Romancing the Paranormal

by Stephanie Rowe

  “Yeah, like a diamond ring fits anything on your insides.” Esmeralda joked.

  “No, I’m not joking. The problem is that Gertie’s man has gone missing. Gertie just so happens to find herself in the crosshairs of a persistent satyr. We would assume the satyr would be our number one suspect in Brad’s disappearance, but strangely he was found beaten and tied up the night Brad disappears. I doubt Brad would have attacked the satyr and then simply fled. If he felt there was a threat, he would have gone back to protect Gertie, not run away. Then we find a magic ring trying to hide in Gertie’s belly. The only rings known to do that are discussed in an Old Norse legend. And if I recall, these magic rings are a type of curse. Whoever has one of these inside them must do the bidding of whoever placed the curse. If they refuse…that ring will kill them. This ring business just puzzles me to no end. How the hell does Norse magic fit into this problem? To make it worse, our only witnesses are useless. Gertie was knocked out from gobbling valiums like they were skittles and the satyrs are notorious liars.”

  “Why not ask Wanda about the Norse magic ring? She is somewhat of an expert on that magic.” Esmeralda asked. Randy and I stared at each other. Every time I started to open my mouth and confess that we had botched a Norse magic spell, Randy shook his head at me. He strolled over and sat on my bed next to me. From the corner of my eye, I saw him fiddling around on his phone. He appeared to be reading a news story out of New Orleans.

  Marie considered Esmeralda’s question. “I probably will have to talk to Wanda at some point. She is the only one I know that has knowledge of Norse magic. At the same time, it worries me. Who else would know any Norse magic spells to put this ring in Gertie? Wanda is the only one. I really hate to say this, but she becomes a suspect. I can’t even imagine what her motive would be. This damn ring really throws me for a loop.”

  That was it. I had to confess. “Marie? I have something I need to—”

  Then Wanda’s tiny frame appeared in the doorway. The sweet old grandmotherly witch had a positively radiant glow about her. She didn’t say a word, or perhaps she couldn’t even say a word because a giant smile was frozen on her face. It didn’t take long to see what had put that smile there, a man. A tall, well-built, and completely naked man with a full head of golden hair came from behind her and stood next to her. Every one of us immediately lost any sense of what our conversation had been about. Each of us stared with our mouths agape. Maybe it was the surprise of seeing Wanda with a naked stranger, but I’m pretty sure it was because this particular naked hunky stranger was the spitting image of the actor that plays on those Thor movies.

  Wanda straightened her scrubs. “You all look like a nest full of hungry baby birds. Don’t you have any manners? Say hello to the satyr.” She patted his beefy chest then gave his ass a few light slaps.

  “Hold the damn bus.” Marie croaked. “You mean to tell me you’ve found another satyr? Where’s the first one?”

  “This is the first one. I found out something about satyrs. They’re shifters all right. Here, I should just have him show you. Vasili, go say hello to Marie. It’s okay. Show her what you do.”

  The new Vasili walked up to Marie. Suddenly his entire body shimmered into a blur and when he came back into focus, he had transformed once again. Now Vasili became an equally well-built black man. He took Marie’s hand and in a deep smoky voice he made his introduction. “Marie, your beauty exceeds that of an angel.” He kissed the back of her hand. “I want nothing more than to give you every pleasure you dream of and more.”

  Marie’s eyes bugged out and I couldn’t tell if she was smiling or shocked. She fanned herself with her free hand. “Whew! You are something. Mmm, mmm, mmm. Nice. Now, tell me where Brad is. Tell me! Or you’ll become a basilisk’s breakfast.”

  Vasili looked at me and then to each of the others. He walked up to me and transformed into the form he was when I met him. “Gertie’s lover, Brad. Yes, I met him. I can speak any language, yet his language is very old and hard to understand. He was the one that tied me up. I don’t know where he is, but he should be returning here soon.”

  “Brad? Are we talking about the same guy? Where did he go?”

  “He said that he was gathering his men and he would return. I think he plans to use me as some sort of sacrifice.”

  “What? My Brad? You’re either lying your horns off or you must have gotten a pretty good wallop in that melon of yours.” I remembered what Marie said about how satyrs are prone to lies, but if he was lying, he was very convincing. “Vasili, tell me. What brought you here to my plantation? You sought me out and I want to know why.” I tapped on the image of the basilisk. “I could whip one of these suckers up in a minute. Keep that in mind.” I absolutely hate to be stern or threatening. It’s contrary to every nerve I have. However, I worried for Brad’s safety. In this case, I felt like it was my only choice.

  “You were right about me on the night when we met. I was a homeless goat. I came here because I have heard of this place. A loving home for lost and lonely creatures like me. When you took that leather collar off of me, you removed the curse that kept me in my truest form, a goat. The collar prevented me from shifting into any other form. Once I was free, I can only be what I am. A true satyr. And a satyr can do only one thing.”

  “That’s why you tried to seduce me? Because it’s your nature?”

  “What can I say? I’m just a sexy beast. However, a satyr does not seduce or try to cause harm. We have been wrongly persecuted throughout history. We only live to give pleasure.”

  Esmeralda begged for Vasili’s attention. “Me! Me! Come here, sexy beast, and do me now! I need some pleasuring.”

  Vasili approached Esmeralda and shimmered. When he was done, he was none other than Randy’s sister, Kelly. He shimmered again and he transformed into a man I recognized as a local deputy sheriff. “That’s great, but I want a fresh new hottie like Wanda and Marie got! Give me something new, big guy.”

  Wanda waved her hands. “No, no, it’s not like he can just become whatever he wants. When he focuses on the one he wants to seduce, his image transforms into whatever his victim’s, for lack of a better word, most active sexual fantasy involves.”

  Armed with knowledge of how the satyr operates, an idea popped up in my mind. “But…if you knew he was a satyr and how his little shifter trick works, you could take control of what he turns into. You’d just have to have a fantasy character in your head, ready to go.” I announced.

  Wanda touched Vasili on the shoulder. “Vasili, is that possible? For someone to trick you into transforming into something specific?”

  “As long as this person you desire is an actual fantasy of yours, then the answer is yes. And the image in your mind would have to be very detailed. Otherwise, my transformation will be based on what I find in your mind. But I do have other powers of pleasure...what you call seduction. I know exactly what excites you, what to say, how to touch you. Most importantly, I can draw you in close with my music. I can say whatever it is that you really want to hear. I can adopt any persona.”

  “That explains the stories of satyrs playing flutes and harps.” Marie pointed out.

  Randy got up from the bed and put more distance between Vasili and himself. “Okay, I don’t like this one bit. It’s bad enough this guy is some sort of telepath that can get into your head, become the person of your sexual fantasies, say all the right things—”

  “Sounds a lot like online dating to me,” Esmeralda said with a shrug of her shoulders.

  Randy acknowledged her. “I suppose so, but as I was saying…just imagine having your most secret sexual fantasy lover splashed up on an IMAX 3D display for public viewing. Think about it. How embarrassing.”

  Esmeralda pounced on Randy’s comment. “Randy? Who is this mysterious secret fantasy lover you don’t want us to see? Hmm?”

  “I don’t…I mean, this is all about privacy. It’s just not right.” I could tell Randy wanted this conversation to end.

/>   “Vasili, go poke around in Randy’s head. Let’s see who he’s got hiding away in there.” Esmeralda commanded.

  “No! Get the hell away from me. And it’s none of anyone’s business, Esmeralda.” Randy’s sharp response lashed out to both Vasili and Esmeralda.

  Now, I had to agree with Esmeralda. Randy was obviously hiding something. Still, he was right. It wasn’t anyone else’s business and certainly I didn’t want to see my friend humiliated. “Leave Randy be.” It certainly didn’t have anything to do with the fact that he was gay. I was a little curious, but I had more important things on my mind. Randy sat back down by me and slipped his phone into my hand. The page with the news story he had been reading was still on the screen.

  Mardi Gras Storage Hit by Burglars in Overnight Break-in.

  I quickly scanned through the article and I soon saw what had caught Randy’s interest. The items that were stolen were from a Viking themed float. I wondered about the coincidence of Norse magic on the plantation and an odd burglary of Viking costumes nearby. I didn’t have to wonder about it long.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Raided By A Viking

  “Brrrrerrrrewww,” that’s the only way I can describe the sound in the backyard. Perhaps you could say it was like some lunatic was blowing with all their might on a French horn. It repeated two more times.

  Randy cocked his head and listened, the same as me. “Sounds like one of your monsters caught a head cold, Gertie. Maybe Wanda ought to take a look.” He walked over to the window to see what creature it was. “Gertie? I think you ought to come and take a look at your man, Brad. He’s back and he’s acting about as crazy as a kangaroo on crack.”

  I took Randy’s place at the window. “Brad! Thank God!” Brad was dressed up in a gaudy Mardi Gras Viking costume, carrying a silvery shield in one hand and an oversized horn from a bull in the other. I threw open the window. “Brad! Hi! Where were you?” Brad looked up and yelled in a foreign language that I recognized from the spell, Old Norse. I grabbed Randy by the back of his shirt. “Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Randy? What did we do?”

  “I think we brainwashed Brad into thinking he’s a Viking raider. Jesus. Look at him. It’s not even a real Viking outfit.” I knew what Randy meant. It was a shiny, feathery, and rainbow themed disaster. “Oh my. Gertie, he’s wearing canary yellow spandex. Look! Behind him. The brute is pulling the Viking long-ship float all by himself.” A heavy rope was wrapped over Brad’s broad chest and led back to the parade float. The float lurched forward with each determined, helmet feather waving step Brad took. Randy made a deadpan joke. “All aboard for Gay Mardi Gras.”

  “It was the spell of Groa. Wasn’t it?” I whispered to Randy.

  The others crowded Randy and me away from the window.

  A growling sound percolated up from someplace deep inside of Marie. “All right. Now you two need to spill it. What exactly are you hiding? What in the wide world of witchcraft possessed you to turn a steaming hot alpha male into…” She shook an index finger in Brad’s direction. “Whatever that is out there.”

  “Um, Marie? I believe the common name is a Vi-queen,” Randy said at a near whisper volume.

  “It—it’s my fault, Marie. I tried out a spell I found. Some Norse magic spell of Groa. I was trying to bewitch Brad into deciding to move in with me.”

  Marie stomped her foot and unleashed her anger upon us. “Damn it! What is it with you two? A spell of Groa? That’s necromancy.” I could tell how appalled she was. It was as if I had just told her that I decided to give cannibalism a try. “It’s black magic! Old school, evil sorcery, and you know…you both know damn well that it’s forbidden for general use. Necromancy is extremely dangerous. It’s not something to be played with by below average imbeciles.”

  I took a step back. “I didn’t know that! I swear. Maybe we—we could f-find some above average imbeciles to reverse it? Are you one?”

  Randy jerked my ear closer and whispered. “An imbecile is an idiot.”

  I quickly set things straight. “Oh, and I also didn’t know what an imbecile was. Until just now. I thought imbecile meant a special witch, like yourself.”

  Marie growled and rubbed her forehead. The heel of her palm pushed the skin up in little ridges and I thought her face was going to peel off without warning. “And did you succeed in conjuring the spirit of the evil witch, Groa?” Marie asked.

  Randy was genuinely excited to finally learn why we had such a bad experience. “Ahhh! So that’s who that was! We were wondering why some enormous spooky thing appeared. The whole terrifying apparition shtick didn’t seem to fit in a love spell theme. And I can see now why Brad thinks he’s some Viking warrior returning with his ship. The spell was for bringing the warrior back to his love.”

  Esmeralda joined in with an observation. “Did that include returning home with a captured dragon?”

  “What?” I looked over her shoulder and saw what she was talking about. My giant psychedelic dragon hung his head in shame while his rainbow tail dragged behind the Viking boat. “Oh, poor Olaf! Wanda, Brad’s captured Olaf. He looks so sad with a chain around his neck. He must feel completely embarrassed.”

  “Oh, yes. The dragon is embarrassed. How awful.” Esmeralda snickered. “What about Brad? Wait until he finds out that you tossed him down one of Gertie O’Leary’s magical rabbit holes and turned him into a glam-Vikqueen on a bad acid trip. I mean, really. Just look at him dragging that rainbow carnival float around your plantation, parading your vanquished pet dragon, and shouting some unintelligible gibberish. Christ, Gertie. He’s lost in his own personal Mardi Gras wonderland.” Esmeralda looked back out the window and started cackling at what she saw next. “Oh hell. Now that’s something you don’t see every day. That pair of smelly Sasquatches of yours are in the parade, too. And they must be on the same drugs as Brad. Take a look.”

  Dressed in the tattered remains of Gay Mardi Gras parade outfits, Wills and Kate danced on the ship. They beat their spears against their shields and howled. To see them involved in such great fun made me smile.

  Thankfully, Marie took charge. “All right, Esmeralda. You can stop barking now, Gertie and Randy have been reprimanded and this was the result of their incompetence. They had no nefarious intent. We’ll call it…accidental necromancy.” Marie headed for the door. I threw my dress on and grabbed the bestiary as well as the so-called Book of Love. We followed Marie down stairs. “Let’s all head out by Brad to see if we can straighten that boy out before he takes his Viking raid into town and scares the hell out of the locals. Wanda, I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you more about the ring earlier. I just wanted to get all of my ducks in a row first. You’re the expert in Norse magic. What can you tell us?”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it, Marie. Besides, I was taking my sweet time with that satyr. I bet you didn’t know they can extend their tongues quite a ways out if you ask for it. Oh, yeah. That was the best sex of my life, hands down. But that’s just the beginning. You have got to see what he can do with that beaver basher of his. Whew! When he took his—”

  Marie shut her down. “Wanda, please. You can tell me the details later. What can you tell me about this Groa? She was summoned.”

  Wanda raised her hands and acknowledged Marie’s point. “Yes, yes. Sorry. Still quivering and tingling quite a bit.” Wanda turned around and looked at Randy, then at me. “When she appeared, do you two know what she said?”

  Randy rolled his eyes. “Oh sure. She said ‘bork dee jork de spork’ a few times. Of course it was difficult to get all of that, being as it was in an ancient Swedish chef language and all. It took me back to my Muppet watching days. Not to mention it was being shouted by one of those dementors from Harry Potter. The damned thing probably showed up here because it’s out of work, ever since that series ended.”

  “I’m sorry, Wanda. It’s been a long few days and Randy is just being a complete and total ass.” I used my most polite and honest voice. We really needed Wanda’s help. “
It was impossible to tell what she said. I have the book with the spell in it.” We were down the stairs and just about ready to leave the house. Marie stopped our progress long enough to give Wanda some time to take a look at the book.

  It didn’t take Wanda long to read the spell and come to a conclusion. “Aha. Well, what you’ve got here is a necromancy spell all right. Groa is a legendary figure, a very powerful sorceress. You woke her up and asked her for help.”

  “But I only read the first stanza. How could anything have happened?”

  “Sweetie, that first stanza is the part that woke her up to request her help. She would have known instantly what you wanted or what threat you were under. She just provides the solution. The problem with Groa is that her assistance comes at a price. A steep price.”

  “How much? I’m a little strapped for cash.”

  “It’s not money she wants. We don’t know yet and I don’t want to scare you. Let’s see if Brad can tell us anything.”

  Marie opened the back door and I couldn’t help myself. I ran out to Brad. “Brad? What’s going on?” He cocked his head to one side and another, like a dog trying to comprehend a new sound.

  When he shook his head and replied in something that was surely Norse, I knew that English was a foreign language. “Hvad ertu ad segja?”

  Marie had followed me and whispered in my ear. “He can’t understand a lick of English. But I’ve got something to fix that.” She pulled out a small leather bag from the folds of her robe. Her hand roamed the inside, swishing back and forth around in it until she found what she wanted, a small clump of rust-colored dust. “Here, take this. Crush it in the palm of your hand and blow it in his face. Go on, blow it and don’t hold back. Say the Latin phrase loquimini in anglicus. It will make him speak English.”