Witch Way Now: A Paranormal Romantic Comedy (Raising Hell Downunder Book 4)

by Rhiannon Hartley

  "Are you saying I'm not a good dancer?" Jacob pretended to be offended. "Beatrix, how could you?"

  "You just need to loosen up a bit," she wrapped her arms around his neck, guiding his hands onto her waist.

  Jacob let out a sharp breath, but he didn't falter, not for a moment. Not when Beatrix was pressing her warm body ever so lightly against his, willing him to move to the rhythm with her. It was intoxicating, and Jacob felt like he was being swallowed up by desire. He wanted nothing more than to press her tight against him, taste those pretty pink lips, and ideally, the rest of the world - the bar, his brother, the DJ - could just disappear, so it was only them.

  "See, you're not so bad at this," Beatrix whispered, her mouth so close to his own. "Though I bet Ant could get you moving better than I could."

  Jacob chuckled. "I don't want to dance with Ant, though," he murmured. "Not like this."

  "No," Beatrix breathed, her mouth so close to his own. "I guess you wouldn't." She trailed one hand through the short hair at the back of his neck, and Jacob felt his skin tingle and prickle, sparks of electricity blossoming under his skin. Goddamn it, was she trying to drive him completely crazy? He wasn't sure he minded even if she was.

  "Beatrix..." he breathed, holding her just a little closer so they were pressed chest to chest, hip to hip. He was so close to kissing her, so damn close. He could tell, somehow with absolute certainty, that she wanted him to, when—

  "Jakey, you need a drink!"

  A beer bottle was suddenly shoved between them. Tom, red-faced from dancing with his usual extreme enthusiasm, appeared. "Trixie, do you want one too?"

  Beatrix pulled back, laughing. "Uh, sure," she said, suddenly looking awkward. "It's kind of hot. I need to cool down."

  Jacob took the beer and gave his brother a glare. Tom looked back at him with a 'what did I do?' expression.

  "Yeah, you probably do," Tom guffawed. 'Getting a bit hot and heavy on the dancefloor. I haven't seen Jacob do that with a girl in a while. Hey Jakey, remember that one girl you met, the backpacker from Brazil? You nearly got thrown out of the club for what you did—"

  "Thank you for the beer, Tom," Jacob said with barely restrained irritation.

  Tom held up his hands. "I'll leave you to it!" he said, moving back into the crowd.

  "I'm going to, uh, sit down for a minute," Beatrix said, still not quite looking at him. "Get some air."

  "Yeah," Jacob agreed. "Air is...good."

  ✽✽✽

  Jacob made his way back onto the dancefloor again later, but Beatrix didn't dance with him. Not like that, anyway. The spell had broken, and maybe Beatrix had decided against doing what Jacob had been so sure she was about to. He couldn't pretend he wasn't disappointed.

  So, Jacob did the only thing he could do to mask his disappointment. He let Tom buy him tequila shots until he could barely stand.

  "I think we need to get you home," Beatrix said, putting one hand on his back as he slumped over a table.

  "I'm fine," Jacob slurred. "I'm having a great time."

  "Sure you are," Beatrix agreed. "Come on, party animal."

  Jacob wasn't entirely sure how the two of them made it out of the club and into a taxi, but he was incredibly glad of the cool leather against his heated skin and the knowledge that he didn't have to be upright any longer. He rubbed his face with his hands, feeling just how sweaty his hair had become.

  "How do you still look so perfect?" he asked Beatrix. She was slumped next to him, but her eye makeup was immaculate, and her hair just as bouncy as when the night had started.

  "Uh, because my products are literally magic?" she offered and dissolved into laughter. She was only a little less far gone than he was, he realised. "Don't worry, Jakey," she said. "You still look cute. Just a little sweaty."

  "Don't call me that," Jacob said, but he was grinning. He didn't hate Jakey quite so much when it came from her mouth.

  "I won't!" Beatrix said, suddenly serious. "It's very rude to force a nickname that someone doesn't like on them. I've had them all. Bea. Trix. Trixie. Beats, even. I don't mind Bea, but my name is Beatrix. Why is that so hard for people to say?"

  "Beats me," Jacob offered, and Beatrix began to laugh again in spite of herself.

  "Oh, you think you're funny," she said, poking him gently. "But you always call me Beatrix. I like that."

  "You like that? Does that mean you like me, too?" Jacob grinned, but his heart was beating hard and fast in his chest, a rhythm equal to any club anthem.

  "You know I do," Beatrix said quietly, looking at him with bright - if a little unfocused - eyes. "You're a good guy. You're smart. And funny. And you care about stuff. And you're really bloody handsome."

  Jacob laughed out loud, even as his stomach flipped at her words. "I sound like a catch," he said. "Why is it that you won't go out with me?" he asked, only half-joking.

  "You know why I can't go out with you," she said, and ran her fingers through his sweat-damp hair for just a moment. "Because I don't do relationships. Not serious ones, anyway. And you... You couldn't just be a fling."

  Jacob let out a breath and tried to think of something to say, but Beatrix went on.

  "If I did do relationships, well then... You'd be top of my list," she said finally and let her head drop to his shoulder.

  "But you don't."

  "That's what I promised myself," Beatrix said, her voice sounding sleepy. "But maybe... I don't know. Forever is a long time."

  "Call me if you change your mind, huh?" Jacob whispered, his body feeling warm.

  "Would you really want that?" Beatrix asked, sitting up and looking at him. "Would you want...this?"

  "Thought I had made that pretty clear," Jacob said. "You know, asking you out and all. Do you want me to ask you a few more times?"

  Beatrix laughed. "Thought you were just flirting. Didn't think you really..."

  "Oh, I do," Jacob said. "I totally do."

  "Huh," Beatrix said. She looked like she was about to say something else, but then she slumped back down onto his shoulder. Jacob didn't mind. He just wrapped one arm around her until he felt her breathing become soft and even against his throat as the taxi drove them back out to the wilderness of Shepherd's Crossing.

  ✽✽✽

  When Jacob woke up the next morning, he knew two things. The first was that he was actually dying. This was it for him. It was all over.

  The second was that he had embarrassed himself horribly the night before. He seemed to remember snatches of conversation, warm breath on his neck, and...

  He groaned and opened his eyes. He wasn't in his bed at home, which wasn't a surprise. But he wasn't in Beatrix's neat little study on the surprisingly comfortable futon with the sweet-smelling bamboo sheets, either.

  He was on the floor. He was lying on the polished concrete floor of Beatrix's living room, with his head resting on...Gumbo's dog bed. Gumbo was wrapped around his head, Prada resting on his neck. That explained why he felt like he was being suffocated, at least.

  "Oh fuck," he breathed, propping himself up to his elbows. His stomach lurched horribly, but he didn't think he'd actually throw up. He had always been able to keep his booze down, which wasn't necessarily a good thing. He really wished he had thrown up last night, at least. A tactical vomit would definitely make this morning a whole lot less horrible.

  A groan came from the sofa, and the tousled head of Beatrix suddenly appeared.

  "Why am I on the couch?" she said out loud, clearly not having spotted Jacob. "Why did you let that happen, Gumbo?"

  "Count yourself lucky," Jacob said, collapsing back down to the floor.

  "Jacob?" Beatrix looked over the end of the sofa, and she looked as bad as he felt. Except way prettier, of course. "Did you sleep in the dog bed?"

  "Kind of," he admitted. "Gumbo was nice enough to let me share."

  "I think I might actually be dying," Beatrix said, rubbing her face with her hands. "Did we drink tequila last night? I think I can st
ill taste it."

  Jacob let out a sound of pure pain. "Stupid Tom. He loves tequila."

  "And I was about to say I liked your brother," Beatrix said. "I take it all back. He's a bastard. A cruel, heartless bastard."

  "Definitely," Jacob agreed. "I need...water."

  "I've got something better," Beatrix said. "If I can just manage to get off this couch..."

  Jacob heard the sound of feet hitting the floor and watched as Beatrix lurched to the kitchen. She opened the fridge and reached right into the back, taking out two glass bottles full of a murky brown liquid.

  "What is that?" Jacob asked as she collapsed onto the floor next to him. "Magical hangover cure?"

  "That's exactly what it is," Beatrix said, passing him a bottle. "It tastes kind of like garbage mixed with cat pee, but it's worth it."

  Jacob looked at the bottle uncertainly. He had taken a lot of miracle hangover cures in his time - most of them had been either Tom or Ant's idea - and he wasn't especially hopeful as he unscrewed the lid. The smell assaulted his nostrils, making him feel like he was going to hurl all over again.

  "I can't drink this!" he complained. "This is horrible."

  "You'll feel better if you do," Beatrix said, taking the cap off her own bottle. "Bottoms up!" she toasted him with an ironic smile and began to down the sludgy looking liquid.

  Not to be outdone, Jacob took a breath and downed it as quickly as he possibly could. It tasted even worse than it smelled. His body seemed to recoil, unwilling to let something that smelled so utterly revolting into his system. But he kept swallowing, his eyes watering from the acrid aroma, and then...

  Jacob sat up, suddenly feeling as though he had slept ten hours in a real bed after an evening spent sipping soda water and playing Scrabble.

  "It worked!" he said, looking at Beatrix in surprise.

  "You sound so shocked," she chided. "What, you think I'd make you drink something like that just for fun?"

  "Well, it would be payback for all the tequila last night," Jacob said, still amazed at how utterly normal he felt.

  "You didn't force that tequila down my throat. I remember that much,' Beatrix laughed.

  "This is incredible!" Jacob said, standing up and stretching. He was still wearing last night's tight jeans and white shirt, and he knew he needed a shower, but the sudden change in his condition was nothing short of miraculous. "Why are you doing the skincare thing? You could make a fortune selling this stuff!"

  Beatrix shook her head. "This potion is for private consumption only," she said firmly. "It takes a month to brew. Besides, I don't think it would be a good thing to make a fail-safe hangover cure available to the world at large. We humans need reminding why it's such a bad idea to drink too much."

  "You're probably right," Jacob agreed. "Does it really take that long to make?"

  "Oh yeah," Beatrix said. "Wade, remember him? He sells it to corporate types sometimes. Makes a killing."

  "Damn, I didn't realise it was that valuable. That was...very generous of you."

  "Oh, Wade puts a big mark-up on it," Beatrix assured him. "But you're welcome, just the same." She smiled at him, and Jacob's chest seemed to fill with warmth. She really was lovely, he thought. Suddenly, a memory of the night before came back to him in a flash. Slurred words in the back of a taxi. What was it that she had said? That if she did do relationships, he'd be at the top of her list. Did he remember that correctly? Had she really said it?

  "I, uh, think I'll go take a shower," Jacob said, turning his face away in sudden embarrassment. "If you don't mind."

  "Just don't use all the hot water," Beatrix said. "Or I'll hex you."

  "You don't use magic on unsuspecting Ordinaries," Jacob said, grinning. "You made an oath."

  "But you're not unsuspecting anymore," Beatrix said. "You're fair game."

  Jacob smiled, but he was happy to retreat to the safety of the shower while he tried to remember just what the hell had gone on last night.

  14 Beatrix

  "You're quiet today, hun," Shauna said, looking concerned. "What's on your mind?"

  "Nothing!" Beatrix said, a little too quickly and far too highly pitched.

  "Right," Shauna sounded thoroughly unimpressed. "You look like one of my boys when I ask what they're hiding. Something's up. Out with it."

  Beatrix snuck a look over at the desk in the corner, but Jacob was on the phone and seemed thoroughly engrossed by his conversation.

  "I thought so," Shauna said, seeing the direction of her gaze. "Are you still not sleeping with that very handsome man? What's the hold up?"

  "Shhhh!" Beatrix said, looking frantically at Jacob, but he didn't seem to have heard a thing.

  "He's not listening," Shauna shrugged. "He's a man. He can't handle two conversations at once."

  Beatrix managed a laugh, but she lowered her voice. "It's...complicated."

  "What's complicated about it?" Shauna asked, hands on her hips. "I thought something might happen over the weekend, with you two going out to that bar and—"

  Shauna had clearly seen how Beatrix's cheeks flushed because she stopped abruptly in the middle of her sentence. "Something did happen, didn't it?"

  "No!" Beatrix said. Damn, too fast again. "Well, not really. Not like you're thinking. We..." She lowered her voice. "We nearly kissed."

  "And why didn't you?" Shauna demanded. "Don't tell me you don't want to. We both know that's a big lie. What are you waiting for?"

  "That wasn't all," Beatrix said. "We kind of...talked. In the taxi. I don't think he remembers, but I do. I told him about how I don't do relationships, but if I did..."

  "Oh hun!" Shauna looked delighted. "You really like him, don't you!"

  "That's the problem!" Beatrix said, sighing and setting down the very sharp scissors she was using to cut stalks of lemongrass into pieces of precisely the same length. "I do like him. But you know I don't want a relationship. So it's kind of pointless."

  "Beatrix, I know you made yourself that promise when you left home," Shauna said. "And I understand why you did it, after the way you grew up. Hell, when I finally left my asshole of an ex-husband, I told myself I'd never let another man darken my doorstep. But if I had a guy like Jacob keen on me, I'd forget that in a heartbeat."

  "Would you really?" Beatrix looked up into Shauna's ruddy-cheeked face. "Break your promise to yourself?"

  "You don't have to keep promises that stop you from being happy, Beatrix. Especially if they were a foolish promise to make in the first place. You were only eighteen when you told yourself that, weren't you?"

  "Seventeen, actually," Beatrix said with a wry smile. "It was the day before my birthday."

  "Are you really going to let a teenager dictate the rest of your life?"

  Beatrix bit her lip. Well, when Shauna put it like that...

  "You haven't even been tempted to break it before now, have you?" Shauna said, looking at Beatrix with a kind of motherly sympathy. "Doesn't that tell you that Jacob must be pretty special?" She shook her head. "And he's mad about you, of course. I saw that plain as day the first time I met him."

  "He kind of said that," Beatrix admitted, her cheeks flushing.

  "He told you how he felt, and you rejected him?" Shauna sucked in a breath. "I'm surprised he's still standing!"

  "I don't think he remembers telling me," Beatrix insisted. "Or what I said to him... I mean, we had both had a lot of tequila. And tequila isn't so great for the memory. Onyx still has that video of me performing a striptease to a Joy Division remix and I don't remember any of it. Tequila is killer."

  "Then you should tell him again," Shauna said. "Sooner rather than later. This bond can't last much longer, and you'll lose your chance."

  "I don't know," Beatrix frowned, picking up the scissors again. "I just don't know if I should."

  "You're scared," Shauna said. "I get that. This is a scary thing. But don't let your fear hold you back.

  "I'm not scared!" Beatrix protested, frowning. "Not of a
man!"

  And Shauna had the audacity to laugh out loud at that, laugh long and deep. "Oh, sweetheart," she said, wiping a tear from her eye. "Of course you're scared! You're bloody terrified! And so you should be. A real relationship? Letting someone get close to you? That's a first for you. Just think about it, okay?"

  Beatrix pursed her lips and looked back down at the lemongrass. "Thanks," she said after a moment.

  "Just think about it," Shauna said again. "Don't let him slip through your fingers, Bea. He's one of the good ones."

  And Beatrix snuck another look at Jacob in the corner, typing away on his laptop with the phone held between his shoulder and ear. Shauna was right. He was definitely one of the good ones.

  ✽✽✽

  "And so these are the projected outgoings for March," Onyx said, pointing to the screen. "If nothing changes from last month. Which it could, of course. You never know what will happen. Plague. Floods. Civil unrest. But if we're all still here, the outgoings should be the same as—"

  Beatrix was briefly saved from Onyx's doom and gloom ridden financial projections by her phone suddenly beginning to buzz aggressively, making its way across the polished timber desk with each vibration.

  "I'd better get that!" Beatrix said, picking it up gratefully. "We'll finish this later, yeah?"

  "If we're still here at all," Onyx sighed and turned the screen around to type in yet more incomprehensible formulas and make his terrifyingly accurate predictions.

  Beatrix's relief was short-lived, however, as soon as she saw the all too familiar landline flashing up over her phone screen.

  "Hi, Mum," Beatrix said. "What's up?" It wasn't their planned phone call time, and Beatrix knew it must be something pretty significant for her mother to willingly use the phone outside of that.

  "Daughter," Agnes' voice was deep and resonating with power. "How do you fare?"

  "Uh, I'm pretty good," she answered, and that was mostly the truth. She was confused as all hell about Jacob, but she was hardly going to tell her mother that.