Hex in High Heels

by Linda Wisdom

  Copyright © 2009 by Linda Wisdom

  Cover and internal design © 2009 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

  Cover illustration by Lisa Mierzwa

  Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567–4410

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  Printed and bound in the United States of America

  QW 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  To all my fans who have embraced my hexy witches with such wonderful enthusiasm. You are what keeps me going. Thank you from my heart.

  Chapter 1

  “You turned them into teenagers?” Jake Harrison howled, which sounded eerily like his Were–Border Collie self, even though this morning he was deliciously human. He was lounging in a red vinyl and chrome chair by the 1950s diner table on display in the back of the vintage shop, long legs stretched out comfortably. Dressed in his usual faded jeans and flannel shirt, Jake’s shaggy black hair was in need of a trim and his black eyes were bright with laughter. One hand rested idly on the Select-O-Matic jukebox on the table, while the other held a paper cup filled with coffee. The rich scent of cinnamon mocha filled the air.

  “They were lucky that’s all I did to them. And let me tell you, there’s nothing scarier than trophy wives suddenly reverting to pimply face, original nose, stringy hair teens. Not one of them was a cute kid, either. All of their so-called natural beauty came from a surgeon’s knife, hairdresser’s skill, and make-up.” Blair Fitzpatrick stood a short distance away, studying with satisfaction the primary colors adorning the walls of her shop, Blast from the Past. She specialized in selling vintage items and liked to make her shop bright and welcoming to tempt customers inside. But what really revved her engines was the way Jake was looking at her, with a dark gaze that held more than a hint of hunger. Yep, Jake was the one who really stirred her hormonal cauldron.

  “Some people just don’t understand that my gifts are meant for the greater good.” She sat down across from him and sipped the caramel latte Jake had brought her that morning.

  He grinned at her. “Oh yeah, anyone can see that revenge spells are for the greater good.”

  “You craft the right spell, and husbands and boyfriends think twice about cheating on their women. A woman who’s illegally run up a man’s credit card suddenly finds the bill in her name, or worse.” She absently touched her curly, dark auburn hair to make sure her ’40s updo was still in place. Each week Blair took the time to decorate the shop in a different theme. This week was the 1940s and she was dressed accordingly. “Two small examples.”

  “It’s a good reminder never to piss you off.”

  Blair rested her chin on her hand and studied his silky black hair and lean, rough-hewn features. In human form, Jake was one hot-looking guy; and even in dog form, any woman would want to adopt him. But she knew she could look into his dark eyes all day and never see all that was within. Jake had kept his Were nature secret for a long time and even now, despite her witchy senses, she couldn’t detect a hint of Canis lupus familiaris. That didn’t stop her from gazing at his mouth and imagining it on hers, or his hands running over her body or… wowza! Was it hot in here or was she having a hot flash? “I have to say, you’d come out pretty good even as a toad or a warthog.”

  “Blair!” A young woman’s voice echoed through the archway separating Blair’s shop from fellow witch Stasi’s lingerie boutique, Isn’t It Romantic. “It’s Horace again.”

  “‘It’s only for three days,’ she says,” Blair grumbled, rising to her feet. “‘Trev’s taking me away for a romantic long weekend. Ashley will watch the shop, so no worries there,’ she assures me. If Stasi wanted no worries, she should have taken Horace with her. But I suppose her wizard boyfriend wouldn’t be too keen on that. Not that I blame him.” She walked through the archway into the neighboring shop. A moment later a multi-colored spike of light flashed between the shops, and Horace the gargoyle’s yelp of pain was heard. Blair returned, rubbing her hands in a gesture of a job well done.

  “Stasi only tells me no!” the gargoyle yelled after her.

  “Yeah, well, I’m in charge now.”

  Jake glanced at Felix, the Kit-Kat clock on the wall, and stood up, pulling on his fleece-lined denim jacket. “You’re going?” she protested.

  “Agnes asked me to replace some boards in their front fence and I promised to do it today.”

  “And you decided to do it while she’s at her hair appointment,” she guessed.

  He nodded. “Floyd, I can handle,” he said, naming the town’s mayor. “But Agnes seems to feel she should be out there supervising, when she doesn’t know a thing about carpentry. Plus that heavy stuff she calls perfume makes me sneeze. With luck, I’ll be done before she gets back. I’ll see you later.” With a wave of his hand he was gone.

  Blair resisted to the urge to let her own inner teenager peek out the window and watch him walk down the street.

  While she and Jake had become closer since the dramatic events of last Samhain, they still weren’t as close as she’d hoped. She knew the man was interested. He stopped by just to chat a couple of times a week and often brought her favorite latte and muffins with him. Who could resist a man who brought her something that, in her mind, was better than roses?

  Every so often Jake still showed up as his Were–Border Collie alter ego, and while Blair complained about the shedding—things could be worse.

  She stared at the colorful flyer announcing the upcoming annual Winter Carnival, sponsored by a nearby resort. The town of Moonstone Lake was gearing up for attracting the tourists. Maybe the carnival preparations would provide the opportunity she’d been waiting for to pull Jake closer.

  ***

  Jake glanced at the note Agnes Pierce had left him with her ideas for a new fence and tossed it into his toolbox. He’d rather be back at Blast from the Past, laughing and talking to Blair. Instead he was out in twenty-degree weather, freezing his ass off. Still, it was a job and he liked keeping busy.

  He looked up as a buzzing sound blasted from his cell phone and he snatched it from the top of his toolbox.

  “Come on, Agnes, give me a chance to get started,” he grumbled, flipping open the phone. “Jake here.”

  “For someone who’s kept out of touch for so many years, you sound very healthy.”

  A black haze covered Jake’s eyes as he stared off into the trees.

  “How did you get this number?” he spoke slowly and evenly, reining in the fury that threatened to bubble to the top. The last thing he wanted was to show how this call affected him.

  “You’re a smart puppy. I’m sure you can figure that out for yourself.” The woman’s voice held a cold bite. “We need to talk.”

  “Really. I thought we were doing that now, Mom. But I’m pretty busy at present, so let’s get together later. Much later.”

  “It would be in your best interest to speak to me now.” The icy edge to her tone could have frozen his ear.

  “And it would be in your best interest to lose my number.”

  “This isn’t over,�
� he could hear her say as he clicked off the phone.

  Jake’s grip tightened until the cell phone snapped in his hand.

  “Damn that bitch,” he muttered angrily, feeling power begin to course through his veins. His steps turned into long strides as he headed for the cover of the trees. Within moments, fur covered his body and a sleek black and white Border Collie raced across the snow-covered ground.

  The winter air made Jake’s nose tingle as he leaped over fallen logs. He skidded on a patch of ice, but quickly regained his balance and was off and running again. A deer, sensing the dog’s anger, took off in the opposite direction.

  Rage. Don’t need it. Hate her. Leave me alone.

  His stride lengthened as he ran up a hill, halting for a moment at the top to catch his breath. A rustling sound not far off caught his attention and he lowered his head to the ground, creeping along the snowdrifts as the scent of enemy tickled his senses.

  Jake rounded a stand of trees and came face to face with a coyote. The coyote’s grayish-brown head snapped upward, a low growl emerging from behind his bared teeth as he tried to establish dominance against the dog staring him down. The Border Collie rumbled deep in his chest as his mouth widened in a doggy grin at the idea of an old-fashioned critter rumble.

  Bring it on, dude. This is my territory, so I guess I’m just going to have to kick your furry ass.

  Without any further warning, the coyote leaped. Not to be outdone, Jake bunched his muscles and met his adversary in mid-air with a snarl. The battle had begun.

  The coyote wasted no time twisting his head to clamp his jaws on Jake’s neck. Jake yelped and managed to get loose before too much damage was done. He knew his foe wasn’t Were and didn’t have his strength, but he wasn’t about to make it easy on the animal.

  Jake danced around, yipping canine insults, jumping forward to nip the coyote’s haunches, then leaping back. Each time the coyote got in a bite or a scratch, Jake returned the favor with some damage of his own.

  His blood sang with the glory of battle, every sense heightened as he threw himself into the fray. If he wasn’t mistaken, the coyote was enjoying this just as much. Jake had no doubt that they’d leave the impromptu battleground bloody and satisfied.

  Oh yeah, I really needed this.

  ***

  Jake felt more than a few aches and pains, but he was grinning; he hadn’t felt this good in a long time. He wasn’t in the mood to return to the Pierces’ to pick up his toolbox; Floyd would see it and stick it in his shed. He’d call the older man that night and explain that something had come up. His features darkened briefly at the memory of just what that something was.

  He tipped his head up, sniffing the air, and then did what he did best—he followed his nose to the lake.

  Blair had changed out of her vintage dress into clothing more appropriate for the cold weather and stood near the water’s edge.

  “Aren’t you afraid the lake monster will show up and eat you?” Jake teased, walking toward her.

  She turned her head and flashed him a bright smile. “Hey you.” Her smile dimmed. “What happened?”

  “As in what?”

  She quickly conjured up a mirror and showed him a face marred with scratches and what looked like a nasty bite on his neck.

  “Fixing Floyd’s fence proved to be more dangerous than I thought.”

  She shook her head at his glib answer. “Try again, pooch. Agnes stopped by the shop and asked if I’d seen you. She said your toolbox was left there and what looked like pieces of your cell phone.” She reached up and lightly traced one of the scratches. “I have a salve that would speed up the healing process.”

  He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

  “I thought shifting healed a Were.”

  “Not so much if you’re Canis lupus familiaris. We tend to have a slower healing rate. Besides, these cuts are a badge of honor, courtesy of a coyote that won’t be coming around here again any time soon.” He stood next to her. “See any signs of life out there? Beany and Cecil show up on the Leakin’ Lena?”

  Blair smiled and shook her head. “Cecil was a sea serpent. Besides, the lake monster is only an urban legend.”

  “I don’t know, stranger things have happened in this town.” He grinned as he nudged her shoulder with his arm.

  “Says the guy who once turned into a dog to save my life.” She laughingly bumped him back. She tipped her head to the side and reached up, pulling a tuft of grayish-brown fur away from his throat. “Hm, from a new playmate?”

  “I doubt he’d see it that way.” He deliberately kept his gaze on the lake. “You know, I had no choice that night. You hadn’t paid me for those new shelves yet.”

  “Goof!” But Blair was smiling as she turned back to the lake and its serene pale blue surface that echoed the moonstone gem for which it was named. “If there was a lake monster, surely one of us would have sensed it by now. In all the years Stasi and I have lived here, we’ve never even seen a sign of a living creature in the water.”

  “Maybe he or she is shy.” His fingers itched to brush the stray strands of hair away from her face.

  “Isn’t it enough that the town has witches and a Were Border Collie? We have any other creatures around here, and we’ll end up as an offshoot of Ripley’s Believe it or Not, or a late night documentary on the Sci Fi Channel.”

  “So what brings you out here when the temp is dropping like crazy?”

  “Sometimes I like to come out and just look at the water. When it’s calm and beautiful like this I can’t believe it was ever any other way,” she murmured, tucking her hands into her pockets. She cast him a quick glance, her bright, blue-green eyes loaded with humor. “I can’t believe any self-respecting lake monster would have allowed its home to be damaged by magick. And speaking of magick.” She poked her finger against his chest. “Why didn’t you ever mention you were Were? And don’t say you didn’t have any chances, because there were plenty of times you could have said, ‘Oh, by the way, I’m a dog. Honest.’”

  Jake shrugged his shoulders. “I had more fun showing up as the dog, even though you weren’t always that welcoming.”

  Her jaw dropped. “You tracked muddy paw prints all over my new comforter!”

  “And you gave me a bath.” His grin widened at the memory. He reached out and took her hand. “Come on, little witch, you’re beginning to look like a Popsicle. I’ll walk you back to your place. I might even let you play nurse.”

  “Fine, change the subject. It won’t stop me from continuing to ask,” she said as they walked down the path toward the building where she and Stasi had their shops and home.

  “Okay, I’ll tell you—once you admit you and Stasi used to use binoculars to spy on me.”

  She cast him an innocent look that battled with the amusement dancing in her blue-green eyes. “We never did anything like that.”

  His chuckle floated in the frosty air. “One, I have Were super sight. Two, the sun tends to reflect on the lenses.” He laughed as she muttered under her breath.

  Chapter 2

  “Ashley’s picking on me,” Horace grumbled, making his way into Blair’s shop. It took some huffing and puffing on his part, but he finally got his leathery wings going enough to allow him to fly up and land on one of the counters. The eight-inch, gray-stone gargoyle had an elongated snout that resembled a monkey’s, long arms, and short legs, along with pointy horns and leathery-looking wings. His long tail curved up behind him as he skated across the glass counter.

  “He told a customer her thong showed all her cellulite,” Ashley, the young woman who helped out in Stasi’s shop, called through the archway.

  “You know very well you’re not supposed to speak to the customers. You do it again, and you’ll be wearing a muzzle.” Blair adjusted the display of World War II pinup photos. “Stasi warned you about doing stuff like that.”

  “I don’t care. A thong wasn’t a good look for her, and someone needed to tell her the truth.” He
used his claw the way humans use a toothpick, examined whatever he dug out from between his fangs, then tossed it to the floor.

  Blair shot him a warning look and zapped it quickly away.

  “Don’t think you can hang out here,” she warned him. She set her iPod in its dock and switched on 1940s-era Big Band music to play softly in the background as she rearranged her collection of World War II memorabilia, including ration books with tokens and a gas mask, courtesy of fellow-witch Maggie from when she lived in London during the war.

  In keeping with her theme, Blair was dressed in a black rayon, satin-backed crepe dress with a sweetheart neckline and cap sleeves. The gores of the skirt were spliced with a floral print of tiny red rosebuds; it was impossible for her to walk without swishing her hips. She glanced down and adjusted her seamed stockings. Black leather open-toe pumps completed the look. Her gold ankle bracelet, sporting a tiny golden broom with a blue topaz on the handle, winked as she walked.

  “When’s Stasi coming back?” Horace asked, flopping back on the glass and waving his arms and legs as if he was making a snow angel.

  “Sometime tomorrow.” Blair paused at the front window, adjusting a few items in the display, then standing there and looking out.

  “I wish she’d taken me with her.” Horace heaved a deep, dramatic sigh.

  “Oh yeah, every witch wants to take a gargoyle along with her on a romantic getaway.” She craned her neck to look down the street.

  “He’s across the street at the hardware store.”

  “He who?” she said, blushing.

  “Jake, that’s who,” Horace hooted. “That’s who you were looking for, isn’t it?”

  “No.” She stopped herself from touching her nose. She had this deep fear that a lie would cause her nose to grow.

  She still wondered why Jake had gotten into a battle with a coyote the previous day. She’d posed a lot of questions as she’d treated his cuts and scratches, but he remained mum on all of them.

  She vaguely noticed the sound of the small bells tinkling over Stasi’s door as a potential customer walked inside.