The cacophony of angry voices in my waiting room told me two things. First, the townspeople had heard about our new visitors. Second, they were pissed.
“Madam Mayor!”
“Evie!”
“Evelyn Castor, you must get rid of those Shifters!”
“There you are! Okay, folks, please, you know the drill. Fill out a form, and I will bring your grievances to the mayor personally,” Stanley, my knight in shining purple silk Armani, opened the door to my office and ushered me inside.
“It’s about time,” he whispered, motioning to the crowd to set their forms in the neat little metal inbox on the hutch outside my office.
“Sorry, I stopped by the cemetery to investigate Miss Spritely’s claims,” I replied.
“Oh!” He paused.
“Well? What did you find? Besides a dinner date with tall sexy Wolf? And nice hair by the way. Did Donny stop by?”
How the heck did he hear about that already? I dropped my purse on the desk and sat down in my comfy upholstered chair.
“How did you know about Jaxson?”
“Ooooh, is that his name? Evie! Do tell,” Stanley said, wiggling his eyebrows and perching on the corner of my desk.
“There is nothing to tell yet,” I replied with a wink.
My stomach growled, and I began searching my snack drawer for any kind of sustenance. Stanley crossed his arms disapprovingly as I bypassed the bags of raw almonds, granola, and other healthy options he’d tossed in with my chocolate covered goodness.
“Here, try this,” he growled and handed me a dark chocolate covered granola bar.
I looked at it dubiously, but he pointed to the picture I had of my mother and Aunt Edna on my desk. Shit. Okay, fine. At least it had chocolate. I could so work with that.
“Can I just say it is about time,” my assistant continued.
“I mean after Chief Dick---” Stanley began to laugh, and I joined him.
Trying not to choke on the somewhat dry, but definitely tasty, piece of granola, I might have snorted as I chuckled. ‘Kay, the thing was, I kinda sorta might have let it slip that Richard preferred to be called Chief Dick in the sack.
Not that he deserved the title. His firehose was unfortunately way too short for my, um, inferno. I sincerely doubted Jaxson would have that problem. The idea gave me goosebumps.
“Anyway, after he who should never ever be named, you deserve to have some fun. And Shifters can definitely be fun!” Stanley wagged his perfectly sculpted eyebrows and lifted his hands with pointer fingers high until they were about thirteen inches apart.
Oh my. That would definitely qualify as fun.
Choke. Gasp.
“Why the fuck is this so dry?” I asked, tearing as I tried to swallow the hunk of granola and chugged some of Stanley’s stupid, expensive imported Japanese spring water.
He was not at all pleased, but he allowed it. Good thing too. That granola damn near tore a hole in my throat.
“Thanks Stanley, I mean, I know it isn’t permanent or anything, but I am really attracted to this guy.”
“Look Evie, you might have the sight, but you can’t read your own future accurately. Worrying will only give you wrinkles, so don’t. Um, by the way, you had a phone call.”
“From whom?”
Eyebrow raised, I turned to my admin assistant. Stanley fielded all of my messages. If he was bringing one to my attention, it was from someone big.
Please do not be my parents.
I could not deal with anymore honeymoon stories. It was seriously bad for my overactive gag reflex. Apparently, all witches had them. And if my dad told me anymore stories or shared another anecdote of him seducing my mom, I was seriously going to hurl.
Yuck. Gross. Barf.
“Now, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Stanley replied. “But I thought you would want to hear it from me. She called to check on things today. Mentioned some stuff. Oh, and it seems our fabulous town trio has been lax about selecting familiars! She is sending three over immediately. They’ve read your files. Oh, and she mentioned a few Shifters might have strayed into our area with her full approval.”
I waited, my trepidation growing. She. Stanley kept saying she. Like, just who was this she? I was about to ask, but my assistant was not done yapping yet.
“She called about eight seconds before Dick Daniels came barging in here raving about a Shifter stranger menace threatening our town.”
“Wait, he said what? Ugh, screw Dick,” I retorted. “But you keep saying she, Stanley. And there is only one she,” I began warily.
OMG. Did he mean? He couldn’t mean her! Why didn’t he call me? FFS!
“Yep,” he smiled that evil grin of his, and I spit the next sip of water I’d taken all over his Armani. Sorry, not sorry.
“Evie!” the warlock stomped his foot and magicked the water stain away.
“So you do mean she as in the she? OMG! Zelda? The next Baba Yaga called me?”
“Yes, oh spitting wonder, Zelda called,” Stanley snarked, rubbing at his perfectly dry clothes.
I yelled, stood up, sat back down, and nearly crapped my pants. One of the most powerful witches of our age, the Shifter Whisperer, or Shifter Wanker as she preferred to be called, had called me! Why?
“Number. Number!” I snapped my fingers.
Stanley moved slowly across the room. He was still pissed off. But I snapped again, and his neon green notepad flew to my hands. He’d scribbled her number and I could barely make it out.
“You and your freaking calligraphy,” I growled.
“That’s a five,” he replied calmly. “And I am sorry you don’t care for art, Evelyn. You really should try to acquire some culture.”
He sniffed. Ugh. I hated when he did that.
“Fine, I am sorry. I will try to be more appreciative---”
I stopped groveling to my assistant when she picked up. My heart thudded, and I almost peed my pants.
“Hello! You have reached the mighty Shifter Wanker! Hello? Is this thing on? Hurry up, sister, I ain’t got all day,” Zelda snapped, and I damn near dropped the phone.
Was I a huge fan of one of the most powerful witches of all time? Yes. Yes, I was. And was I currently fangirling like a bobbysoxer at an Elvis Presley concert? The answer was, once again, a big fat yes.
“Zelda?!” I squeaked her name.
“Speaking, hang on a sec. Will you three ball licking idiots get the heck out of my office! Scram! I am on the phone,” she muttered, then threatened. “Okay, I am back. So, What can I do you for?”
“Um, this is Evie Castor of Castor’s Corner, returning your call,” I said as quickly as possible so I wouldn’t fuck it up.
Zelda was a total badass of a witch. The next Baba Yaga. And did I mention her wardrobe totally rocked? She had the power to heal Shifters, among other things, and I was completely flabbergasted as to why she was calling. I sent all my monthly magic reviews to Baba Yaga on time, like clockwork. And I had no interactions with Shifters till yesterday. So, what was up?
“Castor’s what now? Wait another sec, will you Efraim?”
“That’s Evie,” I replied.
“Sure it is. One sec,” Zelda, almighty Shifter Wanker, replied.
She must have lowered the phone to her neck, or something, cause what I heard next was some muffled whispering, head scratching, maybe an ass slap? And that was definitely a smooch.
I bit my lip, ignoring Stanley, who was pacing in his totally back to normal and still gorgeous suit, gesturing for me to tell him what was going on. Would if I could. But what the fuck did I know about what was going on? I was on hold.
“Okay, I am back now!” Zelda yelled into the phone, startling me.
I squeaked and almost dropped the damn thing again. But I hung on. Good old Castor reflexes kicking in.
“It has come to my attention through the offices of the great Baba Yomama that the witch trifecta of Castor’s Corner has been without familiars for some time now.”
“Uh, yeah. The last witch trifecta in Castor’s Corner lost their familiars after an unfortunate incident involving a group of strangers and a fire that took half of Main Street,” I replied.
I knew the rules. All witches were supposed to have familiars, but Castor’s Corner was the exception. Or so I’d thought.
“Yeah, well, that ain’t gonna fly anymore,” Zelda informed me. “Three familiars are on their way to your little town of Cassius Clay, New Jersey, or is that Joizy? Don’t you guys say Joizy over there?”
“No one here says Joizy,” I replied politely, even though I wanted to roll my eyes.
Some stereotypes just never went away, and while I will accept that New Jersey natives drop the r at the end of words like water and drawer, turning them into watah and drawah, we never ever say Joizy.
“Whatevah,” she said, and I grinned.
Zelda had nailed the accent without trying. But that was what made her so awesome. I got chills just talking to her.
I know, I know. And you’re right. I am a total geek.
“Just be aware that the familiars are a little out of the ordinary. They have read and chosen their witches based on your files.”
“Our files?’
“Yep. Baba Yodeeznuts has files on everyone. Let’s see, yep, yours is Evelyn Castor. The next two are Maribella Strega, and Donatella Andrews. Each one of you will have a familiar of your own.”
“Is it a bad time to mention a cat allergy?” I asked. Not for a friend.
“No worries, these guys are not felines. Anywho, they will arrive within the next twenty-four hours, and I expect the three of you to properly welcome them, capisce?”
Of course, her pronunciation was deplorable. Came out more like ca-pissy, but I did not dare correct her.
“Uh, yep. Got it.”
“Next on my list for Candida Caverns is, oh yeah, crap, I see you guys have some bad juju going on. You okay to nip that in the bud?”
“Candida? Did you just call our town yeast infection caverns?”
“What was that?” she asked, clearly distracted.
“Nothing. Um, Bad juju? Oh! You mean the cemetery sightings. Yes, I am on it.”
“Great,” she said, humming a little off key.
“Uh, anything else?” I inquired.
The singing was getting to me, but I didn’t want to pressure her or anything. There were somethings you just didn’t do and pissing off the next Baba Yaga was one of them.
“Yes, one more thing for Caboodle Circle.”
“Castor’s Corner,” I mumbled.
“That’s what I said. Oh yeah, my significant other, the Shifter king, also known as Mac, the hot dad body rocking sex machine I am mated to, just informed me that you have three Shifters in town at the moment,” Zelda began.
“Yes. They arrived yesterday.”
“Cool. Well, they were supposed to be on their way to Maccon City but got sidetracked. I understand their car is being fixed and they would like to stay a few days in Cameron’s Clover. Is that going to be a problem?”
“No, of course not. Castor’s Corner is happy to have them,” I replied.
I cringed at the lie. Of course, it was going to be a problem. And for several reasons.
One, this was Cameron’s Clover, fuck, I meant Castor’s Corner. Anyway, outsiders wreaked havoc with the fragile balance that allowed us supes to exist in harmony undetected by the human world.
Two, I didn’t know how I was going to get through the evening without jumping the sexy werewolf who called himself Jaxson.
Three, I was pretty sure that once I jumped him. I would not want to let him go. I got a little bit demanding with my lovers. And worse, I had a feeling this guy was more than one-night stand material. If the stories of Zelda and Mac were anything to go by, the fact that Jaxson smelled like some of my favorite things meant he was mine.
And four, I had no idea how to find, never mind counter, the bad juju endangering my town.
“Alrighty then, toodles!” Zelda yelled and hung up the phone with a click.
I sat there like an idiot with the receiver to my ear for another ten seconds, trying to make sense of that call. Nope. I was pretty sure a trained psychiatrist could not comprehend half of what the almighty Shifter Wanker had just blabbed about. How the Goddess was I supposed to?
“Well?” Stanley demanded, but before I could answer him, someone knocked on the door.
“I got it,” he grumbled, and stalked over to open it.
I should’ve expected what was behind the ominous portal, but for some reason, I was slow to act. Call it a brain fart or what have you. The minute Stanley gasped, I knew I was in for it.
“You Evie?” The first creature asked my assistant.
The voice was deep and gravelly with a distinct accent. Sort of like someone from a Peter Bebjak film. Don’t judge me, I might be a mayor of small supernatural town in New Jersey, but Castor’s Corner had an awesome movie theatre that had a foreign film feature every Friday for the last twenty years.
Babjek was new on the scene, but his beautifully crafted films were already a favorite. Anyway, I heard skittering, but saw nothing over the mountain of mail and my large computer screen. I had to stand up, but my feet did not want to cooperate.
“I stutter?” it asked.
Stanley shook his head, which was facing down, and pointed at me. Odd, since my assistant was rarely rendered speechless.
“Evelyn Castor?”
The, well, I didn’t know what he was, but whatever he was, he spoke with a thick accent. He was polite enough, that was for sure. I stood up and looked down, swallowing my gasp. The creature had read my name off a manila envelope that he carried in his clawed hand. Two others were with him.
All three were about two and a half feet tall. They stood upright, like humans, but that was where the similarities ended. The three of them were unlike anything I had ever seen. They had shaggy fur in varying shades of black, gray, and white, enormous eyes, and horns protruding from their heads. Oh, and tails, they had long tails that dragged behind them.
“Yep. That’s me. Call me Evie. You guys the familiars?” I asked.
When they nodded, I held up my finger for them to wait a second. I grabbed my cell and sent a text message to Maribella and Donny.
Get your asses here now.
“Where are the other trifecta witches?” another one asked in the same accented voice.
Eastern European was my guess. Poland? Slovakia? I could not be certain.
“They are on their way,” I replied. “Do you have names?”
“Of course,” the third one scoffed.
“I am Ivan,” the one in the middle who’d read my name said to me. “This is Gryn, and this Petyr. We are the Domovyk.”
“The who?”
“Domovyk. We were once minor household gods,” Gryn replied grumpily. “But there is no place for us in this world of microwaves and peanut butter.”
“I like this peanut butter,” the other muttered.
“Now we are here to serve you witches,” Ivan continued, ignoring the interruption.
“Enough Gryn. We have made the pact with the Baba Yaga and the Shifter Wanker. Now, we must do our duties to protect the witch trifecta against all outside forces.”
“Um, sounds good. So, tea?” I asked.
I did not want to interrupt the three Domovahoohoos, or whatever they were, but the more heated their discussion became, the more I felt my magic respond. Even now, flames were dancing at my fingertips in response.
Ivan, the one with my file, took note and growled at the other two, who immediately shut their mouths.
“Enough! We wait,” he commanded.
The three of them dropped to the floor, sitting crisscross applesauce. Like they were waiting for story time.
Hell no.
I was not reading these furry fuckers a damn thing. Stanley’s mouth was still hanging open, but my assistant was quick on his feet.
“I’ll go get that tea,” Stanley muttered, giving the trio of little hobgoblins a wide berth.
The ass scratcher left me alone with them, too. The Domywhatevers didn’t try to talk to me. Which was okay. But the freaky, guttural clicks and gravelly sounds they made were scary as fuck.
A few moments later, Maribella, still in her apron and generously dusted with flour, came bursting through the door. Donatella followed, trudging Marylou Fox, whose hair she was dying along with her.
“Where’s the fire? And what in the hell are those things?” Donny screeched.
“What is going on?” Maribella asked, gasping for breath.
“Hello Marylou,” I nodded to the vixen Shifter, ignoring my two idiotic besties.
“Mayor,” she replied, trying not to look wide eyed at the three Domovyks.
Finally, I remembered the word for the little weirdos. They were still sitting crisscross applesauce on my office floor, passing around the tea Stanley had just provided. I was trying to ignore the fact they were eating the spoons and downing the contents of the sugar and honey bowls. Talk about a sweet tooth.
“So, what? You couldn’t call an exterminator?” Donny asked. “I am in the middle of highlighting Mrs. Fox’s hair, Evie.”
“And you couldn’t tell her to wait?” I countered.
“No! I could not just leave her. Foil,” she said the last bit to Marylou, who was holding a tray with cut squares of foil among other bits and pieces of hair dying thingies.
Best I ignore it, I supposed, and decided to move on with the introductions.
“Ladies, meet our familiars,” I announced.
The three Domovyks stood up. Ivan moved until he was in front of me. Petyr stood in front of Maribella. And lastly, Gryn walked right up to Donatella.
“This is them? Good. Now, we make our vow to you,” Ivan said.
The three hairy little hobgoblins all bowed and began to chant simultaneously in some language I had never heard. Green sparks slithered from their fingertips as they extended their hands. As if we already knew what to do next, the three of us raised our right hands at the same time, pointer fingers out to meet their claws. Like a salute to ET or some such shit.
The Domovyks’ sparks touched our fingertips. To me, Ivan’s magic felt warm and good. Like he was just sensing who and what I was, weighing my power and gifting me a connection to his. The entire thing was awesome. And I knew then they were not malevolent in any way.
“Any questions?” Ivan asked when they’d finished.
“Uh. No,” I said, and Maribella and Donny replied the same.
“Good. Then we leave.”
“Wait! I thought you were our familiars now?”
“Yes. We are. But you do not need us now. So, we leave. We will be back, but only when you need us, Evie Castor. Oh, do not forget to leave us plates from your meals. Supper at night, breakfast, etcetera. It is important you do not go to sleep before you do this. Part of this deal is you feed us,” Ivan said with a grunt.
I looked at Donny and Bella. They nodded and shrugged respectively.
“Sure,” I replied.
“It’s good,” Ivan said and nodded.
Then, the three Domovyks departed with a loud popping sound and a flash of green light that blinded me for a second. After a few minutes, Maribella and Donny left, toting Mrs. Fox behind her. We promised to call each other later.
The workday flew by, and I felt as if I’d gotten nowhere. Being mayor truly sucked when all a girl wanted to do was sit on her sofa in yoga pants with a bowl of popcorn laced with chocolate chips and cayenne pepper, a bottle of red wine, binge watching that fantasy show starring Henry Cavill as a smexy as fuck mutant with yellow eyes.
Was that too much to ask?
Apparently, it was. I stretched and stood up at the end of the day, gathering my things. The cemetery mystery had yet to be solved. I now had a strange familiar who’d disappeared after shooting green magic up my sleeve. I still did not have a car, which meant walking was in this fluffy girl’s immediate future. Plus, I had a date with a werewolf who tested every ounce of my self-control. I didn’t think I could handle much more of this clusterfuck of a week.
Thank the Goddess it was Friday.