Werecats and Werelocks (Collection) (19 page)

He nodded.

"Well, that's the truth. I'm—I'm dyslexic and shoot ... sometimes things just go horribly wrong for me. I mean, I turned my cat into a planter, for crap's sake! I'm a dismal failure as a witch. It's the reason I'm here on Castoffsphere in the first place. So, now that that's settled, you can go home. Or back to your—what was it?"

"Bottle,” he replied.

She nodded. “Yes, bottle."

Wait. Bottle
? “Bottle?"

"Yeah,
bottle
and I don't think I like your tone. Just because I live in a bottle doesn't mean I don't have feelings. Genies are people too,” he offered with a smug smile.

"Genie? You're a
genie
? Like magic carpets and—and—three wishes and that show with the blonde chick always calling that Major guy Master—
genie
?” she sputtered in astonishment.

"You know, I always felt Jeannie was rather subservient, myself. Don't get me wrong, she was sexy, but overall it wasn't exactly a true comparison to the genie lifestyle,” he said dryly.

Felicity jumped off the bed and pulled the sheet with her. Omigod, omigod, omigod.

She'd summoned a genie. From a bottle ... “Don't genies come from lamps? You know, you rub them and poof, instant genie?"

"Yes indeed, some do. I do not. I liked my bottle. I was very hip."

He sat up and plumped the pillows behind him. “How can we do the nasty if you cover yourself up?"

"Do the nasty? Are you cracked? I am not doing the anything with you! You have to go home or back to your bottle, back to wherever it is that you came from!” Felicity paced the floor. Oh, she'd done it now ... she'd tampered with another dimension and summoned a genie.

Christian smiled. “I'm from L.A., thank you. At least that's what I think they call it now. And I can't go back. You have to divorce me first. I hear they're pretty hard to come by. Divorces, I mean. Could take
yeeeaarrs
. So, hop back in the bed and let's do this connubial bliss thing right.” He patted the spot beside him.

"No, no. I can fix this. I know I can. You don't want to be married to me. I snore, I'm a lousy housewife and I can't cook and here's the clincher, Sinbad, I—do—not—want—a—husband!"

He crossed his ankles quite casually and smiled again. “Sinbad sailed the seven seas, he was
not
a genie. And, I think that's just too damn bad, cuz ya got one and I ain't goin’ back to the bottle."

That was a pretty firm stance he was taking there.

Gods, he was sexy.

"Well, you have to go back. I can't keep you here. I can't be married to a ... a ...
genie
. I'm a witch!"

"You know, Felicity, you say that as if it's a dirty word. As my wife I require a little respect from you,” he admonished good-naturedly.

Felicity clenched the sheet around her and puckered her lips. “You have to go away. This was a mistake, a big mistake, of monumental proportions. And, we're
not
married. I just screwed up a spell. A couple of mixed up words does not a marriage make!"

"Well, babe, where we come from you tied the knot and I can't go back unless you divorce me and that means involving all sorts of nasty Djinn, you know that, sweet lips. It gets messy, ya know? Of course you know. You did marry me, remember? So, let's make the best of this little
oops
and move on to the honeymoon.” He winked.

Oh, those dimples ... married him? No siree Bob, she did not either marry anyone! “I did
not
marry you! I don't even know you! How could I get married without knowing it?"

"You did too marry me. We had a lovely wedding. On the beach of some tropical island you conjured up. You were beautiful, my love."

A tropical island? Shit, she'd been some kinda snockered last night, huh? “I couldn't conjure up an island in the middle of a highway, let alone a tropical one. God, I must have really been drunk last night!"

He cocked his shiny head as if
she
were the looney toon. “Drunk? Last night?"

"Yes, you Yul Brynner rip off. I was drunk last night and I came home and I had some French fries and—and—I looked through a magazine with a picture of—of—oh, my, God!”
A picture of Yul Brynner
...

"Could we go slowly for the guy who's done some time in a very sheltered bottle here, Glenda? I don't know what you did last night. I don't much care, either, punkin'. I only know you're finished being angry with me and summoned me from my bottle. Man alive, you can be a feisty wench. It matters not. We're together again and that's all that matters. I'll forgive you your temper, even if it cost me almost one hundred years.” He blew a kiss at her.

"One hundred years? What the hell are you talking about? I'm thirty, nitwit!"

"Of course you are, sweetness. You'll be forever thirty to me."

Felicity's face flamed with irritation. “I—am—not—your—wife!"

"Oh—yes—you—are! You look just as you did before you became so angry with me and banned me to my bottle. Did you take some bad genie juice or something? Were you smoking that opiate? What did I tell you about stuff like that?” He scooted closer to her and Felicity stepped away just as fast.

No husbands. None.

Her panic rose like the water in a stopped up toilet. Had she broken some cosmic rule? Pissed some force off that she hadn't even known existed?

Felicity tucked the sheet between her breasts and started rooting around her dresser for her magic wand. Aha! She ran her hand over it and thought hard.

Really hard.

There had to be like a ‘marriage vow-be-gone’ spell.

Shit, shit, shit.

Thinking...

"Okay. Release unto me, no longer linger. Gone with you, by just a finger?” Felicity made a circle with her wand and prayed. Squeezing her eyes shut, she concentrated.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

The silence was thick like pea soup.

"Boo!"

"Ahhhhhhhh!” She jumped, whirling around and bashing right into Christian's hard chest.

Jeez he had nice pecs...

Pointing her wand at his nose, she squinted her eyes. “That is not funny! Oh, I can't keep yooou,” she whined. “You have to go away! I have exams and I'm already failing. I can't afford to fail this year or I'm sunk. Do you hear me? Sunk!"

His large hands gripped her shoulders and he kissed the tip of her nose. “Well, pookey, ya got me ‘til death do us part. So, what can I do to help?"

Throwing her magic wand down in frustration she stomped her foot. “Help? You can't help me. How will I explain you to everyone? Look, Lila, Dex, I'm married. Isn't he cute? Yeah, I just whipped him up while I was flaming drunk. Whaddaya think about that? How's that for a little hocus pocus?"

Massaging her shoulders, he asked, “Who are Lila and Dex again?"

"Grrrr ... they're my friends."

"And why would they be upset because you're married?"

She pushed at him. “Because they missed the opportunity to give me a bachelorette party. Because Lila didn't get to wear purple? Why do you think?"

Pulling at the sheet, he grinned again. “Then, let's not tell them for a while. Let's stay here and get to know one another ... naked..."

Yanking it back, she stalked out to the living room where Rico slept quite peacefully by the fireplace. It was already nine and she had a class at ten. If she got lucky she could just manage a shower and she might still make it.

But she hadn't even practiced her spell.

Correction, she'd practiced all right and now she had a
husband
to show for it.

A husband...

Wait one second. If you thought about it, she'd successfully turned nothing into
something
... It wasn't like he'd been here
before
she cast that spell. She'd produced him out of thin air and that had to count for something. Right?

Focusing on this turn of events, she yelled for ... damn, what was his name? Christian. “Hey, Christian. C'mere. You and me, we got a exam to pass..."

[Back to Table of Contents]

Felicity strolled toward the classroom, dragging Christian behind her.

"I will not be used as some experiment, Felicity! I'm not just some piece of meat you can show off to your little witch friends,” he hissed at her.

"Ya want a place to live? Then you're my protein for the day, T-bone, so shut up, make nice and get your ass into this classroom. Because if you don't I will summon the Head-Genie guy and divorce you so quick it'll send you spinning back to that bottle you came from. Hear me?"

"I am not cattle,” he replied indignantly.

Felicity smiled at him smugly, “No, but you're my husband and it's all part of the marriage thing. You know, being supportive of my career and all?"

Eyeing her suspiciously, he formed his mouth into a thin line. “How does
this
qualify as a career?"

Now she was getting pissed. “Look, don't yank my crank over semantics."

Christian tugged her to him roughly and pecked her cheek. “Someone's crank has to be yanked, you sure weren't yankin’ mine. Just like the old days. You never were the warmest of women."

He had the hardest body she'd ever had the pleasure of being squished up against. It made her heart thump and her knees feel like butter. Sighing, she decided to threaten him. He already knew she was a crappy witch, but he didn't know
how
crappy. Trailing a finger over his lips, Felicity tilted her head back and licked her own seductively. “Christian,” she purred, “if you don't march into that classroom and sit like a nice genie while I tell everyone I whipped you up—I'll ship you back off to where you came from. Because I can, you know, just—like—that.” She snapped her fingers under his nose.

It was a total and complete fabrication, but he didn't need the 411 on it.

His jaw twitched. “Sort of the way you didn't really mean to summon me, roped me into this
mockery
of a marriage and now want me to be your school science project?"

Ooh, he was really a wise-ass. With a fabulous ass ... “Yeah, just like
that
."

"Oh, okay.” He let her go and held out his arm for her. “Shall we?"

It grew very quiet as Felicity made her entrance with Christian into the classroom. If she could pass this exam, the rest of the week would be hers to figure this mess out, send him back to the bottle he came from and prepare for her next exam.

"Spell Casting for Dummies” would never be the same.

He pulled out a chair for her and sat beside her quietly, folding his hands on the desktop and nodding to all of her fledgling witch classmates.

They buzzed furiously in one another's ears. She didn't care. She had a genie. Top that why don't ya!

Caroline tapped her shoulder from behind. “Who's
he
?"

"I'm her science project,” Christian turned, informing her proudly with a smile that dripped charm.

Felicity poked him in the ribs and leaned back in her chair. “He's my spell."

"Are you kidding? How in all of Castoffsphere did you do that?” Caroline gasped.

"It's a secret and if I told you that would be cheating and you don't want to be caught cheating, do you, Caroline? What would Mr. Beazley say?"

Caroline twittered with a nervous gesture. “I was just asking, jeez..."

"Well, I can't tell you,” she said firmly, tipping her chair back up.

"Mr. Beazley said we had to
show
him the spell."

"And what do you think
he
is? Is this not
showing
him? Can you see him, Caroline?” Felicity inquired arrogantly.

"Yeah, I see him and he's just some guy. A really hot guy, but just a guy."

Christian smiled again. “Thank—"

"—be quiet, would you?” Felicity said to him through clenched teeth. “Au contraire, Caroline, he's not just any guy—he's a
genie
..."

Everyone gasped. It rang through the air like the hiss of a balloon letting loose a rush of trapped wind.

"Oh, he is not, F,” Amber clucked. “He doesn't have pointy shoes or those faggy pants genies wear."

"There is
nothing
faggy about me—"

Felicity raised a warning eyebrow at him. He clamped his mouth shut. She heard the rumbling of chuckles. “Yes, he is, Amber, and I can prove it. You'll just have to wait and see it with your own two beady eyes."

Mr. Beazley arrived with a swoosh of his broom, just in time to save her from further explanation. “Sorry, I'm late, class. Let's get started right away. I'm eager to see what you all have in store for me.” He pointed a finger at Amber. “You're up first, Amber. We'll do this alphabetically..."

Two hours and Christian's eye popping, mouth gaping, magic carpet ride later, Felicity swaggered out past her classmates with a self-satisfied strut and a brand new magic wand.

Yippee skippee!

Christian followed behind with a gaggle of witches all lining up for a little
magic
on his carpet. His warm chuckle grated on her nerves as he fought the women off. “Ladies, thank you. You've all been really cool, but I gotta
fly
."

Each and every brainless twit giggled flirtatiously at his pun.

Felicity might have gagged if not for the fact that she was sporting a brand new magic wand and she was going to go home to break it in.

"Hey, wait for me,” he called after her. “You know,
F
, you're not exactly making me feel all warm and fuzzy on my honeymoon. By the way, why did you change your name?” Slinging an arm over her shoulder, he thumped her arm.

"Yeah? Well, it's my honeymoon too and I plan to bring it to a screeching halt the moment I wave my new magic wand at you. So c'mon, snookums, let's go home...” she said sweetly, letting her words trail off as they walked over the green lawn of the campus. “And my name has
always
been Felicity,” she added.

"That's okay by me. I never much cared for Fatima and you're not very nice, Felicity. I offer you my love and you mock me. I'm hurt."

Heads turned as they made their way to the cottages. “Gee, I'm real sorry to hear that. I'd feel even sorrier if I gave a crap. But, I don't."

Look what a little magic wand has done to you, Felicity Speillman. Have fame and fortune gone to your head? A little power and your ego has swelled? Are you so callous that you'd trample the little people who helped you climb the ladder of success
?