Don't Hex and Drive

by Juliette Cross

  “No,” I agreed. “You didn’t.”

  He smiled wider. “Would you please accept my apology?”

  “For what exactly?” I tilted my head as if I had no idea what that might be. My heart pounded far too fast, making my voice shaky. But I’d gotten my ass handed to me more than once the past few days from my sisters over me and my bicycle, so I actually wanted to hear this apology to the fullest.

  He clasped his hands tighter, glancing down at them before spearing me with an intense expression fixed with compassion. “For hitting you with my car. You were right.” His voice dropped soft and deep, a combination I didn’t particularly like coming from him. “It was entirely my fault. I’d been driving too many hours without rest, which is no excuse, but I must’ve lost my concentration on the road. So, I apologize for causing you any harm or distress.”

  Hmm. Well, that was a pretty damn good apology, I had to admit.

  Satisfied, I wiped my right hand on my already dirty pants and held it out to him. “Apology accepted.”

  Without hesitation, he reached out and engulfed my hand with his own. I shook once then pulled my hand back, not liking the fact that even his handshake was intense. Like the potency of magic that filled his frame couldn’t help but reach out and zap anyone within touching distance. His aura was even pushy.

  The soft clucking of Fred, Violet’s rooster, drew my attention to him as he wandered behind and around me, pretending he hadn’t noticed us. Like I didn’t know exactly what he wanted. I tell you, a cocky rooster was worse than a cat with their snotty attitudes. He circled back to my right, posting with his head bobbing. He wore a rainbow-striped tie—that was a new one. Heaving a small sigh, I decided to put him out of his misery. “Come here, Fred.”

  He gave a deep-throated cluck, eyeing Devraj, like he hadn’t been after my attention this whole time. Or maybe he was protecting his hen, aka me, from the dangerous vampire. What a cutie.

  I rubbed a fingertip along his chest feathers. He didn’t like being touched on the head. My magic responded as quick as taking a breath, flowing river-like from my chest, down my arm, and out through my fingertip. The effortless sensation of pure magic pouring from the energy in the air around me, sending a droplet into the rooster, took all of five seconds. Fred swaggered off, fluttering his feathers with the zing of magic pumping through him.

  That’s when I realized I’d just used my magic in front of my annoying new neighbor/former assailant. Not that I cared that he’d watched, but it was something I tended to do in private or only around family and friends. But the look of shock and awe on his face made it worth it.

  “Did you just…?” He paused and pointed toward Fred retreating back to the coop in the back. ”Did you just use magic to extend life to a rooster?”

  I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, refusing to roll my eyes yet again, then stood up. He stood along with me. He wouldn’t understand. That rooster owned a piece of Violet’s cold, snarky heart. Just like Zombie Cat did of Evie’s. So yes, I used my magic to extend their lives. Not make them immortal or anything, because that was impossible, but extend I could and would do until they were ready to let go.

  Ignoring his question, I gave him the first smile since our brief acquaintance. “Apology accepted. And now our business is at an end. I doubt we’ll have any reason to see each other, so I wish you well.”

  And I honestly did. Even cocky bastards like him needed well-wishing from time to time.

  “I still have to return your bike.” His discerning and unsettling gaze swept over my face.

  “Not a problem. Just prop it under the garage.”

  No need for interaction of any kind.

  “I’m sure we’ll see each other around the neighborhood.”

  “Not likely.” I rocked on my heels, waiting for him to excuse himself and leave. I wasn’t going to be that rude and kick him out. But I was eyeing the greenhouse and thinking of bolting to my hiding space if he lingered much longer.

  He eased forward in that vampire way of his, sidling closer without being seen doing so. He tugged on a strand of my hair that dangled against my arm, then let go just as quickly. I frowned and stepped back, definitely ready to escape to my greenhouse.

  But by then he was turning away, muttering under his breath, “We’ll see.”

  Chapter 4

  ~ISADORA~

  * * *

  I stood sleepy-eyed at the kitchen sink, feeling out of sorts. All week, I’d been plagued by the presence of our new neighbor. First of all, he played his music way too loud. I begrudgingly admitted—only to myself—that the upbeat Hindi music was quite pleasant to listen to while working in the greenhouse.

  But then he had to do his shirtless yoga every day! Except for Friday. I didn’t catch a glimpse of him through the fence on Friday on my way to water the pansies. Instead of yoga, he decided to wash his car in the driveway. I just happened to notice when I was pulling up weeds around the front gate. There really weren’t many weeds since I pulled them up a few days ago, but curb appeal is so important! My sudden interest in our front garden had nothing to do with the unobstructed view of a certain vampire bent over his hood, his muscular legs flexed in those shorts, his wet T-shirt clinging to his chest.

  No surprise that he attracted a few admirers. I thought the girls sitting on their porch sipping iced tea across the street were going to drown in their own puddle of drool. So sad they had no idea how arrogant he really was.

  I rubbed my forehead in frustration. “Jules, have you seen a package for me?” I grumbled.

  I pulled a strawberry yogurt from the fridge, then opened my box of granola.

  “Sorry. No.” Jules sat at the dining room table, coffee in one hand, her eyes on her tablet as she scrolled through the news. Her morning ritual.

  I poured a glass of orange juice and frowned when I shut the fridge door. My friendly-reminder list was half hidden by other crap. It was actually a to-do list to keep everyone organized for the month, but I always thought a friendly-reminder list sounded more positive. I moved the two papers blocking my spreadsheet. A pizza coupon for Violet’s favorite take-out place. And some flyer for a poetry reading at The Boho Lounge. Definitely Clara’s. I wondered when she’d ever get the nerve to read her own.

  After scooping three spoonfuls of granola into a bowl, I peered out the kitchen window into our neighbor’s back yard. I couldn’t help myself.

  Thursday morning, I’d caught him in an enticing yoga pose, shirtless, barefoot, and in a pair of loose workout pants. I’d frozen completely on the path to my greenhouse. There was only a wrought iron gate and a row of azalea bushes blocking my view, so it was hard not to look. I was watching the rivulet of sweat roll down the indention of his spine when I felt his gaze on me. A fleeting glimpse of his curving smile had me zipping away and hiding in my greenhouse till it was dark. I tried not to admit it to myself, but he truly was a beautiful man. And who wouldn’t want to catch a glimpse of that body each morning? More than a pick-me-up than caffeine, really.

  Finding no sign of him in his yard, I combined my yogurt with the granola, and then picked up my orange juice to join Jules at the table.

  The thought of that half-naked, sweaty, and limber vampire had unfortunately made me wonder yet again where my package was. I’d checked my tracking number that claimed it was delivered. Couldn’t have been Evie who picked it up since she slept over at Mateo’s again last night. I needed to check with the others. Maybe it was delivered to Maybelle’s. That had happened on occasion since our mailman knew us and dropped so many deliveries to the shop.

  Jules’s scowl, more pronounced than usual, told me she was reading bad news. What’s new, right?

  “So…what’s going on in the world today?”

  Jules and I were always the first up. I enjoyed our morning chats together, even if they tended to focus on the insanity going on outside our quiet bubble on Magazine Street. She read the news while I doodled my lists that somehow kept me centere
d.

  “More details about the last girl that went missing. Did you know she was last seen at Barrel Proof?”

  Taking a sip of orange juice, I shook my head. “No, I didn’t.” I scribbled a new list onto my Steno pad absent-mindedly. This particular one was inspired by a yoga-loving neighbor.

  But Jules’s comment had me thinking about those girls again. Barrel Proof was only a few blocks down from our house.

  “That’s two girls taken from that bar. The other two also from pubs in the Garden District.”

  This was the first time I could remember supernaturals targeting humans in such a terrible crime. Though I didn’t want to ask because I was afraid of the answer, I didn’t want to be ignorant either. “Have they found any bodies yet?”

  As of now, we weren’t exactly sure what was happening to the kidnapped women. I mean, we could imagine the worst, but none of us had spoken about it without any evidence to go on. Not yet.

  She shook her head, eyes on the article. “No.”

  “What does Ruben say?”

  She tapped the screen to close the article and lifted her coffee, her gaze swiveling out the kitchen window. Her posture stiffened and her mouth pursed as she either considered or ignored my question. I wasn’t sure which.

  “Jules?” I prompted.

  Turning to me, she cupped her mug with both hands. Circles were smudged under her gray-blue eyes, her focus sharp and flinty. With no makeup on, which was as typical for her as it was for me, her dark hair in a short bob framed a pale face. Whereas I spent a good deal of time outside and in the garden, she spent most of hers indoors at the Cauldron. Her lack of sun and obvious lack of sleep gave her a fragility I didn’t like to see her wear.

  “Ruben and his men are sure it’s a vampire, but that’s as far as they’ve gotten,” she finally said. “He’s brought in an expert to help. A Stygorn.”

  “Really?” Now that was interesting. I scribbled on my pad again. “I’ve never met one before.”

  “Yes, you have.” Her brows rose in accusation. She looked so much like our mother in that moment I almost laughed. Until I realized who she meant. Which knocked the smile right off my face.

  I glanced out the wall of windows that faced the side of our neighbor’s house, my mouth falling open in shock. I dropped the spoon in my bowl, the metal clinking against the glass.

  “That conceited, materialistic man is a Stygorn?”

  Jules frowned, obviously not on board with my blatant character assassination.

  “From those I spoke with, he’s one of the best. His reputation is stellar in the field. He’s never failed to find his quarry.”

  Picking up my spoon, I took a bite, crunching my granola angrily. “You vetted him?” I asked around a mouthful before shaking my head to myself. “Of course, you did. What was I thinking?”

  Jules was extremely efficient and competent as an Enforcer of the supernaturals in our district. Not that my other sisters weren’t good at what they did, but Jules took her job to another level. Since Enforcers held a power greater than vampires, she was in charge of keeping the lot of us in line here in New Orleans. And she took her job very seriously.

  “So you trust Ruben to lead the investigation?”

  “Why shouldn’t I?”

  She didn’t snap the question but the steadiness of her voice was a little too forced, too measured. I wasn’t going to answer her with the truth, because that would open up another conversation I knew she wasn’t ready to have yet. Maybe not ever.

  A fleeting image from last Christmas popped into my head. Jules wasted out of her mind on JJ’s special eggnog at our sisters’ birthday party, her head halfway in the toilet while I held a cool rag and mouthwash at the ready.

  Her slurred angry words echoed in the toilet bowl. “Does he think I’m an idiot?” When I asked who she was talking about and wiped her face with the cloth, she mumbled, “You know who. Everyone does.”

  When I put her to bed, she rolled over and looked up at me, stormy eyes glassy with emotion. “But it doesn’t matter, Is’dora.” She gave me a sad, sad smile. One that pierced straight through my heart. “Not anymore.”

  When I picked her phone off the bathroom floor, I couldn’t help but notice who she’d been texting at the party before she’d guzzled too much of that Bourbon-spiked eggnog. I also couldn’t help seeing that one glimpse of texts exchanged between them before I turned her phone off and set it on her nightstand.

  After finishing my last bite of yogurt and granola, I took my bowl to the sink without answering. No need to dredge up that night. She’d pretend it never happened. Or maybe she was so drunk she couldn’t remember what she’d said. Anyway, best to leave it alone.

  I rinsed my bowl and spoon, then loaded them in the dishwasher. “I just thought you might take the lead since this is a bigger problem than the norm. I mean, we could be talking about murdered women, Jules.”

  She walked over to the coffee pot and poured herself another cup. “Possibly. But Ruben is keeping me updated on the progress, and he’s being vigilant. He has more access to the vampire world, of course, so it makes sense for him to continue. Plus, he’s the one who hired the services of a Stygorn.”

  “Right,” I agreed, finishing my orange juice and loading my glass into the dishwasher. “Had you met this Stygorn before?”

  “Devraj Kumar?”

  “Yes.” I cleared my throat. I reached over to the table and ripped the list off my Steno pad, intending to throw it away. “Him.”

  His name sparked a frantic, fluttery sensation in my stomach. I’d sensed he was powerful, but I hadn’t suspected he was one of the Stygorn. A vampire born of one of the ancients whose level of intuition, gift of glamour, strength, and speed was unparalleled by any other supernatural. The only one with more power than the Stygorn was a Siphon witch like Jules. Except the Stygorn’s level of power also gave them the ability to evade and/or harm Siphons by stealth. Fortunately, most took their gift of advanced magic responsibly. To belong to the Stygorn Guild was an elite class all its own, and they kept each other in line.

  She leaned back against the countertop, one hand propped on the butcher block. “No, not personally. Ruben had mentioned him on occasion. They’ve known each other a while, it seems. And Devraj was the one who acquired that book we needed to help Mateo.”

  I frowned, remembering Evie retelling the whole story when Livvy and I had first gotten home. How some vampire had to travel into the Carpathian Mountains, full of dangerous werewolf packs, in order to get this rare book from a witch who lived there. For some reason, the idea of Devraj—perfect clothes and hair, expensive luxury car, ridiculous swagger and charm—didn’t fit my vision of one of the elite, lethal Stygorn.

  “Well, I’m sure Ruben has it all in hand.” I grabbed my big bag off the counter, stuffed my pen and pad inside as well as that list, then looped the thick strap across my chest, double-checking I’d packed the treats. I had.

  I wished her a good day then trekked through the courtyard and out a back gate that led to the back of our shop, Mystic Maybelle’s. We’d named the place after our grandmother who’d suggested we buy the empty place next door to the Cauldron and open our own shop. Clara ran Maybelle’s, but I handled the inventory and bookkeeping. Livvy took care of the marketing and promotions for both the shop and the bar. Violet and Evie waitressed at the Cauldron while Jules was the chef.

  When I unlocked and swung open the back door, I heard the music from the musical Chicago and the undeniable off-key accompaniment of Clara’s voice singing “All That Jazz.”

  She was stacking our newest shipment of Tarot cards on the square center display. But she wasn’t just stacking. She was shimmying and shaking her bum to the lively twenties music and singing at the top of her lungs while she did it. Even though she couldn’t carry a tune to save her life, she was the cutest thing I’d ever seen.

  When she rounded the center display and saw me standing there, she shrieked and threw a deck of c
ards in the air. With a quick leap toward her, I caught it in the air.

  She laughed and turned down the volume on her phone. “You scared me.”

  “Sorry. Say, did a package come in for me?”

  She glanced over at the two boxes near the display. “No. I’ve gone through everything we have.”

  I needed to email the vendor and see what was up. “I’ll be back soon to work on the books,” I called as I headed out the front entrance.

  I strode down the street under the shop awnings, only the coffee shops and breakfast cafes open this early. I’d opted for a shorter flowy skirt that hit just above my knee and a loose white tee with my lace-up gladiator sandals. The sun was just peeking between the buildings, but it promised to be a hot one. It was still May, but the temps were already hitting lower eighties midday. This morning, it felt wonderful.

  I skirted around some café round-tops along the sidewalk and pulled a ponytail holder from my wrist, twisting my hair into a messy bun. I couldn’t help the smile plastered on my face, thinking of seeing Archie, as I approached Ruben’s Rare Books and Brew. Perhaps that’s why I wasn’t paying attention to the man approaching from a parked car outside the bookstore.

  “Isadora.”

  My gaze snapped up. I gave a small wave and tried to skirt wide without stopping for conversation.

  “Hold up.”

  No such luck. He moved directly in my path, forcing me to stop.

  Inhaling deep, I straightened my posture. “Morning, Devraj.” I fiddled with a loose thread on the hem of my skirt, letting my gaze skate everywhere but his face. Clearing my throat, I asked, “Can I help you with something?”

  He’d worn his long, black hair up in his own messy bun—just like he did when he stretched his body into inhuman contortions in his backyard—but it did nothing to make him look casual. That was probably because his steely blue button-up had a silken sheen, and even rolling it up his forearms didn’t diminish his style. His sleek black pants and shiny shoes completed the pretty persona I expected of him.