50 Ways to Hex Your Lover (13 page)

“A few days ago I would have accused you of setting the cops on Dweezil to get even with me,” she murmured.

“You know better than that, Jazz. I don’t use third parties to achieve my goal.” For a moment his eyes seemed to glow with
the same life as the moonstones in her jewelry. “I’m a very direct person.”

“Yes, I know, and the thought faded as soon as it bloomed.” She purposely tried to forget the last two times they were together.
Recalling his kisses tended to make her mind wander into forbidden areas.

He blew out a breath and looked around the parking lot. “I suppose now you will put me off for tonight. Tell me something,
what will your excuse be tomorrow night? A headache?”

Jazz’s snarl was worthy of his.

“Just do whatever he says, honey, so we can go home,” Irma whined. “I don’t want to miss
House,
M.D.
”

Jazz blamed the turmoil bubbling away in the pit of her stomach on not eating anything for most of the day and drinking bad
coffee while waiting for the Sam Spade wannabe to get to the point.

“You won’t be coming by my office tonight, will you?” He gave away none of his feelings.

“I have to prepare for my trip to Moonstone Lake,” she said, not looking at him. “And right now, I have to get her highness
home for her Hugh Laurie fix.”

Nick straightened up to allow her to get into her car. Once she was settled behind the wheel, he closed the door and leaned
down.

“You can’t ignore this in hopes it will go away, Jazz,” he said. He leaned in and brushed a light kiss across her lips.

A few days ago, Jazz would have seriously thought about zapping him again even if it meant an additional sixty days tacked
on to her punishment. Right now, she only resisted the urge to touch her tingling lips.

“Come on, Nicky, we can squeeze in together!” Irma chirped up.

He looked up and grinned as the ghost shifted over in the seat an additional inch or so.

“I’m fine, Irma.” He looked back down at Jazz. A heat flared in his eyes that she felt clear down to her toes. Luckily, before
she could do something stupid, like drag him into the car, he looked at Irma, blew her a kiss, turned, and walked off.

“You didn’t have to be so rude to him,” Irma sniffed. “It doesn’t take you all that long to pack for that trip up to the lake.”

Jazz started up the car and put it into gear. “I thought you wanted to get home to see
House,
M.D.?
” She took a quick look around, but as expected, Nick was nowhere in sight.

She told herself that she wasn’t going to be able to put Nick off forever. It wouldn’t solve a thing. Still, helping him would
give her the chance to settle things between them and, as he said, she would face her past. If she could face Clive Reeves
and not want to kill him, she was sure that action alone would take a hell of a lot more than sixty days off her banishment.
More importantly, she would feel whole for the first time in a long time.

Fine, she would talk to him when she got back.

Then she would tell Nick it was best they never see each other again. She needed to tell him there could never be anything
between them.

She looked down the length of her nose. She was positive it had just grown a fraction of an inch.

Nine

Moonstone Lake

The First Night of the FullMoon

The three women wore pale blue robes that moved with the night breeze as they walked along the lake’s edge until they reached
a flat-topped boulder that jutted out over the water. They walked with sure-footed grace along the length of the large stone’s
surface until they stood on the tip of the rock. They presented an ethereal picture as the full moon cast silver rays over
them.

“May our sanctuary provide us with continued protection and strength,” Stasia Romanov intoned, taking multi-colored dust out
of a gold mesh bag and sprinkling it over the water. The breeze caught up strands of her sunny brown hair, giving them a life
of their own.

“May our sanctuary give us sustenance and nurture us.” Blair Fitzpatrick followed with a pinch of silvery dust. Her own darker
brown hair with auburn lights displayed the same sense of life.

Jazz was last with her copper hair hanging past her shoulders in loose waves. “During this full moon we ask that our sanctuary
always be there for us in our time of need.” She opened her bag with its dust spilling forth the color of creamy pearls. As
it touched the water, the color of the lake turned the rare translucent color of a moonstone, which echoed in the gemstone
pendant each woman wore. At that moment, all three women’s moonstone pendants and rings glowed bright. When a star shot across
the velvety night sky, the three women looked at each other and burst into joyous laughter.

“And thank you for making sure the lake monster didn’t rise up and eat us!” Jazz shouted across the shimmering water as she
spun in a tight circle.

“That’s right, Jazz, encourage it to seek out a late night snack,” Blair chided her.

As they later retraced their path along the lake’s edge, Stasia looked out over the water. A faint ripple appeared in the
center, the watery rings moving in ever-increasing circles toward the water’s edge.

“Do you think it’s true?” she asked.

“What’s true? That we have a monster living in the lake?” Blair followed her gaze. “You’ve been reading too many of those
fantasy romances you sell, Stasi. All you’ll find out there are fish, pieces of broken boats, and miles of snarled fishing
lines caught in the weeds.”

“That doesn’t mean there isn’t something living in the lake,” Jazz said, pausing to look out over the lake, which now remained
quiet other than a few lingering ripples. “Has there ever been a sighting of anything strange and unusual?”

Stasi shook her head. “High school kids like to come out here at midnight and claim they see a creature’s head pop up in the
water, but nothing has ever been verified, so everyone assumes they’d been drinking or something.”

“At least no one comes out on the nights of the full moon. If they knew we were out here and why, they would probably expect
us to be dancing naked around a bonfire,” Blair joked.

“Oh right, on a night like this?” Jazz groused, shivering under her thin robe. “It’s got to be twenty degrees. I’ve got long
underwear on and I’m still cold!”

The other two laughed and bumped shoulders companionably as they hurried along. They didn’t notice the faint outline of a
scale-covered head popping out of the water and looking in their direction.

Following their own time-honored custom, the women arose to watch the sun greet them with colors of red, orange, and gold.
This way they enjoyed the early morning hours together before Jazz returned to her city life.

When Stasi and Blair stumbled onto Moonstone Lake in 1854, the mining town was aptly named Last Chance. It slowly died when
the mines played out and some residents moved on in search of wealth, while others remained because they desired stability.
Stasi and Blair stayed, working as waitresses in the small café and eventually purchasing it. By the time they left the town,
claiming family matters, they also owned the building the café was housed in. Over the years, Stasi and Blair took turns returning
as a granddaughter or grandniece to make sure the building was kept up for the times they wished to return.

Two years ago, they decided to return to the small town where they renovated the building and opened businesses to cater to
the tourists who stopped off on their way to the ski resorts further up the mountain. They also joked they were there to watch
over the lake and the mystical monster that supposedly inhabited it. Stasi and Blair took it one step further by sprinkling
“not interested” spells throughout the forest that partially surrounded the town. Many developers had visited the area with
thoughts of building resorts there, but they always left deciding it wasn’t for them. But since the two women were also aware
there could always be someone who might slip under the spell’s radar, they took further precautions by purchasing the land
around the lake under a false corporation’s name. This was their own little paradise, and they intended to keep it that way.

For now, Stasi enjoyed running her lingerie boutique that also offered romance novels, while Blair utilized her playful side
with a shop specializing in retro—whether it was a Madame Alexander doll from the 1940s, chrome tables from the 1950s, or
tie dye clothing from the 1960s. It was easy for Blair to keep a varied inventory when every sister witch had storage units
all over the country filled with personal treasures and liked to clean them out every so often.

During the winter, the town was busy with tourists heading up the mountain to the various ski resorts, while the summer season
attracted trout fishermen and hikers.

Stasi and Blair never lacked for male company if they so wished, but out of self-preservation they kept their secrets close
and deliberately cultivated no long-term relationships. Jazz came up every month for the moon ceremony along with any witch
who might be in the area. For the last few months, it had only been the three visiting the lake the first night of the full
moon.

Each holding their morning macchiatos, the three sat in comfortable chairs on the building’s flat-topped roof, a pair of binoculars
within reach on a nearby table.

As Jazz related the events of the past few weeks, she prepared herself for the worst when she mentioned Nick’s name. She wasn’t
disappointed.

“Wait a minute. You used witchflame and missed him? Girlfriend, you have lost your touch if that happened.” Blair shook her
head. “The fangy sleaze at least deserved singed eyebrows.”

“Except he’d end up looking more like a sparkler on the Fourth of July than a man with no eyebrows,” Stasi said softly. “Vampires
and fire don’t go together very well.”

“There are ways,” Blair pointed out. As one gifted with some pretty nifty revenge spells, she should know. “Do you want some
help cooking something up?”

“No, thanks, right now we sort of need each other,” Jazz admitted reluctantly, although the idea of picking up a few revenge
spells from Blair was a good idea. She wished she hadn’t mentioned Nick’s return to Stasi and Blair. Now that they knew he
was back in her life, they would demand all the gory details. They knew something bad had happened to her back in 1932, but
she had never told them the whole story. That was a night she preferred not to discuss with anyone, not even those closest
to her.

“I guess I don’t need to ask you if Nick has changed,” Stasia said with her gentle smile. “He’s still gorgeous and all coplike,
right?”

“I don’t think he would change much even if he wasn’t a vampire,” Jazz said, sipping her macchiato. “His wardrobe is more
updated, but he’s still a cop at heart—even if he left the Protectorate.”

“You are kidding! I thought he was surgically grafted to that group. Darth Vader with fangs.” Blair snickered. “
Nick, I am your destiny,
” she intoned in a deep voice that had the other two laughing.

“Great, now I snorted my macchiato!” Jazz wheezed, rocking back and forth in her chair, accepting the handkerchief the always-prepared
Stasi carried on her person.

“We had a
Star Wars
marathon a couple weeks ago. Easy to think Vader when you’ve seen him in four movies,” Blair explained.

“Ha! Don’t believe her. She was too busy ogling Han Solo in those tight breeches,” Stasi teased.

Jazz looked at her sister witches and felt warm and soothed. She had needed this. She needed the ceremony at the lake to center
herself and her power, and she needed to be with those closest to her for emotional centering.

She liked to act the part of scary witch or smart-ass witch, but here, she could be herself. A witch who was still in the
process of finding her true self. Who knew? She might even impress the Witches’ High Council so much they would lift her banishment.
Yeah, that’ll happen. The same day the earth rotates in the opposite direction.

She stared out over the wooded area and thought of a life beyond that of an outcast witch.

But then what would I do?

“Come on, Jazz. Give us small town girls news of the big city.” Blair’s words drew her back to the present. “How is sexy Krebs
doing? You need to bring him up here again.”

Jazz smiled. “He’s still designing websites for the Undead and recently set one up for a jazz club that caters to weres.”
She went on to talk about her own latest clients. Stasi and Blair laughed at her story of the college girls turning the school
jocks into pigs and begged for more stories.

“There was a very nice woman who needed to be rid of a curse placed on her by an ex-boyfriend,” Jazz said. “He was convinced
she made a major mistake in breaking up with him and he set up a curse where she saw his image in any man she dated. He was
convinced this would bring her back to him.”

“That’s just sick!” Blair sputtered.

Jazz nodded. “It wasn’t long before her nerves were shot to hell. She took a leave of absence from her job and hid out in
her apartment. Luckily, a friend of hers knew about me and called. The poor woman was almost physically ill from the stress.”
Her delicate features darkened with the memory.

“That’s not love. That’s disgusting.” Stasi shuddered.

Jazz agreed. “I could feel his obsession tainting everything, as if he’d come into her apartment and coated the walls. I think
that’s what was making her ill. So I decided he needed a taste of his own medicine.” She grinned.

“Good!” Blair shouted, saluting with her macchiato cup. “Warts, boils, or oozing sores?”

Jazz shook her head. “Every time he looks at her, he feels something dark and nasty hovering nearby. It isn’t anything he
can see. Just that sense of something there. It will wear off in about six months and I think by then he won’t even be able
to think of her with affection. My own brand of aversion therapy.”

“People have no idea what harm can be done in the name of passion,” Stasi said. “Love shouldn’t be binding but freeing.”

“Says the resident romantic,” Blair teased.

“That’s why we love Stasi.” Jazz smiled warmly at the woman she considered closer to her than blood. “Yet, what some think
are curses turn out to have nothing to do with magick. One man was convinced his dog was cursed because the dog constantly
chewed up his clothing and shoes and even pretty much destroyed his furniture. He said his wife had a curse put on the dog
because he won custody of the animal in their divorce. Turned out that wasn’t it at all. The dog was just stressed out about
the divorce and they needed more quality time together.”

“Canines are so easy to understand—almost human,” Blair mused.

“Yeah, this was a sweet little pup. Except his idiot owner didn’t think he’d need to pay me since there wasn’t a curse to
eliminate. I explained to him what would happen if he didn’t and he happily ponied up.” Jazz grinned.

Stasi idly turned the pages of the latest
Allure
magazine. “We wish you would come up here to live, Jazz. It isn’t as if there’s not enough room here for you.”

“I’m happy in L.A. Between the curse elimination and driving for Dweezil, I keep busy.” Jazz straightened out her jean-clad
legs. Wearing black high-heeled boots, black slim cut jeans, an emerald green silk t-shirt and a black leather jacket along
with a black Stetson shading her eyes; she looked like a sexy version of the Marlboro woman. She would have preferred wearing
Fluff and Puff, but her slippers were banned from Moonstone Lake since an unfortunate episode with a squirrel.

“I don’t know how you can be happy working for that ghastly man.” Blair shuddered.

“Dweezil might be disgusting and …”

“Scary looking,” Stasi added.

“And a total perv.” Blair’s lip curled.

“Not to mention having a third arm and second dick,” Jazz reflected to a double set of shrieks. “But he does pay well.”

“He should.” Stasi pulled her legs up onto the chair so she could wrap her arms around her knees. Her skirt drifted down over
her legs. “By working for him you have to drive all those disgusting creatures.”

“Someone has to do it and I’m better qualified than most.” She sipped her triple mocha macchiato thoughtfully. “Some of them
even tip well.”

“Considering what they look, and smell, like they should.” Stasi wrinkled her nose. “You even have to drive that disgusting
creature who requires a special car.”

Jazz nodded. “Tyge Foulshadow is about as gross as you can get.”

“Foul everything from what you’ve told us,” Blair said.

“The man farts smells that are unimaginable and in color, no less. The air recirculation system in the limo is top of the
line, but my clothes still end up stinking like something horrible. Dweezil likes to remind me that the gas won’t hurt me,
but he forgets I can still smell it.” She mimicked a gagging sound. “At least he’s a big tipper. He sort of reminds me of
the Earl of Brambleton.” All three women shuddered at the memory of the man who was the cause of their banishment.

“For a member of royalty he was beyond repulsive. He never bathed, there were bugs in his beard and hair.” Blair wrapped her
hands around her macchiato to keep them warm in the chilly morning air.

“That was nothing unusual back then. As I recall, we weren’t into baths all that much either until we entered the school.”
Stasi propped her feet up on the railing and studied her toenails while looking at a magazine lying open in her lap. She waved
her hand across her toes. The bright pink nail polish promptly disappeared. She looked down at her magazine, touched a nail
polish bottle in an ad and in turn touched each of her toenails, promptly coloring them a rich shade of coral that matched
the squiggly design on her knee-length flirty skirt and her coral sweater. An intricate gold chain circled one ankle, a tiny
broom hanging from it. The same anklet graced Blair and Jazz’s ankles at all times, except hers displayed a creamy pearl while
Jazz’s sported a deep purple amethyst and Blair’s a rich blue topaz.