Big Beautiful Witches: I Married A Warlock

by Georgette St. Clair

  During the daytime, there was a ruined beauty to the Graveyard, the beauty of antiques and the ancient patina of rust. The sun beat down on them, warming her skin, and they drove with the windows down.

  The wind streamed through Erik’s golden hair. His fingers skimmed up higher on her leg, sending streaks of heat shooting through her body, and she leaned back in her seat.

  Maegera had to be lying. There was no way Erik would act like this with Fiona and then taking Maegera out on a date that evening.

  “Ahhhhhhhhh!” A strangled scream tore the air, and Erik braked so fast Fiona was thrown against her seatbelt.

  “Stay here,” he said sternly, and his wand shot out if its sheath and into his hand. He leaped to his feet and flung the car door open, and dashed down an alleyway between two abandoned buildings.

  Fiona could hear loud shouts, cursing, and banging noises.

  She pondered for a moment. “Stay here” was great advice. It was safe advice.

  It went against Fiona’s very nature.

  She leaped from the car, and rushed down the alleyway. A goblin had literally been torn in two, the two halves of his body lying in a spreading dark pool at the back of the alley.

  Erik had incinerated a human, who lay in a smoldering heap at the back of the alley, but the human had been accompanied by a golem. A creature made of mud and brought to life, powered by dark magic. Odds were good that the human had directed the golem to rip the goblin in half, for reasons that would probably never be known.

  At the moment, the golem had its massive arms wrapped around Erik and was crushing the breath out of him. Erik’s arms were pinned to his sides, and the magic he was able to sum up without his wand was useless; lightning bolts zapped and sizzled uselessly, bouncing off the Golem’s muddy flesh.

  Mud. Now there was something that Fiona could work with. Because dirt always contained plant matter.

  She whipped out her wand and pointed it at the golem, concentrating hard, picturing the living matter inside the mud. Within seconds, leaves and tendrils were shooting out of the golem’s flesh, streaming down its arms and legs, swelling, growing bigger and bigger…chunks of mud began flying off the golem and it dropped Erik and staggered back.

  Tendrils shot from its eyes and mouth, wrapping around its neck, its limbs...

  “Get back!” Fiona shouted.

  But it was too late.

  The golem exploded, chunks of mud flying everywhere, splattering Erik from head to toe. Mud dripped from his hair and drenched his shirt; mud fell from him in gobs, plopping on the ground. His face was hidden behind a mud mask, his blue eyes sparking with anger in a sea of mud.

  “Are you laughing?” Erik demanded, wiping at his face with his sleeve.

  Fiona was doubled over, tears streaming from her eyes, shaking with laughter.

  “N-no,” she choked out. “Not at all –“ she couldn’t help it. Erik looked like he’d just taken first place in a mud-wrestling match. That mental image set her to howling again.

  “Very funny,” he grumbled.

  “And you’re welcome for saving your life!”

  “I had it,” he muttered.

  “You sure did. You were giving that Golem hell.”

  “And didn’t I tell you to stay in the car?”

  “Did you? I can’t remember back that far. Come over to my place; you can take a shower. I can’t be seen in public with you looking like this.”

  They were at Fiona’s apartment in minutes. Erik stopped inside the doorway and stripped, and Fiona gathered up his mud-splattered clothes and threw them in the washing machine.

  “I need some help in the shower,” Erik told Fiona. “Can’t reach my back.”

  “Really?” Fiona said skeptically.

  “No, of course not. I want to get you naked so I can ravage you again.”

  Fiona didn’t have to be told twice; in next to no time, they were inside the shower, and she helped scrub Erik clean, lathering his hair and running her fingers through it.

  Again she felt it, that aching sense of rightness, as if he and she were just where they belonged.

  He bent down to kiss her, his mouth warm and sweet, his hand cupping her chin.

  Then grabbed the soapy sponge and slipped it between her legs, rubbing her gently.

  “Ohhh,” she gasped. The sponge dropped from his hands. He found the pink pearl of her clitoris, and rubbed it with his thumb, while nuzzling her neck.

  “Mmmmm,” she wailed, and he slipped two fingers of his other hand inside her, stroking her velvety inner wall until he found the spot that made her arch her back and cry out.

  The heat built up inside her, bunching up in her pelvis and then exploding, shooting hot sparks throughout her whole body from head to toe, as her orgasm pulsed through her and threatened to choke her.

  Roughly, he turned her to face the wall, and she put her hands against the tile, bracing herself as he slipped between her legs and thrust inside her. One of his arms circled her, holding her against his firm, wet flesh as he pumped hard, his breathing a rising crescendo in her ear.

  “Come for me,” she moaned, and his hips moved faster, his arm tightening on her until he exploded, shuddering, and she was flooded with his hot seed.

  “Good God, woman. You’re a dirty, dirty girl. You even manage to molest me in the shower.”

  “Don’t aggravate me in an apartment full of plants. I’ve got an army of green backup here,” Fiona grinned, feeling giddy and silly and very, very satisfied.

  “You’re a very bad influence,” she told Erik a short while later, as he pulled on his clothes after she plucked them from the dryer.

  “Me! Imagine that, Fiona Bloodstone calling me a bad influence.”

  “Hey, if the shoe fits…”She pulled her shirt over her head and quickly tucked it into her waistband, cursing the crowd of people in the store downstairs. She could easily have whiled away the afternoon with Erik in bed.

  She turned to Erik impulsively. “Hey, want to go out tonight?”

  “I wish I could, but I’ve got this thing I’ve got to do at the Palace. How about tomorrow night?”

  And just like that, she was crashing down to earth as if she’d ridden a magic carpet hundreds of feet in the air and then been hurled into the dirt.

  Maegera had actually, for once in her life, been telling the truth. Erik had a dinner date with her. At the Palace. He’d made love to Fiona all night long, flirted with her all day long, had sex with her in the shower…and now he was taking Maegera out to dinner.

  Apparently, Fiona was good enough to have sex with, but not good enough to date. She was Erik’s dirty little secret; Maegera was the woman that Erik would be proud to show off at the nicest restaurant in town.

  Of course.

  She was suddenly excruciatingly conscious of her fleshy thighs pressing together, of the fullness of her belly and the plumpness of her arms.

  Her mother’s words rang in her ears and stabbed her in the heart. No decent warlock would ever have you…when you insist on looking like this!

  “No,” she choked out.

  “No?” he looked puzzled, at both her vehemence and her abrupt answer.

  “I’m going to be really busy for the next few…weeks, actually. And I may not be able to help you out with the case any more. It sounds as if you have enough to go on.”

  “What?” Erik stared at her in astonishment.

  “I’ve got to run.”

  She turned and rushed from her apartment, running down the stairs as if a troll horde were chasing her.

  “Fiona, wait! What’s wrong?” Erik called behind her. She glanced back up at him; he was standing in her doorway, frantically pulling on his boots.

  Blinking back tears, she ran into the shop, slamming the door shut behind her.

  Quickly she pushed through the customers who were crowded in the aisles, ignoring Renoir and Maizie’s startled glances, and slipped out the back door. Then she rushed through the back yard where she
kept her herb garden, opened the garden gate, and slipped out into the alleyway behind there, in case Erik tried to follow her into the store.

  She didn’t burst into tears until she was several blocks away.

  Chapter Eleven

  “She’s not here yet?” Fiona asked for the dozenth time.

  “I will tell you the second she gets here,” Renoir assured her. “Girlfriend probably just had a little too much fun last night

  Fiona’s stomach was clenched tight with worry. It was 9 a.m. and Maizie wasn’t there yet. That was unprecedented.

  “Hey, sorry I’m late.” She turned, startled, to see Konrad standing there.

  “Late?”

  “Maizie sent me. She said she was called out of town for a while. She wanted me to keep an eye on you and the store while she was gone.” Konrad flashed a big grin full of white teeth. “So I’m at your beck and call. Anything you need.”

  “Out of town where?” Fiona demanded.

  “Just out of town. She’s being all secret squirrel these days.”

  “Right before the Crystal Ball? Her little secret mission couldn’t have waited? Damn it.”

  Fiona had never seen Maizie act the way she’d been acting recently. As if she didn’t have enough to worry about, with her sister leaving home, her mother on the warpath, and Erik apparently determined to crush her heart to pieces. He’d tried to call her repeatedly, and texted her a dozen times last night and this morning; she’d finally simply turned her phone off.

  She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “I can’t afford to pay you the kind of wages you’re used to earning as a bodyguard, Konrad. I pay Maizie back by patching her up after she’s been in fights, and providing her with various quasi-legal substances now and again. Which I’m sure you’re shocked to hear.”

  “That works for me. I have gigs at night, but I’m not doing much during the day at the moment, and I owe Maizie for saving my life a while back.”

  “Ugh. Don’t tell me about it. It’ll just make me worry.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it.” He settled down on a wooden chair, and a slim, beautiful witch who was rummaging through a basket of beauty potions caught his eye, tittered, and looked away. She looked back, and Konrad winked at her, sending her into a fit of giggles, and then she looked away again.

  Fiona rolled her eyes. “Girls just love a bad boy, don’t they?” Konrad shrugged, looking at her innocently. “Who me?”

  “So…when Maizie saved your life…was it while she was working for Stasik?”

  “You said you didn’t want to know.”

  “Was it a freelance gig? How close a call was it?”

  He grinned and turned back to his magazine.

  “Jerk. Where is she, really? You must have some clue.”

  Konrad shrugged, big shoulders rolling.

  “You’re useless. You’re fired.” Fiona grumbled.

  “You can’t fire me when you’re not even paying me,” Konrad said, unperturbed. “By the way, Maizie said you’d buy me lunch.”

  Fiona cursed and stomped back to her compounding room. Damn Maizie. It was clear to her now that Maizie had been planning to leave for at least the past few days. Konrad wasn’t her lover; Maizie had introduced Konrad to Fiona because she didn’t want to leave Fiona without protection.

  It also seemed likely that Fiona’s suspicions about the weed that she’d found at the first two warehouse break-ins were correct. She’d recognized the weed instantly; she hadn’t told Erik because it would have made it clear that Maizie was involved in the breakins.

  The weed was Hemofleur, which Maizie had been taking for her anemia. It was a particular subspecies that Fiona had developed herself, and which only grew in Fiona’s herb garden. If she told Erik what it was, he’d want a list of the customers who’d bought it from her…and the list wasn’t that large.

  That was why Fiona had dropped the subtle hint to Maizie about leaving plant matter at the scene of the break-ins.

  She hadn’t wanted to openly come out and tell Maizie she suspected her of involvement, in case she was called to testify about the case in court. But she had done her best to make herself clear.

  And the next warehouse theft had been completely clean and free of any traceable plant matter – unlike any of the previous warehouse break-ins. And of course, Maizie just had to break into Fiona’s father’s warehouse. She’d done it on purpose, because she was angry on Fiona’s behalf about how her parents had treated her.

  But why did Maizie suddenly need so much money? She made excellent money on her bodyguarding gigs.

  Fiona shook her head and turned her attention to the herbs.

  Erik stopped by around 11, but Fiona spotted him before he entered the store. She ducked back in the compounding room, and listened while Konrad repeated the lie that she was gone for the day and he had no idea where she was.

  She waited twenty minutes after he left and cautiously scanned the street before she walked next door to the Witches Brew.

  Mala was outside, sweeping the sidewalk around the tables. Fiona hardly recognized her. She was clean, her blond hair pulled back in a bun, wearing one of Rosalind’s t-shirts as a dress, and a pair of flip-flops that were too big for her. The shirt had the slogan “Too Hot For You” spelled out in rhinestones. Fiona briefly considered chastising Rosalind, both for her poor taste and the inappropriateness, but realized Rosalind would just get confused and she might trip while she walked.

  “Hey, Mala, you’ve got a new job. You’re my lookout. That tall cop with blond hair who just stopped by the shop? If you see him coming…your job is to drop what you’re doing, run into the shop, and warn me. It’s worth ten bucks a day.”

  “Twenty,” Mala said.

  “Twenty! I bought you lunch yesterday! Fine, you little thief.” Fiona fished a bill out of her purse and handed it to her. “How is it at Rosalind’s house?”

  “It’s awesome. Rosalind and her room-mates braided my hair and painted my nails.” She held out blue tipped fingers. “And I have my own mattress in the living room! And I had cake for breakfast!”

  “You’re living the dream, kid. All right, remember – if you let him get by you, I get my $20 back.”

  As she walked back to the store, Lillith pulled up in front of her store with Delphine in the front seat. Delphine climbed out, with a small rucksack slung over her shoulder. Lillith waved goodbye and drove off.

  “Things heating up for you in Snobville?” Fiona asked.

  “Mother’s been by Lillith’s house twice now demanding that they hand me over to her, and she threatened to get a lawyer, so her parents booted me out,” Delphine said, following Fiona into the store. “Don’t send me home. Mother will lock me in my room and feed me lettuce until she starves fifty pounds off me.”

  “Taking 50 pounds off that delicious figure? Now, that would be a crime.” Konrad walked up, and bowed deeply.

  Delphine turned to look at him, and her eyes grew wide.

  “Oh, lord,” Fiona muttered.

  “In fact, in order to ensure that you maintain your beautiful and voluptuous form, I insist on taking you out to lunch immediately. My name is Konrad.”

  “Delphine,” Fiona’s sister breathed. Konrad bent down and kissed her hand, and Fiona thought Delphine might faint on the spot.

  “Breathe, Delphine. In, out. Deep breaths.”

  “I’ll bring your sister back shortly. Safe and unharmed,” Konrad said to Fiona.

  “See that you do!” Fiona tried to make her voice sound menacing, but Konrad ignored her completely, too busy staring into Delphine’s wide blue eyes to hear a word that she said.

  Chapter Twelve

  The dark clouds piling up on the horizon were as sullen and heavy as Fiona’s mood. It was 8 a.m., and Fiona and Delphine stood outside of the Witches Brew drinking coffee and keeping a wary eye out for Desdemona.

  “Werewolves are just dreamy, don’t you think?” Delphine twirled in a circle, her skirt flowi
ng like a blue silk river. “And you know what?”

  “No, but you’re going to tell me whether I want to know or not, I imagine.” Fiona muttered, striving without success to tamp down on her crabbiness.

  A week had gone by, and dodging Erik had became a full time job. Konrad and Delphine had apparently fallen into instant love, or lust, and spent all day long at the shop making googly eyes at each other and holding hands and saying nauseatingly sweet romantic things to each other. Konrad took Delphine out for breakfast, lunch, and very late dinners, and insisted on walking her up to the doorway of Fiona’s apartment and kissing her good night for far too long before he left.

  “He doesn’t think I’m too fat at all. He thinks I’m perfect just the way I am. Can you imagine that?”

  Fiona felt a painful squeeze to her heart; no, she couldn’t imagine it, because the only person who’d ever said that to her had turned out to be a liar who actually liked his women bony and bitchy.

  But looking at Delphine’s face, round and sweet and innocent, and wide-eyed with wonder that anyone would actually think she was beautiful, eased her pain a little.

  “He’s right. Just keep telling yourself that again and again,” she said fervently.