Final Cut Miami Voodoo You Love? (8 page)

“How many years has it been, Antonio? Nine?”

“Ten years, Tia Nicola.”

She turned a card and put it into play, biding her time. She glanced up at her son, and then over at Antonio. “He’s still angry with you.”

“It’s understandable. I hurt his pride and marked him.”

She huffed out a disgusted little noise. “You hurt his libido, that’s all. I don’t think he ever really loved you at all.” She turned another card. “And his looks were only a tool to hurt others. You simply took away a weapon.” Her voice was waspish, and Antonio sensed the rising anger in the other man, but he kept his self-control. The fiery, arrogant Ramon of the past had learned to temper his heat. If he had continued on the path he’d taken, Ramon Vega might be a very dangerous man.

Once again, a few tangled threads of the mystery began to resolve. He looked openly at Ramon, who met his gaze calmly. He nodded in the direction of the bar and Antonio turned, seeing a tall, slender vampire doing his best to mesmerize Coco. To his amusement, her elbow smacked into a glass of beer, splashing it on his clothing. The vampire left in disgust.

“It is difficult to hypnotize the village idiot.” His accent was thick and unschooled. Ramon grinned at Antonio, who ruthlessly pushed down an angry growl. Instead he turned back to the old witch.

“I’m actually looking for information about Coco. I believe someone put a hex on her.”

“Really?” Tia Nicola lifted an elegant brow and turned another card. “Because if someone in this area had done it…” she glanced at Ramon, “…I would have known.” She abruptly scooped her cards into a stack. “Bring her over. Her hair’s a mess. I’ve wanted to fix it for weeks now.”

Antonio turned, intending to gesture her over. Thinking twice, he returned to the bar and took her by the hand. Thankfully, she’d managed to remain fairly intact.

“Did you spill his beer on purpose?” She grinned and nodded. “Good girl.” He kissed her again. “The lady back there… Have you seen her around?”

“Yeah.” She wasn’t smiling anymore. “Voodoo lady.”

“That’s right. I know her and her son, who’s sitting in the booth nearby. They were in my neighborhood.”

“You told me… Macumba.” She gripped his hand a little harder.

“Yes, my family never believed she was evil, but were still afraid of Tia Nicola. I don’t trust her son Ramon. I know him a little too well. We used to spend a lot of time together as kids.”

“Spend time?” She nudged him, and he flushed. “No, there was no sex, though that’s what ended our friendship. I didn’t reciprocate his… desire.”

“Not love?” She pulled him to a stop. She frowned as she focused on her words. “You grew up together; maybe he had deep feelings.”

“Not Ramon. He had a dark streak as a kid. He didn’t hesitate to try and force the issue with me. At that time, he didn’t know what I was.”

“But he does now.” She smiled wickedly.

Yes, Ramon had tried to force Antonio, shoving him over the side of a car and ripping off his ragged jeans. That day he’d learned there were more frightening things in the world than his mother’s charms and spells.

“They involved in this?”

“I don’t know, kitten. But if we’re lucky, they’ll point us in the right direction. Tia Nicola never works for free, even for friends and family. And I think this is Ramon’s forte. So we’ll see.” He tugged her hand, leading Coco to the table in the back. In place of the cards, an array of scissors and combs lay on the table. A satchel sat open on the floor. He’d have suspected more nefarious contents, but it contained spray bottles and a rolled up cape that she whipped out and spread open.

“Sit down, Coco.” Nicola waited behind a chair while Antonio gaped in surprise. “What? I had to have a marketable skill to come here. I went to beauty school.” She pushed Coco into the chair and tied the cape behind her neck. “I visit people’s homes… the sick and the old. That way I don’t have to pay booth rent and taxes.” She picked up a comb with a long, pointy tail and began working at a mat. She made a clucking sound. “What have you done to your hair, child?”

Her accent was soothing and reminded Antonio of home. His parents still lived in Rio, but in a nicer neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. They had only a short walk to find space to shift and run. When they were finished in Miami, he’d call them, maybe take Coco to visit. He smiled at how easily she’d integrated into his life. Just days before, the future held only himself and his job. Now he had a mate. His job complemented hers, and his body told him without question that children were a possibility.

“Look at him looking at you. I never expected to see Antonio so in love with anyone but himself.”

“Not with a girl, anyway.”

He didn’t even bother to look in Ramon’s direction, instead taking a seat where he could watch Nicola working on Coco. She frowned, working on the spot he’d started earlier. Could it possibly be the same day?

“Such a tangle. Someone was very angry at you, young lady.” Her hands worked swiftly, but gently. The older woman looked up at Antonio, anger in her gaze. “This mess of her hair represents what they did to her mind. I can fix it up, but if you don’t find who contracted the spell, it’ll take hold again. Her mind will snarl as badly as her pretty hair.”

“Do you have any ideas who did this?”

“Oh, I have ideas all right. But the man -- or woman -- who did this hex isn’t that important. The person who paid holds the other end of this.” She tugged and pulled a long strand of red cotton from Coco’s thickest mat. “You burn both parts of this little rope and it’ll break the hex.” Antonio glanced over at Ramon, noting the other witch was looking into the distance, a look of complete serenity on his face. Had
he
performed the magic? Somehow, it didn’t seem like Ramon’s style. It was mean and malicious, yes. But somehow, he caught the faint scent of blood sacrifice coming from Ramon. He’d moved on to darker things.

Once she’d unraveled the red cotton twine from Coco’s hair, the rest came apart like magic. Coco reached up and sighed deeply. She rubbed her scalp, relief evident on her face.

“Antonio, is it…” She frowned and shook her head. “Still gone.”

He wasn’t certain if she meant her husky or her mind. Didn’t matter, they were a step in the right direction.

“Now my darlings, you figure out why someone did this. If you can find the person who cast the spell, that will be helpful. Other than the tangling aspects, is there anything outstanding about the spell? Anything that is… a signature?”

“My animal’s gone.” For the first time since he’d met her, Coco sounded angry. “Gone. Not afraid, not asleep.
Gone
.”

“You’re a shifter?” Nicola raised an arched brow in an expression he remembered from long ago. “And this spell took your animal?” She cast a meaningful glance at Ramon. “Anything else?”

“Water. The spell grows weak around water.” Antonio felt rage creeping into his bones, waking the tiger. He couldn’t let it loose, not here in a bar, but still, he knew he didn’t have long. The cat had fixated on Ramon and wasn’t going to back down. Nicola had given her son away.

As though sensing an explosion coming, the bouncer moved in their direction. In the far distance of his sanity, he heard the big man speaking to the bartender.

“Hmm. Someone who uses patterns and hasn’t mastered the elements. Not an accomplished practitioner, I’d say, but a certain rough power. My son might know someone who matches the description.” Tia Nicola calmly put her tools back into her satchel, untying the cape from Coco’s neck. “Such pretty hair.” She stroked it gently, and then quickly tied it back into a French braid. “This will help, but it will soon start tangling again.”

Antonio rose and sat on the bench opposite Ramon. He stared steadily at the man’s dark, shadowed face. He sought mercy deep within, a sense of old friendship. He found nothing. He rested his hand flat on the table, letting wicked claws morph from the tips of his fingers.

“Someone hurt my mate, Ramon. Do you know who that might be?” His voice had dropped an octave, and came from an odd place in his throat. He caught the rancid scent of the witch’s fear.

“
Não sei
!” he choked. “I do not know, Antonio!”

He leaned forward, till he was just inches from the other man’s face. “Did
you
do this, Ramon? Did you know she was my mate somehow? Maybe the cards? Did you mean to take revenge for what I did to you?”

Ramon jerked his head abruptly. “No. No, please, Antonio. I will make it right. I will tell you… Tonight I will tell you who has the other end of the rope.
Por favor
, Antonio!”

“He didn’t do it.” Coco sounded devastated. “He’s just saying those things because he’s afraid.”

Antonio didn’t turn in her direction. He never took his eyes off Ramon’s frightened face. “
Como
!” He hissed. “Who?”

Ramon gasped. “Miguela, my wife!” He dropped forward, choking through his fear. And oddly, Antonio wasn’t so certain Ramon was completely afraid of him. He stood, reached across the table and fisted Ramon’s collar. He knocked the fedora off his head, revealing the scars running across the other man’s face. Claw marks, smaller than they would be today, running from the side of his face up into his hairline. That day so long ago, Antonio had twisted under the weight of the larger boy’s body, reaching and slashing, spilling blood for the first time in his life.

He pushed Ramon and scanned the bar, noting that Nicola and Coco waited on the far side of the table. He breathed deeply, pulling the tiger back into himself. He nodded then, moving to Coco’s side. As a group, they moved toward the exit. When he reached the door, a beefy hand grasped his shoulder. Antonio shot a deadly look at the bear shifter.

“I send da boss on break. But you do shit like that in here again…”

Antonio had to let the thick, German accent process before he understood the man’s words. He nodded. “He knows who did this to Coco. And she’s my mate.”

The big man stared down at him, as though reading Antonio’s very soul. “Ja. I see.” He glanced around. “Boss comes back soon. You need extra fist?”

He considered the offer for a moment. “You think a half-assed witch will be able to take on a 500-pound tiger?” He arched a brow.

The bouncer whistled. “I hear you tell Coco you were Siberian. Didn’t think tiger.”

Antonio grinned. “She didn’t either.” He winked at the man. “Name’s Antonio Silva. I might be back in soon.”

The bear shifter clasped his hand in his massive grip. “Gregory. I’m here always. You need help, call at me.” He nodded for emphasis, his bald head gleaming in the neon lights of the bar. He reached into the pocket of his jacket, fishing out a card. “Anytime.”

* * *

Ramon and Miguela lived in a run-down neighborhood. Clearly being a witch for hire didn’t pay as well as Ramon had hoped back in the old days. Thankfully, it was within walking distance of the bar; Coco was focused enough that he didn’t have to watch every step she took. She lost her balance only once, giving a delicate growl of frustration when she stubbed her toe on a crack in the pavement. He wanted to help her more. He wanted to pick her up, carry her over all the perils before them, not just tonight, but forever. But he had the feeling that if he tried to enforce his dominance over her, she’d do her best to assert her independence. It was the Siberian way, after all. Her submission had to be freely given, and on her own terms.

So he’d let her walk on her own, allowing her to take help when she needed it. Her hair gleamed in the moonlight; with the mats combed free, it hung to her shoulder blades. Before Nicola had braided it, it had waved and curled; even in the dim light of the bar he’d been able to see it had been a riot of color.

“Your picture showed you had blue eyes and auburn hair.” She reached out and gripped his arm as they turned into a dingy side street. Ramon led the way, egged on by the sharp words of his mother.

“Contact lenses and hair dye. Had to fit the corporate image.”

He paused. “Listen…”

“What?” She stared into the darkness, moving her head to catch sounds on the evening breeze. “I don’t hear anything.”

He grinned, looking down at her. “You’re making perfect sense, and you haven’t even had an orgasm!”

She smacked his arm and then laughed. “That damn thing is out of my hair. Maybe when we get the other half, I’ll get my…” She broke off, clearly disturbed. “Antonio, what if my animal is gone forever?” She whispered so quietly, he barely heard her. “What if the witch… killed it?”

“It isn’t dead, Coco. I don’t think any of us could survive losing our animal that way. It’s alive and well.” But the thought scared him just the same. She wouldn’t have managed much longer if he hadn’t come along. Coco couldn’t have lived much longer on the streets, subsisting on protein bars and sports drink. Sooner or later, something -- or someone -- would have taken her.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and they began walking again. If it had been somewhere else, maybe another time, it would have been a romantic evening. But before them, a little ramshackle stucco house cast malevolent yellow light from the windows. Above them, thunder rumbled. Very soon, it would rain.

Chapter Ten

“Hmm.”

Miguela Cruz stood in the doorway of a greasy little kitchen, studying Antonio and Coco. She sized up the dress she wore and then evaluated the man at Coco’s side. Coco narrowed her eyes at the taller woman, daring her to make a move on Antonio.

“You’re the lawyer.”

Coco didn’t answer; she didn’t trust that she could get the words out properly. Fury boiled through her, and beside her she felt Antonio’s anger rising. Frankly, the stupid bitch didn’t know what she was drawing to the surface.

She studied the witch, who sauntered into the living room, shadowed by her husband. She wasn’t what Coco had expected. She’d pictured Ramon’s wife as a witch… literally. And in a sense, she fit the bill. But instead of the traditional white garb Nicola wore, Miguela dressed in jeans and a flowing tunic the color of emerald. She was bi-racial, her tightly curled hair was bleached nearly white and fell to her shoulders in a frenetic froth of corkscrews. It was her guess that Tia Nicola had nothing to do with that hairstyle.