Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers (85 page)

As Gideon winked and leaned forward to claim another kiss, Miki shied away.

“I’ve got to go,” she muttered, hurrying down the rotting steps as fast as she could. So fast, she didn’t see the shimmer of life, not felt in a dozen years, unfurl its magic. Like the first hint of spring, energy renewed, giving the faintest promise of hope. And deep in the brambles covering the ancient well, a tiny white bloom unfurled its delicate petals.

With the return of magic and the hope of love, the promise of the prophecy was reborn.

* * *

Tilda clenched her fist, glaring at the rocks piled on the table in front of her.

“What’s going on?” Antonio whispered out of the corner of his mouth. “Why isn’t it working?”

A sea of faces stared up at the altar where they stood. Their looks of expectation were shifting to frowns and she could see a few starting to whisper. The sun beat down, its brilliant rays reflecting off the white marble of the altar, intensifying the stabbing pain in Tilda’s head.

She swallowed the panic trying to claw its way up her throat. Pushing back the black haze blurring the edges of her vision, she pulled once again on the surrounding energy.

And felt nothing.

Nothing?

How was this possible?

Tilda ground her teeth together and tried to calm her racing heart. The beat was so wild, so strong, she knew those peasants below had to hear it. Her hands began to shake as she tried again to enchant the rocks to appear as gold.

Nothing.

“Tilda,” Antonio hissed, urgency clear in the stiff set of his half-naked body. “Do something.”

“Do it yourself,” she snapped back. But, even in her turmoil, she kept her voice quiet. They couldn’t let the sheep see the loss of control. The loss of power. With one last glare, Antonio stepped away from her. He positioned himself right behind the altar and raised his hands in the air. The murmurs died down and like the sheep Tilda mockingly dubbed them, the Lights of Atlantis went silent.

“My people, I give you results,” he bellowed in his chanting, sing-song voice. “Perhaps not the results you’ve come to expect, no. But there is a lesson in that. Let’s explore it, shall we? In that exploration, you’ll see the path to your next level of attainment.”

Tilda glared. She’d given him that gift, that hypnotic power over words. Why was he unaffected by the shift of energy? Why was he still enchanted?

To hide her shaking hands, she stepped into the shadows, away from the stares, letting the sound of Antonio’s sermon fade into the background.

What had happened? She ground her teeth in anger. She’d called the energy of this mountain, this lake, her own for years now. Where had it gone? So used to relying on the abundant energy embedded in this area, in these people, she hadn’t realized how much she’d let her own powers atrophy, grow stale. They were there, now, trembling and shaky. She’d fix that.

As soon as she did, she’d divine the reason for the loss of energy. She’d find out who or what was to blame for blocking her access or rerouting the prophecy’s powers.

And then someone would pay dearly for this moment of humiliation.

There’s a New Witch in Town: Chapter Six

How stupid could she be?

It wasn’t like she didn’t have enough trouble with a vindictive ex-husband calling daily to harass her. A karmic backlash hanging over her head until she uncursed Perry the Pig. The only bright spot in life-as-she-currently-knew-it, she’d finally—
finally
—got her magic under control.

And then? Go Miki, she’d just had to kiss the hunky mortal. A bone-melting, heat-inducing, lust-obsessing kiss. She wanted to smack herself upside the head.

What had she been thinking? She’d known he was bad news. She’d even reminded herself to stay away from mortal entanglements. But, nooooo. Miki just had to tempt Fate. And what happened? Fate kicked her butt.

She glared at the sagging, moldy wallpaper covering the bathroom wall. The floral paper hung like an accordion, its wrinkled pleats reverberating to some unknown beat. Overhead, a mister hung midair, spraying warm steam at the avocado-green insult to decor. Years of dirt and mold buildup streaked the paper to drip into a filthy puddle on the stained tiles beneath.

“
I just need enough steam to clean up this mess, how it got this bad is anyone’s guess. But I’ve had enough, make it stop, before I drown in this disgusting slop
.”

Nothing.

A frustrated scream ripped from her throat.

See what happened when she kissed mortals?

Her magic, going so well for that one single day, was right back to screwed up and worthless.

Miki refused to accept her magic sucked. Not again. Trying one more time, she pulled the energy up through her body, imagining a spiraling band of light as it climbed from her root chakra up through her belly. Letting the energy build, she focused, then sent it flying out through the index finger she pointed at the steam-spouting tin can.

The overhead light sparked and flashed, then steadied. The toilet flushed and the scraping tool she’d used on the wallpaper flew across the room.

But the mister?

Nothing.

Miki shoved aside the grabby little fingers of despair as they tried to take hold. She puffed out her cheeks and pressed her lips together. Damn. Blowing out a long breath, she shook her arms to loosen up, tilted her head from side to side, and rolled her shoulders.

She could do this.

She just had to focus. She breathed through her teeth, since the smell of old moldy paper had filled the tiny bathroom with gross fumes. What had she done before? How had she clicked into the right frequency to control her powers?

It had been the land.

She opened her eyes to stare out the narrow-paned bathroom window. She’d connected with the energy of the land, the living Earth. But it had been her magic working, not earth magic. Maybe the land’s energy had steadied hers, but she’d still been the witch in charge.

Hadn’t she? Tears filled her eyes. Miki blinked them away. She refused to believe she was doomed to this useless, wonky magic.

No. She was fine. She had plenty of magical power. But her powers were like a shorted electrical current, flying willy-nilly all over the place, unable to complete the circuit. The earth connection had grounded them.

That was her story, and she was sticking to it. Because if there was one thing magic needed, it was confidence.

The steam’s moisture now ran down the wall in rivulets. The wall behind the paper was starting to swell. Miki might not know diddly about home improvements, but that couldn’t be good for it. She had to get it to stop.

With a deep breath, she reached her hands out to sense the energy. The image of the huge green mountain firmly in her mind, she closed her eyes and opened herself to its power.

Nothing. It was as if she were in a bubble and couldn’t touch it. She knew it was there, she could sense it. But it was somehow out of reach.

Miki clenched her teeth and barely refrained from beating on the disintegrating wall. Instead, she kicked the chipped base of the pedestal sink.

Her foot exploded in pain through the thin canvas of her tennis shoe. The mister blew up, water shooting at the wall like a geyser. The wallpaper, sad to begin with, drooped in pitiful wet ugliness. Miki swiped at the water ricocheting at her face and stifled another frustrated scream.

“Shouldn’t you be taking a shower inside the tub?”

Miki yelped at her brother’s voice. She spun around, not realizing how wet the tiles under her feet were. It was only Ryan’s quick thinking and large hand that stopped her from landing flat on her ass in a pile of wet, moldy goo.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she growled, clinging tight to his hand until she got her balance again. Miki shot a disgusted look at the mister, still hanging in midair, giving little hissing sputters.

“What the hell are you trying to do?” he countered.

“Strip this butt-ugly wallpaper.”

“Interesting way to do it. I didn’t realize you had to take the whole wall with it.”

“Shut up, Ryan. Help me with this.” Swallowing her pride, along with a healthy dose of humiliation, she gestured to the flood of murky water soaking into her shoes.

Ryan opened his mouth, then shut it without comment. He cast a swift glance around the room. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he chanted, “Mist and steam, your work is done. Repair yourself and be gone.”

Just like that, the steamer pieces and damp air disappeared. Sadly, the mess was still there.

“You couldn’t have taken off that wallpaper?” she whined. Not that she wasn’t grateful. She was. But after an hour of struggling with a possessed mister, wonky magic, and now soaked shoes, it grated to see the ease with which Ryan worked magic.

“What do I know about removing wallpaper? You’re gonna have to pull it down yourself. As wet as it is, that shouldn’t be too hard.”

Miki sighed. Then, toes squishing in her shoes, she tiptoed to the wall and gave the gooey green paper a tug. It slid off the wall like butter. She didn’t think the blistered wall beneath the paper was a good thing, but she’d ignore that for now.

Five minutes, ten tugs and a disgusting pile later and her walls were bare. Bubbly, but bare.

Ryan gave her a pitying look, and with a snap of his fingers, the pile of paper disappeared.

“Garbage?” she asked. Her shoulders weighted down with defeat, she tried to keep her chin high.

“Yeah.” Ryan looked around and sneered. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. You can show me what else you’ve done.”

“You want to see the rest of my repair attempts?”

“Sure. Especially in the kitchen.”

“You mean you’re hungry.”

“Hey, I cleaned up your mess. You can make me lunch. After all, you
are
a great cook.”

Miki took the pity gesture for what it was and followed her brother out of the still stinky bathroom.

On the way down the stairs, Miki silently pointed out the loose step.

“You realize this place is a health hazard,” Ryan said.

Lips pressed together, she didn’t tell him the step hadn’t been loose until she’d tried to fix the rickety banister.

They continued down the stairs, evidence of her repair attempts all over the place.

“At least you’re being smart here,” Ryan commented, pointing to the stack of unpacked boxes lining one tiny wall. “No point in wasting time with those, right? You’ll be heading home soon?”

“I didn’t unpack them because there isn’t enough room in this tiny room to put anything. Besides, it’s so gross and dirty, it’s more sanitary to keep things in boxes until the kitchen is remodeled.”

“Remodeled? Miki, catch a clue,” he said, holding up the broken cabinet door as evidence. “You can’t do this stuff. Even with magic, you can only do what you already know how. And you obviously don’t know about fixing up a house.”

“I’ve been reading up on it,” she defended.

“You shouldn’t rely on horror novels and comic books.”

“Ha. I have repair books. I didn’t attempt any of these jobs without reading the instructions carefully. I know what I’m doing.”

Ryan gave the broken door a pitying look before leaning it against the cabinet. Then he gave her the same sad look and shook his head.

“So you meant to rip the doors from their hinges?”

“Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin. “I mean, I meant to take them all down to be cleaned and sanded. The book said that’s the best way to make old cabinets look new again without refacing.”

She eyed the sadly splintered door and sighed.

“That one was stuck though, so I tried to give the screwdriver a little extra budge with magic.”

“It’s a good thing you haven’t tried to fix the leaking roof,” he commented. “You’d pull the ceiling down on top of you.”

Miki didn’t bother defending herself. After all, he was probably right.

“I didn’t expect you back so soon,” was all she said.

“I popped down to Santa Monica to visit Lena for a bit.”

“How is she?” Overwhelmed with sudden homesickness, Miki sighed. She hadn’t discovered any trolls or axe murders in this picturesque town yet, but it was definitely starting to feel like a horror novel.

“She’s as bossy as ever,” he said with a shrug. “We hit Karma Café for dessert. The entire meal was spent with Lena nagging at me to get back and take care of you since she’s stuck with clients all week and can’t visit.”

Miki sniffed, but refused to feel guilty. They were the ones who’d decided she needed a babysitter. She would be fine on her own. She glanced at the ceiling, the scent of moldy paper still clinging to her. Maybe. She rinsed the mushrooms and peppers, then with a grimace at the disgusting stained countertop, she set them in a bowl while she dug through an open box for her cutting board.

“And who should walk in but Perry the Pig.”

A spasm kinked her neck and Miki turned, knife in hand, to stare. Satisfied he had her attention, Ryan leaned back on the stool with a smug look. She had to force herself not to kick the seat out from under him. It wasn’t like he’d tell her any faster squirming on the floor.

Instead, she shrugged and, acting like her stomach wasn’t knotted and ready to rebel, turned back to the vegetables.

“I’m not surprised. Perry always did like dessert.”

“I’ll say.” Ryan snickered. “But unless he’s getting it delivered, he won’t be having chocolate trifle any time soon.”

“Is there a point to this, Ryan?” Miki seeded the peppers in an easy, practiced move. “If so, can you get to it?”

Ryan snitched a slice of pepper and Miki glanced up at him.

“It seems Perry the Pig has gotten himself tossed out of quite a few restaurants lately. He can’t seem to keep his pants zipped at the table, if you know what I mean.”

Miki’s knife froze and she bit back a groan. Damn. The curse wasn’t waning. It was getting worse.

“I’m not surprised you ripped the screws out of that cabinet door, Mik. After all, you’ve already put the royal screw to your ex.”