Hex Appeal

by Linda Wisdom

  She didn’t bother brushing her teeth or washing her face. In her frame of mind, she didn’t want to look at her disgusting self in the mirror and she didn’t care who she might offend with halitosis or gross out with her bad skin. Without even undressing, she crawled into bed and pulled the covers over her head.

  “With my bad luck I’ll dream I’m married to Dweezil and we have three million little Dweezils.” She choked on her words.

  As she drifted off into a self-induced tortured sleep, breathy words laced with a hint of evil laughter floated through her head.

  You’re not as invincible as you thought you were, are you, little witch bitch? What a shame I couldn’t make your time of mortality last longer, but I hope you enjoyed your adventure. But don’t be too complacent, my dear. There’s no reason why it can’t happen again. And next time your new adventure could last forever.

  ***

  An eardrum-piercing scream from upstairs was their first warning.

  Stasi sighed as she poured herself coffee and topped off Blair and Krebs’ cups before sitting down at the table. Syrup-drizzled waffles sat in front of each of them. “Oh dear, it’s gotten worse.”

  “I don’t even want to think how much worse it could be.” Blair shuddered.

  “You two have it easy. I have to live with her. Unless you want to take her back with you. Maybe it would be a good idea for her to get out of L.A.” Krebs looked ready to bolt from the room.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Blair warned him, easily guessing his thoughts. “I’m more than ready to make sure you can’t leave that chair. And she’s not leaving here until this virus or spell or whatever it is is broken.”

  Krebs half stood up to make sure Blair hadn’t followed through on her threat. Seeing her expression, he dropped back down in his chair and returned to his breakfast.

  “I’m back! I’m back!” Jazz raced down the stairs with the speed and noise of a toddler heading for a loaded Christmas tree. She danced into the kitchen with that same type of energy. “Cup to me!” she sang out, giggling when her Wicked cup floated toward her. She held the cup high in a victory motion while dancing around on her tiptoes showing off a gold anklet with an amethyst-studded gold broom dangling from the chain. Her hair flowed down her back in perfect shiny copper waves and there was no sign of the skin imperfections she suffered from the day before.

  Stasi, Blair, and Krebs erupted in loud cheers laced with major sighs of relief.

  “I’d say it had been part of my nightmare, but seeing you two here shows it wasn’t.”

  “Which means it had to have been a virus and just needed to work itself out of your system!” Stasi jumped up and hugged her with Blair following.

  “All I know is that it was the longest two days of my life.” Jazz dropped into a chair and smiled at Krebs as he slid his plate toward her and got up to make another waffle.

  Blair leaned forward and gazed into Jazz’s eyes. She frowned as if she saw something that shouldn’t have been there. “It wasn’t a virus.”

  Stasi looked at her. “Why not? What do you see, Blair? It’s the perfect explanation for what happened to Jazz.”

  “I don’t care what caused what happened. All that matters is that I no longer have a zit the size of Australia on my chin and that rash is no longer growing up my leg,” Jazz declared. “And I’m going to find that bastard that beat me up and turn him into an amoeba.”

  “I don’t know, you were kinda cute as a mortal,” Krebs chimed in. “Dismal, for sure, but cute.” He looked from one to the other as they all scowled at him with the fury of three witches. His hair stood on end as the power wrapped around him. “What did I say?”

  “He’ll never have a clue,” Jazz said.

  “It’s not his fault,” Stasi, ever forgiving, added.

  “He’s a man,” Blair summed it up.

  ***

  “We missed the full moon.” Jazz followed Stasi and Blair out to Blair’s sage green Explorer.

  “The good thing about the moon is that it returns every month and the lake isn’t going anywhere.” Stasi hugged her tightly. “This month we were meant to be down here with you in your time of need.”

  Jazz smiled at the magick warming her through and through. Stasi’s magick dealt with love and comfort and that was what she was offering now.

  “I’ll be up for Samhain,” she promised. “Nothing will keep me from coming up for that.”

  “Of course, you will,” Blair replied. “The town is going all out this year with decorations for the fall festival and activities for the children. They even want to set up some haunted tours and turn the village into a ghost town.”

  “Which is ironic since the ghosts don’t like to come out during that time of year even if the veil of non-living and living is thinnest then. I’ll be surprised if any will show up for the tours or walk the streets, more’s the pity,” Blair said.

  “Just as long as not too many of those little darlings in costume don’t sport warts on their chins or noses and wear pointy black hats,” Jazz said with a long-suffering sigh. “I really hate the mortals making us look like a nasty cliché.”

  “Nowadays it’s more Disney princesses or wizards or robots,” Blair said. “Although I understand the Anderson triplets want to be the Three Stooges.”

  “Then they’ll be going as themselves,” Stasi murmured, thinking of three boys who were trouble with a capital T. Their mother was a big customer of Stasi’s or she would have wrapped the little fiends in a magickal cage long ago. Bogie, her Chihuahua mix of magickal descent, tended to disappear the moment the boys came anywhere close to the shop. And not disappear such as hide in the back room, but literally disappear into thin air.

  “Thank you so much for being with me,” Jazz murmured, hugging each one tightly. She fought back tears that still wanted to flow too easily. “I wouldn’t have handled the last couple of days as well as I did if you hadn’t been here.”

  “If that was handling it well, I hate to think what you would have been like if you turned into some kind of mess,” Blair teased, hugging her back. “Besides, someone had to be here to take the See’s candy away from you. I never saw anyone put away that much chocolate in such a short time.”

  “Don’t worry, I had a mega stomachache to show for it.” Jazz grimaced.

  “Tell Krebs he’s welcome to come up for Samhain,” Stasi told her.

  “I’ll let him know.” Jazz stood back and watched friends who were closer to her than her family had ever been. A part of her mourned their leave-taking, even if she knew she would be seeing them again in a matter of weeks. But a part of her was also glad she could get back to her life.

  “What is going on out there? Land sakes, can’t anyone tell me what happened?” Irma’s plaintive voice rang out.

  “Well, I did want all of my magickal life back.” Jazz trudged up the driveway to the carriage house.

  Irma sat in an easy chair that Jazz had provided for her. A variety of magazines lay on the small table in front of her while the TV/DVD combo was tuned to the Game Show Network. Now that the specter was free of the T-Bird, she demanded more and more luxuries to make her un-life in the carriage house easier. Jazz was waiting for the day Irma would want the apartment overhead fixed up for her use and a dog house set up in the backyard.

  “Blair said she came out to tell you what happened to me and why I couldn’t see and hear you,” she said, vainly trying to push away the dog that pushed his massive ghostly weight against her legs. He released a wet slurping sound and wandered outside. “Don’t eat the trees,” she warned him. “Krebs can’t believe the damage you did to the southern magnolia.”

  “She said some hooligan had robbed and beaten you.” Irma peered at Jazz’s face that was now unmarked courtesy of Lili’s healing poultices, which were now able to work. Stasi had zapped away the stitches and the poultices took care of the other cuts and bruises. She felt a little sore, but still worlds better than she had before. “She also sai
d you couldn’t see me that day because your magick was gone, but you didn’t know it at the time.”

  Jazz headed for the ottoman that matched the chair and sat down. “It’s been a harrowing few days,” she spoke a major understatement.

  “I’m just glad I could be told.” The ghost sniffed. “It isn’t nice to be stuck out here and unable to know what’s going on. Just because I’m dead doesn’t mean I don’t exist on some sort of plane. That nice Jonathan could have come out here to tell me what happened to you even if he couldn’t see me. Or you could have come yourself even if you couldn’t see or hear me. It wouldn’t have hurt you, you know.”

  Jazz stared at Irma’s expression. If she didn’t know better she’d swear that the ghost had been worried about her.

  Irma leaned forward and patted her hand on Jazz’s knees. Unfortunately, her hand sunk right through leaving a sense of cold in Jazz’s skin.

  “Perhaps what happened to you was meant as a message from someone in your witchy world, you know. Think of it as a way to make you think about how you’ve lived your life.” She settled back in her chair, her gray waves gleaming in the dim light floating through the carriage house windows. She smiled at the dog that returned to the carriage house carrying a tree branch and sidled up next to her chair and sat down, dropping the branch in front of him. “What you’ve done and perhaps what you should have done.”

  Jazz’s head shot up. “What did you just say?”

  “Does no one listen to me? I said…”

  Jazz thought back to the dream, words she thought were part of that dream.

  What if they weren’t a dream? What if the person behind her nightmares was actually talking to her? Not just a message, but a threat.

  “That’s it!” She jumped up from the ottoman. “Irma, I could kiss you!” Knowing it wasn’t possible, she didn’t. But she knew what she could do.

  “Where are you going?”

  Jazz didn’t answer. Her mind was already going a mile a minute as she hurried back to the house.

  Once in her room, Jazz picked up the books Stasi had checked out for her. While the spells hadn’t meant anything to her before, they did now and in a short matter of time she discovered what she was looking for.

  “I should have Stasi look for my reading material all the time,” she muttered, opening a large wooden chest and pulling out the materials she needed. She sat cross-legged on the floor with many silk pouches in a variety of colors scattered before her. Scents swirled around her causing her to sneeze as she sorted out what she needed and sprinkled herbs into a small iron cauldron. Once she had added the right amounts, she would take her cauldron downstairs to brew slowly on the stove. With luck, the watery surface would reveal what she was looking for.

  She wiggled her toes, feeling the chilly air wrap around them. A moment later, her feet were covered with crocodile that turned soft and warm like slippers. Even the three-inch heels had disappeared. Croc smiled at her, displaying teeth that should have been terrifying but weren’t, and Delilah cooed, batting green shadowed eyes and pursing red-tinted lips. Which was even stranger since crocodiles didn’t really have lips. They weren’t Fluff and Puff, who still refused to have anything to do with her even if her magick was back, but Croc and Delilah offered her their own form of calm. She stroked their heads with her fingertips and listened to their soft sounds of contentment.

  Jazz spent the next two hours taking out a pinch of this and a pinch of that and carefully placing the necessary ingredients in the center of a square of cream-colored silk. With each new herb, an aromatic scent rose in the air to surround her.

  Once she finished, she picked up the square by each corner, murmuring “air” for one, “fire” for the second, “water” for the third, and “wind” for the last. After tying the bundle with a silken cord the same color as the square, she carefully carried the cauldron and bag of herbs down to the kitchen.

  A half hour later, the charged water bubbled on the stove and she dipped the silk pouch into boiling water.

  “Show me the one who haunts my sleep. Show me the one who hides away deep. Show me the creep. Because I say so, damn it!” She rolled her eyes at her less than stellar spell, but pretty soon the water swirled in a miniature multi-colored whirlpool. She bent over the cauldron, staring into the contents, waiting to see the face of the one who was doing his or her best to ruin her life and sleep.

  The water’s surface smoothed out and she waited for the face of her enemy to appear.

  “Show me!”

  Except instead of a face appearing in the water, the water suddenly started to bubble upward and turned into a waterspout, emitting fumes that burned her eyes and nose and was strong enough to blister the paint off the walls.

  “Augh!” She jumped backwards, holding her hands over her face but the smell still seeped through and filled the kitchen.

  “What the hell?” Krebs skidded into the room. His face was a sickly green. “What are you doing? I could smell that all the way upstairs!”

  Jazz held her breath as she ventured forward to take a quick peek inside the cauldron. The contents were a thick nasty-looking yellowish-green oil that told her she wouldn’t learn her tormentor’s identity anytime soon. Plus she’d be spending hours cleansing her cauldron. She wasn’t about to get rid of it just because a spell backfired on her. She’d also need a biohazard bag for the mess in the cauldron because it wasn’t something she could pour down the sink without the drains melting or worse, turning the neighborhood into a swamp.

  “Wow. Whoever is behind this is really good.”

  Chapter 11

  “What do you mean it won’t be easy to get rid of the smell?” Krebs followed Jazz into her room. She threw open all her windows in hopes the fresh air coming in would cancel out the stench that seemed to permeate the walls.

  “It’s the gross results of a bounceback spell,” she explained. “I wanted to know who was behind the nightmares, but it seems that person sent up a counterspell in case I went looking for them.”

  “I thought you guys used mirrors or something when you ran a search.” Krebs looked down and blanched as the stilettos tiptoed their way around his feet, practically wrapping themselves around his legs even as their nostrils appeared closed. Obviously, shoes had smellers too. “Scrying. That’s the word I was looking for.”

  “You guys? Sheesh, Krebs, it’s not like we’re a witchy mafia or something. Even if we do have our own form of enforcers and the don is more a pompous witch who could scare the toenails right off you.” She finally took pity on him and shooed away the shoes. Croc released a lovesick sigh, while Delilah pouted her way back to the closet. “Plus what happened is proof it would have been much worse if I’d used a scrying glass.”

  “What can be worse than the house smelling like a toxic landfill?” He used his fingers to pinch his nostrils closed but quickly realized that breathing through his mouth meant the smell had a distinctive taste. He gagged and released his nostrils.

  “Believe me, you don’t want to know.”

  Jazz walked around the room spraying air freshener. She stopped when she realized the baby powder scent made the counterspell reek even worse.

  “Can’t you spell it gone or something?” Krebs gagged on the new reek.

  She shook her head. “After what happened with the search spell, I can’t take a chance. It should be gone in about twenty-four hours or so.”

  “Or so? Should? You mean it could be what? Forever?”

  She thought about it. “I don’t think so. Most bounceback spells last no more than twenty-four hours, but I don’t know how extensive this spell is.”

  “Jazz!”

  “I’ll pay for a hotel room.”

  He looked as if she’d finally lost her mind. “There’s no way I’ll leave windows open with all my computer equipment at risk. I’ll wear a gas mask if I have to.”

  “I can strengthen the wards around the house so nothing, not even the neighbor’s cat, can get past,�
� she promised. “You’d be miserable wearing a gas mask, not to mention it’s a really bad fashion statement.”

  “Oh that’s right; they had them during World War II, didn’t they? How did it feel wearing one of them, Jazz? Or did your witchy powers mean you didn’t have to worry about gas?”

  Jazz uttered a low snarl as she started to pull clothing out of the closet, but soon realized the smell had invaded there too. She had a bad feeling she was in for a day of heavy-duty cleansing throughout the house. And not with Lysol either.

  Krebs muttered the words “insane” and “why me?” as he pulled his cell phone off his belt as it played Surfin’ USA. “Hi.” His voice softened as he turned away.

  Jazz paused in her rummaging to look at her roomie as he walked through the door. There was no doubt his voice had gotten quieter even if he was further from her. Witchy powers didn’t mean superwoman hearing. And if Krebs was acting so private with his phone call that could only mean one thing…

  “Who’s the woman?” she murmured, tapping her chin with her forefinger. “And why do I now think that my making a deal not to pick on his girlfriends could turn into a mistake on my part?” The thought again popped up that it would only take a few words and a flick of the fingers to ensure her hearing every word of the conversation that now aroused her curiosity even more. Except with the bounceback spell so strong in the house she dreaded to think what could happen. “And it would be invasion of his privacy,” she whispered to the stilettos. “And not nice to boot. Still, what if she’s totally wrong for him and he’s thinking with his little brain and not the big one. As his very good friend I should look out for him.” Before she could give in to her urge to chance an eavesdropping spell, Krebs closed his phone and turned back to her.

  “I—uh—was wondering if you and Nick would like to go out on a double date Thursday night?” he asked, but not meeting her gaze.

  Jazz’s radar went on high alert. New woman. Krebs wanting to do a couples thing that he’s never suggested before. Even more telling was that he wasn’t looking at her.