“Yep,” I told him. “So?” I said to Sassy once we were alone.
“Sooo… I figured everyone was up and eating since I could hear all the laughter in the kitchen. Therefore, I felt it was safe to go borrow Marge’s hot pick Stella McCartney sweater.”
“You mean pilfer,” I corrected her.
“Yes. Pilfer,” she confirmed. “It looks much better on me anyway.”
Nodding, I waited.
“This is hard for me. Do you have a plastic bag? I might hurl while I relive this.”
Tossing her a garbage bag and a bottle of Windex just in case it might help, I backed away to the far side of the kitchen. If Sassy thought something was bad, it was probably horrific.
“They were in there,” she choked out on a whisper.
“Who was in where?” I demanded.
“My Rad and Marge—naked—covered in pink frosting and umm…”
“Sweet Goddess on a crotch rocket,” I gagged out. “Was there a Twister mat on the floor?”
“YES,” she shouted and grabbed the back of the chair for purchase. “How did you know that?”
“Call it a really unlucky educated guess,” I said, sliding down the wall and sitting on the floor. “Did they see you?”
“No,” Sassy said. “Well, not at first. At least not until I screamed and took a picture with Jeeves’s phone.”
“Dude, you did not take a picture of that.” I didn’t know whether laugh or scream—or both. “Why in the ever lovin’ hell would you want a record of Bermangoggleshitz and Cookie Witch getting jiggy?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted, dropping down on the chair and putting her head between her knees. “It’s just so gross to see your Rad naked and covered in pink frosting while going at it with the woman who you wish was your real mother. It’s scarring.”
“Hence my question,” I repeated. “Why take the picture?”
“In case I need to convince them to see my way on matters.”
“You mean blackmail,” I corrected her.
She looked pensive for a moment and then shrugged. “Semantics. That’s a Japanese word.”
My best friend had so many screws loose I was surprised her head didn’t jingle when she walked. She was brave and clearly insane. She should also probably make an appointment with Roger for some therapy.
“This is certainly gonna be awkward,” I said with a laugh. “How are you going to play it?”
Sassy jumped to her feet and paced the kitchen. “Here’s what I think…”
Oh shit. Sassy and thinking always resulted in something alarming.
“I’ll take the first baby guarding shift with Jeeves and Mac. You go and train with Marge and Rad. If I stay away from them for at least three hours and thirty-two minutes, I can pretend like nothing unusual and gag worthy happened this morning. Or I could train with you guys and unintentionally conjure up three hundred Twister mats and then hurl repeatedly. Of course I’d bring a puke bucket because I’m polite like that. I gotta say it’s just wrong on every level to see your parental unit and potential gal pal play hide the salami—especially covered in pink frosting. Which, I would like to add, used to be my favorite icing. Now I’m stuck seeing my dad’s joystick every time I think of pink frosting.”
“And, now thanks to you, I will picture that as well,” I grumbled.
“You’re welcome.”
“I was being sarcastic,” I snapped as I stood up and began clearing the syrup-covered dishes.
“But you said thanks,” Sassy pointed out with her brow raised and lips pursed.
“I was speaking Latin.”
“Damn it,” Sassy grumbled, snapping her fingers and producing a thick notebook out of thin air. “Another farking language I don’t know.”
She scribbled something down in her notebook, swearing the entire time.
“What is that?” I asked.
“It’s my To-do list.”
“It’s a huge notebook,” I pointed out.
“I have a lot of stuff to do. Are you going to be okay without me at training? I mean, will you be able to make eye contact knowing that Rad was licking pink frosting off of Cookie Witch’s unmentionables?”
Goddess, I was so tempted to zap her mouth shut for a week or ten, but I couldn’t risk it. Imagining what my farked up magic could do to a female was enough for me to swallow my need to mute Sassy. But it wasn’t easy.
“Again, thanks to you, no.”
“Was that Latin again?” she inquired with her pencil poised above her notebook.
Heaving out a huge sigh, I let my head fall back on my shoulders. “Yes, that was Latin. Now I’d suggest you disappear. I hear the Sugary Twister Duo heading toward the kitchen.”
In a hot second, Sassy had disappeared in a flash of pink sparkles taking her To-do list with her. Closing my eyes, I tried to block out our entire conversation. It was going to be next to impossible not to give them shit—let alone make eye contact.
Whatever. Getting a grip on my dark magic was far more important than keeping my breakfast down.
Chapter Fifteen
“Try again,” Bermangoggleshitz commanded, clearly getting frustrated with me.
He paced the backyard and ran his hands through his hair. And if I wasn’t mistaken—and I wasn’t—his fingers got tangled in pink frosting. Gross. However, Roy’s vexation with my lack of control didn’t hold a candle to my own. I was ready to kick my own ass or give up.
“I don’t get it,” I shouted as I made yet another huge crater in my backyard. I was up to six now. “I didn’t have this problem with my dark magic until a freakin’ week ago. I was fine and then… not.”
Marge stood off to the side of the yard. She’d put a good amount of distance between herself and me. She was a smart witch.
“Did anything out of the ordinary happen last week?” she questioned.
Marge was organized and precise. She was a baker for the love of the Goddess. She was a list person—one who probably did all the things on her lists. Not to mention, she was also the only maker of the green goop that helped keep the magical balance in our world.
“Dude,” I huffed, exasperated. “Define out of the ordinary. We’re witches. We live amongst people who turn into animals. My lumpy-assed cats talk. Not real sure I understand the question.”
Marge laughed and crossed the yard. Taking my hands in hers, she gently squeezed them. “Darling child, everything you just said is our ordinary. I meant anything strange—unsettling—something that felt off.”
“She has a point,” Bermangoggleshitz chimed in with a curt nod of his head. “I am no longer getting the impression that you hate your dark side. Hence, I don’t understand why you can’t control it.”
“Correct on the not hating it. No clue on why I can’t restrain it,” I said.
I didn’t hate it at all. In fact, I was grateful for it now that I knew there might be a threat to my children. However, I still didn’t have a handle on it and didn’t know why.
“Baba Yocraycray said if I can’t control my dark side it will control me,” I said, searching Marge and Roy’s faces for a clue as to how to be in charge of my dark mojo.
They said nothing—simply exchanged worried glances. It wasn’t exactly reassuring. Was I stuck like this? Was I going to be a permanent liability to my town, my people… my children?
“I refuse to accept that I can’t control this shit,” I announced, marching farther away from the house. “I’m gonna try a spell.”
“Do it,” Roy said. “Just aim it north—and low. You have a lot of nice trees.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Buttmunch,” I muttered.
“You’re welcome,’ he said with a chuckle. “You can do this… I think. Just concentrate. And go from the gut. And trust in your instincts. And zone in on the enchantment. And follow…”
“And shut your cakehole,” I said with an eye roll. “I’m gonna fall asleep if you keep going, dude.”
“Fine p
oint. Well made,” he replied as Marge gave him an elbow to the gut.
“Here goes nothing,” I muttered as I raised my hands and prepared to… umm… I don’t even know what I was preparing to do. Not good, but I had to start somewhere.
North and low.
I could at least do that.
Goddess on high, got a little problem here.
I’d be ever so grateful for your mom jeans wearin’ ear.
My life is so full and my blessings are rich,
I need you to help me make the darkness my motherfucking bitch.
I swear on my honor, I’ll owe you a biggie,
And in case you didn’t know… Marge and Roy are getting jiggy.
Yes, I’m caving to gossip, and I know that is cheap,
But I’m getting desperate, dude, I’m in over my head and ass deep.
Roger has multiple peens and my yard is a mess,
So stay with me Goddess and I won’t tell anyone that you do the nasty with Julio Iglesias.
With a sharp wave of my hand and clearly no help from the Goddess, a blast of black fire burst from my fingertips and I blew a hole in my backyard the size of an Olympic swimming pool. I flew about fifteen feet in the air and black sparkles covered every inch of my body making my awesome red hair look like fiery soot.
“Motherhumper,” I shouted as I crawled to my knees and examined my newest crater.
“Was it the fact she said mom jeans or motherfucker?” Bermangoggleshitz asked as he sprinted over to make sure I was okay.
“Not sure,” Marge said, frantically. “It may have been the veiled threat about Julio.”
“And how does she know about us?” Roy asked.
“I’d hazard a guess that Sassy told her.”
I lay on the ground and stared at the sky. Ignoring Marge and Roy was easy. I had way bigger problems. Why didn’t the Goddess help me? Did I have to go through this for a reason? Was I not supposed to have my happily ever after? Was my past coming back to bite me in the ass and giving up my happiness was my penance—or rather, punishment?
My heart felt like it weighed a thousand tons, but my eyes were dry. Loving as much as I did now had taught me something very valuable. I would give my life for my children and Mac. And if leaving would keep them safe, then I would do that too. It would kill me more assuredly than real death, but…
“Something isn’t right here,” Bermangoggleshitz said as he examined me for injuries.
“No shit, Sherlock,” I grumbled.
He wouldn’t find any injuries. Outwardly I was a little banged up, but I was fine. Now inside my heart was a different story… that was where the damage was.
“It’s as if an outside force is at play, but that’s impossible,” Marge said. “We need Carol. Has anyone heard from her?”
“Nope,” Sassy said as she ran out to the backyard to see what the ruckus was.
She hadn’t waited the three hours and thirty-two minutes that she’d needed to be able to ignore the horror show she’d seen this morning. I almost laughed as she very obviously and studiously avoided eye contact with her Rad and his Twister partner.
“You know,” Sassy said, as she gathered me into her arms and helped me to my feet. “You blew a perfect hole to build a swimming pool in. Would have taken the Shifter construction crew a month to get it so deep and perfect. You feel me?”
Looking at the large perfectly shaped rectangle, I had to agree. I’d always wanted a pool and now I was halfway there.
“You’re a glass half full kind of freak,” I told her with a small smile.
“Is that a good thing?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at me.
“Yes, Sassy Louise Bermangoggleshitz Pants. It’s a very good thing.”
Sassy curtseyed and danced around me.
“I just don’t know what I should do. Should stay or I should go?” I whispered.
“That’s a great song,” she replied.
“What?” I asked, totally frustrated. I was having a break down here and Sassy was… well, being Sassy.
“Sorry,” she said with a grin. “I was speaking Clash-ish.”
And I laughed. I laughed hard. Sassy had just made a really good one.
“You got me,” I said.
“I did?” she crowed with delight.
“You did indeed. But I’m serious. I think I’m a danger to everyone.”
“I call bullshitorama,” Sassy said. “And that’s Profanican in case you were wondering. You are staying right here where you and I belong. You’re gonna get a handle on this dark crap and in the meantime you can offer out your services and put in shitastic pools for everyone in Assjacket. You could make a few bucks and a bunch of Shifters really happy.”
“Hello?” a familiar voice called out from the side of the house.
My stomach lurched and felt a little queasy. I hadn’t seen this particular individual since I’d multiplied his man tool. If he’d come to let me have it, I’d take it. I deserved nothing less.
“We’re back here,” I yelled as I stepped away from Sassy. If I was going to get reamed out, I was going to take it like a big girl witch—on my own.
“Zelda,” Roger said, completely out of breath. “Love what you’ve done with your hair—very goth and sparkly.”
“Umm… thank you,” I mumbled, biting down on my lips so I wouldn’t laugh.
Roger was wearing a skirt—a bright orange and lime freakin’ green plaid skirt with a ruffle. I knew that pants would be an issue with his enhancement, but a skirt?
“Roger, you’re rockin’ that skirt,” Sassy complimented him on his heinous look.
“It’s a kilt,” he replied blushing under her praise. “The new package calls for roomier attire.”
“You’re sure that’s a kilt?” Sassy asked, cocking her head to the side and taking a closer look.
“Yes,” he confirmed proudly. “Fat Bastard procured it for me. Said it was all the rage in Oklahoma.”
“Fat Bastard lies,” I pointed out.
“Yes,” Roger agreed readily. “But I don’t care. I love this look and think I’m working it with style. I’ve ordered these beauties for all the men in town—you too, Roy. I’m confident in my masculinity and wearing a kilt proves that. Also, it doesn’t squash my bits.”
“So you’re not mad at me?” I asked.
“Not at all,” he assured me. “It is rather unusual, but I’m getting used to it. My aim in the lavatory is sketchy at best, but practice makes perfect.”
My mouth dropped open, but nothing came out. I had nothing to add.
“So I’m here because something rather strange is happening in town and I was hoping you could shed some light on it,” he said looking a bit worried.
“What’s happening?” Bermangoggleshitz asked, staring in horror at Roger’s skirt.
“Well, big craters are popping up all over the place. The last one happened about ten minutes ago. It’s the size of an Olympic swimming pool. Now while it would be lovely to have an Assjacket Community Country Club. I think the middle of Main Street might not be the best location.”
“Impossible,” Roy said, staring at me.
“Preposterous,” Marge added staring at me.
“Fuckin’ A,” Sassy said, giving me a thumbs up.
“Shit,” I gasped out right before everything went black.
The last thing I remembered was hitting the ground with a thud.
The darkness was winning.
Chapter Sixteen
“I don’t believe it,” Mac growled. “I refuse to believe it. Not happening.”
“Buwshit,” Henry yelled and Audrey echoed him loudly.
“You see?” Mac said. “Your children agree.
Mac’s eyes were wild and his wolf was very close to the surface. The truth will set you free but it may well piss off your little family unit.
The aftermath of the discovery of my multiplying crater issue was rough. Thankfully, I’d come to almost immediately, but I was now terrified of
myself and what I could potentially do. Marge had taken over and made up some story that put Roger’s mind at ease. He had scurried off back to town to assure everyone that the crater problem was under control and that the City Council should move ahead with County Club plans while my pool digging skills were in season.
Bermangoggleshitz was a freakin’ mess. He stood in the middle of the largest crater muttering to himself. After her tall tale, Marge was pacing the yard, praying to the Goddess.
Sassy was the only calm one. My dingbat buddy was drawing out the plans for a cabana to go next to the Olympic sized pool and had cleverly designed all the other craters to be a series of hot tubs named after the many languages she planned to learn in the next decade.
And me? I had made my decision. I didn’t like it and clearly Mac, Henry and Audrey didn’t like it either.
“Look,” I said, pasting what I hoped passed for a smile on my face. “It’s not necessarily forever. I’ll just go to a remote place with no people and very few animals that don’t mind craters and I’ll learn how to control my dark magic.”
“And where might that be?” Mac asked tersely.
“Probably Oklahoma,” Sassy chimed in from the couch, still engrossed in her backyard design.
“Oklahoma?” Mac shouted, shaking his head in disbelief.
“The men wear plaid skirts with ruffles there,” Sassy explained. “If Fat Bastard wasn’t lying, I’m gonna guess that half the population has moved to another state. The skirts are awful. Trust me. I think it’s a wise choice.”
“Nobody asked you,” Mac said, in a dangerously low voice as his fangs dropped.
“Sorry, you weren’t specific when you posed the question. My bad,” she whispered as Jeeves gently moved her out of Mac’s sightline.
An angry werewolf King was not someone anyone wanted to mess with. Even Bermangoggleshitz looked uncomfortably impressed.
“Zelda, you are not leaving. I can’t live without you. I don’t want to live without you,” Mac stated flatly.
My heart was shredding and I closed my eyes so I couldn’t see that his was doing the same. “Mac, if I died. What would you do?”
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