Magically Delicious Page 4

  I was tempted to stick to the fruit, but I was jonesing for pancakes with salsa and whipped cream. Now all I had to do was lose twenty-five Shifters… and one interfering warlock… and I was good to gorge.

  “What is this place?” I directed my question to Wanda and Simon as they handed out wicker baskets to the group.

  “Don’t really know,” Simon replied. “It’s been here as long as I can remember. Must be glamoured though.”

  “Why do you say that?” I asked, accepting a basket so I wouldn’t reveal my nefarious plan to eat my own weight in carb-y goodness.

  “No human has ever stepped foot in the area. Only magicals,” Roger explained with his pink nose twitching in the cold air. “It’s basically a wrinkle in time.”

  “Ohhhh, I loved that book,” I said.

  “No, no, dear, not the book. Although, I adored that one too,” Roger said with a smile. “This place is a wrinkle. It’s not on any map. It doesn’t exist.”

  “Not possible,” I countered, skeptically. “There’s either a spell on the land or all you guys have been drinking before four in the afternoon.”

  “Has to be a spell,” Fabio said glancing around in appreciation. “I’ve heard about places like this, but have never come across one before.”

  “Is it dangerous? Are we in some witch or warlock’s territory?” I asked, trying to get a sense of malice in the area.

  Fabio paced a large circle and I followed on his heels. The Shifters watched us with curiosity, but very little concern. It was clear they’d been visiting this wrinkle for many years and had no problems.

  “I sense something, but I don’t think it’s evil.” Fabio shrugged but continued to scan the horizon.

  “Are the berries poisonous?” I examined a bush loaded down with plump orange and purple berries. They looked delicious, but I’d learned the hard way that looks could be wildly deceiving.

  “They’re fine,” Wanda assured my dad and me. “We’d all be dead as doornails of they were lethal. I’ve been baking with these babies for decades.”

  “And will you be baking with what you gather today?” I asked, giving my dad the stink eye.

  He was conveniently examining his nails.

  “Well… ” Wanda hesitated, and if I wasn’t mistaken rolled her eyes a smidge. “I’m working on a new crust made with only almonds and honey. So yes, I’m going to give it a shot.”

  A shudder of happiness skittered through me. Maybe there was a way around the no carb rule after all. I could get on board with honey and almond crust as long as I had a bottle of hot sauce and maybe some guacamole to put on top.

  “Okay people,” Roger, my porno-loving therapist called out, hopping up and down and looking more like a rabbit than he did when shifted. “Stay in groups of two or three and meet back here in an hour. Bob, please don’t eat the yellow berries. They don’t agree with you and I refuse to be asphyxiated on the bus ride home. Again.”

  “There’s something to look forward to,” I muttered and said a quick prayer to the Goddess that Bob followed the rules.

  Bob gave a weak thumbs up and slunk off into the berry patch with a few other beavers. His lack of vocal assurance didn’t bode well for a fart free ride back. I could always whip up some nose plugs for my neighbors. While some might argue that I’d be using my magic for self-serving purposes, I’d maintain my innocence in that I was defending my people against a deadly gastric invasion. However, Bob—if guilty—would not be receiving any olfactory assistance.

  My sense of smell had increased tenfold with my pregnancy. Bob the beaver could lose more than just friends if he had a tooting issue in an enclosed space with me. I was curious what the berries tasted like, but vowed to avoid the yellow ones as well. I was far too polite to suffocate my friends.

  “Ididntgetabaskethowdoicarrymyberrieswithoutabasket?” Chunk the gum-smacking, marble mouthed chipmunk Shifter fretted, running around in circles and pulling on his shock of wiry hair.

  While the entire group from Assjacket tried to figure out what in the hell he’d just said, I waved my hand and produced a few more baskets for those who didn’t get one. I even kept the price point down. In the old days, I would have conjured up a Longaberger. However, since Chunk was notorious for losing and/or destroying things, I went for something sturdy, simple and cheap.

  “Here you go,” I said handing the little weirdo his basket and giving him a quick hug.

  “Thankyouoshifterwankeralmighty,” he said with a respectful bow.

  “Dude, drop the almighty part. While I do enjoy a nice ass-kissing as much as the next witch, pissing off the Goddess is not my idea of fun. She can be a gaping butthole extraordinaire.”

  “Duck,” Fabio shouted as a zap of purple lightning hurtled down from the clouds aimed at my ass.

  “Motherhumpinshitmonsters,” I screeched, grabbing Sassy’s water bottle and dousing my smoldering butt.

  The crowd dispersed like confetti from a clown cannon as I took my stinging punishment with a few new swear words and the real need to lift my middle finger at the sky.

  I refrained. One massive ass zapping was enough for me.

  “Zelda, darling,” Fabio said, trying not to grin. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine,” I grumbled through clenched teeth as the Shifters peeked out from beneath bushes and a couple from branches in the trees. “Everything is fine here. You all can just go about your business. Nothing to look at except a hole in my pants.”

  “Your balls are ginormous,” Sassy congratulated me.

  “Pretty sure I might have just lost one in that transaction,” I said, rubbing my butt.

  “Do you think it was the gaping part or the butthole part?” Sassy questioned as she very creatively pulled us in a different direction than the rest of the group.

  “I’m gonna go with that it was the combination of the two,” I told her, watching with relief as my dad wandered off in a trio with Simon and his sweet gal pal, Meg.

  “We have an hour,” I whispered when I was sure we were out of earshot. “Let’s walk this way for about ten minutes and then get down to business.”

  “Did you bring Ho Hos?” she whispered.

  “Nope,” I lied, feeling for the precious chocolaty surprise in my pocket. “We’re gonna conjure up our feast.”

  She skipped ahead and darted in and out of bushes. I picked a few berries and popped them in my mouth as I watched her do an awkward cartwheel and bash into a tree. She let out a yelp and then slapped her hand over her mouth. Shaking my head, I lambasted myself for bringing her in as my partner in crime. Sassy and her Sassy ways were gonna get us so busted.

  “Enough with the Cirque de Soleil,” I snapped. “If you break something, I have to heal you and then we have less time to eat. That will make me unhappy and I like to blow shit up when I’m unhappy. Are we on the same page?”

  “Of what?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “That’s what I just asked,” she replied, annoyed.

  “You lost me.”

  “Well, what page are you on? Ten? Seven? Two hundred and three? How can I know if I’m on the same page of I don’t know what page you’re on?”

  “It was a figure of speech,” I ground out.

  “You really need to stop showing off your multi lingual-ness,” she complained with an eye roll and a huff. “Some of us only speak English.”

  Shoving my hands into my pockets so I didn’t zap her toothless, I held on to my sanity by a thread. I had to lose her or she was going to lose something important—like her eyebrows. What had seemed like a brilliant idea in theory was turning out to be a disaster in practice.

  I was about to do something that I might regret as I had a limited supply of Ho Hos, but it was the right thing to do if I was going to ditch her.

  “Sassy, I’m pretty sure a left my magical food wand on the bus.”

  “You have a magical food wand?” she shouted as her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Why in the hell don’
t I have a magic food wand?”

  “Um… because you only receive a magic food wand when you’re pregnant,” I explained, hoping she’d buy the crap I was selling.

  Fortunately, she did. Hook line and sinker.

  “I knew that,” she said, nodding like a bobble head. “We all receive different wands for different needs.”

  I nodded carefully. We didn’t need wands at all. Witches only used them for show or if we were bored. Brooms were the same. We flew without the aid of anything physical. I was pretty sure most of the props came from fairy tales. All of our magic was innate and within our bodies—a gift from the Goddess.

  “I have a magical orgasm wand,” she confided in a delighted whisper.

  “That’s called a vibrator.”

  “Your point?” she demanded, slapping her hands on her hips and raising a brow. The very same brow she was seconds away from losing.

  “My point is I need the magical food wand. How about I give you a Ho Ho and you go get it then come back here?”

  “A Ho Ho?”

  “Yep,” I said, withdrawing it from my pocket and dangling it in her face the very same way Mac had done with me.

  “I’d give up my left boob for a Ho Ho,” she confided seriously. “And it’s the slightly bigger one.”

  With a wince of horror at what she’d just overshared and what I was about to give up, I handed over the Ho Ho. “You can keep your slightly larger mammary. Just go back to the bus and get the wand.”

  “What if I can’t find you?”

  “Then just eat the Ho Ho and I’ll meet you in an hour.”

  “Works for me,” she said as she skipped off, narrowly missing a low hanging branch.

  I watched her until she was out of sight and made a run for some better cover. Meeting up with a Shifter or Goddess forbid, a carb-eating fairy was not on my schedule.

  Pancakes and cheese covered Milky Ways were.

  Chapter Six

  Instead of running, I decided to fly. The scenery below was breathtaking. It was not December here at all. The temperature was a balmy seventy degrees and the plant life exploded in glorious harmony with the Earth. Whoever did this was extremely powerful and very finely attuned with nature.

  Touching my still flat stomach, I sighed and grinned. It amazed me to no end that I had two tiny babies inside me. While the thought still terrified me, my joy was starting to push my fear aside. Nothing seemed quite real yet, but I knew it was happening.

  “Hi guys,” I whispered with a carefree giggle. “Are you hungry? Mommy has some big plans today.”

  Of course there was no answer. I would have dropped out of the sky if they’d replied, but it was fun to talk to Lucky and Charm.

  “Pancakes, beef flavored ice cream, and tacos with whipped cream, here we come!”

  Wait.

  I froze and hung mid air. Guilt overwhelmed me and I wanted to cry. Nothing unusual about that as of late, but this was different.

  I felt horrible. Frustratingly, my dad was right about my eating habits.

  And to make matters uglier, I’d lied to Mac about working out with Sassy—totally unacceptable. Mac was my mate and the father of my unborn canines. There was no way I was going to jeopardize my happiness with the wolf of my dreams over Ho Hos.

  I was putting crap in my body. I was feeding Lucky and Charm food equally as unhealthy as their namesake cereal. What the hell was wrong with me? Was I so selfish that I was poisoning my babies?

  Was I as awful as my own mother?

  Floating down to the ground and seating myself next to a bush loaded down with rainbow colored berries, I pondered my predicament. I popped a few in my mouth and went to work on a new plan. Damn, but the berries were tasty.

  Breakfast had been good this morning. While I did miss pancakes and toast with ketchup and mustard, I didn’t feel the need to behead anyone after my high protein, heavy veggie and fruit morning meal. If Wanda really could make a healthy crust, I could still eat sweets. They might not hold up to the sterling flavor of a Twinkie slathered in pizza sauce, but I’d be able to sleep at night knowing I was being a good mom.

  “Little dudes,” I said, touching my stomach. “I’m so sorry about the last few weeks. There’s a new sheriff in town and she’s gonna eat stuff that would make Dr. Spock proud. You in?”

  A warm cozy tingle in my tummy made me gasp. As much as I knew my babies—or puppies—were alive inside me, it was the first time I’d felt their presence. With renewed determination to shun Ho Hos, Twinkies, and all things chemical, I stood up and tried to get a sense of where in the hell I actually was.

  “I think we might be a little lost,” I told my stomach. “Mommy’s epiphany made me lose track of where I was flying.”

  And that’s when I saw something strange.

  It was tiny and as colorful as the berries, but it was definitely not a berry. Berries didn’t have wings and didn’t giggle like deranged maniacs. Berries didn’t have pieces of cookies in their hands because berries didn’t have hands.

  Shitballs. Maybe the odometer on the bus was wrong. Maybe we weren’t over fifty miles out of Assjacket.

  Or maybe the carb-eating fairies followed us.

  Or maybe I’d lost my ever-loving mind.

  Nope. The high-pitched giggling was real and slightly disturbing. Maybe the fairies had created the berry patch.

  “Um, hi,” I called out, ready to pop the shit out of the little turds if they were violent. I had much more to protect and live for now. “I’m Zeldo… umannawanna. Show yourselves.”

  I winced inwardly and almost laughed aloud at my pathetic butchering of my own name, but I had decided mid-sentence not to reveal my real identity to the tiny flying freaks.

  There were five of them and they all spoke at once in a language I had no hope of understanding. Thankfully, they seemed pleased to meet me and I did hear them try and wrap their tiny tongues around Zeldoumannawanna. It was all kinds of not going to work…

  “Is this your territory?” I asked.

  They flitted around in circles with their tiny noses wrinkled in confusion. Clearly they didn’t understand my language anymore than I understood theirs. I briefly wondered if they’d understand Chunk. Goddess knew most people couldn’t. However, what I did understand was their frantic waving and pointing. They beckoned me to follow.

  What to do…

  Were they leading me back to the bus or were they leading me into some sort of trouble? Only one way to find out. They were tiny and I knew I could eliminate them, but they’d given me no reason thus far. The cookies they held were more appealing than they were, but I was off of that shit. No more cookies for me.

  Grabbing a few berries so I didn’t lunge for their cookies, I followed the little carb eaters deeper into the berry patch. Pausing for a moment, I closed my eyes and let the Goddess guide my instincts. I detected no malice whatsoever… and now I was curious.

  “What the hey-hey?” I squealed with delight out as we came to a clearing and my eyes landed on a life sized gingerbread house—made of real gingerbread.

  Not only was it made of gingerbread, the adorable small cottage had a wildly colorful gumdrop roof and thick white icing for windowsills. The pink tinted widows were surely made of spun cotton candy and there was a chocolate pretzel gate. It was every pregnant witch’s dream come true—or at least it was mine. It just needed some hot sauce and it would be perfection.

  The fairies dove on the house and began nibbling away. I carefully opened the yummy gate and walked toward the eighth wonder of the world. It took every bit of willpower I had not to rip off the gate and cram it in my mouth.

  “Is this your house?” I called out to the fairies, who ignored me as if I wasn’t there.

  They were voracious eaters with sharp little teeth, but since their mouths were so tiny they barely made a dent in the house. As awestruck as I was, I was also cognizant that cute gingerbread houses usually came with evil witches… at least according to fairy tales.
>
  Again, only one way to find out.

  I knocked tentatively at the door that I discovered was made out of chocolate. I might have licked my knuckles a few times. And I might have knocked longer than necessary, but it was chocolate and I wasn’t made of steel.

  “Anybody home?” I asked, continuing to knock—and lick.

  The carb-eating fairies were worthless. Not being able to understand their odd chattering didn’t help, but they didn’t even hang around to meet the owner. They’d eaten and then flew away when I started to knock. It was just the edible house and me.

  Shit.

  “One bite, Zelda,” I instructed myself sternly. “Just one small bite. It’s somebody’s home, for Goddess’s sake. You can’t eat someone’s shelter no matter what it’s made of.”

  Who would know? Clearly the owner wasn’t home. What kind of idiot built their house out of cookies and candy and expected it not to get eaten? Honestly, I would have preferred sour cream and onion chips with a few grande burritos thrown in, but the gingerbread was still working for me.

  Carefully peeling off a small corner of the door and dipping ever so lightly in the windowsill, I ate it. Sweet Goddess on a spaceship headed straight to Hell, it was the best chocolate and vanilla icing I’d ever tasted.

  “Just one more little corner,” I promised myself aloud as if actually speaking the words would make me stick to the plan.

  It wasn’t until I came up for air that I realized I’d consumed the entire door, part of the windowsill and about a third of the chimney.

  “Fuck,” I muttered, feeling awful. My self-control was nonexistent. What kind of mother was I going to be if I wasn’t able to stop myself from eating people’s houses?

  “I’m an awful mother. I suck. I don’t deserve my puppies. Sassy is a better mother than I am. Well, not really,” I mumbled, realizing my self-flagellation had gone a bit too far—but only the Sassy part. The rest was sadly true.

  “You like my house, chickie?” a fairly neutral female voice asked from behind me.