Wicked by Any Other Name (25 page)

Stasi looked at the friends she considered family crowded around the table. Nick was the only one without a bowl of chili in front of him—just a glass of wine.

This is what I wanted for Samhain. Friends here, the place filled with warmth, a sense of togetherness and love.
Content to forget about her problems even if just for a little while, she ate a spoonful of chili, then reached for a bite of bread to cut the heat in her mouth. As usual, Blair had overdone the chili spices, but no one was complaining. While Irma couldn't eat food, she still sat at the table and joined in.

By silent agreement, all problems were tucked away and conversation was punctuated with laughter.

“I don't see why I have to eat with the animals,” Horace groused from his spot on the floor near Bogie, Fluff and Puff, and Sirius. He waved a gargoyle-sized spoon in one claw.

“Just be glad you're even getting some chili,” Blair told him before returning to the conversation.

“You actually know how to use a Dust Buster?” Stasi teased Jazz.

“No one at the Full Moon Café would do the clean-up after the lady staked her son,” she replied. “Like I wanted to clean up vamp dust either.” She sobered. “It was actually a sad moment. She wanted so badly to see her son, even though he had been turned. We just didn't know she intended to end his existence.”

“Perils of taking on mortal clients,” Nick said. “The only good thing is, his sire didn't retaliate.”

“And I was left to clean up the mess,” Jazz said. “I'm going to expect a raise the next time I work with you.”

“How many Starbucks cards have you worn out?”

“I'm thinking The Body Bakery and Sephora next.” She examined her nails, which she had alternately polished orange and black that afternoon. “I'll give you the information.”

“Why not give her a salary?” Trev asked.

Jazz shook her head. “Not as much fun. Plus my fee depends on the job he wants me to do.”

“Then how come I don't get paid?” Irma piped up. “I saved your scrawny behind at Colin Reeves' mansion, I told you what was going on in that house where the vampire kidnapped her descendant, and I keep the car safe.”

“You stink up the car with your cigarettes,” Jazz pointed out.

“I was smoking in that car long before you showed up to try to get me out of it,” Irma reminded her.

Trev leaned over to whisper in Stasi's ear, “Are they always like this?”

She nodded. “Usually it's worse. After over fifty years together, they're more like demented mother and daughter.”

“And Nick?”

“Jazz and Nick have been on and off for the last few hundred years. But there's such a strong connection between them that we think this time might be very long term,” she whispered back.

“Even if vampires can't drink a witch's blood.”

“I don't think that bothers them.”

He sat close enough to her that his hand rested against her back as a warm imprint.

“And Blair and Jake?”

“Even if she seems to fend him off sometimes, she's the one doing the chasing until he gets the message and slows down long enough for her to catch him. Like the dog always chasing a car, except they say a dog wouldn't know what to do if he caught a car, and Blair will know only too well what to do with Jake.”

“And you?” He waited until she turned to face him. “What about you? What would you do if you caught
a car?
”

She knew the car he meant had two arms and two legs instead of tires, a mouth she'd never tire of kissing, and a body she'd like to spend eternity exploring. The heat in his eyes told her he was thinking the same.

“The snow is still falling.” His voice was pitched for her ears only.

“I know.”

“No problem in my staying the night again?”

“Not at all.” Her lips barely moved.

“And I don't have to share the couch with Jake?”

She shook her head. “That wouldn't be fair to either of you.”

“I wonder what happened to that dog,” Jazz spoke up, breaking the spell between the duo. “It's so cold out there he could turn into a dogsicle.”

“Dogs are good at taking care of themselves. They look for a warm spot,” Jake said, getting up to fill his bowl again. He retrieved Blair's bowl too and looked around to see if anyone else was interested in another helping. As he filled the bowls, he checked the window over the sink and the one set in the back door. “It might not hurt to board up the windows. While they're double paned, there's still a chance they could crack from all the cold. The same for all the other windows up here.”

Stasi studied him. “You're afraid someone might decide to venture outside and throw rocks through the upstairs windows, aren't you? That the protection wards won't hold.”

“That could be logical,” Nick said slowly. “And something we should have thought of sooner. The weather might be keeping them inside, but if it keeps up much longer, frustration is going to settle in and they'll blame you for it.”

“We've had bad storms up here before—we've been snowed in for up to a couple of weeks,” Blair said.

“But there was no question that the weather was to blame then. No one's blaming the weather this time around.” Jake settled back in his chair, deliberately bumping against Blair. She growled a warning he good-naturedly ignored. “I'll go out and get the boards after dinner.”

“No, after you help with the dishes,” Blair corrected him.

Stasi turned away to hide her grin. For a witch in pursuit of a hunky carpenter, Blair was making it difficult for herself. She couldn't wait to see what happened when the two finally got together. Even with her world falling down around her, Stasi was thinking pretty positively, and she knew it had to do with the sexy wizard cuddling up with her.

And here Dorothy was told to not look behind the curtain.
Her smile grew bigger by the second.

“Hold that thought, gorgeous,” Trev murmured, kissing her on the cheek. “I'll help Jake with the manly work.”

“Mm, something about a guy wearing a tool belt,” she purred.

“I'll loan you one, Trev.” Jake grinned.

“The man has good ears.”

My family.
Stasi looked around again.
It's my fault they're part of this disaster, yet you'd think this was nothing more than another get-together.

The men were generous enough to shoo the witches out of the kitchen with the offer to handle the clean-up.

“Nick washing dishes. I must get pictures of this.” Jazz conjured up her cell phone and ran in to snap photos. “It's for my scrapbook!
Nick!
” She returned with soaking wet hair. “He got hold of the sprayer in the sink,” she muttered on her way to the bathroom for a towel.

Irma drifted in and settled in the rocking chair she'd sat in earlier.

“I wish I could knit,” she sighed. “I used to crochet lovely afghans and knit baby sweaters, blankets, and booties. Every new mother wanted a set from me. Not that anyone here would have a need for them.”

“True.” Jazz walked in with her hair wrapped up in a towel. “No little witches running around.”

Stasi felt a pang around her heart at Jazz's words and if she wasn't wrong, she saw that same hint of sorrow in Jazz and Blair's faces. Part of the punishment Eurydice had laid on them back in 1313 was that they couldn't have children.

Stasi knew it was better they didn't have children. They didn't know what it would be like for a child, considering the lifestyle she and her fellow witches had had over the centuries.

She was tired. Not physically but emotionally. She wanted a chance to pursue what was happening between her and Trev. She wanted to see if there was a chance for them. The L word whispered inside her mind, but she kept tucking it away. She was afraid if it continued it would become real, but what if his feelings weren't as intense as hers?

When Trev later walked into the family room with an armload of boards, he shot her a look that promised some quality private time later on.

Oh yes, she really wanted to pursue this. And she'd know exactly what to do with her prey, too.

***

“I feel as if we're prisoners,” Stasi said, when she and Trev later retreated to her bedroom. He'd taken a shower claiming he was filthy after handling the boards and was now stretched out naked on the bed. Although the view was tempting, she looked at her window with the boards crisscrossed over it. Her linen chest under the window held a couple of leftover boards. Horace was snuggled down in a fleece-lined dresser drawer, snoring loudly, while Bogie was curled up nose to tail in his bed. “I want it to end.” She lay next to Trev on the bed, idly pleating the duvet with her fingertips.

Trev caught her hand and brought it to his chest, holding it there and putting his hand over hers.

She slid over closer to him, closed her eyes, and rested her head on his shoulder. She enjoyed the feel of his warm skin and imagined she could feel his heartbeat under her palm. She inhaled the scent of his skin. “Mmm, you smell like chocolate mint.” She moved her head just enough to kiss his neck. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed his cock was stirring. She pulled her other hand over and lightly trailed his side. Oh yes, that did very nicely in catching his attention.

“Yeah, I noticed no glacier mountains or ocean waves fragrance body washes in your bathroom,” he said wryly. “But I left your creams alone. My masculinity may be secure, but there's only so far I'll go.”

“Thank Jazz. She loves her body products.”

“And here I have a perfectly good body wash at the hotel that lets me smell like a guy.”

“Yes, but now you smell good enough to eat.” And she started to move down to prove it.

Trev held her back. “Horace?”

“I put a sleeping potion in that last bowl of chili. He'll be out for a while.”

He didn't stop her this time, and pretty soon his eyes rolled back and he muttered something about her killing him.

By the time Stasi finished, Trev was sprawled across the bed looking very happy, indeed. When she crawled back up to him and kissed him deeply, he grinned.

“Woman, you are amazing.” His smile dimmed and his eyes turned an even deeper blue. He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I think I forgot to tell you something.”

Stasi had to smile down on him because there was something boyish about him she hadn't seen before. “What did you forget to tell me that has you looking so serious?”

“I forgot to tell you that I'm in love with you.”

Stasi was sure her heart had stopped. “You are?”

He nodded. “I know we haven't known each other for long, and our meeting wasn't exactly normal.”

“It's the hearts,” she blurted out.

“No, it's not. It's all you and me.” Trev curled his hand around her neck and brought her face down to his for a kiss that kept on going until they were gasping for breath. His hand trailed a path along her belly and kept going down to the damp slick folds.

“Yes,” she gasped, pulling him closer and draping her leg over his calf as she wrapped her hand around his cock and brought him to her.

He buried himself in her, feeling the pulsing of her inner muscles already clutching him in the beginnings of her orgasm.

“I love you so much,” she whispered as she rose up to meet him. “I love you.” She laughed, feeling joy and freedom in the words.

“Mine. All mine.” Trev thrust deeper and faster as his own climax took over.

The red hearts over their heads developed arms and high-fived each other.

Afterwards, Trev pulled the covers over them and they curled up together.

“The lunar eclipse is tonight,” Stasi murmured, content to be in Trev's arms. Her heart still sang with the notion he loved her. She realized she'd loved him for the past few days but had been afraid to admit it even to herself. His disclosure freed her to tell the truth. “Not that anyone can tell with the sky already so dark, even though there don't seem to be clouds tonight. It's as if a blanket covered it all. And not a nice blanket, either.” Her shoulders rose and fell in a soft sigh.

“Maybe the eclipse will set things to rights.” He laced his fingers between hers and brought her knuckles up to his lips for a lingering kiss.

She lifted her head slightly so she could see his face. “Do you think so?”

He was silent for so long she didn't think he was going to answer.

“No, but it sounds good, doesn't it?”

Stasi smiled. She was ready to believe anything if it meant Trev would be in her life. “Yes, it does.”

***

Choking! Can't breathe! Air is heavy. Choking.

Stasi opened her eyes to find the room gray and hazy. She tasted ash on her tongue, and her nose burned from the acrid smell in the air. She sat up in bed, coughing.

“This isn't good, Stasi,” Horace choked from the dresser drawer where he'd been sleeping.

Bogie floated up from his bed, licking her face and whimpering his distress.

“Trev. Trev!” She shook him hard. “Wake up!” She covered her mouth and nose with her hand as she slid out of bed, running to her closet and dragging out clothing.

“What the hell?” Trev sat up and started hacking.

A fist pounded on Stasi's door. “Get up!”

“We're up!” she called out, hopping on one foot as she climbed into her jeans.

“Someone set fire to the building!” Jazz called out, fear lining her voice.

“Nick! He has to be the first one out.” Stasi tossed Trev's sweater to him as she dug out her own.

He threw it on, not caring it was inside out, and picked up Horace while Stasi grabbed Bogie.

The hallway was filled with smoke that stung their noses and caused their eyes to burn.