Later Gator

by Julia Mills

  Looking around, forcing myself not to tap my toes as Bobby Darin was replaced by Wayne Newton and the band started playing ‘Danke Schoen’, I summoned all the control I had and some from my Gator who was raring to pop back out and tear the Whopping Wanda to shreds, I decided to play her game. “Tell me, Wanda, what’s a hot dame like you doin’ in a place like this?”

  Chapter Ten

  Released from the goop holding my feet hostage with a snap of Wanda’s fingers, I figured I was heading in the right direction and just kept going. Following her into the club while reaching for Faith’s mind, I nearly stumbled with relief as I was finally able to ask my feisty Witch, “Are you okay?”

  “First of all, I hate the whole talking-mind-to-mind thing. I’m pretty sure you know that.”

  “Okay, Miss Sassy Pants, how else would you like me to talk to you in our present situation?” (Even in wherever the hell we were, Faith and I found a way to argue, Go figure.) “Got a better idea?”

  "Sorry, Gator Butt. That wasn't nice, and you're right."

  Had I been anywhere, I am sure I would've fallen to my knees or at the very least clutched my chest. My Mate, the most obstinate, gorgeous, infuriating, and amazing woman on the planet had not only apologized to me but had also admitted she was wrong. Put a gold star on the calendar ‘cause this day may never come again.

  Being as calm as I could, not even the slightest bit irritated by the new nickname she'd come up with for me, I replied, “I’m sorry, too.” (See, I can be gracious.) “That was a stupid question.”

  “No worries. I would’ve done the same thing.” There was a slight pause and then she added, “Any idea why we’re here? And why the crazy whodoo lady wants to kill me?”

  “Not a one,” I sadly replied, dividing my attention between Faith and Wanda. “Does the name Wanda mean anything to you?”

  “My mom used to have a friend named Wanda, but that was when I was a little girl. We moved, mom got sick, and I never saw or heard of her again.”

  “Think this could be her?” I pushed more magic into our Mating Bond and opened my vision to Faith so she could see the ‘dolled-up’ version of Wanda Wiggley and waited.

  “Yeah, I guess. I mean the Wanda I knew did have blond hair, but those bazongas are all new and improved.”

  “Alright, you hang in there…oh damn… I mean…”

  “Don’t worry about it, Beau,” Faith chuckled, the sound of her name on my lips doing all kinds of crazy things to my heart and my Gator. “I would’ve said the same thing.”

  "Yeah, well, what I meant to say is I'm gonna find a way outta this shithole, and while I do it, I'm leaving my sight and hearing open to you. Just holler if you think of anything that'll help."

  “You got it, Sherriff.”

  Listening to Faith’s chuckle in the back of my mind, I tuned back into Wanda who was prattling on and on about only the good Lord knew. As soon as she took a breath, I asked, “Where exactly are we, Miss Wiggley?”

  Patting my hand and running her hand up my arm and across my shoulders, she cozied closer and cooed, "Why Darlin', we're in Club CopacaNetherworld."

  “Oh shit, Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit…” Faith continued to curse in the back of my mind, but I was too busy trying to get information out of Wanda to stop and ask what she knew.

  Forging on, I asked, “And that is?”

  “Well it’s the second-to-the-last stop for witches and warlocks with, shall we say, less than sparkling track records in the ‘doing no harm to others and protecting all creatures great and small’ department. It gives us a chance to redeem ourselves before our final judgment."

  “And you ended up here because…?”

  “Do not ask that…oh shit, you asked that question,” Faith was now screaming, her anger and fear for my wellbeing was nice – really nice, but entirely knockin' me off my game.

  Watching Wanda’s face turn an especially violent color of violet and her hair grow ten times in size without the assistance of Aqua Net, her curls turning into bleached-blond snakes, I knew what Faith was trying to warn me about. However, it was too late. Time to come up with Plan B, but first I needed intel.

  “What is going on, Faith? What does Club CopacaNetherworld mean to you? Why is Dolly Parton’s lookalike blowing a stack? Throw me a bone, Baby. I need to know what’s happening.”

  Talking so fast most of the words ran together, and of the ones I could make out, I only understood about half, my Witch rattled, “Club CopacaNetherworld is where Harmony met Nate and Nate hitched a ride out and tried to kill her. The Witches and Warlocks in Club CopacaNetherworld are the baddest of bad, and they cannot be trusted, and you are in danger because of me, and you need to get the hell outta dodge.”

  “I’m in trouble because of you? Stop that shit right there. We’re in this together.”

  "No, no, no, no. I know who she is. I know what's happening. This is me, this is all my fucked up family and me."

  I wanted to answer and reassure her, I really did, but at that very moment Psychotic Crazy Witch Wanda was about to blow, and it seemed to me that I had to get her calmed down before we all ended up a pile of gooey ashes.

  “Miss Wiggley…? Wanda...? Ma’am…?” I used my best talk-the-kitten-outta-the tree voice. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. What can I do to make it up to you?”

  (You should know that there is nothing, and I mean not-a-damn-thing, that my Gator hates more than groveling. It is his pet peeve. The one thing that makes him unreasonably irate and this time was no exception. Thankfully, I mean I guess it was thankfully, Wanda’s magic was keeping him locked away. Wish it would’ve also kept him from kicking the shit outta my insides.)

  Still pleading with my not-so-happy hostess/captor, I worked hard not to flinch as Gator was abusing me and reaching for her hand, pretty much begged, "How about we have a drink and get to know each other?"

  And those were the magic words. In the blink of an eye, Wanda was back to Marilyn-lookalike, and we were walking towards the table at the front of the stage with a sign that said: "Reserved". Holding out the chair for Wanda, I was rewarded with a change of clothes. Gone were my jeans and T-shirt, replaced with a tux, white, starched shirt, bow tie and high-polished, black patent leather shoes.

  “I will rip that psychotic Witch a new one if she so much as lays a hand on you,” Faith growled, making me smile.

  “Don’t worry. I only have eyes for one Witch, even if she is a pain in the tail,” I teased as I took my seat beside Wanda and Faith grumbled something that sounded like, “Yeah, well, I owe for this whole damn mess. I mean owe b-i-g time.”

  “Can you at least tell me who Harmony is?”

  “My half-sister, and…”

  “Another sister? How many do you have?” I interrupted when I should’ve been listening, something that bit me in the ass.

  “There’s a shit ton of us. Dad took the words of the Good Book seriously when it said, be fruitful and multiply, but that’s not really what you need to know. You need…”

  “Hang on, Hun. I have to get back to Wanda here and find out what I can.”

  “But I can…”

  “I got this.”

  “You are the most arrogant, pig-headed…”

  And that’s where I tuned her out. There were things to get done, and I knew I could make it up to my sexy Witch when we were home safe. Going on with my plan of saving the day, with Faith furiously grumbling in the back of my mind, I signaled for the waitress and asked Wanda, “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Dirty martini, three olives, Doll.” Her hand on my leg made me uncomfortable and made Faith’s grumbles turn into snarls about the Witch beside me. “Bitch is gonna lose that hand,” so, to keep the peace, I made a show of unbuttoning my jacket while brushing Wanda’s hand off my thigh.

  As soon as I could once again hear, (Faith is quite vocal which I know Y'all have already found out, but it bared repeating in this case.) I asked, "So, tell me about this
place. I know you don't belong here."

  Straightening her spine and pushing out her chest, Wanda’s eyes got as big as saucers as she turned in her seat to face me, batted her eyes and with an innocent look on her face, pouted, “You are so right, Darlin’. I did nothing wrong, nothing at all and that stupid cow, Dahlia, took pleasure in throwing me here in this pit and leavin’ me to rot.”

  Pausing while the waitress brought Wanda’s martini and my beer, I waited until I was sure we were alone before asking, “So, who is or was this Dahlia? How did she have the power to toss a Witch as magical as you here in CopacaNetherworld?”

  Narrowing her eyes, she glared at me over the rim of her glass as she took a sip of her martini. Making a show of setting her drink on the table and straightening her napkin, Wanda looked up through her long, black, false eyelashes and asked in a breathy tone, “Sugar, are you sure you haven’t heard this story?” Reaching towards me, she laid her hand on my chest and with her index finger played with my bow tie as she added, “I would’ve thought your Mate would’ve told you all about her momma, Dahlia Fairyflower, the Enforcer of the Witch’s Council, right-hand bitch to that cow, the Grand Priestess, Calysta.”

  As shocked as I was at learning that Faith’s mom was so well connected within the Witch community and had been inadvertently responsible for the predicament we were in, it was my snappy Mate’s sing-songy taunts of, “See? You should’ve listened to me,” that made me feel like the real asshole I knew she'd called me more than one time.

  Acting surprised at Wanda's revelation wasn't hard, because, well, I was as flabbergasted as I'd ever been. "No, ma'am." I made a show out of crossing my heart with my finger. "I swear to the Goddess that I had no idea who Faith's momma or what her position within the Witch's Council was." Pushing a little harder to be sure she believed me, I added, "Hell, Miss Wanda, I didn't even know the woman's name ‘til it came outta your mouth."

  "No, you don't say?" She gasped, laying her hand over her heart and tsking like an old lady at a burlesque revue. "I'm so very sorry to be the one to tell you. It just breaks my heart." She added a sob, even dabbed at the corner of her completely dry eye for show as she went on, "I mean, it is a sad shame that Faith has been keepin' secrets from you."

  Dropping her hand from her chest right onto my thigh, she leaned forward and whispered, "So, now you see why I have to kill her. Someone has to pay for what I've been made to suffer, and since Dahlia is dead and gone, that only leaves her bratty little girl."

  Knowing I was at a crossroads with Wanda and the whole kill-my-Mate situation, I chose my next words very carefully. Picking up my beer and taking a long drink, I suddenly had an idea. Setting the bottle on the table, I nodded and asked, “So, why did you need me here, Wanda? What can I do to help make all this right for you?”

  Bingo! I could see from the gleam in her eye and the curl of her blood-red lips that I had asked the right question. What I didn’t count on was her answer.

  “I’m so glad you asked, Beauregard.” Still playing with my tie, she leaned even closer, gave a long, slow bat of her eyes and then with satisfaction that could have only come from thinking she was gonna get her way, Miss Wanda Wiggley sneered, “Why Darlin’, I need you to be the one to kill Faith. It’s the way it has to be to break the spell.”

  Son of a bitch, when will I ever learn to listen?

  Faith

  Chapter Eleven

  “I told you. I told you. I told you.” Sure, I should've been helping or at the very least thinking of a way to help, but I did tell my pain-in-the-butt Mate and should have listened to me. More to add to the list of things we’re gonna have to work on. (Okay, okay, okay, I’ll admit. I’ve changed my mind. I like…am maybe even falling in love with the big lug. So, sue me. I could blame it on Fate and Destiny, but we all know it’s because he’s a big burly marshmallow, who would do anything for me, and…his one good-lookin’ Gator. Ahem. But I digress.)

  “You want me to kill Faith and then bust you outta this…this…” Beau stumbled and stammered, his mind whipping one way and then another trying to come up with a way to get his ass outta the sling he’s land right in the middle of.

  Of course, Wanda was still prattling on, “Well, absolutely, Dearie. Then you and I will boot-scoot right outta here.”

  While Beau keeping the Wicked Witch of the… Well, I didn’t really know where she was from, just that she was wicked and evil and had tried to kill not only my mom, but Calysta, Rosie’s mom, Daisy’s mom, and any other Witch she could find who had suffered the misfortune of making a baby with Nate the Bastard.

  The story I got when I was still pretty young before my mom passed away, was that Wanda carried a crush the size of the Grand Canyon for Nate the Asshole. Sure, she was going to be one of the women he bedded, she lost her ever-lovin' mind when he disappeared without a trace.

  Apparently, Wanda the Wench heard through the Witchy grapevine that he was thrown into the CopacaNetherworld for his crimes. As you can imagine, she freaked the heck out and went on what we Witches call a ‘Cast and Crash’ – attacking every woman who’d ever ‘known’ Nate the Bastard.

  By the time she got to my mom, Calysta, and the Witches Council, they were ready for her. By all accounts, the fight was over before it got started. A pissed-off, cursing Wanda was wrapped up tight in iron chains and shackles and stood trial before the Council that very day.

  Pronounced guilty by a unanimous vote and also found ‘Unredeemable’, (It’s another Witches thing. If the Council thinks a Witch can’t be rehabilitated, but they still don’t want to throw her straight into Hell, it’s Club CopacaNetherworld for her sorry ass. I think they should just toss them all in the deepest, darkest Pit in Hell, but I may be just a tad bias.) Wanda landed in Witchy Purgatory and has been there ever since.

  Now, you would think that having been reunited with Nate the Bastard she would be happy as a pig in shit, right? See, here’s the thing, we Witches are a spiteful lot. We really like to make sure our bad girls and boys are punished to the fullest extent of our ability. Which means, even though Wanda and Nate were both in Club CopacaNetherworld, they couldn’t see each other, couldn’t touch, couldn’t even use our kooky telepathy thing to speak to one another.

  Nate the Bastard was okay with the situation because let's face it, he never liked Wanda, hadn't given her a thought since he dismissed her in one cruel way or another. But, the buxom bitch holding Dru and me hostage and fondling my Mate, went even crazier than she already was. Hence, the situation we now find ourselves in.

  Speaking of Dru, turning my head the best I could with three-inch, iron shackle burning the skin right off my neck, I was forced to use that blasted mindspeak and call to her, “Dru? Druan…? I’m sorry, I can’t say it. Dru, please wake up?”

  Frustrated as hell and feeling like the biggest loser on the planet, I shoved the tiny bit of magic not sucked from my veins by whatever spell Wanda the Wench had used into my little buddy. (Do not tell her I called her that. She will fry my eyebrows right off, and then it will be your fault when all the Hairy Wartians point and laugh.)

  Still unmoving, the sparkle gone from her ruby red scales, little Dru looked like one of those stuffed toys hanging on those hooks in Toys’R’Stupid or whatever the name of that store is. Rage filled my body. Puce bubbles and misshapen blobs of barf-green sparkly shit floated and popped before my eyes. Maroon smoke flowed from my fingertips as the scent of burnt hair filled the dingy cell my little Dragon and I hung in. I was pissed. Really, honest-to-the-Goddess furious, and I was gonna find a way outta this heap of magical shit I’d landed in even if it was the last thing I ever did.

  Once again forced to use my mind-walkie-talkie, (Guess it's time to get the hell over my phobias and embrace this creepy form of conversation. Just another thing I'm kicking Wanda's ass for!) I shoved my ugly, stinky, rage-filled enchantment into the bond I shared with my sisters and screamed, “Whoopie Pie! Whoopie Pie! Whoopie Pie!”

  Over and over
I screamed what Daisy called our ‘Sisterly Safe Word’ until my head was pounding, blood was filling my palms from where my nails had dug into the skin, and Beau was growling in my head, “What the hell, Faith? Have you lost your Witchy mind?”

  Ignoring my Gator because, well, I just didn't have time to deal with him, I had to get us out of Club CopacaNetherworld before Dru was too far gone. I couldn't let her die. Yes, she was overbearing and bossy – but so was I. Sure, she could be sarcastic – but so could I. Yeah, she had scared the crap outta me when we first met and almost turned me into Burnt Witch Surprise – but I would've done the same thing had I been in her shoes. In a nutshell, Dru and I went together like peas and carrots, she and her sisters were now part of the family, just like that bullheaded Gator of mine, and where family's concerned, there is NOTHING I won't do to keep them safe.

  Giving one final push, I bellowed, “Whoopie Pie Supreme with whipped cream and a cherry!” (Hey, this is what happens when we let Daisy pick our signals. Lessons learned, just a little too late.)

  Silence, even from Beau who I thought would never hush it up, echoed through my brain. It kinda felt like my mind had turned into one of those black holes in deep space - nada, nothing, a complete void. (You better not be laughing. I have a wand, and I know how to use it.)

  Waiting, praying, hoping for help from my sisters more than I’d ever hoped for anything, I nearly jumped outta my skin as a tingling sensation, not unlike feathers being lightly stroked across my skin, danced up my arms and down my spine. A bright pink bubble, barely the size of a dime, landed on my right on the tip of my nose, teetering for a second or two before popping and filling my prison with the scent of home-baked peanut butter cookies.