How to Marry a Warlock in 10 Days (17 page)

“Dare I even ask what waits for me in Loudun?”

Merlin looked at him, the lines around his eyes crinkling with amusement. “You shouldn’t, but you will anyway. So I’ll save you the trouble. In the 1600s, Loudun was the site of a huge clusterfuck.”

Dred’s chi was irretrievably porked. Merlin was supposed to be a holy man. He wasn’t supposed to say “fuck.” Of course, he wasn’t supposed to be hanging around in the ether “pounding the backside out of Nimue” either. Or so he’d always been taught.

“The possessions at Loudun, right? That was all just a power grab: Cardinal Richelieu wanted to oust Father Grandier because he opposed him politically. The cardinal convinced the nuns to say they were possessed, but it may well have been born from sexual frustration on their part. Or so some scholars say. Grandier was said to be handsome. . . .”

“Blah, blah, whatever, Dred. It doesn’t matter that it was all unicorn piss to start with. You of all people, should know that when you fart around with powers unknown, even in jest, Bad Things ensue.”

“What do I want with the evil that’s there then? I’d do better to stay home.”

“Yes, you would at that, my boy. You would at that, but you won’t because Loudon is where you will find clues to the lamia you’re hunting. As trite as it sounds, only you and Middy can stop this. Make no mistake, you must!”

“Why can’t you do it? I thought you were all powerful or some rot?”

“I am all powerful, the gods’ god. The Bigger Boss. But I can’t interfere.” Merlin shrugged. “All this cross-pantheon nonsense has our hands tied with red tape. You know how it is. Warlock’s Council, Gods’ Council . . . the bureaucracy never ends.”

“Aren’t you interfering now?”

“Not really. This is a dream. You could have made this up yourself.” Merlin leaned in. “But if you did make this up, you’d be a little wrong in the head if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask you.”

“That’s the beauty of it.” Merlin looked very pleased with himself. “Anyway, you’re going to wake up in about five seconds. Take Middy to Loudun by way of the broom.

You should stop and enjoy the sights on your way, if you know what I’m saying.” Merlin winked and nudged him so hard, Dred was sure he’d broken a rib. He was still rubbing the spot when he woke up. He turned to Middy, but her place in the bed was empty.

Dred found he didn’t care for that empty spot. It was bullshit. He was the one who crawled out of bed in the early dawn, and it was the witches who woke up alone. In fact, this had never happened to him before.

Ever.

He wrinkled his nose with displeasure and decided that he’d have to make her come twice to keep her in bed until he was ready to get up. That was the only solution. At least until they no longer had to share a bed.

Dred thought of his cock again. That seemed to be all that he could think about lately. Middy’s fault, of course. He supposed it would be the gentlemanly thing to do if he checked on it. Just to make sure it didn’t have anything else to do today. Or perhaps Middy had been correct in her as-sumption that he was barking mad.

He lifted the blanket, but his eyes were closed. Dred didn’t know if he could take it if his long-time carousing companion really did say something to him in the here and now.

It was standing tall and proud, jutting even. He eyed it carefully. Then he poked it. Finally, he grasped it firmly and still found it had no input of any kind.

That was more like it!

He gave it a few strokes for good measure and found it to be the same pleasant sensation as always. Now that he’d started, he might as well finish. Dred was sure after the previous night’s activity that Middy wouldn’t be up for another round of polish the wand.

Dred gave over to the tried and true fantasy that he often fell into when he was looking for a quick one-off with himself. His cock went limper than an overcooked green bean. When he peeked at it under the sheet, it looked just as sad.

This was unacceptable.

And yet, before he tried anything else, he knew what was wrong with him. Still, he tried imagining his weekend on the yacht with the Pearcy twins. Merlin, but were they ever hot little witches. They’d done things that . . .

Nothing.

Perhaps he just wasn’t remembering correctly. The one had sat on his face while the other had—if it was possible, the skulking flesh shrank farther.

He went through the seven stages of grief there in the span of about ten minutes. First, he couldn’t believe it. No, a more apt description would be that he refused to believe it. It just couldn’t be true. That had been a dream. His penis didn’t have any choice in the matter. It went where he told it to. It was the bitch, not him. NO!

A vague voice in the back of his head told him that he’d already reached the anger stage, but he’d never been very good at punishing himself, so that one passed quickly.

He thought about Middy and the thing sprang to life like a fork shot from a toaster. Okay, fine. Middy was hot. That wasn’t really a compromise. He thought about her
with
the Pearcy twins.

It was like letting the air out of a balloon.

Then he felt guilty that he’d had such crass thoughts about her. One wasn’t supposed to objectify someone one liked. Right? Dred didn’t know. He’d never really liked a witch as a person before. Sure, he’d liked Karla well enough, but . . . He really hadn’t. She had just been filler, like frosting in those tea cakes he liked so much.

Damn it, but Dred still hated these epiphany moments.

They were balls. All of them.

What the fuck was he going to do? It wasn’t right lusting after just one witch. It wasn’t how things were done in the world of Dred. He released his rebellious cock and if he’d been a witch, he might have shoved both of those chocolates that had been on the nightstand right into his mouth.

He might anyway.

Barista had been thoughtful of her guests’ comfort and provided each one with a small box of Godiva chocolates on each nightstand. Dred’s were all in his mouth. As the chocolate divinity, not to be confused with the old spinster witch candy, melted across his tongue he was momentarily soothed. There was one answer to this conundrum.

That answer being to knock the backside out of her, as Merlin had seemed so pleased to put it. He’d drill her like an oil field until she ran dry. He’d been looking at the situation all wrong. It wasn’t less he needed, but more. Lots more. Then perhaps, he could get on with the business of being Dred Shadowins, cavalier and contented playboy. He liked that much better than this new girl creature she’d turned him into. His cock didn’t work because he had sand in his vagina. That was the only possible explanation. The sooner he got rid of that, the sooner all of this would go away.

But he was beginning to wonder why everything about this mission had to have something to do with his cock.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Harpy Breakfast Tea

“Why me?” Ginger Butterbean whined.

Midnight Cherrywood had come to the quick and painful realization that she would much rather be in her warm bed next to Dred than sitting there, at butt-thirty in the morning listening to Ginger Butterbean waxing poetic about her sad state of affairs. Or more correctly, her husband’s state of many affairs.

Her voice was like that of a songbird that’d been sucking on helium. It wasn’t a sound that she found compatible with breathing. Middy sipped her tea and waited patiently to die.

She wasn’t sure what she could learn from this inanity, but sat dutifully through the thing. The lace edge of her napkin had become fascinating. She was afraid that if she looked any of these women in the face, they’d speak to her directly.

“Well, I’m still concerned about that empty cell in Chaldonean Hall,” Aradia Shadowins said, changing the subject from poor, victimized Ginger.

Finally, something interesting!

Ginger gasped. “Aradia! Can’t you see I’m still upset and I need the support of my friends?”

Aradia looked as if she was hard put not to roll her eyes like bowling balls. “Well, I suppose I should thank you. Some good has come from your tragedy.”

“Oh, and what is that?” Ginger asked unhappily.

“My son fell in love,” Aradia said and turned her attention, along with that of the rest of the flock, to Middy.

They all looked as if they expected her to say something.

“It’s true. If you hadn’t cut off Gavin’s donation”—she almost tripped over the chancellor’s first name—“then I never would have had to go see Dred.”

“Well, I for one am glad that you did. Although shame on him for not bringing you home to meet me. Our first meeting shouldn’t have been at a witches’ tea at my sister’s house party. I should have liked to fuss over you in private first.” Aradia smiled warmly.

Middy had thought for sure Aradia would have hated her. Would have seen her as some gold-digging schemer because Middy didn’t run in the same social circles they did.

Her family was comfortable, but they didn’t have any of the money or prestige that the Shadowins did. And everything had happened so fast. Although, she wondered if it was telling that Barista hadn’t come to the tea. She’d pleaded a headache. It made Middy wonder if what Tally said about her had been true.

Middy had called Tally right after the library incident to rhapsodize about Dred and ask her friend why she hadn’t told her she was coming to the party, but all Tally had said was that she didn’t have time to talk, but to watch out for Barista Snow. She was still chewing on that when Ginger Butterbean decided to add her two cents.

“Yes, well, the sun shines on a closet gnome’s ass some days,” Ginger said with a smile.

“Ginger!” Aradia admonished.

The old Middy would have wilted like a sick flower, but this was the new Middy and she knew she had the social support of Aradia Shadowins. So, she could damn well say whatever she liked. Not that it would stop her if she didn’t. No, she was never going to let anyone treat her like that again.

“So true, Ginger. So true.” She smiled at her with a big flash of teeth. “And since I have you here, where should I put you on my seating chart for the reception?”

“Whatever do you mean, dear?” Ginger practically growled.

“Well, Chancellor Butterbean is bringing someone. So, you won’t be seated at the chancellor’s table. I mean, I wouldn’t think that you’d want to sit next to Aloe Hugginfroth, but . . .” Middy shrugged as if it made no never mind to her either way.

Ginger turned a distinct shade that seemed to match her name. “How could you allow that? I see Aradia must take you under her wing, because you don’t know how things are done.”

“Me? Dred’s uncle is a chancellor. So, they are all invited and they may bring whomever they wish. Just as you may,” Middy said with that same plastic smile burning her face.

“How’s your mother, Midnight? Is she thrilled you’ve captured the most eligible bachelor of the warlockian world?” Lila Applelever asked kindly to change the topic of conversation.

“She’s well. I haven’t actually had him over for the formal meet-and-greet yet. You know Dred’s been so busy and this is truly all so sudden.”

“Your brothers haven’t . . .” Lila was shaking her head as she gasped.

“No, but they’ll be on their best behavior. I promise you,” Middy said with grim finality.

Lila blushed. “I was kind of hoping for some bad behavior.”

Oh. My. God. Lila Applelever was her mother’s age and lusting after . . . The bile bubbled in her throat like an angry volcano. She kept looking around the table, trying to decide where she was going to toss cookies if she couldn’t hold down the bile.

She’d like to do it into Ginger Butterbean’s tea for being such a self-righteous snot.

“Oh, don’t you know it? Raven was our pool warlock one summer and . . .” Ginger shrugged.

“I had
all
three of them working on my pool,” Aradia said, smirking.

Middy’s head snapped around like it had been dangling off the end of a rubber band to gape at Aradia.

“Sorry, Midnight.” She was still smirking. “But those brothers of yours are Cougar Bait.”

Cougar Bait?
Midnight was sure she’d just been struck dead and was lunching in the innermost circle of Hell.

“Do you think that maybe we could have them for entertainment at your wedding instead of a band?” Lila chewed her lip thoughtfully.

Middy took a steadying breath. “No, I don’t think my mother would much care for that type of entertainment. Aradia, would you want Dred—” She cut herself off. She knew better.

“Honey, all of my friends have those issues of
Weekly
Warlock
. He gets his looks from me, anyway, so I’m flattered.”

That smirk on her face was the same one that Dred wore daily. They were so much alike it was frightening. Middy was terribly afraid the next time she and Dred were intimate, she’d see Aradia’s face.

Not that Aradia wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous; she was, but she was his mom! Aradia could obviously read the distress on her face and knew what she was thinking because she laughed even harder.

“Now that we’re all having a good time,” Ginger interrupted. “I trust that you’re going to fix that little seating snafu?”

“Certainly not. It’s her wedding. She can do as she likes. You know, Ginger, you don’t have to come,” Aradia offered.

Ginger narrowed her eyes at both of them and shoved her teacup up to her mouth, presumably before anything else could escape that would put her on the outs with Aradia.

Middy decided that having tea with these witches was like navigating a minefield, only she wasn’t granted the mercy of a quick death before something exploded. She needed to get back to the discussion about Chaldonean Hall.

“So, what were you saying, Aradia?”

The elegant woman turned, her delicate fingers posed just so as she raised her teacup to her red lips. “About Cougar Bait?”

Middy didn’t even try to fight the smirk that curled her lip. “Not quite. About Chaldonean Hall?”

“Oh, well, there’s an occupant missing from one of the paintings. First time in a thousand years that anyone has ever escaped. He’s been free for a good forty years. I think it’s unlikely that we’ll ever catch him.”