Curses!

by J. A. Kazimer

  I raised my eyebrow.

  “Fine,” she huffed. “They deserved it. Did you see what Cross-Stitch was wearing? A knitting needle for a hand. Really? What kind of villain knits?”

  My face reddened. “In some cultures it’s considered an art form.” Just not this one. I took yet another step back. Now we stood a good two feet from each other. I could smell the spicy scent of her pumpkin perfume. It reminded me of all the things I loved about my clearly demented princess. “Listen, we all have our pet peeves.” I smiled. “Knitting is one of yours. I can accept that.”

  She bent her head coyly. “You can’t believe how happy that makes me. Really. But that’s not the point.”

  “Point?” Damn, I hoped her point was the figurative kind and not the kind that ended up piercing my gut with enough force to split a dwarf.

  “The point is,” she smiled, “I’m not the sweet princess you think I am.”

  Duh. The arrow pointed at my chest was a good clue, oh that, and admitting to four murders, not counting Charming’s. ’Cuz if anyone deserved a cursed hand mirror to the chest, it was Prince Rotten.

  “I’ve done some bad things,” she said. Rather than regretful, her tone sounded smug. “Some things about me you might not like.”

  I closed my eyes, my voice wavering. “Princi Gone Wild? Please tell me the pictures are at least tasteful ... and where I can get my hands on some ...”

  Asia laughed. “Not quite.”

  This was my chance to tell her all the things I meant to say earlier today. She started to answer, but I cut her off. “Before you say anything, I want to tell you something. Something I should’ve said a long time ago. This is important, so please, listen closely.”

  Her forehead crinkled with fear, matching the way my bollocks felt with her arrow still aimed at my chest. The temperature in the room suddenly plummeted. I glanced over at the dead rabbi’s bloated body, and then at Charming’s. This day wasn’t turning out at all like I’d expected.

  “Go on,” she said. “I’m all ears.”

  I swallowed. “I love the way you smile and the way you kiss. I love your laugh.”

  “You do, do you?”

  “Yes.” I took another step back. “I love how you squint when you’re angry ... kind of like now.”

  “Is that all you have to say? That you love my laugh, and my kisses, and how my eyes look when you annoy me? Anything else, Mr. Big Bad Villain?”

  “Ummm ...”

  “If you love all that, you’re really going to love the way I shoot this arrow ...” Her finger flexed on the trigger, but the arrow never flew.

  I glanced down at my chest, just to check, and back up at my princess. The squint of her eyes morphed into something else. Sadness? Regret?

  “I love that you tried to protect me.” I winced. “Okay, I’m not thrilled with that part, but I understand. When you ordered me to leave, you had my best interest at heart. I get it.”

  From under a veil of eyelashes Asia looked into my eyes. “I’ve always had your best interest at heart, RJ. You must believe that.”

  “How can I doubt that?” I smiled. “No other woman would have bailed me out of jail after Charming framed me for murdering Natasha. But you not only bailed me out, you believed me when I said I was innocent.”

  “Yeah, about that,” she winced, “Charming didn’t kill your ex-wife.”

  “He didn’t?” I frowned. “Then who did?”

  “I did.”

  Chapter 51

  “You killed Natasha?” I yelled. My mind raced for plausible explanations, but nothing came to mind. Asia wasn’t the jealous type. Self-defense, then. Natasha was a union-trained villain. Maybe she threatened Asia, and Asia reacted like any normal princess would—with an arrow through the heart.

  Or not.

  I shook my head to clear it. “Why, Asia? Why would you kill Natasha? You hardly even knew her.”

  “I had no choice.”

  My eyes narrowed.

  “Really. I didn’t,” she said. “You know as well as I do that when the union gives you a mission, you fulfill it.” She winked. “Or else.”

  “You’re a villain?” I shook my head, unable to comprehend anything, let alone the fact my girlfriend was a card-carrying member of the union.

  She grinned. “Did I forget to mention that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oops.”

  “But why kill Natasha? She was a union gal through and through.” Until she started stealing paper clips from the union supply closet, oh, and then there was that whole forming her own union thing.

  “For the same reason I killed the henchmen at the Tavern.” She grinned. “No one likes a scab,” she said, referring to those villains who worked outside the union. “She was trying to break the union. So I stopped her.”

  “But—”

  “Plus, she annoyed me.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. She annoyed me too.

  “Protecting the union was why Miss Muffet was here, wasn’t it?” Anger boiled inside me. Asia had used me, and not in the “I’ll text you in the morning” kind of way. I felt ... violated. Well, not really. But still. She could’ve told me.

  “No. I asked Miss Muffet to come to Maledetto,” she said. For the first time since I’d burst through the cabin door, Asia looked sheepish. Her bottom lip jutted out in a sexy pout. “I needed Miss Muffet’s help, and so did you.”

  Right. The last thing I needed was that sawed-off curds eater’s help. “What sort of help? Another impotency curse? Maybe a slight case of measles.” I laughed, but then sobered when I noticed a red splotch on my arm. Damn Muffet!

  Asia licked her finger and smeared the bloody splotch from my skin. “I asked Miss Muffet to steal the receipt. The one you found on Missy.”

  “Why?”

  “To protect you.” She took a step toward me. “I feared what would happen if you realized Charming had purchased Gretel. It’s not like you could protect yourself. Not at that time.”

  My ego took the hit fairly well. I managed a stiff nod, while on the inside I cried like a little girl; neither reaction Asia seemed to notice.

  She cleared her throat. “I asked Miss Muffet for another favor too.”

  “For my bollocks in a purse?”

  Asia frowned. “Why would I want that when I’ve already designed a very nice evening bag for them?”

  “Funny.” But I wasn’t laughing. “What other wishes did Muffet grant you? A corner office if you made me look like a fool? Three extra vacation days if I fell in love with you?”

  “RJ—”

  I raised my hand for silence. “Well, I hope your mystery favor keeps you warm at night.” I spun on my heel and dashed from the cabin, bloody footprints and rage in my wake. Asia used me. That villainous bitch. Did she really even care about me, or was it all a lie? A thought that turned me on more than I cared to admit. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Asia was a villain. An evildoer. Just like me. We were two of a malicious kind. My heart beat faster in my chest.

  “RJ,” Asia said, “Wait. Please. I ...”

  I didn’t look back.

  I really should’ve.

  Just as I was about to stop running from what I wanted most, an arrow whistled through the air. My leg exploded with pain. A shaft of a pink arrow protruded from me just above the knee. Rose-colored feathers swirled around me. I dropped to the ground, smashing my head on a rock. Sure, I’d been shot, stabbed, and bludgeoned by the best villains around, but damn it, never by a villainous princess I loved.

  It sucked.

  I grabbed a clump of grass and dragged my arrow-infested body a few inches. A trail of blood followed my torturous path down the cobblestone driveway leading from the cabin. No way in hell would I let Asia win. I was a better villain than that. I inched a few more feet. I’d see my princess in hell, hopefully naked, before she’d get the satisfaction of my surrender.

  “You’re not getting away that easy!” Asia yelled.

&n
bsp; Her second arrow, overkill really, found its mark a few seconds later. The shaft managed to penetrate the palm of my hand without injuring a single tendon. Pain rocketed through my hand, and then my leg, before both went numb. A blessing, really, since the feeling in my heart intensified to nearly apocalyptic levels. Maybe my princess did love me just a little bit? Why bother shooting me, twice, if she didn’t truly care?

  With my uninjured hand, I wiped the blood out of my eyes and glanced up at the princess making her way down the cabin steps. The sunlight shimmered off her fiery hair, and a smile hovered on her lips. She was so beautiful. Demented and dangerous, sure, but gorgeous. She was everything I could ever want. My perfect villainous fit.

  “Nice shot,” I said.

  “I was aiming for your head,” came her reply.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yes, you are,” she said.

  I grinned. Asia helped me to my feet, carefully avoiding the arrows protruding from various part of my body. I grabbed her hand and pulled her close to whisper, “I love you.”

  Her sigh echoed around the forest. “I know.”

  “Good.” I smacked her butt. “But let’s not spread it around. I have a reputation to keep.”

  Chapter 52

  Two weeks later, I awoke to the smell of freshly assaulted eggs, spicy pancakes, and ground coffee. I glanced around, happy to see my old apartment again. My Pamela Hans Christian Andersen poster still hung above the bed, as did a newly framed picture of my not-so-ugly princess. In the photograph she wore a white wedding gown stained with rusty brown spots and a big smile.

  I grinned, fingering the much-too-tight gold band around my own finger. “So you can never get it off,” Asia said during our vows. To which I replied, “I think I’m going to pass out.”

  It was a beautiful ceremony, or so I’m told. I don’t remember much of it. Blood loss does that to you. However, I remember every second of our honeymoon. Fat or skinny, Asia knew all the right moves. She had me begging for mercy by ten o’clock and out cold every night before midnight.

  Except for the final night of our honeymoon, that night we made love for eight hours straight. “I love you,” I whispered as we floated in that special place between orgasm and sleep.

  “Back at you,” she said with a loud yawn.

  Exhausted, I fell into a deep sleep, my arms wrapped around my amazing wife. The woman I loved and trusted above all else. Until eighteen minutes later, when for some inexplicable reason, I awoke at 12:09 A.M. My wife was gone, replaced with what appeared to be a lumpy round object. I flicked on the light, shocked to find my arms around a large pumpkin, a very familiar large round pumpkin with freckles, to be precise.

  “Asia?” I tapped the vegetable.

  No answer.

  “Sweet dreams, love.” I turned off the lamp and went back to sleep. I must admit, spooning with a gourd wasn’t as bad as one might expect.

  The next morning, I woke up at dawn, Asia’s slim body back in my arms. I shrugged and nuzzled the back of her neck.

  “Morning,” she said.

  I lifted myself up on my elbows, staring down at her freckled face. “Morning, pumpkin.”

  The corner of her lip tilted up. “About that ...”

  That was one week ago.

  One week since Asia explained about yet another curse, this one involving a pissed-off fruit vendor and a magic bag of beans. Asia, in her original cursed state, had gobbled the magic beans, leaving the fruity warlock angry enough to turn my precious princess into a part-time pumpkin.

  The only cure, Asia said, was a giant’s toenail, but not just any giant, the Jolly Green one himself. I’d nodded and flipped on QVC. Where else could one find super-sized toenail clippers at half price?

  The doorbell rang, dragging me from my memories and my warm bed. I stumbled to my feet, tripping over the fresh de Wolfe pelt rug on my floor. A gift from the king. I shivered as Prince Charming’s dead eyes followed me across the room. The doorbell rang again. I limped down the hallway to the front door.

  “Coming,” I said, pulling to a stop in front of the door. I opened it, expecting to see a Fey-Ex driver and a super-large pair of toenail clippers. Instead, the doorway was empty with the exception of a large envelope. I picked it up and gave it a halfhearted shake. No ticking sound. A good sign.

  I checked the return address. One Union Plaza, New Never City. Damn. Another rejection letter for reinstatement from the union. I tore it in half and then in half again. Then I tossed the paper chunks into the air. They swirled around, finally falling like confetti across the carpet.

  “You shouldn’t litter,” Miss Muffet said from behind my kitchen door. A cupboard door opened and closed. Silverware rattled. I swallowed a rush of fear and poked my head inside the kitchen. Asia was nowhere in sight, but Miss Muffet stood at the kitchen counter, a step stool underneath her ruby red slippers. What the hell was she doing here? And where was my wife?

  “Nice shoes,” I said for lack of anything better to say.

  Miss Muffet smiled. “Won them in a poker game. That Dorothy can’t bluff worth a damn.”

  “Not being inhospitable or anything,” I lied, “but what the fudge are you doing in my kitchen?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I’m making breakfast.”

  “I see.”

  “Every villain needs a healthy start.”

  Was this Miss Muffet’s way of apologizing for my impotency leave? Or for kicking my ass a couple of weeks ago? Was she finally going to reinstate me to active villain status?

  I hoped so. This nice thing was getting out of hand. Asia took advantage of me at every opportunity. In fact, last night, by her request, I gave her a foot massage, then made dinner and love to her while wearing an elf’s cap.

  No way for a villain to live.

  Miss Muffet motioned to the table. I took a seat, wondering again where my princess had gone. Since our wedding, I ate every meal with her, mostly out of fear she’d try to poison me.

  Like mother, like daughter.

  I glanced down at the spread in front of me. My stomach rumbled in hunger. Miss Muffet had outdone herself. Piles of fluffy eggs, smoked sausage, and pancakes filled the table. A glass of milk sat next to my plate. I felt like a kid again, which made me all the more suspicious. Why was she being so damn nice? Was this the favor Asia requested from Miss Muffet? Be nice to me until it drove me absolutely insane?

  “Try the pancakes,” Miss Muffet said, shoveling a smiling pair onto my plate. Chocolate chip eyes dotted the pancake and a swirl of whipped cream from a can acted as a pancake mouth. The smell of fresh spicy batter rose up, tickling my nostrils with delight.

  My stomach growled. I drizzled them with syrup and forked up a mouthful. “Thanks. Asia’s not much of a cook.” I grinned. “But she is a whiz with an egg.”

  “So I hear.”

  I swallowed the pancake. The warm, gooey goodness pleasured my taste buds, making my body hum with delight.

  Wait a minute!

  I spat the pancake out. It hit the kitchen wall with a wet splat. “What kind of pancakes are these?” I yelped, kicking back my chair and wiping my tongue with a napkin.

  “Pumpkin, of course.” Miss Muffet smiled, gesturing to the hollow pumpkin husk on the counter. A freckled pumpkin husk!

  “No!” I screamed, running to the counter to cradle the pumpkin Asia tenderly into my arms. “How could you?” I demanded of Miss Muffet.

  Her forehead creased. “How could I what, dear?”

  That was it!

  I stormed across the room and smashed the pumpkin shell across Muffet’s curly blond head. She flipped off her chair, landing in a crumpled pile on the floor. She lay still, her neck at an odd angle.

  I gazed down at the mashed pumpkin pieces in my hands and began to cry. Big, fat, girly tears. The pain in my heart intensified with each passing second. All our dreams were gone, disappeared in an instant of gluttony and pie spice. I’d eaten my wife! What kind of man could do such a
thing? I was hungry, sure, but that didn’t change the horror of what I’d done. I closed my eyes and cried.

  “What did you do?” Asia’s voice swirled around my head.

  My eyes popped open. Non-pumpkin Asia stood in front of me, a look of absolute horror on her face as she glanced down at Miss Muffet’s broken body. Pumpkin seeds stuck to her new red ribbon slippers.

  “Asia?” I slowly rose from my chair. “Is that really you?”

  “Who’d you think it was?” She frowned at me and then at Miss Muffet’s body. “Oh, RJ, what did you do?”

  “I thought ... see, Miss Muffet ... ,” I stammered. What could I say? I’d bludgeoned my boss to death with a pumpkin I believed to be my wife. Hell, even my part-time pumpkin of a wife wouldn’t understand.

  On the plus side, my impotency curse was finally broken. Muffetmurder all but guaranteed that. And now there was an opening for a Villainous VP. Killing the former VP in a fit of pumpkin-splattered rage showed initiative, right?

  Asia grabbed a mop from the kitchen pantry. “Get mopping. I’ll hide the body.”

  I grinned. “No.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t have to follow orders anymore.” I nodded at her shocked look. “My impotency is over. I am one hundred percent villain again. Thank God.”

  Asia bit her lip.

  “I know, baby. It’s a miracle.”

  “Yeah, about that,” she began.

  “No.” I shook my head. “Don’t tell me.”

  From the floor, Miss Muffet let out a loud groan and slowly staggered to her pumpkin-coated feet.

  I frowned.

  She tapped her head. “Metal plate, you dolt. I’ve taken harder hits to the head from a three-year-old.”

  Oops. I considered smacking her again, but ultimately decided against it, seeing as Asia stood within brain splatter range.

  But Miss Muffet was far from finished. “You’re not cursed, either. The union reinstated you weeks ago.”

  “What!?”

  Muffet smiled, a sure sign I wouldn’t like what she said next. “Oh, yes. Every little good deed you’ve done since you and she went to the kingdom was all on your own.”