Magic and Mayhem: Thor and Peace (Kindle Worlds Novella) (A Stacy Justice Mystery Novella (3) Book 0)

by Barbra Annino

  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.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  DEDICATION

  For my Boys

  Other Titles In This Series

  Opal Fire: Stacy Justice Book One

  Bloodstone: Stacy Justice Book Two

  Tiger’s Eye: Stacy Justice Book Three

  Emerald Isle: Stacy Justice Book Four

  Obsidian Curse: Stacy Justice Book Five

  Phantom Quartz: Stacy Justice Book Six

  Witch Way to Amethyst: The Stacy Justice Prequel – FREE!

  Geraghty Girls Recipes: A Companion to the Stacy Justice Series

  Deadly Diamonds: Stacy Justice Novella

  Witches Be Crazy: A Stacy Justice Magic and Mayhem Novella

  Other Titles By Barbra Annino

  Sin City Goddess: Secret Goddess Book One

  The Bitches of Everafter: A Dark Princess Fairy Tale, Book 1

  The Bitches of Enchantment: A Dark Princess Fairy Tale, Book 2

  Anthologies and Shorter Works

  Gnome Wars

  My Guardian Idiot

  A Tale of Three Witches

  Every Witch Way But Wicked

  The Graveyard Witch

  Stained

  Cupid’s Arrow

  Naughty or Nice

  Description

  When a string of familiars goes missing, it’s up to Thor--a giant Great Dane and familiar to the Seeker of Justice--to find them before it’s too late.

  ~ONE~

  Saturday night was date night and Thor didn’t mind being away from his witch, so long as she was with someone he trusted. Tonight, her mate, Chance, had taken her to some fancy restaurant a few towns over where you needed to call ahead and reserve a spot because apparently food was scarce in that town. Or something. They served stinky fish and tart lemons on shiny plates with gold trim alongside fancy silverware that seemed absurdly unnecessary. He knew this because he followed them once, just to be sure no one was lurking in the shadows with ill intent. (His witch was forever in peril.) Thor preferred his fish straight out of the river. It was fresher that way and all the good stuff like the skin, bones and tail were still there when you caught it and he liked to rip through the flesh right there on the banks of Amethyst. Yum. However, Stacy seemed to enjoy her fish on top of a silly white tablecloth beneath a dripping candle, so he didn’t judge. Whatever made her happy made Thor happy.

  Humans. They could be so complicated. Right down to their scents.

  Thor lumbered off the couch and stretched his massive 180 pound frame. Stacy had thoughtfully left the new television box on for him and he decided to take in a show on Animal Planet. It was a documentary about the mating habits of fruit bats. Thor preferred those kinds of peaceful programs. Where the content consisted mostly of scientific information of a species rather than blood and gore and carnage. He had had enough violence in his lifetime before he ever came to Amethyst. Before he ever accepted this assignment. He didn’t like it in his entertainment. Truth be told, it was still a major theme in their lives. Being a familiar was no easy business. But being a familiar to the Seeker of Justice—the one who holds all the secrets not only to the treasures of the world, but to Witchkind—was a treacherous job at best.

  And at worse—it could be deadly.

  But Thor had never been one to back down from a challenge. And this witch needed him. More than any other.

  The Great Dane gave his body a quick shake, cascading bits of tan fur onto the white carpet. Then he nosed the off button on the remote, and slapped the back door open with his mighty paw, headed out for his weekly jaunt.

  He did a steady scan of the perimeter, nose high in the sky, ears perked to attention, as the sun hung there just below the trees about to say goodnight. The air in the Midwestern town of Amethyst was crisp this evening and Thor welcomed it. The oppressive heat of summer and the biting cold of winter could hinder a dog’s senses. When a familiar was more preoccupied with carnal needs like comfortable temperatures and hunger—when he wasn’t completely focused on his duties—there were casualties.

  And Thor wasn’t about to let that happen again. So long as there was breath in his body, he would protect his human. Even if he had to kill for her.

  He decided to start his evening with a run through the woods. There was no exercise more exhilarating or challenging. The unpredictable terrain, the endless smells, the varied residents he would encounter along the way, all proved to be an intense, full-body workout for the big Dane and he liked to keep his muscles and his mind sharp and ready for battle. He was, after all, a warrior at heart. Although, he preferred to think of himself as an easy-going, lovable guy. With really big canines.

  The tiny cottage where Thor resided with his witch was set back from a huge, colorful main house. That was where his witch’s pack lived. Whenever Thor was headed out for the evening, he made it a point to stop in and check on the elders first. They were a vivacious trio, with hair various shades of roses, grassy-hued eyes and spunk that would make even the most daring wolf pause. Plus, they always smelled of something delicious like cinnamon rolls or honeyed ham. Thor loved them all, especially Fiona, who wasn’t the matriarch, but she had an amazing way of communicating with animals, himself included, and Thor admired that.

  The house was forever occupied by a stream of strangers who paid them money for the privilege of a warm bed and a hot meal. Thor didn’t approve of this security breach, but they were witches in their own right and had the place sufficiently warded with protection spells, herbs and crystals. They were a tough bunch, the Geraghty Girls, and they had always protected his witch, even when she didn’t want them to. But that’s what families did, he supposed. He was happy to be a part of their tribe.

  Thor loved old witchery. It reminded him of puppyhood.

  A buttery light shone through the back door of the big house where he could see Fiona gliding around the kitchen, her hair wrapped in a neat bun, apron fluttering around her tanned legs. He could smell fruit, spices, cheese and something sweet and meaty. Ribs perhaps? Thor never met a bone he didn’t like.

  He tapped the door with his nose and his witch’s great aunt tilted her head toward the sound. Her smile shamed the sun itself as she unlocked the door and swung it open.

  “Well, hello, Thor. How are you today, Big Man?” She cooed. Thor loved her voice. It was reminiscent of a cardinal’s song. Fiona leaned forward and a hint of jasmine tickled his nose. She scratched his ear with her long nails, sending his tail into a frenzy that knocked over a vase full of rosemary.

  He glanced at her and grumbled an apology.

  Fiona laughed. “No bother, dear.” She collected the vase and the herbs and mopped up the water just as her sister, Lolly, swung through the kitchen door.

  Thor had once known a Pekingese who’s witch dressed her up in tu-tu’s and tiaras, painted her nails every color under the rainbow and forced her to wear ribbons in her fur. No matter how often or how viciously the dog protested, the witch persisted. This was humiliating for such an esteemed breed, nicknamed “lion dog” because of their resemblance to t
he great beast. Eventually, the poor thing lost her marbles and began chasing her tail incessantly and meowing like a cat. She was re-assigned to a nice family in Topeka. Lolly reminded Thor of that dog.

  She smiled when she saw him and Thor could smell the whiskey on her breath. He relaxed at this bit of information because Lolly had a few marbles unaccounted for herself and the elixir seemed to keep them in alignment. It wasn’t that Thor minded her antics so much as her desire to dress him up in the most ridiculous ensembles. The last costume she made for him was a matador’s. It was buried in the backyard.

  “Hello, Thor. Have you had supper yet? I made a rib roast,” Lolly said.

  Thor could always eat so he sat, indicating he wouldn’t turn down the offer.

  Lolly carved off a hunk of meat and nestled a few potatoes beside it, then plated it and set it on the apothecary island.

  Thor sauntered over to his snack and dug into the deliciousness, savoring the hickory barbecue sauce and buttery potatoes. MMMM. Nothing like a home cooked meal.

  Birdie came down the back stairwell and said, “Lolly, you know you’re not supposed to feed that dog at the table.”

  Thor glanced up, assessing the situation. He could feel a trickle of sauce stuck to his whiskers. Should he continue eating? He certainly didn’t want to be a source of contention.

  Lolly rolled her eyes at her younger sister who patted Thor on the rump. He took that as a sign to finish the meal, so he stuck his head back to the plate.

  Birdie asked, “Is Stacy here?”

  At the sound of his witch’s name, Thor glanced up, perked his ears. Birdie was frowning. He sniffed the air around her. There was something off about her scent. She was tense. Worried.

  Was something wrong with his witch?

  Fiona poured Thor a bowl of water and set it in front of him. “No. She’s on a date with Chance. She said she may spend the night at his place. Why?”

  Birdie moved to the back door, gazing out at the night sky. “Look.” She pointed.

  The Geraghty Girls all crowded around the glass, blocking Thor’s view. He drank some water to cleanse his palette and wiped his face on Fiona’s apron. He tried to heighten his senses, but all he could smell was his meal and all he could hear was the wind.

  Fiona cocked her head at him. Then she lifted his chin and they were nose to nose. The poised witch stared steadily into his eyes, seeing something there that gave her pause. She turned back to look out the window again.

  Birdie asked, “What do you think it means, Fiona?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ll have to consult the Blessed Book.”

  Thor knew that was the personal bible of the Geraghty clan. He thought, Is my witch in danger? Because if she was, he couldn’t sense it. He had received no signs. And that wasn’t normal. Maybe he was off his game. He needed a wild run in the forest to energize his radar.

  Fiona smiled at Thor. “Not to worry, darling. Your witch is fine.” Her eyes flicked away. To Lolly, she said, “Have you finished sewing Thor’s new—“

  As soon as he heard those words, he tried to bolt out the door, but Birdie blocked his path. Frantically, the Big Man searched for an escape route. He wasn’t about to wear another stupid outfit. He didn’t want to end up like the Pekingese. He didn’t even know where the hell Topeka was!

  He dashed for the window, thinking he could clear it, but Lolly got there before him.

  Damn, these women were fast!

  A steady panic rose in Thor’s chest and he hated himself for it, but a man could only take so much. Even if he was a dog. For Odin’s sake, he was a soldier, dammit! It was undignified to wear lederhosen or whatever the hell Lolly had created for him.

  Lolly said, “Calm down, Thor, it’s just a collar.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her, took a step back. It was a trick, he was sure of it.

  Birdie stepped forward. “That’s right. Now pull yourself together, Familiar. It’s not noble to be frightened of three old ladies.”

  Oh, but they were crafty ones. He had to hand it to them. He inched toward the door that fed to the front of the house.

  “We wanted you to be protected and of course, a regal Dane such as yourself cannot go parading around town in a ratty old collar,” Fiona said.

  He didn’t hesitate. He just charged. He would have made it too, if it wasn’t for the potion she blew in his face.

  For a moment, just before sleep claimed him, Thor thought he understood what it must feel like to be Stacy.

  He awoke in a darkened room to the sound of crickets. Thor hauled himself to his feet feeling a bit heavier and hungrier. In fact, he was starving. His eyes quickly adjusted and he realized he was still in the Geraghty kitchen. The back door was wide open and he was about to let himself out when he realized there was indeed a new collar around his neck.

  He sauntered over to the dishwasher and gazed at his reflection in the stainless steel.

  It was a thick, black leather number with gold stitching. His original tiger’s eye, given to him by his witch and their source of connectivity, hung from the silver tag ring. There were other gemstones sewn into the piece as well. Most he couldn’t identify. He turned and noted ancient runes and sigils etched into the fabric. There were two zippered pouches as well and along the top, on the back of his neck, several badass looking spikes that could rip flesh. Thor sat, admiring his new bling. Behind him, he smelled jasmine, whiskey, and victory. He turned to see the three Geraghtys standing in the doorway.

  “We knew you’d like it,” Fiona said with a giggle.

  “It suits you,” said Birdie.

  Lolly just grinned in triumph.

  Thor tossed them a collective look that he hoped indicated how betrayed and irritated he felt. Then he stalked to the open door, pausing only to leave them a whiff of his earlier snack, and headed towards the woods.

  ~TWO~

  Thor thundered along his favorite trail in the woods behind the Geraghty house. The damp earth and wet leaves of the forest squished between his toes and he felt a rush of freedom as the pine ruffled his fur and the branches bent to his will. Out here, in the wild, he answered to no one, belonged to nothing. It was a primal, instinctive sensation that he believed every familiar should revisit now and then, lest he or she forget their innate wildness. Because that was what made them worthy of their positions. The ability to fight when the call came. To protect their witches, no matter what.

  It wasn’t that Thor felt human life was more important than any other species. It was simply that he saw the bigger picture. There was good and there was evil in this world. He had always been on the right side of that line and he was damned proud to have a witch who was too. Because not all of them were good. Some, he knew from experience, could be downright wicked.

  But not his Stacy. She was pure gold and he loved her more than he loved cheeseburgers and she gave it back tenfold. A mutual respect, one might say.

  Thor slowed to a trot and took a deep breath.

  If only people weren’t always trying to kill her.

  He thought about his last assignment in the field. The one that nearly got him killed. Nearly got them all killed. He shuddered. It was after that, after Lucy died and his heart was shattered, that Thor decided he needed a change of scenery.

  That decision brought him here, to the old, quiet, touristy town of Amethyst, Illinois. Or so he had thought. Little did he know what was in store for him here.

  Then again, that was probably the plan all along, wasn’t it? His boss hadn’t wanted him to leave. Tried to talk him into staying with the team, but didn’t put up much of a fight now that he thought of it. Hmm. He wondered.

  To his left, Thor heard soft sobs coming from beneath the brush. He nosed his snout through the brambles and found Daisy, a white-tailed doe, curled up on the forest floor. Her saucer eyes glistened with tears and her wide chest heaved up and down.

  “Daisy, what is it?” Thor asked.

  She blink
ed up at him. “Oh, Thor,” she sobbed. “It’s Eli. I can’t seem to find him anywhere.”

  “There, now. Don’t cry. We’ll find him.”

  Thor scanned the thicket of trees, searching for a hint of movement. He perked his ears, listening for the slightest rustle. When he heard none, he looked up. That’s when he noticed something strange.

  Daisy’s big brown eyes followed Thor’s amber gaze.

  “Oh!” She cried.

  Crows. Dozens of them. Circling overhead. Except they weren’t making a sound.

  Thor didn’t know a lot about signs or omens or any of that other nonsense that was supposed to mean something. But he knew about actions. And the big black birds were definitely flying into some kind of formation.

  But what did it mean?

  He shook his head, activating his tiger’s eye, and listened for a signal from his witch. Some inkling of distress. None came.

  Daisy said, “They’re swarming the moon. What do you think they’re doing?” She rose to her feet, shivering ever so slightly.

  Thor had no idea. In fact, the only one who would know was his beloved Lucy. And maybe his witch—wait a second.

  He cocked his head skyward. Was this what Birdie had seen out the window? If it was, that meant even the most intuitive animal communicator he knew—Fiona—didn’t know what the crows were telling them.

  Thor heard the bushes jumble and positioned himself in front of Daisy, teeth at the ready, just as a round fuzzy thing emerged.

  “Whoa, whoa, easy there big guy.” The groundhog put out his stout arms. “I come in peace.” His voice was scratchy and he smelled as if he had been rolling around in wild onions. Daisy sneezed.

  Thor relaxed his stance and cracked his neck. “Dammit, Jerry, don’t sneak up on me like that.”

  “Sorry, Boss.” Jerry said. He always called Thor boss. It was irritating. Jerry thumbed behind him. “Listen, uh, we seem to have a situation here in the woods. We was wonderin’ if you could help.”