Werecats and Werelocks (Collection) (25 page)

BOOK: Werecats and Werelocks (Collection)
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"You bitch. Don't threaten me. What can a fool like you possibly hope to do to someone like
me
?"

Yeah, Felicity, what can you do? I mean, you're a witch who couldn't cast a spell if someone did it for you ... That's some purdy big talk from a chick that can't even open a can of tuna without your cat disappearing
.

It did not happen that way. I can so open a can of tuna...

Sure ya can, F. It's just that usually, what you mean to do and what happens are two separate entities
...

Well, maybe that was true, but she'd be fucked and feathered if this broad was taking her damn man. Felicity wondered for a brief moment where her magic wand was, but it lost its importance when her fingers began to tingle and she concentrated on the porcelain perfection that was Divinity's face. A red haze filtered over her vision. The threat Divinity posed infuriated Felicity, incited her enough to wish the genie stealer gone,
for good
...

In that moment, whatever possessed Felicity rumbled in the pit of her belly, clawed its way to her hand and made her raise it, splaying her fingers outward and pointing in Divinity's direction. The pause, before the ear splintering storm occurred, had Felicity's breath lodged in her throat.

Waving her hand in an arc, Felicity roared, “Go-the-fuck-away!"

The mere words, spoken with such venom, sprayed from her mouth. Almost instantly, Divinity cracked.

Like literally.

Her beautiful, perfect porcelain features shattered into a million pieces, exploding and landing at their feet in particles of fine, shimmering dust.

Felicity's hand immediately went to her mouth. She covered it in horror. “Ooohhhhh,” she wailed with startled surprise.

"Oh, indeed,” Christian commented dryly.

"Oh, my hell! What did I do?” Felicity fell to her feet, scraping the dust into her hands, thinking insanely she might be able to put Divinity back together. “Hurry and go get that Swiffer thing or the dustpan!"

"Well, wife, it would seem you made Divinity go away. Like really go away. Wee doggie, that was a fine display of magic, lamb chop.” Christian helped her to her feet and took her hands, tipping them to the floor and letting the sand drop at her feet. “That won't help, snookums. You can't put her back together like Humpty Dumpty."

"Oh my God! I killed her? I'm a murderer? I didn't mean to kill her, I swear I didn't. I only meant for her to go away. Oh, I'm going to be tried and hung for murder. Witch kills genie in fit of ownership rage. I can see the headlines now! I am soooo dead, Christian. My parents will kill me for the scandal of it all alone! Ohhhhhh—"

"F, honey! Get a grip. You didn't kill her. I promise you. But you did make her go away. I'm not sure where to, but she'll be fine."

Felicity trembled from head to toe as Christian led her to the couch and pulled her to sit on his lap, massaging her shoulders. Her mouth hung open as she caught the glint of laughter lining his lips. “This isn't funny, Aladdin! I don't know what I did to her and you're laughing?"

Kissing the tip of her nose, Christian chuckled, that low, throaty laugh that sent ripples of desire up her spine. “You did just what you wanted to, punkin'. You made her disappear. Mission accomplished, witch."

Holy shit. She had. She'd done exactly what she'd thought in her head—said out loud—thrown into the universe...

Wow.

"Note something else, F. You didn't have your magic wand with you."

As Christian spoke the words, reminding her that something incredible had just happened and she didn't even know how, she began to smile. Almost. “I didn't kill her? How can you be sure?"

"When a genie kicks it, there are no remains, F. Trust me, Divinity isn't dead. You just zapped her on outta here. I have to say, it was rather impressive."

"I—I ... I don't know how I did it."

Christian twirled a strand of her long hair around his finger. “Me neither, but it was awe inspiring."

Secretly, Felicity wanted to do the happy witchcraft dance. However, there was one small wrinkle in her joyous discovery. Divinity wouldn't have needed to be gone had it not been for Christian, who, it would seem, was a liar.

She poked a finger into his bare, solid chest. “You, genie, are in the shits. I think you can quit calling me wife now."

"Oh, yeah ... about that wife thing..."

"Yeah,
husband
. About that wife thing."

"Are we going to have a fight, F?"

"Why, yes, yes we are. A big one, I think."

"Does it mean I have to sleep on the couch again? Cuz it's small."

"No, it means you get to sleep outside where dogs like you belong."

"Of all the indignities, F. It was only a white lie."

"No, it was a Crayola rainbow pack of lies. Explain.
Now
."

"Oh, it was not! It was just one. Technically, I
am
yours."

"Ah, yes, but that doesn't make me your wife. It makes you my
slave
."

"Are you saying you want a divorce because if so, I want Rico in the split."

"Rico is mine, you liar."

"Okay, how about that really nice set of dishes you're bound to break next disastrous spell casting session?"

"David Copperfield?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Speak and try to lace it with at least some of the truth."

"I
did
tell the truth."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Aladdin?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Don't quibble semantics with me."

"Shutting up."

"Good, now explain and make it quick before I whack you one with my new, apparently magic, hands."

"That really was great, F."

"Quit with the schmooze and get to it. Explain."

"Well, let's see ... I am yours, technically, anyway. You did yank me from the bottle. However, Fatima, my dead wife, has the family from hell. My monster-in-law is only an inkling of how awful they can be. It's just like them to claim ownership of me. What they really want is my ability to grant them wishes. The Djinn only knows what they'd wish for. Power, money, something that would bring tragedy after tragedy, I'm sure."

"You're forgetting something here, magic man,” she reminded him as she turned to stare into his yummy gray-blue eyes.

"The wife thing, right?” he asked as if he didn't know that was the “thing” that troubled her most.

"Um, yeah. As I recall, I was your wife. Fatima was her name, you said. So, funny how I come to find out, from your freaky ex-mother-in-law, no less, that I'm not really your wife. Find that a little odd, do ya, genie?"

"Well, you do kinda look like her..."

"No, no, I don't think so. Charity/Chastity/whatever the hell her name is—is
not
a redhead. I am. In fact, we look nothing alike. Spit it out, Christian, or I promise you, I'm going to blow a gasket and well, I don't want to brag, but look what happened to your monster-in-law when I got a good pissed off happening."

"Yeah, that was sorta bad, huh?"

"Yeah. Now quit stalling."

"Well, when you sucked me out of my humble abode and you were all lying on the bed, it was kinda hot, ya know?"

Felicity frowned and narrowed her gaze, making him but a pinpoint of blurred genie.

"Oh, you're pissed, huh? Okay, look, I was stranded in that bottle for a long time. I knew you weren't my wife, but I do belong to you. I lied so you wouldn't have the ability to send me back. You do, you know—have the ability to send me back whenever you want to.” His hopeful look said he wanted reassurance.

The sentence hung in the air between them, just waiting for her to pooh-pooh the idea. But he'd lied to her just to save his genie butt from living a life of solitude in a bottle. A bottle that had every luxury known to man, except freedom.

He also worked like the dog he is to help you learn spells, Felicity. That has to mean something
.

It meant he was covering his ass and what better way than to endear himself to her by helping her to graduate from Castoffsphere so she'd be so grateful she'd keep him? Plus, he'd gotten a little nookie in the bargain. How very convenient.

"I know what you're thinking in that twisted head of yours and it's not entirely true, F. At first, I did claim you as my wife to keep from going back to that glass prison, but then it became something much more."

Yeah, it became a ride on his magic carpet of love, is what it became
...

"Something that has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with who you are, Felicity."

Oh, that's it, go for the jugular. Dammit all. “Forgive me if I don't believe you. If I were in your situation, I'd do whatever it took to keep from having to be shoved back in my Coke bottle too, Christian. I have a hard time believing you want anything more than your freedom, and I'm the key."

Christian shook his head. “Do you really believe I'm the kind of guy who could use you just to keep from being sentenced to a life of purgatory in a bottle?"

Felicity shot him a look of disbelief. “Helllooo, weren't you the one who went to the extreme by claiming I was your wife? If you ask me, that's a say anything kinda deal. Call me a pessimist, but I have a hard time believing any of the sappy shit you think you can throw my way."

Taking her hand, he placed it on his chest, caressing her fingers. “I know you don't believe me, F, but it's true. These past two weeks with you have been the best I've ever had. There's something between us that even you can't deny."

Felicity yanked her hand from his grasp and jumped off of his lap. “You know what that something is,
honeybunch
? My ability to send you back to your lamp, bottle, whatever the hell you came from! You lied to me and you've been lying to me all along. Whatever we have is based on your lies—falsehoods—fab-ric-a-tions! Ya got that? You've been playing me like a Stradivarius so you could save your own hide."

His voice was quiet as he spoke, “It began like that, F, but it isn't like that now. I know you're angry right now and you feel taken advantage of, but I'm telling you the truth.” His gray-blue eyes held hers with an intense gaze.

As much as she'd like to believe him, she just couldn't. Besides, genies and witches just didn't mix. She'd have to find a way to zap him back as soon as possible. Like she needed just a little more pressure in light of the fact that tomorrow was her big exam in her quest for that damn broom. “The only truth is that you don't want to go back to your bottle and the very second I figure out just how to do it—you're gone!"

Christian's jaw tilted upward in a hard line. Between clenched teeth he said, “You'll regret this, F."

Felicity stared him down, trying to read his eyes, but she couldn't see past his lying to her. Whirling away from him, she left him sitting on the couch and stomped off to her bedroom, slamming the door with a loud bang.

Tears stung her eyes and it wasn't just because she was furious with Christian. It was because she'd almost begun to believe he might really want her, even if he didn't have a lot of choice in the matter.

It was because she had to send him back and the idea of waking up and not having Christian to share with seemed kinda bleak.

Clearly, she needed to have her head examined.

Damn him.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Eight

Christian paced the bare floor of Felicity's cottage. She'd sailed out this morning without a word, stomping her way through her morning chores and leaving him with frigid stares in her wake.

Today was her big day and he'd hoped to see it in person, but her silence meant she didn't want to be tangled with. It was deafening and meant business.

Running a hand over his head, Christian sighed long and loud.

This was a dilemma that had taken on epic proportions. He'd known from the start he couldn't keep up the charade, but he'd planned to wait until F had her broom before he told her the absolute truth. Not just because he didn't want to go back to his bottle, but because he wanted her focused. He wanted her to succeed because it was important to her.

Fuck Divinity for showing up and making his life miserable. More miserable than he'd been when he was married to Fatima.

He wanted Felicity. That she'd released him from the bottle didn't matter anymore. He wanted to spend an eternity helping her learn spells she fudged because whatever wires were crossed in her witch gene pool didn't work. He wanted to spend an eternity making love to her, laughing with her, taking her on magic carpet rides.

Convincing her that was the truth wasn't going to happen overnight.

After Divinity, it might
never
happen.

He just couldn't let Divinity fuck this up. In fact, he
wouldn't
let her.

Now, he just had to figure out how to do it. He knew Divinity well enough to know she wasn't so far gone that she wouldn't be back. Divinity was right. By Djinn law, Christian was hers through the death of Fatima, but the snag in Divinity's well-woven blanket of bullshit was Felicity and the spell that had broken Fatima's curse.

It had to mean
something
. The Djinn were nothing if not fair and he couldn't see them taking what, by some crazy fluke, had become Felicity's. He'd go to the Djinn if he had to. Even if it meant Felicity couldn't keep him, he'd rather have his skin peeled off than end up with Divinity. Hell, he'd go back to his bottle first.

Damn greedy bitch.

Christian couldn't help but wonder where F had ended up sending her. He was also wondering just how she'd come up with the power to summon up such a grand feat without her magic wand.

Something just wasn't right about how on and off her spells turned. It wasn't just that she was dyslexic. That sure as hell hadn't mattered when she'd whacked Divinity. Felicity had been angry, furious even and that had to play a role in how her magic worked. Christian just needed to figure out what and why and maybe together, they could tap into the emotion and make it work for them.

Them
.

That was the key word here. Christian no longer thought in terms of just him. He thought about them. He and Felicity as a couple.

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