The Accidental Familiar (Accidentally Paranormal Series Book 14) (6 page)

“At Poppy’s new gig,” Calamity offered, circling the group as they each began to rise to their feet.

“Already?” Poppy squeaked, looking around to assess her surroundings. They’d landed in front of what looked like an abandoned warehouse on an all but deserted street, the tall gray and red brick structure with window after tall, dirty window looming upward in the cold night. The very air of the building was gloomy and dark, making her shiver. “So they just dump you here in a pile of trash? No directions? No getting-to-know-your-warlock pre-introductions? Just tag, you’re it—go be a familiar, Grasshopper?”

Nina cracked her knuckles, staring down at Calamity, the backdrop of the dark night making her pale skin almost glow. “So are we done here?”

Alarm skittered along Poppy’s spine, making her blood go cold. They were just going to leave her? Forever? What happened to all those stories about friends for life and ride or die?

She had no one. It wasn’t like she could call her mother and say, “Hey, Ma. I need your advice. Due to a crazy-as-fuck accident, I’m now a familiar. I have magic, Ma! But I also have a man I’m supposed to partner up with. A man I guide through life forever. Can you believe I actually had to sign a paper that said I’d do this forever? So…got any advice?”

Her mother would pass out in her corned beef and cabbage. These women and this talking cat were all she had, and she wasn’t letting them go so easily.

“Done?” she squawked. “Wait. You’re all just going to leave me here as though I were some unwanted newborn you’re dropping off on the steps of a church?”

Nina snorted, jamming her hands into her hoodie. “Dramatic analogy, but yeah, if you wanna look at it like that. We got ya to the realm, didn’t we? You got your assignment. You’re not in a state of total fucked-up. There were no tears. No denial. You seem okay with your new lot in life, which, I gotta say, I admire because shit doesn’t usually go down like this. You’re a badder bitch than most. So what the fuck do you need us for?”

Poppy looked up at Nina, an overwhelming sense of fear washing over her in a swell of desperation. She gripped the vampire’s slender hand, pulling her cool digits to her chest as she blinked away those tears Nina talked about. “I don’t know!” she yelped while the unfamiliar emotion clawed at her from the inside out, but as she caught the alarmed gazes in the other women’s eyes, she quieted her tone. “I don’t know. I just do. I really just do…”

And that was true. She knew it.

But why did she know?

Surprisingly, Nina didn’t pull away. Instead, she gripped Poppy’s fingers tighter, steadying her rising panic. Nina’s next words didn’t betray her gruff demeanor, but she somehow knew the woman wouldn’t abandon her. “Fine, Chicken-shit. We’ll stay.”

“Of course we will,” Marty reassured, rubbing Poppy’s arm with her hand. “We never abandon ship no matter how steady the captain seems. Not until we’re sure you’re safe and sound.”

Wanda nodded her consent, too, planting her hands on her hips. “Ditto. So where are we, Calamity, and how do we help make this transition for Poppy smoother?”

With the swish of her tail and a wisp of confetti-like sparkle, a stack of papers the size of
War and Peace
appeared before crashing onto the pile of garbage with a puff of the stench of rotten sardines and stale cigarette butts.

Calamity hopped on top of it and began to pace. “Finally. Now we can really get down to business.”

“What is that?” Poppy asked, sure she’d regret it the moment the words left her big mouth.

“It’s your warlock’s life story—all neatly logged by time and date with every single life event, important or otherwise, grades, achievements, involvements, relationships, etcetera, all documented for your reading pleasure.”

Scratching her forehead, she grated a sigh. “I can’t even focus long enough to read a pamphlet on birth control, how am I supposed to read all of that?”

“In order to learn all of your warlock’s quirks, to really know what makes him tick, you need to do your research. So we’ve made things easy for you and consolidated everything into this handy tome. It’s less intimidating than it looks.”

Poppy eyed her skeptically, narrowing her gaze. “So you’re telling me you read a stack of papers like this on Nina before you became her familiar?”

“Don’t be a moron, newb. This is the half-breed we’re talking about. It was like a paragraph long. You want the CliffsNotes? Never mind. I’ll give them to you anyway. It read like this: Subject, Nina Statleon. Has big mouth. Thrives on threats and confrontation. Has really big mouth. The end.”

“Fuck you, Calamity,” Nina crowed, making Poppy snort a giggle.

“What the hell are you all doing out here?” a low, raspy voice with just the slightest hint of a Spanish accent asked.

All of the women whipped around in sync, their eyes peering into the darkness. Startled by the voice, Poppy fell into Wanda, who patted her on the back and righted her, easing the trembling of her knees.

“More to the point, who the fuck are
you
and why are you sticking your nose in our business?” Nina asked, approaching the stranger as though she were approaching enemy lines.

The man’s features were hidden in the shadows of the dull streetlamp, but his size was clear. Tall and well-muscled, every stitch of clothing he wore clung to his bulk like a second skin, enhancing his thick thighs and ripped arms.

The moment Nina’s stance became menacing was the moment he held up his hand and, without a word, froze her right in place. The wind that had whistled like white noise in the background suddenly stopped, as did the leaves rushing against the sidewalk in a crinkle of rustling fall goodness.

No one appeared all that surprised that Nina was instantly immobilized. So she tried to roll with her peers and behave as though a simple hand gesture freezing someone in their tracks was no big deal, but on the inside, Poppy McGuillicuddy was terrified speechless.

She’d considered lots of things while they’d waited in line at Familiar Central. Like, spells and voodoo and all manner of
Bewitched
. She’d tried to recall all the shows and books she’d ever seen or read dealing with witches and magic, but nothing quite compared to actually seeing it happen.

“I said,
who
are you?” the stranger demanded, moving around Nina’s unmoving form and closer to the group, his body language rigid and tense.

“Oh, knock it the hell off with the fancy freezing spells, ya big galoot! Stop showing off and unfreeze the pain in my ass before I turn you into the prize cow at the 4-H fair,” Calamity ordered, rising on her hind legs.

The man eyed them all, his icy stare enough to make Poppy visibly cringe, but Wanda kept her hands firmly planted on her shoulders in support and squeezed. “We’re here. We won’t let him hurt you,” she whispered, and somehow, that made everything okay—even with a freezing spell.

“Do I know you?” he asked as he moved forward, eating up the sidewalk with long, purposeful strides.

As his features become more defined, her eyes went wider. The man responsible for freezing poor Nina in place was an absolute hottie. Like, brick shithouse hot, hot, hot.

The dark turtleneck and thick down vest he wore accented his even darker features. Eyes the color of a moonless night, evenly spaced and fringed heavily with thick dark lashes, assessed them all. Prominent cheekbones with a razor’s edge and a hard, square jaw enhanced his full-ish lips and bracketed his long straight nose.

His skin was smooth and medium-toned with nary a blemish, putting his age at roughly thirty-five, if Poppy were to guess.

When he asked again, “Do I know you?” the hard edge to his tone said he’d known trouble before, and he was prepared to handle any that crossed his path.

“Ish,” Calamity responded with a calm Poppy definitely wasn’t feeling as she dropped back to her haunches and padded toward him on soft kitty feet. “Are you who I think you are?”

“
Who
do you think I am and why are you rooting around in my garbage?” he asked, locking gazes with Poppy.

His glare made her stand taller, even though she was only five feet and one-half inch, if you didn’t count her six-inch platforms. Why he’d chosen her out of the pack of women to shoot his hateful stares at took her by surprise. But she squared her shoulders anyway and glared right back.

She probably looked like an idiot doing it in her torn Paul Stanley leggings, afro wig, and big clunky platform boots, but whatever. Nobody intimidated Poppy McGuillicuddy. She might be tiny, but she was damn well mighty.

Calamity sniffed the air around this delicious, if not possibly dangerous man and made a clucking noise in the back of her throat. “Yep. I think he’s our guy, girls.”

“Ooo, lucky Poppy!” Marty chirped, patting her on the back in approval. “Nice coup, kiddo.”

Planting his hands on lean hips encased in tighter-than-tight jeans, his eyebrow rose. Just one, but it was a perfectly groomed, raven-tipped one. “Your guy?”

“Oh, stop playing coy with us, Mr. Smexy,” Calamity cooed, winding her tail around his ankle and purring a thick, sultry sound in the back of her throat. “You know why we’re here.”

His lips thinned when he crossed his arms over his burly chest. “Explain yourself.”

Calamity reached upward with her front paws, planting them on his knees and stretching as she tilted her head to look up at him. “I’m here to hand-deliver your new familiar, Sexy Pants. Make sure when the powers that be send out that survey, you remember to mention how timely I was. It counts for points toward a new travel tote. If you give me a five-star rating, it’ll push me right over the top, and that tote’ll be mine in no time flat.”

“Ahh,” he muttered, driving a wide hand through his thick, dark hair with a raspy sigh. “I should have known. You’re from Familiar Central.”

“Yep,” Calamity declared, dropping down and dancing about on all four of her dainty paws. “So show us where to go so we can get settled and then we’ll all sit down and have a nice little getting-to-know-you session. Also, if you have some tuna handy, I’d appreciate the shit out of a bowl—packed in water only, please. This has been one of the longest nights of my fekkin’ life. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to induct a familiar? Especially a newb. Jesus and a popsicle. It’s more paperwork than leasing a damn car.”

Marty scooped up Calamity and tucked her under her arm, sticking her other hand out to the stranger. “Introductions are in order. I’m Marty Flaherty. The bully you froze on the spot—thank you for that, by the way—is Nina Statleon. Behind me is Wanda Jefferson, and the woman clinging to Wanda as though she were the last pint of Häagen-Dazs on earth is Poppy McGuillicuddy, your new familiar.”

He lifted his square chin with a dimple in it and nodded with a curt bob of his dark head. “I know who she is. Now take her and your friend here and go the hell away. I’ve already told Familiar Central I’m good. So, if you’ll excuse me, ladies, have a good night.”

And with that, he was gone.

As in, took his gorgeous self and disappeared into the ether, leaving behind only the scent of ozone and sardines.

Well, that was a fine how-do-ya-do.

P
oppy looked at the women, stunned, her fingers twining together to find her palms cold and clammy. “So was that what we, in my human circle, call the big dis? I think we’d better go back to Familiar Central and get in the line labeled Rejected By A Total Douche Witch, because if there’s one thing he doesn’t want, I’d say a familiar is on the top of the list.”

Calamity rasped a sigh, moving in and out of Nina’s still unmoving form. “Sometimes they’re reluctant. Case in point, my half-breed. She hated my guts at first.”

“And this thing you guys are in the throes of right now is called what? Mad-like? Because I’m afraid to know what hated your guts meant,” Poppy wondered out loud, shifting from foot to foot.

“We’re in the throes of making shit work because we have no choice
but
to make things work. I refer back to my Scottish castle hell as a point of reference. I’d rather be with these loony-toon bitches in all their perfume and mascara than with some old, crusty dude who doesn’t wear any underwear beneath his musty robes.”

Sure, that scenario sounded crappy, but how much crappier could it be than being hated by a hot guy with a shitty attitude—for life?

“But did the sheep like you?”

“Well, yeah. We got along pretty well. They have amazingly soft fur, too. Nothing like hunkering down with them on a cold winter’s night.”

“I think I’ll take getting along with a herd of sheep who at least let me snuggle with them as opposed to hating my guts.” Pausing, she looked at the women and asked, “Everybody who thinks Poppy should get a new witch, raise your hand.” She lifted hers high above her head.

“No! Did you hear me when I told you what happens when you complain?” Calamity asked, the warning tone in her voice clear.

Poppy nodded, backing away from the group. “Yep. You said I go to the Bad Place. I don’t know what the Bad Place is like, or even what they do in the Bad Place, but I’m willing to bet there’s a sense of solidarity in the Bad Place because we’d all be rejects together as a big group. I’m willing to take the risk. I’m not willing to have some guy behave like an asshole to me because he doesn’t want a familiar. And I don’t care how hot he is.”

“And he was definitely hot. And that accent? Phew,
mi
corazón,”
Wanda murmured, her hand at her throat, her cheeks flushed, and it wasn’t from the chilly air.

“Yeah,” Marty agreed, fanning herself. “Sooo hot.”

Poppy nodded as she backed even farther away, stepping off the curb. “Now that Crankypants’s objectification is out of the way, I don’t care if he’s Benedict Cumberbatch and Idris Elba’s love child. I’m out. Let’s go cement my seat in the Bad Place.”

“Stop!” Calamity yowled. “Don’t you move, Poppy McGuillicuddy!”

Poppy’s feet instantly rooted to the spot. When she tried to lift her platform boots, it was in vain. “Calamity, knock it off with the hocus-pocus and let me go!” She bent at the waist, reaching forward to attempt to lift her feet, only to watch her shadow on the pavement resemble something out of the
Matrix
.