What's a Witch to Do Part 17

"Oh, stop it. You love it."

Mommy started this tradition with Daddy, who kept it going after she died. Whenever us girls fought or were down in the dumps, she'd turn on the music and make us dance until all our tension or aggravation was gone with the wind. Worked like a charm bag. Some of my best memories are of all four of us cutting loose like we were having seizures. I carried on the silliness with Debbie and now the girls. Family tradition is most important.

I select Kenny Chesney's "Ain't Back Yet." It always makes me want to dance. As the guitar riff begins, I start grooving to the beat, swaying my hips and head, and lip syncing like a mo-ron. But it sure is fun. I take Sophie's wrists, lift up her arms, and start moving them around like a puppeteer until she does it on her own. A second later she's mimicking me, giggling at the stupidity. It's catching.

"I want to dance!" Cora says as she sprints in. She leaps onto the couch and starts bouncing while shaking her arms around like a monkey. I think dance camp this summer for her.

We have an audience. Adam leans against the wall, the widest grin on his face as he watches us crazies. I wiggle my finger at him to come to me. He does, his shoulders bouncing to the music as he grooves toward me. After a second our bodies get in sync, pivoting, gyrating, h.e.l.l even laughing in time to each other at the music. He takes my hands and moves my arms like a bicycle, forcing me to bend back as his body presses toward mine then brings me up again. He breaks away, and I bust a gut as he "raises the roof" while puckering his lips like a fish. d.a.m.n is he adorable. Just as the song ends, he takes my hand again, spins me away, then toward him again. At the last beat, he dips me as if we were in an old movie, our grinning mouths an inch from each other while panting as if we've just ... h.e.l.l's bells.

The song ends, and we just stay like that for a second. I realize his chest is pressed against mine, and the only thing holding me upright is his strong arm around my waist. Our smiles slowly falter as our eyes meet. A large jolt of I-don't-know-what cascades over me, and boy does it feel wonderful like a warm rain. He might feel it too-or it could be that the most romantic song ever, "Somebody" by Reba McEntire starts playing-because I swear there's l.u.s.t in those baby blues. My breath catches. I think I want to kiss him. Okay, I definitely want to kiss him. Among other things. His eyes read mine as I read his, and I suddenly feel naked. Exposed. c.r.a.p.

I look away and press myself up before pus.h.i.+ng him away. "Can't dance to this song," I chuckle nervously. I leap away to shut off the stereo. I give myself a second to compose myself, and plant a smile on my face before turning to face the girls. "Well, I feel better. How about we finish dinner, huh?" I smooth my hair and walk away.

What the h.e.l.l was that?

Operation: Hoochie House Between cleaning up dinner, getting the girls to bed, and preparing for tonight's B&E, there isn't time to obsess over whatever happened in that living room. I all but blink, and it's time for Adam to leave on his date. He pokes his freshly showered head into my office to let me know he's leaving. I don't look up from my scrying but nod. This isn't working. I need something of the demon's in the pendulum to locate it. Stupid idea.

For some reason, when I hear the front door shut downstairs, I relax a little. I avoided eye contact at dinner and made it a point to stay away from him after that. He probably didn't even notice in the living room or at dinner. It was all in my head. Besides, there are more important things to worry about than momentary l.u.s.t. I have to go commit a felony.

As I'm gathering all my charms for the break-in, I call Auntie Sara. I check on the girls, who are still asleep. They won't even know I left. Auntie Sara stands at the invisible barrier clutching onto her cardigan and nervously scanning the street for baddies. I open the barrier, and she walks over to me. "This is a bad idea."

I extend my hand. "Car keys, please?"

She gives them to me. "A very bad idea."

I kiss her cheek. "I'll be an hour. If they wake up, tell them I'll be back soon."

I close the barrier behind myself and run next door to where her Monte Carlo sits in the driveway. Driving it is like steering an ancient tank that coughs exhaust. Low profile I am not. As I drive closer and closer to the south side of town, the rock in my stomach grows. I miss the b.u.t.terflies from before. I got caught last time, and I'll probably get caught this time too. I can never get away with anything. The one time I jaywalked I got a ticket. When I'd fake sick to stay home from school, two days later I'd actually get sick. I'm on the universe's watch list. Step out on line even an inch and be fed to the crocodiles. Cheyenne raises a demon to kill me then gets to make out with Adam. How is that fair?

I cruise past Cheyenne's and notice the lights are still on, and my car is in the driveway. Get going guys. I park a block down where the house is still visible and shut off the engine. A minute later, the happy couple saunters out. If that girl's skirt was any shorter I'd be able to see what half the men in town already have. Adam says something and Cheyenne throws back her head with laughter, touching his chest because she can. I scoff. He opens the car door for her, and she kisses his cheek. He just opened a d.a.m.n door, he didn't rescue your kitten from a tree, you tramp. Keep your paws to yourself. The car starts and pulls out, coming my way. I duck down as it pa.s.ses. Time to go.

I pull out the power triangle amulet from my purse then take off my Mohammedan circle of protection one. I hold up the new amulet, calling the magic before putting it on. When I open my eyes, I hold out my hand but can see right through it. That's a little freaky. I have a hard time opening the car door as I can't seem to get my hand in the right position. Yeah, expert cat burglar here. Can't even open a door.

When it does open, I jump out and rush my b.u.t.t down the street. Instead of using the front door, I go around the back to the sliding gla.s.s door. Adam was supposed to unlock it, and as always he is a man of his word. Now I'll only be arrested for entering. The house is dark, so I pull out my tiny flashlight from my waistband. Even with the flashlight I hit my leg on the end table, beer cans clattering and falling to the ground. Okay, I really suck at this. I take off the amulet, and my body appears. Should make things easier. Let's get this over with. Bedroom first.

I walk down the hall past pictures on the wall. Cheyenne in a bikini at the beach. The unhappy twins about age ten flanking their equally dour parents. Maxine working in the garden. One I took of the twins and Debbie drawing with chalk. If I remember correctly, that day ended with Cheyenne shoving Debbie for using her Barbie comb. Okay, stay off Memory Lane. It just dead ends with the sheriff arresting me for trespa.s.sing.

The bedroom is cleaner than I imagined, with the bed made. Not that I want to touch it, mainly because of the mirror above it. Tacky. I check the dresser first. Nothing but a thousand thongs and enough polyester clothes to outfit the cast of Sat.u.r.day Night Fever. No false bottoms either. Nothing under the bed or mattress. The nightstand gives me pause. Not only do I find pot but also a pink vibrator, furry handcuffs, condoms, and some beads that I a.s.sume I don't want to touch. Grimacing, I shut the drawer. The closet holds no surprises, just clothes and shoes. I press on all the walls for a secret s.p.a.ce but come up empty. Guess she wants to keep her s.e.x and murdering lives separate.

Across the hall is a bedroom converted into an office of sorts. Really there's just a stereo on the end table and a desk filled with ritual items. Jars of herbs, a small cauldron, an athame, and a tiny bookcase filled with books. A few are on black magic, but I don't find the handwritten notebook Meg and Belle told me about. Everything here is within regulations. Some herbs could be combined for black magic spells, but there's no sulfur. She probably used it all last night. Okay, so I have no idea what I expected to find. A bound copy of "How I Intend to Kill Mona" maybe. h.e.l.l, I'd settle for matches from Alejandro's club. Photos- The sound of the deadbolt unlocking down the hall makes my stomach drop to my toes. Of course. I'm going to jail. I click off the flashlight and stand still, afraid even to blink in case she can hear it.

" ... so sorry," Cheyenne says as she steps into the other room.

"Not a problem," Adam says. "I'm just going to use the bathroom before we go again."

I hear his heavy footsteps moving toward me, then the shutting of a door. A second later he appears in the doorway, finding me clutching the flashlight to my chest and tense like a virgin on her wedding night. "What happened?" I mouth.

He steps in and whispers, "She forgot her wallet." On accident, I'm sure. "We're leaving again. Just stay quiet." He rushes out again, and a few seconds later, the toilet flushes. "You find it?" he calls out as he walks down the hall again. "Cheyenne? Where-"

He stops mid-sentence. In my heightened fear state, my hearing is phenomenal. He lets out a surprised moan and then I hear lips smacking against each other in a wet kiss. The b.i.t.c.h pounced. "No, wait, stop," he says a few seconds later. "What about dinner?"

"f.u.c.k dinner. We'll order pizza after," she says huskily. I can hear jingling as she undoes his belt.

"But-"

"Just shut up."

There's another groan, then the sound of bodies falling on the couch. Oh h.e.l.l's bells. There is no way I am going to stand here and listen to them have s.e.x in the next room. I'd rather get arrested. I stick the flashlight back in my pants and re-energize the amulet before tiptoeing down the hall like a ghost. Of course if I stomped through wearing clogs, they wouldn't notice right now. Cheyenne lays on top of Adam making out with him with abandon, as if they'd just discovered the activity. She's even got her s.h.i.+rt off, revealing a leopard print bra. She rubs against him like a cat in heat, hands under his s.h.i.+rt, raking her nails on his chest. His eyes are open, but his hands are busy caressing her naked back. A rage like nothing I've ever felt pours into me like molten lead.

Oh h.e.l.l no!

A huge gust of wind outside rattles the windows and knocks the patio table over like a Jersey housewife. Both Adam and Cheyenne jolt with surprise, and the game of tonsil hockey is called. "What was that?" Adam asks.

"The wind I think," Cheyenne says.

Adam peels the wh.o.r.e off him and stands. "I better check it out."

"Why? It was just the wind."

As he pa.s.ses me, I swear he looks right into my eyes, a little embarra.s.sed. Good. He opens the sliding gla.s.s door and steps out. Reading his mind, I know what to do. I quickly tiptoe through the kitchenette and out the open door. The problem is that Cheyenne is a few steps behind me. I barely have time to step aside before she plows past. "Told you it was just the wind."

"These days you can't be too careful," Adam says, picking up the table. "There is a demon running around town."

Cheyenne rolls her eyes. "Oh, spare me from demon talk. I'm so over it."

"You're not afraid? It was here a few hours ago."

She runs her hand down his chest. "It takes a lot to scare me."

"But Mona-"

She pulls her hand away while rolling her eyes again. "Oh, please shut up about her. All day all I've heard is demon, Mona, demon, Mona! I am sick of that fat, sad, know-it-all. She ain't as great or mighty as she pretends to be. She's only Priestess because her grandmother knew she'd have nothing else in her life. She felt sad for her like we all do. h.e.l.l, I wouldn't be surprised if she summoned that d.a.m.n demon herself just to show how powerful she thinks she is when she kills it or whatever, and give her something to do. It's downright pathetic."

It takes every ounce of my willpower not to choke her. Or cry.

"Don't-don't talk about her that way, okay? She's my ... cousin," Adam says.

"Mine too, but you don't know her as well as I do. I've been around her all my life. She's always been the same. Arrogant, prissy, thinks her s.h.i.+t don't stink. h.e.l.l, I'm pretty sure she's still a virgin. She has no pa.s.sion. Cold, frigid b.i.t.c.h from birth. Now I, on the other hand," she says, running her tentacle through his hair, "do not have that problem." She kisses him again. "Let's go back inside, and I'll prove it." She takes Adam's hand and leads him inside.

With a shudder, I let out the breath I was holding. I don't care what that b.i.t.c.h thinks about me. I don't. So why are the tears coming? No, no way. I'm not giving her that satisfaction.

I make it back to the car with no trouble, since Cheyenne is once again busy sticking her bilious tongue down Adam's throat. Not for long though. I pull out my cell and call his. He picks up on the sixth ring. "Time to come home," I say.

"Hey, Mona-" he says, but I hang up, start the car, and get the h.e.l.l out of Dodge.

The girls are still asleep when I return home, and Auntie Sara is watching Antiques Roadshow and knitting. "How'd it go?" she asks, standing up.

"Could have been better. Thanks for watching them."

She takes her car keys from my hand. "Of course, dear. Will you need me tomorrow night too?"

"Tomorrow?"

"The auction. You're still going, right?"

She knows about that? Of course she does, she's a one-woman gossip mill. "I totally forgot about it," I say, shaking my head. "We'll see. Let me walk you home."

She puts on her coat, and we walk out. "Did you find anything?" she asks.

"No. Still at square one after three days. To be honest, I really have no idea what I'm doing. We keep making it up as we go. Miss Marple makes it look so easy. I mean, it might not even be Cheyenne."

"Of course it is," Auntie Sara says as we stroll. "That girl is just like her grandmother: crazy and mean as h.e.l.l. And Maxine's mama was the same. I don't know what Daddy was thinking when he took up with Jackie. He usually had better taste in mistresses than that. Mind you, they were normally poor trash, but they knew to keep their traps shut and cash the d.a.m.n checks. Except Jackie. She kept showing up on our porch begging and threatening. I mean he gave her money, what more did they want? Not even Granny Ramona could back them off."

"That must have been horrible for you."

"Well, having to go to school with your half-sisters and pretend you're not related was a strain. I wanted nothing to do with them. Sally, your granny, on the other hand, went out of her way to be friendly, even to Maxine. That one blew up in her face more than once," she says with a scoff. "The worst time was right before her wedding. Sally wanted to invite the whole town, Maxine included. Well, your granny was walking down the street with Albert and me when all of a sudden Maxine comes barreling out the general store screaming like a banshee about Sally rubbing her rich wedding in her face, calling poor Sally a million names." Sara shakes her head. "I'll never forget it. Your grandfather stepped right in front of us, looked Maxine square in the eye, and as cool as a cuc.u.mber said, 'If you don't stop talking to her like that, I swear to G.o.d above I will strike you down so you never utter another word again. Leave.' And d.a.m.ned if she didn't. I knew right then, despite what everyone in town said about Sally marrying a lowly mechanic, that they'd be together forever."

We reach her porch but don't go in. "Papa really loved her, huh?"

"Oh yes. You saw it, I know you did. True love is a beautiful thing. Your mama and daddy had it too. So did Lawrence and I. G.o.ddess, I loved that man. He made my body sing. My greatest regret was not marrying him before he s.h.i.+pped off to Germany." I vaguely remember Granny mentioning Sara's beau, Lawrence, but nothing else. She sighs. "You'll have a great love too. I know you will, Mona Leigh."

She's the only one in town who does, apparently. "Well, whoever he is, he's taking his sweet time getting here, huh?"

My Acura rolling down the street draws our attention. Adam climbs out of the car and nods at us, bed hair wild as he moves. He does a quick walk of shame into the house. My lips purse in disapproval "That boy needs to brush his hair," Auntie Sara says.

I kiss her cheek. "Thanks again. Love you." I hustle back to the house, turning on the barrier before going inside. The faucet's running in the kitchen where I find Adam filling a gla.s.s with water. "So what happened?"

He chugs the water then sighs. "She forgot her wallet. I texted you."

"I left my cell in the car." Really have to stop doing that. "Why didn't you offer to pay for dinner?"

"I did! She said she was worried about getting carded. She insisted, what could I do? I'm sorry. Did you have a chance to find anything?"

"In the five whole minutes I had, no. Nothing except a p.o.r.no set in her bedroom," I say with a shudder. "And I can't believe you fell for that wallet trick. What are you, a fifteen-year-old girl? She just wanted to lure you back to her lair so she could suck your soul out."

"Then I'm glad you were there to rescue me," he says with a grin.

"And here I thought you'd be mad."

"Why?"

"Seemed like you were enjoying yourself a little on that couch."

"h.e.l.l, no. She tasted like cigarettes and smelled like cheap perfume, and that was before she said that bulls.h.i.+t about you. I couldn't get out of there fast enough." He shakes his head. "Are you okay? I mean, she was pretty f.u.c.king evil. If it wouldn't have blown our cover, I would have slapped the words out of her mouth."

I grow a little warm inside and can't stop the smile from crossing my face. "Like I care what that ho thinks about me," I lie, but only a little. I pull out bread, cold cuts, and a knife to make the girls' lunches. "Besides, it's nothing I haven't heard before."

"What? Really?"

I shrug and spread mayo on the bread. "That I have no life, no pa.s.sion. I'll die alone and childless, blah de dah. Though, just for the record, I am not a virgin. I had a boyfriend, just to be clear. He was a lying, cheating a.s.shole, but still."

"Thank you for letting me know?" Adam says in a confused tone, getting snacks for the lunches.

"I'm just saying I'm not as pathetic as she made me sound. I'm picky, that's all. I sure as h.e.l.l don't need a man to validate or complete me, unlike some. The man who ends up with me has to be pretty d.a.m.n special."

He hands me the saran wrap, meeting my eyes. "I don't doubt it for a minute."

Oh h.e.l.l's bells. Another d.a.m.n sliver of l.u.s.t moves through me again. I think I'm starting to like them. I look away and clear my throat. "So what now? Where do we go from here? Because I am fresh out of ideas."

"Then I guess we go to bed."

My gaze whips to him, eyes wide. Thank the G.o.ddess his back is to me as he locks the back door because I feel my cheeks flare up again. I look down at the counter, willing them to return to normal. Doesn't work, especially as an image of him s.h.i.+rtless and sweaty on my bed surrounded by rose petals pops into my head. "Good idea. Sleep. Always helps." I gotta get out of here before I pull a Cheyenne and pounce. I quickly wrap the sandwiches, put them in the bags, and stick them in the fridge. "Night."

"Goodnight."

I rush out, all but running up the stairs to my bedroom. Okay, what on Gaia's green earth is the matter with me? A hug, a dance, a little eye contact and I've suddenly lost twenty years of my life and am a teenager again, creating some grand love story out of next to nothing. Soph.o.m.ore year and Peter Lee all over again. It's the situation, that's all. Men and women thrown together in intense situations always go a little lo-l.u.s.t crazy. I mean, I've always thought he was attractive, I'm not gonna lie. But his rudeness and complete lack of interest in me quashed mine. I try not to fight losing battles. Though now ... no. Stop it. Any designs he may or may not have on me are purely s.e.xual due to our close proximity and his role as protector, and I don't do casual s.e.x. He's leaving Sat.u.r.day. There's no future. d.a.m.n it.

Cheyenne's right, I am pathetic. And disloyal. There's Guy to think about now. Tomorrow we start officially dating, and I am no cheater. No, I'm just grateful for Adam's help, but that does not mean I need or want to jump into bed with him. There. That's settled. Good.

I throw on my pajamas, brush my teeth, and hop in bed. Big day tomorrow. I have a date with my future husband. In less than twenty-four hours, we'll be taking the first step into our future. I'll prove them all wrong.

Even the witch ends up with Prince Charming sometimes.

WEDNESDAY TO DO:.

Continue with investigation Paint store window Make sure to check online orders Buy pantyhose/eyeliner/hairspray/condoms?

Find something to wear!!!

More demon research Try breaking into Cheyenne's again Get ready for auction Look into getting a prescription for Valium

so don't have panic attack