Witchin’ Stix: Magic and Mayhem Universe

Chapter One

“What’s the meaning of this? What are you trying to do? What are you up to?”

The screech that escaped my throat was enough to wake the dead. “What’s wrong with you, woman? Don’t you know better than to poof in on unsuspecting witches?”

“No. But if you wouldn’t listen to that racket at such an alarming volume…”

“Of course you don’t. Why are you here? And my music isn’t racket and the volume isn’t alarming.” Why did everyone always say hard rock was racket? It was very poetic in a lot of ways if people would only give it more of a chance.

“You should be nicer to me. Have you had your espresso yet?”

“You don’t care if anyone is ever nice to you. And how do you know I drink espresso?”

“Everyone knows,” she said offhandedly. “Everyone knows that’s the key to your perkiness.”

She had a point. I did run on espresso. I sometimes wondered if I cut myself would I bleed it instead of blood. I didn’t want to find out. Pain was not my thing. “Why are you here?” I asked again. “I’m busy.” Not really. I just hadn’t had caffeine yet and was not fit for company. Especially of the Baba Yaga variety.

A handful of my famous Witchin’ Stix landed in a pile on the counter in front of me. “Explain this, please.”

“Explain what? It’s candy. You flip the top off and pour the powder in your mouth or sprinkle it on ice cream.”

Baba Yaga sighed. “I know it’s candy and I know how to eat it, even though I don’t. But I know how. It’s sour. Fabio doesn’t like sour candy and that’s not what I ordered from you. He likes sweet candy. He likes—”

“Well, that kind of rules your candy out doesn’t it?”

“I am not in the mood.”

Shrugging, I picked through the wrappers on the counter. “Makes two of us. I don’t make sour Stix, B.Y.”

“Don’t call me that. I have a name. Use it.”

“You’re pretty testy today. Maybe you need some coffee.”

“I have a busy schedule and I’m going to be late for my new tutu yoga class if you don’t hurry up.”

“And do what?”

“Replace the wrong order with the correct one.”

“Witchin’ Stix are not sour. They’re always sweet. They’re always matched perfectly to the one who opens them.”

“They’re sour.”

There was only one way to settle the argument. With a swipe of my finger through the powdered candy that had slid from the opened wrappers, I dabbed a bit on my tongue. “Ick!”

“There.” Her voice was triumphant. “That’s the face Fabio made when he opened them. Every single one is sour.”

Water. I needed water. I took a healthy swig to wash the remnants away. “I don’t understand.” I ripped the top off a freshly made just an hour ago stick of candy and poured the powder in the palm of my hand.

I sniffed it and it smelled like sweet orange with a hint of cinnamon. My favorite.

The taste, though, was not. It was sour. Not even as a prelude to sweet. Just…

I shivered as it seeped into my taste buds. “This makes no sense.” And when the pounding on the door started moments later, I still had no answers. Every bit of candy I’d made earlier in the day was wrong. This had never happened before.

“I’m coming,” I yelled, hoping it was loud enough to be heard over the racket coming from the front of the house.

My familiar, Larry the Cat met me at the door and wound around my ankles as I opened it before whoever was on the other side broke it down. The most gorgeous man I’d ever seen stood on the other side. Dark skin. Dark eyes. Impeccably dressed in black from head to toe. Devastating smile. “Kandace?”

“Nope.” I slammed the door and with a flick of my wrist, threw the lock, just to be on the safe side.

“Who was that?”

“A demon, B.Y.”

“A demon? Why would a demon be at your door? And how many times do I have to tell you that my name is not B.Y.?”

“I know what your name is and I don’t know why a demon is at my door. I don’t know why the candy is sour. I don’t know. I don’t know. I. Don’t. Know.” I had never yelled at Baba Yaga. I rarely yelled at anyone at all. Ever. But boy howdy, it felt good.

“Kandace?”

I spun so fast my head spun and I lost my balance. I tipped over and straight into the demon’s arms. His strong, muscled, very secure arms. “H-how did you get in?” I questioned, bemused and bewildered and slightly out of breath.

He only smiled and set me to rights on my feet again. I didn’t like that one little bit. I’d rather his arms be around me. Me, who had never… And never… Nope, not that either. “Nothing can keep me out,” he replied.

A grumble and a jerk of my thumb in Baba Yaga’s direction indicated otherwise, but to confirm… “She can.”

“No, I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Color me shocked. “I thought being the most powerful witch you could do anything. Especially when it comes to keeping the bad and the riff raff out.”

“I’m not riff raff,” Demon Man said. “I’m not bad, either. Unless…”

“Nope. There is no unless. You’re a demon. And bad kind of goes with the territory.”

“I can’t keep them out without a spell and even then, it would have to be a pretty…” B.Y. shook her head. “That doesn’t matter. What does is why you’re in a witch’s house uninvited,” she said to the demon, her arms crossed over her chest, looking for all the world like a really out of place 80’s fashion disaster.

“I need some new Witchin’ Stix.”

My eyes widened and I focused on him. “Witchin’ Stix? How did you get any?”

“I have a… source.”

“A source?” I let myself get carried away for a few seconds, imagining my treats being distributed in all corners of Hades, bringing pleasure to all the dark and grumpy demons and devils and evil creatures of the underworld. This made me somewhat happy and I didn’t want to examine why that might be. “Do you mean… Oh. Is my candy sold on the black market?” This was nothing to be excited about. I was a good witch. I didn’t associate with anything illegal, nefarious, or evil. And that included any and all demons. Especially the one currently standing in my kitchen.

At the same time…

“No, dear witch. It just happens to be my favorite.”

Damnation. He was smooth as butter. “Oh, that’s so sweet. Thank you.”

Behind me, B.Y. groaned. “Can we get back to the issue at hand? Sour. Witchin’ Stix.” She tapped her perfectly manicured, neon orange nails on my counter. “I need some sweet ones.”

“You had sour ones, too?” Demon Man asked Baba Yaga. He appeared as perplexed as I was. What I’d tasted hadn’t even come close to tart. No, it was out and out sour. There was no sweet then sour. Or sweet then tart. It was sour from start to finish.

“Not me.”

Their voices faded as my confusion won out. A demon in my house. Baba Yaga, too. Multiple batches of sour candy. This was not what I signed up for when I woke up this morning. I had plans. I had a meeting with my sisters in less than an hour.

“Okay. You two need to go. I have things to do today.”

“What are you going to do about Fabio’s candy?”

Just let it go, K… “Nothing right now. I don’t know what happened or what is happening. Maybe it’s something to do with my magic, a change in the seasons, or the current climate crisis. Maybe I’m just tired and need to start my day over again. You know, with positive intention. But either way, that requires the two of you to leave and me to go back to bed.”

“I think I should stay and help you figure things out.”

“I don’t think you should. That would be bad.”

“Yes,” Baba Yaga added. “That would be bad. Time to go.”

Well, she agreed way too quickly. And as I stood by, she squinted her eyes and tilted her head to the side, but Demon Man shook his head and didn’t budge. What was going on between them?

The clock on the wall chimed and I bit back and annoyed grunt. I had only fifteen minutes before my sisters arrived and I really didn’t want to have to explain a demon and Baba Yaga and sour candy to them. Not yet, at least. I wanted some cookies and cakes and yummy caramel apple ciders with mounds of whipped cream and dusting of cinnamon. If my two unwanted guests didn’t leave, I was not going to get what I wanted.

But before I could plead again, Demon Man smiled in my direction and blew me a kiss. “Until next time, sweet witch.”

“I have to go, too. I’ll be back later, but maybe don’t use your magic while I’m gone.”

Purple and black smoke mingled together as they vanished into thin air. Great! My elation was short lived, however, as I pondered the demon’s parting words… What did he mean, until next time?

I snapped my fingers and the dust from the Witchin’ Stix swept itself up and into the trash. There. My sisters wouldn’t know anything at all was amiss and I would have a little more time to figure out what the heck was going on.