“Your phone number.” He grinned with a wink.
Thorne pushed himself away from the wall and stepped between the newly tattooed idiot and Wicked. “He pay you?” Thorne’s voice was harsh.
“Yes,” Wicked said, wondering what the hell was going on.
“Get the fuck out.” He turned the guy and ushered him to the door. “And don’t come back.”
Wicked’s mouth gaped in shock as she watched Thorne manhandle one of her customers out the door. The guy was being a dumbass, but she dealt with dumbasses every day. This was nothing new.
“Excuse me!” She slammed her hand on her hip, glaring at Thorne who had just turned toward her.
“The guy was an asshole,” Thorne said with a shrug.
“I’ll second that,” Bruce said as he strutted lazily across the floor. “What’s up, Thorne?”
“Not much, Bruce,” Thorne replied, but his eyes were still on Wicked. “How you been?”
“Ah, not too bad. Doing the ‘familiar’ thing and licking my nuts. All in a day’s work I guess you could say.” Bruce jumped up on the ledge of the window and made himself comfortable.
Wicked threw her head back and stared at the ceiling, asking the Goddess for strength to deal with pain-in-the-ass males. She was cursed with them for sure. “You guys done shooting the breeze? Or should I just come back later?”
“Hey, it’s your shop.” Bruce yawned as he stretched. “Do what you want. But first, before you do that, can you get me some chow. The tummy is doing some growling and....”
Bruce’s voice faded as he got a look at Wicked glaring at him.
“How about I feed you to him.” Wicked nodded toward a grinning Thorne.
“I don’t eat cats,” Thorne replied seriously. “Unless they piss me off.”
“Noted.” Bruce gave a nod.
“So why did you refuse to give Porky the rent?” Thorne changed the subject.
“Because my rent is due today, not three days ago when Porky showed up,” Wicked answered. She turned her back on him and walked toward the counter. “Plus, he was rude. He’s lucky he walked out of here intact.”
“He was an asshole,” Bruce added, flipping his ears with his paw when a fly buzzed by his head. “I had to talk Wicked down from turning him into a pig to fit his name. But pigs can’t be Shifters, so that would have caused an upheaval and a total shitstorm. And how is it a fox Shifter is called Porky? That’s a little fucked up.”
Wicked bent down, ignoring the conversation on the other side of the counter. She punched in the combination to her safe and opened the door. She grabbed her rent money and put the five hundred she just made in its place. Closing the door, she stood.
“Don’t send him back to collect rent.” She placed the envelope on the counter instead of handing it to him. “Because next time he comes in here acting like some badass with attitude, I will turn him into the pig he is and reap the consequences.”
Thorne stalked toward her slowly, his eyes narrowing as he stopped. The only thing between them was the counter. “No worries.” He leaned toward her. “I’ll be the one collecting from here on out.” His hand slammed on the rent money, and he slid it toward him. A smile tipped the corner of his full lips as he gave her a slow wink then turned, walking toward the door.
“Later, Thorne,” Bruce said as he leaned his head back, closing his eyes.
“You best watch licking them nuts so much, my friend,” Thorne said, stepping out the store. “It’ll make your dick limp.”
If Wicked wasn’t still shocked by Thorne’s wink, she would have laughed at the comical expression of horror on Bruce’s face at Thorne’s warning.
Chapter 3
Wicked stood in her small kitchen looking through her almost empty refrigerator. With a sigh, she shut the door, then twirled her finger as yellow sparkles left her fingertip. Roasted chicken, scalloped potatoes, and asparagus appeared, steaming on a plate with a salad, and a tall glass of iced sweet tea.
“How about twirling me some fish?” Bruce walked in, sniffing the air.
Rolling her eyes, she once again twirled her finger, and a plate of seared tuna materialized on the table. Bruce jumped up, giving the plate another sniff. “Perfect, my witch.”
“Don’t call me that.” Wicked picked up her plate and headed toward the table. With a grunt, she sat down, then snapped her fingers, changing into a pair of shorts and T-shirt.
“Sorry, but it’s hard to break a hundred-year habit.” Bruce dove into his tuna, chowing down. “So, what should I call you?”
“Really?” she replied, biting into a spear of asparagus. “We’ve had this conversation so many times that I’m about to strangle you with this vegetable. Call me Wicked and nothing else.” She pointed the half-eaten asparagus at him.
“Why is it a witch doesn’t like to be called a witch. Your name is Wicked for shit’s sake. When buddies ask me who my witch is, I say, ‘Wicked,’ and they say, ‘as in witch... Wicked witch.’ It’s quite catchy.” He wiggled his whiskers.
Wicked didn’t reply. She didn’t really hate her name but had spent years with the jokes of Wicked witch, Wicked bitch, or whatever else they could come up with. It grew old very quickly and yet she hadn’t changed her name when she could have easily done so. It was her way of remembering where she came from.
“Excuse me, Wicked, but did you forget something?” Bruce made sure to enunciate her name.
“You need to stop being so demanding.” She twirled her finger, and a bowl of liquid appeared.
Bruce gave her a look of disgust after seeing the bowl. “Red wine goes with tuna.” He purred a hiss.
Snapping her fingers, the wine turned red. How in the hell did she end up with a rock ‘n’ roll familiar who loved wine with every meal? Hell, what was she saying? If she kept wine in the house, the damn cat would be hammered all the time. “Happy now?”
“Blissfully.”
The silence was what was blissful, but it wasn’t long-lasting.
“So why didn’t Thorne get the rent for this place while he was here?” Bruce lapped at the wine with a purr of satisfaction.
“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Wicked shrugged the lie. She had wondered the same thing, but no way in hell was she going to offer it. Between her house rent and the tattoo business, her money was thin. The reason she took both the tattoo shop and the small house was because he gave her a break on rent if she took both in the offer. Of course, she could just snap her fingers and have a hefty bank account, but she refused to do that. She wanted to live as normally as she could. Plus, if she used too much magic, she could possibly be found, which was something she couldn’t afford, but not because of fear for herself. It was her fear for others that she refrained and only used simple magic that wouldn’t draw attention.
“Wicked, you can lie to anyone, even yourself, but you cannot lie to me.” Bruce licked the plate between words. “Do you want that hunka hunka burning Shifter to come knocking on your door?”
“You know, I could easily make you disappear.” Wicked lost her appetite.
“But you won’t,” he replied, tossing a knowing look her way. “What are you afraid of? I know you’re hiding something from me and as your familiar, I demand you tell me what it is. Ever since your friend, Kira, came to stay, you’ve acted weird.”
“No, I haven’t.” Wicked stood quickly because Bruce really could read her like a book. He lurked in her mind and when she wasn’t careful, he could pull anything and everything out of her overworked brain. It was hard to keep anything from him, and dammit, this was for his own good. The damn cat.
“I could call Baba Yaga....” He let his words fade away.
“You do, and I will never speak to you again.” Wicked dumped her uneaten food in the garbage scraping the plate clean with her fork. Baba Yaga was at least 300 years old, and the leader of witches. Not much scared Wicked, but Baba Yaga did, and the less she had to deal with her, the better. Plus, her wardrobe was atrocious, and her
entrances could kill as well as possibly explode her tiny house.
“That’s an old threat, Wicked.” Bruce tsked as he finished his wine. “Plus, I’ve heard Baba Yaga was dating, which has calmed her somewhat.”
“Who’s she dating?” Wicked turned, wondering why she cared, but she did like a little gossip here and there.
“Zelda, the new Shifter Wanker—”
“Shifter Wanker?” Wicked magically whipped herself up a glass of wine and sat back down. She didn’t get out much, and Bruce always had the juicy gossip.
“That’s what she wants to be called. Don’t know why, but she’s damn powerful, and who am I to judge? So anyhoo, Baba Yaga is dating Zelda’s father, Fabio, who used to be her familiar.”
“What?” Wicked shook her head after taking a large gulp of wine. “So let me get this straight. Baba Yaga is dating a cat?”
“Nooooo,” Bruce said slowly, as if talking to a child. “Baba Yaga is dating Fabio, who used to be Zelda’s familiar, but turns out he was her father who was turned into a cat by her mother, who is evil by the way, or was.” He snickered. “To make a long story short—”
“And less confusing?” Wicked cocked her eyebrow.
“Doubt it.” Bruce shook his head. “When Fabio was dying, Zelda confessed her love for her familiar, which was really her dad, and he returned to his human form. See?”
“Not really, but please do not go on,” Wicked added quickly when he was about to start again. “Where in the hell do you get your information from?” Wicked chuckled, not knowing if she should believe Bruce or not. He could tell some tall tales, and this one was over the top, even for him.
“From Fat Bastard, Boba Fett, and Jango Fett,” Bruce said matter-of-factly as he lounged on the table.
“I’m afraid to ask.” Wicked snorted, refilling her glass of wine with the snap of her fingers. She could use her magic in different ways, by the snap or twirling of her fingers, a wiggle of the nose, and words, which she wasn’t very good at, so she usually stuck with a snap, twirl, or wiggle.
“They’re Zelda’s familiars,” Bruce replied, looking bored. “Wicked, you really need to get out more and meet some peeps. And you know I don’t ever think you’ve expressed your love for me, ever. I’m a little jealous and a bit upset about that.”
Before Wicked could respond with anything other than an eye roll, someone knocked on her door. She was just fine doing what she was doing. It never seemed to go well for her when she was out and about around others. So instead of answering Bruce, she opened her door and was shoved back into the room.
“Who do you think you are?” Porky sneered down at her. “I get my ass chewed because of you, a witch? I don’t fucking think so!”
Wicked was so shocked she just stared up at him from the floor where she had fallen over her own feet after being shoved.
“You think I was rude before, well that was nothing compared to what I’m going to be now.” He reached for her, but before his hand made contact, a ball of fur flew through the air and landed right on Porky’s face.
Hissing, cursing, and screeching echoed around the room. Wicked stood quickly. Her fingertips shot red streaks of angry magic toward the floor. She wasn’t supposed to use her magic on another in anger. She knew this, but this was for her own protection and her familiar’s.
Porky, the Fox, had pulled Bruce away from his face and held him by the scruff of the neck out in front of him. “I’m about to drop-kick your ass into next year.”
Before she could raise her hand, because that sure as hell wasn’t going to happen, a shadow appeared in her doorway.
“Drop him!” Thorne’s voice was not only stern but menacing and dark. “Now!”
Porky did, but his eyes landed on her, and the look he gave her said this wasn’t over. He then turned. “Hey, Thorne.” Porky’s demeanor changed. “I was just coming over to apologize to Wicked.”
Thorne took one step and punched Porky in the face, then grabbed him and pulled him out the door. Wicked scrambled that way, but stopped when Bruce made a pitiful noise.
“Bruce, are you okay?” She went to her knees to check out Bruce, who was limping around.
“I think I need to see the Shifter Wanker,” Bruce whined as he walked and dragged his back leg behind him. “I think I pulled something in my nether region.”
Wicked rolled her eyes. “I think you’ll live.” She sighed as she glanced toward the door. “How did he get here so fast?”
“Who? Thorne?” Bruce continued to walk off his injury. “I called him. You know we can communicate, right?”
“Of course I know that,” Wicked replied. Then again, she hadn’t really thought of Bruce as a Shifter. Was he a Shifter? Holy shit, he had seen her naked. She knew he had, not that she pranced around in front of him like that, but he’d been with her for so long that surely he had. “Are you a Shifter?”
“I’m a familiar,” Bruce started, but then stopped and shook his furry little head. “You know, it’s complicated. I’m hurt, and Thorne is coming back.”
“You’ve seen me naked,” she hissed at him.
“Are we seriously having this conversation after all this time?” Bruce stopped his pitiful play for sympathy. “Believe me when I say... and please don’t take this the wrong way, but yuck!” It sounded like he chucked up a hairball.
“Yuck?” Wicked didn’t know whether to be relieved or offended. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means nasty! It means that in no way am I pervy enough to want to do the nasty with my witch. It would be like wanting to do my sister or Fat Bastard, and that’s a big fuck no!” Bruce continued to hiss, hack, and sputter. “Just no, man! I’d rather have my balls removed, than—”
“That can be arranged!” Wicked glared. “I get it! Sorry, just a thought in the moment of chaos.”
“You have a fucked-up thought process.” Bruce stopped hacking long enough to add that dig in.
“Tell me about it.” Before she could get back to her feet, Thorne came through the door. His eyes were narrowed in anger as he glared down at her.
“Did he hurt you?” His voice was harsh, his face stern as he reached down to help her up.
“Ah, no.” Wicked didn’t want to admit that his touch set her on fire, and she wanted him to touch more than her arms, but she kept that to herself. What was wrong with her? She didn’t act like this. She didn’t want a man, let alone a Shifter, a freaking panther Shifter at that.
“He shoved her to the ground,” Bruce informed him. “And he hurt my nether region or leg. I think I need to see—”
“I’m sorry.” Thorne growled the apology, his golden eyes glowing with rage. “But I promise he will never come near you again.”
“It’s okay,” Wicked said. Obviously it wasn’t okay, and she didn’t even know why she said it was. Seriously, what the hell was wrong with her? “I mean, it’s not okay, and if this is how you run your businesses, I think I need to find somewhere else to rent.”
“Ah, shit, Wicked.” Bruce cut in, pathetically dragging his leg behind him as he made his way toward them. “This isn’t Thorne’s fault. Porky has always been a dick. You can never trust a fox, ya know.”
“Hush, Bruce,” Wicked hissed, glaring at him. “And stop pretending to be hurt. You aren’t going to go see the Shifter Whisper—”
“Wanker,” he corrected.
“Whatever.” Wicked frowned. “You’re fine.”
“You aren’t going anywhere, Wicked,” Thorne said, his eyes still glowing but no longer looking as angry. In fact, it seemed his gorgeous eyes were filled with regret, and that more than anything confused her.
“You have no say in where I go or what I do.” Wicked tilted her chin in a show of defiance.
He leaned closer, taking her chin in his grip and turning her to fully face him. “Oh, but I do.” His voice flowed over her, and for a moment, she believed him.
Chapter 4
Wicked pulled her chin out of his grip
and took a step back. “No, you don’t,” she shot back, realizing she sounded like a five-year-old. Her feelings were so mixed up. One second she wanted to jump in his arms and say, “Yes, you do have a say in my life.” And then she wanted to smack him with a spell to make him go the hell away and leave her alone. He was making her crazy, and she needed no help in that area.
“Listen, I hate to break the mood here, but I gotta go.” Bruce headed toward the door.
“Wait! What?” Wicked looked toward Bruce.
“You don’t think I hang around the house while you’re tattooing late nights, do you?” Bruce snorted as he walked out the room. “I’ve got a life, Wicked. It’s time you got one too. I have a card game I’m late for.”
“Card game?” Wicked said, but Bruce had already left. “You don’t have opposable thumbs!” she shouted after him.
“He and other familiars get together for a card game every Monday night.” Thorne grinned at her perplexed expression. “You usually work late, so I guess you never notice when he slips out.”
Wicked looked back at Thorne, wondering how he knew what her work schedule was. And what in the hell did Bruce mean she needed to get a life? She had a life, thank you very much, and was quite happy with that life. Her appointment tonight canceled, which was why she was home earlier than usual.
“Well, that’s just weird.” Wicked crossed her arms uneasily. Thorne still stood close to her.
“Maybe he’s right.” Thorne cocked his eyebrow at her. “You need to get a life.”
“What is it with everyone in my business? I have a life, which I’m happy living without Shifters and familiars interfering.” She huffed with a frown. “So with that, have a nice evening.” She pointed toward the door, trying to dismiss him without telling him point-blank to get the hell out.
“I’m hungry,” he said, seemingly ignoring her.
“Guess you better go then.” She gave him another less than subtle hint while disregarding his own subtle hint. Dammit, she was getting confused.
“Come on.” He grabbed her hand and headed for the door.
Wicked *itch: Magic and Mayhem Universe Page 2
