50 Ways to Hex Your Lover (8 page)

“Neither are yours,” Flavius reminded him. “Don’t allow that prejudice to get in the way of your investigation, Nico. We can’t
interfere in a mortal’s life just because you have a hunch—and perhaps a grudge.”

Nick whipped around to face his sire.

“Then tell me this. Why have so many vampires attended parties at the Reeves mansion, and yet not all leave the property?
And even with that knowledge, why has no one done anything about it?”

Flavius’ smile showed the weariness of a man who also had more questions than answers.

“Since the Protectorate has engaged your services, I would say that it is now up to you to find out.”

“I’m sorry, Callie, but I don’t do that type of work. I don’t follow alleged cheating mates,” Nick sighed, keeping the phone
to his ear as he wandered the office. He glanced at the old-fashioned clock on the wall. He was late meeting Flavius at Club
Insolence, an exclusive club for wealthy vampires who were willing to pay the outrageous membership fees for their privacy.
The club wasn’t Nick’s style, but Flavius enjoyed the elitist ambiance there. Nick planned to take Flavius to The Crypt, a
more down-and-dirty club, the next time they got together. Knowing Flavius, he would enjoy what both clubs offered.

“But I was told you’re the best, that you can do what others can’t! Please?” the woman begged. “I need to know the truth about
Thomas. I want to know that he still loves me as much as I love him.”

Nick stifled a groan. He wanted to tell her that ten-to-one her mate was cheating on her. The couple had been converted together
only twenty years ago because they wanted to be together always. The trouble was, male vamps tended to be extremely promiscuous
for the first couple hundred years just because they could and the sex was so mind-blowing that it turned into an addiction.
If it hadn’t been for Flavius teaching him that quality definitely outweighed quantity, Nick would have been screwing a new
woman, or four, every night, too.

“Do you truly love him?” he asked her, already knowing what her answer would be. Fates save him from lovesick baby vampires.

“Yes.” Her heart might no longer beat, but her sobs were without a doubt the heartbroken kind. “We vowed we would love each
other always. That’s why we got converted together. But now he goes out almost every night and he doesn’t want me going with
him. He said he’s expected to hunt with other males. I don’t believe him. Oh, he brings food back for me, but we don’t spend
time together the way I thought we would.”

Nick pressed his fingertips against the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. Spare him from fickle young love. It never
lasted as long as they thought it would. “I’m sorry, Callie, but I truly don’t take on this type of case. I’ll tell you what
I can do. I want you to talk to a friend of mine. Her name’s Rowena.”

“Rowena,” she repeated the name. “So she can find out if Thomas is cheating on me?”

“No, but she can help you find your own way in the vampire world.” He winced at the muffled sob on the other end as realization
hit hard that one night Thomas might not come back. Nick never did well with emotional females. At least Jazz never teared
up when she was in an emotional state. She was more into throwing things at his head. “You admitted you personally have had
few contacts with other vampires after the two of you converted. What about your sire?”

“Who?”

Nick swallowed a groan. “The vampire who made you. He or she should be instructing the two of you in how to survive in your
new world.”

“No, we just paid this guy to do it.” She sounded totally clueless about the undead existence ahead of her.

He mentally spat out more than his share of curses and wished for a few of Jazz’s fireballs. “He shouldn’t have done that.
It was his job to teach the two of you how to exist in our world.”

“Thomas has vampire friends who do that,” Callie said.

“You’ve relied too much on Thomas to take care of you and handle things for you. If, Fates forbid, something happens to him,
you would be fair game for others. You need to know how to take care of yourself, Callie. In our world, it is essential that
you be able to do for yourself or you’ll be fair prey for any vampire stronger than you, and right now you’re still as weak
as a newborn kitten.” He had this vision of the constantly disappearing Thomas coming home at the stroke of dawn with a super-sized
to-go cup of blood for Callie. What better way to keep her under his self-imposed power than to ensure she only fed if he
brought the food to her? It was tempting to hunt down the bastard and show him what could happen to young arrogant vampires
who did not follow the rules set down by the Vampire Council ages ago. But then the younger vamps saw the Council as nothing
more than a bunch of old fogies who didn’t believe in living in the new millennium. He feared the time would come when a war
would be waged between the old traditions and the new, far more progressive but often self-destructive ways.

When he hung up, he got the feeling that the young female vampire wouldn’t call Rowena and take that first step to independence,
but he hoped he was wrong. He didn’t want to think that the emotionally frail Callie might grow so depressed she would greet
the dawn, which was the vampire way of committing suicide. All because she was in love and wanted to be with her boyfriend
forever.

No thanks to the internet, too many people, most of them troubled and lost, had the ability to seek out vampires, who, for
a fee, would convert them with the promise of an eternal existence of wealth and decadence. What these hapless fools didn’t
understand was that the fee only covered the conversion. Then they were left to fend for themselves, and without any training
on how to understand their enhanced senses and thirst for blood, some turned feral, while others couldn’t handle it, and insanity
turned to death. When Nick had been a member of the Protectorate, his main job was hunting down many of the vampires who performed
the conversions and destroying them before their wasteful practices destroyed the balance with humanity. And since he managed
to blend easily enough with the human community, he was able to work under the guise of a mortal law enforcement agent when
it was needed. His hand behind the death of so many vampires, even if they deserved it, had been the main reason he had left
the organization that had nurtured him from the beginning of his time as a vampire. He hated the destruction of any being
if there was a way it could be prevented. Rowena, an old friend, had come up with a solution by running a sort of halfway
house for fledgling vampires who had no clue what they had gotten themselves into.

Nick made a mental note to call Rowena when he got back and tell her about Callie. Thanks to Caller ID he had the young vampire’s
phone number. Perhaps Rowena would be successful where Nick himself hadn’t been in helping the young vampire understand what
she needed to do besides simply awaiting the return of the constantly wandering Thomas.

Lost in contemplation of miserable—though often self-imposed—vampire fortunes, it was pure chance that he glanced out his
office window and saw Jazz walking along the boardwalk. Although he always thought Fate had a twisted sense of humor where
he and Jazz were concerned, this bit of synchronous interference certainly beat all.

He took the quickest way out of his office by climbing from the window onto the narrow iron fire escape and going up instead
of down. The buildings’ flat-topped roofs made it easy for him to follow her as she headed for the boardwalk’s arcade and
pier.

He wasn’t surprised to discover she lived near the boardwalk. The child in Jazz had always loved the energy and bright colors
of carnivals and fairs. Once upon a time they had spent many a summer evening at Coney Island riding the large wooden roller
coaster, visiting the exhibits, and dancing under the stars. Those magical nights had more to do with Jazz, the woman, than
Jazz, the witch. He smiled. She had been known as Jessica Tremaine back then. She had favored voluminous skirts that swirled
gracefully from her tiny waist and she’d worn her hair up in an elegant twist. Nothing like the faded jeans and baggy sweatshirt
she wore tonight with her coppery hair tied back in a loose ponytail.

But the magick between them never lasted long. His work would intrude on their lives and she would lose her temper because
he would be forced to take her into custody for some infraction or another since she had a habit of interfering or getting
in the way. So they would part amid colorful shouts and curses. There’d been so many partings, both past and present. Yet,
they always managed to find their way back to each other. He liked to think the Fates had a hand in that.

Tonight Nick was content to follow Jazz’s leisurely progress past the usual Midway games that were guaranteed to take your
money as easily as any Las Vegas craps table. As she walked by he noticed the workers cease their usual patter in hopes of
luring passersby to stop at their booths to try their luck with one of the games. In fact, they managed to avoid looking at
her altogether. She could have been a ghost freely strolling the weathered boards. Or someone who didn’t need luck in pitching
dimes or trying the ring toss to win a prize.

“You’ve won their games too many times, haven’t you, darling?” he murmured.

Jazz stopped for a paper cone of pink cotton candy then walked to the pier. As she enjoyed her sugary treat, she occasionally
took a small bit of the spun candy and tucked it into a large tote bag hanging from her shoulder.

“You two behave,” he heard her warn the bag’s contents. “I don’t want Rex to ban me from the boardwalk too.”

“What the Fates?” he muttered then saw a furry ear poke out and the contents of her tote bag shift. He chuckled and settled
back. So she still had Fluff and Puff, eh?

“Not wearing the man-eating slippers tonight, Jazz?” Nick heard a grizzled old man tease as he cast his fishing line over
the pier’s railing.

“No, this time she appears to be carrying them,” Nick murmured, wincing at one memorable contact with the bunny chompers.
And to think people called
him
bloodthirsty!

“No, I’m not wearing them tonight, Harvey.” She winked.

The man glanced at the tote bag that appeared to have a life of its own. “Oh, I see. Well, even bunny slippers need fresh
air.” His laughter rang out. “I promise not to rat you out to the boardwalk police.”

“Thanks.” Jazz looked out over the incoming waves. “Having any luck?”

“Nah, I think the waves are too choppy tonight, so the fish have moved out to deeper water.” He leaned over. “You wouldn’t
care to sprinkle some mumbo jumbo on my pole, would you?” He waggled thick eyebrows at her.

“You are a very bad man, Harvey,” she chided him. “Fishing is a skill, not magick.” She moved on after giving him a one-armed
hug. Garbled chatter sounded from her tote bag until she shushed the contents.

Nick sat cross-legged on the roof for the next couple of hours watching Jazz ride the carousel, roller coaster, and Ferris
wheel and nibble on funnel cakes before returning to the end of the pier. By this time even the most stubborn of fishermen
had gone home.

Nick swore the witch wore solitude like a cloak. He knew she had witch sisters. He had even met a few of them over the centuries.
But he always sensed they needed her more than she needed them, that she was the independent one of the group. But he also
knew that if any of the other women needed her, she would be there in a heartbeat. His sexy witch was as loyal as they came.

He only wished that same strong loyalty extended to him. Her particular skills and knowledge were just what he needed to uncover
the truth inside Clive Reeves Jr.’s mansion. If he managed to stay out of fireball range, he hoped to convince her to help
him.

When Jazz left the pier and headed for the boardwalk’s parking lot, Nick sped back across the rooftops until he reached his
building. He stood on the edge of the roof, watching her graceful gait. As she left the arcade area, two pairs of fluffy ears
popped above the top of the tote bag and swiveled around like four furry periscopes.

“You take those nasty slippers places, but you don’t take me.” Irma’s whine could be heard from the T-Bird parked at one end
of the walkway, conveniently away from a street lamp.

Nick chuckled. “Always good to hear someone else is giving you a little trouble,” he whispered toward Jazz, knowing there
was no way she could hear him.

As Jazz reached the end of the boardwalk, one arm shot up, the middle finger extended. She continued walking, not looking
back.

Nick’s chuckle deepened to full blown laughter. “No, fuck you, darling. As soon as I can.”

Five

I’m too mercenary for my own good.”

Krebs lifted his head at Jazz’s announcement and let out a low whistle of male appreciation.

“Lady, that is one hot outfit. What rock star are you driving tonight?”

Jazz curled her upper lip in a less than ladylike snarl as she adjusted her black leather bustier designed to show off her
“charms.” Body-molding leather pants and boots made dangerous by razor-sharp four-inch stiletto heels completed the sexy picture.
She left her hair loose in a riot of copper waves and kept the eye make-up smoky and bee-stung lips a deep glossy red. She
carried a knee-length black leather coat. “I wish. Even the gnarliest rocker would be better than what I’ve got tonight. But
the pay was too good to turn down.” She blew him a kiss. “Don’t wait up for me, baby.”

While they were merely roommates, Jazz and Krebs always made sure the other knew when they were going out. She was touched
by his insistence on protecting her even when she could easily disable anyone with a word. Well, anyone but the Witches’ High
Council. They were in the “knows all, sees all” category no matter how hard she tried to fly under their all too keen radar.

She grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator on her way out the back door and froze the moment she hit the first step.
She knew the magickal wards surrounding the house and property were up to date, so nothing dangerous should have gotten past
them. Actually, nothing preternatural, either innocent
or
dangerous, should have gotten past them. Yet something had. A hint of thunder rumbled overhead. She really had to focus on
not allowing her temper to take charge again or she would end up with decades added to her punishment instead of months. Mother
Nature was a good friend with most of the members of the Witches’ High Council.

“You may as well show yourself,” she called out. “I’m on my way out for the night and I don’t want to think someone’s going
to be hanging around here waiting for me to come home. That or I may as well zap you now since I don’t like uninvited visitors.”

Ashadow separated itself from the carriage house and stood off to one side.

She released a deep sigh as Nikolai moved toward her with that sensual grace innate to vampires. She so did not need this
tonight. Still, the man was a pleasure to look at, damn him.

“Get out. Or if you need to hear it in your original tongue,” she uttered words in her version of Russian.

He winced. “Your pronunciation is atrocious.” His eyes bored into hers, not with the vampire’s way of seducing his prey, but
with the glow of a man who knew her intimately.

Certain timbres in a man’s voice always revved Jazz’s engine. This man slash
creature—
an important distinction and she needed to remember it—had them all and then some. It pissed her off that she still felt the
power that flowed off him.

“I don’t have time to trade words with you, Nikolai,” she said.

If his voice tipped her world, his faint hint of smile rocked it. “Some things you never forget. Your beautiful face contorted
with frustrated anger is one of them.”

She should be furious with him, but anger wasn’t what ran through her blood right now.

Why did he have to be the one to affect her like
this?

In the wink of an eye she had herself under control again. She took a deep breath to keep that control alive because down
deep she felt the faintest quiver running through her system. Something that suspiciously felt like tears threatened to bubble
up. He was stirring up memories she refused to revisit.

“How did you get past my wards?” Tiny sparks of light appeared over her head. She had worked hard on those wards, damn it!
Any unwelcome predator that entered the property was quickly encouraged to leave or be turned into a toad. Vampires were predators
of the first order. He shouldn’t have made it past the first ward. When she returned home she planned to increase the protection
tenfold with the consequences even worse than before.

She refused to visit the idea that somehow or other her wards recognized him as some kind of welcome predator—pretty much
the same way he ignored her question about them.

“Just talk to me then,” he spoke slowly and carefully, his Slavic heritage still flavoring his words. “Would that be so difficult?
There were many times we talked the night away.”

Yes, it would be difficult. To keep anything with him to “just talk,” that is. Not that she’d admit it to him. Jazz always
had the snappy comeback and could hold her own, except where Nick was concerned. Her hormones always seemed to get in the
way and before she knew it, she was kissing him, he was kissing her, her clothes were torn off, and they were doing the horizontal
tango. Oh boy, she could already feel her blood warming at the thought.

New life, good. Old life, aka Nikolai, bad, very bad.

“As I said, I’m on my way out.”

His gaze traveled over her “sex on the hoof” outfit. “Is that what you wear now when you eliminate curses? Or is that what
all drivers for All Creatures wear? If that’s the case, I may have to call up and request your services.” He grinned.

She wasn’t surprised he knew about her job. Cop or lover, Nikolai had always been very good at his profession. “What are you
really trying to say, Nikolai? That you’ve come to realize the error of your ways? That you can’t live without me? Oh wait,
that’s right. You’re already dead.” She held up her forefinger to make her point.

He cocked his head to one side, gazing at her as if she was something he couldn’t fathom. “Do people truly laugh at your idea
of humor?”

“More often than not. But enough about me. Tell me what you’ve been doing— who you’ve been putting in jail when I’m not around
to arrest?”
How
many other witches you’ve seduced over the
centuries.
She so hated it when jealousy reared its ugly head.

“You have skills I need,” he said in the low voice that thrummed hot along her nerve endings.

A flash of memory slammed her brain like a freight train. A candlelit room highlighting silken sheets and tumbled pillows,
the feel of his bare skin against hers, and the incredible power of his body as they mated with the ferocity of creatures
whose survival depended on it. She ruthlessly tried to drive the tremble from her body before he noticed it, but she wasn’t
quick enough. Damn him for evoking the past with a double entendre! At least he didn’t acknowledge it or she would have snapped
the stake back into her hand without a second thought. She hated to be reminded of past failures. Nikolai was her biggest.

“I need your help, Jazz,” he persisted, totally serious.

Her heart went nearly as flat as her voice at his words. “You have a curse that needs eliminating?” Damn, he really was here
on business. How could she be crazy enough to think he was here for her? “I didn’t think your kind could be cursed.”

“Our kind is a curse,” he said quietly.

She stepped back. “Uh, look, you, of all people, know I don’t do the Buffy thing. You’ll have to go elsewhere if you want
that kind of curse eliminator.”

Nikolai smiled and shook his head. “My form of humor.”

“If that’s the case it needs serious work.” She tucked her thumbs into her pants pockets.

He inclined his head. “Then meet me at my office when you are finished with your work tonight.”

“You have an office?” she blurted out. She knew vampires owned businesses, but Nikolai had always chosen to work outside of
an office environment. He claimed he hated the idea of walls around him and the Protectorate was only too happy to give him
a free rein with his work. True, it was dusk to dawn, but he preferred actively hunting down rogue vampires instead of sitting
behind a desk filling out paperwork. He also usually managed to insinuate himself with local law enforcement, which never
failed to put a crimp in her lifestyle.

He went on, ignoring her outburst. “Yes, near the boardwalk. It’s the two-story building just before the Midway. Number 2200.
You can’t miss it. The sign reads Gregory Investigations. I go by Nick Gregory. Could you be there at one a.m.?”

“We have nothing to say to each other.”

“We have much to say if you would allow it.”

“Because of the missing vampires.”

He nodded.

“I still don’t see why you think I can help you.”

“Just because vampires are the victims this time doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen to other non-humans or even humans in the
future, too,” he told her. “All of us have some sort of power. Who says what has happened to members of my kind will not eventually
happen to witches or Dweezil’s kind or any creature that is out there? Sometimes you have to plan ahead, Jazz.”

She knew he was right.

She sighed. “All right, but you come here tomorrow evening at seven.” If they were going to talk she wanted it done on her
turf.

Nick started to take a step forward but one look from her had him remaining in place. She knew it had to be difficult for
him. Vampires were arrogant bastards, but she wasn’t having him crowd her space for anything.

“Are we going somewhere or not?” a high-pitched voice whined from inside the carriage house.

Nikolai’s head then body whipped around to face the carriage house door. He grinned as he called out, “Hello, Irma.”

“Nicky, honey!” she trilled. “Is she still giving you trouble? It’s the lack of sex in her life. It clogs up the body something
awful. I should know. After all these years I am so clogged it would take a marathon of good hot sex to clear out the pipes.
Not that I’d want Harold anywhere near me after he cheated on me, but that doesn’t stop the body from wanting some loving.
Jazz, honey, open the door so I can see Nicky.”

Jazz closed her eyes. “I so did not need the image of Mrs. Loose Lips Sink Ships having non-stop monkey sex,” she muttered.

Nick grinned at Jazz’s World War II reference to people giving away secrets.

“Let me give you a word of warning ,
Nick.
The next time you try to enter this property uninvited the wards will be set up to repel you in a very nasty way.”

She knew she was in trouble the moment the words left her lips. In the blink of an eye, Nick was standing in front of her.
So close she felt his power wash over her like a warm blanket. It would have been so easy for her to zap him back ten feet.
Instead, she breathed in the earthy scent of his skin and stared into eyes she swore belonged to another, centuries ago.

“Do not do this, Nick,” she whispered.

“We are like two magnets, Griet,” he whispered back, using the name she had shed centuries before. “When you put two sides
together they push away, but if you turn one of them around so the opposite ends face each other,” he moved even closer, “they
meet.” The words drifted across her lips just before his mouth claimed them.

There was nothing to compare to the dark smoky taste of Nikolai Gregorivich. She was forced to hold on to his waist so she
wouldn’t fall to her knees and bring him with her. She knew if that happened she would be a goner for sure. As it was, she
seriously thought about ripping his shirt off then working on those pesky jeans.

The leather bustier that took a good thirty minutes to wiggle and slither into was undone in seconds. The cool touch of his
fingers against the lower slope of her breast sent shock waves through her system. Who needed magick when Nick was around?

“I have missed the feel of your skin,” he murmured, trailing his lips across the curve of her jaw and down her throat, “the
taste of your skin.” His mouth settled near her ear.

Jazz swallowed. She knew there was no way for her to fight the sensations rolling through her. Not that she wanted to. Nick
had a way of jumpstarting her hormones.

“If I see even a flash of fang, you’re toast,” she managed to groan. “Literally.”

She felt his smile against her skin. “I would never mar such perfection. Not when I would rather taste you another way.” His
mouth moved back to hers and covered it, his tongue thrusting inside.

Images flickered behind Jazz’s eyelids. Nick’s body doing to her what his tongue was imitating now. The way he could make
her body sing. She may have been born with magick in her blood, but Nick’s magick was purely the carnal kind and she reveled
in it.

She inhaled sharply when he rolled her nipple between his fingertips.

“Such a shame to cover so much beautiful skin.” He kissed the corner of one eye. “You should be clothed only in moonlight.
Forget what you have to do tonight and come to my apartment.” His mouth moved back to her lips.

Jazz gave herself up for one more intoxicating taste. Temptation stood in front of her in a fantastic six-foot-two-inch package.

“The night will again be ours,” he whispered before uttering carnal words that had her body throbbing with an arousal that
threatened to overwhelm her senses.

And then morning will come,
the snarky gargoyle in her brain intruded. She gritted her teeth and pushed both Nick and the mental gargoyle away. The edges
of her bustier hung open, the cool night air swirling around her nipples.

“I want you to go now,” she said slowly, even though she would have preferred dragging him upstairs to her bed.

Nick’s eyes were dark with the same fervor that mesmerized her own.

“Jazz.” His voice promised what his body was fully prepared to deliver.

She shook her head. “If we have sex now you’ll decide I’m pliant and ready to hear whatever you have to say.” She fumbled
with the buttons, swore under her breath and flicked her fingertips down her front. The buttons fastened with an ease she
didn’t have when she first put it on.

“I wasn’t trying to seduce you into …”

“I know.” She refused to look at him as bitterness traveled up her throat. “Like I said before, come back tomorrow night at
seven. I promise I’ll listen to you then.”

“No fireballs?” He eyed her hands.

She so did not want to smile, but couldn’t help it.

“Only if you really piss me off.”