Wizard in a Witchy World Read online

  Hopefully, Amak was in good enough shape to drive. She'd kept up with me drink for drink, but something told me she metabolized alcohol much faster than I did.

  I woke the next morning to a pounding headache and the sound of banging on my plywood front door.

  "Oooh," I groaned and tried to roll over. A heavy arm lay across me and I picked it up, recognizing the dark purple nail polish that Amak had been wearing the night before. I twisted my head too quickly, which sent fresh pain lancing through my eyes.

  Amak's eyes were open and she was studying me.

  "Shit," I said.

  "I knew it," Amak said, pushing off from the bed. She was completely naked and, man, was she a sight. Her abs rippled as she stood and looked for her clothing.

  The loud banging at the door continued.

  "Did we?" I asked.

  "Yes. Don't say it though," she said.

  It caused me immeasurable pain to slide to the side of the bed, but my brain caught up with what she was thinking. I grabbed her arm as she leaned down to grab her leather dress from the floor.

  "Say what? That you're ridiculously hot?" I asked.

  "Don't try to take it back, Slade," she said. "I heard you."

  "Shit just means I woke up and didn't remember anything. It's not like I have visitors very often. I'd sure like to remember it."

  She looked at me, mistrust in her eyes. "You mean that?"

  "That and what the hell was in those drinks? My head is pounding," I said. "It was an all-purpose, 'Oh-Shit.'"

  I pulled the reluctant Amak onto the bed next to me and yelled, "Hold on!" at the front door.

  "It's just that this is where I typically get the boot," she said.

  I looked up into her face, inspecting my feelings. Beyond the drinks, I didn't feel any regret. I wasn't sure where last night put our relationship, but I wasn't about to ask her to leave, especially as vulnerable as she seemed.

  "Let me see what's going on out there and then maybe we could get some breakfast," I said.

  She grimaced. "You don't have to do that."

  The knocking continued. This wasn’t doing my hangover any favors.

  "That's your call, but I hope you stay. If I don't get this door, my head's going to explode."

  She grinned.

  I pulled my jeans on and a t-shirt from the floor and made my way to the front door. When I pushed open the plywood, I wasn't overly surprised to see Red standing there.

  "Hey, Gabriella. What’s up?" I tried not to sound hostile, but wasn't sure I'd succeeded.

  "Can I come in?" she asked, stepping forward, pushing me back.

  "Uh, sure. Come on in."

  "I just wanted to explain about yesterday," she said. "I should have told you about Brian."

  "Who's there?" Amak called as she exited the bathroom. She'd pulled on one of my shirts and a pair of my jeans, which she'd rolled up to look like capris. I shook my head. I might not ever be able to wear those jeans again now that I knew what they could look like.

  "Amak?" Gabriella asked, looking over to me. "Are you fricking kidding me?"

  YARN AND A COMPASS

  "You slept with a troll?" Gabriella hurled the question at me. "Have you no self-respect?"

  My mind whirled, looking for a snappy comeback and finding nothing. Amak covered the distance between the bathroom and Gabriella in a flash. We were headed for dangerous territory.

  "Whoa, turn down the volume," I said. My head was pounding and I didn't need this blowing up on me. "And a gentleman never tells, but I can say that I woke up warm and friendly-like this morning. What do you want, Red?"

  "Hold on. I want to get back to the self-respect thing," Amak said.

  "Time to let the adults talk," Gabriella said, placing her hand on Amak's chest. Just like before, Amak's eyes glazed over and the anger left her face. "Now go sit down."

  "What the hell was that?" I asked.

  "Trolls are lesser beings, Felix. We don't screw the help," she said. "You should be ashamed."

  "Ashamed because I took advantage of her or ashamed because she's beneath you?"

  "Take your pick, but I'm not arguing about this. I'm on my way to work. I wanted to see if you made any progress on Clarita and if you wanted a ride to City Impound," she said.

  "No. I don't need a ride and yes, I made progress on Clarita. I think I can track Shaggy's location. I was hoping we could find where they're holding Clarita," I said. "And for your information, I enjoyed hanging out with Amak."

  "How?"

  "She's not complicated. We had drinks, danced, and she gave me a ride home. I don't see the big deal," I said.

  "I meant - how can you track Shaggy? Your thing with Amak is your own," she said.

  I patted my pants pocket and didn't find my Shaggy compass. "Amak, did you see that bottle I was carrying last night?" I asked.

  "Check the bathroom." The glazed, blissful look on her face was disturbing. I headed for the bathroom and she called, “It’s in the cabinet.”

  Sure enough, the Shaggy compass was right next to my toothpaste.

  "Nice memory," I said when I got back to the living room.

  "Like she had a choice," Gabriella said.

  "Knock it off," I said. "Amak was more than a willing participant, as you'd know if you've been talking with Camille."

  "Not what I meant. She's still under my compulsion," Gabriella said.

  "Oh. Sorry. Although I think compulsion is creepy," I said.

  "Can we call a truce?" she asked. "I feel bad about letting things get out of hand between us. And you're right, what you and Amak do isn't my business."

  "Knock off compulsion spells when I'm around and we'll have a deal," I said.

  "Fine." She flicked her hand at the space between her and Amak.

  I handed her the jar with the cork and needle floating in the Shaggy tainted water. "I call it my Shaggy compass."

  "What's it doing?" she asked.

  "Always points at Shaggy. Doesn't tell us where he is right away, but with a map and a real compass, I can figure it out," I said.

  "How?"

  "Basic geometry. Go to work and I'll have this worked out by later this afternoon," I said.

  "Be careful," she said. "Shaggy meant business yesterday."

  I helped her back out of the plywood that covered my door.

  When I reentered the apartment, Amak was waiting for me. "Thanks," she said.

  "For?"

  "Standing up for me. Never had a person do that."

  "Then you haven't known very many good people."

  She shrugged. "The witches aren't bad. They're scared we'll turn on them."

  It was too deep of a conversation for my current physical shape. "My head is splitting," I said. "What'd Rose put in those drinks?" I poured two glasses of water, handed one to Amak and chugged my own.

  "Did you mean what you said about how you wished you remembered last night, Slade?" Amak asked.

  "Do you hang around with very many men? Of course I do, that's mostly the point."

  "It's just most men are scared when they see the real me."

  "Don't get me wrong. In the dungeon, when you were big and angry, you were scary. In the bar, when we were dancing and you let your guise down – pretty damn sexy," I said. "And my friends call me Felix."

  Amak crossed the room and stood close in, definitely invading my personal space. I ran my hand down her long arm and looked up into her face. She'd dropped her glamour and stood exposed. Sure, there were a few things that set her apart from humans, but otherwise, she was just a very tall, extraordinarily fit, woman.

  "Is everything a test with you?" I asked. "I'm not flinching here, Amak. I'm not sure what last night makes us, but it feels like you're trying to figure out if I can handle it."

  "You're a strange one, Slade. The reason you can't remember last night is because I mixed a little something in your drink to let you forget," she said.

  I pushed away from her. "You drugged me? Why?
How's that different from what the witches do to you?"

  "I don't like how human men treat me after we spend the night. Even though they can't really see me, they know," she said. "It's better for everyone this way."

  "If you want to be my friend, you'll let me make that decision for myself. If I'm disgusted, I'd think you'd want to know that."

  "Who said anything about being friends?" Amak asked as she walked back to the bedroom.

  "You're just using me?" I asked. "Shit. Two women in the same damn day. I must have sucker written on my face somewhere."

  "Must have," she replied as she scooped up her leather dress in one hand and panties in the other.

  She'd turned just enough and I reacted without thinking, which given our physical difference wasn't the smart play. I pushed her shoulders and she fell back onto the bed, roaring angrily. I pressed my advantage and jumped onto her, attempting to pin her arms. It was an ill-conceived move, showing how little I understood her strength. With a deft move and the grace of a leopard, she flipped both of us over.

  "You have a death wish?" she growled. Her eyes had turned cat-like, something I'd failed to previously notice.

  "Feel sorry for yourself, much?" I stared into her eyes with a challenge. So the effectiveness was pretty weak considering the fact that she was now on top of me, holding my arms to the bed.

  She let go and pushed off, trying to extricate herself. I grabbed her legs and pulled her back on top of me.

  "What are you doing, Slade?" she asked.

  "Felix." I reached up and grabbed her waist, pulling her to me. She gave in a little and allowed her hands to come to rest on the bed on either side of my head.

  "You really want to do this?"

  "Lights on and everything, Amak," I said.

  She lifted back up, still sitting on me and crossed her arms in front of her, grabbing my t-shirt and pulling upward, exposing her body from the waist up as she did. I followed the cloth with my hands, running them over her warm skin up to her small breasts. She groaned, tossing my shirt to the side. I pulled her down into a long kiss, tusks and all. Turns out, I just didn't notice them that much. As she kicked off my jeans, I found I could barely contain myself. It had been over a year (at least as far as I could remember) and she was every bit the woman - and then some. I ran my hands over her body, exploring her every curve and as I did, she rocked against me. Whatever mistrust she'd felt dissipated as the morning slipped by.

  When we finally separated, I was exhausted and unable to move. Amak lay next to me for a few minutes, then got up and I heard the shower start. I slid out of bed, pulled on my pants for the second time that morning and padded out to the kitchen. I filled a kettle with water, put it on the stove to heat and then pulled out cups, coffee and single serve drip filters. By the time I had water boiling, Amak had re-emerged from the bathroom and was putting her own clothes on.

  "I don't have much for breakfast, but I have homemade cookies," I said, pouring water over the coffee grounds and sliding the open bag of frozen cookies across the counter.

  "I gotta get going," she said, biting into a cookie.

  I wrapped a second cookie in a napkin. "You can take it to go."

  "Damn, these are good," she said.

  "Landlord made 'em. She's awesome."

  "You know I'm going to report most of last night to Camille, right?" she asked.

  I chuckled. "I'd like to be a fly on the wall for that."

  She smiled back at me. "You're not what I expected from a wizard."

  "I guess that makes us even," I said. She raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask for clarification. "Any chance you want to join us hunting Shaggy tonight?"

  "You sure it won't piss off your girlfriend?" she asked.

  "She's definitely not my girlfriend." I didn’t know what to think of Gabriella at the moment.

  "That's not what her scent says."

  "Don't you have to get to work?" While I found her physical differences to be interesting, her ability to smell people's responses to each other kind of grossed me out.

  She tipped the cup of coffee, finishing it in a single swallow and set it down on the counter.

  "I do."

  I followed her to the makeshift plywood door.

  "I'll text you if I free up," she said.

  "Later."

  I checked the time on my phone. It was nine-thirty. I dialed city impound and talked to a clerk who must have been used to talking to irritated people. Or maybe she just preferred people to be irritated, I wasn't sure which. She obviously knew what I was trying to find out, but made me pose the question three different ways before she gave me a serious answer. I finally learned that if I showed up with three hundred dollars, I could have my truck back.

  I fished in my wallet to find Angela's business card and punched her number into my phone.

  "Angela Feland," she answered professionally. It worked against the image I had of the woman who'd driven me around.

  "Angel. It's Felix Slade from last night. Do you have any availability today? I need to get my truck outta hock."

  "Felix Slade. Wonderful. Yes, of course," she said, overly cheerily. "Text me your address, I'll leave right away."

  "Perfect." I hung up and texted her my address. I had at least twenty minutes, so I pulled out the 'Taxonomy on Extraordinary Creatures' Gabriella and I had been looking through. I began re-familiarizing myself with what the Benedictines knew about werewolves.

  Angel must have been closer than I'd expected, as I soon heard the crunch of gravel and the toot of a car horn. I stuffed my book into a leather shoulder bag and swallowed the rest of my coffee.

  "Where to, boss?" Angela asked as I opened the passenger door. I slid the front seat back and sat in the chair next to her.

  "I need an ATM and then to the city impound," I said.

  She backed up and started down the hill toward the center of town. "Did you have a nice time at Rose and Crown last night?"

  "Best time I've had in months," I said.

  "You're definitely in a better mood than you were when I picked you up in the country last night," she said with a knowing grin. "I can read auras and yours is brighter today."

  She was shading the truth in her statement. No doubt she believed she could read auras, but I suspected not as directly as she was implying. It wouldn't take a full witch to see that I was in a better mood than when I'd left Joe last night.

  A few minutes later she pulled over to an ATM and I withdrew the cash I'd need to get the truck out of hock. I was burning through cash at an alarming rate and was tempted to go get my sixty bucks back from that blasted morgue tech.

  "Here we are," she announced when we arrived at the gate to the impound lot.

  "Looks like it's open this time," I said. "Thanks for the ride."

  "Any time." She handed me her phone with a signature box displayed. I checked a nice tip, completed the transaction and worked to disentangle myself from the small car. She drove off with her hand out the window, waving.

  The reception area for the impound lot was small and grimy. Nineteen seventies era dark wood paneling, a stained, drop ceiling with fluorescent lights, and the stench of old cigarettes assaulted my senses as I walked in. A heavy man in grease stained overalls sat on a stool behind the tall, chipped counter that separated staff from customers. His attention was on a hidden T.V. mounted beneath the counter, the sound of a laugh track filling the room.

  I walked over, stood at the counter and looked at him, not wanting to interrupt his show. He was content to let me hang out indefinitely. I finally lost our battle of wills.

  "I'm here to pick up my truck. I called earlier?" I said.

  He pulled out a clipboard and handed it to me. "Fill it out," he said. I wanted to slug him. He'd let me stand there for five minutes. I filled in the information and pushed it back in his direction.

  "Three hundred," he said, still not looking at me.

  I placed the cash on the counter.

  He scoope
d it up and held it, still watching his show.

  "I'll need a receipt," I said.

  Absentmindedly, he scrawled out a receipt and handed it to me. "Have a seat. We'll bring it right up."

  I raised an eyebrow but didn't push it. I was in his domain and didn't need to cause trouble. I sat in one of the ugly orange-cushioned, metal chairs. The smell of things I didn’t want to consider assaulted me as I did and I stood back up and paced.

  When the sound of a commercial didn't pry him from his chair, I approached the counter again.

  "If you give me the keys, I'll just grab it," I said.

  "Can't. Insurance," he said, not looking up.

  "Forty bucks?" I asked, pushing him mentally.

  This got his attention and he looked squarely at me. "You trying to bribe a public official?"

  "Look, Hal," I said, reading the nametag sewn into his overalls. "I just want my truck." I wasn't going to point out to him that he was far from being a public official.

  He reached under the counter and I readied myself for action. Who knew what this guy might be packing under there. Fortunately, he only tossed my keys onto the counter.

  "Leave your money on the counter. I'm just effing with you," he said.

  I scooped up my keys, dropped two twenties in their place and walked out the back door into an empty mechanic's bay open to the yard. I scanned rows of tightly-packed vehicles and finally found my truck. Fortunately, it was on the end and not trapped, but I had to climb through the passenger's side to get in. I wasn't surprised to see the contents of my glovebox dumped onto the seat.

  Finally, I backed out and made my way to the exit. Hal waved me down as I approached. He’d dropped a bar across the drive. I rolled the window down but didn't turn off the truck.

  "What's up?" I asked.

  "You're not cleared," he said. "There's a hold on your sheet."

  "From who?"

  "Doesn't matter. Get out of the truck," he said.

  "No," I said. "Who has the hold?"

  "That's not how this works." He pulled his puffy brown vest aside showing a pistol in his belt.

  I wouldn't be effective pushing him again, so I did the next best thing. I waved my hand, undoing his belt. The weight of the gun pulled his pants to the ground.