Page 1 of Wicked Witch

WYNTER

“This can not be happening again!”I scream into the empty bar, throwing my cell phone at the wall not caring that it’s now in pieces and I’ll have to clean up the mess. Moving along the hall, I walk into my office and close the door.

My closet calls to me once again. Sliding the accordion style doors open, I grab my cards, crystal ball and candles, setting them up on my desk and lighting them. “He thinks he can blow me off! Well let’s just see what he’s up to this evening,” I growl, laying my hands over the ball and closing my eyes, feeling my powers rush through my hands and tingle the tips of my fingers.

Images flash behind my eyelids and I smirk as my canceled date, Magnus Michael comes into focus. He’s sitting back against his black leather sofa with some tramp grinding on his lap.

“Well, doesn’t this look cozy,” I hiss, then mumble a spell under my breath and watch as the woman’s clothes become fused to her body, so Magnus can’t remove them. Yes, it is a childish prank, but funny nonetheless. I also give him a twenty-four hour erectile dysfunction curse and call it a day.

You think I would be used to this by now. Every time I find someone that I click with, they blow me off or disappoint me. Opening my eyes with a sigh, I blow out the lit candles and put everything back into my closet.

Glancing down at the sexy blue dress I’m wearing, I groan. I even fucking waxed for that asshole. My stomach grumbles as I grab my purse and keys. Just because I’m no longer going out with Magnus doesn’t mean this outfit needs to go to waste.

I’ll just pop over to my favorite club, grab some food and maybe a fuck. But honestly this shit is getting tiring. Same old routine night after night. Some meaningless hook-up but never a commitment.

Maybe the curse that my great-great grandmother joked about is actually real. Us Nefari women are just not made to love.

WYNTER

They sayin order to find true love you must love yourself first. Well if that’s true, then I am entirely fucked. People tell me I’m wicked. Evil. Cruel. Which I guess is accurate. I think it’s more to do with me not liking anyone though, including myself.

It wasn’t always like this. I was once a bubbly person. Full of hopes and dreams but after being stood up at the altar not once or twice, but three times you kind of start to not give a fuck.

They all swear it wasn’t me, but it had to be right?

My mother jokes it’s the curse, but at this point I’ve given up. My heart is now cold and black, and I’m fine with it. I’ll just run this bar and bookshop until I’m old and gray, and then adopt a hundred cats and call it a life.

Who needs a man or children to make them happy? All they do is break hearts and make messes. Nope, I’ll stick to my brews, books and cats.

Leaving the bookstore, I walk down the spiral staircase to my bar, getting it ready to open for the night. Halee and Roy arealready here getting the chairs set up and lights turned on. We have an open mic night tonight and usually I would be at home and not have to listen to people wax poetic or sing off key, but Karl called in sick and me being the boss, I had to suck it up, pull up my big witch panties, and bite the bullet.

Roy gets on stage and starts to sing some off key popstar’s song, and I cringe. He’s lucky he’s a damn good bartender and semi-friend of mine or I would fire his ass and maybe curse him for good measure.

“Roy, for fucksake! Don’t make me kick your ass,” I shout and he laughs making the microphone screech. Ugh, I did not need a migraine today. Rubbing my temples, I leave the bar area and walk into my office to chill out before we get busy.

Tomorrow I need to look into hiring a contractor for my expansion. This place is too small for everything I want to do. The bar is a good size, but the bookstore upstairs needs an addition added on.

I’d like to maybe have a bakery added in, but we will have to see. It’s hard finding good work. I’d call up my ex who could just give me a magical renovation, but I think he’s still mad that I gave him warts on his face.

Shouldn’t have left me on our wedding day. Standing there with everyone looking at me with pity as I fought the tears while my heart was shattering into a million pieces.

No, I will just have to find someone in the Witches’ Black Pages. I should just move somewhere and start over. This place has only brought me misery. Maybe a new town or hell dimension would be better.

I could start fresh… Hmm, something to definitely consider. A knock on the door brings me back to what I came in here to do and I reach into my desk drawer for a pair of magical invisible earplugs and a potion to prevent a headache.

I’m going to need both.

ARSEN (SIN)

“I still can’t believe I let you drag me here,” I grumble to my brother. When he suggested we grab some beers after work, I didn’t think he was leading me into the Wicked Witch’s lair.

“Will you stop! You haven’t seen Wynter in years, and it wasn’t your fault that her fiancé dumped her,” he replies while dragging a chair along the polished floors and taking a seat.

I follow suit and glance around the place. I haven’t been here in years but it doesn’t look like much has changed, not that surprising considering Wyn was always set in her ways. A cute blonde comes up to our table with some complementary shots of whiskey and a notepad.

“Hey, y’all, welcome to Brews & Books, I’m Halee and I’ll be serving ya this evening,” she says while placing the shots in the middle of the table with a big Texas smile on her red painted lips.

“Have you been here before or do we have a couple of virgins in our midst?” she asks, and my asshole twin chokes on his shot, guawfing at the absurdity of her question. I smirk and watch as her cheeks become rosier than the blush she's wearing.

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