by Kris Calvert
“Why?” I asked turning to look at her. “If he’s looking for me why is he coming here? God knows I’ve lived in every city in Kansas and Oklahoma. Geez, there are even a handful of places I’ve lived more than once. But I’ve never been here in my life.”
“Because this place is lousy with Witches and Shifters. They’ve kept the humans out for years, hoping to have their own safe haven.”
“Did it work?” I asked, turning to look at her. I needed answers. Not the runaround.
“There’s good and bad in everything and everyone. And every town.”
“You’re talking in circles again. Just tell me what I need to know!” I clinched my fists at my side and another clap of thunder rattled the sky.
Green sparkles flowed around her and as quickly as I’d conjured the storm, it dissipated. “Do you mind to stop all that nonsense? You’re giving me a headache.”
“Look, if you promised my mother you’d look after me, I gotta say you’re terrible at it. I’ve never seen you before. You show up here telling me I’m either going to die or break my curse, and casually mention that the Reverend John Hale has been looking for me all these years and comes to this God-forsaken town thinking he’ll find me?”
“The curse your mother cast wasn’t for you.”
I walked away not only angry but more frustrated than I’d felt in centuries. “I’m fully aware of that, Baba Yaga.”
“Did you honestly think your mother wasn’t strong enough to hit him with the spell too? Sure, you got in the way—and let’s be honest, that was a stupid thing to do—but the pox your mother cast on him still got him.” She raised her eyebrows and smiled wickedly. “It actually got him good, too.”
“Are you telling me John Hale blows around with the weather like I do?”
“Hell no. He’s a mortal with a pox upon him, and a piece of crap at that. He’s cursed to walk the earth as an immortal mortal. He can’t be happy, and he’s never known love.”
“That makes two of us and there’s no such thing as an immortal mortal.” I shook my head at her.
“There is. And your mother is responsible for it. Just as she’s responsible for the true love part—love that lasts across the ages is the only thing that breaks the mother effin’ thing.”
“What? How am I supposed to know when I find a love that’s lasted across the ages? I’ve never been in love.”
“You have, too. You just don’t want to admit it, that’s all. The curse is meant to make love as scary as possible. That’s why you’ve always been so good at the sex part.”
“Hey, watch it. I’m no slut.”
“Hey,” she mocked. You’ve been around the block over three hundred and some years. You were bound to have a few lovers in and out of your bed.”
I chose to ignore her statement to focus on what was most important. “So he’s after me, so what? Why should I care? I’m old and powerful. Even an immortal mortal isn’t a match for me. Or you for that matter, which begs the question: if he’s such a thorn in your side here in Witch and Shifter Haven, why haven’t you done away with him yourself?”
“If I destroy him, I destroy you,” she said poking her finger into my chest. “You are connected to him like Samson and Delilah, like Sonny and Cher, like Charlie Sheen and…a boatload of hookers.”
I smirked. “None of those relationships ended well.”
“My point exactly,” she said. “Only one can destroy the other. You must destroy him and you shall find true love, and this is the place where you’re destined to find it all: your truth, your love, your destiny. If he destroys you first? Well…”
“Then he is released from the curse.” I said the words for her, knowing she didn’t really want to tell me that I could be dead soon.
“Yes.”
“When is he coming to Assss….” I paused. “What is the name of this town anyway?”
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that he’ll be here soon—the next new moon.”
“That’s tomorrow,” I said turning to look at my store, still not anywhere close to being ready for business. “I need to prepare.”
“That’s my girl,” Baba Yaga said. “Now, I’m off. Play nice with the other enchanted beings, okay?”
“Fine. I won’t do anything destructive, just maybe brush up on my powers.”
“I’m taking that statement as a No problem, Baba Yaga. And thank you for coming in here and telling me what I need to know—also known as saving my ass.”
“Thank you for saving my quatch-buttock.”
She nodded as she began to disappear in a cloud of glitter. “Knock off the old English! You’re showing your age!”
“Oh and this from a woman who dresses like she’s just been an extra in the movie Flashdance!”
“Watch it Deliverance, or I’ll conjure you into a movie that’s your namesake.” She cupped her hand around her ear and cocked her head. “Can you hear the banjos?”
THREE
I’D SPENT THE rest of the day conjuring up the bakery and even had all the ingredients ready for tomorrow morning’s baking session. As I climbed the stairs, I tucked Mother’s spell book under my arm, hoping to find a clue as to how I would get rid of Hale once and for all. Magic was at its strongest when true intention was behind it. I intended to rid the world of Hale, no matter what it took.
The old door that led to the apartment was open at the top of the steps. Based on what the store looked like when I arrived today, I could only imagine what I’d be facing in the apartment.
Snapping my fingers, I illuminated the space and found that it was nothing like the store below. Beautiful hardwood floors and oriental rugs graced the open, loft style apartment. The kitchen was small and next to the bathroom, but the centerpiece of the place was the bed. King sized and seemingly carved out of half a tree, I thought perhaps someone in the Ass town was a fan of Swiss Family Robinson, or perhaps had watched one too many treehouse building reality shows on the DIY network.
Walking to the bed, I ran my hands across the patchwork quilt that lay on top and thought of my time in Salem with my mother and sister. Talking with Baba Yaga today brought it all back to me.
The way my mother smelled of bread and the evening air, and even how my sister found a way, no matter what, to tease me or give me a hard time. It was true what Baba Yaga had said, Sarah was a handful, but she was still my sister.
I let out a heavy sigh and tossed the book on the bed, closing my eyes.
“I hope you find the room and furnishings acceptable.”
With a gasp I turned to find Mr. Salt and Pepper gracing the doorway.
“Mr. Links,” I began as I splayed my hand across my chest. “I didn’t hear you come into the store downstairs. I mean, I thought I locked everything up.”
He strode toward me, now dressed in a dark suit, white shirt and navy bowtie. Taking my hand in his, he lifted it to his lips, grazing his warm mouth across my knuckles. “Please accept my apology, I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just I knew you’d be settling in tonight and I wanted to check on you—you know, just make sure you had everything you needed.”
An enormous grin slowly broke out across his face. I swallowed hard and nodded. He was just as handsome in the evening light as he was in the daytime, and I had a difficult time concentrating on his explanation for being in my bedroom at such a late hour. His jaw clinched slightly and I sighed at the taut muscles in his neck. Links was all testosterone and teeth. It was sex appeal with a bite, and I was eager flesh at the moment.
“I saw what you did with the place downstairs. It’s pretty spectacular.”
“I thought it was okay to do whatever I wanted,” I said, taking back my hand.
“Of course. I was merely expressing my astonishment, not criticizing in any way.”
I pursed my lips and nodded.
“So everything up here is okay?” he asked, looking around the apartment.
“Yes.”
He clapped his hands, rubbi
ng them together as if he was formulating a plan. “Okay then, I’ll just leave you to it for the evening.”
He turned and then stopped to face me, his eyes glistening in the light of the old lamp by the door. “You are welcome to decorate up here as well if you’d like.”
“Thank you. I’ll see how it grows on me first.”
He nodded and began to leave, only to stop himself again. “Oh.”
“Yes?”
“I was just wondering when you’d be open downstairs. I’m quite a fan of sweets.”
I paused. He was truly a beautiful man to look at in every way possible and I found myself at a loss—at a loss of everything.
“What?”
“The bakery?” he asked pointing below. “When will you be open for business?”
“Tomorrow. I’ll be open tomorrow.”
“Wow.”
“Wow?”
“No, don’t get me wrong. Clearly you have your shit—ah, I mean, stuff together. No judgement here,” he said, touching his big hands to his lapels. “I’ll be by for a tasty treat tomorrow.”
“And, I’ll be here cooking them.”
Dear God what was wrong with me? I’d dated men for centuries. I knew how to be coy and funny. I could be downright enchanting, dammit. Somehow it all escaped me tonight.
He leaned into the doorframe and crossed his feet at the ankles. “What is your best treat, Miss Parker?”
I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at him. Could he be the one? A true love that lasts across the ages? I certainly couldn’t read him like I could others. If this town was my place of truth, then how could it not be him?
“Miss Parker?” he asked again.
“Umm…I don’t know. I guess I’m most famous for my Kissy Cakes.”
“Crispy cakes?” he asked, dipping his chin and looking up at me with his steely gray eyes.
When he began stroking his soul patch with two fingers, I nearly came undone.
“Ah no. Kissy Cake. It’s a cupcake,” I said coming to my feet. “It’s a special recipe. Something my mother taught me how to make.”
“Well then,” he said, pulling the sleek contours of his body from the door. “Until tomorrow and the Kissy Cake.”
Turning to leave, I found myself compelled to shout out to him. “Wait.”
“Of course,” he said with a smile. “What is it?”
I pointed to the steps. “I’ll walk you down. I should make sure the doors are locked.”
“That’s a good idea. I would hate for someone to come in here and snatch you up.”
“I can promise you that would never happen, Mr. Links.”
When we made it to the front door of the store he turned and faced me again. “A wolf in sheep’s clothing is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, no matter what town you’re in.”
I nodded. “True.”
“See you tomorrow,” he said, stepping over the threshold and into the starry night.
“Until tomorrow.”
I closed the door behind me and knew he was watching as I turned out the lights in the store and slowly climbed the stairs. I didn’t look back. I didn’t have to. Mr. Links’ eyes were all over me.
* * *
NESTLED IN THE comfortable bed, I ran my hands along the massive wood that cradled the mattress in its arms. With a deep sigh, I felt myself falling into something that wasn’t sleep. My body felt heavy, the pull of my bones into the bed a dense gravity from which I couldn’t move.
I opened my eyes and strained to speak. I tried to twirl my finger to release the hold it had on me.
“Deliverance, listen to me.”
Mother? I couldn’t move my mouth, and yet I could hear my own voice.
“My child, the time has come. Find the love that’s been waiting for you, break the spell, end the curse. Bring Hale to justice.”
I don’t know how to find love. Haven’t I proved that? Baba Yaga came to me. She told me the same thing, but how can a love from across the ages be waiting for me if I’ve never known it?
“You know. Listen to your magic. Listen to your magic.”
With a gasp I sat up in bed, my body covered in sweat. I could hear the sound of a lone coyote howling in the night. “Mother.” I said the word, knowing she was gone. It was the second time I’d seen her in my dreams in three centuries. I knew it meant something—of course it meant something. My situation was dire.
“Love across the ages? Listen to your magic?” I repeated the words she’d left me with. “Seriously? This is a bunch of Werewolf shit.”
I threw myself back into the bed, placing my arms across my face to cover my eyes. “All I’ve ever wanted was out of this curse. I’ve been kind, I’ve helped others find their way. Granted, I’ve tossed more than a little magic around in the battlefield of love, but never for myself. Just once I want a chance of my own.”
“Then listen to your magic.”
I shot up in the darkness of the bedroom and twirled my finger to light the room. “Who’s there?”
“Down here.”
The raspy voice was high and welcoming. I leaned over the side of the bed and still saw nothing. “Where are you? Who are you?”
“I’m Felix and I’m down here, for the love of Abramelin the Mage.”
“Who?” I asked, now hanging half of my body from the side of the bed only to find a tiny gray mouse.
“Who am I? Or who is Abramelin the Mage?”
“Both.”
“Fine, but first can you give me a lift?” he asked.
Laying my open palm on the old hardwood, the tiny mouse climbed aboard and I pulled him and myself back up to the bed. Letting him go, I pushed back against the headboard and found myself staring in disbelief.
“What?” he asked, obviously perturbed at my glare.
I shook my head and couldn’t help but smile. “You’re not a Shifter.”
“God, no. All that hair to skin and back to hair or scales or feathers…I mean whatever. I can take a human form but it’s not really my thing, not my deal, not my style.” He waved his tiny hands around as he spoke then finally sat back on his haunches and stared at me.
“You’re a talking mouse?” I asked with a giggle. “Or am I the only one who can hear you? And where exactly did you come from?” I looked around the room as if there was some portal I was unaware of.
“Okay let’s get a few things straight from the beginning here. I realize I’m a mouse, but I’m not running around in someone’s pantry or barn. I have very particular tastes in life and I would appreciate it if you simply referred to me as Felix and not a talking mouse.”
I dropped the smile from my lips and gave him a distinguished nod. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Felix. I’m—”
“I know, I know, you’re Deliverance Parker. Believe me honey, I’m way more informed than you are at the moment.”
I shook my head. Never in the three hundred years I’d traveled the earth had someone known me, and today it had happened twice. It was exciting, but a little scary.
“Don’t look so dazed and confused. You’re way too smart for that and we both know it. Now I’m here to complete a job and hopefully pick up a little action on the side while doing it. This is West Virginia and also the middle of nowhere. There should be plenty of opportunities to—you know—raise Lazarus from the dead, if you know what I mean.”
“Mouse action?” I held my laughter back, biting my lip.
“You know what Prissy Pants? We’re going to get along so much better if you just let me do my job and don’t judge me.”
“That’s all fine and well, but I have no idea what your job is, Felix, other than chasing little girl mice around looking for a hook up.”
“Witch please, bros before hoes.”
I shuddered with surprise. “Excuse me?”
“Look Dee, just because you were born in 1676 doesn’t mean you have to act like it. I was a familiar to Will Shakespeare and you don’t hear me speaking in iambic pentameter do you?”
“Wait…what did you just say?”
“I said, I was with Will Shakes—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I caught all of that. You’re a familiar?”
“Now who would’ve thought you’d pick that as the most shocking part of my information dump. I thought for sure finding out Shakespeare is a Warlock would be much more intriguing.”
“Shakespeare was a Warlock?”
“Is a warlock,” he said lying on his side to prop himself up on his tiny hand. “Works in Hollywood writing sitcoms these days. He’s such a horn dog, L.A. was the perfect place for him to land. He’s a sucker for fake boobs and bleached blonde hair. Disappointing I know, right? But the man has a sexual appetite that would frighten Caligula. He’s also had every known STD in the history of the universe and is still out there hittin’ it every damn day.”
I blanched at his reply and took a moment to reset my head. “What are you doing here? In Ass—”
“What you should be asking yourself is why.”
Staring at him, I took it in—all of it. Why was a horny, gay field mouse who used to be a familiar for William Shakespeare in my bedroom on the heels of a dream about my mother? “Okay, I’ll bite. Why are you here?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Seriously?”
“Babs sent me. She thought you might need some, you know, direction so to speak.”
“Direction?”
“Look Dee,” Felix began. “Do you mind if I call you Dee?”
“My mother and sister called me Dee,” I said, looking to my hands. It was the second time in less than a day someone had asked to call me Dee. I loved it and at the same time it made me homesick for the family I’d never see again.
“Your sister? Your sister Sarah?”
I nodded again. “Yes.”
“She was a piece of work, that one.”
“You knew her?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I knew her, I knew your mother, I know Babs Yags.”
“Who?”
“For the love of Prince Rupert’s poodle, the big-haired, Lycra-clad, woman who came to visit you today. The one who sent your mother to you tonight in your dreams. The Witch who sent me. You don’t listen to your magic do you?”
