50 Ways to Hex Your Lover (25 page)

Her impulse to turn around and run as far as she could in the other direction grabbed her and held on tight.

“Good evening.”

Now there was a voice she would never forget. With Nick’s reassuring presence by her side she was able to turn around and
smile. “Our host, I believe.” Her throaty Italian accent sounded nothing like her usual voice.

Even dressed formally in black slacks and a silk cream-colored shirt instead of the casual clothing she had seen in the parking
garage, he was still a monster. All she had to do was look into eyes that held no soul, no humanity, to know she had to destroy
him before he obliterated any more. Only Nick’s slight hold on her arm kept her from drawing down whatever it took to burn
the man into the ground.

Oh, that’s him! He feels so evil!
Jazz ignored Irma’s distress that bounced around inside her head.

He smiled and sketched a shallow bow. “Clive Reeves. I don’t believe we’ve met before.” He looked from one to the other.

She held out her hand. Her razor-sharp nails matched the scarlet on her toes. When he lifted her hand she didn’t expect him
to turn it over and press a kiss into her palm. She resisted the urge to wipe her hand on her dress.

“Adelina,” she said.

His face lit up. “How appropriate. Your name means noble.”

“Rodrigo,” Nick’s normally deep voice was more baritone and Spanish in flavor.

“Charmed.” Clive sketched another bow. “We enjoy new faces here.” He glanced at their champagne flutes.

Luckily, Jazz had thought quickly enough to have the liquid resemble champagne mixed with blood before they entered the house.
But there was still something in the man’s gaze that unsettled her, especially when he took his time studying her face. She
knew her illusion spell was still holding or he would have called her out here and now.

“We have been told by ones such as Master Foul-shadow that you have the power to return our true lives to us,” she said softly.
She knew even if Tyge was questioned, he wouldn’t want to admit he didn’t know anyone as beautiful as she. His nature wouldn’t
allow it. The slime.

He frowned. “How long have you walked only at night?”

Nick moved slightly in front of Jazz. “A little over three hundred years for Adelina. Four hundred for myself.” He smiled
and ran the back of his fingers down her cheek. “The first time I saw her I knew she was meant to spend eternity with me.
But now we wish to return to our mortal lives.” His expression was the ultimate bored vampire. “After all, it isn’t as if
we can’t find someone to change us back if we so wish.” He chuckled.

Clive studied their clothing, judging cut and cost. Jazz deliberately lifted her flute, displaying a ring bearing a diamond
the size of Texas. She knew he didn’t need, nor want, money, but she had to play the part. “What I offer is not cheap.”

“Nothing of value is.” Jazz chose to speak up. “Whatever you wish, we will pay it.We are weary of only seeing the sunset and
wish to see a sunrise.”

He smiled again. “Beauty is always welcome here. And anything you wish is yours. You only have to ask. We will speak more
of your personal desires later.” He bowed again and moved on, greeting more guests.

One of the female slaves walked past, offering them both a tentative smile. Nick gave a short shake of the head. She ducked
her head and moved swiftly on.Within seconds, a vampire with glowing red eyes grasped her arm with a bruising pinch of his
fingers and led her toward a curtained alcove. Judging by the way he hungrily latched his gaze on the young woman’s revealed
breast, Jazz feared the creamy skin would soon end up in shreds at best and she would be dead at worst. But then, by the time
he finished with her, she might welcome death.

“Nothing is real here,” Jazz whispered, taking in the champagne flutes filled with a combination of blood and champagne, the
richly dressed guests and the lavishness of the mansion itself. “It’s like something out of a surreal movie where the guests
invited for dinner have no idea they could
be
dinner.”

“We should circulate.” Nick dropped his hand to hers and laced his fingers through hers.

“This is nothing new to you, is it?” While she had attended her share of preternatural parties over the centuries, she hadn’t
liked most of them. Most vampires cared for little other than themselves and instant gratification. Other preternatural creatures
were the same.

The first time she had entered this house, it was filled with mortals and she felt as if she was truly part of the human world.
By the end of the evening, she had been convinced she had faced the worst monster of all. For the next five years she slept
with the lights on and Fluff and Puff huddled by her side.

“Admittedly, my kind have one-track minds when it comes to excess,” Nick said in a low voice. “And for a time, I thought the
same as they did. I was lucky to learn excess meant nothing.”

“Good thing. You can make sure I don’t make any mistakes, like throwing a few fireballs around here.” She averted her gaze
from a lovely female vampire falling to her knees before one of the male servers and unzipping his pants. Jazz really hoped
Madame fanged-and-lovely wasn’t about to literally gobble him up.

Is she doing what I think she’s doing?
Jazz guessed Irma would have a full education before the evening was over.

“A well crafted staircase,” Nick commented, guiding her to the front of the house before her distaste was revealed to others.
Keep your cover
he deliberately murmured inside her head.
We’ve come too far
now.
“This is the style I wish for our home, darling.”

“Yes, it would work well, wouldn’t it?” she replied, keeping to her persona. She noted the silk cushioned couches and chairs,
highly polished tables, and elegant chandeliers. “Lovely.” She paused to admire one of the chandeliers brilliant with candlelight.

“I purchased the chandelier from a seventeenth-century castle in England.” Clive walked up to them. The contents of his champagne
flute were a darker, richer color than many of the other glasses around. “The duke who owned it didn’t want to give it up,
but I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse,” he said, with a smile that was positively chilling.

Jazz didn’t want to think what the exact contents of his flute were or what kind of offer he made the duke.

“You have excellent taste.” Jazz forced a smile as she raised her flute to her lips. She was glad it tasted like cherry Kool-Aid
instead of the alternative. “It reminds me of our own estate just outside of Paris.”

He stared at her, visually stripping her gown from her body and finding her to be everything he would want in a woman. The
need for a long hot shower with lots and lots of soap came to mind. “Still, I wonder why you are here. Ones as young as the
two of you generally prefer keeping your lifestyle.”

“We told you why,” she said bluntly, ignoring Nick’s tension. “Plus we were told you welcome vampires. Is that not true?”

“Yes, but as I said admittance is by invitation only. And the one you arrived with doesn’t remember you.” His smile turned
deadly.

Jazz and Nick looked over his shoulder to see Tyge standing by a small mahogany table. Gold coins were scattered across the
highly polished surface.

“The bas—” Jazz’s words froze in her throat as Clive whipped a hand up, a large polished crystal nestled in his palm. The
power glimmered across the surface.

Jazz and Nick stared at the crystal, seeing their true selves dressed in their black clothing instead of the formal wear Jazz
had conjured up.

“Did you not think I wouldn’t take precautions against unwanted guests?” Clive asked, a cruel smile tipping his lips. “Although,
I must say I do prefer the lovely gown you’re wearing, Jazz. It shows you at your best.” His gaze fastened on her breasts.

“Your precautions are traitors who value gold over morals. How charming,” she drawled.

“Nikolai.” Clive turned to Nick. “It is nice to see you again. A friend of yours was here not long ago. We had an interesting
chat before …” his voice trailed off meaningfully.

Nick was professional enough not to react. “I have many friends.”

“Yes, I’m sure you have, but how many of those friends served the great Roman Empire?” Clive asked.

Jazz felt Nick’s hand tighten on hers until she feared the bones would be ground to dust.

She felt chilled to the bone as she stared at her enemy’s face. He was enjoying their battles to mask their emotions. If it
hadn’t been for Nick standing next to her, she knew she would have unleashed the mother of all spells.

“Don’t be so sure about that, Jazz,” Clive said, reading her thoughts and intentions easily. “I have dealt with beings you
cannot even imagine. With a word I could strip that lovely flesh from your hide before you could blink an eye. You would still
be alive but feel pain you could never imagine. You would beg for death and I would only refuse to give you that release.
I could also have you on your knees before me doing what I’m sure you do best. Don’t even think about it, vampire.” His icy
stare whipped to Nick who took a step forward. “Because then I would be forced to get even more creative to the point where
you would watch your lovely witch die a very slow and extremely painful death.”

“You won’t kill her, Reeves,” Nick said, his tone and manner just as cold and deadly as Clive’s, if not more, “because she’s
your card to my cooperation, and the only way you have any hope of remaining in one piece.”

“Oh, you will cooperate, vampire.” Clive nodded to the men who had silently surrounded the couple.

Jazz felt the buzz of power begin at her feet and move upward. She turned to Nick and saw by his expression he also felt the
magickal bonds tighten around him.

What is going on?
Irma shrieked inside her head. Before Jazz could mouth Nick’s name, her world turned black and she was lost in a void of
nothingness.

Eighteen

Apounding headache let Jazz know she was still alive. The chill in the air told her she was no longer in the house proper
and cold damp stones against her back alerted her to a serious lack of clothing except for some heavy iron circling her wrists.

She blinked several times to clear her vision. Her first glance warned her that this was not good.

“Don’t tell me,” she muttered, looking around to get a better view of her surroundings that looked like something out of a
movie set. “What did he do? Channel Vincent Price and transport the Tower of London to the Hollywood Hills?” She tested the
manacles circling her wrists, but the heavy chain secured to the wall high above her head forced her to remain up on her tiptoes.
She tried to wiggle away from the wall, but the heavy chains weren’t long enough to allow her much room. “The bastard couldn’t
even leave me my clothes.”

“Do you hear me complaining?”

She craned her neck to find the source of the weak voice. What she saw chilled her clear to the bone. Nick was also naked,
lying on a stone altar set in the center of the room. Heavy chains had been crisscrossed across his body to prevent any movement.
Even if there were no burns apparent on his skin, she feared there was enough silver embedded in the metal to weaken him beyond
the point of any resistance. An obsidian bowl and matching goblet sat on a table next to the altar. She wasn’t sure exactly
what would happen once Clive arrived, but she had an idea it wouldn’t be good. The rack dominating one end of the chamber
looked much too authentic to merely be part of the décor and she was positive the rust-colored stains on the wood were blood.
The same stains were visible on whips and various implements of torture that hung on a nearby wall. Her gaze swept the chamber,
mentally cataloguing everything she saw. She wasn’t sure what upset her more, the evidence the implements were well used or
the huge embroidered tapestry hanging on one wall that detailed writhing and screaming victims tortured in unimaginable ways.
She could feel power emanating from the tapestry as if what had happened in this dungeon was transferred into the tapestry
as a permanent reminder. Her stomach plummeted at the thought she and Nick could end up as new portraits. Seventy-five years
ago, she had learned just what a sick bastard Clive Reeves was. She saw that the man had only turned even more evil over the
years. She dug deep, working to summon her power, but felt nothing.

“Damn it!” she swore, fighting the imprisoning chains.

“What’s wrong?” Nick asked.

“There’s something in here that won’t allow me to tap into my power. He must have magick-dampening shields buried in the walls
or something.” She mentally searched for any hint of Irma inside her head but found only silence. “I can’t even contact Irma.
The one time I want to talk to that woman and I can’t reach her!” If she hadn’t been standing on her toes she would have stamped
her foot in indignation.

The sound of a heavy wooden door creaking open sounded from above.

“We have company,” Nick murmured.

Jazz looked around at the torture implements and bloodstained stone floor. “It better be the maid, because this place needs
serious cleaning up.”

“Good, you’re both awake.” Clive descended the stone steps wearing a black silk ankle-length robe and carrying a crystal wineglass
in one hand.

Jazz noticed the symbols embroidered on the hem of the robe echoed those on the bowl and goblet. Only a few were familiar
to her and those had to do with baneful magick.

Nope, not good at all.

“Your illusion spell was very clever, my dear, but I much prefer your true beauty.” Clive approached her and reached out to
stroke the line of her jaw. She snapped her head back before he could touch her and refused to wince when the back of her
head connected with the wall. He smiled as if he expected her rejection, but she didn’t miss the fury simmering in his dark
eyes. Fury mixed with lust was not a good thing. “I believe you have grown even more beautiful than the last time I saw you,”
he said.

“Gee, Clive, you’d think we were upstairs partying away instead of our being buried deep within the bowels of your house in
a dungeon straight out of one of your totally grade-B movies,” Jazz said sarcastically, silently patting herself on the back
for the less-than-subtle slur about Clive’s movies. Judging by the tightening of his cheekbones, he got it. She’d mention
she won the point for zingers, but she had a good idea he wouldn’t take that well either. Plus, she wasn’t exactly in a good
place here.

While her skin crawled in reaction to the way he stared at her naked body as if she was a Thanksgiving feast on a silver platter,
she didn’t allow her thoughts to surface. She felt the dark power rolling off his body as it snaked around her like an icy
cold wrap that penetrated her to the bone. She bit back her snarl when she noticed he was staring at her breasts, the nipples
now rosy pebbles from the cold.

He and Tyge make a perfect pair.

“You know, I thought you were repugnant in 1932. I see my loathing back then was an understatement.”

His features tightened to a mask that cracked just enough to reveal even more layers of the soulless insanity that resided
inside. “Exactly how old are you, my dear?”

She stared deep into his eyes, looking at evil and madness in the black depths. Sickness and malevolence had overtaken an
already forbidding soul, where years ago she had seen a faint hint of humanity. Now there was nothing left but a shell of
the real man.

She wanted to crush that shell until there was nothing left.

“I am old enough to grind your bones to dust,” she said levelly, digging deep within her very self for whatever hint of power
might linger within her. She refused to believe there was nothing she could draw upon.

Clive chuckled as if she was a small child saying something clever. “Amusing, but we aren’t talking about a child’s fairy
tale. I sense your power, witch, but what I have inside of me is more potent than anything you can imagine. With just a thought
I can squash you like a bug,” he bragged. “You thought you killed me once, but you didn’t succeed. And now it comes to this.”
His eyes lingered on the chains.

She refused to give in to her terror over what he was obviously thinking. She would not.
Could
not. “This time I will make sure you are so dead you won’t even be able to come back as a goldfish,” Jazz said softly, with
a menace that equaled his.

He half-turned and studied the resolve in her features, the ferocious fire that flared to life in her eyes as she stared back
with no hint of the fear.

Just as swiftly his hand lashed out and she felt the sting across her face turn into a burn where he’d struck her. She refused
to take her eyes from him as she spat blood from her mouth. She couldn’t look at Nick as she heard his roar of fury.

“I believe you would, Jazz.” Clive chuckled. “That is why I decided I would rather keep you alive as my pet. You have no idea
of the untapped power within you. Power I can use. And perhaps, if you had some time to think about it, you would decide it
would be more beneficial to be with me. There’s no reason why we couldn’t come to an arrangement suitable for the two of us.”

“At the moment, I can’t think of a totally witty response to such a disgusting proposition, but I can come up with something
fitting. Eat shit and die.” She added a smile to boost the insult even as moving her mouth hurt like hell. She was positive
her lips were going to be puffier than any collagen injection could provide.

But Jazz wasn’t through. She fought through the pain in her face and continued to mentally dig down deep, looking for any
hint of magick that could help her and Nick out of this situation. A mental push to search for Irma only managed to push painfully
back at her. Somehow Clive had managed not only to dampen all magick down here but he had also found a way to punish anyone
who tried to use their power. So now she had a headache along with the burning pain on her face.

She glanced past him at Nick and saw that the silver she suspected was in the chains was a fact. Faint burn marks now traveled
up his body. She could see his strength was rapidly draining. His jaw was tight as he fought the pain taking over his body.

PlanAwas no longer an option, and Plan B had to also be tossed, so she’d have to move to Plan C.

There was only one problem. They hadn’t thought to come up with a Plan C.

“Don’t be sad, Jazz,” Clive murmured, opening a secret cabinet below the altar and reaching inside.

“Once I have drunk your vampire lover’s life force, I will have all that is his and you as my lovely pet. A man couldn’t
ask for anything more.” He brought out a tube and IV needle. With a motion of long practice, he inserted the needle into Nick’s
wrist and blood dripped slowly down the tube and into the ceremonial bowl.

“Except you do not kill us, you bastard! You turn our kind into shades doomed to walk the earth and never have any peace.”
Nick flashed his fangs as he fought against the chains, but his strength was greatly diminished between the embedded silver
and the blood exiting his vein. “No wonder you never leave the mansion. If you walked out the door you would have to face
all of those who wander your grounds for eternity. That’s why you learned astral projection. It was the only way you could
leave here without encountering your victims.”

If Jazz’s gaze hadn’t been centered on Clive she would have missed the flicker of fear cross his face and the way his hands
hesitated in his tasks. She was pleased to know Nick had touched a nerve. Clive quickly regained his composure and turned
to her. His expression wasn’t so pleasant now.

“I have no reason to leave my beautiful house. Everything I require is here and I have staff to bring me whatever I need.
Such as you.” He walked over and roughly gripped Jazz’s face and brought it around to him. She knew if she struggled he would
snap her neck just because he could. For the time being, she vowed not to fight him, even if she knew it was a short-lived
promise.

Except what Clive had in mind turned out to be more unpleasant than breaking her neck. His mouth savaged hers; he started
biting and licking her lips and face like a ravenous dog. At the same time, he grabbed a breast and squeezed hard enough to
leave bruises on her delicate skin. She held back a scream of pain and fury when he lowered his head and bit down on her nipple.
She pulled on her manacles, but they were drawn up too short for her to slam the heavy chains down on his head.

“I will kill you for that!” Nick shouted, rearing up then falling back.

“Gross!” she spat out, while wishing for a large bottle of disinfectant to destroy the taste in her mouth when the monster
finally pulled away.

Clive smiled cruelly. “That is only the first, my pet And I do mean
pet
,” he stated. “Because I intend to keep you naked and on a leash and you will do what I wish, when I wish, and for as long
as I wish, and
if
you comply with my wishes, I just might decide to keep your vampire alive … for awhile.” He walked over and pinched the tube
closed. The blood stopped dripping into the bowl. He watched Jazz’s face as he released the tube. The blood began dripping
steadily into the bowl again. “It is your choice. Plus, I do admit the idea of keeping him on eternal tap is a lovely idea.”

“She won’t agree to it because I won’t allow it,” Nick shouted. “There is no reason for you to think you can achieve your
goal by using my blood when you’ve drained so many and not succeeded. We are not food, human.” His face had become that of
a stone-cold soulless predator.

“I am no longer human, vampire. And I will be successful. Not long ago you and the witch not only fucked, but your shared
power managed to create something new.” He smiled at the shock on Jazz’s face. “Oh yes, I have seen the two of you together
and it was stimulating.” He briefly touched himself, idly stroking his cock. “The shared power means that what she has is
within you and vice versa. So by ingesting the essence of you both, mingling blood and sex, so to speak,” his smiled widened,
“I have the best of both worlds. By keeping you alive, vampire, I can have my elixir any time I wish. And by keeping Jazz
around, I ensure your compliance—just as she will obey me to keep you alive. The two of you may claim you will only think
of yourselves, but I know better.”

So someone had been watching them make love that night. Jazz felt sick inside. She thought of the slaves he laughingly called
staff who worked upstairs. She knew they were all slaves to his every whim. What they endured because of this creature and
how he allowed the guests to have their way with them, biting, shredding of skin, and worse. A hickey from Clive would be
minor compared to what his guests did to the poor unfortunates upstairs. She knew she would kill him before he would touch
her again. She met Nick’s gaze and saw the pain and sorrow in his eyes. She feared before too long he would be too weak to
resist whatever ghoulish procedures Clive might think up next.

Do what it takes, love.

For once she wasn’t going to complain about his entering her head.

He’s going to die for good this time, Nick.

I never doubted it.

Nick’s confidence in her was just what she needed right now. Along with a way to get Clive’s attention no matter how much
it hurt her. She looked around the chamber, looking for anything that what would startle him. When her gaze reached the tapestry
she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She finally found a tiny speck of power buried deep within her. She nurtured it
the way she’d nurse a weak flame. The moment she felt the flicker grow, she opened her eyes and focused on the tapestry. It
was a chance she had to take, no matter what.

Just do it, Jazz.

“Images I see. Images that hide,” she shouted at the top of her lungs even as she felt the suffocating pressure build up inside
her brain. “Images reveal to us what is beyond! Reveal because, damn it, I say so!” At that second, she pushed every ounce
of that fledgling power toward the heavy fabric. Her vision momentarily clouded as whatever dampened her magick tried to punish
her with waves of pain that screamed along her nerve endings, but she fought back just as hard. A heavy blast of cold air
raced through the chamber, chilling Jazz to the bone before it struck the tapestry, the heavy fabric flapping in the wind
as if it were nothing but paper. A moment later, the sound of the aged material tearing down the center echoed throughout
the dungeon. Screams from within the cloth bounced around the room, sending more waves of chilled air as spirits escaped their
textile prison. Just as Jazz thought, victims had been held captive there also.