Wizard in a Witchy World Read online

  "How do you keep up with it?" I asked, closing my eyes as I focused on a rosemary plant that had been severely cut back. I pushed my magic into the plant and felt a wellspring of energy flow cleanly through my feet and out of my hands. I was surprised at how easily the magic flowed and how quickly the delicious herb leafed out, growing into a robust plant like its neighbors.

  "Beautiful," Willow said, placing her hand on top of my own and gently grasping it. "May I join with you?"

  It wasn't as cougarish of a proposition as it sounded. It was a familiar terminology that Judy's sisters used when making an impromptu circle. Unfortunately, I'd nearly killed a witch friend when she'd tried to bring me into a circle in North Carolina. It wasn't something I was willing to repeat.

  "It doesn't work," I said, trying to keep things light. I didn't want to sound too emphatic.

  "I don't see how that's possible. It would take me a few days to encourage that little plant to restore so much, yet you did it in moments. How much more so if we joined."

  "No." I drew my hand back. The very idea terrified me. I could hardly face my family in North Carolina for all the pain I'd caused. I wasn't about to repeat that here.

  "Felix. You're being rude," Gabriella said.

  "I need to leave," I said. I transferred Clarita over to Gabriella and was grateful that neither made a fuss.

  "It's nothing," Willow said. I sensed her trying to sooth me, but my fear response pushed me and I couldn't accept it. I ran through the garden and grabbed my shoes. There was a side exit, which I took, sprinting for my truck. Winded, I threw the boots into the truck, started it up and drove away, my bare feet freezing on the pedals.

  ALL ABOUT TRUST

  I awoke suddenly at four o’clock the next morning, having only fallen asleep two hours previous. After running out on dinner, I'd grabbed a burger and then set about cleaning the apartment, a task I reserved for times when my mind was too occupied for anything else.

  Violent banging on my front door spurred me to action and I stumbled from bed, grateful that I'd cleaned up and didn't have to pick my way around a mess. With a wave of my hand, I unlocked the door and opened it to Amak, who swung a clenched fist clumsily, recognizing too late I'd opened up. I dodged her awkward swing as she twisted, falling into me. The smell of booze followed her across the threshold like a tsunami.

  "Whoa, hold on there, killer," I said, catching her.

  "Booty call!" she announced, wrapping her arms around me awkwardly as we fell into the apartment.

  "Shhh, you'll wake my landlady," I said, swinging the door closed with my foot. I was grateful that Mrs. Willoughby took her hearing aids out at night and nothing short of a gas explosion would wake her. Amak pulled off her sequined top, tossed it to the side and pushed me onto the couch, following my progress and landing roughly on me.

  As beautiful as I found Amak, we hadn't had the same night. She'd been drinking and was already in overdrive, ready to go. My baser instincts wanted to fulfil her expectations, but I was having a hard time catching up.

  "Hold on, Amak," I said, between her rough kisses. The smell of alcohol wasn’t doing much to encourage me.

  "Playing hard to get?" Amak asked as her hands slid under my belt, searching.

  "You're way ahead of me here," I said. "I just woke up." The irony of having this conversation with a woman, albeit a troll woman, was not lost on me.

  "I just want to have fun. You can still pine after that witch if you want. I don't care," she said.

  That got my attention. I pushed her back and scooted to the corner of the couch, disentangling.

  "That's a horrible thing to say, Amak," I said. "I really like you, and I'd like to think…"

  "What? You'd like to think we could be together? Don't make this more than it is, Slade. We have fun together. No strings. I thought you got that," she said.

  "Is that how you see us?" I asked.

  "Oh, don't get huffy. Humans have been taking advantage of trolls for millennia. I'm just being a realist," she said.

  "I'd like to know you, Amak. I'm not plaything material," I said.

  "You want to cuddle and talk it out?" she asked, waggling her eyebrows.

  "You're drunk and you aren’t listening."

  "Gods, but you can be a buzz kill. Do you have any idea how much I have to drink to even get a buzz?" she asked.

  I took my shirt off and handed it to her. "Put this on. I can't have a conversation with you if you're hanging out like that," I said.

  She smiled at me mischievously and ran her fingers around her breasts suggestively. To my dismay, I was unable to take my eyes off her as she did. She ran her fingers down her firm stomach and when they reached the band of her leather skirt, I broke eye contact and stood, turning away.

  "You smell like you're ready. Why are you holding back?" Amak had silently stood and her breath blew hot on my neck.

  "I'm not that guy, Amak."

  "You have feelings for that witch and you're still messing around. What would you have me think?" She wrapped her arms around my waist, her breasts pressing into my back. Fortunately, she kept her hands north of the danger zone.

  "It's not as clear to me as it is to you, Amak. I think we could have something, it's just so confusing," I said. "What I know is that I don't want to lose you as a friend. If I just turn into your booty call, I won't be able to handle it."

  She grabbed my shoulders and gently turned me around. She was still naked. Her glamour had faded so that I saw her as she really was – a gorgeous troll warrior. Her aura was no longer projecting lust as much as confusion and even hope.

  "You're saying you just want to be friends?" she asked.

  I shook my head, looking at the ground. "When you say it that way, it sounds terrible."

  She gave her head a shake, confusion written across her face. "This is new territory for me."

  I inspected her face to help me understand what she was saying, her eyes glistening in the dark of the apartment. I didn't want to hurt her, but this was a critical point in our relationship and I had to be honest.

  "I don't know where our relationship is going, Amak. What I do know is that you've become important to me. I can't lose you."

  "And, you'd give up sex for that?"

  "Absolutely."

  "You are an unusual man, Felix Slade. I've only known those who wanted a physical relationship and then tire of me and move on. Yet you, who see me as I am and desire to join with me physically, abstain from this to keep me as your friend."

  "It'll sound less stupid to me when you have a shirt on and I've taken a cold shower," I said.

  She stepped forward and slid her arms around my back, tipping her head over to rest her cheek on my own.

  "You know. Trolls don't have the same hang-ups about sex and relationships. We could just be – I believe you call it – friends with benefits." She gently shook her chest, once again catching my eye.

  I averted my gaze and tossed her my shirt again. "No. Stop. You're so naughty."

  "How does this work?" she asked, pulling the shirt over her head. "Should I leave?"

  "You shouldn't drive in your condition. Stay here tonight."

  "And, what happens when your girlfriend shows up in the morning?"

  "One of the benefits of being friends. We can have all the sleepovers we want. Are you hungry? I still have these frozen cookies from Mrs. Willoughby," I said.

  "No. Sleep is probably a good idea."

  I pulled a blanket and pillow from the closet and tossed them on the couch. "You take my bed, you're too long for the couch."

  "Nah. This'll work just fine." Amak fell onto the couch, dangling her legs off the end and pulling the blanket over her shoulders.

  "Seriously, it's not a problem," I said.

  "Go to bed, Slade," she said, rolling over. I smiled. The woman could change gears faster than a Nascar driver.

  "'Night." I turned off the hall light on my way back to bed.

  ***

&nbs
p; Buzzing woke me from a deep sleep and I tried to turn over, but a long arm lay across my chest, inhibiting movement. At some point in the night, Amak had joined me in the bed. The presence of my shirt on her sleeping form reassured me that we hadn't done anything more than sleep. Gently, I moved her arm so I could retrieve my phone. It was just after eight and I'd missed a call from Gabriella. When I entered the security code, I discovered I'd also missed more than a few texts as well. I dialed her back and slid out of bed.

  "Did you remember your appointment with Phibbly?" She didn't bother greeting me.

  "Who?" I asked. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place it.

  "At the bank. You're meeting him at nine," she said.

  "Crap, I totally forgot," I said.

  "Are you okay? You ran out of Chatty Katty's pretty fast last night. Willow and the sisters were concerned," she said.

  "I can't talk about it."

  There was a long pause before she continued. "That bad?"

  "Just painful," I said. "I'll apologize to the sisters. It wasn't Willow's fault."

  "Everyone has baggage, Felix. Willow was concerned for you more than anything else. She's very perceptive. You don't need to apologize."

  "I feel like a heel. I knew she was reaching out to me and I rejected her."

  "Then talk to her. She won't pry, but don't let it fester."

  "When did you get so wise?"

  "It's easier when I'm not involved. And you better get rolling," she said.

  "Thanks for the call, Gabriella. I'll talk to you later," I said, hanging up.

  I had only forty-five minutes to get cleaned up and to the bank for my meeting with David Phibbly, trust administrator. I jumped in the shower and was toweling off when Amak knocked on the bathroom door.

  "Just a minute." I wrapped the towel around my waist and opened the door. "It's all yours." I gestured grandly to the tiny bathroom.

  "You're up early. Do you have plans for the morning?"

  "Banking," I said, squeezing past her into the hallway.

  Amak straightened as I spoke and turned to me. "Slade, I hate to ask, but does this have anything to do with 230 Happy Hollow?"

  "That's quite a leap from banking to that old run-down mansion."

  "Don't mess with me. Does it?"

  "Who wants to know?"

  "Liise Straightrod compelled me to ask," she said. "I can't leave without getting an answer I believe."

  "Do the witches really have that much control over you?"

  "She does, yes. Please tell me," she said, her eyes begging me not to.

  "I'm not much of a secret keeper, Amak. I've learned that my name is on a trust and it has something to do with that old mansion. I'm going to talk with them about it."

  "I can't let you go," she said.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I'm to detain you and call Liise," she said. "I'm to use whatever force or tricks work."

  "Wait, what? Has Liise compelled you to sleep with me to get information? I thought it was Camille who was asking for information."

  "Camille asked for information, but Liise compelled me to use whatever means were necessary."

  "Camille knew this?"

  "No. Camille would never go that far."

  "But, she'd still use her power to command you," I said hotly.

  "Witches and trolls have been enemies for centuries. My service to the witches is voluntary as part of a truce. Their control of us is a condition of that truce," she said.

  "That's too much. It's slavery," I said.

  "My mother wouldn't like what's being done, but I don't know if she'd break the truce just because one witch is abusing her power," she said. I filed that little bit of information away. I needed to meet her mother.

  "So what do we need to do?"

  "I can't let you go this morning," she said.

  "Fine. I won't go," I said. "I don't really want to anyway. How about some breakfast?"

  She smiled, stress draining out of her face. "Do you have anything?"

  "Steak and eggs," I said. "Take a shower, I'll have it up by the time you're out."

  "Promise me you won't leave before I get out," she said.

  "I promise. On our friendship, I'll be waiting for you."

  She turned and started removing her clothing. I pulled the door closed behind me, dressed quickly and got to work in the kitchen. If I were going to make my meeting, I'd need to hustle.

  Fifteen minutes later, Amak walked into the kitchen, wearing another pair of my jeans and a clean t-shirt. I mentally noted that I needed to purchase more clothing if I was going to be sharing at this level in the future.

  "As promised," I said, sliding plates of scrambled eggs and steak onto the table.

  "This smells delicious," she said. "I can't believe you're being such a good sport."

  "Coffee?" I asked.

  "Water would be good," she said, digging in.

  I got up from the table and pulled a cardboard bottle of salt from a shelf and poured it on the ground, completing a spell circle behind Amak.

  "What are you…?"

  "Sphaera." A translucent bubble popped into existence, separating us.

  "…up to?" She completed her sentence, her voice taking on the tinny characteristics caused by communicating through the impervious spell wall.

  "Sorry for the deception, but I can't let Liise Straightrod decide what I can and cannot do. I promise I'll be back as soon as I can. Feel free to eat my eggs," I said.

  "Do not leave, Slade. The consequences will be grave. Straightrod is up to something."

  "What's it got to do with me?"

  "I don't know. I just know she wants you and Gabriella dead."

  "Would you kill me if she required it?"

  "No. There are limits," she said.

  "Do you believe you can get out of my spell circle?"

  "No."

  "Good. I'll see you in an hour or so," I said. "Enjoy the eggs."

  I waved to her over my back as I walked out the front door, locking it behind me.

  I was five minutes late for my appointment.

  "Can I help you?" An older woman, seated at a reception desk asked as I entered through the second set of double doors.

  "I've an appointment with David Phibbly," I said.

  "I'll let him know you're here." She smiled a practiced smile and lifted the receiver on her phone, cradling it on her shoulder and gesturing at a row of empty seats.

  Several minutes later, I heard the ding of an elevator. A weaselly looking man with salt and pepper hair and a narrow build walked purposefully in my direction. As he arrived, he adjusted his round wire-framed glasses, making eye contact with me. I stood and pushed down a strong feeling of being underdressed and out of place.

  "Mr. Slade?" The man managed to sound both raspy and nasal as he stood in front of me.

  "Yes." I offered my hand. The disgust at my gesture rolled off the man in waves as he forced a smile. It occurred to me that sensitivity to people's feelings wasn't always an advantage.

  "David Phibbly. If you'll follow me, we've gathered in my office." He shook my proffered hand with a single pump and let go, turning back to the elevator doors from which he'd exited.

  It was an uncomfortable ride up. Phibbly stared forward, not making eye contact as we rode quietly in the elevator. When it stopped, he took a practiced step back, bowed slightly at the waist and gestured with an open palm toward the door. "After you, Mr. Slade."

  I walked into an open, low-cubicle environment where ten middle-aged women busily worked in front of computer terminals. Phibbly caught up and guided me past offices along the outer wall. As I looked into each of the offices, I noticed they were predominately occupied by older men in suits. It felt like I'd been transported back to a nineteen fifties black-and-white movie. As we entered Phibbly's office, I was surprised to see two women in conservative business suits already seated at a round table.

  "Aimee Bestmun." A blonde-haired woman o
ffered her hand.

  "Kim Munstel." The other offered as they both stood.

  "Felix Slade." I shook their hands and gathered a quick read. Bestmun was absolutely roiling with curiosity, where Munstel was calm with an undercurrent of concern.

  "On behalf of Leotown Bank and Trust, we'd like to welcome you, Mr. Slade," Phibbly said as we sat. "How may we help you today?"

  I pulled the paper from my pocket and slid it onto the table. "I was hoping you would clear up a mystery for me relating to the property at 230 Happy Hollow Boulevard."

  Phibbly picked up the paper, looked at it briefly and then handed it to Bestmun. "Do you have an interest in making a claim on the property?"

  I felt three sets of eyes looking at me intently, hanging on my answer.

  "I don't know. I'm not familiar with it, but a friend suggested I should talk to you," I said, looking to Kim for support.

  "There's a test." Bestmun blurted, unable to contain herself.

  "Aimee. That's not the procedure," Phibbly corrected.

  "What kind of test?" I asked still looking at Kim.

  "There are three tests," Kim answered. Again, I felt her concern surface. She made a sudden decision.

  "Kim!" Phibbly objected.

  "No, David. There is a higher responsibility than this charter. Mr. Slade needs to know what he's getting into."

  "There is no higher responsibility than the law," Phibbly stated emphatically.

  "The first step is simple, Mr. Slade," Kim said. "We need to verify your identity. We need a driver's license or passport and a social security card or birth certificate."

  Gabriella had warned me that they might ask to verify my identity and I'd brought my birth certificate and driver's license. I slid them across the table. Aimee stood wordlessly, scooped them up and walked from the room.

  "The second is a blood test to be administered by Mr. Phibbly. It is a non-standard test we, quite frankly, don't understand. But, as David has correctly pointed out, the agreement of the trust charter must be fulfilled and this is clearly spelled out."

  "Only if he is making a claim," Phibbly corrected.

  My curiosity was piqued and while I felt the warning from Kim, I wanted to know what was at the end of this rabbit hole. "What do you need to hear from me?" I turned to Phibbly.