50 Ways to Hex Your Lover

by Linda Wisdom

  “What the Fates?” he muttered then saw a furry ear poke out and the contents of her tote bag shift. He chuckled and settled back. So she still had Fluff and Puff, eh?

  “Not wearing the man-eating slippers tonight, Jazz?” Nick heard a grizzled old man tease as he cast his fishing line over the pier’s railing.

  “No, this time she appears to be carrying them,” Nick murmured, wincing at one memorable contact with the bunny chompers. And to think people called him bloodthirsty!

  “No, I’m not wearing them tonight, Harvey.” She winked.

  The man glanced at the tote bag that appeared to have a life of its own. “Oh, I see. Well, even bunny slippers need fresh air.” His laughter rang out. “I promise not to rat you out to the boardwalk police.”

  “Thanks.” Jazz looked out over the incoming waves. “Having any luck?”

  “Nah, I think the waves are too choppy tonight, so the fish have moved out to deeper water.” He leaned over. “You wouldn’t care to sprinkle some mumbo jumbo on my pole, would you?” He waggled thick eyebrows at her.

  “You are a very bad man, Harvey,” she chided him. “Fishing is a skill, not magick.” She moved on after giving him a one-armed hug. Garbled chatter sounded from her tote bag until she shushed the contents.

  Nick sat cross-legged on the roof for the next couple of hours watching Jazz ride the carousel, roller coaster, and Ferris wheel and nibble on funnel cakes before returning to the end of the pier. By this time even the most stubborn of fishermen had gone home.

  Nick swore the witch wore solitude like a cloak. He knew she had witch sisters. He had even met a few of them over the centuries. But he always sensed they needed her more than she needed them, that she was the independent one of the group. But he also knew that if any of the other women needed her, she would be there in a heartbeat. His sexy witch was as loyal as they came.

  He only wished that same strong loyalty extended to him. Her particular skills and knowledge were just what he needed to uncover the truth inside Clive Reeves Jr.’s mansion. If he managed to stay out of fireball range, he hoped to convince her to help him.

  When Jazz left the pier and headed for the boardwalk’s parking lot, Nick sped back across the rooftops until he reached his building. He stood on the edge of the roof, watching her graceful gait. As she left the arcade area, two pairs of fluffy ears popped above the top of the tote bag and swiveled around like four furry periscopes.

  “You take those nasty slippers places, but you don’t take me.” Irma’s whine could be heard from the T-Bird parked at one end of the walkway, conveniently away from a street lamp.

  Nick chuckled. “Always good to hear someone else is giving you a little trouble,” he whispered toward Jazz, knowing there was no way she could hear him.

  As Jazz reached the end of the boardwalk, one arm shot up, the middle finger extended. She continued walking, not looking back.

  Nick’s chuckle deepened to full blown laughter. “No, fuck you, darling. As soon as I can.”

  Five

  I’m too mercenary for my own good.”

  Krebs lifted his head at Jazz’s announcement and let out a low whistle of male appreciation.

  “Lady, that is one hot outfit. What rock star are you driving tonight?”

  Jazz curled her upper lip in a less than ladylike snarl as she adjusted her black leather bustier designed to show off her “charms.” Body-molding leather pants and boots made dangerous by razor-sharp four-inch stiletto heels completed the sexy picture. She left her hair loose in a riot of copper waves and kept the eye make-up smoky and bee-stung lips a deep glossy red. She carried a knee-length black leather coat. “I wish. Even the gnarliest rocker would be better than what I’ve got tonight. But the pay was too good to turn down.” She blew him a kiss. “Don’t wait up for me, baby.”

  While they were merely roommates, Jazz and Krebs always made sure the other knew when they were going out. She was touched by his insistence on protecting her even when she could easily disable anyone with a word. Well, anyone but the Witches’ High Council. They were in the “knows all, sees all” category no matter how hard she tried to fly under their all too keen radar.

  She grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator on her way out the back door and froze the moment she hit the first step. She knew the magickal wards surrounding the house and property were up to date, so nothing dangerous should have gotten past them. Actually, nothing preternatural, either innocent or dangerous, should have gotten past them. Yet something had. A hint of thunder rumbled overhead. She really had to focus on not allowing her temper to take charge again or she would end up with decades added to her punishment instead of months. Mother Nature was a good friend with most of the members of the Witches’ High Council.

  “You may as well show yourself,” she called out. “I’m on my way out for the night and I don’t want to think someone’s going to be hanging around here waiting for me to come home. That or I may as well zap you now since I don’t like uninvited visitors.”

  A shadow separated itself from the carriage house and stood off to one side.

  She released a deep sigh as Nikolai moved toward her with that sensual grace innate to vampires. She so did not need this tonight. Still, the man was a pleasure to look at, damn him.

  “Get out. Or if you need to hear it in your original tongue,” she uttered words in her version of Russian.

  He winced. “Your pronunciation is atrocious.” His eyes bored into hers, not with the vampire’s way of seducing his prey, but with the glow of a man who knew her intimately.

  Certain timbres in a man’s voice always revved Jazz’s engine. This man slash creature—an important distinction and she needed to remember it—had them all and then some. It pissed her off that she still felt the power that flowed off him.

  “I don’t have time to trade words with you, Nikolai,” she said.

  If his voice tipped her world, his faint hint of smile rocked it. “Some things you never forget. Your beautiful face contorted with frustrated anger is one of them.”

  She should be furious with him, but anger wasn’t what ran through her blood right now.

  Why did he have to be the one to affect her like this?

  In the wink of an eye she had herself under control again. She took a deep breath to keep that control alive because down deep she felt the faintest quiver running through her system. Something that suspiciously felt like tears threatened to bubble up. He was stirring up memories she refused to revisit.

  “How did you get past my wards?” Tiny sparks of light appeared over her head. She had worked hard on those wards, damn it! Any unwelcome predator that entered the property was quickly encouraged to leave or be turned into a toad. Vampires were predators of the first order. He shouldn’t have made it past the first ward. When she returned home she planned to increase the protection tenfold with the consequences even worse than before.

  She refused to visit the idea that somehow or other her wards recognized him as some kind of welcome predator—pretty much the same way he ignored her question about them.

  “Just talk to me then,” he spoke slowly and carefully, his Slavic heritage still flavoring his words. “Would that be so difficult? There were many times we talked the night away.”

  Yes, it would be difficult. To keep anything with him to “just talk,” that is. Not that she’d admit it to him. Jazz always had the snappy comeback and could hold her own, except where Nick was concerned. Her hormones always seemed to get in the way and before she knew it, she was kissing him, he was kissing her, her clothes were torn off, and they were doing the horizontal tango. Oh boy, she could already feel her blood warming at the thought.

  New life, good. Old life, aka Nikolai, bad, very bad.

  “As I said, I’m on my way out.”

  His gaze traveled over her “sex on the hoof” outfit. “Is that what you wear now when you eliminate curses? Or is that what all drivers for All Creatures wear? If that’s the case,
I may have to call up and request your services.” He grinned.

  She wasn’t surprised he knew about her job. Cop or lover, Nikolai had always been very good at his profession. “What are you really trying to say, Nikolai? That you’ve come to realize the error of your ways? That you can’t live without me? Oh wait, that’s right. You’re already dead.” She held up her forefinger to make her point.

  He cocked his head to one side, gazing at her as if she was something he couldn’t fathom. “Do people truly laugh at your idea of humor?”

  “More often than not. But enough about me. Tell me what you’ve been doing—who you’ve been putting in jail when I’m not around to arrest?” How many other witches you’ve seduced over the centuries. She so hated it when jealousy reared its ugly head.

  “You have skills I need,” he said in the low voice that thrummed hot along her nerve endings.

  A flash of memory slammed her brain like a freight train. A candlelit room highlighting silken sheets and tumbled pillows, the feel of his bare skin against hers, and the incredible power of his body as they mated with the ferocity of creatures whose survival depended on it. She ruthlessly tried to drive the tremble from her body before he noticed it, but she wasn’t quick enough. Damn him for evoking the past with a double entendre! At least he didn’t acknowledge it or she would have snapped the stake back into her hand without a second thought. She hated to be reminded of past failures. Nikolai was her biggest.

  “I need your help, Jazz,” he persisted, totally serious.

  Her heart went nearly as flat as her voice at his words. “You have a curse that needs eliminating?” Damn, he really was here on business. How could she be crazy enough to think he was here for her? “I didn’t think your kind could be cursed.”

  “Our kind is a curse,” he said quietly.

  She stepped back. “Uh, look, you, of all people, know I don’t do the Buffy thing. You’ll have to go elsewhere if you want that kind of curse eliminator.”

  Nikolai smiled and shook his head. “My form of humor.”

  “If that’s the case it needs serious work.” She tucked her thumbs into her pants pockets.

  He inclined his head. “Then meet me at my office when you are finished with your work tonight.”

  “You have an office?” she blurted out. She knew vampires owned businesses, but Nikolai had always chosen to work outside of an office environment. He claimed he hated the idea of walls around him and the Protectorate was only too happy to give him a free rein with his work. True, it was dusk to dawn, but he preferred actively hunting down rogue vampires instead of sitting behind a desk filling out paperwork. He also usually managed to insinuate himself with local law enforcement, which never failed to put a crimp in her lifestyle.

  He went on, ignoring her outburst. “Yes, near the boardwalk. It’s the two-story building just before the Midway. Number 2200. You can’t miss it. The sign reads Gregory Investigations. I go by Nick Gregory. Could you be there at one a.m.?”

  “We have nothing to say to each other.”

  “We have much to say if you would allow it.”

  “Because of the missing vampires.”

  He nodded.

  “I still don’t see why you think I can help you.”

  “Just because vampires are the victims this time doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen to other non-humans or even humans in the future, too,” he told her. “All of us have some sort of power. Who says what has happened to members of my kind will not eventually happen to witches or Dweezil’s kind or any creature that is out there? Sometimes you have to plan ahead, Jazz.”

  She knew he was right.

  She sighed. “All right, but you come here tomorrow evening at seven.” If they were going to talk she wanted it done on her turf.

  Nick started to take a step forward but one look from her had him remaining in place. She knew it had to be difficult for him. Vampires were arrogant bastards, but she wasn’t having him crowd her space for anything.

  “Are we going somewhere or not?” a high-pitched voice whined from inside the carriage house.

  Nikolai’s head then body whipped around to face the carriage house door. He grinned as he called out, “Hello, Irma.”

  “Nicky, honey!” she trilled. “Is she still giving you trouble? It’s the lack of sex in her life. It clogs up the body something awful. I should know. After all these years I am so clogged it would take a marathon of good hot sex to clear out the pipes. Not that I’d want Harold anywhere near me after he cheated on me, but that doesn’t stop the body from wanting some loving. Jazz, honey, open the door so I can see Nicky.”

  Jazz closed her eyes. “I so did not need the image of Mrs. Loose Lips Sink Ships having non-stop monkey sex,” she muttered.

  Nick grinned at Jazz’s World War II reference to people giving away secrets.

  “Let me give you a word of warning, Nick. The next time you try to enter this property uninvited the wards will be set up to repel you in a very nasty way.”

  She knew she was in trouble the moment the words left her lips. In the blink of an eye, Nick was standing in front of her. So close she felt his power wash over her like a warm blanket. It would have been so easy for her to zap him back ten feet. Instead, she breathed in the earthy scent of his skin and stared into eyes she swore belonged to another, centuries ago.

  “Do not do this, Nick,” she whispered.

  “We are like two magnets, Griet,” he whispered back, using the name she had shed centuries before. “When you put two sides together they push away, but if you turn one of them around so the opposite ends face each other,” he moved even closer, “they meet.” The words drifted across her lips just before his mouth claimed them.

  There was nothing to compare to the dark smoky taste of Nikolai Gregorivich. She was forced to hold on to his waist so she wouldn’t fall to her knees and bring him with her. She knew if that happened she would be a goner for sure. As it was, she seriously thought about ripping his shirt off then working on those pesky jeans.

  The leather bustier that took a good thirty minutes to wiggle and slither into was undone in seconds. The cool touch of his fingers against the lower slope of her breast sent shock waves through her system. Who needed magick when Nick was around?

  “I have missed the feel of your skin,” he murmured, trailing his lips across the curve of her jaw and down her throat, “the taste of your skin.” His mouth settled near her ear.

  Jazz swallowed. She knew there was no way for her to fight the sensations rolling through her. Not that she wanted to. Nick had a way of jumpstarting her hormones.

  “If I see even a flash of fang, you’re toast,” she managed to groan. “Literally.”

  She felt his smile against her skin. “I would never mar such perfection. Not when I would rather taste you another way.” His mouth moved back to hers and covered it, his tongue thrusting inside.

  Images flickered behind Jazz’s eyelids. Nick’s body doing to her what his tongue was imitating now. The way he could make her body sing. She may have been born with magick in her blood, but Nick’s magick was purely the carnal kind and she reveled in it.

  She inhaled sharply when he rolled her nipple between his fingertips.

  “Such a shame to cover so much beautiful skin.” He kissed the corner of one eye. “You should be clothed only in moonlight. Forget what you have to do tonight and come to my apartment.” His mouth moved back to her lips.

  Jazz gave herself up for one more intoxicating taste. Temptation stood in front of her in a fantastic six-foot-two-inch package.

  “The night will again be ours,” he whispered before uttering carnal words that had her body throbbing with an arousal that threatened to overwhelm her senses.

  And then morning will come, the snarky gargoyle in her brain intruded. She gritted her teeth and pushed both Nick and the mental gargoyle away. The edges of her bustier hung open, the cool night air swirling around her nipples.

  “I want you to go now,
” she said slowly, even though she would have preferred dragging him upstairs to her bed.

  Nick’s eyes were dark with the same fervor that mesmerized her own.

  “Jazz.” His voice promised what his body was fully prepared to deliver.

  She shook her head. “If we have sex now you’ll decide I’m pliant and ready to hear whatever you have to say.” She fumbled with the buttons, swore under her breath and flicked her fingertips down her front. The buttons fastened with an ease she didn’t have when she first put it on.

  “I wasn’t trying to seduce you into …”

  “I know.” She refused to look at him as bitterness traveled up her throat. “Like I said before, come back tomorrow night at seven. I promise I’ll listen to you then.”

  “No fireballs?” He eyed her hands.

  She so did not want to smile, but couldn’t help it. “Only if you really piss me off.”

  “Are we going anywhere or are the two of you going to stand out there talking all evening?” Irma’s plaintive voice broke the last bit of the spell lingering between Jazz and Nick. “Of course, if you’re doing something else I’ll wait.”

  Jazz sighed. “Too bad a fireball won’t take care of her.”

  “I’ll be here at seven, Jazz.” The instant the words left Nick’s mouth he disappeared right in front of her.

  She took a swig of water and several deep breaths to calm her raging hormones before activating the carriage house door. It silently slid to one side and the interior lights came on.

  Irma swiveled around in the seat and stared at Jazz.

  “I don’t understand why the two of you don’t kiss and make up,” Irma said, as Jazz climbed into the car.

  Jazz wasn’t about to tell her that she and Nick had, not two minutes previously, far more than covered the kissing part of that request. “There are things you don’t know, Irma,” she said wearily. “Just let it go. Please.”

  The ghost looked startled by Jazz’s lack of sass. She smiled and reached over, patting Jazz’s arm.

  “He’s a man, honey. You have to put up with their oddities at times. I should know after my Harold betrayed our marriage vows.”