For the shy drinkers or for clandestine gatherings, there were private booths decorated like grass shacks tucked discreetly into the corners. There were a few small tables crowded onto the middle of the floor, each equipped with a bowl of pretzels, a tiny bottle of Santa Diablo Red Pepper Rocket Fuel hot sauce for the daring to sprinkle on their tongue with a shot of tequila, and a shrunken head. Every table came with its own shrunken head.
The over-the-top décor provided the perfect cloak for possibly disturbing metaphysical manifestations to go unquestioned by naïve patrons. Here, the weirdness was out in the open, so a little more weirdness went unnoticed. To the untrained eye, this was merely a fun place with a dash of theater that served strong mixed drinks, but she knew the Voodoo Hoodoo cocktail lounge was San Buena’s most densely packed gathering place for the odds and ends of the enchantment community, and an epicenter of chaotic sorcery and intoxication—a volatile combination. One entered the lounge at her own risk.
Sid stood behind the bar, leering at a pretty young woman with straight black hair who wobbled precariously on her bar stool as if she had finished her drink too quickly.
Fredi ignored the tipsy girl and approached Sid. The ominous glow of the fish tanks lit Sid’s face cobalt blue, but he still looked rakish. “Could you tell me who drives a big red pickup? I scratched their paint and need to give them my insurance info.”
The pale Fae looked her over with a slight smirk. “I remember you. You’re the voyeur.” Sid called into the dark depths of the lounge, “Anyone here drive a red pickup?”
“I do!” A handsome man with a wavy head of Tarzan hair cascading to his shoulders peeked out of a private booth. “Is everything all right?”
Fredi’s breath caught. The man was gorgeous. He had a broad build with a rugged face that featured sweeping black brows, mischievous eyes, and a bit of gritty stubble on his strong jaw.
The man rose from the booth but halted to gaze at her with undisguised lust in his eyes.
For a moment, they both stood motionless and simply stared at the other.
“I scratched your truck.” She tapped the silver cuff on her wrist. “But I can make it right. I just need your phone number.”
The man beckoned her to his booth with the wave of his hand. “Come here.” He never broke eye contact with her.
She felt as if she were floating as she crossed the room. Heaven, help her, but the man was better looking the closer she got. His sparkling hazel eyes and big white teeth with ever-so-slightly long incisors were stunning. He was a powerfully built guy who towered above her, which was a plus. Sometimes it was a bummer to be taller and heavier than an attractive man.
“What’s your name?” The man’s rich voice burned with the same slow fire as a swig of dark rum.
“Frederica De la Cruz.” Her throat tightened. “But everyone calls me Fredi. I have insurance, but there are other ways we can take care of this.”
He allowed his gaze to drift toward her plunging neckline, but seemed to catch himself, and his attention immediately returned to her face. “I’d be very interested to hear about those other ways.”
“I meant I’m a witch. I can hex-bond the paint. I’ve done it before. It will be a perfect match. You’ll never see the damage, but it will have to be another time. I don’t have my wand with me.”
A crooked smile lit his face. “You’re very up-front about being a witch. You don’t seem to have any reservations about telling a stranger you’re a member of the enchantment community. It’s gutsy and refreshing.”
“I’m not ashamed of being a witch.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that you should be. I meant it was refreshing that you told me up-front.”
“Oh.”
“Ummm.” He stalled. “I’ve been the victim of a few misunderstandings in the past, myself.”
She moved a step backward to put a little distance between her and his formidable build. It was impossible to disguise the disapproval that crept into each word. “Are you a warlock?”
“No.” He tilted his head, and his eyes flashed an iridescent shade of golden-green before briefly glowing amber.
She should have known at first sight he wasn’t a warlock; his build was too robust. “You’re Lycan?”
He grinned a devastating, bright smile. “Yep.”
“We don’t see many Lycan here. Most live farther up the coast. What’s a wolfboy doing in San Buena?”
“I prefer wolfman. I’m here doing cabinetwork on a trophy house on Sea Cliff Drive.” He dug into the back pocket of his tantalizingly tight black jeans and pulled a business card out of his wallet and handed it to her. “I would love to ask you to share a drink with me, but I’m expecting a bunch of other Lycans here in a few minutes, and it’s not really a party or anything fun. It’s kind of a touchy subject.”
“The Voodoo Hoodoo lounge seems like an odd choice of locations to conduct ‘touchy’ business.”
His slight shrug betrayed a hint of irritation. “I thought so, too. It’s personal business and something of a surprise to one of the people I’ll be meeting tonight.” A long pause followed as he seemed to sort through his thoughts. “Actually, it’s a Lycan intervention. I received an emergency call this afternoon. I don’t even know the poor guy. A friend of a friend told me there was a young man in this community making his first complete shift. Apparently, he’s confused and having a horrible time with it. A few of us plan to talk him down and offer some reassurance before he does something foolish during tonight’s full moon.”
She felt a wave of respect. Not only was this man good-looking, he seemed like a nice guy trying to do a good deed. Overall, he was pretty damn attractive.
With a brusque motion, he tapped his fingertip against the business card. “My name’s Gus Odinson. I’m the owner of Odinson Construction. I would love for you to give me a call when it’s not the full moon, so we can discuss that paint scratch in more detail.” Another blindingly bright smile lit his face. “Fredi, don’t report this to your insurance company, okay? There’s no need. We can settle this between us.” He looked at her with unmistakable longing and moved a bit closer, as if he were ready to wrap his arms around her, pull her into the booth beside him, and hold her captive on his lap. “Promise you’ll call me?”
When he gave her another one of ‘those’ looks, butterflies fluttered in her belly. The weird Wiccan heat began to build in her fingertips, and she deftly slipped the card into her purse before it could burst into flames. She wanted to move to a more comfortable distance from this incredibly enticing man, but her feet remained frozen to the floor and she was trapped where she stood, staring. A stubborn part of her didn’t want to walk away. He smiled. Their gazes locked. She almost forgot to breathe. Great Goddess, she could look at Gus all night, and that wasn’t wise. An Eros-fueled disaster was brewing, and she had to get out of there before something horrible happened. “I better go. I’m meeting some friends.”
“Rain check?” His eyes glittered against the cool light of the fish tanks. “Fredi, I’m glad you scratched my truck. I really do want to see you again.”
Okay, that was kind of scary. She was looking at a big, confident man with a ton of sex appeal, and he was looking at her like she was something delicious to stroke his tongue against and savor. His beautiful mouth looked like it was made for long, soft kisses, and his eyes had a dreamy, sensual allure. Until that moment, she’d never suspected she might be harboring a secret hankering for Lycans, but, by God, how had she missed it all these years? Where had he been hiding all her life? He was exactly the kind of guy who really turned her on.
Her hand trembled just as a jolt of green fire shot from her fingertips, grazed Gus's pant leg, and set the bamboo wall covering on fire. Flames raced vertically toward the ceiling.
“Oh, crap!” She leaped forward and beat the flames into submission with her purse.
Sid rushed from behind the bar with a fire extinguisher and gave the bamboo a cold blast of flame reta
rdant. He shot a sharp look of accusation toward Fredi. “Is everything under control?”
“Everything’s fine.” Her face flushed with embarrassment. The flames were out, but parts of the bamboo were scorched to soot. A grassy odor hung in the air. She’d have to return tomorrow with her wand and put the décor right. Her to-do list was growing longer by the minute, but at least no one had gotten injured. Thank Glinda the Good Witch for that sweet little bit of luck. She wondered if she should stop tempting fate and go straight home.
Sid tucked the extinguisher under his arm. “Are you Gus Odinson?”
“Yes, I’m Gus.”
“One of your buddies called and wouldn’t leave a name. He said something about ‘be patient and hang tight. We’re having a tough time getting ourselves there.’ Do you know what that’s about?”
“I do. I’ll just sit and wait.”
Sid pointed a slender finger at her. “You’re Frederica, right?”
“Yeah, I’m Fredi.” This was beginning to feel eerie.
“Someone named Estele called earlier to say she’s running late. She asked me to tell you to please take a seat and enjoy a Hoodoo mixer.”
“That’s weird. Why wouldn’t Estele call my phone? I unblocked her.”
“How would I know?” Sid sleeked a stray lock of platinum hair away from his angular face. “You’ll have to ask her when she gets here. I’m going to set the fire extinguisher within reach and blend a pitcher of Hoodoo Blue, courtesy of Estele, okay?”
“Thank you.” She wasn’t sure a drink was a good idea.
“Don’t say thank you!” Sid’s tone was snappish. “Fae hate thank yous! You’re a witch, so you should be aware of that.”
“Sorry.” Fredi’s chin dipped. Damn, that odd detail was so easy to forget. Thank you was a deeply ingrained cultural nicety that made the English-speaking world spin a little more smoothly, but the Fae viewed it as a human faux pas and sign that the human saying it was prone to forget the Fae’s good deed. Being nearly forgotten demoted demi-deities themselves, the Fae community was emotionally touchy and ever alert for guarantees of remembrance. They’d accept a blood vow or melodramatic deathbed promise with casual ease, but not a thank you.
“I’ll be more careful. It won’t happen again.”
With a chilly expression on his handsome face, Sid turned his lanky frame around and strode behind the counter to blend the drink from a wild array of hand-labeled apothecary bottles filled with various syrupy potions and booze.
A quick glance around the lounge revealed the situation had grown even more awkward. At the moment, there was no one else there except a couple of wizened old warlocks who sat in the corner talking shop with a chatty shrunken head perched atop a shot glass. Becoming increasingly uncomfortable, she considered if perhaps it was the moment to solidify an exit strategy. Taking a half step, she moved toward the back door. “Maybe I should go.”
“Please stay.” Gus motioned toward a secluded booth that resembled a grass hut on a Tahitian beach. “Sit with me for a few minutes. With luck, we might get stood up. I can’t hang around for too long anyway. I shouldn’t be here at all. I really need to be on my way.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m in the same boat. I shouldn’t be here either. My friend Estele begged me to come. Sometimes she can be a little nutty.”
He traced his finger across his forehead. “Does Estele wear her bangs very short with a long black ponytail and have a tattooed sleeve of Wiccan symbols?”
“That sounds like Estele. She’s petite, cute, and a bit dippy. How do you know her?”
“I don’t. Not really.” Gus led her into the booth and sat opposite. “The other day, a woman was jogging on Sea Cliff Drive and saw me unloading my truck. I didn’t think anything of it, except a minute later, she jogged past again with a big smile on her face, headed in the opposite direction, and a minute after that, she was passing me again jogging backward, but that time, she stopped to talk. She told me her name was Estele and asked for mine. It was a warm day, and I was working without a shirt, and I noticed she was staring at my chest. Finally, she asked if I was Lycan. I said I was and held my breath after, because I never know how women will react to that bit of news, but Estele beamed. She seemed happy to hear it, but she didn’t say another word and simply turned around and jogged away.” He clapped his hands. “I thought, well, there it is; it’s happened again. Lycanthropy has turned off yet another woman. Oh well. My bad luck.” With a furtive glance, he checked his watch. “Damn. It’s later than I thought. I need to be going.”
“Me, too.” She slid toward the edge of the seat. Her suspicions ran hot. What sort of monkeyshines was Estele concocting? The entire situation was too fishy to be coincidence. It was time to flee. “It was nice to meet you, but—"
Sid stood in front of the booth, blocking her retreat. “Leaving? Not so fast. Here’s your pitcher of Hoodoo Blue, mixed special for you. I know that rhymes.” He winked as he set a frosty pitcher filled with what looked like a turquoise slushy on the table and placed two heavy glasses paired with pink straws beside it. “Enjoy.”
“Thank—” Fredi stopped herself and raised a palm in apology. “I won’t say it.”
Sid smirked and slinked away.
Damn Fae. With his sly jade-green eyes, he always looked like he was up to no good. She stared at the frosty blue beverage with suspicion. There was a lot of drink there—more than enough to get several adults schnockered. No doubt sneaky Sid mixed it strong, too. “There’s no way we can finish all of that. I really shouldn’t stay.”
Gus reached out and stroked her hand with a whisper-light touch that brought her to a halt. “One drink. We’ll talk a little and I promise I’ll let you go. I have no business hanging around either. I need to get home, or take a run in the hills.”
“Why run to the hills?”
He heaved a tense breath. “To get a little wiggle room between me, civilization, and full-blown Lycanthropy high jinx. You’re a witch. I’m sure you’re familiar with what I’m talking about.”
She shrugged. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what you mean. I didn’t grow up around many Lycans. I was raised in San Buena. Wolfboys usually aren’t part of the surf-and-shore scene. They head for the forests.”
“Wolfmen,” he corrected her. “And you’re right, Lycans prefer the woods to sandy beaches, but you must have heard something?” He settled his big frame uncomfortably on the vinyl seat.
“No.” She shook her head. “Nothing. I really don’t know much about the Lycan community.”
Gus’s expressive brows drooped. “You must have heard that during a full moon Lycans have a bad reputation for getting a little too aggressive, hairy, and—”
“Horny? Okay, I have heard that. I thought you might offer something a little more obscure, like you had to wear red shoes and skip through the hills searching for four-leaf clovers, or something stupid like that.”
“Nope.” He looked terribly uneasy. “Nothing fancy. I just have to stay away from the ladies. I don’t want to offend or bother anyone who’s not into Lycans, and it can be a challenge to control myself, especially around a woman like you.” His thick brows creased so strongly they almost met. “Strike that. I should not have said it.”
“Do you really think I’d let a comment like that go without further investigation?” She grabbed the pitcher, poured the frozen slush into the two glasses, and stabbed a straw into the center of her drink. “Why do you have to be especially careful around ‘a woman like me’? Is that good or bad? What the hell does that mean?”
“We should discuss this another time.”
“No. Let’s do it now.”
“It’s not really appropriate.”
She brought the straw to her lips and sipped the Hoodoo Blue. It was brain-freeze cold and incredibly delicious with an odd mix of citrus and exotic floral aromas lurking beneath the first honey-sweet notes. “Why me?”
He rubbed his hand along the gritty edge of his gorgeou
s jaw and stared into space. “This is so awkward. It’s ironic, too, because this is exactly what I was supposed to be discussing tonight at the damn Lycan intervention. There’s nothing like offering advice to others that you can’t follow yourself to make you feel like a blithering hypocrite.”
While hovering over her drink, she nervously sipped too much. The roof of her mouth froze as if she’d swigged liquid nitrogen and her forehead felt like a brittle icicle ready to shatter.
“Oops.” She squinted hard. “I drank too fast.”
Gus tossed the pink straw aside and tasted his drink, and then quickly took another swallow.
“This is good,” he muttered. “I usually don’t like this sort of thing.” He took another long gulp and squinted, too. “Holy mother brain-freeze! Wow, that’s cold.”
Fredi realized she was guzzling her drink too fast, but it was impossible to slow down. The drink was so good she couldn’t help it and felt compelled to swallow another gulp. She’d catch a brain-freeze, and the moment her head thawed, she drank more. Too soon, the glass was almost empty. It was crazy. “I’ve never had a Hoodoo Blue. What do you think makes it so yummy?” She stirred the last of the drink with the straw. “There are some exotic ingredients in this. I smell a hint of ylang-ylang orchid, maybe a touch of Damascus rose?”
“I think the secret ingredient is blue-bubblegum snow cone syrup, and lots of it.” His eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, my God, I already finished mine. I had no intention of doing that.”
“I liked it, too.” She stared into her empty glass. “It sure went down easy.” She eyed the half-full pitcher. “Maybe we should just finish it and then call it a night?”
“I’m not sure about that. We don’t even know what’s in this stuff. It might really pack a punch. I still have a few miles to drive.”
“Don’t risk a DUI.” Fredi pointed over her shoulder. “There’s no need to even start the truck. One block from here, there’s a fire road behind city hall that leads into the hills. It’s miles of state-owned wilderness sanctuary. There’s nothing there but chaparral, jackrabbits, and rattlesnakes. You can get hairy and howl to your heart’s content, and you won’t bother a soul.”
Hoodoo Blue Page 3
