Hex Appeal (11 page)

He picked up his bottle of beer and tipped his head back to take a hearty swallow. While he couldn't get a buzz from the alcohol, he could enjoy the taste.

“We're talking rock and a hard place for you,” he began.

“That's why I thought maybe we could all go out together and Jazz could see Leticia the way I do.”

Nick ignored the other man's hopeful expression. “Are you talking about a double date?”

Krebs nodded. “It wouldn't have to be dinner since it wouldn't be easy for you and Leticia. Maybe spend an evening at a club where we could all feel comfortable.”

Nick closed his eyes. “I'll think about it.” He held up a hand to stave off Krebs' response. “Only think. And let me give you some advice. Don't tell Jazz about meeting with Leticia until I can figure out how you can tell her and you
will
tell her.”

Krebs sighed with relief. “Thanks, man.”

“Don't thank me yet.” Nick finished his beer and started on the second bottle.

“What in the hell?” Krebs stared at the bowl of dip that was now down on the floor and disappearing at a rapid rate.

“Irma's damn dog.” Nick growled at the bear-like animal that happily barked at him.

“Ghosts can eat?” Krebs couldn't take his eyes off the chips now going the way of the dip even if he couldn't see what was consuming them.

“Apparently this one can.” Nick raised his voice. “Irma, come get your dog!”

“She went with Jazz.” Krebs fought a rapidly losing battle for his beer bottle.

A moment later, an intense stench filled the air.

“
Augh!
” He gave up the bottle and covered his nose with his hands.

“Outside now!” Nick ordered. While he didn't have the power Jazz did, he was able to give the dog a mental push toward the kitchen door where the dog flashed through in his escape to the back yard.

“That is disgusting.” Krebs's voice sounded nasal as he pinched his nostrils shut.

“Until now I have never been so glad not to have the ability of breathing,” Nick muttered, fighting to keep from laughing, but he soon gave in.

Krebs glared at him then ended up following his mirth.

“You can't say I don't provide an interesting time,” Krebs choked, heading for the kitchen and replacement beers.

Nick grinned. He liked Krebs a lot. And he could see why Jazz was protective of her friend. But he really didn't want to be around when she learned of their conversation today.

***

“Oh dear.” Jazz stared at the building that resembled a warehouse. She looked around, expecting fireworks exploding overhead and thankful to find none. She was well aware of Thea's temper when she didn't feel she was given the adoration she felt she deserved. “This is not good.”

“Will you have her sign a book for me?” Irma asked, as Jazz climbed out of the car.

“I'll pick up the audio version.”

Jazz crossed the parking lot and almost lost her balance as the stilettos cooed and abruptly turned her in the opposite direction as a man walked past her.

“Do not even think about it!” she hissed a warning then looked up at the man who knew how to wear a pair of snug jeans. “Oooh, he is cute. But you can't go chasing men.” Croc pasted a pout on her glossy lips while Delilah exhaled a pained sigh as they turned Jazz back in the correct direction.

As she walked toward the entrance, Jazz conjured up a membership card for the warehouse and walked inside. She looked around briefly then followed the signs advertising author Thea James was signing her newest historical romance.

“I loved
Be Mine Alone,
” said a woman standing in front of the cloth-draped table heaped high with hardcover books. Two poster-size reproductions of the book cover flanked each side of the table. About fifteen women stood behind the woman waiting for Thea to autograph her book. “Colin was your best hero yet.”

“Thank you.” Thea dipped her head, a smile on her red-glossed lips. Her sleek raven's-wing hair was swept up into an intricate knot with rubies displayed at her ears and around her throat. Large eyes the shade of a deep blue topaz echoed her smile. It was no wonder her red silk suit screamed power in all caps. Her manner was that of a queen receiving her due. “I was quite fond of him myself.”

So was Fiona since she was the one who fooled around with Colin back in 1787,
Jazz thought as she remained in the background in order to enjoy the show. If nothing else, Thea knew how to put on a performance worthy of a literary diva.

At one point Thea looked over and noticed Jazz. Her face lit up and she gave a quick wave of her fingers.

Once the last fan left the table, Thea jumped up, grabbed her Prada bag, and hurried over to Jazz.

“It is
so
good to see you!” She hugged her tightly. “This place is a warehouse,” she whispered.

“A lot of people shop here and it looks like a lot of your fans do too,” Jazz whispered back.

Thea drew back slightly. “I'm usually offered coffee or my favorite wine and Belgian chocolates at my signings,” she said in a low voice. “Here I was offered a Coke in a paper cup.” She wrinkled her nose. “And my publicist said this is what goes on.”

“I'm sure it's not that bad,” Jazz assured her, even as she knew her sister witch only too well.

Thea considered herself the queen of historical romance who should be treated as such.

Thea stood back and scanned Jazz from the top of her head to her toes. “You're wearing the stilettos!” she exclaimed. Croc and Delilah looked up and cooed at her. “Aren't they wonderful? The minute I saw them I knew they were meant for you. And so much nicer than those nasty slippers of yours,” she added in a low voice. Both Croc and Delilah blew out girly raspberries. “I got a pair of gorgeous dragon-skin boots when I picked these up for you.”

Jazz considered herself lucky she hadn't been the recipient of the boots. Fate knew what Fluff and Puff would have done to them. The stilettos always managed to stay out of bunny jail range. She'd even seen a hint of fear cross their faces when they were in the vicinity of the slippers.

“Well, thank you for the shoes,” she said, even as she found herself spun around and steered toward the exit. “Don't you have anything to do?”

“My time is up and I'm out of here.” Thea was a witch on a mission as they headed for the exit. “I made dinner reservations for us at a lovely restaurant the hotel concierge recommended.”

Jazz increased her pace to keep up with Thea.

“Please tell me you brought your sexy roommate's Porsche and not that ghastly Thunderbird of yours,” Thea said, just before they arrived at the car.

“I heard that! And I'm not ghastly,” Irma announced.

“Let's all be ladies here,” Jazz said, shooting a warning glance at Irma.

“Did you get the audiobook for me?” Irma asked, ignoring Thea.

“Yes,” Jazz lied, digging deep inside her bag and pulling out the package.

Thea shook her head as she pulled her cell phone out of her bag. “I'll call the limo service I use.”

“Irma can sit in the back.”

“The trunk you mean.”

Jazz wished she'd stayed home and watched the football game with Nick and Krebs even if she considered football an appalling waste of time.

“Sit, Thea,” she ordered. “Irma, in the back. What's the name and address of the restaurant?”

It was no surprise that the restaurant was elegant and catered to the wealthy. Since she knew Thea would be picking up the check, she chose all her favorites.

“How is the curse elimination business going?” Thea asked, savoring her martini. “You really should try this. It's called the Abra Cadabra.”

Jazz chuckled at the apt name. “No thanks. I'll stick with my double fudge martini.” She held up her glass. “Although I was tempted to try the Haunted Bride cocktail. I may have to come back here just to try each one of their selections. As for the business, I did end up with a fantastic designer wardrobe, shoes, and bags courtesy of breaking a curse on a Hollywood wife. She had a walk-in closet even you would envy. And I managed to help a little boy whose older sister cursed him into spitting up beetles.” She swallowed her giggle as the waiter who was approaching them abruptly made a 180-degree turn. “What about you? Are you still seeing that Italian
comte?
”

Thea shook her head. “Lorenzo is very much last year. Especially when I caught him in bed with a Russian supermodel.”

Jazz winced in sympathy. But she also knew Thea's recuperative powers when it came to the opposite sex. She bounced back pretty quickly, but if the man did Thea wrong, there was a good chance he didn't escape unscathed. Thea was considered one of Blair's best customers for revenge spells.

“Just as long as you made him suffer,” Jazz said.

Thea smiled. “He'll also make a wonderful character in a future book. Not as the hero, of course.”

“Other than Lorenzo, what's been going on with you?”

“I've been working on my new book along with handling this book tour.” A smile from Thea had the waiter instantly returning to take their order. The man was so enthralled with Thea that he didn't write a thing on the pad and Jazz wondered if they'd get the right food. “And the writing hasn't been easy lately,” she said in a low voice.

“You can't be running out of ideas yet. I thought we all had fodder to keep you going for decades.” Jazz surveyed the basket of rolls and chose one along with a pat of chilled butter.

“That's not the problem.” Thea examined her French-polished nails with more care than usual. She dredged up a smile. “Still, let's talk about you.”

Now Jazz was convinced something was wrong. Thea never asked anyone about what was going on with them. Not when she could talk about herself.

Jazz leaned slightly across the table. “I have been experiencing bad dreams,” she murmured.

“Nightmares are nothing unusual.”

“These are.” She recounted the more chilling dreams, feeling the same anxiety as she did when she woke up after the dreams. She picked up her glass and swallowed the rest of her drink, but the alcohol only intensified her unease.

Thea was quiet for a moment, tapping her fingers against the tabletop. “It sounds like your dreams are induced by magick.”

“Gee, ya think? I may not have figured it out right away, but it did come up later on. And nothing I've done has worked. No amount of cleansing, warding against dark dreams, you name it.”

“Have you done any searches to determine who cast this spell against you?” She glanced down, idly eying her broomstick charm on her ankle bracelet. It was no wonder the stone in her charm was the extremely rare and expensive red diamond.

Jazz shook her head. “Deep down I didn't want to consider someone was controlling my dreams. I preferred putting it down to eating too much junk food before bedtime.”

“Or perhaps you didn't want to think the curse eliminator could be cursed.” Thea smiled at the waiter as their salads were placed before them. She approved her choice of wine and waited until both glasses were partially filled and the waiter left them to their food. “You've had a busy time what with vanquishing Clive Reeves.” She tactfully ignored Jazz's grimace. “You have Nick back in your life and you still work for that horrid creature. If I were you, I would make a list of anyone who could have it in for you.” Her laughter was pure music. “Oh my, perhaps I should start writing thrillers. This could be exciting.” She quickly reached in her bag and pulled out her BlackBerry, quickly tapping in some notes.

“This cannot go in a book, Thea,” Jazz protested. A heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach told her it wasn't a good idea no matter what the literary witch thought.

Thea paused and saw the panic on Jazz's face. She made a face and put her phone away. “You're right. This could be something very serious. What can I do to help?”

Now Jazz was convinced this was either a crazy dream or Thea had had a partial personality transplant. She was also touched by her offer, but knew she would have to refuse. Only the victim could fight a curse leveled on a witch.

“I'd be grateful if you come up with any information on how to find the one casting the curse,” she said.

“You do know that your best bet is The Library.”

“I was hoping I could bypass that experience, thank you very much.”

“The Librarian still doesn't like you?” She correctly pronounced “the” with a long “e” as was ordained by the pompous Librarian heading the otherworld library.

“Still? He's never liked me.”

“He doesn't like anyone.” Thea waved a hand in dismissal. “He should have been retired centuries ago. The antiquated rules that allow a wizard with such an imperious nature to remain in that position are ridiculous.”

“He has friends in high places.”

“And I'm sure they're all as fusty and domineering as he is. Don't worry, sweetie, I'll help you find a way.” She reached over and patted Jazz's hand.

“Okay, this is so not you. What is going on?”

Thea concentrated on her salad. “I told you. It's just a problem with my work-in-progress. All writers go through it.”

Jazz knew better. Thea had been penning stories for hundreds of years. At first using a man's name when women weren't thought to have the mental capacity to have an imagination and later under a variety of pseudonyms as she wrote penny dreadfuls, westerns, pulp fiction, and later on, historical romance that shot her skyward in the romantic fiction genre. She also knew if Thea didn't want to divulge her problems, she wasn't going to say a word even if Eurydice, headmistress of the Witches' Academy and head of the Witches' Council, demanded an explanation. Thea's stubborn nature was as strong as Jazz's.