Beauty and the Jinx: Magic and Mayhem Universe (Jinxed by Love)

by Cherie Marks

This was crazy. Why wasn’t he shifting back into his human form? In his current state, she couldn’t understand anything he was trying to communicate. She needed him to help her through one of the worst tournaments she’d ever played, and she couldn’t figure out for the life of her why he wouldn’t just shift back and...help...her.

  “You can’t shift back, can you?”

  The fur floated around his face as he shook his snout back and forth in a negative motion.

  “Oh, no, Flint! This is horrible. Are you okay?”

  With a heavy guff of air, he sat back on his haunches and seemed to be trying to tell her something with his whines and wails, but she still couldn’t make sense of anything he was trying to say.

  “What are we going to do?”

  His head dropped and hung dejectedly. The situation just kept getting worse.

  Suddenly, the door from the bar/café flung open and a petite brunette poked her head out and said, “There you are, Miss Nyx. It’s almost time for you to tee off. Are you ready?”

  Ivy recognized her as one of the assistants to Tripp Sanders, the organizer of the tournament. There was clearly no putting off the inevitable. They would send out an army of assistants to drag her to the tee box. There was nowhere to hide.

  Was she ready? Not in the least. But what choice did she have?

  With a nod, she said, “Give us a minute. We’ll be right there.”

  The assistant looked reluctant but relented, backing up and shutting the door to give them some privacy.

  “I swear, Flint, could this tournament get any worse? I don’t know how I’m going to play without you. Who will caddy for me? You’re the only one who I know and who knows me.”

  Using his snout, he nudged her bag and motioned over his shoulder. She knew he was telling her he would still caddy for her, but how ridiculous would that be?

  Of course, again, what choice did she have? There were no other options.

  Ivy ran a hand over the back of her neck as she thought out the logistics. Her brain was firing off scenarios for how to let a bear caddy for her. No matter how she looked at it, the whole situation was way beyond normal. This was becoming downright farcical. “There’s no way around it. I still need you. I guess we’ll just have to strap my golf bag to your back. It will be one of the craziest things this course has ever seen, but we’ll make it work.”

  IT WASN’T GOING TO work. They were five holes into the round, and Ivy was ready to pull her hair out. Every time she needed advice on which club to hit, all Flint could offer was grunts and growls. She was losing her mind.

  She was only down by three strokes, which wasn’t bad considering how many of her hits seemed to find trouble on every hole. Now, she was about 130 yards out from the pin, and she was between clubs. It was an awkward distance for her, and she wasn’t sure whether she should shorten her swing with one club or swing hard with the other one. She needed his advice, and she needed it now.

  “Am I hitting the seven or the eight iron, Flint? Tell me something.”

  But she couldn’t make sense of his vocalizations, and her frustration got the better of her. She released a scream that came out more like a groan and let loose.

  “This is ridiculous! You should be able to shift back to your human form for two seconds and tell me which club you think I should hit. What is going on? This doesn’t happen. I don’t normally have this much bad luck. Something changed. It changed when...” She sucked in a sudden breath as the realization hit her. “Ever since I went looking for my golf ball in Zayn Gray’s garden, nothing has gone right.”

  Flint cried out, but she waved at him to get him quiet. “That’s it! He hit me with a spell as I was leaving. What if it was laced with a jinx?” She had begun to pace back and forth now. But she stopped and met Flint’s beady-eyed gaze. “He jinxed me! It’s the only explanation.”

  A rage like she’d never experienced before came over her, and multiple scenarios for revenge rattled around in her mind. She could decimate his garden. He was worried about a single rose, but how would he feel if she destroyed every last plant inside those stone walls? Or, she could turn him into a toad. He could hop freely around his ruined garden, but he’d be cursed to eat bugs for the rest of his life. It wouldn’t be anything he didn’t deserve.

  Yet, she knew she was just angry. She’d never really do anything to hurt him, despite the fact she was powerful enough to do it. But she would confront him. Tonight. And she’d make him admit what an absolute asshole he was to do this to her.

  Until then though, she needed to figure out how she was going to play this shot, and she needed to figure it out soon, before the course official showed up to tell her she was slowing play again.

  She turned to Flint and ran her hands over his head a few times. “Surely there is some way we can communicate.” He pawed the ground at her feet, and she watched the motion with interest. Didn’t horses sometimes learn to count with their paws—or at least it seemed like they did.

  Of course!

  “Flint, I’ve got an idea.”

  It didn’t take long for him to catch on, and once he did, their communication picked up. Though her shots still weren’t perfect, she gained a stroke, cutting Prunella’s lead to two instead of three. She might not be playing her best, and her caddy might be a bear, but she was determined to make the best of a very bad situation.

  Never far from the forefront of her mind though was her coming confrontation with Zayn Gray. He’d made a terrible mistake in jinxing her, and she wouldn’t rest tonight until he’d removed every last piece of his magic hold over her. This all ended tonight.

  Chapter 9

  UNLESS IT WAS TO PLAY the worst round she knew how to play, Zayn couldn’t figure out what Ivy’s strategy was. She continued to choose the wrong club each time, and he knew she wouldn’t even be on the tour if that was her actual swing.

  And for some damn reason, her caddy was a bear—the same bear shifter from yesterday as far as he could tell. Who let a bear shifter tell them to line up a putt while shifted? It made no sense at all. He didn’t think he could watch the train wreck much longer before rushing in to put a stop to it. Instead though, he watched her covertly from the crowd, doing his best to interact as little as he possibly could.

  He hated crowds and people and smells and being touched and, especially...crowds. He wasn’t exactly sure why he was here. He’d left his house this morning before she’d even stirred. He listened to her breathing through the walls and then berated himself for using his magic for such a ridiculous reason. It was a risk he didn’t need to take. His magic was already simmering inside him, bubbling just below the surface, like a volcano thought to be dormant, building for a massive eruption.

  Such a risk.

  Franny had been in the kitchen waiting on him with food steaming on the table, a knowing look on her wrinkled face.

  “Don’t say a word. It’s not what you think.”

  But she hadn’t responded. Just wished him a good day and toddled off to do whatever it was she whiled away the hours doing. He never sat still long enough to truly know what she busied herself with, and not for the first time, he thought he might regularly take her for granted. It was probably something to do with his flawed character, and it might be something he needed to rectify.

  Not today, though.

  Today, duty called. He had to drive the course and make sure everything was as it should be. The cups on each green would have been moved to a different position for the second day of play, and he had planned them out strategically. He needed to ensure his crew had followed his orders.

  He also needed to confirm the complimentary items included for the officials were in the cart exactly as he’d instructed. And he had to check a million other little things that he delegated and expected to be completed exactly as he required.

  Accountability. It was the magic without any actual magic at all. If people knew you were going to check up on them, they had a tendency to do things the right way.
Sure enough, with the exception of a few minor details that he corrected quickly and easily, everything was just as it should be.

  Normally, after all was checked and found to be in order, he spent the tournament time on his deck, watching from a distance, his radio within easy reach in case anyone needed him. However, today, he surprised himself. When he should have turned right to get into his cart and make himself sparse before the players, coaches, officials, and crowds even began to trickle in, he donned a cap with the golf course logo on it and waited in the bar for Ivy’s tee time.

  When the time came, he watched as Lucy or, maybe Lily, he couldn’t quite remember the organizer’s assistant’s name, rush frantically through the bar and open the back door where Ivy stood, her face tightened into anxious lines. He kept his face dipped, trying to keep it covered by his hat. Try as he might, he couldn’t quite understand the exchange, but he got the sense that something was wrong. He heard several guttural growls that sounded like a rather large animal was outside the doors too, but he couldn’t imagine what that was about.

  The L-named assistant rushed off, shaking her head and shouting into the radio that Miss Nyx was on her way. With a fleeting look over her shoulder, Zayn could tell the assistant was hoping Ivy was on her way, but that she wasn’t quite as confident as she sounded.

  But within minutes, he glanced through the doors and saw Ivy was no longer standing there. He finished the sweet tea he’d been nursing and made his way toward the first hole. Whether he’d see her there or not, he wasn’t sure, but he had a strong desire to see how this all played out.

  She was warming up with a few wide swings in an open area. Once he got a little closer, he saw the source of the earlier animal sounds. A round ball of fur sat on its haunches to the right of the tee box. The bear was nearly seven feet tall, brown as winter grass, and looked thoroughly confused. At least, Zayn guessed it was a confused looked. He wasn’t quite sure, but as far as he could tell, the poor animal was completely baffled.

  It was clear by the feel of magic surrounding the bear that it was definitely the shifter and that something was wrong, but beyond that speculation, Zayn couldn’t imagine why the shifter was even here. He clearly wasn’t going to do anything more than distract Ivy. Yet, short of making a spectacle of himself, Zayn didn’t see anything to do except let her play and let a bear shifter be her caddy.

  What did it matter to him how she played anyway?

  He couldn’t quite figure that out, but it seemed to mean something to him, or he wouldn’t be here, following her. Would he?

  Yet, he couldn’t seem to walk away. She looked like she was totally out of her element, which he knew to be untrue. Using his phone, he’d done an internet search on her while he sat waiting in the bar. She was apparently an up and coming player who was a shoo-in for the rookie-of-the-year award on the tour, and sponsors were courting her, which meant she could make quite a nice living playing golf and doing a few commercials here and there. Of course, it didn’t hurt that she’d get some state-of-the art, free equipment out of the deal too.

  So, why was she throwing it all away today?

  He followed and watched her through the entire round of eighteen holes, and certain characteristics began to stand out. The sunlight turned her red hair to burnished gold, and she blew out a slow breath before each backswing. Her lips puckered as the air escaped, and he watched for it every time, waiting for her ruby mouth to form an O just before they clamped down to ready for the release. He knew why it fascinated him. It reminded him of sex, and he had to remind himself that he was celibate for a reason. Unfortunately, it seemed his body had forgotten this fact, as well as, the fact that carnal activity brought out the worst in his abilities. Thus, the reason for pushing that thought far, far away before he did something ridiculous, like test the softness of her lips with his own.

  He forced his thoughts onto other things she revealed about herself throughout the round.

  When she liked a particular shot, she watched it until it landed, then picked up the tee, searched for the bear caddy with a small smile playing on her lips, and finished with a wave to the crowd. And when she didn’t like a shot, she waited for it to land, then picked up her tee and kept her head down, not looking at anyone. Unfortunately, for her, she hadn’t made eye contact for most of the day. Fortunately for Zayn, he stopped hiding after a while, since chances were, with the way she was striking the ball, she’d never spot him anyway.

  After a while though, he wished he could just walk away. It was hard to watch her fall apart. It was clear she was all kinds of messed up mentally, and a big part of golf was the mental game. He couldn’t believe the weighty feeling that had taken up space in his chest. He was actually feeling bad for Ivy.

  What the...? How could he be feeling bad for the person who had made his life so much harder? He was even now walking a knife’s edge as he held back the churning magic rising inside of him. He was fairly certain the master warlock at his former training facility would have felt nothing but disappointment in this sudden case of sympathy. A chill ran down his spine at the thought of the punishment he would have received at the hands of the cruel, sour man who had taught Zayn how to destroy any and all who got in his way.

  And that’s exactly what he did.

  And also why he ran.

  By the time she tipped the final putt into the eighteenth hole, she looked ready to give up. Her shoulders slumped, and her body seemed heavy as she moved to pick up her golf ball and ease off the green.

  She really wasn’t too far behind, considering how clunky her play was today. Only about five strokes off the lead, if she could get it together for tomorrow, she could still win. Of course, she needed to lose the bear and gain a better coach.

  Not that he was volunteering. Was he?

  He’d be a fool to put himself in that situation, but he could help her. He knew the game of golf, had played it with aspiration at one time, and he knew how to instruct players, yet it would put him in close proximity to her, which he wanted to avoid. And, above all, he needed her working on removing her spell from around the one thing that could absorb his magic without damage. He needed that sooner rather than later.

  He’d do well to remember what she was. She was the enemy that was putting the entire tournament in danger by taking away his one way to control the uncontrollable magic inside of him.

  Actions had consequences. His did and hers did too.

  But the thought of letting her flounder another day didn’t sit well with him. Maybe he could at least tell her she was taking her swing too far outside. One quick piece of advice and then he’d keep his distance.

  He started to break away from the crowd but stopped when his radio came to life.

  “Zayn! We’ve got a situation here. I need you to meet me at the clubhouse as soon as you can.”

  It was Siggy, and the panic in his voice didn’t sound good. Zayn responded, “On my way.”

  With one last glance toward Ivy, he turned toward the large, looming Colonial that served as the course clubhouse. His advice would have to wait.

  A pulse of magic lit his hand up a deep, neon blue. No doubt a reaction to the adrenaline pumping through his body now. He squeezed his hand into a fist and willed the magic back down...barely.

  He needed that rose. He just hoped this all ended soon with something other than the massive explosion of magic that seemed more and more inevitable and the destruction of everyone and everything.

  Chapter 10

  IVY WAS FUMING. SHE was in the garden, currently, after the absolute worst round of her professional career replaying over and over in her mind. The rose taunted her from behind its magical barrier, and she was ready to get all of this over with.

  The jinx had obviously done its damage today. Though the whole field of players had struggled with the day’s round, Ivy had played dreadfully. Not since she was a junior golfer, first learning to play the game, had she hit such shanks. Thank goodness her short game had saved her str
okes. It was infuriating and embarrassing, but most of all, it was disheartening.

  This was supposed to be her tournament to shine. It should have been an easy win, but instead it was going to be a humiliating defeat. And to Prunella, of all people.

  Now, she was waiting—waiting to pounce on Zayn the minute she saw him.

  He hadn’t been here when she’d arrived, stomping and shouting through the house. In reaction to her demands, Franny had rushed out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.

  “What’s all the fuss, girl?”

  But Ivy had refused to talk about it until she could speak to Zayn, so Franny offered some delicious-smelling baked chicken, which Ivy grudgingly accepted. She might need to eat, but it didn’t mean she was giving in. The minute she saw him, he was going to make things right. The jinx would end. She was not going through another painful round like the past two. She just couldn’t do that again.

  “Did you ever consider approaching Zayn differently?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re smart enough to know people. They get defensive when they feel like they’re under attack. Then again, if they feel a connection with a person, they’re more likely to help them out. In other words, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.”

  “I don’t feel like being sweet right now. I can’t figure out how to fix the situation in the garden, and I can’t play the one game I’m usually good at without sucking more than a vacuum on overdrive. The last thing I want to do is make peace.”

  “Who said anything about peace? I was thinking more like stirring things up with a little flirtation.”

  All Ivy could do was roll her eyes at that. As if.

  “What a great sense of humor you have there, Franny. I just need to figure things out as quickly as I can.”

  Back in the garden, she glanced down at the book in her hands. Franny had handed it to her and suggested she try a few of the spells in it. So far, Ivy had tried a clearing spell from the removal section of the book, but other than a slight change in the rhythm, there was no visible difference. What else should she try?