Page 15 of Witch Queens: Tales from Oz

Her bright auburn haircascaded over her like a cloud as she threw her head back for the umpteenth time, her rich laughter filling the air.

“Stop!” she said in between clutching her stomach, “You are making this up!”

I wanted to commit sororicide—you know, kill your own sister. But I had just told Scarecrow that we don’t kill everyone that annoys us.

Damn morals.

Mombi’s eyes glittered with amusement, “The bitch actually tried to drop a house on you, stole your best Jimmie Choo's, and is now picking off the Munchkins?”

When she put it like that, it sounded pretty bad even to me—like I couldn’t handle my own shit. I folded my arms defensively.

“Look,” I said sharply, “I am just trying to be a good sister. I thought Dorothy might be headed here next.”

Mombi’s smile widened, “And you were worried about the giants? Darling, you shouldn’t, they are made of tough stock.”

She was impossible! I looked over at Scarecrow, who seemed to be deriving a great deal of amusement out of my frustration.

“Are you going to back me up here?” I demanded.

He glanced my way and damn if I didn’t get caught for the shortest moment on the rugged cut of his whiskered chin. No man should ever be that attractive.

“No need, Princess, you are doing so well on your own.”

I really needed to rethink that killing policy. “Fine! Whatever. At least I know that I tried to warn you.”

Mombi stood, stretching her long legs, and looking like a playboy bunny rising from her bed.

“Darling, do come by again soon, I had forgotten just how witty you could be. And Scarecrow, it has been too long my friend.”

Just what in the hell did she mean by that?

Scarecrow took his sweet ass time bowing over her hand. By the time our goodbyes were said, and we had gotten back on the bike, I was dreaming up all kinds of histories that they could have had together.

Night had fallen when we pulled up to his place. The lights from the bar were shrouded by the dirty windows.

I hopped off the bike and went straight inside not stopping until I hit the bar.

Jake grinned at me, his massive arms flexing as he rubbed a spot off a tall tumbler. “Hello, Beautiful, what can I do for you?”

“Gin and tonic,” I replied, my head sinking into my palm.

He started fixing my drink, “Not a good day?”

Scarecrow came up behind me and took the drink that Jake had just finished making for me. Throwing it back with one swallow before he set the cup down.

“What has your panties in a twist?” his dark eyes held a hint of danger.

“That was my fucking drink!” I scowled.

“It’s my fucking bar!” he challenged, moving in close so that I could smell his woodsy cologne and that scent that was all him.

I tried to scoot back, and almost tell off my stool.

Scarecrow grabbed me before I fell and threw me over his shoulder, “Night, Jake.”

“I don’t want to go to bed. I want a drink, you, asshole!” I pounded on his back as he sauntered upstairs.

I tried not to think about how hard his back muscles felt against my fists or the sexy sway of his tight ass.

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