Big Beautiful Witches: I Married A Warlock

by Georgette St. Clair

  “He said that I could stay with him at his apartment if mother comes to look for me here. And he also said that he’d never let mother take me away, and he’ll always be there to keep me safe.”

  “I’m a werewolf,” Mala, who’d been bussing the outdoor tables, announced.

  “I know, and you’re an adorable one.” Delphine patted Mala’s head affectionately.

  “I’m going to be a waitress, not a prostitute,” Mala added, and carried her tray of dirty dishes indoors. Delphine stared after her.

  “That is one weird little kid. Cute, but weird,” Delphine shook her head in bemusement as they headed back to Fiona’s shop.

  “Welcome to the Graveyard. If you see anything that seems too normal here, look out. It’s wearing a glamour and about to kill you.”

  “Your life is never boring, I’ll say that for you.”

  Despite the impending rain storm, the crowd of uptown customers was as thick as ever. Fiona was counting down the days until the Crystal Ball; this particular crowd of customers was stepping on her last nerve like a heavy boot on a taut guitar string.

  As they walked in the door, Fiona noticed quick movement behind the checkout counter. “Renoir, what are you hiding from me?”

  Renoir was stealthily stuffing something in the garbage can behind the counter. He squeaked with alarm when Fiona walked up behind him.

  “Don’t DO that to me! I nearly peed myself!” he shrieked.

  She reached into the garbage can and pulled out an envelope and a newspaper clipping. The envelope had no return address on it.

  The newspaper clipping came from the society pages of the Twin River City Tribune. It was a picture of Erik and Maegera sitting at a dinner table at the Palace Restaurant.

  Fiona went pale.

  “Interesting,” was all she said.

  Maegera had a huge, smug smile on her face; Erik was looking down at his plate of food, and it was impossible to read his expression in the grainy photograph.

  “I’m sorry, princess. Men are pigs. I should know, I am one. If I see that bitch, I’ll claw his pretty blue eyes out.”

  Fiona shook her head. “Don’t bother,” she said sadly. “He never promised me anything.” Her heart sat like a lump of coal in her chest.

  “I bet you a million bucks that bitch Maegera was the one who sent this clipping,” Renoir scowled.

  “I’m sure it was. But what difference does it make? He took her out on a date…after he was with me.” Fiona sighed.

  “I could find out if Konrad knows any nice single werewolves,” Delphine offered. Fiona gave a bitter laugh. “My heart’s been chopped into cube steak. I’m not up for any new romances right now, but thank you.”

  “I’m going for a walk,” she told Renoir. She’d had enough of rich witches for the morning; she needed some fresh air to clear her head. Of course, she was in the Graveyard, so she’d settle for some polluted air and the possibility of a mugging.

  As she walked out of the store, she saw a beggar in a hooded sweatshirt shuffling towards her. Probably needed a hangover cure, or something for the DTs, she thought.

  But the beggar suddenly tossed back the hood of the sweatshirt, and then he straightened and seemed to grow six inches taller before her eyes. The filth melted from his face and the weedy brown dreadlocks turned into flowing locks of rippling gold.

  “Hello, Erik. That is one excellent glamor charm,” she said with grudging admiration. “You had me fooled.”

  “Fiona, I don’t know why you’re avoiding me. You haven’t answered any of my phone calls or texts, and every time I stop by, you’re mysteriously away and not expected to return,” Erik said, exasperated.

  “I’m busy. Really busy. I-“

  “We have a good lead on two of the men involved in the warehouse thefts,” Erik interrupted her. “They’ll be at the Wharf Rat tonight meeting up with a potential buyer.”

  Men. He’d said men. So they hadn’t identified Maizie yet, Fiona thought with relief.

  “You and I are going to use glamour disguises and pose as a couple, and we’re going to hang out at the Wharf Rat, where these particular suspects are known to congregate. When we spot them, we’re going to plant a bug on them, which will give us the proof that we need to bust them. If you don’t want to help me – I might as well turn the case over to the Enforcers Squad.”

  Damn it. That again. Well, Maizie had skipped town, so she wouldn’t be arrested in whatever sweep Erik and the Enforcers had planned. And she might as well get this stupid case wrapped up so she could get Erik out of her life for good. She’d never get him out of her thoughts, and her heart…but if she didn’t have to see him all the time, the sharp ache might fade to a dull throb, at least.

  Of course, Erik could use anyone as his partner that evening, and it would make more sense for him to use another Enforcer, but then again, nothing that Erik did made sense to her any more.

  “Fine. Let’s get this over with,” she said coldly.

  “I’ll pick you up at nine tonight.” And he turned and walked away before she had a chance to answer him.

  She could tell he was angry at her. How ridiculous was that? He expected that he should be able to have secret sex with her and then parade around town with Maegera?

  “Hey, was that the cop?” Mala dashed up to her. “I was watching out for him, I swear!”

  “It’s not your fault. He used a disguise,” Fiona sighed.

  Mala glared after him. “Cops are sneaky!”

  “That one is,” Fiona agreed. She headed back into the shop, dreading this coming evening. She prayed that the bust wasn’t going to snare Maizie in its net, but if she knew Maizie, Maizie would have been operating under a false identity and an excellent disguise, so with luck no trail would lead back to her.

  At precisely 9 p.m., footsteps pounded up the stairway, and then the door shook as Erik rapped on it.

  At least, it sounded like Erik. But when Fiona looked through the keyhole on the doorway, she saw a burly biker with a full beard and arms covered in crudely drawn, obscene tattoos.

  “Who is it?” she called out.

  “The man you’ve been ignoring for the past week and a half.” Erik’s voice was coming out of the biker’s mouth.

  The Enforcers clearly had a very good budget for glamour disguises.

  With a sigh, she pulled the door open, and bit back the various retorts that leaped to her mind…like “I can’t imagine that you suffered too much, with Maegera to keep you company.”

  “Your glamour, Madame,” Erik said, and he draped a leather cord around her neck. It had a little wooden amulet dangling from it.

  She felt the same, but when she looked at herself in her mirrored vanity, she saw a voluptuous biker wench with flaming red hair, and tattoos that matched those of Erik’s in number and in obscenity.

  “God damn it, Erik, I have a penis growing out of a flower on my arm.”

  “Sounds like a personal problem.” Erik barely suppressed a smile.

  “Who designs these glamours?”

  “Not me.” Erik went all wide-eyed and innocent. Fiona replied with a snort of contempt, and slammed the door to her apartment shut with a bang before they walked down the stairs.

  “So what’s our cover?”

  “Your name is Barb. I’m Scorpion. We ride with a biker gang called Incubi, back east, but we’re here laying low because the law is on the lookout for us.”

  Fiona shook her head. “Those lousy pigs, always ruining everybody’s fun.”

  “Actually, I’ve heard that they’re not all bad,” Erik said quietly. Fiona could have sworn that his voice was tinged with sadness.

  Really? He was going to play the victim here?

  She bit her lip and didn’t say a word.

  Erik was driving a Harley that evening. He grabbed the two helmets that were dangling off the handlebars and handed one to Fiona; they put on their helmets and he slung his leg over the seat. Fiona climbed up behind him, cursing
his choice of transportation. Had he done this on purpose? Probably.

  Wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing up against the rock hard muscles of his back, feeling his warmth flowing through her, was torture.

  “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” Erik asked, hand on the ignition key.

  “Nothing’s bothering me.”

  “Fine,” he bit out, revved the engine, and pulled away from the curb.

  You want to know what’s wrong? I’m in love with you, and you’re breaking my heart, Fiona thought.

  But was it really such a surprise? Her fate had been made clear to her by her mother and her schoolmates her entire life, and look what happened to her when she’d briefly been foolish enough to believe she could really be loved. Her heart had been flattened to pieces.

  They pulled up at the Wharf Rat by ten o clock. It was a bar that made The Three Broomsticks look elegant and refined by comparison. It stank of urine, there were rats scuttling about the floor, and prostitutes openly plied their trade in the dark corners.

  “Ewww,” Fiona muttered to Erik. “I think she’s kneeling in pee. You really do take me to the nicest places.”

  “Hey, ish thish your lady? How much?” A drunken werewolf staggered up to them, eyeing Fiona appraisingly.

  “I already paid a pretty penny for her services. You’ll have to look elsewhere,” Erik said.

  “Shorry. Carry on.” The werewolf turned, stumbled over to a spittoon, and vomited copiously into it, with accompanying retching noises.

  “Damn it, Scorpion, you scared him off. I wanted me some of that,” Fiona shook her head in mock annoyance.

  “You’ll have to settle for this,” Erik said.

  And before Fiona could protest, Erik bent down and kissed her, his lips hungrily claiming hers. The rest of the world faded away, the din and the smell, and all that was left was Erik, kissing her as if he were drowning and she were his only oxygen.

  Finally he pulled away.

  “Didn’t you miss that?” he murmured into her ear.

  “God, yes,” Fiona blurted out before she could stop herself.

  “Then why are you hiding from me?”

  Stalling, Fiona scanned the room. “Shouldn’t we be looking for our suspects?”

  “We’ve got all night. Answer the question.”

  Standing at the end of the bar was a massively tall, broad-shouldered man who looked very familiar. Fiona glanced at him casually, then turned to Erik.

  “That’s the half-giant guy from the warehouse – the one who cleaned up after the theft even though he was told not to.”

  “And he’s talking to the two men we’re looking for,” Erik said, watching them in the smoke-clouded mirror behind the bar.

  “There’s your proof of an inside job. Give me the bug.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Oh, just headed to the restroom.”

  He handed her a tiny silver sphere. It was a chameleon bug; it would change to the color of whatever it affixed to.

  “Be careful.”

  “Careful’s my middle name.”

  Fiona shimmied her way through the crowd, growling under her breath when someone grabbed her butt, and stifled her natural impulse to turn and deck him. She was here to do a job and get the hell out.

  “Oops!” She stumbled and fell into the giant, who was deep in conversation with his two compatriots, pressing the bug against his leather jacket as she did so. She looked up at him, batting her eyes, and when she spoke she made sure it came out in a Southern twang. “Hey, sugar, you want a good time? Fifty bucks.” She was counting on the fact that he was in the middle of an illegal business transaction and was unlikely to say yes.

  “Back off, cow. I’m busy,” the giant rumbled, and turned back to his friends.

  As she sidled away, he called out “Hey!”

  Heart sinking, she turned back to him. Had he seen through her Glamour? Or worse, did he want to take her up on her offer?

  “Nice tats,” he said approvingly, and then turned back to his conversation.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Fiona had to summon up all of her strength to resist Erik’s offer to walk her up to her doorway when he’d dropped her off. He’d stood there on the street, watching her, and every cell in her body screamed for her to turn and call out his name, to beg for him to be with her, to hold her…

  She was weak when she was near Erik.

  But she’d kept her voice strong and steady as she pointed out that Delphine was home waiting for her, and turned and walked away from him, feeling his gaze burning into her back.

  When she reached her apartment, Delphine wasn’t alone. Sitting at the kitchen table with her were Maizie and Stasik.

  Or what used to be Maizie.

  “Holy I don’t even know what diety to invoke. “ Fiona’s jaw dropped as she stared at Maizie.

  Maizie’s fair skin, formerly a glowing peaches and cream, had faded to ivory. Her black pupils were huge, and her eyes glowed with a strange inner light.

  “She’s a vampire,” Delphine announced. “A vampire. Can you believe it?”

  “What the hell happened?” Fiona blurted out. She wheeled to glare at Stasik. “You risked her life like that? You selfish bastard. I should have my vines choke the life out of you.”

  “Easy, Veggie. I went to a clinic so I could get turned,” Maizie said.

  “Against my knowledge and consent...but I’m glad that she did,” Stasik added.

  “Maizie…that was so dangerous!”

  “I know,” Maizie said quietly. “And highly illegal.”

  “Damn straight it is.” Fiona felt her heart clench with fear. To become a vampire was no small thing. It required a formal legal application filed with the courts, could only be undertaken by those 25 or older, and had to be legally approved by the vampire council. And 90 percent of those who were approved didn’t survive the turn.

  The process was so dangerous that all medical experimentation involving vampire conversions was strictly illegal.

  “It’s expensive, too, isn’t it?” Fiona said. “That’s why you were helping to rob those warehouses.”

  “I plead the Fifth.”

  Fiona said “I figured it out the first day when I was at the warehouse and I found those herbs for treating anemia. I’m the only person who grows that particular subspecies; it’s my own cultivar. I never told Erik.”

  Maizie smiled ruefully. “I’m sure that he’ll figure it out eventually. He’s not stupid. I came to say goodbye. Stasik has turned over the control of his house to his first lieutenant. We’re being smuggled out of the country to Romania. Between the thefts, and my illegal vampire conversion, I wouldn’t stand a chance here.”

  Fiona’s eyes filled with tears.

  She’d miss Maizie fiercely, but she could see that Maizie and Stasik were truly in love. She could see the way Stasik hovered protectively over her, the look of pure adoration in his eyes when he looked at Maizie. And Maizie looked more at peace than she’d ever seen her before. That inner anger which burned inside her had been tampered and mellowed.

  “You can come visit us in Romania, you know. When we get there safely I’ll send word telling you where we are. And you can rely on Konrad for protection. He owes me his life, and I made him promise.”

  Maizie threw her arms around Fiona, and crushed her in a hug, then stepped back.

  “Just do me one favor?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Have a little faith in yourself. Don’t let your mother’s craziness poison your life. When you start playing her insults in your head…consider the source.” She looked at Fiona. “And for what it’s worth, I believe Erik’s in love with you. I don’t know what’s happening with Maegera, maybe it’s pressure from his family, maybe Maegera is somehow manipulating it to look as if he’s with her, but Erik truly loves you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you; it’s the way Stasik looks at me.”

  She kissed Fiona�
�s cheek. “I’ll miss you, Veggie.”

  Fiona blinked back tears. “I won’t miss you at all, Fang.”

  “Fang! I love it.” Maizie winked at Delphine. “Be good.”

  And she and Stasik got up and they walked out of the apartment, leaving Fiona behind with a dull ache of loneliness as her best friend disappeared from her life. The Crystal Ball was tomorrow, and she’d have to face it alone, face Erik, face everything.

  She sat back down, her heart sitting heavy as a chunk of granite in her chest.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was too much. It was just too much to tolerate.

  Renoir had gone uptown to do some shoe shopping at one of his favorite boutiques, and there was Erik, standing like a giant Norse god in blue jeans, on the corner of 97th and Main. He’d just walked out of a coffee shop, and Maegera had followed him out of the store, trailed by a miserable looking Bonnie, who walked with her head down.

  Maegera looked furious; she stomped away from Erik, climbing into a limousine. Bonnie scrambled in after her, and the limousine took off before Bonnie had even closed her door, in a cloud of white smoke and screeching rubber.

  Clearly she and Erik had just had a lover’s quarrel.

  Renoir couldn’t stand it any more. He rushed up and slapped Erik across the face.

  He had to unfurl his wings and hover in the air to do it, because Erik was a foot taller than him, but it was worth it.

  “Bastard!” he shrieked.

  Erik rubbed his face and stared at him, astonished. “What the hell was that for?” he demanded.

  “You used Fiona for sex and you’re running around town with that bitch, and you have the nerve to ask me why I slapped you?” Renoir hissed. “I should claw your eyes out!”

  Erik stared at Renoir as if he’d lost his senses. “I am not running around town with Maegera. Every time I turn around, she’s there. I stopped in to have a cup of coffee, she walked in the coffee shop and sat down at my table without an invitation. Going on and on about what she’s wearing at the Crystal Ball tonight, trying to make it sound as if we were going together. I finally told her in no uncertain terms that she and I would never be together, and she ran off in a rage. Thank God.”