Page 87 of Witch Queens: Tales from Oz

A faint stain of color graced his cheeks.

“What is it?” I bit off.

“The lionesses have a new witch friend, which is weird because I thought there weren’t any other witches beside the King's daughters.”

“Dorothy.”

Jake and I spoke at the same time.

Eric raised his head, “You know her? She’s a right bitch.”

“I am sure you didn’t come all this way to tell me that,” I frowned. I knew Eric, and the man had no altruistic qualities. He had to want something, that was how he worked.

“Well, there is something,” he heaved a sigh, “Look, she cast some spell that made my dick feel like it’s asleep. No matter what I do, it won’t get hard. And trust me, I have tried just about everything.”

Images flew through my mind, “Eww! What do you want me to do about it?”

“Reverse the spell!” he demanded. “You're powerful. Surely you can do something. I can’t live like this.”

My lips twitched, as far as punishments go, I actually agreed with this one.

“I don’t know if there is a way to reverse it,” innocence laced my tone.

The color fled from his face, “Are you serious? Fuck!”

Jake coughed, and then coughed again.

Eric eyed me suspiciously, “Are you shitting me?”

“Me?” I held my hand to my chest like the Oscar-winning actress I can be, “Definitely not.”

Jake’s lips twitched, “It would appear that your only option is to help us get rid of Dorothy. Get rid of the witch, and you will get rid of the curse.”

Eric’s face brightened, “Is that how it works?”

No.

“Absolutely,” I nodded. “So, are you willing to help?”

“Anything,” Eric breathed a sigh of relief, “I thought I would be stuck this way forever.”

Maybe.

“We wouldn’t want that,” I smiled, “Would we?”

Jake’s coughing became somewhat problematic.

“Shit! Man, are you sick?” Eric eyed his brother with distaste.

Jake’s eyes danced, “I’m feeling better all the time.”

Brad arrived with some scotch and poured a fifth for each of us.

I threw it back like it was nothing and ignored the burn as it coated my throat, leaving a warm feeling in my belly.

“That’s good stuff,” Jake gasped.

I sup3pose he should know, having spent the last several months as a bartender.

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