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Three's A Charm

Page 10

by Robyn Peterman


  “Does the Goddess have webbed toes?” Fat Bastard asked.

  “Does she wear mom jeans?” Boba Fett added.

  “Does she get jiggy with Julio Iglesias?” Jango Fett rounded out the absurd questions.

  Fabio simply stared at them—speechless.

  “Listen you shitbrains,” I snapped, marching over to them, but secretly dying to know if any of that stuff about the Goddess was true. “I’m about to cram a hat of ass on each of your idiot heads. You either have a lead on Baba Yaga’s whereabouts or not.”

  “Weeze can find her,” Fat Bastard assured me, laughing. “But I wanna see dis hat of ass youse is talkin’ about. Jango would look sharp in dat.”

  Jango, not realizing he’d just been insulted and set up by his buddy, nodded in agreement.

  “You find Baba Yaga and bring her back and you all can have hats of ass. I promise.”

  “Weeze will hold you to dat, Dollface,” Boba said.

  And with that, the four of them disappeared in a blast of bright orange magic.

  “So what’s the plan?” Sassy asked.

  We were all silent as we tried to figure it out. As usual, my brilliant mate was the very sexy brains of the operation.

  “We will all stay at our place. We can take turns guarding the babies. We have plenty of room,” Mac said.

  “Should we alert the town?” Jeeves inquired.

  “No, not yet,” Mac said with a curt shake of his head. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt. We need witch magic to defeat witch magic. With Zelda, Sassy, Marge and Bermangoggleshitz in the house, Endora will receive an ugly surprise if she tries to pay a visit.”

  “I like it,” Roy said.

  “Me too,” Marge said, realizing Roy’s arm was on the back of her chair.

  Ignoring it, she stood and hid her blush by busying herself with the empty cookie basket.

  “You little dudes ready to go home and have a slumber party?” I asked my babies as I picked up Henry and Mac scooped up Audrey.

  “Buzzsit!” they shouted and then broke into a fit of giggles.

  “I’m gonna take that as a yes,” Mac said with a grin.

  “Should we fly home on the brooms?” Sassy asked.

  “NO,” everyone yelled in unison.

  “Just a suggestion,” she muttered as Jeeves took her hand and kissed it sweetly.

  “It was a good suggestion, my love. But I think the cars will be faster and we’ll all arrive in one piece,” he said with a smile.

  “And our nuts won’t be in our esophagus,” Bermangoggleshitz added under his breath.

  “All right, let’s go,” I said, biting back my smile. I assumed that Roy’s broom landing must have been as shitty as my own.

  We had a plan. We had the magic. And more than likely none of us would get any sleep.

  Of course my magic was still wonky to the extreme, but I’d use it without a second thought if I had to. I just hoped we’d all survive it…

  “Dude,” Sassy whispered as we walked out of the diner. “Do you think the Goddess really wears mom jeans?”

  “I don’t know, but if she does, we have something really good on her,” I whispered back, looking up at the sky to make sure there wasn’t a bolt of lightning headed toward our asses.

  Thankfully, we were in the clear. The unsavory adventure had begun. I didn’t want to start it with an extra hole in my ass.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Okay my little loves, it’s time to go to sleep,” I said, tucking my precious babies into their cribs.

  Their room was everything I’d wanted as a child and didn’t have. The walls were a bright, happy yellow and the squishy carpet was a grassy green. The ceiling was sky blue with puffy white clouds floating through it and a smiling sun peeked out from the far corner.

  At night when the lights were out, tiny, bright glow-in-the-dark stars twinkled above their cribs. Turned out my buddy Simon the skunk had many hidden talents and was a wonderful artist along with being a kickass singer. He’d painted a mural of all the Shifter animals of Assjacket on the walls and it made the room even more magical.

  Board books and stuffed animals finished off the living fairy tale and all the furniture was a beautiful natural wood. But the very best things in the room were my babies. Mac’s and my wonderful, perfect, little foul-mouthed babies.

  “Goddess, they smell so good,” Mac said as he kissed Henry and gave him his favorite stuffed dinosaur.

  Audrey slept with a one-eyed bear that had been Mac’s as a child. She dragged the sad looking stuffed animal everywhere with her. I knew it tickled Mac to no end that his daughter had taken possession of something he’d adored as a little boy.

  “Mamma,” Audrey whispered as I stroked her soft cheek with my fingers.

  I froze. My eyes filled with tears. It wasn’t her first word… bullshit was and Crapass was her second. But mamma was her third. And the third time is a charm.

  “Did you hear that?” I whispered through my tears.

  “I did,” Mac said, kissing the top of my head and pulling me close.

  “Mamma,” Henry grunted, not be outdone by his sister. “Dadda. Crapass. Buwshit.”

  Mac’s threw his head back and laughed. “I think you might rate a bit higher than me.”

  “Dada, dada, dada, dada,” Audrey sang and clapped her hands.

  “I love them so much it might be unhealthy,” I said, giggling.

  “Then I’m in the same boat, my beautiful witch,” he said, patting the children’s kittens, Lucky and Charm, on their furry little heads.

  They took their jobs as Henry and Audrey’s familiars very seriously and followed them everywhere. The kittens were just babies themselves, but they knew who they were there to protect.

  “I don’t know what I did to deserve them—or you,” I whispered, watching Henry try to put his feet in his mouth and Audrey get comfortable on her tummy with her cute little bottom high in the air.

  “I love you, Zelda,” Mac said, lifting my chin so our eyes met. “I love you and I choose you. I will choose you over and over and over again. I choose you without hesitation, without uncertainty and in a heartbeat. I will always love you and choose you.”

  “My world,” I said as I brushed my fingertips over his smiling mouth. “You and the babies are my world.”

  His smile undid me and I wanted to jump his bones and show him I was a really good choice, but that would have to wait. Right now I would simply bask in the wonderful feeling of being loved and loving him back.

  “I’m on first shift with Sassy and Jeeves,” Mac said. “You go get some sleep and tell them to come in here.”

  “Will do,” I said, kissing my sleepy babies once more and laying a hot one on Mac. “Don’t know how much sleep I’ll get, but I’ll try.”

  “Go,” he whispered and copped a feel of my ass as I left the room.

  Goddess, he was every kind of perfect—for me. I would choose him over and over until the end of time.

  Eavesdropping wasn’t really my thing, but Marge and Roy weren’t exactly being quiet.

  I’d tried to sleep, but nightmare inducing thoughts of Endora and chia pets kept crowding my brain. Not to mention I was still worried about Roger and his five badoinkadoinks. He hadn’t been at the diner this evening, but thankfully I’d heard from several Shifters he was taking his new enhancement in stride. Simon had even shared that he’d heard Roger was seriously thinking of contacting the Guinness Book of World Records.

  I was going to have to put a stop to that heinous idea. Besides, once I got a handle on my dark magic he was going to be right back to one teeny weenie.

  So instead of sleeping like I was supposed to, I found myself hiding behind an ancient grandfather clock, spying on my guests in my own home. Not real good form, but I wasn’t known for good form.

  “I thought incessantly about your boobs even when I wanted to kill you,” Bermangoggleshitz admitted to a wildly annoyed Marge.

  Goddess on a bend
er, if this was how he planned to win Marge back he needed my help in a big bad way.

  “Mmmkay,” Marge said with an eye roll and a wince. “Try again.”

  “Umm… Even though I would have smote you dead in a heartbeat and laughed while you perished, the thought of your ass always gave me a woody.”

  It took everything I had not to laugh or scream. I was surprised Marge hadn’t permanently removed his tongue yet. He was batting a massive negative zero in the romance department.

  “Wait,” Bermangoggleshitz said, holding his hand up. “I can do better than that.”

  Goddess, I certainly hoped so…

  Marge crossed her arms over her chest and waited. Bermangoggleshitz’s brow wrinkled in thought and he appeared nervous… or ready to pass out… or possibly puke. Heaving in a big gulp of air, he tried again. Honestly, he probably should have stopped while he still had a chance to make it to the morning alive.

  “Although I would have happily torn you to pieces with my bare hands, I would have bent you over the couch and done you first. Better?”

  “While that’s alarmingly flattering—but mostly repulsive and disgusting—I’m not the one who up and left without a word,” she spat, staring daggers at him.

  “I beg your pardon, Miss I Write the Meanest Breakup Note Ever,” he snapped right back.

  “I have no idea what kind of crap you’re spouting, but you are clearly trying to rewrite history.”

  “I think not,” Roy growled. “I still have it.”

  “Have what?” Marge snarled. “A woody?”

  “I always have a woody when you’re near me,” he shouted, pointing to the crotch of his tented pants. “Look at me. This monster is really hard to hide in public. My balls are blue for your information and your ass is a work of fucking art.”

  “Your balls can fall off for all I care and my ass is none of your business,” she hissed. “You used me once, shame on you. Twice? Shame on me.”

  “I used you?” Roy sputtered, truly puzzled and pissed off. “Now who’s rewriting history?”

  “You are!” they yelled in unison pointing and zapping each other with magic that bounced around the room, broke a lamp and split the coffee table in half.

  Dang it. I loved that coffee table. Enough was enough. They were incredibly bad house guests. I might be a bad host for listening in on their puke inducing conversation, but I hadn’t destroyed any property.

  “Enough. You zap one more piece of my furniture and I will go medieval on your asses. Or I might have to practice my dark genitalia enhancing voodoo-doodoo on both of you. You feel me, Romeo and Juliet?” I snapped, stepping out from behind the massive clock.

  “Did you hear his lines?” Marge demanded.

  “Unfortunately, yes,” I admitted with an eye roll aimed at Bermangoggleshitz. “Roy, they sucked. However, Marge shitty lines do not merit zapping the shit out of my furniture.”

  Marge nodded her head and gave me a weak smile. With a wave of her had, she repaired what they had damaged.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “Roy and I should probably be separated.”

  “We’ve been separated for centuries,” he griped. “I think it’s time to either talk or just off each other and be done with it.”

  Eyeing both of them, I shrugged. “Roy, your evil is showing and your horns are glowing. It’s a really bad look, so I’d suggest you tamp that shit back. There will be no offing at my house. It’s rude and messy and I’ll kick your ass to hell if you try it—magic or no magic. And you don’t want to test me. Ask Roger the rabbit if you don’t believe me. However, if you’re gonna talk, there are going to be some ground rules. And I’m going to referee.”

  “Sounds fair,” Roy said, glancing over at Marge to see if she was on the same page.

  “Fine,” Marge said, glaring at Roy.

  “Okay,” I said, pulling the plan out of my ass as I spoke. If I couldn’t use magic to heal Roy and Marge, I would try logic—or a loose definition of the term. “If you destroy any more property, you have to eat it.”

  Both of them gave me odd looks. Whatever. I knew that was a weird one, but I was serious about my house staying intact. I’d already flooded it. I was so not in the mood for them to burn it down.

  “Next, you’re each going to say five or two… or at least one nice thing to each other and then you will go to bed. The three of us are on the next shift and I would prefer both of you to be awake and alive.”

  “I see your point.” Roy nodded his agreement. “Should I start?”

  “Yes,” I said, completely confident that he would fuck it up.

  He paced the room and wrung his hands. It was a little heartbreaking to see how hard he was trying. Even Marge looked a little sorry for him… a little.

  “Okay. Every time I’ve dreamt of murdering you in your sleep…”

  “I’m gonna stop you right there,” I said, cutting Roy off quickly. “I really think you should leave out all references to dismemberment. It’s not sexy and it makes you sound like a total jackhole.”

  “Seriously?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

  “Very,” I replied.

  Roy swallowed and closed his eyes in thought for a brief moment. Inhaling through his nose and slowly blowing it out through his lips, he gathered his courage and let her rip. “I fell in love with you because of your laugh and the fact that you could drink a sailor under the table. However, I’d like to add that your boobs and ass also helped tremendously. And even though I’ve fanaticized about holding your head under water until you were a goner, I don’t think I want to do that anymore.”

  He looked at me to gauge if that passed. I thought about it for a long moment and then nodded. At least he had said he didn’t want to kill her anymore. Or I think he did. “Marge, your turn.”

  “Although the thought of shoving you off a cliff and watching as your body bounced from jagged rock to jagged rock until a large one impaled you and you bled out has been a fanciful notion of mine for a few centuries, I was impressed that the size of your hands didn’t lie about the size of your package. And when you recited poetry to me it made my heart skip a beat. Oh, and the size of your package.”

  “You said the package part twice,” I told her, getting a bit squeamish at the direction of the conversation. I wasn’t even going to touch the jagged rock shit.

  “Yes, well it bears being repeated. Trust me,” she said with a giggle.

  Bermangoggleshitz was bent over in pain. I assumed his blue balls were now purple.

  “Roy,” I said, praying to the Goddess he was out of compliments. “Do you have anything to add? And it’s totally okay if you don’t.”

  Placing his hand on his heart and staring straight at Marge, Roy spoke from his heart… or possibly from his groin. “Your cookies are ambrosia and the dimple in your perfect left ass cheek makes me drool. I would very much like to bite it. Not a bite that would kill—just to leave a nice scar next to the dimple. Also the fond memories of playing horny fake priest and horny fake nun has gotten me through some of my darkest hours.”

  “Really?” Marge asked, delighted.

  “Yes.”

  “I have one,” Marge said, unfortunately warming up the exercise. “While most of the time I dreamt about peeling the skin from your body and enjoying your screams, my favorite recollection of us is when you oiled yourself up and we played naked Twister and then I rode you like a…”

  “Whoa! Okay, stop,” I choked out holding up my hands in surrender. “This went wildly awry and I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be sick.”

  “I wasn’t finished,” Marge said with a frown.

  “She was just getting to the good part,” Bermangoggleshitz said.

  “My job here is done,” I said firmly. “You have both said what you would define as nice things to each other with only several mentions of murder. I’d say we’ve all made progress—or at least you have. I just feel grossed out and ill.”

  “Thank you,” Marge said quietly
. “You have many gifts, Zelda.”

  I was a little floored by her statement and actually wanted her to go on. It felt pretty good to be complimented by a witch as strong and powerful as Cookie Witch, but I was terrified if they kept talking it would degenerate into more naked stories that I’d need hundreds of years of therapy to remove.

  “Yes,” Roy added. “For being a massive pain in my ass, you are quite adept at healing—even without magic.”

  Again I was floored. Again I stayed silent.

  Marge and Roy left the great room without another word. I’d given each of them their own rooms to sleep in, but I had a really bad feeling they would just make use of one.

  I just hoped they both lived through the night.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Houston,” Sassy gasped out, looking paler than I’d ever seen her. “We have a problem.”

  My laugh at her Apollo 13 reference completely confused her and I realized she hadn’t seen the movie. Sassy wasn’t making a clever joke and we clearly had a problem. Thankfully I knew the problem had nothing to do with my babies’ safety. They were in the kitchen with Mac and me, chowing down on chocolate chip pancakes. Henry was wearing more syrup than he’d ingested and Audrey had a big piece of pancake stuck to her chubby cheek. It was all kinds of awesome and adorable.

  I’d taken the second guard shift with Roy and Marge. It had been wonderfully uneventful and my two cohorts had been unusually quiet and definitely still alive. I’d even gotten a few hours sleep and was ready to take on the new day—problems and all.

  “What’s the problem?” I asked.

  “I don’t know how to explain it,” Sassy said looking pale and greenish now.

  “Dude,” I snapped, getting a little nervous. “Just use English.”

  “I think Profanican would be more appropriate,” she whispered, nodding at Henry and Audrey.

  “I’m on it,” Mac said, clearly not wanting to hear Sassy’s personal profane problems. He scooped up our sticky children from their highchairs and headed out of the kitchen. “I’m gonna give these pancake monsters a bath and then we can make plans for the day. Sound good?”

 

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