“I’m just going to freshen up,” Craig said, walking into the bathroom.
I laughed. Probably too loud. Definitely too loud. Oh well. My suitcase was unzipped. That wasn’t odd: that was alarming. My buzz was killed as I pulled the top open.
Inside, on top, was my designer leather Bag of Holding. On top of it was a small note:
Thanks, Jessica. I knew you’d understand.
“No. No. No!” I said, searching inside my bag for my potion chest. I found it, threw the lid back, and saw a vial was missing. I didn’t need to guess what the potion label said, but what was the potion itself? Shit!
“What?” Craig said, coming in from the bathroom. He was naked and damp, but not wet. He held a small washcloth in front of his crotch. He’d been taking a birdbath in the sink.
“I…someone was in my bag!” I said.
“Yeah. Mia,” he said, nonchalantly. “When we were in the lounge, she asked me for the key to the room.”
“Why?” I said, beside myself with rage.
“She didn’t say why. I assume for something like a Tampon? Something gross like that,” he said. The hand holding the washcloth was spending a bit too much time rubbing down there. I could see it was having a very small effect on him. “So, are you ready?”
“I’ve been looking forward to this all night,” I said, standing up and walking over to him. I saw his shit-eating grin, the way moisture clung to his neckbeard like some kind of carnivorous plant.
My hand waved in front of his face briefly. “Mizoo pizatto clava,” I said, intoning the notes as I was taught. Invocation was never my strongest suit, but it would do.
Craig fell asleep and crumpled to the floor, breathing in deeply. I walked into the bathroom and grabbed a towel, draping it over his naked body. With that taken care of, I had to go check on Mia.
I closed the door behind me, hanging the Do Not Disturb placard on the door handle.
As I made my way down the hall, I tried remembering what potions I had in my chest. How bad could this be? Most were energy mixtures, really no different then drinking a few Redbulls. But there were a few that I did to pass my studies. Dangerous ones. Ones that could change people or make them behave strangely. I hurried.
In front of their door, I thought that maybe I wasn’t too late. I knocked.
No answer.
I put my hand on the handle and closed my eyes. I could feel the tumblers inside the handle, the cool metal different than the warmer air around it. I gave little shoves to the lock, like little suggestions to the tumblers to right themselves. They listened, and the handle turned in my hand.
As I entered the room, my first instinct was that it was on fire. Without thinking I extended my hand into the room, “Foos Ro Da!” I said, a blast of air slamming forward to extinguish the flames.
When I saw a hundred tiny flames wink out, I knew they were candles. Damn, Mia, what did you do? I saw them both on the bed, very still. Mia was wearing some skimpy Victoria’s Secret lingerie. Joey was still fully dressed. Two glasses were on the floor next to the bed.
I leaned over to pick up the glasses. Smelling them, I caught rich notes of lavender. Thank goodness, she’d stolen a sleeping potion! I sat down next to the bed, exhausted. Magic could take a lot out of you. Once I was sure they were both ok, I left the room, locking it behind me as I left.
I stepped into the shower, feeling the hot water pour down my body, seeping into my sore muscles. There was always a price to be paid for playing with Magic. The more powerful the spell, the higher the price. That’s why practitioners of Witchcraft never changed the world in drastic ways: self-preservation.
I held my head down and let the steamy water out down my neck, my shoulders. There were other reactions to using Magic as well. Strong emotional responses were part of it as well. Some people felt lonely. Some felt triumphant.
It made me horny as hell.
I leaned back against the shower wall, one hand going to my breast. I squeezed the supple flesh, eliciting a moan from my own lips. I needed a man to use me, mount me, fuck me blind and leave without a word. Some broad-chested musclebound gym junky. Someone swinging some meat below the belt.
He’d come into the shower, find me leaning back, my legs spread open, eager for him. I spun around in the shower, leaning over to present my ass to my imaginary lover. My hand slipped down to my soaking folds, my aching clit screaming for attention.
He’d press my face against the shower wall, pinning me in place as he brought his stiff prick to my entrance. I cried out as I imagined him sliding into me, burying himself to the hilt, balls deep. My hand worked my pussy furiously, my climax coming on fast.
My legs quivered as I came, my juices flooding out of me, joining the downpour from the shower. Like a rare orchid blooming only for an instant, I felt warm relief flow through me. The grip of that primal lust loosened itself, allowing me to breath normally as I stood in the shower. I turned the water off and stepped out.
I was right. The bed was amazing. I lay under the covers, feeling the cool smooth cloth against my drying naked body. I realized that tomorrow, everyone I came here with would be out of commission. A part of me felt sad, that I would be alone, cooped up in this room with Sleeping Ugly.
But it didn’t have to be that way. Maybe I came out here with the wrong attitude. Maybe I could do things differently. Maybe I could have fun! I was too tired to contemplate this further, and my eyelids got too heavy to keep them up any longer.
“Shiiiiiiiiiiit!” I screamed, tearing down the slope on two teetering skis. I instantly regretted everything I’d done that morning, the lies I told to get onto this advanced slope. I was insulted that the ski instructor asked me if I wanted to do the beginner hill. Everyone on that hill was under ten or over eighty.
A pine tree was coming towards me, way too fast. I was very experienced, I’d told the nice man. So experienced, in fact, that I was considering teaching. “Why did I say that?” I said as I jumped to the left, pine needles slapping me in the face as I barely dodged death.
He even mentioned the snowstorm, and pointed off to the cloud bank rolling in. No problem, I’d said. Half the blame lay on the mimosas I’d had at breakfast. At least half the blame, I reassured myself as I shot down the side of a mountain.
A large bank of snow loomed ahead of me. If I hit it straight on they would have to scrape me off it with a shovel. I pitched to the right, swinging my body around to pivot in a new direction. The bank was now in spitting distance, and I swore under my breath and I went almost horizontal, my hips scraping the snowy mountainside.
I groaned with relief as I saw a fan of snow shoot up from my skis and I turned to the right. I skied right up to the wall but was now running alongside it, between it and a copse of trees to my right. Zooming past the trees, I saw the wall and trees ended up ahead.
As did the ground.
“Aiiiyeeee!” I hollered as I shot off the edge. I imagined myself free falling for thousands of feet, finally impacting at the bottom of a crevasse like a broken rag doll. Luckily things weren’t as dramatic. I landed in a snowdrift below, plunging into it like a cartoon.
Crawling out of the snowdrift, I looked back and saw the ledge maybe ten feet up. I tried to get my bearings, but I was deep in a valley. I didn’t know which was the ski lodge was, and didn’t see any roads.
“Well, shit,” I said, unstrapping my boots from my skis. I’d lose my hefty security deposit, but them’s the breaks. I leaned them up against the tree, hopefully visible to someone later. I pulled out my phone, swearing at my lack of a signal.
Memories of coven meetings came back to me, meetings where I brushed off learning certain things like navigation spells. Why would I need that shit when I had GPS on my phone? For times like this, idiot!
Snow began falling around me. I looked up at the darkening sky as it let loose a flurry. I thought about how nice this would have been to watch from a warm cabin, next to a fireplace. Ideal. Picturesque. But now I ha
d to worry about freezing to death out here.
Staying here would get me nowhere. If I kept moving, eventually I would find a road or something. I started putting one foot in front of the other and walked through the dense trees.
Hours later, I was no better off. It was darker, the snow had gotten thicker, and I was colder. I was maintaining a small enchantment for warmth, but it was draining, constantly sapping my will to stay awake. If I made it too warm, I’d pass out and then I was done for.
I’d been walking the whole time, mostly in a straight line as far as I could tell. It was easy to say you were walking in a straight line, but when you have to move around trees and bushes every minute, it’s hard to stay on course.
I leaned my hand against a tree, panting at the exertion of lifting my boots through six inches of snow with every step. Something skittered on the branches above me, sending a little more snow to fall around me. I tilted my head up and saw a squirrel, chittering loudly at me.
“Keralis smatulis happus!” I said, hoping my incantation was right.
“…My tree. You stay away from my tree! This is my tree!” the squirrel said, his tiny voice full of fury.
“Ok, sorry!” I said chittering back. I took my hand off the tree.
“Better!” he said, looking down at me. “No eat me?”
“No eat you,” I said. “Cold. Need nest,” I said. You had to communicate in terms they understood.
“No build nest for you, ugly,” he said. “Smell bad and no tail.”
I sighed. “Is there a big nest nearby?”
“Big nest for big uglies?” he said.
“Yes, big nest for big uglies,” I said, taking my hat off and wiping my brow.
“Give! Give fur!” he said, His beady little eyes followed the hat in my hand. “Bald and ugly! Big nest I see, tell you. Throw fur up here.”
I cocked my arm back and aimed it at the little furry asshole. Much to my dismay it unfolded in midair and landed harmlessly on the branch below him.
“Weak too. Ugly, bald, weak no tail. Maybe better you freeze,” he said, climbing down to grab her hat in his tiny hands.
I bent down to scoop up a snowball. I packed it hard.
“Oh, this fur very nice! Big nest for uglies that way,” he said, facing a new direction. He pushed the hat into the nook of a branch and crawled into it.
“How far?” I said, dropping the snowball.
“Leave. I sleep now,” he said.
I turned in the direction he pointed. If he was wrong, or lying, I might have just sealed my doom. I held my gloves against my ears, protecting my delicate extremities from the wind. It was picking up, starting to blow the snow in diagonally.
I stumbled through the bleak wilderness, my salvation dependent on a creature with a brain the size of a pea. Why couldn’t it have been some wise animal, like an owl or something? It was now a struggle to lift my foot each time. My legs were weak, straining to support me.
I also realized that I was starving. My breakfast had been just mimosas, and the night before we didn’t eat dinner. Could I have been any less prepared for this?
My foot caught on a root and I pitched forward. I managed to get my foot back in front of me, so I didn’t fall down. But I did plough forward through a dense bush, my momentum carrying me forward.
I cleared the stand of trees and found myself next to a log cabin. My spirit soared as I walked around to the front. I knocked on the door, waiting for a response. Hopefully a friendly response, but right now I’d settle for anyone.
No response.
I knocked again.
Nothing.
The door began to sway in front of me, and I knew I very well might lose consciousness and freeze on this person’s doorstep. I pressed my hand against the knob, feeling the tumblers inside it. I willed them to line up. With a click the door unlocked and I fell inside.
A dry rug rushed up to meet my face, my head bouncing off it. The pain shook me, woke me up. I crawled up the door and slammed it behind me, shutting out the deadly cold. I lay against it, breathing heavily in and out. It was warm in here, and that was enough.
I took in the cabin, my eyes lingering. It was unoccupied, and the whole building was a single room. A good sized window was present in each wall, letting in some fading sunlight. A stove was in the corner, the only source of heat for the room. Shelves above and next to the stove held pots, pans and food.
A bed was laid along the wall near the stove. The bed was made neatly, a green wool blanket laid along the top. A table in the center of the room had a jigsaw puzzle on it, mostly completed.
My stomach rumbled, and I walked over to the shelves. Mason jars lined the shelves, packed with uncooked staples, preserves and pickles. Some cans of tuna. Aha! A box of Oreos were nestled in the back behind a bag of rice.
I pulled the box out, tearing the top off and two into my mouth. My brain exploded in sugary bliss, my blood sugar returning to a normal level. These were the very best things I’d ever tasted. I held the box close to me, willing to defend it with my life.
I walked over to the stove, feeling the heat coming off it. The owner was nearby: you didn’t leave even smoldering embers go if you were leaving. Sure, he’d be pissed about everything, but a little Magic would make everything fine.
I walked over to the puzzle, devouring more cookies as I went. It was a thousand piece puzzle featuring a proud snow owl. A good portion of it had been completed, but a small pile of pieces lay on the side.
I twiddled my fingers, the pile of pieces swirling up into the air and falling down into place. The universe is usually pretty eager to find order in chaos. Jigsaw puzzles are no exception. I turned away from the completed puzzle, munching more cookies.
I sat down on the bed, the sugar rush from the cookies wearing off. I struggled to keep my eyes open.
“Struella promosa,” I said, weaving a spell for anyone who walked in the door. Something that would give me plenty of warning. I crawled under the covers, curling up and falling asleep.
“What are you doing in my home?” a stern voice asked.
My eyes flew open, landing on a naked man at the foot of the bed, crouching to put firewood in the stove. His shoulders were incredibly broad, sinews of muscle stretching up to a wide neck. He had snow in his hair, and his body was covered in snowmelt.
His nakedness was alarming. Almost as alarming as my spell’s failure to wake me. I didn’t know what was going on, but I had to act quickly. I crawled to the edge of the bed and placed my hand on his shoulder.
“Corealis bultrua,” I whispered. His eyes would close, and he’d fall into a deep sleep. Then I could scramble for his car keys and get the hell out of here. At least, that’s what should have happened.
He chuckled. “Doesn’t work, sweetheart.” He stood up and turned around, his body glistening in the fire now roaring in the stove. I don’t know if it was the heat from the stove or the heat from his body, but I fell back onto the bed.
He was incredible. His arms were sculpted from marble, his stomach rippled with a six pack. His ass was firm enough to bounce a quarter off of. His prick hung low, chilled from the cold but seemingly ready for action. He had legs taken right from Roman statues.
A strong chin, the kind that could dig into your shoulder in the most wonderful way. Lips that were made to be bitten.
And glowing gold eyes. A Lycan! A creature outside the streams of Magic and therefore immune to it.
“Uh oh,” I whispered. “Please, don’t eat me.”
He tilted his head, looking down at me. He made no move to cover himself, no thought of modesty about his wedding tackle swinging in front of a stranger. He clucked his teeth, moving towards me. Everything about his movement shouted danger, the finesse of a casual killer.
I closed my eyes, bracing for it. The gnashing fangs, the tearing claws. I hoped he’d end me quick. I’d had a pretty good life, all things considered.
“My Oreos?” he said, picking up the empty box
near the foot of the bed.
I opened my eyes. “Look, I’m really sorry. I was starving,” I said.
He walked backwards, his shoulders crestfallen. “But the whole box? Come on, who does that? I have whole shelves of food! Make yourself some rice and beans! Some corned beef hash,” he said. “But you don’t eat a man’s whole stash of cookies.”
He glanced down to his left, at the table. “What the hell? You finished my puzzle too?” he said, awestruck. “You know, I’d heard about witches. I assumed the stories about you being selfish good for nothings was bullshit. But here we are,” he said. “I’m Sigmund, by the way. I’d welcome you to my house, but you’ve already seen to that.”
Luke (BBW Country Music Bear Shifter Romance) (Bearly Saints Book 3) Page 99
