Hex Appeal (22 page)

“He doesn't know Dweezil very well, does he? He prefers driving others out of business.”

“No kidding. But then she said something that makes me wonder just who all knows what's going on with my nightmares. She said if I want to find out who's behind what's going on with me I need to look to the past.”

“That was her only hint?”

“I could have used a few more. Such as what decade or even what century, but she hung up before I could ask her any questions.”

“And it's not as if you haven't made your share of enemies over time.”

“Not enemies. Just people who didn't agree with me.” She eyed the southbound lanes sign. “So where are we going?”

“How does Laguna sound?”

“Nice, but if you wanted a cloudy beach we could have stayed home.”

“Not if you're looking for a sneaky Wereweasel named Willie.”

She sat up straight and turned toward him. “You found Willie? How did you find him?”

“Coby had put the word out and called me this morning that one of his people spied Willie in a Were club down in Laguna.” He made a quick zigzag around a slow moving sedan.

“Coby? I gave him my card. Why didn't he call me?”

“Don't pout,” he teased.

“It's the witch thing. He trusts a vampire more than a witch. And I'm not pouting. It's my lip plumping lip gloss.” She quickly uncrossed her arms and settled her expression in something less...pouty.

Nick grinned, but he knew better than to say anything more.

“Coby better not get cursed anytime soon, because he won't get any help from me,” she muttered returning to the comfort of her espresso. “And you
will
buy me lunch.”

“Shouldn't you be the one buying
me
lunch since I'm the one taking you to Willie, which is your problem, not mine?”

Jazz shuddered at the idea of patronizing one of the underground cafés that offered an iron-rich menu alongside one more palatable to her taste buds.

“Take me out to lunch at a restaurant of my choice and I promise you a night you will never forget.” Her fingers danced along the length of his thigh until they reached the button fly. She smiled at the hardness that grew under her fingertips.

“Deal.”

She smiled at his prompt agreement. Men were so easy!

Normally, Jazz loved browsing through the many shops and art galleries in the funky beach town of Laguna Beach. But Nick abruptly turned up a steep road framed with small colorful bungalows set on either side of a street that was so narrow it could barely accommodate vehicles going in opposite directions. She twisted in her seat looking at the picture postcard view of the ocean behind them.

“He's up here?”

“No, but I think I have a tail and if I do, I want to lose them before we reach our destination. And don't turn around either.”

“Oh please, like I don't know Super Spy 101.” She pulled down the visor then frowned. “No mirror?”

“You look fine and you look too obvious doing that anyway.” He made a quick turn up a twisty road that was even narrower than the one they had been on.

Jazz rested her head against the headrest and glanced toward the side view mirror.

“Why do they always drive those huge SUVs with heavily tinted windows? Talk about obvious.” The answer hit her as soon as she finished her question. “Since there's no reason for government authorities to be after us, it's got to be vampires. Why are they following us? Or are they following you? Okay, this just isn't acceptable. Show to me what I cannot see. Show to me who these people be. Because I said so, damn it!” She flicked her fingers over her shoulder. A shower of dark purple sparks traveled through the air until it hit the black SUV behind them. At the same time the windshield momentarily cleared showing her the driver. “Ugh! It's Reinhold.”

“I thought so. He prides himself on never losing someone he's tailing,” Nick said grimly.

“Yeah, well, his perfect record is about to be marred.” Jazz bared her teeth. She closed her eyes to better concentrate. “Big bad vamp about to get his due. Big bad vamp won't have a clue. Big bad vamp up for something dire. Big bad vamp has four flat tires. Because I said so, damn it!” This time she turned around and pushed her power toward the vehicle behind them. The moment the power hit the SUV all four tires deflated and it shuddered to a stop. She squealed with glee and clapped her hands. “I am so good.”

Nick chuckled as he sped up, making several turns before he headed back down to the Pacific Coast Highway.

“So do you guys have your own version of Triple A?”

“They'll be here soon and Reinhold will be pretty pissed off you did that.”

“I thought about seizing up the engine too, but I guess that would have ticked him off more.”

“Definitely.”

Jazz looked at the elegant hotel Nick slowed in front of. “Good place to hide the Jeep.” She allowed the parking valet to help her out.

“An even better place to hide a Wereweasel.” He climbed out and tossed the keys to the valet as he walked around the Jeep's hood. He laced his fingers through Jazz's and steered her through the lobby.

“He's hiding
here?
” She eyed the two-story high waterfall that dominated the lobby, expensively dressed women who were bleached, Botoxed, and lipoed, and the men who paid the bills. She imagined spending a long weekend here with Nick where they didn't leave their suite. The idea grew more appealing by the minute.

Nick nodded as he headed for the bank of elevators. It only took a bit of vamp power to ensure they had the elevator to themselves.

“Coby managed to obtain the suite number.”

“A suite? That scuzz is staying in a suite? I can't see him making that much more than minimum wage. How did he afford all this?” She eyed the discreet sign advertising the rooftop restaurant and its elaborate brunches along with another sign detailing spa services. Oh yes, she wanted to stay here for a while.

“I guess we'll have to ask him.”

“Since you're already dressed like the darkest of dark I guess you'll be the bad cop while I'm the good cop. For once I want to be the bad cop,” she groused.

He hugged her close to his side. “I promise not to ruin your fun. Just go for the out of control witch.”

“I can't believe he's staying here,” she muttered, feeling the plush carpet beneath her feet as they walked down the long hallway. “Someone must be footing the bill and I'd like to know who.”

Nick stopped at the suite double door. “You ready to go all witchy on his Were ass?”

Jazz thought of her precious Fluff and Puff incarcerated in bunny slipper jail. “Oh yeah.” She rapped on the door.

“Who is it?” The voice on the other side was squeaky.

“Housekeeping,” Jazz trilled, pushing her face so close to the spy hole all Willie would get was a nose and part of one cheek.

“You were already—” The door opened a crack, which allowed Nick not to have to destroy it.

“Hello, Willie,” Jazz purred, gliding into the suite with Nick on her heels. She didn't have the all-black vamp look or fangs or red eyes, but she did have a couple of aces up her sleeve. She had the resources to turn him into one nasty looking slug if she didn't get the answers she wanted. “Fancy finding you here. I wouldn't imagine you to be one for a luxury hotel. Or do you come here for the heated stone massage? It's obvious you don't make use of any exfoliation treatments.” She made a face at the tufts of dark fur that sprouted over the collar of his grimy T-shirt and covered his arms.

Willie's looks suited his Wereweasel heritage perfectly. He was a bit shorter than Jazz, small and wiry with sharp features that betrayed his feral nature. With a narrow face and black beady eyes, Willie looked every bit the weasel. His gaze darted between Jazz and Nick as he slowly backed up. When he turned to escape through another room, Nick was there before him, blocking any chance of retreat.

“I wouldn't make her any angrier if I were you,” Nick advised, keeping his stance relaxed with his hands folded in front of him. “The lady's had a rough morning and she's already done some serious damage to an SUV.”

Willie blanched. “I haven't done anything wrong.”

“Did we say you have?” Jazz wandered around the large parlor, wrinkling her nose at the piles of dirty clothing left on a chair and one end of the couch. She hoped a very big tip would be left for the maids because they deserved it if they had to deal with a disgusting slob like Willie. The wide-screen TV showed a soccer game that was thankfully muted. She paused long enough at the wet bar to fix herself a sparkling water and grabbed a bag of peanuts since she was feeling a bit peckish. No reason why Willie's benefactor shouldn't pay the high price for her snack. “Funny thing, Willie. Rex said you were dead.” She opened the peanuts and tossed a few into her mouth.

He inched his way backwards. “Really? Huh. Well, you can see I'm not.” He stopped short when he found Nick again behind him. “So you can just go.”

“Do you know what else Rex said, Willie?” She advanced on him and Nick's speed meant the sneaky Wereweasel couldn't easily escape.

“No.” He didn't take his eyes off her.

She had wished she'd worn a kick-ass outfit instead of her favorite dark purple yoga pants and matching hoody and purple leather flip-flops, but it seemed she was still able to give off the dangerous witch vibes that made Willie nervous. She pretended to examine her nails, which had black and gold sparks dancing off the tips. Willie watched them with the horrified fascination of a victim watching a deadly cobra sway back and forth in front of him before striking.

“Rex said my beloved bunny slippers ate you,” she said in a conversational tone. “Now while I admit my babies aren't as well behaved as I'd like. And yes, they have eaten more than their share in hot dogs and funnel cake in the past, we both know they wouldn't eat someone like you,” she speared him with her meanest gaze, “now, would they? I mean, no matter what, they do have their standards. So tell me, Willie, would they come after you?”

“No.” He made it sound more like a question.

“So what if one of them coughed up a button that allegedly belonged to one of your shirts.” She was so getting into this wicked witch
shtick!
“It's easy enough to plant a button somewhere. Maybe slather it with some powdered sugar or honey that would attract them.” She moved closer to Willie then stepped back a pace since he didn't smell all that great. She guessed the multi-room suite had more than one bathroom, but it seemed the Wereweasel hadn't availed himself of the tub or shower. What was it with some of the Weres and their disdain of basic hygiene? Totally gross!

“So tell me something, Willie. Why would anyone accuse Fluff and Puff of killing you, which means an automatic death sentence for them, when it turns out you're alive and living pretty well in a pricy hotel suite in Laguna Beach?” She tossed the last of the peanuts into her mouth and finished her sparkling water.

“I don't know!” He flinched when Nick planted a hand on his shoulder as Willie tried to move away from her.

“Who put you up in this suite, Willie? Who's paying the bills?” She snapped her fingers, the sparks flaring brightly in his face. He flinched and closed his eyes. “Who got you out of town so Fluff and Puff would be accused of eating you?”

“Nobody.”

“You're a very bad liar.”

“I don't have to talk to bitches like you! Ow!” He howled as Nick's hold on his shoulder tightened to the point of pain. He sank to his knees but Nick didn't let up.

“You might want to remember you're talking to a lady, Willie,” Nick said quietly. Whatever he next whispered in Willie's ear leached the last of the color from his ratlike features. “Think you can help us out?”

He tightened his lips and shook his head. There was no doubt that it wasn't just stubbornness keeping him silent. Fear was doing a good job of it too.

Nick looked at Jazz.
He might be afraid of you, but it looks like he's even more afraid of whoever put him up here.

This was one time when Nick talking inside her head was a good idea. She mentally uttered a sad farewell to the brunch offered in the rooftop restaurant.

“Okay, no more Nice Witch. You're going back with us, so we can prove to Rex that you're not dead and Fluff and Puff are off the hook.” She grabbed his wrist and pulled.

“I can't leave!” He dug his heels into the carpet, but it was so thick he merely slid as she dragged him across the room toward the door. She glared Nick an
are you going to help?
look, but he just smiled and stood with legs apart and arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Oh yes, you can. Nick, if he tries to escape again, do whatever you need to do,” she ordered, figuring he could at least do that.

“I'm serious, Jazz. I
can't
leave!” Willie bracketed her wrist with his hands in a vain attempt to free himself, but she was having none of it and just gripped him harder.

She quickly discovered the Wereweasel might be small and wiry, but he was strong. And pure unadulterated fear added to that strength.

Jazz ignored his fear and focused on getting the creature to the door. “Just move it!” she snarled, pulling so hard it was amazing she didn't dislocate his shoulder.

“Uh, Jazz.” Nick frowned as they reached the door. “Maybe—”

She slashed the air with her free hand. “No, this bastard is going with us to prove that Fluff and Puff are innocent.” She grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. “And I'm going to grind this truth right in Rex's face. With my foot if I have to!” She ended with bloodthirsty relish.

“Jazz!” Nick's warning shout was uttered a bare second before the door exploded under her hand. The three were thrown backwards, Willie's slight body tossed across the room to slam against a wall and fall to the carpet, lying there like a rag doll.