Grab your hat and boots and head for the desert, ‘cause this lady’s claiming her Dragon and nothin’ will ever be the same.
~ EXCERPT ~
“Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!”
Whap! Cluck! Kick!
“Owwwwww, oh, owwwowwwowwww. Shit! Shit! Shit!”
Hopping
on one foot, cursing the day she’d ever decided to take a cross-country
trip all by her lonesome, Dax glared at the steam shooting from the
radiator of her bright red Jeep Cherokee. “What the hell, Daisy Mae? Why
now? Why here?” Dropping her booted foot onto the dry, dusty ground
even though her toes still ached from where she’d kicked her beloved
Jeep in the rear tire, she looked one way and then the other. “There’s
nothing but dirt, cactus, and coyote crap for miles.”
Stomping
towards the vehicle and throwing open the back door, she grabbed two of
her last three gallons of drinking water with a grunt and a groan.
Making her way back to the front of the vehicle, she plopped them on the
ground and pulled her cell phone out of the back pocket of her jeans.
Might as well call her bestie and listen to her bitch while waiting for
the engine to cool off enough to work on it.
Leaning
her butt against Daisy Mae’s front quarter panel, she slid her finger
along the screen, tapped in her password, and spat, “Son of a…” Shaking
her fist that was holding the device above her head towards the cell
phone gods, she slapped the useless phone against her thigh and snarled,
“No service. None at all. Why the hell do I even pay the stupid bill? I
swear to the Goddess that damn salesman said, ‘Coverage all over the
world’. I oughta burn his stupid little bubble-gum-pink shop to the
ground.”
Marching
back to the vehicle, she opened the driver’s side door, dropped into
the seat and slapped the palm of her free hand against the steering
wheel again and again as she threw back her head and screamed, “What did
I ever do to you? I give to charity, feed stray animals, don’t litter,
and say my prayers. Can’t I at least get a break this one time? I mean,
come…”
The
sound of her cell phone playing ‘Poison’ by Bel Biv DeVoe had Dax
whipping the device up from her leg and punching the green button with
so much force the tip of the nail on her index finger went flying
through the air. Slamming the phone to her ear, she demanded, “Bryn is
that you? Bryn? Bryndle Ma…”
“Stop
right there, Dakota Jane Sparks. I swear I’ll turn you into a toad and
laugh my ass off every single time your butt bumps the ground.”
Rolling
her eyes and taking a deep breath to keep from shrieking at her best
friend, Dax quickly changed the subject and asked, “How did you call me?
This stupid phone has no service. I swear this whole damn cell phone
thing is a serious rip-off. I oughta…”
“Did
you really just ask me that?” Bryn interrupted with a tsk. “I am part
witch, ya’ know? Just like you, except for the fact that I know how to
use mine for more than heating up my coffee, popping popcorn, and making
the margarita glasses frosty.”
“Yeah,
yeah, yeah, you’re a regular Sabrina the Teenage Witch.” She’d thought
about calling the woman who’d been her bestie since grade school Endora
but knew that would only make the five-foot-nothing bundle of piss and
vinegar feistier than she already was, so Dax had gone with the cute,
little, blond TV witch just to keep the peace.
And Bryn will pay for that shit later…
Was
there something wrong with embracing her Fire Horse side and basically
ignoring her Celtic Witch heritage? Being a horse that could fly, breath
fire, manipulate fire – basically make fire her beyotch, not to
mention having a swirly, glowing-ember horn like a Unicorn if she wanted
to was way better than zapping empty bottles with spells and wands any
old day of the week.
Sure,
her mom would never understand why she didn’t practice witchcraft. For
the tall, slender redheaded witch who Dax called momma, with the face of
an angel, and a heart of gold, being a Witch and wielding magic had
come naturally. She’d taught many a novice with elegant expertise –
every single one, but her own daughter, that is.
The
battle had been ongoing from the first time sparks flew from Dax’s
fingers when she was still in nappies. “Yoo cannae expect tae master yer
magic if ye ne'er try, Dakota, me loove. Flyin' aroond wi' yer hooves
in th' air will only git ye sae far.” She could hear her mother’s thick
Scottish brogue as if the fiery redhead was standing at her side.
Of
course, right on the heels of her mom’s warning came her dad’s smooth,
southern drawl of reassurance. “Now there’s nothin’ wrong with Dax
spreading her wings every once in a while, Darlin’.” He’d always pull
his wife close and kiss her on the top of the head before adding,
“Besides, if she doesn’t blow off some of that fire, she might just
combust.”
Too
damn cute for words – that was her parents. Even the story of how they
met was something that made everyone swoon. It was actually kind of
sickening and absolutely adorable and something Dax wanted more than she
would ever in a million years admit out loud.
“Hello! Earth to Dax. Come in, Dakota Ja…”
“Dammit,
Bryn, shut your mouth!” Dax seethed, feeling the fire building in her
veins and working as hard as she could to keep it under control. “I let
it slide once, but that’s all you get. I may not be able to turn you
into a toad, but I can darn sure set that closet of yours ablaze.”
“You wouldn’t?” Bryn squealed.
Clearing
her throat and getting her brain out of the clouds while ignoring her
friends outrage at the threat to the metric ton of clothes, shoes, and
purses she’d acquired over the hundreds of years they’d been alive, Dax
snapped right back to reality and sassed, “Since you didn’t whip up this
phone call to help me with my car troubles, and I’m praying it wasn’t
to just call me by my Christian name and lecture me for the umpteenth
time about my inept skills in the field of magic, why don’t you just get
on with it?”
Yes, she was winding her bestie up, but that’s what friends are for, right?
“No, I will not help you with that beat-up, hunk of junk. I’ve told you a hundred times that you…”
“I
need to get a new car or learn the spell to fix the one I have or
both,” Dax groaned in unison with Bryn’s usual litany, laughing out loud
when her friend added, “Because I am older, smarter, and prettier.”
Laughing even harder when she heard the chuckle in Bryn’s voice, Dax teased, “And more of a pain in the ass.”
“Hey, now, I resemble that statement.”
Laughing so hard she had to work to catch her breath, Dax wheezed, “Yes, you do, my dear, but then again, so do I.”
“No, truer words were ever spoken.”
Switching
her phone to the other ear so she could take a drink of water when Dax
was finally able to form a coherent sentence, she asked, “So, before you
bibbidi-bobbidi-boo my pleasantly round ass home, what did you really call for?”
“Oh,
yeah, that.” Bryn suddenly sounded distracted right before an eerie
buzz joined their conversation. “I was…I was…yeah…ummm…”
“Out
with it. I’m sweating like the last turkey in a field of pigs the day
before Thanksgiving. This place is hot as hell and twice as dry.”
Waiting
for a snappy comeback from the girl who’d taught her to cuss with fluid
elegance, blow spitballs with accuracy, and shoot beer cans off a fence
at a hundred yards with an ancient Winchester, a creepy feeling started
to creep up Dax’s spine. Something was off. Bryn was never quiet, even
if she had nothing to say. The tiny Witch had two speeds – fast and
faster – and that was for her feet, her mouth, her mind, and her magic.
Sitting
up straight as she threw the empty water bottle over her shoulder and
into the backseat, Dax growled, “Bryn, you’re freakin’ me out. What the
hell is goin’ on?”
“I just can’t… It’s that…” Her voice sounded hollow and oh so very far away.
“Alright, enough messin’ around. This isn’t funny at all. Talk to me. Dammit, Bryn…”
