Misadventures of a Tongue-Tied Witch: Boxed Set Humorous Witch Series

by Livia J. Washburn

  “Angela!” Donovan appeared behind her, wrapped his left arm around her waist, and clapped his right hand over her mouth. He stared past her shoulder at me and exclaimed, “Aren!”

  Before he could say anything else or I could respond, Angela twisted violently in his grip and jammed her elbow back into his midsection. That knocked him away from her. As she started to turn back to me, he yelled, “Aren, get out of here!”

  “A prison of force from the night so blue, form around her, make it true!” I sang loudly as I thrust a hand toward Angela.

  Instantly, a dark bubble appeared on Donovan’s front porch, completely enclosing Angela.

  “Oh, spit!” Taylor said. “I think I wet myself.”

  The dark sphere began to tremble, like a soap bubble about to burst. Donovan raised both hands toward it and scowled.

  “Imprison this one – ” he began, but he didn’t get to finish whatever spell he was going to cast because at that instant Angela broke free. The sphere burst apart with so much force that Donovan was thrown backward and Taylor and I were knocked to our knees, even though the explosion was noiseless.

  There was no time to even think about the revelation that Donovan was a warlock. Physical force had worked on Angela before. She was taller than me but I outweighed her a little. I wasn’t sure I was a match for her when it came to witchcraft. In fact, I was pretty confident that I wasn’t.

  So while she still seemed a little dazed by the effort to break free from the sphere of darkness in which I’d trapped her, I pushed myself to hands and knees and then scrambled toward her, launching myself in a diving tackle while I was still several feet away.

  I caught her around the knees and rammed into her legs. She cried out as she went over backward. Donovan lay beyond her in the doorway, unmoving. I didn’t know if he was just stunned, or if the explosion had killed him. At that moment I was gripped with a primal fury I hadn’t known that I possessed. I clambered on top of Angela and started hitting her, pounding her with my fists as I sobbed, “You bitch! You bitch!” I may have said even worse. I don’t really remember.

  I don’t know how long I continued punching her, either. I didn’t stop until Taylor grabbed me from behind, under my arms, and pulled me away.

  “Stop it, Aren!” she said. “Stop it! You’re going to kill her!”

  That was exactly what Angela had tried to do to me, and once she had disposed of me, she probably would have killed Taylor, too. But Taylor didn’t know that, any more than she knew that witches were real and I was one of them.

  Until now, she hadn’t known that.

  She dragged me back a few feet, and we wound up sitting on the flagstone walk. My back was to Taylor, and her arms were around my midsection. She gasped, “What…what was that? Are you some sort of…wizard?”

  “Wizards…phhht! That was the real thing. W-witchcraft!”

  Taylor moaned, obviously not wanting to accept what she had just seen with her own eyes.

  I was looking at Donovan, and I saw him lift his head and give it a little shake. He was alive!

  I broke free of Taylor’s grip and crawled toward him, past Angela’s unconscious form. Some blood had leaked from her nose, I saw, and I felt a fierce surge of satisfaction at the sight.

  When I reached Donovan, I sat with him and pulled his head into my lap. Leaning over him, I said, “Donovan! Donovan!”

  In this moment of stress, my stammer had practically disappeared, which was just the opposite of what usually happened. Maybe I had never been quite this upset before.

  His eyelids fluttered a few times and then opened wide. He started to sit up but winced and sagged back.

  “Don’t move,” I told him. “You might be hurt.”

  “I’m…all right,” he said. “I just got…the breath knocked out of me. Angela…?”

  “She’s out cold,” I said. I hoped that was true and that she wouldn’t regain consciousness with no warning. She hadn’t stirred since Taylor had pulled me away from her. She was lying on her back, and I could see her chest rising and falling slightly as she breathed, so I knew she was still alive.

  Donovan groaned, and this time when he tried to sit up he made it, even though I urged him to rest.

  “There’s no time,” he said. “I’ve got to get some wards on her so she can’t cast any spells. If I don’t, there’s no telling what she’ll do.”

  “She’ll try to kill me again, that’s what she’ll do,” I said. “That’s what she’s been trying to do for a couple of d-days now, when she wasn’t possessing that poor cat and sp-spying on me!”

  “Cat?” he repeated as he stared at me. “You mean Matilda? She was…Oh, good Lord! Why didn’t I sense it?”

  “Because she’s powerful. Too powerful for a witch like me.” My voice hardened and grew cold. “Or a warlock like you, from the looks of it.”

  Donovan started to shake his head and said, “Aren, I can explain – ”

  “Witches?” Taylor said from where she sat a few yards away with a stricken expression on her face. “You people are really witches?”

  “That’s your roommate…” Donovan hesitated.

  “Taylor,” I told reminded him.

  “This isn’t good.”

  “You th-think?” The look I gave him was withering. At least it was meant to be.

  He turned to Angela, laid a hand on her shoulder, and said, “Let this one now fade to sleep, in a slumber dark and deep, until such time I shall awake her, until then let darkness take her!”

  I didn’t see any change in Angela, but somehow I knew she wasn’t going to be waking without any warning. I stared at Donovan and said, “You didn’t use a p-power sanction.”

  He shrugged. “You don’t always have to. There are ways around that requirement.”

  I realized then that he knew a lot more about what he was doing than I did. But that wasn’t really a surprise. I had pretty much ignored witchcraft all my life. I knew my parents and my brother had powers, but what did it have to do with me? I was just the poor little stuttering girl who had trouble just talking, let alone casting a spell.

  “You l-l-lied to me,” I said coldly.

  “I didn’t have any choice,” he snapped. “You think I wanted to?”

  “I think you wanted something, all right. And you got it, didn’t you?”

  “Witches?” Taylor said again, her voice tiny, as Donovan and I glared at each other in angry silence.

  Finally he pushed himself to his feet. “We need to get her inside. Once she can’t hurt anybody, I’ll explain everything.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to be p-possible.”

  He held out a hand to help me up. I hesitated but then grasped it. His touch didn’t seem nearly as warm and soft as it had the last time I had gripped his hand.

  “We need to bring your friend in, too,” he said.

  “Of course. I’ll do that.”

  I went over to Taylor and took her arm, gently urging her to her feet. “We need to go in the house, Taylor,” I told her.

  She looked at me and whispered, “Real witches?”

  “Come on. We’ll talk about it.”

  Meanwhile, Donovan picked up Angela, seemingly without much effort, and draped her sleeping form over his shoulder. He carried her into the guest house. I was glad we were back here behind the mansion. At least that way no one in the cars passing by on Ocean Drive could see what was going on. It must have looked pretty suspicious.

  Taylor stumbled a little. She was still wearing heels and the suit she’d worn to the office today, not a good outfit for unwittingly getting caught in the middle of a mystical battle between good and evil. My grip on her arm kept her from tripping as we followed Donovan and Angela into the house. I pushed the door closed behind us with my foot.

  Donovan stretched Angela out on the sofa in his living room. He straightened, turned to me, and nodded toward Taylor.

  “I can cast a spell of forgetfulness – ”

  “N
o,” I cut in. “Not just no, hell, no. You’re not m-messing around with my friend’s mind.” My jaw tightened with anger and hurt, so that I had to force the next words out. “Like you’ve been messing around with mine.”

  “Aren, I didn’t – ”

  “You didn’t cast a spell to make me fall in love with you?” I demanded. “I knew things were going too f-fast, I just knew it! My mind kept trying to tell me I wasn’t acting like myself at all, but I ignored it. I wanted so bad to f-feel what I was feeling – ” I stopped short as my eyes widened in realization. “You cast a horniness spell on me!”

  I didn’t even know if there was such a thing as a horniness spell, but it seemed logical enough. There were spells for just about everything else.

  “Aren, you just need to let me explain,” he said. He looked at Taylor again. “But I’m not sure a human should be hearing all this. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s forbidden.”

  “Human,” Taylor squeaked. She sank down in an armchair. “I’m just a human. And there are real witches.”

  “Look, there are a lot of things going on that you don’t know about,” Donovan said. “But if you’ll get your friend out of here, I’ll tell you the truth. You can’t let her leave having seen and heard the things she has, though.”

  “What are you going to do? Banish her to some other dimension?”

  When I saw the way his eyes turned to cold, hard pieces of flint, I wished I hadn’t said that. It looked like I had given him an idea.

  “I won’t hurt her unless I have to,” he said. “But the stakes are too high to play around here, Aren, as you’d know if you’d let me explain.”

  “You’re not really a financial planner, are you?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am.”

  “What do you do, use your p-powers to manipulate the stock market?”

  He grunted. “Some things are beyond even the power of witchcraft. Wall Street is one of them.”

  I was putting things together in my mind, pieces of the puzzle rapidly falling into place now. “You called and said you couldn’t come over tonight because the ward was on the door. You showed up and realized you couldn’t get in.”

  “Who did that, your father?” He shrugged. “I could’ve gotten past it if I’d wanted to.”

  His casual arrogance infuriated me. “Don’t you dare insult my father’s spells, you…you…”

  He took a step toward me and said, “Aren, we really have to deal with this problem before it’s too late.” He reached out for me.

  I pulled away from him. “Too late for what?” I asked. “Too late for me to find out that you’re a manipulative l-l-liar?”

  “I just want to tell you what’s been going on. I’ve wanted to tell you right from the start.”

  “Is that so?” I pointed to the sofa where Angela lay, still trapped in the deep sleep where Donovan had placed her. “Why don’t you start with h-her? What’s she to you?”

  I don’t know what he might have said, because before he could reply, the front door swung open. We all turned our heads to look at the woman standing there. She was middle-aged and very attractive, with light brown hair done in a short, stylish cut. Her dress was elegant and obviously expensive, short enough to show off good legs, and her Italian shoes probably cost more than I could earn in a year of temp jobs. She smiled at us as she sauntered into the room and said, “Well, Donovan, go ahead and answer the poor girl’s question. Tell her what Angela is to you.”

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” he said.

  “But I obviously am, aren’t I? Since you can’t be depended upon to handle matters.”

  From the armchair, Taylor whimpered, “Another one.”

  I had a feeling she was right, because I was certain I knew who this woman was.

  “You’re Donovan’s m-mother, aren’t you?” I asked.

  She turned that ironic, frightening smile on me and said, “Of course, I am, my dear. And that…” She moved a perfectly manicured hand in a languid wave toward Angela. “That is his fiancée.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  I felt like I had been on the receiving end of one of those punches I’d thrown at Angela. I staggered like I’d been hit. And in the pit of my stomach was a sick feeling unlike any I had ever known before.

  I turned to Donovan and husked, “Is it true?”

  “Aren, you really don’t understand – ”

  My voice rose. “Is it true?”

  “Technically, yes,” he said with a sigh.

  With an effort, I stiffened my spine and stood up as straight as I could. The damage had been done, and all I could do now was try to survive it.

  “I’ve heard all that I need to hear,” I told him. “I don’t know what this was all about, but from now on, just keep her away from me. She doesn’t have any reason to be jealous, because I never want to see you again.” I started toward the door. “Come on, Taylor.”

  Donovan’s mother was blocking my way, though. Still smiling – or smirking, was more like it – she shook her head and said, “I’m afraid it’s not that simple.”

  Her hand came up, and suddenly I was flying backward. I slammed into another chair so hard that it slid back several feet on the hardwood floor, but the thick upholstery kept the impact from injuring me. When the chair came to a stop, I found myself trapped in it, unable to move even though there was nothing visible holding me.

  And she had done that without even casting an audible spell, I thought. I was in way over my head.

  “Mother!” Donovan said as he started toward me. “You can’t – ”

  “I can do anything I want dear, and you know it,” she said. She turned toward Taylor. “I’m going to start by wiping this one’s brain nice and clean.”

  “No!” Donovan and I cried at the same time. I knew she wasn’t going to listen to me, but she might pay more attention to him, I thought. I begged, “Donovan, don’t let her do it!”

  She looked coldly at me and said, “Hush.”

  “Mother, you have to stop,” he said. “If you don’t…I won’t help you get what you want.”

  “Do you think I actually need your help?” she asked.

  “Maybe not, but it’ll be easier with me on your side and you know it. Besides, I’ve done everything you asked me to do so far. You owe me.”

  “I gave you life,” she snapped. “I think that takes care of anything I owe you.”

  “I’m asking you,” he said. “Please.”

  She seemed to be thinking it over, and after a long moment that seemed even longer, she finally shrugged.

  “I suppose I could do something less…intrusive, shall we say…so that the human can still function.”

  “Thank you,” Donovan said. “Now, can you please let Aren go?”

  “No,” she said flatly. “I won’t risk it.”

  I tried to open my mouth, thinking that maybe I could sing some sort of spell to fight back against her. I’d probably lose, but I was too upset not to want to stand up to her. My jaw wouldn’t move, though. Now it was as paralyzed as the rest of me.

  “At least let me tell her what this is all about,” he said. “Maybe once she understands, we can work something out.”

  His mother heaved an exasperated sigh. “Oh, all right,” she said. “You can try. But I warn you…I’ll do what needs to be done.”

  “Fine, just give me a few minutes.”

  “Go ahead, but I’m not leaving.”

  Donovan came over to kneel in front of the chair where I was trapped. “Look, I want you to know that none of this was my idea, Aren,” he said. “Well, some of it was, later on, but at first…” He stopped, wearily rubbed a hand over his face, and then started again. “Do you know about the curse that was put on you?”

  “She can’t answer you or even nod, darling,” his mother said. “But she’s bound to know about it. She went running to her parents’ house on Halloween after Angela’s little ploy backfired. I’m sure Edward and Sandra told her all about
the sacrifice they made to save their little girl.”

  He looked over his shoulder at her and snapped, “You don’t have to be so snide about it.”

  She just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  He turned back to me and went on, “All right, I’m going to assume you know about your powers and the curse the witches’ council put on you when you were little to make sure you never used them. Well, over the years, each member of the council has been assigned the task of monitoring the situation, on a rotating basis. Keeping an eye on you, I guess you’d call it. Just to make sure the curse worked.” He glanced over his shoulder again. “Then the job came around to my mother.”

  “I was the last one on the list because I was one of the council members who never wanted to put the curse on you in the first place,” she said. “It would been much more effective and much simpler in the long run to dispose of you in a more permanent manner.”

  “Mother,” Donovan said through clenched teeth.

  “Oh, all right, go on, go on.”

  He looked at me again. “She figured I could do the job for her. So I started keeping an eye on you. And that bothered Angela.”

  Your fiancée, I thought bitterly, even though I couldn’t say it.

  As if he’d read my mind, he said, “We’ve been engaged for a long time. It was an arranged marriage, I guess you’d call it. Her father is a member of the council, just like my mother is. Only he never let her in on all the details of the council’s activities. She didn’t know anything about you. All she knew was that suddenly I was paying a lot of attention to an apparently human female, and it bothered her.” He sighed. “Angela’s not the most…stable…person.”

  I thought about all the kinky stuff I’d seen in her condo, and about her involvement with Ronnie Holt, and I decided he was being kind to Angela. She wasn’t stable, and she wasn’t faithful to her fiancée, either.

  Although it still hurt to think about him being engaged to her.

  “You didn’t know it, but I’d put spells in place to keep me informed about all your activities,” he continued. “But when Angela decided to try to find out about you, she deactivated some of them without me catching on. She’s talented, I have to give her that. Then she used her powers to make sure you were sent to that entertainment agency and that you got the telegram to deliver to that Holt guy.” He made a face. “She had a grudge against him anyway.”