Magic and Mayhem: Have Wand, Will Travel (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Teresa Reasor

  “He had a point. It’s witch and vampire business, and not fair to drag them into it.”

  “I know. But the dragons could be the key-holder to keep the peace.”

  “It’s a grave responsibility. A responsibility I’m starting to believe we’re stuck with if this doesn’t work.”

  She suddenly realized that, no matter how patient and indefatigable he seemed, he was just as weary as she and Cerbie were.

  “Let’s go wait in the car,” he suggested.

  They walked down the hill. With his hand resting on the small of her back, which was only one of the many courtesies he showed her, she felt how cherished she was. When he opened the door to the car for her, she paused to stroke his cheek. His beard felt springy and soft against her palm, and she rose on tiptoe to kiss him.

  She had fallen for a vampire. With all her heart.

  “I’ve enjoyed every moment of this adventure.”

  He smiled. “Even when the Hell’s Angels Shifters were chasing us on their crotch rockets to turn us in?”

  “Even then.”

  “Even when we hit that squall out in the ocean and you were seasick?”

  “Weeelllll, not so much that particular part of it. It would have been worth it if the wand had stayed buried on that deserted island.”

  “Yeah, it would have.”

  She tilted the seat forward so Cerbie could jump in back.

  Cerbie climbed into the back window. “Here come the hearse and mourners. Why don’t we just drive away and see what happens?” he asked.

  “Because unless everything has been placed in the grave to hold the box down, it will be back in the car in a shake and shiver,” Zaira replied.

  “Maybe with a fresh soul hanging over it, it won’t notice we’re gone,” he said.

  Chris got into the car.

  Zaira twisted around to look at Cerbie. “What do you mean a fresh soul?”

  “The fellow who’s passed away is still hanging around. He’s following his family up the hill to the gravesite.”

  “Oh, no. No-no-no-no.”

  “What’s happening?” Chris asked.

  “Cerbie says there’s a fresh soul hanging around the burial site. What did the document about the wand say about human souls?”

  His brows rose. “It didn’t say anything about them.”

  “What if it just goes into soul-swallowing mode?”

  Chris looked up the hill at the pallbearers carrying the coffin, a thoughtful frown tightening his mouth and brow.

  “It’s not like the guy’s going to climb into the grave and back into his body,” Cerbie said, sounding bored. “As long as he stays away from the wand, he’ll be okay.”

  Chris brushed her arm with a hand. “Someone has to direct the wand before it turns on, Zaira. I’m certain of it.”

  She drew a relieved breath. “That’s good.”

  The pallbearers made it to the top of the hill and set the casket on the supports. The mourners took their place in fold-out chairs beneath the small, open-sided tent. The minister took position before the casket and began the service.

  “Let’s go,” Cerbie urged.

  Chris reached for the key and started the car. He pulled around the narrow cemetery road and out the entrance. They remained silent as the miles passed.

  Zaira gave a sigh as the tension drained from her. This might actually work. Chris smiled and reached for her hand.

  She looked over her shoulder to find Cerbie stretched out in the back window, soaking up the sun.

  Five minutes later when he barked she thought he was dreaming. “It’s coming. It looks like a flying turd coming right at us.”

  Chris looked in the rearview mirror and his eyes widened. “Shit!”

  “See, I told you,” Cerbie answered.

  He stomped on the gas, and the Aston Martin took off like a rocket. Zaira tightened her seat belt and braced a hand on the dashboard while Chris took a deep curve at a hundred miles an hour. The box seemed to catch the flow of air over the vehicle and cruise along ten feet behind them. After five minutes of racing ahead of it and gaining no ground, Zaira placed a hand on Chris’s arm.

  “Stop. You’re not going to lose it.”

  He swore and pulled over into the emergency lane. He got out of the car and stood facing the hovering box with the door open.

  Zaira heard a high-pitched whine above the whoosh of passing traffic.

  “Yeah, yeah. Stop bitchin’ and get in the car.” He motioned to the back seat. It flew through the open space and landed in Zaira’s lap.” She automatically put a hand atop the lid. It vibrated beneath her touch.

  What if there was more to the wand than just being a weapon?

  * * *

  ZAIRA SHIFTED IN the bucket seat and stretched. They’d been traveling rural roads for hours. Between Cerbie’s hypnotic snoring rhythm in the back seat and the constant jiggle of the Aston Martin’s headlights as they jounced over the many potholes in the road, she could barely keep her eyes open.

  Chris looked disgustingly fresh and alert. She felt like a leftover slice of pizza left lying in the box for about a week.

  “We’re almost there,” he said breaking the silence.

  She voiced the fears plaguing them both. “If the Baba Yaga isn’t there, I don’t know what else to do. We can’t keep running. There’s no place else for us to go.”

  Chris lifted one hand off the wheel to reach for hers. “If news of the bounty has reached them, we might have to surrender. I heard this community is made up of nothing but preternatural beings, no humans.”

  “I heard that too.” She looked out the window as the first houses became visible.

  His fingers tightened on hers. “No matter what happens, I want you to know, these past two weeks has meant a great deal to me. They say when you travel with someone, you really get to know them.”

  They had gotten to know each other. Not just from sharing their woo-woo and her sensing things through her empathic connection. They’d talked about their pasts, their futures, and everything in between.

  “I think I’m going to barf,” Cerbie said from the back seat.

  “Shut up, Cerbie,” Zaira snapped.

  “No. I mean it. I think I’m going to barf.”

  “You’d better pull over Chris.”

  He eased car over and Cerbie had no more than jumped out that he began to gag and wretch.

  Once he’d calmed somewhat, Zaira picked him up and cradled him in her lap his head over her shoulder while she soothed him.

  “We’re all exhausted. What we need is a good night’s sleep,” Chris said. “Even me. Let’s see if there’s someplace for us to stay.”

  Zaira massaged Cerbie’s ears. It was a bit like cuddling an overstuffed roll pillow with legs. Not that she’d ever tell him that.

  He snuffled her neck.

  “Feeling better?”

  “Hum. The wand’s purring.”

  “Purring?”

  “Yeah.”

  This was getting stranger and stranger.

  * * *

  CHRIS HAD NEVER seen a town quite like Assjacket. Main Street consisted of a barbershop, a hardware store, a gas station, a grocery store, and little else. A theater was tucked away near the end of the block. In the town square, a huge statue of a bear standing on its hind legs provided a centerpiece. It was a shame someone had damaged it. One side of his head had been sheared away.

  As Chris turned down a side street, he heard music playing, and followed the sound. Couples were going into the back of the hardware store.

  “It must be a hardware store on one side of the block and a bar on the other,” Chris said. “Let’s stop and ask about the Baba Yaga.”

  “A bar? You really want to take the dragon by the tail don’t you?”

  “Bartenders and hairdressers know everything. And though I saw a barbershop, it wasn’t open.”

  He pulled the Aston Martin into the lot and parked.

  “Do you feel l
ike going in, Cerbie?” Zaira asked.

  The dog growled. Chris raised his brows in question.

  “He says he’s good. Maybe we can hit the diner down the street once we’re through here.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Chris handed her the wand for safekeeping while he lifted Cerbie out of the car and set him on his feet, smoothing the dog’s fur.

  Zaira looped her hand around his arm as they followed the little dog to the bar. “He’s a little embarrassed about getting carsick and losing his cookies.”

  “It happens to the best of us. He’s learned to tolerate me on this trip. Maybe once this is over we can go out to dinner or a movie, just the two of us, like a normal couple.”

  “I’d love that.” She fiercely hoped it would be a possibility.

  The interior of the bar was a great deal larger than it looked outside. The walls were paneled in warm wood. The bar, made of some dark wood gleamed with care, and the rows of bottles behind shone in a multitude of fall tones from red to gold and then some.

  Chris breathed in deep so he could check the scents around him. Shifters. Every patron was a Shifter. They wouldn’t like that a vampire had invaded their territory. He scanned the place for trouble.

  There was a brawny guy at the second table for the doorway eyeing them. Had to be a bear Shifter.

  The band was playing a country music tune, and the lead guitarist was belting the song out with all he had in a rich baritone. His thick black hair had a white stripe flowing from the center of his forehead straight back.

  A skunk Shifter, for certain. Even though the guy was singing, he was watching them.

  They approached the bar. “May I have a bowl of water for my dog?” Zaira asked.

  The bartender, a very large man who looked like he could act as barkeep and bouncer all in one, waited on Zaira, but eyed Chris with a wary look. “Certainly, little lady.” He filled and handed her the bowl.

  Chris took it from her and bent to offer it to Cerbie. The dog drank deeply. He left it and stood close so no one would step on their stubby hellhound and get their ankles bitten.

  “Can I get you anything else?”

  “We’re searching for someone who may be in the area on vacation. We were hoping she might have been in.”

  “Who might that be?”

  “The Baba Yaga.”

  Every voice stopped. The music echoed on the last note played then died away.

  “Who’s askin’?” The skunk Shifter, who played lead guitar, set aside his instrument, leapt down from the stage, and wandered over.

  Zaira glanced at Chris. He nodded. “I’m Zaira O’Shea, and this is Chris Bakas. We’ve recovered something that was taken from the Witch Council’s storage facility, and we want to return it to the Baba Yaga.”

  “There’s a bounty on your heads. You know that, don’t you?” he asked.

  “Yes, we know. There’s been something strange going on with the Council in her absence. It might be a hostile takeover. We want put the wand in her hands and no one else’s.”

  “Shit! Carol’s going to be so pissed.”

  Chris couldn’t allow Zaira to take full responsibility. He was the one who’d taken the wand. “The Vampire Council may have found out about it and are trying to take advantage. They’re not far behind. If you know where the Baba Yaga is, you need to get word to her right away.”

  The skunk Shifter called two young men over. “Go up to Zelda’s house and tell Fabio what’s going on. He’ll know how to contact Carol.”

  The sound of metal bending and glass breaking came from the parking lot, and many Shifters headed for the door.

  Chris grasped Zaira’s arm and pulled her close, the wand between them. “This is probably it, Zaira. I’ll try to protect you in every way I can, but if something should happen to me, teleport out of here. Keep you and Cerbie safe. And whatever else happens, keep the wand out of their hands.”

  “We’ll stand together. They can’t harm us if we stand together.”

  If only that were true. Chris kissed her to reassure her, but a feeling of dread settled in his stomach. They stayed close together while they followed the rest of the Shifters outside.

  Chris’s Aston Martin had been crushed against the side of a pickup by a large black limousine. Zaira actually groaned when she saw it. “As much as I’ve wanted out of that car for the last week, it hurts to see it trashed.”

  He felt a little sick himself over what they’d done to his ride.

  Seven vampires climbed out of the limo—Adcock, his minions on the Council, and his two large goons.

  The seven vampires ignored the large group of Shifters as if they weren’t there. “We want the wand, Christophe. Hand it over.”

  “I can’t do that, Adcock.”

  A wave of snickering erupted around them.

  “Did you have to add one to make sure you had one?” a voice jeered from the back of the group.

  “Oh, shit!” Chris muttered. “He hates that.”

  Adcock looked around, his eyes glowing red. “Once I have the wand in hand, I will deal with whoever said that.”

  “Bring it on, Barnabas,” another said closer to the front.

  “Boris. He looks more like a Boris. As in bore us to death.”

  “Naw, I’d say Bunnicula, if it wouldn’t give rabbits a bad name.”

  Several snickers followed that one.

  “They’re stalling,” Zaira whispered. “Trying to give Baba Yaga time to get here.”

  Chris nodded. “It might work for a few of minutes, but not long.”

  Adcock made a movement with his hand. One of his goons leaped toward them.

  Zaira threw up a hand and suspended the vampire in midair. Chris sprang up and kicked him in the stomach with both feet, sending him back the way he’d come. The vampires scattered. The goon struck the hood of the limo like a bolder, making a large dent and cracking the windshield. Chris did a graceful flip and landed on his feet a short distance away.

  “Make them seize,

  Make them sneeze,

  Make them unable to bend their knees,

  And while they wheeze,

  Make them freeze.

  So mote it beeze.”

  Zaira chanted as she threw out a wave of blue-green power.

  The seven vampires started seizing and sneezing, but their feet seemed to be stuck to the asphalt.

  “How long will that last?” Chris asked.

  A burst of power hit Zaira, throwing her back and slamming her to the ground. Chris sped to her and felt the heat of a fireball whip past him. It exploded as it hit the parking lot, setting two cars on fire. Shifters scattered. Some ran to move their vehicles so they wouldn’t be damaged in the conflagration.

  Zaira lay unconscious, her face pale, a large knot forming on the side of her head just above her ear. Cerbie waddled-ran to her side and began shedding some kind of power as he stood over her.

  Chris prayed to the Goddess she’d be okay. “Get out of here,” he yelled at the remaining Shifters. “This isn’t your fight.” Some left, while others stood their ground.

  Glendora and her warlock minions stood once again united. They stretched out in a line next to the vampires, who had stopped sneezing and were no longer frozen, now Zaira was unconscious. It seemed the lot of them had banded together to get the wand at any cost.

  A ball of power was lobbed at him by one of the warlocks. Chris scooped up the wand in its container and turned to face the threat, striking out at it like the box was a bat. The prickly ball of static ricocheted back, right in the midst of the vampires. Two of the Council members and one of the goons fell beneath it like pins before a bowling ball.

  “Thank you Chris. You’re narrowing the field by taking out your own people,” Glendora said with a smile.

  “I’ll take the rest of you out as well. You’re not getting your hands on this wand. You’ll destroy us all.”

  “You can’t fight all of us off at the same time. We�
��ll get it one way or another.”

  “Not while there’s life left in my body.”

  Zaira groaned behind him and he sensed her movement.

  “Get him!” Glendora yelled, throwing out a hand in his direction.

  The remaining goons rushed forward, as did three other vampires. Two of the warlocks joined in. Chris leaped on top of one of the remaining cars and rushed to the next, and the next, with the others racing after him. He landed on a truck.

  The huge, muscle-bound goon vampire was faster than he looked. He was suddenly there in front of Chris, dragging him off the vehicle by the ankle. Chris landed on his shoulder and felt the bone break. His arm went numb. He gripped the box with his remaining hand as tightly as he could, but it was wrenched from him.

  “This is for Marion,” the goon said in a high–pitched, girlish voice. He stomped him in the stomach, then kicked him in the back just over his kidney.

  The pain drove his vision to white. Had he needed to breathe, he’d never have been able manage it.

  Two of the cadaverous Vampire Council members dragged him to his feet, none too gently, and frog-marched him back to where he’d started. He bit back a groan as they threw him down on the ground beside Zaira.

  She was sitting up, and the large bump seemed to have receded, but two of the Witch Council stood over her so she couldn’t get to her feet. Cerbie lay next to her on his side, his limbs limp with exhaustion. He must have healed her.

  Archie had somehow gained control of the box. He held it on each end while Glendora eased the top open. She removed the wand and ran her fingertips over its carvings with a great show of interest.

  As she stood over the two of them, her soulless grin brought a hollow feeling to his stomach. He looked up at Adcock. “You’d better run. She’s going to turn it on all of you once she’s through with us.”

  The other vampire flicked a glance at Glendora, wariness in his gaze.

  “Not so, Christophe. But the first one who’ll die is that traitorous bitch, Zaira. We have to set an example so no other witch or warlock will ever defy the Council again.”

  Chris slipped an arm around Zaira, and she rested her head against his shoulder. Her skin looked milky white, and her hazel gaze held steady on his. “I love you, Chris.”

  The warlocks and vampires shifted away from Glendora, their anxious attention directed at the weapon in her hand. She came to stand over him and Zaira. She interrupted before he could say anything. “This wand hasn’t been used in nearly four hundred years. You should feel honored to be the first to be sacrificed to it in such a long time.”