by Renee George
Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Robyn Peterman. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Magic and Mayhem remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Robyn Peterman, or their affiliates or licensors.
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Witchin’ Impossible 3: Familiar Protocol
A Magic and Mayhem World Story
Witchin’ Impossible Mystery Book 3
By Renee George
Dedication
For my sister Robbin.
You are a rock star!!
Acknowledgments
A special THANK YOU to the fabulous Robyn Peterman, an awesomely funny writer and my favorite cookie, for allowing me the privilege to write in her world. I love your guts, woman!! You make me want to live in Magic & Mayhem!
Also, I must thank the usual suspects, my BFF sister and most fabulous beta reader Robbin. Thank you for all the brainstorming and staying up with me late at night.
To my Rebels, you all RAWK! I love you like I love my leg.
To my fans, I would not be anything without you. Seriously. If you keep reading, I’ll keep writing! Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. If I were reviewing you all, you would get five-gazillion stars and a million-gazillion smooches.
Oh! And, as always, black coffee. Without you, I couldn’t get out of bed in the afternoon, let alone write a single word.
A disgruntled bear fiancé. A wanted familiar. A hairless cat named Lonnie.. For Hazel Kinsey, it's just another day in Paradise Falls.
When Hazel's familiar Tizzy the Squirrel fell in love with another familiar, they had no idea her furry pal would gain witch magic.
Apparently, that’s a big no-no for the High Familiar Clowder, the council who rules all familiars. When the Clowder shows up in Paradise Falls to decommission Tizzy and send her to the in-between, Haze defies the stick-in-the-butt jerkfaces by refusing to trade in Tiz for a new familiar.
But the Clowder means business. They strip Hazel of her magic, leaving her no better than a human. Worst of all, she’s lost the mating scent she shared with her bear-beau, the hunky-handsome Ford Baylor. Without it or her witch powers, she can never be a real mate for him.
With only seventy-two hours to find a solution to her familiar and fiancé problems, Hazel and pals must find a way to stop the Clowder, get Hazel witchified again, save Tizzy and her true love, and oh yeah, battle sinister forces intent on glomming as much power as possible.
Yep. Just another day in Paradise Falls.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
About the Author
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Chapter One
“OH MY GODDESS. If there’s a witch heaven, this must be what it tastes like.” My eyes rolled back as the sweet confection of lemon buttercream and raspberry filling between the six layers of moist vanilla sponge, lit up my taste buds like cheap Roman candles on the Fourth of July.
Tizzy, my flying squirrel familiar, and I had been trying different flavors of cake since three o’clock. It was now four-fifteen. Luckily, one of the perks of being a witch was not gaining weight, which is a good thing, considering I’d easily put away twenty-million-bazillion calories. All sugar and fat. Mmmm mmmm mmm. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
“Doorknobs and broomsticks, Haze. Do I need to book a room so you can be alone with the cake?” Tiz said. She dragged her tiny clawed finger through the frosting and put it to her lips. Her big brown eyes brightened as she took another swipe. “I’ll make that a room for three. Wow. That is orgasmic.”
“Uh-huh,” I mumbled through my fifth bite. Then I realized what she’d said. “Ew. I do not want to think about you and…” I waved my hand at her.
“And orgasms?” Tizzy tried a little chunk of the sponge. “Yum.” Her long dark brown eyelashes fluttered as she savored the moment. After, she opened her eyes and gave me a cross look. “Don’t be a child, Haze. I’ve got a girlfriend now. You know orga—”
I put a buttercream frosted fingertip to her lips. “Not another word. Blech. I can’t hear about you and Lumpypits without triggering my gag reflex.”
“Lupitia,” Tizzy said, her speech unhindered by my finger barrier.
I shrugged. “You say potato, I say Loopypoopy.” I was still coming to terms with having two familiars under my roof. Ever since that stupid cat’s witch managed to get herself jailed after attempting a dangerous ritual to wake up old magic over Halloween, the cat had been staying with us at the new house.
I smiled. I shouldn’t. But I did. My bear Shifter fiancé, Ford Baylor and I only got that house because of an unfortunate murder related to the old magic that nearly killed the entire town of Paradise Falls, of course.
“What’s with the heavy sigh?” Tizzy had laid down on her stomach in front of her hot cocoa thimble cup, her little fists balled up under her chin. “You worried Ford has lost that loving feeling?”
“A. I didn’t sigh. And B. Mind your own business.” Ford had been a little distant the past three weeks, and whenever I asked him if anything was wrong, he’d give me some quick answer about being fine then change the subject.
Argh. I’d spent thirty-seven years of my life without the complication of a relationship, and a few times lately, I’d began to wonder if I shouldn’t have waited another thirty-seven.
Kidding. I adored my hunka-hunka-burning-bearman-love. He made my knees knock, my knickers twist, and my knick-knack paddy whack. He certainly knew how to give a witch a bone.
“Yuck, Haze. Just yuck.” Tizzy’s expression was pure repulsion.
“Cripes.” I forgot she could read my thoughts now. Another side effect of having Loopatootie in our lives.
Of course, I am not a traditional witch. I spent almost as much time in the human world as I ever did in the paranormal. I should have paid more attention in “The Care and Maintenance of Familiars” class in high school.
Tizzy swished her tail back and forth. “I see the tension. So thick I can cut it with my fingernail.” She held up a hot pink, neatly manicured claw. “Is that why I’m here eating cake with you instead of Ford?”
I took another bite, this time the lemon tasted as sour as my darkening mood. “No.” Maybe. “You’re here because you invited yourself along, and Ford had work.”
“You’re the boss, Haze. It says so on your office door. Chief of Police.” She shook her head and puffed her furry cheeks out. “You need to get a hold of your man before he hightails it back to his cave in the deep woods.”
“Ford has never lived in a cave,” was my lame defense.
“I’m just saying. You have to com-mune-eh-cate,” she enunciated. “That’s the only way to make a relationship work.”
“And what makes you a relationship expert?”
“Lupitia and I are coming up on four blissful months.”
“More like three and some change. You know that c
at is going to break your heart. They are jerks, each and every one of them.”
Tizzy gasped and clutched her chest. “I never thought I say this, Haze, but you’re a racist.”
“Am not!” I crossed my arms. “Maybe a speciesist, if that’s even a thing, but I believe every person is created equal. Lulupussygalore is not a person.”
Tizzy’s mouth drooped into a frown, and her eyes narrowed. “So…what does that make me then?”
Uh oh. “I’m so sorry, Tiz. I didn’t mean…”
“I understand now. To you, I’m a freaking pet, right? I’m property. You think you are the more important of the two of us in this friendship…scratch that…partnership, because we ain’t friends anymore, Hazel Kinsey.”
“Come on, now. Don’t be like that. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.” This was going to take more than a day spa pass and a gift certificate for Moo La Latte coffee shop to fix. I might actually have to be nice to… “Lupitia is so nice to you, but she’s so mean to me,” I whined.
“You said her name right.” Tizzy sat back on her hind legs. “That’s a start. You may not like her, Haze, but I love her.”
“And I love Ford. That doesn’t stop you from making fun of him, calling him names like Fozzy, Teddy, and Winnie all the time.” I didn’t have any real moral high ground, but I felt like the metaphorical “upper hand” ball had landed in my court. “If you stop talking crap about my boyfriend, I’ll stop talking crap about your…cat.”
Her chest froze for a few seconds as she held her breath, paused in thought. She tapped her cheek and shook her head. “I can’t. I just can’t do it. Baloo gives me too much ammunition to pass up.”
“Ha ha. Very funny.”
She giggled, making a noise that sounded like chittering. “It really is. I have a million of them.”
My phone rang. I yanked it out of my purse, eager to end the awful banter between us. “Chief Kinsey,” I answered.
“Haze,” a deep voice that made my heart race and witchy bits shiver said. It was Ford. I pulled the phone away from my ear. The number wasn’t familiar. Whose phone was he calling on?
“Ford,” I said when I put the phone back to my ear. “What’s wrong with your phone?”
“It fell in the water.”
“What water?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.” I drew a heart in the cake crumbs on my plate. Next, I drew a slash through it. Tizzy’s eyes widened. I shook my head at her.
“Uh oh,” she said.
“What?” I mouthed.
“Got to go, Haze. See ya at home.” And she poofed out. Dang it! It was another power she’d gained as a result of living with that crabby cat.
“Haze? You still there?”
“I’m here,” I told Ford. “You sound like you have bad news. Do you have bad news? If so, just say it. Rip it off like a bloody bandage.”
“Your—”
The door opened to the bakery, and I hissed into the phone, “Two tabbies, a Burmese, a British short hair, a Siamese, and a two Bombay cats walked into the bakery.”
“Is this the beginning of a joke?” He sounded annoyed.
“No.” The mixed bag of pussycats surrounded my table, each one of them casting a judgmental glare at me. “I’m going to have to call you later.”
“But Haze—”
“I’m sorry, Ford. I’ll make it up to you. Remember the red crotchless panties?” I hung up on him before he could answer.
“Disgusting,” the Siamese cat said, its voice decidedly male. It had the classic creamy tan and black markings of its breed. “Hazel Kinsey, you are hereby summoned.”
“For what? And who the hell are you to summon me?” Cats were so freaking bossy. Another reason I didn’t like Loogiebutt.
“We are the High Familiar Clowder,” the British short hair answered.
“Isn’t that soup?”
“Not chowder,” said the black Bombay on the right of me. “You really are a stupid witch.”
“Hey!” I pointed at the smug black cat. “Sticks and stones will break your bones when I pick them up and beat you with them.”
He took a step back. “You and your familiar are hereby charged with illegally acquiring an unregistered familiar. Do you deny these charges?”
“I most certainly do.” I had no idea what these kitties were going on about. “Who are you again?”
“The High Familiar Clow—”
“Right, right. Clam chowder.” I stood up. The seven of them moved in like a well-oiled military unit, surrounding my fuzzy winter boots. “Back off, gatos. I’m the chief in this town, and I’ll haul you in for Invasion of Personal Space.”
“That’s not a thing,” one of the tabbies said.
“Hey, buddy.” I put an indignant hand on my hip. “I make the laws around here.” I was beginning to think Tizzy had seen this coming and that’s why she’d skedaddled. I was going to kill her when I got home.
“You only enforce the laws. You can’t make them.” The voice behind the words was shrill and high pitched.
I groaned. Tanya Freaking Geller. The town medical examiner, a healer witch, and a general pain in my bootie. Oh, and she was dating my dad. Bile rose in my throat when I saw her standing in the doorway on the arm of the aforesaid mentioned father.
“Dad.” I nodded to my old man, who really, looked anything but old. Again, perks of being a witch. Or a warlock in his case. He looked young enough to be my brother. Which meant, that even though Tanya was my age, they really did make a nice looking couple. But why Tanya. She was my nemesis.
I looked at Tanya again. “I don’t need any help from you.”
“Balderdash,” my father said.
“Balderdash to you too,” I told him.
The Burmese said, “I’m Balderdash, you ignorant witch.”
“At least my name isn’t dumb.”
My father spoke, intervening before I could step in it again. “What is the HFC doing in Paradise Falls?”
“Yeah.” I gave a quick nod. “What are you all doing here?”
“We’ve come to retrieve and rehabilitate Tisiphone and Lupitia.” The black cat on the right of me rubbed his body against my boot. “You will be assigned a new familiar until further notice.”
Chapter Two
“YOU HAVE GOT TO be kidding me.” I stared at the big eared, hairless, pink-skinned cat sitting on the wooden altar and almost crapped myself. My father had moved our party to the Shifter-Witch Coalition building. The seven cats that made up the familiar high mucky mucks sat in the chairs usually reserved for the coalition.
The naked monstrosity on the altar gave me a bored look.
I pointed at it. “What am I supposed to do with this little mutant?”
“Lonnie is your new familiar,” Balderdash said.
I’d been introduced to the entire clowder now, and they all bore ridiculous names. The two Bombay black cats were Deva and Devi. The gray British short hair was Queenie, and the Siamese was named Pluto. The tabbies were John and Jane, which just sounded like aliases to me. Behind them were four witches, two blondes and two redheads, which meant creators and healers, and three warlocks, one with brown hair, one with black, and one was a sandy blonde, which meant nothing because warlocks were less powerful than witches. They were lined up girl-boy-girl style, and they all stared in my direction, but almost as if they were looking through me not at me. They were ridiculously attractive, even more so than the normal witch, but what really caught my attention was the pulse of power emanating from them as a group.
My creep-o-meter pinged in the red, but I had bigger problems at the moment than the Stepford witches and warlocks.
“I don’t need a new familiar. I have a perfectly good squirrel. And why are only cat familiars represented here?” I couldn’t believe Tizzy called me a bigot. It seemed like familiars had their own hierarchy based on form.
“Tisiphone is under investigation. Her association with you h
as been less than an ideal partnership. According to regulation five-oh-one six B, a familiar shall at all times promote a healthy use of sound magic for his or her witch.”
“And what makes you think she doesn’t?”
“We have had several complaints filed,” Devi said. “Like burning a hole through he earth’s core with hot coffee. Or using magic during a magic ban at Halloween.”
“Someone had been murdered,” I said in my defense.
Devi’s green eyes almost glowed with condemnation. “We take these complaints seriously.”
I cast an accusing glare at Tanya. The redheaded witch shook her head and threw up her hands. “It wasn’t me.”
“Uh huh.”
“It doesn’t matter who informed us of the matter, Ms. Kinsey. The point is, we believe that Tisiphone has crossed the line between witch and familiar and familiar. She has developed a bond with the unregistered Lupitia that borders on unprecedented and immoral.”
“Homophobes!” I cried out. “Tizzy is allowed to be with who she wants. Love is love, you baboonish bags of wind.”
The female tabby Jane stood up on all four paws. “You misunderstand us, Ms. Kinsey. We could care less if Tisiphone has relations with Lupitia. The line she crossed is mystical, not physical. Lupitia has bonded with her.”
I must have looked as dumbfounded as felt, because John said, “Lupitia has become Tisiphone’s familiar. She is developing powers she shouldn’t have as a result.”
“No effing way.” I shook my head. “I thought a familiar couldn’t be bonded to two witches or a witch and a squirrel in this case. How is that even possible?” Romy Quinn, Lupitia’s witch, had been part of a coven that had accidentally almost unleashed hell on Paradise Falls. She, along with her cohort Jenny Weaver, the only two of the coven to survive, was locked away in Salem at Baba Yaga’s maximum magical prison for bad witches. Lupitia shouldn’t have been able to magically bond with a turnip. “Romy Quinn is her witch. Not Tiz.”
“Romy Quinn is dead.” Deva, the male black cat, leaned forward, his laser sight boring a hole through my skull.
