Hex Appeal (23 page)

Jazz sat up coughing and waving her hand in front of her face to dissipate the smoke. “Ugh! What was that?” She stared at the door that didn't look as if it had just turned into a prop from
The Towering Inferno.

“You're the one with a degree in magick; you tell me.” Nick moved swiftly over to Willie. “We have a problem.”

Jazz groaned as she maneuvered herself to her feet and slowly made her way to Nick's side. She stared at Willie who not only lay still, but his head was twisted in a direction that wasn't physically possible when his legs were lying in an opposite position.

“This is not my fault.”

Nick moved rapidly to the door, checking the unmarred surface with his palms then cracked it open and looked out.

“No one noticed the noise?” she asked, still aware of a ringing in her ears and the smell of sulfurous smoke stinging her nostrils.

“Not when the explosion was caused by magick.” He eased the door closed and turned back to her. “Someone meant to keep Willie in here. Anyone else could come in and out, but he couldn't leave.”

Jazz dug in her bag and pulled out her cell phone.

“I don't think it would be a good idea to call the police,” Nick said.

“Forget the cops. I want proof for Rex.” She snapped several pictures.

He remained in his crouched position by the body. “We can't leave him here.”

“Except whatever magick was on that door won't let him out.”

“He's dead, Jazz. I don't think the spell will stop him now.” He stood up and started to bend down to sling the body over his shoulder when Willie's form turned hazy. When the mist disappeared light brown fur replaced skin and he was a fraction of his original size.

“He looks better in his furry form than human,” she said.

Nick picked up the critter and stared at Jazz's leather tote bag.

She didn't need magick to know his intent. “Oh, no, you don't. There is no way you're putting that
thing
in my bag. This is a Prada for Fates' sake!”

“We need to get it out of here and do it without using magick,” he said quietly. “Do you have any better ideas?”

While Jazz excelled in her role as Wicked Witch of the Southland, she couldn't win the battle of the glares with Nick.

“Fine, but we're wrapping it up. There's no way I'm dumping this
thing
in there without a lot of covering.” She stalked to the closet and pulled out a plastic laundry bag. Once the body was dumped in the bag and Nick tied the top, she wrapped the bag in a hand towel that proved to be almost as large as a bath towel. “And someone's buying me a new bag, because no way I'm using this one after this. First my Dooney & Bourke bag is stolen, now this. I can't keep anything nice!”

“Send the bill to Rex.” Nick took her red leather shoulder bag from her, rolled the weasel in the towel, and carefully tucked it inside before handing it back to Jazz.

Instead of slipping the straps over her shoulder, she used her fingertips to hold it out as far from her body as possible.

Nick made a quick pass over the door and furniture with a towel and slipped a
Do Not Disturb
sign over the doorknob as they left.

“Say ‘thank you, Nick,'” he said as he sped up the highway.

“I'm supposed to thank you for putting a dead weasel in my Prada bag?” She gagged as she deposited said bag in the backseat.

“How about for finding Willie for you, which means the slippers are off the hook?”

“You didn't find Willie. Coby did. And now I'll have to explain to Rex why Willie is dead.”

“Call me crazy, but something tells me that if there was a chance Rex knew Willie was actually alive, he wouldn't have expected him to come back.”

Jazz released a deep sigh. “While I didn't like that time I was mortal, at least it was a bit saner
—
except for the blotchy skin, dry ends, breakouts, and crying jags.” She was silent for a moment. “You really hurt me that night,” she said softly. “I was so upset and I was in so much pain, at least I was when the painkillers wore off, and when I asked you for comfort you treated me as if I had the plague. Considering the emotional wreck I was then, your timing totally sucked.”

Since she was still looking out the window she didn't see the pain and regret briefly cross his features.

“You asked me to go after the man who mugged you,” he reminded her. “You wanted him torn into pieces. That doesn't sound like comfort to me.”

“It was my way of wanting comfort.”

“There are some things we can't control,” Nick said quietly.

Jazz's memories of her days as a mortal blended with the odd dream of her being a mortal complete with husband, two kids, and a minivan—and probably even a dog in the backyard.

She had no idea that Nick's thoughts closely mirrored her own, but that his feelings were tainted with something much darker.

“And I'm supposed to believe that's Willie?” Rex stared at the towel and plastic wrapped bundle Nick dropped on his desk. The small office behind the carousel smelled of popcorn and cotton candy and was neat as a pin, which surprised Jazz since she expected a space that would rival the looks of a pigsty. She didn't even see a stray sheet of paper on the filing cabinet.

Jazz pulled out her cell phone and brought up the photographs she'd taken. “Don't even try and claim this isn't Willie. Because if you lie about it,
I'll
be the one going to the Ruling Council. Instead, do the right thing and let them know that Fluff and Puff didn't eat Willie.”

Rex picked up a pen and poked the body with it. The furry critter rolled over onto its other side. “What in Hades' name did you do to it?”

“Someone else made sure he wouldn't leave that hotel suite alive. Someone I think you know.” Nick leaned against the wall. “A lot of magick in that room, Rex, and none of it was witch magick.”

“I know a lot of people, vampire.” Rex smirked.

Jazz knew this was the last place she wanted to stay for too long. “Make the call,” she advised, picking up her bag that she privately vowed would be going into the trash as soon as she got home. Considering what the contents had been for even a short while, she couldn't in good conscience give the bag to charity.

Nick remained in his spot as Jazz reached the door.

“I'll make the call once Willie's pack leader confirms this is him.” The boardwalk manager pushed the bundle off his desk and into a wastebasket.

“I'm serious, Rex. Don't wait around for his pack leader. You make that call now, because I don't think you'll want me to make it.” Jazz was proud of her parting shot as she exited the office.

“Vampire.” Rex's voice stopped Nick from following her.

Nick looked over his shoulder.

“There's things going on here even you can't control and you can't always protect her.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, if you really want answers look to your own nest.” Rex's smile didn't hold any humor.

Nick's expression darkened. “We should have a talk one day.”

“Yes, let's.” Rex bared his teeth indicating that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Nick barely closed the door behind him before Jazz had hold of his duster lapels. “Okay, what was the supernatural testosterone war in there about?” she demanded. “Stuff like that gives me a major headache.”

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh sure, don't bother your empty head about it, little witch. Let the big bad vampire deal with it. Puleeze!” She started to stalk off then changed her mind. “Mindy said the source of my problems, which I take to mean my nightmares, could be found in my past and now Rex is saying you need to look to your own nest which, as far as I'm concerned, is pretty much the same thing. That makes me think the two are connected and Willie was nothing more than some sick pawn in this whole thing. What reason is there to stash a scummy Wereweasel carnie in an exclusive hotel and then set up a magickal bomb in the door so he can't leave? Rex was really fast to accuse Fluff and Puff of eating Willie while everyone knows he could really care less if the carnies take off as long as someone else took their place. He was pushing big time for the slippers to be destroyed and it was pure luck I could talk him into not going to the Ruling Council right away.” She forgot what had been inside her bag as she pushed the straps up over her shoulder.

“Or maybe not luck. Maybe he didn't go to them,” he murmured, walking along with her. “It's easier to threaten you with the Council and then only go to them if you fought him for too long. He was positive you wouldn't find Willie and then he could go to the Council to demand that Fluff and Puff be destroyed and that would be that. It's a known fact the slippers are precious to you.”

“I always knew I didn't like him,” she muttered. “He really needs to go. Do you think Coby would help?”

Nick shook his head. “Wrong pack. Plus Rex is the alpha in his pack, so the only ones who can help you are the Ruling Council.”

Jazz spun around, her hand outstretched, but Nick grabbed it in time.

“No magick!” he ordered, almost crushing her fingers with his strong grip.

“Willie's dead! He won't mind if he explodes in a gross smelly mess all over Rex's office!” She didn't look happy at being thwarted.

“No, but the Witches' Council will. You're already walking a fine line with them after Clive Reeves. Don't make matters worse until we discover who's behind the nightmares and everything else going on,” he advised.

She reluctantly lowered her arm. “Okay, for now. But his time is coming.” She glared at the building as if that could level it.

Nick gazed up at the sky. “I have a client showing up a little after dusk, so I need to get going. I guess I'll see you Thursday night.”

Jazz nodded. “That's the plan. And I still haven't been able to find out who the mystery woman is.” She studied her nails. “Ugh! I need a manicure to get the weasel gunk out from under them. Good luck with your client.” She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth.

“Don't you want a ride back to the house?”

She shook her head. “Don't worry about it. The walk will do me good.”

Nick stood in the shadows of the building and watched her cross the boardwalk. More than one man paused to watch her graceful stride.

“Perhaps you do need a normal life,” he whispered, as he headed for his building.

***

“What would impress Krebs's new girlfriend?” Jazz murmured, studying the contents of her closet and pulling out various pieces of clothing with comments “too slutty,” “too witchy,” “not sexy enough,” and “why did I keep this thing?” She tossed the last item to one side. In the end, she settled on a teal silk slip dress edged with matching lace. “Okay, girls, you need to behave tonight,” she told Croc and Delilah as she slipped them on. They obliged by changing to a matching shade of teal. Jazz had settled for putting her hair up in a mass of curls that drifted down her back. She studied her reflection in her full-length mirror, turning one way and then the other. “Yes, very nice.”

Chatter from a corner of her room caught her attention. She looked at the magickal cage that still held Fluff and Puff. The bunny slippers were a lot more subdued lately, which kept her life a little quieter and saner. She thought it had to do with the fear someone from the Ruling Council would show up to take them into custody. Guilt assaulted her for not freeing them as soon as she got home, but she had to admit knowing where they were and that they had no choice but to stay out of trouble kept her from telling them that she found proof that they hadn't eaten Willie. True, she first found him alive and well, but now he was dead due to a booby-trapped doorknob. Still, they had nothing to do with it.

“Forget it. I'll channel Scarlett O'Hara and think about it tomorrow.” She took one quick check of her lip gloss before she picked up her evening bag and left the room. As she descended the stairs, she heard the chime of the doorbell and the faint sound of a woman's voice along with Nick's. She warmed at the sound of the latter and froze at the sound of the former. “Don't tell me. Please don't tell me.” She quickened her pace, almost running down the rest of the way. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she almost skidded on the Italian tile floor.

Nick, dead sexy in charcoal slacks and a silk shirt that echoed the color of his eyes, stood by a woman wearing dark red silk pants and a black lace tank-style top along with a jacket that matched her pants. She gave eternal beauty a whole new meaning. Black hair was fashioned in a short sassy cut that framed delicate features and belied a core that Jazz knew for a fact was strong as steel. Eyes a deep cobalt blue watched Jazz with an expression she couldn't easily read. If Jazz didn't know better she'd say the woman was nervous, which couldn't be the case at all.

“Good evening, Jazz,” she spoke with an accent that wasn't easy to identify. Understandable since the woman had lived in many countries over her five hundred years of existence.

“Leticia.” Jazz's tone was noticeably cooler. Her gaze hopped over to Nick and what she saw there didn't make her any happier. She prided herself that she didn't need a scorecard to know that Leticia was Krebs's date and that Nick appeared to already know this. Krebs stood on the other side of the woman watching Jazz with the wariness of a mouse watching a cat. “I didn't realize you and Krebs were seeing each other outside of business,” she said carefully.

Leticia looked up at Krebs with a warmth that transformed her face from porcelain beauty to something almost human. She stood with her head reaching his shoulder.

“We started to get to know each other through e-mails and phone calls when he first worked on my site,” she explained. “We thought it would be nice for the four of us to go out. It's good to see you again, Jazz.”

“And you, although, it's been some time.” She decided not to mention that World War I was going on at the time. A part of her wanted to rant and rave that this was wrong, very wrong. But another part looked at Krebs's face and saw something she had never seen before.

Her very mortal roommate was in love. Honest to Fates love. The only trouble was, he was in love with a vampire.

“So? What are the plans for tonight?” she asked in a voice that came out higher pitched than expected while she pasted a smile on her lips. She deserved an Academy Award for this performance.

There was no missing Krebs's sigh of relief or the warm approval in Nick's eyes.

She kept her smile in place even if it felt a bit forced.

“We have time before the limo shows up. Would anyone like some wine?” Krebs played the perfect host.

“You knew about this?” Jazz hissed, as she and Nick moved toward the family room.

She can hear you.

Jazz mentally slapped herself upside the head.
He told you that day you were over here for a football game, didn't he?

He did.

And you didn't tell him what a really bad idea this is?

You know him better than I do. Do you think he'd listen?

No, but that shouldn't have stopped you. Leticia's on an eternal liquid diet. Krebs loves his steak rare. They both might be night people, but it's for different reasons.

It's only an evening out, love. Even with us present as buffers they might discover they're not meant for each other.

Jazz studied the sparks that had nothing to do with magick between the couple.

Somehow I don't think that's going to happen.

As the evening passed she realized the two were perfect for each other. Leticia shared Krebs's taste in music, or at least pretended to, and her roomie had never looked happier. Considering the number of women Jazz had seen him with over the few years they'd known each other, she liked seeing this side of him as the enraptured male as the foursome spent the evening at an upscale club. She even gracefully handled Nick's knowing looks.

It wasn't until she and Leticia retired to freshen their lipstick that Jazz felt comfortable enough to say what had been in her mind all evening.

“Krebs is very special to me,” she said, as she sat down in front of the vanity mirror.

“And to me,” Leticia said.

“Then you will understand if I say that if you ever hurt him or try to use him for a midnight snack I will do everything in my power to make you suffer.” Jazz's tone was bright as she dusted her cheeks with a golden blush.

Leticia's eyes met hers in the reflective glass. “I wouldn't have it any other way.”

Jazz's internal detector told her the vampire was speaking the truth. “You really do care for him.”

“Very much. Jonathan is the first man to treat me like a real woman for hundreds of years. He doesn't care what I am or what I've done in the past. Do you realize how freeing that is to someone like me? It's as if I've been given a whole new life.”

Jazz didn't have to think about her answer even as she reminded herself that Leticia seemed to prefer Krebs's real name instead of the nickname Jazz dubbed him with. “Yes, I can,” she murmured. “I'm sure you'll understand that I'll always worry about your association, but I'm glad that you and Krebs found each other. He's a great guy and deserves someone special.”

“Thank you.” She smiled. “I love your shoes. Milan?”

“A friend gave them to me.” She looked down to see Croc sneezing as she nosed the plush carpet. Delilah somehow managed to add another layer of mascara to her inch-long eyelashes, although Jazz had no idea where the stiletto hid her makeup. “They're not my usual style, but they are fun to wear.”

“I used to have an ermine makeup case until she ate all my lipsticks and regurgitated them during a date.”

Jazz burst out laughing. “And I thought it was bad when Fluff and Puff drank three bottles of my body wash and burped bubbles for a week.”

“I guess I was lucky with the lipsticks.”

Leticia returned her lipstick to her small evening bag and turned on the bench to face Jazz. “I hope you don't mind that Jonathan told me that you have been suffering from odd dreams.”

“In a way, yes, I mind, but since my nightmares woke him up a time or eight, I can understand. Plus, it seems others have been finding out somehow.” She thought of Mindy's advice and even Rex speaking up.

“And you feel they're magickally induced?”

Jazz nodded. “But that's the best I've been able to come up with so far.”

“Sometimes old grudges rise up to the present.” She appeared to pick and choose her words.