father and a guy who actually liked my crazy and I had to probably die by finding the lurking fucking evil? So. Not. Fair.

"You are not going after the evil alone," Mac said as he came up behind me and put his strong arms around me.

"Oh my Goddess, can you read my mind?" I demanded, alarmed that maybe he had more secret powers than I could deal with.

"Nope, your face. You're very expressive."

"You don't think I can do it alone?" I huffed indignantly as I extricated myself from his embrace.

He paused and stared. "I think you are capable of anything you put your mind to," he said slowly. "But, you don't have to go it alone anymore—or ever again."

Son of a bitch, first Naked Dude made me want to cry because he swallowed my spit and now Mac wasn't playing fair. No one had ever had my back. I'd always been on my own. I was swimming in the deep end without my ducky life-preservers. This was getting more dangerous than the evil that lurked. Shitballs on fire.

"Okay, here's the deal," I said, swallowing back my tears as I made a plan that would temporarily postpone the inevitable. "Since there's a fine chance that you or I or the entire town may die tomorrow when we go after the asscranking evil, I say we have sex five times today. Twice with the granny cap and three without. We forget about anything except massive orgasms and then eat some of Jeeves' leftovers. Deal?"

"No deal," Mac said as he put the granny cap on his head. "We have sex eight times—four with the granny cap and four without."

"Do we get to eat afterward?" I inquired liking the revision.

"I'll be eating the entire time, but I can always make room for some food."

"You are a total pig," I squealed with delight.

"Nope, I'm a wolf and I have a big tongue, Little Red Riding Hood."

My knees practically buckled, my nipples hardened to the point of pain and I made a sound that belonged in one of Roger's beloved porno flicks. If I didn't decide to be a wussy and leave town because everything was too good to be true, or if I didn't die in the next few days, I was so keeping Mac. Any man who would wear a granny cap, let me call his wanker Bon Jovi, made me lose my balance, and had a certifiably insane son who could win Iron Chef was a keeper.

"I like your terms. However, we are going to my place. I will not run the risk of letting Jeeves see you defile me dressed like an old woman. Plus my place is empty. Naked Dude is going to yoga at five."

"Put your clothes back on. Now," Mac insisted as he dragged me back to the kitchen. "If anyone sees you dressed like this, I'll have to rearrange their face and I don't have time for that today."

"For once I've got no problem with your bossy request," I said as I quickly dressed. His Neanderthal ways were actually growing on me—not that I would ever let him know. "No problem at all."

Chapter 6

"What the hell?" Mac shouted as he slammed the truck into park.

Mac's pick-up bucked and jerked as we ran over something large.

"Oh shit," I screeched. "What in the Goddess' name did we just back over?"

I blanched and had a sickening deja vu of backing over and killing Naked Dude when he had been my cat. Shitshitdamnshit. Had Roger passed out from a concussion and we'd just flattened him? If we had, I was going to have a bitch of a time healing that level of damage.

I white knuckled the dash and said a quick Hail Mary even though I wasn't even remotely Catholic.

Mac was out of the truck before I even had my seatbelt off. Damn, wolves were fast. In my panic to free myself I got completely tangled in the strap. I couldn't move. Wait. What the hell was I thinking? I’m a witch, damn it. With a quick flick of my fingers, the seatbelt disintegrated to dust and I was out of the passenger seat.

I was terrified until I took in the scene and then I was just pissed. How many more hairy buttball Shifters were going to mess with my sex life?

"Get out from under the truck, Chuck," I ground out through clenched teeth. "I only have an hour to get through the entire story of Little Red Riding Hood eight times and you are fucking that up. Pun intended."

"Not following you," Chuck grunted as he eased his enormous frame out from under the back wheels and knocked Mac's monster truck over in the process.

This was unbelievable. I refused to kill Chuck, but I was going to make it difficult for him to sit for a few days. A nice electrical zap to his backside should do the trick.

"My god, man," Mac said as he helped Chuck to his feet. "I'm so sorry. I didn't see you behind me."