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  “You need to stop it. We haven’t done anything. There have always been random earthquakes for millions of years. Guess what? They are unpredictable. It has nothing to do with us. Please don’t make it our problem. Just relax. Now pick a new topic. Talk about something else.”

  “Sure. All right.” I jumped at the chance to mess with him. “Let’s talk about your sex life.”

  “What sex life? I wouldn’t have less sex if I were on the dark side of the moon.”

  “I thought you and Gary…were…you know.”

  “What? Lovers? Just because we are both gay and good friends? Please. It’s a little insulting.”

  “Don’t go pulling that line on me, Randy. I’ve seen you two together, going out. I see how you look at him, how you talk to him, the way you act when he’s around. You like him far more than you’re letting on. So, what’s going on?”

  “Fine, maybe I like him. Okay, I like him a lot. For just once in my life…ugh. I just don’t want to mess things up. I’ve never had a long-term relationship. You know, the meaningful kind. I’ve never been in…I’m not even sure how to go about whatever you want to call it.”

  “Whatever?” I couldn’t have been struck with more disbelief if he’d grown a pair of antlers right there at the breakfast table.

  “Jaysus almighty! We’re not plottin’ a murder. It’s love! It’s only love we’re talking about, you jug head!”

  I took away his paper again and freshened his goose egg with another whack on the head. I handed the paper back. “Do you honestly think you’ll ever have something special if you’re scared to death of it? I think you need to get help. Just like Brad and I did.”

  Darcy leapt onto the countertop, pounced on my wand, and delivered it to my open palm. “Thank you, Darcy. Now, let’s make love—uh…” My mouth froze while my brain reset its speech function. “That didn’t come out right.” Clearing my throat, I continued, “Let’s get you some lovin’. You know what I mean.”

  “Stop! No. No magic intervention. For now at least.”

  With a wink, I blew him a kiss and handed the wand back to Darcy. “You’ve got nothing to be afraid of, Randy.”

  “Maybe we should switch this around? Let’s talk about you and Brad. Let’s talk about your sex life.”

  “What about us? We’re fine. Mostly.”

  Never in a million years would I tell Brad that he and I were mostly fine. Brad’s fiery passion had dropped down a notch or two. On four occasions in the past month, Brad suggested that we catch up on sleep rather than enjoy nightly playtime. It was like missing out on playtime once a week! I hoped Brad wasn’t losing interest, after all, I had at least a hundred years of sex to catch up on.

  “But you sure as hell aren’t quiet. Did you know I have to go to sleep with headphones on? It sounds like a pair of drunken chimpanzees tearing up your room. It took me a few nights to figure out why you suddenly start shouting like a pirate—an Irish pirate. It’s when you’re—”

  I could feel my face flush as red as a ripe tomato, and there was nothing I could do other than wave my hand.

  “Stop right there, Randy. No need to elaborate. Sorry about that. We’ll try to be a little more discreet.”

  I knew I had to shut him up before he started an exaggerated impersonation of my most passionate moments.

  “Let’s talk about the bed and breakfast project. We’re down to one room left to decorate. This drab kitchen. I have some color ideas I’d like to go over.”

  Randy didn’t give in that easy. He was just about to carry on his childish antics anyway, but before he could get started, a dragon’s roar rattled the kitchen walls. “Olaf! God, that friggin’ dragon is so damn loud.”

  “That’s his happy howl. Brad must be home.” I ran for the front door and sure enough, Brad stepped in. I had really been enjoying having Brad around more since he’d moved down to the plantation, but I wasn’t a big fan of the fire department’s rotating swing shift business.

  Chapter 2

  A New Calling

  As soon as I wrapped my arms around him, my sixth sense detected something was amiss. I knew he had something to tell me, but he wasn’t sure about how to go about bringing it up. That is never a good combination.

  “Might as well just say it,” I whispered, nuzzling my face into the familiar little dip in the center of his broad muscular chest.

  “Whatever it is.” I swallowed—dryly, and with some difficulty. It felt like I just choked down a cactus. I was certain I was about to be served with heart-wrenchingly awful, terrible news of the first degree.

  Brad scooped me up in his arms and kissed me. “Sunshine? What’s going on?”

  “You know I can feel things. You know I have special witch senses.”

  “Oh, you don’t really believe in that kind of stuff, do you?”

  “Of course I do. You of all people should know. Take, for example, the time I knew you were about to fall down the stairs. I said, ‘Watch your step, Brad. You’re about to trip and fall down the stairs’. You fell all the way from the top to the bottom, bouncing your head off of every tread.”

  “Well…sure. After all, you let those baby dragons run up the stairs while I was carrying those boxes into the attic. I actually think those little demons tripped me on purpose.”

  “Maybe, then how about the time I knew Randy was about to fall? I said to him, ‘Watch out, boy, you’re going to fall from that ladder’, and then sure enough, he fell twenty feet. Broke his clavicle and bruised his scrotum.”

  Brad winced at the painful thought of it. “Oooh, yeah. That was ugly. But, Sunshine, anyone with eyeballs could see that he was about to fall. He was too lazy to move the ladder, so he tried hanging on the side of it to paint the rest of that window frame. Randy’s an accident waiting to happen anyway.”

  “Still, I was right about those things. You can’t argue with the facts. And now I can tell you have something to say to me, but you don’t want to. I want you to get it over with. So just say it.”

  I forced my eyes shut, like I awaited a firing squad to carry out their order to execute me. “Okay, I’m ready. Fire!”

  Brad cleared his throat, a sure sign of bad news, or maybe even worse, a confession. “Remember when I told you about all of the search and rescue training I’ve completed? Turns out I’m now the most qualified search and rescue team leader in the Parish, possibly in the entire state of Louisiana.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s a good thing then. You can search and rescue me anytime. Do you get to wear a special patch or something?”

  “No, well…maybe, but what it means is that I’ve been asked to set up an emergency global response team of volunteers. The goal is to have a team who can respond to disasters, anywhere in the world, at a moment’s notice. Think how important it could be to have something like that, especially with all these earthquakes lately. We could really save some people, Gertie.”

  Brad’s eyes sparkled, like a little boy who had just dreamed up a tree house adventure. His smile was absolutely contagious. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anyone so happy about anticipating a cataclysmic disaster!”

  “Oh. Sorry. It’s not the disasters, it’s the excitement of being able to help out. Of course, there’s some work to be done first. We don’t even have a properly trained search and rescue dog. I was thinking that would be something you could help me out with, Sunshine.”

  “A dog? Now we’re talking! But why stop with just a dog? I mean, the possibilities are endless. Just look around.” Olaf bellowed his best dragon’s roar from the front yard, Kate and Wills howled their Sasquatch calls in agreement. “See? Seems like they’re all volunteering for search and rescue.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We might be used to having paranormal pets around, but that doesn’t mean Peruvian villagers hanging on the side of a mountain aren’t going to completely wig out at the sight of flying monkeys or guitar-strumming Sasquatches riding in on galloping unicorns—”

 
“Banjo, you mean banjo strumming.”

  “Oh, yeah. Excuse me. Banjo-strumming Sasquatches. In any case, I think you know what I mean, Gertie. I would like to stay away from mythical beasts. Isn’t there some magic you could use on a regular, everyday dog? Something to make it a super search and rescue animal?”

  “Oh sure! Still, I think you should seriously consider a search and rescue cat. Nothing says ‘I’m here to help’ like a nice pussy.”

  Brad made a choking sound. “Words to live by, Sunshine. How about this? Let’s see what you come up with and we’ll do a trial of sorts. You know, test out a couple different ones and see what service animal would be most useful.”

  “Good idea. I’ll get right on that this week. Randy and I will be finishing the last of the painting, too. Do you have any preference for colors in the kitchen?”

  “None whatsoever.”

  Now, I knew he didn’t necessarily have a preference, I just wanted to see if he brought up an aversion to any colors in particular. I had a color in mind, something pinkish—shockingly pinkish.

  So it goes without saying, I wasn’t about to bring up my color specifically. After that, I happily went about my morning, smiling as I imagined how bright and pink my kitchen would soon be.

  I was also quite excited about training a new magical search and rescue animal.

  “Meow.” Darcy rubbed against my leg, letting me know she’d listened in on my conversation with Brad.

  “Sorry, Darcy. Your duties are much too important already. Who’d take care of my messages? Or help me with magic spells?”

  “Meow, meow.”

  “Randy? No way could he fill your paws. But you can help by finding some volunteer candidates for the rescue animal position.”

  “Meow.”

  Darcy didn’t seem happy with my answer. As any cat person will tell you, cats are sometimes very vengeful creatures. I hoped this wouldn’t become a problem.

  Chapter 3

  Can’t Predict the Fuchsia

  Randy leaned his head into the kitchen’s doorway. “Coloring time?”

  I selected a crayon from the waxy rainbow sea covering the kitchen table. “I have every color Crayola could possibly come up with. I think I’m close to finding the one I want, but they don’t exactly have the right tone.”

  “So, which one is closest?”

  “Fucks yeah.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Fuck see ya?”

  “What the hell kind of crayons are those, Gertie?”

  Randy plucked the single purplish crayon from my hand. “Have you been sniffing glue? Fuchsia! This color’s pronounced few-sha!”

  “Okay, fuchsia then. But not quite. It needs to be shaded toward Pink Flamingo, with a touch of Purple Pizzazz.”

  “Fine. Gather up your crayons and go to Salem. I’m sure Cosmos can get the paint mixed to your liking. Just remember, you’ll need to have some lighter colors, too. If you paint every square inch of this kitchen in purply-pizzazz-pink-flamingo-fuck-see-ya, you’ll go insane.”

  Randy turned around and made it back to the door in three brisk steps. “Brad! Come see what color paint they use in Hell.”

  “What’s this?” Brad took the crayons and held them up to the light. “Fuck see ya, I think.”

  “Oh God. You, too? Listen carefully, fuchsia. It’s pronounced few-sha, and Gertie here has decided that the kitchen should be painted as purple as Barney’s asshole.”

  “Really? Barney the Dinosaur? I didn’t even know he had an asshole.” Brad shrugged and handed the crayon back to me. “Maybe it’s a bit over the top, Sunshine.”

  My mouth nearly hit the floor. Like a defiant kindergartner striking a stoic pose, I held my crayons high. “You’ll see, once I get the exact color paint mixed.” I stomped over to the silverware drawer and took out my miniature broom. “Let’s go get some paint, boys.”

  “Ah, not so fast, Gertie. The station had three calls last night. I’d like to get a few hours of sleep. It’s still early enough. How about we go this afternoon?”

  Randy slapped his hand on my shoulder. “Yeah, let the poor boy rest. God knows he won’t get any sleep tonight. Besides, I’m not going anywhere, we have guests checking in.”

  “Guests?”

  “Yeah. That tour group from the U.K.”

  “Wait, you mean that entire coven of witches from Wales? That’s this weekend? Are you ready?”

  Randy shooed away my concerns with a prima donna flick of his wrist. “Please. I’m always prepared. I told you, this is going to be the most efficiently run bed and breakfast in the South. I’ve got the Ghost Tour of the French Quarter scheduled. Thanks to Marie Laveau, the guide will be an authentic ghost. She even put together a Voodoo ceremony and a swamp tour. I scrubbed down Olaf’s smelly dragon hide and cleaned up Becky the Nessie’s lair. You already have all the other beasties in good order, so I’m not even concerned with them. Now, go on to Salem without us. Have fun with your crayons.”

  Randy strolled out of the room. Brad gave me a kiss and headed up to bed.

  “I guess it’s just you and me, Darcy girl.”

  I looked around and it seemed like even my cat had abandoned me. I noticed my canvas tote bag swinging on the door handle. A black cat’s tail hung out of the top, twitching with anticipation.

  “Aha! You’re all set to go shopping.” With a quick shake of my broom, I changed into a short sleeveless lime green dress, a pair of knee-high tangerine vinyl boots, and a matching floppy-brimmed sunhat.

  Now, as everyone knows, you can’t use regular broom travel for a trip to magical Salem, only a portal will do. Fortunately, Esmerelda had created a portal at the Witches Union office.

  Another shake of my broom and a quick incantation took Darcy and me straight to the lobby of the Union office. “Portal, portal. Now where is that portal again?”

  “I’ve seen a lot of things come through this lobby, but never a giant slice of cantaloupe.”

  “Ezzy? What are you doing here on a Sunday morning?”

  “Marie. She agreed to set up some last minute tours for the helpless bonehead who has some guests coming into town, so of course I was pulled into this mess. She’s taking care of the Voodoo ceremony and the haunted swamp tour. I’ve got to find a ghost available and willing to take these witches around New Orleans to check out all of the famously haunted places. What are you doing here?”

  “Using the portal. I have some shopping to do in Salem.”

  “Good. I’m going with you. I need to disappear for a while. Ghosts—Goddess help me! Hard to believe, but some people are bigger pains in the ass dead than they were when they were alive.”

  “Great, I’m glad you’re tagging along! You’re always pleasant company, Ezzy.”

  “Oh please. Lies like that will ruin my reputation.” Ezzy opened one of the several oak panel doors that comprised the wall behind her desk.

  “Give me a second to get into something suitable for Salem.” I’m sure I blushed when Ezzy stripped and looked at me. “Hmm. Let’s see, what would make us look good together.”

  She selected a lacy peach dress and white shoes. “That will work. Now, let’s see what kind of mischief a couple of redhead witches can get into, shall we?”

  “Oh, I really didn’t have mischief on my list. Just paint—maybe a few things to match the new colors in my kitchen.”

  “Of course. No mischief.” Her eyes glistened and her lip formed a sly smile. “That’s what they all say.” With a wink, she took my hand and together we walked into the closet and through a shimmering portal to an alternate magical dimension.

  Chapter 4

  Shopping in Salem

  “There it is.” I skipped across the cobblestone street, unintentionally leaving Ezzy behind.

  “Sorry, baby. I don’t skip, scurry or hurry. Where are you going?”

  “Cosmos’ hardware store. I need some paint.” I was already at the door, my hand waiting to open the glass door. “I’ll wait
.”

  “So kind,” Ezzy muttered, stepping onto the sidewalk behind me. “Why buy paint from an old fool like Cosmos? You know the old codger, he’s just going to try to feel you up.”

  “Because the paint I want is a special shade of fuck—errr, fushi—I don’t know how to say it properly. Anyway, it’s a special purplish red.”

  I opened the door and we walked into the dimly lit store. Ezzy hacked an obviously fake cough. “Gods. What does he sell here? Dirt?”

  I knew right where the paint mixing counter was along the back wall.

  “Cosmos? Hello!”

  I called repeatedly, but there was no answer.

  “Quiet as a titmouse on a tightrope. I don’t get it.”

  Just then I noticed Cosmos’ familiar purple ankle length robe and his wizard’s hat, with the flaccid point, hanging from the coat hooks in his small office.

  Ezzy spied a cobweb cloaked bell on the counter and slapped it repeatedly.

  “I’d hate to run across the spider who controls this bell. Ugh.”

  Ezzy shook a long webby string of dust and grime from her hand.

  “Disgusting.”

  The air crackled.

  Ezzy nearly popped out of her shoes, falling back on me. Green phosphorescent letters appeared on the counter.

  “If you’re reading this, I’m not here! Gone skinny dipping down at the river with some hot ass witches. If you’re a hot ass witch, come down and join in. Otherwise, help yourself to what you need. Just write it down. Be careful! Not all magic is suitable for all witches.”

  “Well…” My hands rested on my hips, I glanced at the hundreds of paint cans. Almost all of them weren’t labeled. If they were, it was buried in a thin coat of rust. “Do you think we should go down to the river and ask him what paints to mix?”

  “Really? The river? Only if you want to see Cosmos and his geriatric buddies, in all their pink wrinkly glory, splashing around. God almighty, it’d be like seeing a bathtub full of naked mole rats.”

  “I suppose you’re right, Ezzy.” A stray thought ricocheted through my head. “Have you given naked mole rats a bath before? And why would you?”