Charmed in Vegas: Bad Potions (2 page)

Serena put a hand to her hip and smiled, her lips full and pouty. "Well, I'm not here because I've been cursed by the Fairy Queen."

Aidan blinked. He hadn't expected the news to travel quite so fast on this side of the portals. "How did you know?"

She laughed, a scale of bright, sparkling sound. "What happened? The Aidan I knew," she paused to give him a sultry look, "was all romance in all the right ways. Remember?"

Serena sauntered over to where he stood, her hips swaying in a tight pencil skirt and her breasts jiggling in a black leather corset. Her skin sparkled as the light hit the thin, iridescent scales that covered her from head to toe. Aidan gulped and tried not to notice Serena's allure. The curse didn't give him leave to bed any woman he pleased. The queen would have his head if she found he'd been playing fast and loose the second he was out of her sight.

"That was a long time ago."

She shrugged. "Time is relative, no? Especially in Fairy." She grimaced. "They're so linear here on the human side. It's annoying. Sometimes a girl just wants to go back a few seconds and fix her make up, you know?"

"You're beautiful as ever. You're older but haven't changed."

Her eyes narrowed. "Older, huh? I see what they say about you is true. Well, I have more than aged, actually, but you would know all about that, right? I gave up my tail for you." Anger flashed in the sapphire depths of her eyes. More alarming, a sharp note in her voice threatened to cut him. Aidan shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet, ready to run if it became necessary. There were two things he remembered about Serena, her amazing figure and a temper so short, it made the queen's hounds seem tame.

"And then ditched me for a giant troll," he countered. "But hey, who's counting?"

She relaxed a fraction. "Oh, that's right. I forgot about the troll. He really was enormous. I couldn't resist." She winked at him, her anger dissipating. "No harm, no foul, right?"

"We were young," Aidan said. "Too young to know what we wanted."

"I was never the girl for you, Fyrebard. You're a one note kind of guy and I want as many as I can get." She stepped closer, until there wasn't more than a few inches between them. "Still, I don't mind hitting one note, so long as it's the right note." Her hand wrapped around him and grabbed his ass. "Tell me, Aidan, do you still 'sing' like you used to?"

Aidan twisted out of her embrace. "Uh, it's great to see you Serena, but I'm cursed, remember?"

"What's a little hanky panky between old friends?" She inched closer to him.

"Thanks but I'm afraid I can't."  He wondered if she had a death wish. The queen would just as soon come after Serena as him.

Disappointment clouded Serena's eyes. "Oh. Well." She stepped back. "If you change your mind, leave me a message at the front desk."

"You're here at the Avalon?"

"Where else would I be? At Dark Cirque with the blood suckers? Or with the furries at The Wilds?" She shook her head. "I'm headlining the show here."

"Really? I hadn't heard."

"Yeah. I sing the money right out of the humans. They gamble like crazy after my show."

"Mr. Fyrebard?" Hahm poked Aidan's arm with his pen. "If you don't mind? We have a schedule to keep. You're not here to party."

Aidan shot the dwarf a dark look. "Really? You think you own me just because I'm cursed?"

Hahm cleared his throat. "I have orders."

Aidan stooped down until they were nose-to-nose. He waited until Hahm gave a nervous gulp and then said, "You're not my queen."

"Ooo. Bravo, Aidan." Serena clapped her hands in approval.

He ignored her. "And you know what, Hahm?"

The dwarf blinked rapidly behind his glasses. "Wh-what?"

"I might be cursed, but when this is over
I
get to go back to Fairy. The queen wants
me
, Hahm. At her side. In her bed. Think about that while you're stuck here with all the humans.." He straightened. "I'll find my own room while I'm here."

"B-but—"

Aidan cut him off. "I can take care of myself." He nodded to Serena. "Nice seeing you."

She gave him a coy look. "Let me know if you want tickets to my show or...anything else. Unless, of course, you think I'm too old for you now."

Aidan just smiled and nodded, deciding it was safer to say nothing. Words always tripped him up and he didn't need another woman out for his blood. With long strides, he headed for the door that would lead to the main casino. He needed to get away before more trouble found him.

W
hat the hell was wrong with her love potion? Marion waved black smoke away from her face, muttering a string of swear words under her breath. The scent of burnt cloves stung her nose. Rose petals, flames curling their edges, littered the floor like confetti from hell. This was her fourth attempt to get this love potion right, and no matter how she varied the ingredients it still blew up in her face.

She wasn’t making a love potion so much as a love bomb—one that had little affection for a clean kitchen. At this rate, she would never obtain her potions license. Noticing the soot on the ceiling, she realized she might not get back her security deposit on the apartment either.

From the living room, her roommate said, “Oh no. Not again.”

“Yes, again,” she said with a sigh. “Sorry, Raven.”

Raven came into the kitchen and sniffed, wrinkling her nose. “Mar, you know I love you, but I’m really tired of the smoke. The first thing guys ask when they come over is if something is on fire.”

“Look, I’m really sorry.” Marion frowned down at her potion pot, which appeared to have a hole in the bottom. Damn. This was the first time she’d used it too.

“I know, but ‘sorry’ doesn’t get rid of the smell. It’s gotten to where I avoid werewolves and you know how much I like furry men.” Marion’s roommate paused, a faraway look in her eyes, and then gave herself a little shake. “Anyway, I think it might be time to confine your efforts to the lab at the university.”

Marion sighed again and threw her potion pot into the garbage. Another three-hundred-dollar pot ruined. She was going to have to review her budget again and find the money for another one. But no more non-stick potion pots. They were too expensive. She’d have to make do with the cheaper ones.

“You’re right,” she said with a glum look at Raven. “I’ll do this at school from now on.” It would mean late nights on campus, but it would save her the clean-up in the kitchen. The university labs had wards in place to contain any magic accidents. Potions or spells gone bad simply disappeared as if they’d never existed, but the incident reports students had to fill out provided documentation enough. Documentation Marion had hoped to avoid since too many incident reports could lower her grade. She was barely passing Potions as it was.

“Have you considered that maybe your problem isn’t the potion, but you?” Raven opened the kitchen window, shooing the air out with her hands.

“What do you mean?” Marion grabbed the broom and swept the rose buds into a pile. The roses had turned to ash and smeared black across the white linoleum. Great. She’d have to mop, too.

“I mean, maybe a love potion requires some, you know, action?”

She stiffened. “I’m not you.” Her roommate was the social butterfly while Marion worked hard to be the beige wallflower. She liked solid walls at her back; it meant no one could sneak up behind her. She'd come to Vegas to blend in and hide behind the wards that protected the city from dark magic. In time, she would learn the magic herself and then no one would be able to touch her again.

But first, she had to stop blowing up love potions.

“You don’t have to be. Frankly, I don’t want the competition. But since you are human, I know deep down, underneath that scholarly facade is a passionate woman just waiting for the right man.” Raven paused and gave Marion the once-over. “Look at you. Your hair is singed. You’re wearing sweatpants and your shirt is more gray than white. You’re not even making an effort.”

“You know I wear old clothes for potions.” Marion plucked at the frayed hem of her shirt, trying to tuck it under and out of sight.

“And to the grocery store and your classes. Homeless trolls dress better.”

Marion steeled herself against the truth of Raven’s statement. She owed no one an explanation. Besides, Raven, with her easy confidence and quick charm, wouldn’t understand. “I’m going to go take a shower and get cleaned up. Maybe I’ll even meet your standards when I’m done.” She swept past her roommate to the bathroom and slammed the door.

“I’m just trying to help,” Raven yelled after her.

Marion turned the water on full force drowning out her roommate’s voice and dropped her clothes on the floor. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and shook her head. Raven was right. Her hair
was
singed. What she hadn’t mentioned was that it also looked like birds had been trying to construct a nest in it. She took a moment to brush it out before stepping into the shower knowing if she didn’t get the worst of the tangles out now, it would hurt like hell later.

Her blonde hair smooth, Marion set the brush down on the vanity, and caught sight of the scars on her wrist. Two years had passed since the doctors had pinned it back together and she hadn’t been on a date since. It still didn’t feel safe. Which was why she needed to pass her potions class, so she could start the magical defense courses. They were the only thing that could protect her.

***

M
arion was in her room trying to find some clothes to wear when Raven barged in without warning. “Hey, I’m going out tonight. Do you want to come?”

Marion clutched her bath towel tight around her. "Ever hear of knocking?"

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you were getting dressed."

"You think I shower fully clothed or something?" She loved her roommate, she really did, but sometimes Raven drove her nuts. She had a habit of doing things without thinking, like flinging open the door to Marion's room unannounced. Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t know if I’m up for a night out.”

“Your favorite DJ is on tonight.”

“Pixie Cool?” She loved Fairy Techno and PC was the best.

“Yep. It’ll be fun. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet a guy.”

“I don’t want to meet a guy.”

“You can’t be celibate forever.”

Marion flushed. “I think you’re oversexed.”

Raven laughed. ”You say that like it’s a bad thing. Oh come on, Mar. Come dancing with me. It’ll be fun. We haven’t been out in forever.”

Marion sighed and weighed her options: Spend an evening alone at home trying to figure out where she kept going wrong with the love potion, or go blow off some steam on the dance floor? Considering she didn’t have another potion pot, it really wasn’t much of a choice. “Okay, I’ll go.”

Raven squealed in excitement. “Cool! I’m going to get dressed. We leave in an hour.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She saluted her roommate, but Raven had already left.

Raven’s radio blared dance music through the apartment, shaking the walls with an infectious rhythm. Marion winced, hoping the neighbors wouldn’t complain, and then shook off her worries with a shimmy of her hips. Humming under her breath, she went through her closet looking for something too-big to wear.

V
egas was going to be a nightmare. He could feel it in his bones. Aidan scanned the dance floor at Magique, the Avalon Casinos' nightclub, trying to keep a pleasant smile on his face. It was an effort, as he’d never been more angry. His anger had started as a slow burn that got hotter and hotter as he realized he was hopelessly trapped in Vegas.

He'd wandered up and down the Vegas Strip, taking in the barren heat, the tourists in their T-shirts and practical shoes, the cheap lights and even cheaper food, wondering how he would break the curse. The women were either too old or too pretty to satisfy the terms of the curse. Vegas held only extremes with nothing in between.

Staring into his mead, he wondered how much he would have to drink until he went numb. Sure, he'd screwed up, but the punishment seemed excessive. He was one of the Queen's guard, not some elf from the backwater of Fairy. He'd taken oaths and honored them, but that hadn't counted for anything in the end, had it?

Draining his glass, he waved at the bartender for another. With a sigh, he reminded himself anger was the not the solution. If he gave into his rage, the Queen would never let him back into Fairy. The terms of her curse had been clear: Until he pleased a woman less than perfect, the gates of Fairy were closed to him.

Aidan looked over the club for what felt like the hundredth time, assessing the pickings, and sighed. There wasn't a single diamond in the rough to be found.

One of the fairy go-go dancers fluttered her indigo blue wings at him and made eye contact. A blue halter top matched her wings and showed off her full breasts while tiny shorts barely covered her round ass. Her red hair flowed down her back and a sheen of bioluminescence humans would probably mistake for make-up made her skin appear silver. Under other circumstances, he might be interested, but she was too pretty for the curse. He waved her away.

McAllister materialized next to him with a poof. Somehow his magic let him move through time and space outside of the portals. It was a rare talent, one that made him the Queen's favorite errand boy. Everyone else had to rely on fixed portal points or pay for expensive portal charms.

"Hello, McAllister." Aidan blinked as he took in the pixie's outfit. Bone white and skin tight it opened in a V down to his navel, showing off his pink chest hair, not to mention the rolls of a few extra pounds, and then flowed over his hips to flare into a wide hem at his ankles. Jewels and sequins dotted the lapel like star vomit. Given his diminutive size, he looked like a child's doll gone horribly wrong. "What are you wearing? Is that—"

McAllister preened. "A white Elvis jump suit circa the seventies." He executed a spin on the bar top, ending the move with an alarming shimmy of his hips as his wings fluttered in time with the club's music.