Magic, New Mexico: Touch of Madness (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 5

  She tipped up Theo’s cowboy hat, casting him a smirk that made him want to lock her up in his jail for eternity.

  “I don’t have time for your games, Hera.”

  She rolled a finger down his tense arm. “Apparently, you do.”

  “I have videotapes of the woman committing second degree robbery up and down Main Street, but she insists that she didn’t do it. Do you know anything about this?”

  “So, you arrested her?” Hera asked.

  Theo glared.

  She threw her head back and laughed. “That’s rich. That probably wasn’t a good idea, Sheriff.”

  Dread crept over him. “Why?”

  She stood toe-to-toe to him. Topper lifted her wand in a silent warning, but Hera didn’t seem to be phased.

  “Because dragon-boy, she’s your soulmate.”

  Theo didn’t argue. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t deny how he felt when he was around Gwen, but he wasn’t going to let Hera know about his little secret.

  Topper glanced between them. “How do you know this, Hera?”

  Hera glanced at Theo. “If you don’t believe me, ask him.”

  “Theo?” Topper looked at her questionably. “Did you feel something that you’re not telling me?”

  “I just find her attractive, that’s all.” He wasn’t ready to admit anything different, but the dragon within him growled, as if it were angry that he was defying his dragon-mate.

  “Liar,” Hera said. “I can see it in your eyes, Theo. She’s yours, and you locked her up in jail. Not exactly warming yourself to her heart, are you?”

  Anger simmered inside Theo like a kettle threatening to sing. “You’re trying my patience, Hera.”

  “You’re not painting yourself in a good light for us or the council,” Topper said.

  “Fiddle-dee-dee, you’re both such grumps.” She narrowed her eyes. “You started it, Theo, by taking my wand, so yes, I cast a spell on your beloved.”

  “Oh, Hera, no,” Topper groaned. “What kind of a spell?”

  “One of my own making, Topper. One you can’t undo.”

  Theo pulled out his silver handcuffs. “You have two seconds to tell me what the hell you did before I haul you into the station for questioning.”

  “Poo! All right. When your mate, dragon-boy, was hurtling through time, I saw her and cast a spell. She split in two. One evil, the other good. All the good qualities your little soulmate has are the exact opposite in the other.”

  “Jaysus!” Theo clenched the cuffs tight in his hand.

  Topper’s hair turned from purple to fiery red, and her eyes blazed with anger. “What is the antidote?”

  Hera smiled. “Oh, there’s an antidote, but that depends on you, Theo.”

  He shoved the cuffs back onto his belt and debated whether he should take out his gun and shoot her right between her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “She can only be healed by love’s true kiss. Anything less, and she remains in two.” She pulled out her phone. “Oh, and by the way, if she’s not whole by the next new moon, by dawn, both halves will have faded into oblivion. First thing to go will be your mate’s mind. She’ll be as decisive as the Scarecrow inThe Wizard of Oz.”

  Theo had never paid anything to the moon cycles. He wasn’t a bloody werewolf. “So, that’s–”

  “In two days,” Topper interrupted. “You have exactly two days to break the spell.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  Hera shrugged. “Both halves will drop dead at dawn.”

  And he’d go postal.

  He thought of all the people he loved in Magic–the twins, Pandora, Topper–and couldn’t risk losing them. Hating to have to beg, he asked, “If I give you back your wand, can you reverse it?”

  Excitement shone in Hera’s eyes.

  Topper grabbed his arm. “Theo, don’t. It’s what she wants. Besides, Gwen’s your soulmate. All you have to do is awaken her desire for you.”

  “I put her in my jail, Topper. She’s not exactly begging for me.”

  “She’s your soulmate,” she said gently. “She can’t deny you, even if she wants to.”

  God, he hoped she was right for both their sakes.

  She looked at Hera. “You have sealed your fate, witch. You’ll be lucky if you can stay in Magic.”

  “Umpf! Like I want to stay here. Unless Theo is going to arrest me or the council makes a decision, this is my land.” She pointed at the road. “Now get off.”

  Topper twirled her wand over her head. “Bobbity-Lobbity-Gobbity Dee.” Red, purple, and yellow sparks flew out of her wand into a mini tornado.

  “What are you doing?” Hera edged back. Fear clung to her voice.

  The colorful whirlwind spun around, then floated over to Hera and her home. Flowers of every color burst through the windy tornado.

  “I have bound you, Hera. You’ll not be able to leave your home until we have made our decision. And if you cast a spell, it will descend on you. So, be careful what you wish for.”

  “I hate you!” Hera spat. “Get off my land.” She spun on her heels and ran back into her home, then slammed the door shut.

  Theo headed back toward the car. “I guess we’ve been dismissed. Will your spell really work?”

  “My spells always work,” Topper said. “That’s why I’m head of the council. Now, let’s go see your soulmate.”

  The very last person he wanted to see. How could he tell her that unless she fell in love with him, she’d be dead in two days? And how could he tell Topper that if his soulmate died, he’d become their worst nightmare? His only choice would be to flee to protect the ones he loved.

  Chapter Eight

  Gwen looked outside the unbreakable glass that she’d tried to break numerous times. Her bleeding and scraped knuckles could testify against that. She’d never known glass could be unbreakable.

  “Finally stopped trying to break out, pirate? You’re not the smartest cupcake we have had in here.”

  She whirled around to see Martin the Mummy watching her with black eyes that peered out beneath his bandages. She shuddered.

  “At least I’m not a mole feast.”

  He chuckled. “Still got your sense of humor.”

  He brought in a plate of food of some kind of sandwich and long thin fried potatoes. She hoped his peeling fingers hadn’t fallen into her food, but her stomach didn’t care and growled hungrily. She licked her parched lips.

  “Hungry?” Martin smirked. “I brought you a burger and fries.”

  She frowned. “What is a burger and fries?”

  He laughed. “Seriously? You’re pulling my leg.”

  She cringed. His wobbly leg would probably pop off.

  He put the tray down on the floor then unlocked the lock. Gwen moved against the wall. She inhaled the scent of decay that sent her empty stomach doing flips.

  When he set the tray on a small table, his keys were caught on the metal bars of a nearby chair and slid off his belt, landing precariously off the edge. Surprisingly, he didn’t grab them. Maybe he didn’t see or feel it, because his pants were so loose around his hips.

  “Bon appétit, pirate.”

  He laughed like a shaking kettle.

  Her heart beat rapidly, and she broke out in a hot sweat. Every impulse inside her wanted to launch. She stuck her shaking hands behind her, and she took a deep breath, forcing herself not to stare at the dangling keys.

  He opened the door then slammed it shut. She jumped, which made him sneer. The keys slipped down dangerously close, and she held her breath, afraid they’d crash onto the floor. He strolled out of the corridor, chuckling.

  The keys fell off the chair. Gwen moved faster than she ever thought she could and caught them in midair. She unlocked the door with her shaking hand. It squeaked open, and she cringed, waiting for the rotting mummy to crash through the door.

  Luck was on her side, and he didn’t make an appearance. Maybe his hearing wasn’t working. Her stomach growled angrily
again. She couldn’t resist grabbing the sandwich and took a huge bite of meat, lettuce, and tomato. Juice ran down her chin. It was loaded with melted cheese that was like nothing she’d ever tasted.

  She edged out of the cell, her legs shaking. Her heart pounding, she slowly emerged out of the cell, watching the door. She swallowed another a mouthful, then chewed as fast as she could, afraid this would be her last meal for a while.

  She walked down the corridor in the opposite direction of the door that Martin had come through. She gripped the half-eaten sandwich and the keys in her other hand. She wished she had her weapons, but Theo had taken her sword and pistol. She had no way to defend herself if the mummy caught her.

  Gwen hurried down the corridor, passing empty cells, until she reached another door. She stuffed the rest of the sandwich into her mouth, nearly choking. She stuck the first key into the lock, then turned it, but it wouldn’t budge.

  Damn!

  There were at least ten keys on the chain, and it could be any one of them. Taking a deep breath, she tried the second one, but was met with the same disappointment.

  Something shuffled behind her. She looked over her shoulder but didn’t see anything.

  Her hand trembling, she tried the third one, but it stubbornly wouldn’t move.

  The shuffling grew louder. Down the dark corridor, something white was moving.

  “I see you, pirate!”

  A loud voice growled, stilling Gwen’s heart.

  She put the next key in the lock, but her fingers trembled so badly, the keys dropped. They landed with a huge clank.

  She clasped the keys off the floor as fast as she could, then jammed it into the lock.

  It turned. She kicked open the door. Freedom rose in front of her–the setting sun, cactus, and chirping crickets.

  Someone grabbed her and tossed her back into the dark corridor. She landed flat on her back, knocking the wind out of her. She stared up at Martin, not to see black eyes, but glowing red ones.

  She jumped up, then he lunged.

  She screamed.

  Martin landed on top of her, his body amazingly strong. He braced both her wrists with his hands and held them high over her head.

  “You bitch, you thought you were pretty slick stealing my keys.”

  Gwen struggled, but he’d pinned her arms and legs. She gagged on his moldy breath. “I didn’t…steal…your keys…. Get…off…me!”

  “You’ll see what happens when you try to outwit me.”

  He opened his mouth to reveal jagged teeth. She froze. He was a mummy–not a vampire.

  She wiggled, desperately trying to escape. Her full stomach tumbled threateningly, and she could taste cheese slowly rising up her throat.

  Something heavy thudded on the floor, and it was as if an earthquake rocked her and Martin. A loud shriek stole her breath. A crack spread across the ceiling, and bits of it fell onto the floor.

  Martin jerked his head up, dust falling on his head and shoulders. “Theo? She was trying to escape.”

  Fear lingered in his voice. She followed Martin’s gaze, and her heart nearly exploded in her chest. A dragon as big as her brother stared at them with blazing gold eyes. Smoke puffed out of its flaring nostrils, as if warning them that at any minute they’d both be burned to a crisp. It could barely fit inside the corridor.

  “Martin, I suggest you get off her before you’re burned to a crisp,” said a female voice behind the orange dragon.

  “But she was trying to escape,” Martin stammered. “She stole my keys.”

  “You’re pressing your luck,” the voice said.

  Martin turned his gaze toward Gwen. “See what you’ve done.” He slowly crawled off her, then snatched her wrist, pulling her to her feet.

  She was between the toothy mummy and an angry dragon. Her knees banged together, and all that could move was her speeding heartbeat.

  “Theo,” the female voice said. “You’re scaring your soulmate.”

  Gwen frowned. Soulmate? This thing had a mate. Lordy, was the woman talking about her? This couldn’t be happening. Panic swelled inside her. She whirled around and shoved Martin as hard as she could.

  Martin staggered.

  Gwen rushed past him, but once again, he was faster than she’d thought. He snagged her hair and her arm. She cried out.

  A loud hiss echoed down the corridor, and fire whizzed over the top of her head, shooting the temperature up one hundred degrees.

  Martin threw her down the hallway. “Don’t fry me, boss! I was only doing my job.”

  Her hair covered her eyes, and she couldn’t see. Her heart pounding itself into a heart attack, she swung both her arms and kicked her feet, expecting to hit a hard side. “Stay away from me! Leave me alone!”

  “Easy, Gwen,” a masculine voice said. “No one is going to hurt you. I promise you.”

  Strong arms wrapped around her, holding her trembling body, pressing her small frame to a large chest. She recognized the husky voice. It was Theo. She looked up into his eyes, trying to figure out how he’d gotten past the dragon. She wrapped her fists into his shirt and held on tight, afraid he’d let her go. Her heart was beating so fast she thought she’d die in his arms.

  As if reading her mind, he said, “I’m not going anywhere.”

  He brushed the back of his fingers across her cheek. She inhaled his spicy breath, and it strangely calmed her. He tilted his head, and she couldn’t take her eyes off his lips. Lord, he was going to kiss her. She’d kissed men before and couldn’t figure out why her spine turned yellow now. ’Twas as if she was like Grace and had never kissed a man.

  He brushed his mouth over her trembling lips. The tender caress was ravishingly gentle and helped her slowly stop shaking. It was such a shocking contrast to Martin assaulting her and the angry dragon that she made no move to stop him from deepening his kiss.

  She should stop what she was doing and thank him properly for saving her. When had being proper ever entered her mind? Ignoring her scolding thoughts, she moved her hands up his large chest, marveling at his sculpted muscles and admiring his strength. She locked her arms around his neck and opened her mouth wider to taste his comfort. For a minute, she forgot where she was, and all she cared about was kissing Theo, but as her breath returned to normal, so did her senses.

  She gently pushed him away, still tasting his spiciness on her lips. He released her, sitting back on his heels as if trying to gather his composure as much she was.

  She panted. “Did you see that? It was a dragon?”

  He avoided her eyes. “I know. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  She digested his words. She slowly looked up into his golden eyes–the same eyes the dragon had.

  “You’re the dragon,” she whispered–and she’d kissed him. But it wasn’t just that, she’d liked it and wanted more. This was too much. After her brother had turned into a dragon, she should be used to this, but her mind was spinning.

  “Apparently,” he said grimly. “We need to talk.” He looked down the hallway. “Martin, you need to hear this, too.”

  Gwen pressed her back against the wall, trying to comprehend what had just happened. She could barely catch her breath.

  “Sure, boss, just don’t fry me,” Martin mumbled as he slowly shuffled toward them.

  “Yes, we all need to have a discussion.”

  Gwen turned her head toward the female voice to see a woman with a lovely shade of purple hair and a white blouse and a knee-length skirt. Didn’t any of the women here mind showing off their legs? God, she sounded like Grace. She rubbed her temple as the thought pierced her befuddled brain. Although they were exactly alike, she never sounded like Grace. She’d never cared what women were before.She was the rebellious one–not the virtuous one.

  Something was wrong with her.

  The woman smiled. “Hello, Gwen. I’m Topper.” Concern filled her eyes. “You look like you could use a drink.”

  That was the best thing Gwen had heard yet. �
��Rum,” she choked. “I’d like a shot of rum.”

  “Then come with me, my dear.” She stuck her hand. “I promise I won’t bite.”

  Not having much of a choice, Gwen slowly took her hand, which was comforting.

  “Let’s go back into the Sheriff’s office, shall we?” She looked over Gwen’s head. “Come on, you two.”

  Gwen allowed Topper to lead her out of the falling-apart corridor to a chair that actually had wheels. She gingerly sat down and hoped the damn thing didn’t do something unexpected. Surprises were about ready to put her in an early grave.

  “You said you wanted a shot of rum?”

  Gwen pushed her hair behind her ears. “Aye, please.”

  Topper touched the wooden desk with a wand that Gwen hadn’t even seen her hand. Suddenly, a bottle of rum and a shot glass magically appeared.

  Gwen surged to her feet, knocking over the chair. “You’re a witch.”

  “Yeah, she is.” Theo came up behind Gwen. “But she’s a good one. You need her help.”

  Gwen moved her hand through her hair. “I need her help? What are you? Mad? A witch just cursed me. I don’t think I can take another spell.”

  “Not all spells are evil.” He picked up the overturned chair and motioned with his hand. “You need to hear what she has to say.”

  His grave voice caught her interest.

  Martin slid back into where he was when she’d first come into the jail behind a screen. “So, what’s up Topper? And if anybody cares, I’d like a beer.”

  “Of course, Martin.” Topper tapped his desk, and a tall pilsner appeared with a golden brew.

  “Thanks, Topper.”

  “Please, have a seat, Gwen?” Theo asked, his eyes pleading.

  “Just don’t turn me into a frog.” Gwen slid into the chair, then opened the bottle of rum, hoping it wasn’t a mistake. She poured herself a shot and tossed it back, needing a bit of courage–even artificial courage. The alcohol was surprisingly smooth–not gritty like back home–warming her insides, but suddenly, she went into a coughing fit, tears filling her eyes.

  Theo jumped up and patted her back. “Are you okay? The last time, you took a long draught from a bottle of rum without a flinch. I thought you could handle rum. Martin, get some water.”