* * *
Immie appeared in a kitchen, one she recognized immediately. The three fat cats on the table playing poker, however, were new. One had a cigar sticking out of his mouth. Oh, right. Those were Zelda’s familiars.
Crap. How the hell had she zapped herself to Zelda’s house?
The cats stared at her, their expressions all kinds of guilty.
“Excuse me,” she said.
In the next second, the cats and the cards had disappeared, leaving only the hint of cigar smoke in their wake.
Zelda, of course, took that moment to stride into the kitchen. She immediately lifted her nose and drew in a breath. Her accusatory stare landed on Immie. “Seriously. I never figured you for a smoker. And in my house?”
“It wasn’t me,” she said. “And I’m not supposed to be here.”
“No, shit.” Zelda glared at her. “What do you want? Is there another vengeful troll to kill? Or did you have another infestation of zombie bunnies?” Zelda put her hands on her hips. “Why don’t you ever pop in when you have good news? I mean, I could do coffee and cake, you know.”
Immie blinked at her. “You do that?”
“No,” said Zelda. “But I could.”
“Can I just apologize and try to zap out of here?”
“Well, your translocation spells aren’t getting any better,” she said. “So maybe I should help you. Where are you trying to go?” She spun her finger and magic swirled.
“I didn’t intend to leave Wild,” answered Immie. “I was trying to get to Lavender Greengrass’s house.”
Zelda stopped mid-zap. “Why the holyfucknuts would you want to go there?”
“You know Lavender Greengrass?”
“I know of her … everyone knows of her. Do you know it’s rumored she started the Irish potato famine? Some witches say she was responsible for the Black Plague. I even heard that whole Egyptian locust thing was on her, too.”
“Are you serious?” asked Immie. She was cynical about assigning that much chaos in human history to one fae. “C’mon. There’s no way she did all of that.”
“That’s not the point. The real point is she’s destructive enough that everyone believes she’s capable of that crap—and Goddess knows what else.”
Immie couldn’t help but think poor Lavender was getting a bad rap because of a few minor mishaps here and there. She knew too well the harshness of judgments rendered on innocents. She could name a hundred instances where Dorcas had left her in the middle of some disaster the ghost created. But Immie was always there for the blame—and the subsequent cleanup.
“I’ll take my chances,” she told Zelda. “And I’d appreciate the help to get there.”
“Fine,” said Zelda. “It’s your funeral.”
Chapter Five
As Caulder turned around to view the creature that had apparently hitched a ride on him, Lavender joined him on the porch. “How did he do that?” he asked.
“He’s a demon,” said Lavender. “A mean, sulky, soul-eating demon.”
“I don’t eat souls,” said the scaly red being getting to his feet. He was a walking cliché of a demon—cloven feet, pitchforked tail, sharp curved horns. However, as he slowly stood, he transformed into a tall, lanky gentleman dressed in tailored Armani. His hair was slicked back and his eyes, still a terrifying red, were empty—except for the tiny flames burning in the irises. “Give me the vampire, Lavender.”
“No.”
The man rolled his eyes. “You are always so difficult.” He smiled, but the gesture was neither reassuring nor kind. “What’s your deal with the werecougar? The pheromones between you two are enough to choke an elephant.”
“That’s a stupid analogy. What’s between Caulder and I is none of your beeswax.”
“Really? Because you need my permission to marry.”
“We’ve only known each other for less than five minutes,” interrupted Caulder. He glanced at Lavender. “Not that I wouldn’t marry you. I totally would.”
“Aw.” Lavender beamed at him, and his heart nearly exploded from all the tenderness she inspired. He wanted to rub her feet. And pour her a bubble bath. And go shopping with her.
Caulder inhaled a sharp breath. Whoa. Was that mate thinking, or what?
“Ferth is my cousin,” said Lavender apologetically. “I don’t need his permission to do anything. He thinks he’s the shit. It’s so annoying.”
“I am the shit.” Ferth moved toward the porch, but Lavender put up her hand.
“One step further and I will make sure your scales fall off and never grow back.”
He snorted and dared another step.
“And your hair. All of it.” She bared her teeth at him. “From everywhere.”
Ferth looked unconvinced. Caulder’s protective urges encouraged him to eviscerate the demon. And he would gladly kill the asshole to prevent him from bothering Lavender ever again. He offered a warning growl. “She might remove your hair,” he said, “but I’ll remove your entrails.”
“You’re so sweet,” said Lavender, patting his arm. “Thank you.”
The idea of facing both his cousin and a Shifter appeared to stop Ferth in his tracks. He pulled at the cuffs of his shirt, obviously pretending that he’d made the decision to go no further. “You missed Demonsgiving again.”
“I miss it every year,” said Lavender.
“Well, maybe you should’ve come this year. Father announced he’s retiring. I’ll be the leader of the Darklight legion soon.”
“Hooray. New asshole, same legion.”
“So, you can understand,” he continued as though Lavender hadn’t said anything, “how my grandmother marrying a vampire—an old, decrepit vampire—might make me seem weak.”
“Yeah. Because Grandmother is all about your happiness, you selfish, arrogant, mealy-mouthed prick.”
Caulder watched in amazement as Lavender’s gossamer wings turned leathery black and horns—pink, of course—sprouted from her head. Her glittery purple nails curved into sharp claws. She advanced to the edge of the porch, lifting her hands. Black and purple fire danced along the tips of her claws.
His heart backflipped in his chest. Holy damn. She was magnificent.
“Now, Lavender,” said Ferth, hastily backing away. “There’s no need to get upset.”
“Upset!” Her Irish lilt was gone, replaced by an echoing growl that sent shivers right through Caulder.
Goddess above. He utterly adored her. Her warrior strength. Her take-no-shit attitude. Her dark beauty.
She was the perfect woman.
Er, demon.
Um, fae?
“Did you tell loverboy you stole one of his memories?” shouted Ferth.
Lavender hesitated. Her demon form receded, but not her temper. “Leave. Now.”
Ferth scrambled away and then, in a poof of black sulfur smoke, he disappeared.
“What did he mean? You stole my memory?”
Lavender walked to the door and opened it. “You should come inside for some tea.” She looked at him, her expression apologetic. “And an explanation.”
* * *
“You have to talk to her,” demanded Ferth.
Begonia Darklight looked up from her cross-stitch and peered at her grandson through the jagged rock bars of her cell. Everything in hell was made from the strange substance, a color of red no mortal eyes had seen. She knew the cells in this particular dungeon had been made long before her dead husband’s grandfather had taken over the Darklight rulership. And demons typically lived a long time. She also knew none of her powers would work so long as she was trapped inside here.
“Grandmother!”
Begonia sighed. “You do know you’ve imprisoned me, your own flesh-and-brimstone, and tried to kill my fiancé, right? Besides, once Lavender takes on a cause, she’ll never walk away. You know this.”
“You know it, too,” accused Ferth. “That’s why you sent the old geezer to her.”
“Why are you such
a dick?” Begonia rose to her feet. “Your father wasn’t nearly this much trouble.”
“But my aunt was,” said Ferth, his gaze malicious. “And that’s why we have a Halfling muddying up the Darklight bloodline.”
“Would you get over yourself already? Lavender doesn’t want your crown. I don’t know why you have to be such an asswipe. All I want to do is marry my man and live in a senior citizen nudist colony.”
Ferth shuddered. “Gross.”
Begonia stood and handed the cross-stitched piece to him. “Hang this up in your room, will you?”
There was a little red crown at the top. Underneath it said: “Stay Calm and Go Fuck Yourself.”
* * *
“Who’s this guy?” asked Raymond as he stumbled into the drawing room. His gray hair stuck up and his face was creased—likely where he’d slept on a crumpled pillow. He wore his black silk pajamas. Lavender thought he looked adorable.
She’d made sure the thick velvet curtains were drawn against the sunlight. The small room that she called “Magnificent Skullery” was painted blood red and displayed an eclectic collection of art that featured skulls, grim reapers, and creatures in the throes of death.
The mantle was a glossy black, and she had candles of varying sizes lined across it. The flames flickered in the otherwise dark room, making it delightfully spooky.
“I’m sorry to wake you up,” said Lavender. “But I’m afraid it’s necessary. This is Caulder. He says you’re his vampire.”
“I’m not his vampire,” said Raymond grumpily. He peered at Caulder. “Oh. You’re Lissa’s brother. The cranky asshole we visited once. Did you do anything to spruce that cabin of yours? I’ve seen prison cells with more pizzazz.”
“Nice to see you, too,” said Caulder. “Lissa had the triplets, so she can’t be your—er, companion for a while.”
“Triplets, huh? Wow,” said Raymond as he settled into one of the tall-backed chairs. “No offense. But you’re not exactly on the top of my socializing list. Besides, I don’t need a babysitter. I’m getting married.”
Caulder’s eyes widened. Lavender reached over and patted his leg reassuringly. “It’s part of the long story.” She turned her gaze to the vampire. “Would you mind fixing us tea?” she asked.
“I don’t know how to fix tea. Why the hell would you ask me that? You keep forgetting I’m a vampire.”
“Raymond,” said Lavender, her teeth flashing. “Go make tea.”
He straightened. “Okay, okay. Sheesh.” He got up and shuffled out of the room, muttering, “She’ s just as bossy as that grandmother of hers.”
Lavender sucked in a breath. A breath that included the just-baked cherry-tart scent she associated with Caulder. She noticed it first in the early dawn and astral projected to follow it…right to the werecougar lounging in the tree.
She couldn’t help but be drawn into his memory—and the pain it caused him was so great, she removed it from him. That might’ve been the wrong action. After all, she didn’t have the right to interfere with another’s mind.
Even that of her mate.
Oh, she knew all about the Mating Scent that happened with Shifters. She knew Caulder would believe she was his, and she had to disabuse him of that notion. She was half fae, half demon, and all trouble. She couldn’t burden him with her crazy. It wasn’t exactly her fault that evil sometimes spilled out of her and created chaos. That was the nature of being a demon. But she didn’t have to force that existence on someone else.
And that was why she kept the sunshine on 24/7 and tried to think positive thoughts and create as much good as she could in her own little space. She couldn’t risk even the littlest bit of demon eking out from her.
Still, Lavender had to admit she very much appreciated Caulder’s acceptance of her other form. She hadn’t transformed completely, but even so, he hadn’t flinched. In fact, he offered to tear out Ferth’s guts for her—and she found that very endearing.
Caulder was also gorgeous with sandy blonde hair and eyes the color of the Aegean Sea and oh, my Goddess—the muscles! The attraction was certainly there. And she deeply regretted not being able to explore the mating issue with him.
“I know you—and me—have experienced the Mating Scent. That’s a true and special bond.”
“Yes,” said Caulder. “I never thought I’d have a mate. And yet—here you are.”
She smiled sadly at him. “We need to break-up.”
Chapter Six
Immie appeared in some place that was not Lavender Greengrass’s property. Even with Zelda’s help she’d managed to end up—wherever this was. So, what? A cave? Yep. And it was a very strange cave, too. Flickering light emitted without any discernable source. The rock was the color of burnt offerings and blood sacrifices.
She shuddered.
“What’s a witch doing in hell?”
The female voice startled Immie. She whirled around and saw a lovely older woman in an ivory dress, almost wedding-like, except for the singe marks and red spatters. Her hosiery was torn and her shoes missing. She wore pearls at her throat and ears, and other than being behind bars, she looked like someone’s genteel Southern grandma.
“Well?”
“I don’t know,” said Immie. “I was trying to get back to Wild, Texas.” She moved closer to the prison cell. “Why are you in hell?”
“I used to live here,” said the woman. “Demon, you know. But I moved topside years ago. In fact, I was getting married—at least until my grandson threw a temper tantrum about it. Ungrateful whelp. Threw me in here and wants to kill my fiancé.” She smiled. “I’m Begonia Darklight, by the way. And you are?”
“Imogene Cotton.” Immie realized showing up in here might not exactly be a coincidence. “I was trying to warn my friend about a piggybacking demon.” Immie grabbed at a bar and yanked hard. “How do I get you out of here?”
“Sorry, honey. Only a demon can open this cell. But maybe you can get my granddaughter. She lives in Wild, too. Her name is Lavender Greengrass.”
Immie stared at her, open-mouthed. “You’re shitting me.”
“Why would I do that?”
“It’s just—I’ve been trying to get to her place all morning. That’s where Caulder was supposed to pick up his vampire.”
“You mean, this Caulder person was sent to get Raymond?” Her voice rose in panic.
Immie sought to reassure Begonia. “He’s just trying to get him back home, that’s all. He’s a nice guy, I promise. I take it Raymond is your fiancé?” Well, getting married sure explained Raymond’s disappearance and Begonia’s zapping him to Lavender’s house was how he ended up in Wild.
“I sent him to Lavender because I knew she’d protect him. I have no doubt my grandson Ferth was the one attached to your friend.”
Okay. Now, Immie was on two rescue missions—and from the same demon. She’d come to expect her life in Wild to be … um, interesting. But even for Wild, this situation was way, way weird.
“Sweetie, you can’t translocate directly onto Lavender’s property. She has protections against that. Might be why you’re bouncing around. You’ll have to poof close to her house and walk to the door.”
“Good to know.” Immie drew in a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll get her. Hang tight.”
Begonia gave her a thumbs-up. “Good luck.”
* * *
“I’m not breaking up with you,” said Caulder. “Especially since I haven’t actually gotten to date you.”
He looked at his mate, his beautiful fierce mate, and saw that Lavender was struggling with the idea of sending him away. Why? Why would she reject him?
“Are you already married?” he asked.
“Goddess, no.” Lavender shook her head. “Relationships aren’t really in the cards for me.”
“They are if you have the Mating Scent,” said Raymond from the doorway. He held a six-pack of ginger beer. “I couldn’t figure out how to make tea.” He walked into the room and put the six-pack ont
o the coffee table. “You don’t walk away from a mating bond, kiddo. Look at me and Begonia. We got a second chance at love. We’re not giving that up—not even that dumbass Ferth will pry us apart.” He frowned. “Well, not forever at any rate.” He pulled one of the glass bottles from the cardboard container and twisted off the metal top. He waved at Lavender. “Would you mind blooding this up?”
“Oh. Of course.” Lavender zapped the bottle.
After he took a sip, he said, “Huh. Ginger beer blood is pretty good.” He nodded at Lavender. “You two obviously belong together.”
“Raymond,” said Lavender. “It’s not fair to Caulder to have a mate who might occasionally, but not on purpose, blow up buildings. Or unleash a plague.”
The vampire looked at Caulder. “You care about that?”
“Not really.”
“There you go. Problem solved.”
Lavender turned her gaze onto Caulder. She couldn’t help but see the admiration in his eyes. That, and the attraction that set her blood to humming and her girly bits to tingling.
“You should probably kiss,” said Raymond. “Just to see if you two have sparks.”
The Mating Scent guaranteed they would have sparks, but Lavender wasn’t against feeling Caulder’s mouth on hers. Or Caulder’s mouth anywhere on her person.
“What about the memory I deleted?” she asked, desperate. “That wasn’t very nice of me.”
“Was it a good memory?” asked Caulder.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’d never remove a good memory.”
“So, you took away a painful memory.” He rose to his feet and then drew her up into his embrace. “You’re kind, Lavender. And strong. I don’t care that you took away some of my pain. In fact, I’m grateful.”
“But Caulder—“
He kissed her. He tasted like cherries, one of her favorite fruits. Sweet and just a little tart. Oh, Goddess. The warmth of his body against hers, the softness of his lips as he kissed her, and the utter desire heating her blood… oh, it all confirmed the truth.
Magic and Mayhem: Sh*t My Vampire Says (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Witches Gone Wild Book 3) Page 3
