Witch Glitch: Magic and Mayhem Book Two (6 page)

"Of course you didn't," I snapped. "Because Chuck was hiding under the wheel wanting you to mow his idiot ass down. Isn't that correct, Chuck?"

Chuck grinned and shrugged. "You got me pegged, Zelda."

"Okay," Mac said as he pressed his temples. "Now, I'm not following."

I glared at Chuck who didn't appear to be forthcoming with an explanation. Shaking my head and yanking on my pigtails, I slowly blew out a long breath. I was this close to making Chuck's death wish come true. That would be terribly wrong. I could end up back in the magic pokey, which would suck, and I liked Chuck. Not so much at the moment… but generally speaking.

"Chuck here is trying to off himself. I don't know why and he won't tell me because he could end up naked in a black hole somewhere," I explained to a now very befuddled Mac.

"It's actually a time warp with elevator music," Chuck corrected me.

"Whatever," I yelled as a colorful burst of flame flew from my fingertips narrowly missing Chuck's smiling and very handsome face. "I do not have time for this. I am supposed to have the big O eight times before I bite the big one tomorrow."

"How are you going to do that?" Chuck inquired with interest.

"Seriously?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Well, um… okay. I'm going to put on a red cape over only my bra and panties and Mac is going to wear a granny cap. He's going to be naked under the covers and pretend to be the Big Bad Wolf. And then I'm going to…"

"No, no, no, no, no," Chuck gasped out trying unsuccessfully not to laugh.

Mac began to walk in tight circles shaking his head.

"Not that part," Chuck said with a chuckle and a wink to a mortified Mac. "I get that part. Well, kind of… the granny cap is a little unsettling. I was talking about the ‘bite it’ part. How are you going to do that?"

"I'm done," I snapped. "You will tell me right now why you're trying to kill yourself."

"Can't," Chuck replied.

"Won't," I shot back.

"That too," he agreed with a smile.

This was bullshit. I marched right over to the cryptic bear and smacked his arm. Chuck and I stood nose to nose. Well actually we stood with my nose to his belly button because he was at least seven feet tall. However, I was not backing down. It was time for the big oaf to come clean.

"Color me clueless," Mac cut in.

"With a sexually frustrated Bon Jovi," I added.

"Not helping, Little Red," Mac said.

"Sorry," I muttered and made a silent zip the lip motion.

"What does Bon Jovi have to do with anything?" Chuck asked.

Now we were all confused.

"Nothing," I said quickly. "Bon Jovi has nothing to do with anything at all. Ever. Nothing. Not a thing."

"Your lips are zipped," Mac reminded me with a huge sigh. "Do not say anything else. Please."

I gave him a weak thumbs up and backed away from Chuck a bit so I wouldn't feel so inclined to put my two cents in every other word. Hard, but doable. Maybe.

"Chuck," Mac said. "You have some explaining to do. Has something happened? It's against the laws of nature and our people to kill yourself. As your King, I forbid it."

Chuck went to his knees before Mac and stared straight up at him. An intensity that I could feel passed between the two men and I watched in fascination. It was starkly beautiful and I felt completely left out. We're they talking? I strained to hear, but leaves rustling in the wind were the only sound in the air.

Dang it, was this another Shifter thingie?

"I understand," Mac said quietly to Chuck as he placed his hand on the bear's head. "But you have to understand that our community is in danger right now and I need you. You are one of my strongest fighters. Until the threat is contained or gone, I will not give you my blessing to leave us. Are we clear?"

Chuck looked pained, but nodded respectfully. "Yes, Sire. You have my word."

I was dying here. I hated not being in on the secret, but I'd bet every bit of uncontrolled magic I had that no one was going to make me any wiser. Crap.

However, there was one thing I wanted clarified.

"Can I speak?" I burst out, louder than I intended as both men jumped.

"Apparently you can," Mac said with a grin. "And no, I can't tell you anything."

"I know," I griped. "That's not what I want to ask. Well, it is, but I won't."

"Uh huh," Mac said with raised brows and a skeptical look on his face.

"Seriously," I promised. "I can respect private stuff—kind of. But I don't get something," I said to Chuck.

"What's that?" Chuck inquired as he carefully righted Mac's truck.

"I thought you had to bite the bullet at my house. Was that a lie?"

"No," Chuck explained. "It would be better is I did it there, but now I figure as long as I do it near you everything would work out just fine."

"Let me get this straight," I said not liking where this was going. "You're telling me that if I live through taking care of the lurking fucking evil, I have watching you off yourself as something to look forward to?"

"It sounds kind of depressing when you put it that way," Chuck said, scratching his head.

"Is there another way to put it?" I demanded.

"Um… none I can think of," he replied and gave me a quick hug. "And just so you know, I call mine Superman."

"You call your what Superman?" I asked.

Chuck was weird and clearly unbalanced.

"My Bon Jovi," he informed Mac and me with a loud guffaw as he loped off into the woods. "Oh, and I stopped by your house and fixed the fridge. Made a little mess, but I cleaned it up."

At least he hadn't offed himself. It would suck massive donkey balls to go home to that.

"Thanks." I yelled after him.

"No, problem," he said still laughing as he disappeared into the tree line.

"Shit," I mumbled as I stared up at the sky. "I should have left well enough alone. Johnson wasn't that bad."

"You figure?" Mac asked with a smirk.

"Yesssssssss," I said. "However, since the word is out, I'm sticking with Bon Jovi."

"Fine," he said way too agreeably. "What do you call yours?"

I gaped at him and tried to think fast on my feet. My woowoo didn't actually have a name. I'd never been vain or stupid enough to name her.

"Um…"

"I was thinking either Katie Couric or Miley Cyrus," he suggested while he casually dusted off his truck.

Sweet Mother of the Goddess. I had no come back. I was so confused about the connection between Katie Couric and Miley Cyrus that I was totally mute. Plus, I was not naming my vajayjay after a morning news anchor or a twerker with a two-foot tongue.

What to do… what to do… what to do…

"Ummmm…"

"Or how about Queen Elizabeth?" he suggested mildly as he continued to check his fucking truck for damage.

"Do you hate me?" I shouted as I plopped down on the ground and sat on my hands. I was so wound up, I was worried I would zap him or blow his pick up to smithereens.

I was not naming my girlie parts any of those names. Ever. If I had to pick one I'd pick Little Red Riding Hood, but that was entirely too long to yell in the throws of passion. Plus I would laugh.

"Not even a little bit," Mac said grinning from ear to ear.

If he wasn't so stupidly handsome, I'd smite the smile right off his face.

"Okay, fine," I said in defeat. "You can call your
man rod
Johnson."

"Nope, I'll stick with Bon Jovi."

"What exactly does that mean for my vahooha?" I asked, terrified of the potential answer.

"I suppose we could go with Little Red Riding Hood," he replied with a smirk.

"Oh my hell," I cried out. "You
can
read minds."

"Only a mind that talks as loud as yours does."

"What have I gotten myself into?" I muttered as I stood up and let him take his chances with my erratic magic.

"A whole lot of trouble and a whole lot of fun."

I stared at the beautiful man in front of me for a long moment. What really sucked and scared me the most was that he was as gorgeous on the inside as he was on the outside. His people respected him. He'd adopted a freak because no one else would take him. He was kind and fair and hotter than Satan's boxer briefs. And the simple fact that he could put up with me was making me let my guard down. Not smart—not smart at all.

Of course, I didn't buy the whole ‘I'm your mate’ thing, but mate or not I was falling fast and hard. I never fell fast and hard… I never fell at all.

Too much introspective thought was giving me a headache. Luckily I knew a sure cure for a headache. Eight big O's.

"Alrighty then," I said reasonably. If I couldn't beat him, I should probably get laid. "Let's go to my house and introduce Little Red Riding Hood to Bon Jovi."

"Sounds like a plan, sexy girl."

"If we hurry we can get to the part of the story where I say, 'Oh my! What a big Bon Jovi you have' and then you can say… "

"Um, Zelda?"

"Yes?"

"I definitely know what to say then."

"Oh, okay. Then let’s go. And make sure Chuck didn't sneak back here and wedge his big fat bear ass under the hood. That would activate my gag reflex."

"Roger that, sexy. Get in the car. Now."

"You're awfully bossy," I said with a grin.

"Yep, Big Bad Wolves are very bossy," he answered as he slapped my butt and put me in the truck. "You got a problem with that?"

"Not today, Hot Stuff. Definitely not today."

Chapter 7

"Let's go to my room and get ready," I said as I slammed the front door behind us and took the stairs two at a time. "Strip and put on the cap. We clear?"

"Yep," Mac said from behind me as he scooped me up and took the stairs three at a time. "You actually have a red cape?"

"I do," I squealed gleefully as he tossed me onto the bed and began to quickly remove his clothes. "It's Chanel. Fabio procured it for me. Wouldn't he just have a fit if he knew what I was wearing it for?"

"I'd have to say yes to that." Mac chuckled and continued to strip. "Should I shift?"

"Um, no. That would be kind of weird," I said as I fastened the cape and adjusted my pigtails.

"I thought we were playing Little Red Riding Hood."

He stopped undressing and stood half naked and perplexed in the middle of my bedroom.

"Operative word being
play
," I explained as I considered jumping his partially clad body and having my way with him. No. That would ruin the game and I already had on my costume.

"But wouldn't it be more realistic if I shifted into my wolf?" he asked.

"Do you want to get laid?" I inquired as I popped on some fabu red stilettos that Naked Dude had probably shop lifted for me.

"What kind of question is that?" Mac demanded as he gestured to his painfully erect Bon Jovi.

"A legit one. Big hairy things on four legs do not get laid by witches in red capes. Hot studs with nice Bon Jovis do. Period."

"
Nice
?" he yelled. "You think my Bon Jovi is
nice
?"

"Oh my hell," I muttered under my breath. "I meant ginormous, magical and the best I've ever had in my life."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now get in the bed," I instructed, trying not to giggle. Mac was putty in my hands. Well actually steel, but…

"You do realize that my Bon Jovi is the only one you will be allowed to look at, touch or play with ever again," he informed me in a brook-no-bullshit alpha tone.

"You do realize you just referred to your
man rod
as Bon Jovi," I shot back wanting to avoid the whole mating issue. I wanted to have sex, not an argument about his archaic beliefs.

"I'm getting used to it," he said. "And you are avoiding it."

"I would never avoid your Bon Jovi," I said quickly as I opened my cape hoping to distract him with my boobs.

He was moving too fast. I wasn't a Shifter. I was a witch and a commitment-phobe to boot. The whole mating thing was alarming. I'd never kept a boyfriend for longer than a month. He was smoking crack to think I could give him a lifetime no matter how spectacular his Bon Jovi was.

"You're avoiding your fate," he said.

"I thought fate was unavoidable," I said with an eye roll.

"It is," he said smugly. "Which is why I haven't chained you up in my house."