I set about doing several more protection charms for the child, the prime minister and Zane. In addition, I added a few more wards for the house. No one would get in here who wasn't a friend.
Zane wanted to go out for dinner, but I didn't think we should chance it yet. There hadn't been any attempts on him yet but there was no reason to push our luck. He sent his assistant, Georgette, who arrived yesterday afternoon, after our dinner.
He wasn't in the best of moods, and to be honest who could blame him? Still haven't heard from Simone. If she doesn't show up this afternoon, I'll give her a call.
We missed our appointments for hair and eyebrows. Evidently, it's taking her longer to find the nest than she anticipated. If I hadn't been needed here, I might have gone with her. I could use some hard witch action.
I've tried several times to focus Zoë's image of the scary lady. I'm not getting anything, but I won't stop trying.
Monday, 2 P. M.
Men are so stupid. I hate them. All of them. Stupid men. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
It's been more than a week so I thought I'd try to call Sam, since I haven't heard from him. You know, just sort of wanted to make sure he was alive and well. Nothing major. I've tried to search for him mentally, but he has me blocked, the jerk.
So, I called his cell.
A woman answered.
When I asked for Sam she laughed and hung up on me.
Bitch.
Why is a woman answering Sam's phone?
Was he there? Were they laughing at me?
He wouldn't cheat on me. I know Sam. He's got trust issues out the wazoo. It's something he wouldn't even contemplate. Right?
I tried calling Azir's office, but Maridad, his assistant, said he's unavailable. I asked if he was on one of his missions, but there was silence.
"All I can tell you is that he's unavailable," she said finally. I like her a lot, and I think she has a thing for Azir, but I needed answers. She'd come to Sweet a few months ago with the sheik, and we made a connection.
"Maridad, look. I just need to get in touch with Sam. I'm pretty sure he's with Azir somewhere. I saw Azir's number on his cell. I really, really need to talk to Sam. It's an emergency."
She sighed. "I am sorry. Please understand that when these things happen, I'm not informed of the sheik's itinerary. Security reasons, I'm told." The last was said with the tiniest bit of attitude, which meant she was no happier about the situation than I was.
I took that to mean that, yes, they were on a mission. But she didn't know where they were either. Great. My supposed boyfriend and an almost boyfriend were out saving the world and doing God knows what with God knows who. Wonderful. Marvelous.
"I'm sorry if I caused you any trouble."
"Don't worry about it, and if I do hear something I'll let you know."
I think I'm going to put on a bathing suit and get some of this famous California sunshine. I'm feeling dangerous enough to even try the black two-piece. It has little shorty bottoms, and a top that covers the necessary parts (barely). No one is around today, so who cares?
8 P. M.
Sunburned witches: 1
Um, ouch. I haven't been in the sun much this summer. And well, I don't tan that well, anyway. So the fact that I fell asleep for three hours in that lovely California sun was kind of dumb on my part.
I hadn't meant to fall asleep, it just happened. I was floating in the pool trying to concentrate on anything that didn't have to do with Sam.
It didn't work well. I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he'd loaned the phone to someone. Or shared it. I don't know.
So I'm thinking about him and the next thing I know I'm almost drowning and Zane's pulling me up out of the water. His crazy paisley shirt and leather pants dripping, he drags me to the steps of the pool.
"Are you okay?" He pushed my hair out of my face, which felt really tight.
"Yes. I must have fallen asleep and then slipped off the raft." I walked up the steps and grabbed a towel. I handed it to him. His pants were a disaster. "I'm really sorry about your clothes. I would have been okay. When I hit the water I woke up."
He stared at me funny. "Don't worry about the clothes. You fell just as I was rounding the corner, and I thought you might drown. How long have you been out here?"
"I don't know, what time is it?"
He looked at his watch, which must have been waterproof. If it was one of the ones he picked the day we shopped, it was worth about fifty thousand dollars, so it should be protected from hell itself.
"Bronwyn, it's six o'clock."
About three hours. I looked down at my arms. They were glowing red. Not a good sign. I turned, wrapped the towel around me, and heard Zane snicker.
"What?" I faced him again.
"Well, if I were you I'd sleep on my back tonight."
Uh?
I turned and looked at my backside in the reflection of the French doors going into the kitchen. I was paper white on one side, and Mustang red on the other. Lovely.
Zane stopped laughing when he caught my eyes.
"You know what you need is some of my very special lemonade. Run upstairs and put something comfy on, and I'll mix you a batch." He ushered me through the door.
I took a shower and put on a lotion with lots of aloe. I'm not sure but I think we might be able to cook dinner on my thighs. They are so hot, I can't stand to touch them.
I just found my big Mickey Mouse T-shirt. Now if I can find something for the bottom half we'll be in good shape.
For the hell of it, I tried to call Sam again, at home this time. No answer. I left him a message.
"Call me." That's all I said.
I'm kind of proud of myself. "You stupid fucking bastard." didn't come out of my mouth and I really wanted to say it. Asshole… Stop, Bronwyn. Breathe.
I tend to focus on the negative when it comes to relationships and think the worst. But what the hell am I supposed to think when some woman is answering his phone?
Downstairs I go for refreshments and food. I think it's time for some steak and maybe chocolate. Not necessarily in that order.
* * *
Chapter Eighteen
Beverly Hills, California
Potions: 3
Hungover witches with angry boyfriends: 1
So here's what I remember from last night: That harmless "special lemonade" was a combination of triple sec, Grand Marnier and Jack Daniel's. Unfortunately, I drank at least a pitcher before I bothered to ask what was in it.
Zane had Jacques, his favorite L.A. chef, come in and fix us steaks with about six different side dishes. There were potatoes, green beans, mushrooms, hominy and more. I can't remember everything, but I tasted it all.
Determined to eat away my troubles, I feasted like there wasn't going to be an extra ten pounds on me tomorrow.
When I asked the chef for a second steak, Zane made the mistake of saying, "Is anything wrong?"
The tears flowed. I'm sure it was the combination of sunburn, liquor and the fact that I almost died a few weeks ago.
He closed the door between the kitchen and dining room. Moving his chair next to mine, he took my hands.
"Whatever it is, love, tell me. Maybe I can help."
I sniffled. "You can't help. You're one of them."
"One of who?"
"Stupid men." I sobbed. It's so embarrassing in hindsight, but I couldn't stop crying.
He hugged me. "Yes, we can be. Does this have something to do with your doctor?"
"Stop being understanding." I pushed at his shoulder. "You're a big famous rock star. You love 'em and leave 'em. I bet you have twenty women in every town in the world who want to sleep with you. Hell, you've got millions. That's what I need to do. Just love 'em and leave 'em."
"So, what did the doctor do?" He ignored my rants.
"He just left and went to save the world and some girl answered his phone. She laughed at me."
"Who laughed at you?" Zane looked at me like I wa
s a child.
"The woman who answered Sam's phone." I was incredulous. How could he not understand?
"So a strange woman answered your boyfriend's phone and that's sent you off the edge?" He had a knowing look in his eyes. About damn time.
Using a napkin, he dabbed the end of my nose. I'm sure I looked most attractive with snot running down my sunburned face.
"Yes." I pouted.
Then I started crying again. Big heaving sobs. He pulled me against him, careful not to touch my sunburn. He patted my back, which was fire free. And whispered soothing words.
That's when I noticed his mouth. Zane's lips are so perfect. Not too big or small, and they are shaped like an M. He'd kissed me one day when he'd been excited, but it was just a peck. I wondered what it would be like to kiss him with more passion.
When I looked up to his face, I could see he was thinking about kissing me too.
I don't know how, but I pushed away. The motion seemed to draw him to attention. "Sorry, love. You just looked so sweet there staring up at me."
"It's okay. Zane?"
"Yes?"
I stared at him. "Right now, more than anything, I need a friend."
He smiled and took my hand. "You've got it, love. You've saved my life so many times I've stopped counting. I'll be whatever you want. What's say we get you that other steak?"
I nodded.
That's when Simone came in.
"What the fuck happened? Zane, did you make her cry?" she yelled at him.
He held up his hands. "No."
I started laughing. She's a tough one, but you gotta love Simone. She's always there for her friends.
She stared at me. "What happened? Someone answer me or I'm gonna kick both your asses."
That made me laugh harder.
Zane obviously valued his ass more than I do mine. He told her what happened with Sam.
"Bronwyn, you know he loves you. He wouldn't do anything to hurt you." Simone was serious.
She should know. When I was off with Azir a few months ago, she'd come to Sweet to recuperate from a nasty demon attack. Sam had taken care of her for me, and she tried to get in his pants. He didn't take what she offered. Thank God. She told me all about it, but before I could kill her, she said she'd done it for me. She couldn't believe there was a guy who could resist her charms. But Sam was one of them. If his love was that strong, she figured we should go full throttle toward happily ever after.
Just one problem. I don't think happily ever after is in my deck of playing cards.
I knew he loved me, or he had. "I know that, I do." And I did. "But a woman answered his phone, there's no getting around it."
She was about to say something but stopped. "Well, it's been my experience that most men are scum." She waved a hand and pointed at Zane. "Present company excluded. So, are we drowning our sorrows in booze and food? Because I could use both."
As buzzed as I felt, I realized something must have happened. Simone does a lot of wild and crazy things, but drinking isn't one of them. She must have cleaned up after the fight, because she smelled like cinnamon. She was dressed in denim shorts and a cutesy white T-shirt. Very un-Simone. She's usually dressed head to toe in leather, or low, tight jeans.
Zane went to tell the chef to throw some more steaks on the grill.
"Did you find the demons?"
She put her head in her hands, and stared at the table. "Yes."
I walked around and touched her shoulder. She's not real big on touching. When she didn't flinch, I squeezed her shoulder.
"Tell me," I whispered.
"I tracked them to a house in the mountains. They'd been taking victims there for a couple of weeks. The blood trails were strong. I had no idea how many of them were there. But when I busted in…"
She sighed. "Sometimes this job… I never know what I'm going to find."
"You don't have to talk, but I'm here."
She looked up at me. "I actually want to, but I don't want to give you the same visuals. It's too much."
So much pain in those green eyes.
"Tell me, Simone. I can take it."
She shook her head. "You probably are one of the few who could." She paused. "They were feeding on pregnant women." Turning her head, she pounded the table. She stood. Paced back and forth.
"I won't tell you exactly what I saw, but I saved the baby. I couldn't save the mother." Her voice was hushed. Hurt rode there, harsh and abrasive.
"The father was at the hospital. I couldn't face him. I gave the baby to the medical staff and told them what happened. The spook squad informed the families. I watched the husband fall to his knees. I heard his cries. I didn't get there in time to save his wife."
I saw Zane at the door. His eyes were glassy, and I knew he held tears back. So did I. Simone needed us to be strong.
I suddenly felt way too sober for the conversation. "Simone, you saved the baby and countless other lives by destroying the hive. You have to focus on the good."
Simone shook her head. "Bron, I've seen so much shit, but what they did to those women…"
There would be no soothing her. I whispered a small spell to give her some peace. Not to take anything way, just to help her deal with the trauma.
Zane walked in with the steaks and put them on the table, followed by the chef who held a huge cake. Pouring Simone a glass of "lemonade," Zane waited while she took a long drink. When she smiled, he refilled the glass.
The cake tasted like the inside of Oreos mixed with chocolate pudding. The frosting was like a stiff mousse. Yummers.
We were bloated, drunk and decided we needed to exercise.
But instead of the gym, Zane took us to the home theater.
It was huge. With big leather recliners, a projector screen and a stage. He turned on a karaoke machine and video camera. We sang "I Will Survive," and made our own music video.
Then we took turns doing solo performances. I warbled through Patsy Cline's "Walkin' After Midnight." Simone chose "Hey Jude." And Zane cracked us up with a rendition of Eminem's old song "Mockingbird."
Zane the rock star as a rapper. He was hilarious, and actually, pretty damn good. If this day job doesn't work out, he might do well in Detroit. Though he'd have to dog it down a bit, and throw away the Versace.
I laughed so much my stomach actually hurts today.
The next thing I knew it was morning and my cell phone was ringing. I couldn't open my eyes, but reached around trying to find the phone.
Zane answered it. "Hello? Who? Oh, yes, yes. Just a moment."
He handed me the phone. I squinted and noticed we were in my bed. Fully clothed. Simone was hanging off the other side.
"This is Bronwyn." I tried to sound businessy, even though there was a woodpecker stabbing his beak into the middle of my forehead.
"Who was that?" Sam's question made me sit up in the bed. Grabbing my head with the pain.
"What?" I needed a moment.
"The man who answered your phone, Bronwyn. Who was he?"
"Oohh. Zane. Where are you?" I needed to change the subject. As dull as my brain was, I knew that was necessary.
"I'm home." He sounded sullen.
"You sound tired. Is everything okay?"
Then I remembered about the woman who answered his phone. I was supposed to be angry with him.
"I called to tell you I was back. Obviously you're busy."
It took me a minute. "No, no. I was asleep. Oh, no, it isn't what you think. We just passed out. Simone and Zane… We all had a bit too much to drink last night and… well to be honest I'm not sure how we ended up here, but nothing happened." I rattled on.
"Bronwyn, I can't deal with this right now." He was angry.
"Wait a minute. Before you go off on one of your I-can't-trust-the-world speeches, I'll have you know that I called your phone yesterday and a woman answered. So tell me, Sam. Who answered your phone?"
He grunted. "I don't know."
"That's not an answer, Sam.
You can think the worst of me, I'm trying not to do that with you." Well I was, but hell.
"I don't know because my phone was stolen while we were in I the jungle. I was going to give you my new number but right now I see very little use in it."
He hung up.
Argh!
Stupid men. Stolen phone. Argh!
Why were his stories always so much better than mine? It wasn't fair.
I've got to mix some more hangover potions for all of us. Then, when my brain stops beating against my skull, I'll try calling him gain.
So, I was in bed with Zane and Simone. It wasn't like anything happened. Of course he didn't know that, but still.
Oh, crap.
* * *
Chapter Nineteen
Wednesday, 4 P. M.
Beverly Hills, California
Chants: 5
Spells: 3
Witches with new Marc Jacobs sparkly Mary Janes: 1
I couldn't stop him. Trust me, I tried.
Zane proclaimed today National Shopping Till We Drop Day. Cabin fever had infected his mind and he had to get out of the house.
With Simone and me in tow, we hit Rodeo Drive first. I saw it some in London, but we are even more celebrity crazed here. For most of the day we were able to hold the general public away from Zane, but that didn't keep the salespeople from falling all over themselves to please him.
We began the day, as all good shoppers should, at the Giorgio Armani Boutique. My mom's the shopaholic of our family, but I do have penchant for clean lines, fantastic shoes and anything that makes my butt look good.
After Armani, we made stops at Prada, Chanel, Louis Vuitton and Hugo Boss. Simone, who lives in leather pants (harder for demon claws to get through) and minuscule tops, actually got into the fun.
I think maybe she needed something to take her mind off of the demon battle yesterday.
In Prada, Zane insisted we try on these awesome shoes.
"If you ever tell anyone how much I'm enjoying this, I'll slit your throat," Simone whispered while we paraded in front of the mirrors looking at our fabulous legs in Prada heels.
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