Bigfoots Don't Do Mini Coopers (Kate Storm Book 1) (14 page)

I pulled my wand out of my back pocket. It shook again under the force of my spell. “
Damn it. That miserable little cretin is trying to get into my apartment again.”

M
organ leaned forward over the table. “What cretin and why is it trying to break into your apartment?”

Wow. This was weird. Usually, Morgan and I knew every tiny detail of each other
’s lives. I wasn’t used to having to explain anything.

“
The cretin is a human male. A xenologist to be exact. And he’s trying to break into my house because he knows Bigfoot is sleeping on my pull out.”

Morgan
’s jaw dropped. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her caught off-guard until this very moment.

“
Bigfoot?” She whispered the question then glanced left and right as if the gargoyles, troll or dwarves might be eavesdropping. “You have Bigfoot sleeping on your pull-out? I thought Bigfoot was a myth.”

Totally and utterly destroying everyone
’s faith in that belief.

“
Turns out, not so much.” I shrugged. “Large, very hairy and  susceptible to injury.”

“
Can I come over and see it?” Morgan almost bounced in her seat like a kid at Christmas.

“
It’s a she.” You’d think in the nearly three years we’ve known each other, I would have seen Morgan excited. However, after over fifteen hundred years of roaming the earth, it takes quite a lot to get around the whole
been there, done that, seen that like a million times
thing.

“
How do you know it’s a she? Can she talk?” Morgan’s eyes were the size of emerald lakes.

“
She hasn’t spoken yet, but she knows English. And she flirted with Big Al.” I propped my fist under my chin, enchanted at this new side of my UDBF.

“
Ah.” Morgan nodded. “Big Al can certainly lay on the charm when he wants.” She clapped her hands. “Let’s go. I can’t wait to see,” she glared around the bar and lowered her voice, “
her
.”

My wand vibrated again. “
Okay, but I’ll need to cast a quick spell when we get to my apartment first, so no racing.” Morgan beats my broom every time.

She glanced at my wand. “
Do you want me to take care of the cretin?” She slid her tongue slowly over one fang, letting go with a small sucking sound.

“
No.” I shook my head. I didn’t need any more complications in my life right now. “I don’t want to kill the guy. I’ll just spell him to go home.” I grinned. “And maybe watch Lawrence Welk reruns.”

Morgan laughed. She punched me lightly on the shoulder. “
I do love the way your mind works.”

We headed out of
Got Fangs?
I grabbed my broom from behind the bar and off we went. Morgan’s eyes gleaming and my shoulder aching ever so slightly. UDBFs are really strong.

****

If I had to do it all over again, I’m not so certain I’d bring Bigfoot home. I’m not saying I wouldn’t have tried the best healing spell I could think of - I’m just saying I would consider leaving Bigfoot to heal on her own.

Which probably makes me a bad witch. Right at this moment I was okay with that, because walking into my very own living room and finding Big Al
and Bigfoot spooning on
my
pull-out, irritated every single nerve in my body.

I know it doesn
’t make sense. He’s a Chihuahua, I’m a witch. He might have designs on me, but it would never work. Logically I understood all of this. Truly I did.

On the other
hand, Big Al has been my constant companion for  two years. As in twenty-four seven for the most part. He’s spent the majority of that time hitting on me. Again, in his hit-man mind, he is still human despite his current canine body.

I
’ve come to feel special with Al. Not just special, but vital. His link to his human soul as well as the witch he would like to date. Being vital is not something I could ever take lightly.

But right now I could easily strangle the little mutt.

“Big Al really likes her, doesn’t he?”

I might even consider a little take down action on my UDBF.

Al lifted his tiny head, yawned widely. “Hey Morgan. How are you?” The little shit didn’t even act the least bit discomforted. It clearly didn’t upset
him
to be caught snuggling with some other creature.

Sweet Spirits, I was losing it.

I stomped down my hall. Behind me I could hear Morgan and Al continuing on with their conversation.

“
So this is Bigfoot. And it’s a girl?” I heard rustling on the pull-out. “Yep, definitely a girl.” I refused to turn around. I didn’t want to know who was cuddling who. DID NOT want to know. My jaw began to ache. I told myself to stop gritting my teeth.

“
Have you gotten her to talk? Kate said she understands English.”

I closed the
door to bathroom, shutting out Al’s response. I needed a moment. Maybe more than one.

I knew my jealousy was unreasonable. It didn
’t make a bit of difference. Jealousy usually is unreasonable. That’s why it’s called jealousy. A large green eyed monster with claws that dug deep named Jealousy fit perfectly. Can you imagine if we called it Frank?

Bigfoot was on the mend. The quick spell I
’d cast when we’d walked in the door assured me of that. I might be able to get rid of . . . Ah, release back into the wild the poor mythological creature I’d run over.

Sigh. My metal wanderings were not going to help. I had to . . .

What was that smell?

I may not be the best housekeeper, but I
’ve never let anything get to the point of that horrendous stink.

Maybe Bigfoot had
gotten up and used my toilet. I’m sure she didn’t know how to flush and Al couldn’t reach the handle to help her.

I checked the toilet, but it was clean. Sniffing around I finally realized the smell was coming from behind my shower curtain.

No way. No way . . . Yep, indeedy. Bigfoot had decided to use my bathtub as her toilet.

I grabbed a plastic trash bag, a roll of paper towels, my elbow length rubber gloves and the gallon of bleach. I had too much on my mind to even attempt a clean up spell.

I gagged non-stop for the next twenty minutes. And I couldn’t help but wonder of this was some sort of new metaphor for my life.

****

My nose still burned from the bleach as I headed back into my apartment. I was confident the xenologist wouldn’t even consider the, uh, stuff in the trash bag as gross evidence of Bigfoot’s existence. I wasn’t even sure if you could run tests on that stuff to prove or disprove anything. And, quite frankly, I didn’t want to know either.

I just felt like being extremely pe
tty. And the idea of Claud Potier lifting his garbage lid and getting a whiff of that smell totally lifted my spirits.

I came to a dead halt two feet into my living room.

Morgan and Bigfoot were sitting inches away from each other. Morgan had her mouth wide open displaying her gleaming white fangs. As I watched, Morgan closed her mouth and Bigfoot opened hers just as wide. Sharp, pointy fangs lined the front of her mouth, tapering to shorter, broader teeth towards the back. Bigfoot was an omnivore.

I opened
my own mouth then shook my head and continued on towards the kitchen. I didn’t know what to say and had nothing to bring to this HC and mythological version of show and tell.

Lovely. Bigfoot was charming Morgan too. What could Al and Morgan possibly see i
n that big, smelly pile of fur?

“
Hey Doll, you okay? You haven’t said anything since you got home?” Al sat in the middle of my kitchen table. I always left one chair pulled out so he could jump up and we could converse at nearly the same level. Plus we ate our meals together at the table.

Al cocked his little head and considered me. A deep snarl vibrated in his chest. “
Has Ass done anything to you?”

Not since accidentally setting me on fire, finding help to heal me and then leaving me with a maelstrom of mi
xed emotions . . . that had just gotten worse since arriving at my apartment.

Enough already. Time to reel my life back in.

“No, Al, I’m fine.” Maybe fine wasn’t the correct description, or even remotely close to how I truly felt, but I needed some sort of semblance of normalcy. And I’d lie like a banshee if that’s what it took right now.

“
Bigfoot seems to be feeling better.” Two could play at this game.

“
Yeah, she’s doing great.” Was it my imagination or did his voice drop even lower on that last word? Al blinked his bulging brown eyes at me. The shit.

I still hadn
’t decided on attempting more nonchalance or squirting him with a water bottle when Morgan strolled into the room.

“
What do you have for hair products?”

That one threw me a bit.

“Umm, shampoo, heavy duty conditioner, leave-in conditioner, hair lotion, hair cream, anti-frizz spray and serum,” not that they ever worked, “a few hair masques, detangling spray, some curl defining sprays and cremes, gels and custards.” I ran through the contents of my bathroom cabinet through my head. “I might be missing a few items, but that’s mostly it.” I eyed her perfectly curled, soft and gleaming locks. “Why?”

Morgan arched one elegant brow. “
You actually use all of that?”

I could understand her suspicion given the
usual state of my hair. It does not mean that I don’t at least try every single day. Curly hair is a constant battle.

I crossed my arms and considered giving her the stink eye. I
’m sure she woke every morning and simply brushed her hair. I’d tried that once. I’d had to cut the damn brush out of my curls after it had gotten entrenched in a particularly nasty snarl and days later I’d found a couple of bristles still lost and trapped in the depths of my curls.

Lots of hair products are one of life
’s necessities for me.

I gave up on the thought of glaring at her. Morgan can
’t help that she is perfect.

“
Some more than others,” I sighed. Trial and error. My cupboard suffered right along with me in my search for the one - or five - products that actually worked.

“
Well, something has to work. Do you have a tub we can use?”

“
For what exactly?” Morgan’s hair was divine and I only gave Al a bath when the hit-man had channeled away and the Chihuahua was in charge. The Chihuahua hated bath time, but at least he couldn’t argue with me.

“
Harley needs a makeover.”

“
Harley?”

“
Well, we can’t very well call her Harry. That’s rude. And with all those muscles she is a bit of a badass so . . . Harley.”

“
I like it.” Al nodded.

“
Harley?” It squeaked out this time. Why did Bigfoot have to have a name?

“
It does suit her, doesn’t it?” Morgan grinned at Al, quite pleased with herself.

“
Yeah.” Al made an odd almost purring sound. “I like it.” Damn him.

“
Harley?”

Bigfoot growled in response to my shout.

Morgan and Al both frowned at me. Drat them. They wanted to use
my
hair products on
her.
And now they were naming her? What was my life coming to?

“
She looks terrible Kate. And she smells. A makeover would do her so much good and probably help her heal faster.”

Aarrghhh. I so wa
nted to scream. Really, really loudly.

A makeover would get rid of the smell and then I could close my windows. Plus it more than likely would help her heal faster. And the only reason . . . Harley was here in the first place was because I
’d run her over. I just couldn’t get past that.

Damn it.

I marched over to my kitchen sink, flung open the cupboard and snatched up the large tub I kept underneath for Big Al’s baths.

“
I didn’t know you had one of those.” Big Al prided himself on knowing all the little details of my life.

I was tempted to tell him just what I used it for, but even now I couldn
’t hurt his feelings. Double damn.

Morgan cocked her head, brows drawn slightly together as she considered me. “
How about a nail file and some polish? She needs a mani-pedi too.” 

Oh no. Not my polish too. The hair supplies were bad enough, but to invade and use all of my stuff? No way.

Bigfoot took that precise moment to let out a mournful wail.