The Witching Hours: A collection of short stories by Victoria Danann
We hope that you’ve enjoyed this month full of great deals on paranormal romance books and chances at fabulous prizes. We were fortunate to work with many great authors, including NYT Bestselling Author, Victoria Danann. Today we have an excerpt from The Witching Hours: a collection of short stories that’s sure to heighten the mood this Halloween. ON SALE NOW for a limited time!
“Let me ask you this. If you were naming yourself, what would your name
be?”
He paused for a minute and seemed to be giving it sincere consideration.
“Raivamitchra.”
“Excellent. Let’s pretend that’s your name. I’ll call you Mitch.”
“Mitch? Why would you do that?”
“Truncating is the modern way. We’re lazy. Go with it.” I glanced at the vase.
“How long have you been in there? And if you don’t even know the modern
calendar, how do you speak American English so well? And why did you take the
form of somebody I saw this morning? What do you really look like?” I could hear
Paddy barking. The neighbors would be gathering torches and pitchforks any
minute. “And why does my dog dislike you so earnestly?
His smile was so disarming it made me weak in the knees. Poets would call it
transcendent beauty. I made a mental note to be impervious to the attraction.
“A long time, by any standard. All jin are able to adapt to the speech of the
masters we serve. I took the form of someone who piqued your interest. I resemble
what I must. In this case, a desire. As to your warrior dog, he objects to my
novelty.”
Wait. Warrior dog?
Mitch’s answers were smooth. Too smooth. “Why did you call Paddy a warrior
dog?”
“He is declaring his intention to fight for you.” Mitch cocked his head toward
the backyard. “He would die for you if it became necessary.”
Aw. Really?
“Okay. That aside. I think the best way to manage this, ah, interaction, which
may very well be a dream for all I know, is for you to go back in this vase and I’ll
take it back to the store where I found it.”
Again, he laughed out loud. It was a pleasant sound, but I either heard or
imagined threatening undertones.
“I can see you’re an uncommonly clever woman,” he said, “Not to be trifled
with.”
“Your flattery lacks subtlety. Come on.” I clapped my hands like a second-
grade schoolteacher. “Back in the vase.”
His responding smile wasn’t quite so friendly. “I cannot comply.”
“Cannot or will not?”
“Cannot?”
“Why?”
“I have few options. My nature is its own prison. You might say I’m
compelled to perform a service and, once done, I’ll be returned to a state of
waiting.”
“Until the next person rubs the vase in a certain way.”
“Precisely.”
“That’s… tragic.”
He shrugged. “From a certain point of view.”
“From every point of view.”
“As you wish. Do you want your dog to be quiet?”
“Yes. WAIT! Verbally expressing something I want doesn’t qualify as a wish.”
He grinned. “Agreed. Your wishes will not count as wishes unless you name
them such specifically.”
“Okay. This agreement is not a wish. It’s a conversation.”
He chuckled. “The dog?”
“You’re going to get Paddy to be quiet? You’re not going to hurt him or alter
him or make me sorry I accepted your help?”
“You drive a hard bargain. I agree to your terms.”
“What’s my recourse if you don’t abide by your agreements?”
The smile with the more wicked edge to it returned. “Interesting question. I
guess the answer is sort of.”
“No. The answer can’t be sort of.”
“Why? That’s what you say when you don’t know.”
“So, the answer is that you don’t know. There’s no prescribed consequence if
you breech a verbal contract with me?”
“I don’t know because I’ve never tested it. Would you like me to? It sounds
amusing.”
“No. It does not sound the slightest amusing.”
He shrugged. “Whatever you say. Allow the dog access to the premises.”
I stepped into my little laundry room, opened the hatch that covered the dog
door, and predictably, Paddy came flying in. He rushed past me as if I wasn’t there.
By the time I turned around and stepped back into the kitchen, Paddy was
happily gobbling chicken bits from Mitch’s hand.
Blessed silence. No one was hurt.
“Thank you,” I said.
“You’re welcome.”
Mitch’s starburst smile returned. The one that might make a lesser woman
lose her breath and her wits.
“Do you mind if I have some refreshment while I await your decisions?”
“How long are you going to be here?”
“As long as it takes.”
“As long as it takes to what?”
“Hear and grant your wishes.”
“For discussion’s sake, how many wishes are we talking?”
“How many do you want?”
“Are you saying I could wish for more wishes?”
He shrugged. “No one has ever done that. Want to see what happens?”
“No.”
“Okay. I might as well be comfortable. Don’t you agree?”
With a snap of his fingers, my kitchen island was laden with fresh fruits,
sweet meats, cheeses, tiny cakes, breads and pitchers of I don’t know what. Just
the kind of thing you’d expect to see in an ancient Arabian palace. Normally the
sight of that would make Paddy go insane, but he sat obediently next to Mitch
looking like a dog trained by Cesar Milan.
“How are you making Paddy behave like this?”
Mitch looked down at Paddy. “He and I have an understanding.”
I squinted my eyes. “Does he still have free will?”
“Are you asking if he could misbehave if he wanted to?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
“He could. But he doesn’t want to.”
“Why? He always wants to misbehave.”
Mitch finished eating a small cake as he was pouring red liquid from one of
the pitchers into one of my grandmother’s crystal glasses. “No. He doesn’t. He’s
just often unsure what you really want from him.”
“Oh.” I felt bad. I was confusing my poor dog. “Look. We’re at an impasse. I
don’t want to do the wish thing. It never ends well. And you can’t just decide to live
here until I change my mind because I’m not going to change my mind. So. finish
your, um, repast, or whatever you call it, and get back in the bottle. Okay?”
He sighed. “My answer can’t change just because you say something louder.”
The frenzy I was feeling was expressing itself in an increase in my volume.
I’d give him that. I shouldn’t be raising my voice no matter how farfetched and
bizarre the situation.
“Fine. I’m taking the vase back where I found it. My guess is that you’ll have
to go where it goes.”
He smiled while chewing on a piece of cheese that looked really, really good.
I ignored both him and the craving, picked up the vase and my keys. Paddy didn’t
run in circles as he usually did when I suggested a ride. He just flopped on the floor.
“Come on, Pad. We’re going for a ride!” Nothing.
I finally had the get the leash, pull him to the car, and lift his fat ass up to
the cargo area.
Panting, I said, “Pad. You gotta lay off the treats.”
I’d set the vase in the passenger side floorboard. Of course, it fell over the
first time I made a left turn. Then it righted itself when I made a right turn.
I don’t know how I could’ve forgotten that I had no chance of getting close to
the Arts Festival. Unless it was because I had the best excuse in the history of
excuses. There was a jin in my house trying to trick me into making my life worse.
I pulled over. What to do?
Then I realized I didn’t have to take the vase back to where I got it. I could
leave it anywhere.
I did a quick u turn and pulled into the Magick Cauldron parking lot.
“I’ll be right back.” I told Paddy.
I marched straight to the cashier who was stationed roughly in the middle of
the store.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” she responded with caution while eyeing the vase in my arms. “I’m
donating this vase.”
“We don’t take donations.”
“This vase is special. It has a genie. A real one. Imagine how much you could
get for a prize like that? And I’m giving it to you. For free!”
“Uh. Sure,” the girl said. “We still don’t take donations.”
After more back and forth, it became clear she wasn’t going to budge, but we
were attracting attention. I turned to the customers who seemed interested in the
exchange and held up the vase. “You want it? It’s yours! Wishes at your command.”
I lowered my voice. “And the genie is hot, too.”
They backed away from me like insanity was contagious. Finally, I realized it
was because the vase wasn’t polished. No one would believe something good could
be inside something that looked awful. I needed to go back home and finish the
job. It’s a lot easier to rehome something beautiful.
No need to look around for Mitch. I could hear the TV on in the living room. I
didn’t show him anything about the TV and he couldn’t know anything about
modern technology. That meant he was more than a pretty face. He was
resourceful as well.
I placed the vase back in the sink wishing there was still some of that yummy
looking cheese left on the magic banquet board. I absolutely did not want it badly
enough to wish for it.
Paddy had run straight to the living room looking for his new best friend.
When I arrived in the room, he was sitting politely next to Mitch looking for all the
world like he was Mitch’s dog. Traitor.
“I see you brought the vase back.” Somehow, he managed to make this
observation without looking away from the show he was watching. There might’ve
been a hint of satisfaction in his voice.
I think a part of me had thought he’d be gone when I returned. Like
Scrooge’s bad bit of potato. But alas, no such luck.
What does one do with a genie watching TV in her living room? One who
refuses to either leave or get back in his hidey hole. 911 is not an option unless I
wanted to be the one taken away in an unmarked white van.
“Yes,” I answered.
Nodding, he said, “It’s hard to get rid of,” and almost sounded sympathetic.
“Look at this!” He used the remote to point to the TV. I looked at the images on my
flat screen television. It was big, good quality, and had been a splurge, but was
worth every cent. He was watching a show about glam safari travel. “It’s
remarkable. No wonder you’re content with your life. The world is at your fingertips.
“These lady lions were being attacked by hyenas. Then the big male comes
running in and takes over. He was picking those hyenas up and throwing them with
one paw.” He laughed. “I actually saw that!
“Turning to me,” he said. “You should come watch. You might get some ideas
about what you’d wish for.”
“Not new to TV, Mitch. So, make yourself at home.” I didn’t really expect him
to pick up on my sarcasm, so I wasn’t disappointed. “I’m going to polish the vase.”
He looked over his shoulder at me. “I can make it shine like the sun.
Instantly. Is that your wish?”
“No.”
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