A Tale Of Two Witches: Magic and Mayhem Book Five

by Robyn Peterman

  “Umm… about that,” Chip said, chewing his gum at a speed that I was sure was going to blast him through the roof of the house. “We got let go.”

  “Let go early?” I asked, my eyes narrowing.

  “Wellllll, that’s one way to put it,” Chutney chimed in with a shrug as his gum smacking hit warp speed.

  “Andanotherwaytoputitiswegotfired,” Chunk informed me sheepishly.

  I was fairly sure I heard the word fired in that mangled sentence. Unacceptable. No one was going to fire my boys and get away with it. They were just children—wait, they weren’t exactly children, but they were my kids.

  I was having a bad day. The Hooch sisters had tried to kill me with hot wax and now someone had fired my boys. Since the violent Hooches scared the living daylights out of me, I was going take on the person who’d unjustly terminated my rodents.

  “Come on. Momma’s gonna kick some ass,” I said as I marched the four out of the house. “Wait.” I froze, racked my brain for a moment and came up with absolutely nothing. “Who in the Goddess’s name do you work for?”

  I probably should have known this information as their mother, but whatever.

  “Jango Fett,” Chip whispered with wide and terrified eyes.

  “Boba Fett,” Chutney added with a shudder.

  “And Fat Bastard,” Chad finished.

  And now the day couldn’t get much worse.

  I’d had no freakin’ clue my innocent little baby boys had been in cahoots with Zelda’s rotund and felonious familiars. Those obnoxious fat-ass felines had made my life hell before I landed in Assjacket, West Virginia. It was time for a little payback.

  “Let’s go skin some cats,” I snapped as I shoved the boys into my crappy car.

  “Seriously?” Chip choked out, shaking like a leaf.

  Why did I always forget my kids were vegetarians when I was smack talking? I was trying so hard not to give them reasons to talk about me in therapy. Maybe I wasn’t a fit mother. Nah, I was awesome.

  “It’s just a saying,” I told Chip, consoling him with a hug as I buckled him into the giant sized booster seats I’d conjured up for my kids. Babies R Us didn’t have anything I needed for my big boys. “My gag reflex precludes me from going all Hannibal Lecter on people.”

  “Or cats?” Chutney inquired, still worried.

  “Or cats,” I promised. “But those sizeable shitbombs are gonna get a piece of my mind. No one messes with Sassy’s little boys.”

  Starting the car, it dawned on me that I was unaware of my children’s ages—so many dang things to remember when you were a motherhumpin’ mother. I mean, I’d only had them for a few months, but I should probably know how old they were. Thank the Goddess they could walk and talk. I’d be in a magical mountain of trouble if I had to remember to feed them.

  “How old are you guys anyway?” I asked as they fidgeted in their car seats and poked at each other.

  “How old do we look?” Chutney asked with a huge grin.

  “Is that a trick question?”

  “Maybe,” Chip replied with a giggle that made me smile. “Wanna make a wager?”

  The smile fell from my face in a hot second. “Umm… no, that’s what got you little sons of bitches in trouble to begin with. Need I say the name Bermangoggleshitz to you? Or should we discuss your almost deadly debt and Chutney being kidnapped?”

  All four shuddered and hung their undersized heads in shame. I hated playing bad cop, but they were my responsibility. I’d skin their asses if they got themselves killed for being stupid.

  “Don’t tell Daddy we were naughty,” Chad begged, wringing his tiny hands. “He’ll be so sad.”

  “Ilovemydaddysomuchhesthenicestmanintheworld,” Chunk explained very seriously.

  “Mmm… kay,” I said, wondering if I recorded him talking with my cell phone if it would speak it back slowly to me.

  “Daddy is the nicest man in the world,” Chad agreed solemnly. “Everyone loves Daddy.”

  No argument from me on that one. Jeeves truly was the best person I’d ever known. Everyone loved him, but what was amazing was that he loved me. He never had a mean word for anyone. He was also every kind of gorgeous and a total animal in the sack. I thanked my lucky stars nightly for him.

  “Here’s the deal,” I said, speaking my plan as I made it—very normal for me. “I won’t tell Jeeves, but you turds will get real jobs. Nothing will even remotely be illegal about them.”

  “Can we work in the bar?” Chad inquired, chomping away on a wad of gum the size of my fist.

  “Are you even old enough to do that?”

  The laughter in the back seat gave me pause. The tiny idiots were cackling so hard I was sure I was going to have to Heimlich one for choking on a wad of gum.

  “Not aware that I made a joke,” I said, whipping my head around and staring at the guffawing chipmunks.

  I had to bite back a grin. Their laughter sounded like they’d swallowed a vat of helium. It was tremendously hard to stay mad at the little fuckers when they were so young, innocent and sweet.

  “I’m ninety-five,” Chad squealed between giggles.

  “Hundredandtwoandfortythreedaysold,” Chunk chimed in.

  “Ninety-three,” Chip added, still laughing it up.

  “Ninety-seven,” Chutney finished off.

  I was silent. I was shocked. I was pissed. This was not right. They barely came up to my hip. I mean I was tall at five foot nine, but they were miniature. And how in the hell old was Chunk? It kind of sounded like he might be a thousand…

  My babies were old enough to be my freakin’ great-grandfathers. And Chunk? Whatever. Chunk was Chunk. I simply needed to accept that I was never going to understand a word he said.

  “We thought you knew,” Chip said, taking in my expression with worry.

  “Nope,” I replied, trying to figure out how to deal with this. It simply wouldn’t do to have kids three times my damn age. People would think I was old, for the love of the Goddess.

  I was twenty-nine and very aware that I didn’t blow chipmunks out of my Virginia. I adopted my rodents, but still…

  “How about everyone says they’re twelve and leave it at that,” I suggested. “It’s too weird to have sons over three times my age. You feel me?”

  Nodding enthusiastically, they agreed.

  Good. One problem solved without magic or bloodshed. The next problem wasn’t going to be as simple.

  Chapter Three

  “I waxed the cats,” I confessed guiltily. The words tumbled out of my mouth quickly before Jeeves could ask why I was covered in fur. “They fired our babies, who happen to be in their nineties. Chunk might be a thousand—couldn’t quite make out what he said. Did you know that?”

  I kept going as I was on a roll and desperately wanted him to understand my violent hairy episode… and still love me.

  “The fact that they’re older than dirt really threw me. I’ve decided to pretend that I don’t know our children could be my great-grandfather—or grandfathers to be more specific. It would be odd to have four identical grandfathers with tiny heads, but I suppose no odder than the fact I’m a witch, you’re a kangaroo Shifter, and they’re chipmunks. Right?”

  My entire confession had come out on one long breath. I was literally dizzy. Grabbing the back of the couch, I said a quick prayer to the Goddess that my latest smackdown with the inhabitants of Assjacket wasn’t going to be the one that made Jeeves leave me.

  I knew he would eventually go—everyone did in my experience.

  “You waxed the cats?” he asked, biting back what I really hoped was a grin and not a wince.

  “I did.”

  I wasn’t in the same goodness league as Jeeves aka Kyle aka the man of my dreams. He was kind, talented, gorgeous, and way too good for the likes of someone like me. He just didn’t realize it yet. I knew the other shoe would drop eventually, but I was a better person with him. I wanted to be a better person for him.

  “You’re
beautiful,” he said, startling me.

  Jeeves leaned against the wall in our kitchen as a smile pulled at his full lips. His kangaroo side showed as he pushed off the wall and rocked back and forth on his feet. My girlie parts tingled. He was left of center gorgeous—just like I liked ‘em—six feet of hard bodied, long haired, silver-blue eyed beautiful. I almost fainted the first time I saw him shirtless. Of course his clothing choices were about fifty miles left of center, but everything underneath was 110% all man—muscular, sexy and umm… huge.

  But best of all he was mine, at least for the time being.

  “I’m beautiful because I waxed the obese cats?” I asked, confused. Not anything unusual about me being clueless.

  “Nope,” he said with a sexy lopsided grin that made my heart flutter. “Because you love our children so much, you’d de-hair anyone that did them wrong.”

  “Didn’t even use magic to do the deed—well only a little,” I bragged, feeling relieved that he hadn’t sprinted out the door.

  The boys had been shocked by my actions. Actually, I was a little shocked too. I’d never done anything quite like de-hairing a cat—or three—but the violent Hooch sisters were still on my brain, and the aftermath of their debauchery was still vibrating in my pants. Next thing I knew I’d conjured up a vat of hot wax and went to town.

  I was smart enough not to use magic directly on the rotund wise guys. Any magic shot at the cats came back onto the aggressor. I’d already been waxed today. My Virginia was enough, losing my long blonde locks and eyebrows was not an option.

  “They’re a little put out from what I hear,” Jeeves said, stating it mildly as he bounced lightly on his toes. “Of course, they’ve gone into hiding.”

  Fat Bastard, Boba Fett and Jango Fett were horrified at being kitty-naked. Their squishy, lumpy, albino-ish fat rolls were something I was sure was going to visit me in my nightmares. They’d hired back my chipmunks immediately after I’d waxed them. I figured it was fine as long as I kept tabs on exactly what the job entailed. With Chunk’s completely mangled handle on the English language, I was just happy he had a job at all.

  “I’d guess it’ll take at least two weeks for them to grow enough hair that they’ll come out of hiding and take their revenge,” I told Jeeves with a giggle. “I’ll come up with something by then.”

  “Beautiful,” he repeated, looking at me with such adoration I felt my heart skip a beat.

  What in the Goddess’s name did he see in me? Oh, I was pretty, but that was genetics and most witches were attractive. Back in the old days, it helped to be attractive since we were so dang weird. Of course being ravishing didn’t stop the masses from wanting to fry us at the stake, but…whatever.

  I knew I wasn’t exactly pretty on the inside and I kept waiting for Jeeves to figure that unsavory fact out.

  “You’re not mad?”

  “Nope,” he said, moving toward me. “I think you might have made a few wiser decisions, but I’m not mad.”

  Not exactly sure what he meant, I met him halfway and wrapped my arms around his strong body. He smelled like amazing—all soapy, sexy man. I held on tight. Maybe he would rub off on me and I’d make better decisions or become a different person entirely. Although I still thought waxing the cats was a pretty good move.

  “I’m so in love with you,” I whispered, burying my face in his chest and breathing him in.

  “This is a good thing,” he replied huskily, as his blue eyes went green with desire.

  Taking my chin gently in his hand, he made me look at him. That was hard for me—not the looking at him part. I could look at him for the rest of my life and be happy. The part I feared was the eventual look of goodbye in his expression. I was avoiding it at all costs.

  “Sassy, I love you,” he said, brushing his lips against mine.

  Goddess, I wanted to believe him—I really did. Nodding and deciding to say nothing was my first really good move of the day. Terrified that all the reasons he shouldn’t love me would come pouring from my mouth, I opted to zip it.

  “Why won’t you believe me?” he asked, searching my eyes and tilting his head.

  “Umm…” I couldn’t think of any other answer than the truth and that was a mood killer.

  “You are lovable,” Jeeves insisted.

  “I know,” I lied with a smile, as I wiggled out of his arms.

  It wouldn’t do to cry. Jeeves needed a strong woman. I wanted so badly to be that woman.

  Shaking his head and sighing, he grabbed me again and kissed me until my toes tingled. “Someday you’ll believe me, my Sassy girl.”

  “I hope you’re right,” I whispered and pressed myself even closer to his beautiful body, trying to absorb some of his goodness and strength. Of course his hard body crushed against my softer one was an added benefit.

  “I know I’m right,” he promised. “For the time being, I’ll believe enough for both of us. You’ll get there when you’re ready.”

  “Will you still be here when I’m ready?”

  “I will always be here. Always.”

  Goddess, I prayed that was true.

  Jeeves grabbed his keys off the kitchen table and then laid another hot smackaroo on my lips. I knew he had to go back to work at the Assjacket Diner, but I wished he would just run away with me and we could live happily ever after on some random deserted island. It would drastically cut down my need for smacking down on people and demolishing buildings if there weren’t any there. But that was just a dream.

  We had geriatric children to raise, a home and friends.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Jeeves gently brushed my blonde curls away from my face.

  “Will it be in French?” I inquired.

  “No,” he replied with a laugh. “No French today.”

  “Okay, ask away.”

  “What made you even think to wax the cats?”

  Hmmm, how to answer this one…

  “Well, I umm… kind of visited the Hooch sisters this morning and ending up with a vibrating, varnished Virginia,” I whispered, staring at my hands and praying to the Goddess that Jeeves would think bald was sexy.

  “Really?” he asked, adjusting himself in his pants as his eyes blazed green with desire.

  Bingo! Win-win for the varnished va-jay-jay.

  “Yep. Wanna see?” I asked, batting my eyelashes and grinning from ear to ear.

  “Yesssss,” he croaked out as he ran his hands through his hair making it stand on end. “Can you hold that action until I get home from work?”

  He was now doubled over in pain and I’d never been so happy.

  “What about the boys?”

  “What boys?” he asked.

  Clearly all the blood had left his brain and travelled south.

  “Our kids,” I reminded him with a grin.

  “Right. We have children. They can sleep outside tonight. Fresh air is good for them,” Jeeves insisted wildly as he limped-hopped over to the door.

  His movement was as labored as mine had been after the Hooch episode. All. Kinds. Of. Awesome.

  “You gonna be all right?” I asked with a delighted giggle.

  “Nope,” he shot back with a pained chuckle, as he forced himself out the front door. “However, I will make you pay for this tonight.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yep,” he replied with a sexy grin that made my Virginia crank into overdrive. “You’ll be paying until the sun comes up.”

  My life was very, very good.

  Chapter Four

  “That’s not going to work for me,” I said firmly, rearranging the photo collage of my four gum-chewing chipmunk Shifter freak sons on the shelf in my den.

  I loved my little house. It was adorable and mine—well, ours. Our little family, all together; me and Jeeves and the boys. Shabby Chic and Mackenzie-Childs from floor to ceiling. The wild swirls of bold color and checkerboards of Mackenzie-Childs mixed with the muted floral patterns of Shabby Chic calmed my witchy soul. Jeeves was all
for whatever I wanted. The only thing he’d insisted on was a state of the art kitchen. No one had a problem with that. Jeeves made delicious magic in the kitchen. The sweet rodents and I were the beneficiaries.

  I’d never had an actual house to call home until now. Frilly and comfy made me feel happy and secure. My house was my safe place. Zelda wasn’t allowed to fuck up my safe place.

  “Alrighty then.” Zelda scrunched her nose and flopped down on the couch. “Which part of ‘Bermangoggleshitz is your father’ don’t you understand?”

  “I understand you because you’re not speaking French,” I snapped at her, hanging on by a thread. This day had turned from shit to awesome after I’d let Jeeves in on my Hooch sister visit and now Zelda was ruining it. “However, you just told me that a skanky, evil, smelly, butt-ugly warlock with the name Bermangoggleshitz is my sperm donor. That assmunch tried to kill my geriatric rodent children. Plus, Sassy Bermangoggleswhatever doesn’t work for me, so I decline the offer.”

  “Not exactly an offer,” Zelda said, grabbing my hand as I whipped by the couch on my way to rearrange anything else I could get my hands on.

  Pulling me down next to her, she threw her leg over mine and put her arms around my shoulders.

  “He’s your dad. He’s gross, corrupt and appalling and if you don’t want to deal with it, I’ll make sure you don’t have to. And if you do want to deal with it, I’ll be right there with you when you meet him. That choice is yours, but he is your father—no choice there.”

  “Sperm donor,” I repeated, correcting her. “Dads are guys who take you for ice cream, paint your nails, have tea parties, square dance, teach you spells and love you. He’s not my dad. My dad would not smell like a barely perfumed ball sac.”

  “Point,” Zelda agreed, looking a little confused. “Perfumed ball sac?”

  “Barely perfumed ball sac,” I corrected her.

  “My bad.”

  “No worries,” I told her.

  “So that’s what your sperm donor smells like?”