Wild & Hexy (20 page)

He leaned down and put his mouth close to her ear. ‘‘Do you think we can leave?’’

‘‘No.’’

‘‘Then why bother with your purse?’’

Her laugh sounded breathless. ‘‘I want to show you the prize I won for pin-the-penis-on-the-man.’’

Dorcas walked quickly in the direction of the Whispering Forest. She’d promised Ambrose she’d keep track of Isadora, and now the wily witch had given her the slip. Dorcas should have realized Isadora was getting bored and might search out better entertainment. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out where she’d gone.

Maggie and Sean’s house was about a ten-minute walk from the dragon’s favorite clearing. Dorcas followed a narrow trail, stumbling across tree roots and banging her head on overhanging branches. Just her luck—she was out here without her light globe, but at least the moon shining through the trees allowed her to see the biggest obstacles.

When she stubbed her toe on a rock that looked like a shadow, she cursed Isadora first and George second. If it weren’t for Dee-Dee, Dorcas would demand the Grand High Wizard send Isadora straight back to San Francisco. But Dorcas and Ambrose could use some help with Dee-Dee, and much as they both hated saying so, Isadora was a witch of considerable talent. Managed correctly, Isadora could be an asset.

Her work with the smallpox plague was as famous in the wizard world as it was here in Big Knob. True, she’d been a reluctant nurse, but she’d stuck it out and saved the town from potential annihilation. Underneath her brash exterior was a sympathetic heart, which had prompted her to come back and help with Dee-Dee.

As Dorcas drew closer to the clearing, she heard Isadora’s boisterous laughter float through the trees. Then George shouted, ‘‘Righteous!’’ followed by a chattering sound that had to be the raccoons.

‘‘I’m all in,’’ Isadora announced.

So they were playing poker. Dorcas had known about these nightly games for months, but she and Ambrose had never caught them at it and George was very closemouthed about the proceedings. If nothing else, she’d finally have her curiosity satisfied as to how they worked the monetary angle.

Like every dragon, George had a chest full of gold pieces in his cave under the granite spire of Big Knob. Most dragons had no reason to spend the money, but most dragons didn’t strike up a friendship with poker-playing raccoons, either. Dorcas suspected the raccoons of trying to swindle George out of his fortune.

Isadora had to have brought cash with her when she flew here from San Francisco, so she’d have no trouble buying in to the game. But what about the raccoons? They had no source of income, yet they’d been playing constantly ever since Dorcas arrived in town, and probably for years prior to that.

Led onward by the sound of the game in progress, Dorcas arrived at the edge of the dirt road that was the only vehicular access into the forest from the main road. Across the way was George’s favorite clearing, illuminated tonight by a battered kerosene lamp hanging from a tree branch.

George, Isadora and four raccoons were gathered around a large, flat-topped tree trunk. All the players perched on makeshift stools made from sections of another hefty tree trunk. George required three chunks roped together.

Everyone had stacks of poker chips, but the biggest raccoon had the most. His masked face and bright eyes were almost hidden by his pile of chips. All the supplies must have been gathered by the raccoons over the years, swiped from campsites or unguarded backyards. Dorcas didn’t know a lot about the game, but the basic requirements had apparently been met— chips, cards and a playing surface.

On the ground next to George lay a mound of shiny gold pieces. The raccoons seemed to be paying their way with necklaces, bracelets and rings. From this distance Dorcas couldn’t tell if the jewelry was valuable or not.

If she had to guess, she’d say it was all costume jewelry they’d found or stolen. George wouldn’t realize that trading his gold pieces for a fake ruby in a gold-plated setting wasn’t a fair exchange. He’d probably rather have something colorful.

As the play continued, George turned to the big raccoon seated on his left. ‘‘Are you serious, dude? You’re actually gonna raise my ass?’’

The raccoon chattered an answer Dorcas couldn’t understand. She’d studied raccoon years ago, but this southern Indiana dialect confused her.

Isadora sat up straighter on her tree stump. ‘‘I say that raccoon is dealing from the bottom of the deck.’’

Chattering angrily, the raccoon rose up on his hind legs and stared at Isadora with his bright eyes.

‘‘Oh, yes, you are.’’ Isadora lifted her chin. ‘‘I taught your ancestors how to play, and you look just like the one who was a big, fat cheater. I’ll bet cheating runs in the family.’’

Dorcas’s jaw dropped. Isadora had played poker with the raccoons back in the 1800s? No wonder the game was so entrenched in the Whispering Forest.

The big raccoon continued to chatter his protest, even holding up his little black hands as if to prove his innocence.

‘‘I don’t believe you.’’ Isadora pulled something out of her sleeve.

Dorcas gasped. It was a small wand, and Isadora was pointing it at the raccoon.

‘‘No!’’ Dorcas rushed across the road toward the clearing. ‘‘Put that away now!’’

Isadora gave her a glance of disdain. ‘‘Says who?’’

‘‘Says me.’’ George reared up to his full height and shot a flame that knocked the wand right out of Isadora’s hand.

‘‘Ouch!’’ Isadora shook her hand. ‘‘That hurt! What in Zeus’s name do you think you’re doing, shooting off your mouth like that?’’

George breathed on his claws and polished them on his chest. ‘‘Just protecting the creatures of the forest,’’ he said with studied nonchalance. ‘‘Pretty cool, huh?’’

Isadora turned to Dorcas. ‘‘Are you going to let him get away with that?’’

‘‘Absolutely.’’ Dorcas beamed at George. ‘‘That was terrific. Good for you.’’

George gave her a sly grin. ‘‘Think it’s worth a professional case of poker chips?’’

‘‘I need to talk with you about the poker, George. I—’’

‘‘There’s nothing wrong with the poker.’’ Isadora’s voice was tight with fury. ‘‘It’s the cheating raccoons I’m talking about. In my day I kept them honest. Walking around hairless for a few days never hurt anybody.’’

‘‘Who’s going to end up hairless?’’ Ambrose crossed the road looking harried and out of breath. ‘‘What did I miss?’’

Dorcas decided to focus on the positive. ‘‘George being a hero. He saved one of the raccoons.’’

‘‘What raccoons?’’ Ambrose put his hands on his knees while he caught his breath.

‘‘The four who were—’’ Dorcas glanced around the clearing and discovered the raccoons were gone, along with their baubles, the chips, the cards and . . . George’s pile of gold pieces. ‘‘They took everything except the kerosene lamp!’’

‘‘Of course they did.’’ Isadora walked over and picked up her wand. ‘‘I told you they needed to be taught a lesson, but you and your friend George wouldn’t let me. This wand better not be damaged or someone will be billed for it. This is not a cheap wand.’’

Dorcas gazed at the bare ground where the gold pieces had been. ‘‘George’s missing treasure isn’t exactly chicken feed, either.’’

‘‘Hey, there’s more where that came from.’’ George gazed eagerly at Dorcas. ‘‘Do I get the poker chips? Huh, huh? Do I?’’

Dorcas sensed Ambrose’s attention focused on her. With gold pieces missing, he’d expect her to be tough. She crossed her arms. ‘‘You’re supposed to be guarding that treasure, George, not gambling it away.’’

‘‘I’m not gambling it away!’’ He drew himself up with an indignant snort. ‘‘I might be a little behind, but give me a few more nights and I’ll win it back plus the jewels. Just watch. I’m gonna clean out those raccoons.’’

Dorcas felt a headache coming on. She wanted to believe that George was making progress, but he seemed to take one step forward and two back. As for Isadora, she was more liability than asset right now. She’d helped create this poker problem in addition to letting Dee-Dee stay in the lake, even knowing she’d be trapped there for life without a partner.

Isadora pointed her wand at a small forest plant and made it bloom. ‘‘I guess the wand’s working. Now that you guys broke up the poker game, I might as well go back to that dumb party.’’

Dorcas turned to her. ‘‘Before we head back, let’s set a time to get together and brainstorm ideas for taking care of Dee-Dee’s problem.’’

‘‘That stupid lake monster?’’ George belched loudly. ‘‘Who cares about her? Do you think my scales are turning a little more gold? I think they are. Take a look, Dorcas.’’

‘‘Excuse yourself, George,’’ Ambrose said.

‘‘ ’Scuse me. What do you think about my scales? Can you see how the gold is spreading? I’ll bet that lake monster doesn’t have any gold on her.’’

‘‘No, she doesn’t.’’ Dorcas chose to grab whatever opportunity presented itself. ‘‘She’ll always be the same color. Drab old black.’’

‘‘Except in the sunlight her skin gets iridescent and it’s really pretty,’’ Isadora said. ‘‘You can see purple, and blue, and—’’

‘‘But she can’t be out in the sun,’’ Dorcas said quickly. ‘‘So nobody will ever see that. Once you turn all gold, George, you’ll be beautiful.’’ With a quick glance she tried to enlist Ambrose in the cause. ‘‘Right, dear?’’

‘‘I’m not sure
beautiful
is the word,’’ Ambrose said.

Dorcas groaned.

‘‘I’m thinking
magnificent
is the term we should use.’’

Ah, she did love her husband.

‘‘Magnificent,’’ George said. ‘‘I like the sound of that.’’

‘‘Blah, blah, blah,’’ Isadora said. ‘‘I’m leaving before I hurl.’’ She started across the road.

‘‘We’re right behind you.’’ Ambrose beckoned to Dorcas. ‘‘Let’s go,’’ he said in a low voice. ‘‘She’s armed and dangerous.’’

‘‘Go ahead. I’ll catch up in a sec.’’ Wanting to leave George with positive thoughts, she turned back to the dragon. ‘‘I can hardly wait until you’re all gold,’’ she said. ‘‘That was wonderful what you did, sticking up for the raccoon.’’

George looked doubtful. ‘‘Yeah, but maybe Zorro was cheating. That’s not cool.’’

‘‘Zorro?’’

‘‘That’s what he calls himself. Then we’ve got the Lone Ranger, Batman and Spiderman. You know, masked dudes. Those are all heroes, so I didn’t think of anybody cheating. Maybe I should have let Isadora turn Zorro hairless.’’

‘‘No, you did the right thing.’’ Dorcas patted his arm. ‘‘And I do see the gold spreading, so that proves it. Now, I have to go.’’

‘‘What about my poker chips?’’

Dorcas lowered her voice in case Ambrose was still within hearing distance. ‘‘I’ll look into it.’’

‘‘Righteous.’’

As Jeremy headed out the front door holding Annie by the hand, he kept expecting someone to call them back, but nobody did. They made it down the front steps of the porch without incident. So far, so good.

‘‘Let’s go sit in the Suzuki,’’ he said. It wasn’t the coziest spot he could think of, but he wasn’t prepared to go off into the woods without a blanket.

‘‘How about my car instead?’’

‘‘Why?’’

She tugged him in that direction. ‘‘It’s closer.’’

‘‘Good reason.’’

‘‘And it has a bigger backseat.’’

That comment had an immediate effect on his penis. He hadn’t come prepared with condoms, but they could have a boatload of fun even without those little raincoats. He felt inventive.

Taking her keys from her purse, Annie chirped the lock open. ‘‘Come on. In here.’’ She opened the back door before he could get to it and scooted inside.

The dome light came on, so he piled in after her and closed the door so they were once again plunged into darkness. Not total darkness, though, because the lights from the house cast a faint glow into the car’s interior.

What Jeremy saw when he glanced over at Annie made him gulp. She had her dress pulled over her head, revealing a virginal white lace bra and panties. And he’d thought he preferred black.

She pulled the dress all the way off and tossed it into the front seat. ‘‘Take off your jeans.’’ Her voice was sexy-soft and breathless. ‘‘We don’t have much time.’’

‘‘We don’t have much birth control, either.’’ Even so, he unfastened his belt. Oral sex was a damned good alternative, especially when they’d accomplished all the foreplay a person could want out on the dance floor.

‘‘That’s where you’re wrong.’’ She grabbed her purse from the floor, pulled out a box and tossed it to him. ‘‘I told you I won a prize.’’

And he’d won the jackpot. He was in the backseat with a woman who craved his body
and
was packing condoms. He lost no time shucking his pants. When he encountered the obstacle of his shoes, he yanked them off without untying them. If his feet protested a little, so what?

He threw both shoes and jeans into the front seat in a jangle of keys and loose change. His shirt followed, then his briefs. He left his socks on because he doubted that she’d have the time or inclination to suck his toes.

Sucking Annie’s toes had been his pleasure this afternoon, and he wouldn’t mind a repeat, but this promised to be what everyone referred to as a quickie. Jeremy had never had a quickie. He couldn’t remember a woman who had lusted after him so desperately that she’d settle for one.

Annie, however, had taken off her bra and was shimmying out of her panties. Jeremy thought he’d best get the condom box open. He tore it apart and ripped open one of the packets inside.

Once he had it on, Annie started to giggle. Not the type of reaction a guy looked for when he was going in for the big score.

‘‘You’re green,’’ she said. ‘‘Very green.’’