He pushed Ramon and scanned the bar, noting that Nicola and Coco waited on the far side of the table. He breathed deeply, pulling the tiger back into himself. He nodded then, moving to Coco’s side. As a group, they moved toward the exit. When he reached the door, a beefy hand grasped his shoulder. Antonio shot a deadly look at the bear shifter.
“I send da boss on break. But you do shit like that in here again…”
Antonio had to let the thick, German accent process before he understood the man’s words. He nodded. “He knows who did this to Coco. And she’s my mate.”
The big man stared down at him, as though reading Antonio’s very soul. “Ja. I see.” He glanced around. “Boss comes back soon. You need extra fist?”
He considered the offer for a moment. “You think a half-assed witch will be able to take on a 500-pound tiger?” He arched a brow.
The bouncer whistled. “I hear you tell Coco you were Siberian. Didn’t think tiger.”
Antonio grinned. “She didn’t either.” He winked at the man. “Name’s Antonio Silva. I might be back in soon.”
The bear shifter clasped his hand in his massive grip. “Gregory. I’m here always. You need help, call at me.” He nodded for emphasis, his bald head gleaming in the neon lights of the bar. He reached into the pocket of his jacket, fishing out a card. “Anytime.”
* * *
Ramon and Miguela lived in a run-down neighborhood. Clearly being a witch for hire didn’t pay as well as Ramon had hoped back in the old days. Thankfully, it was within walking distance of the bar; Coco was focused enough that he didn’t have to watch every step she took. She lost her balance only once, giving a delicate growl of frustration when she stubbed her toe on a crack in the pavement. He wanted to help her more. He wanted to pick her up, carry her over all the perils before them, not just tonight, but forever. But he had the feeling that if he tried to enforce his dominance over her, she’d do her best to assert her independence. It was the Siberian way, after all. Her submission had to be freely given, and on her own terms.
So he’d let her walk on her own, allowing her to take help when she needed it. Her hair gleamed in the moonlight; with the mats combed free, it hung to her shoulder blades. Before Nicola had braided it, it had waved and curled; even in the dim light of the bar he’d been able to see it had been a riot of color.
“Your picture showed you had blue eyes and auburn hair.” She reached out and gripped his arm as they turned into a dingy side street. Ramon led the way, egged on by the sharp words of his mother.
“Contact lenses and hair dye. Had to fit the corporate image.”
He paused. “Listen…”
“What?” She stared into the darkness, moving her head to catch sounds on the evening breeze. “I don’t hear anything.”
He grinned, looking down at her. “You’re making perfect sense, and you haven’t even had an orgasm!”
She smacked his arm and then laughed. “That damn thing is out of my hair. Maybe when we get the other half, I’ll get my…” She broke off, clearly disturbed. “Antonio, what if my animal is gone forever?” She whispered so quietly, he barely heard her. “What if the witch… killed it?”
“It isn’t dead, Coco. I don’t think any of us could survive losing our animal that way. It’s alive and well.” But the thought scared him just the same. She wouldn’t have managed much longer if he hadn’t come along. Coco couldn’t have lived much longer on the streets, subsisting on protein bars and sports drink. Sooner or later, something -- or someone -- would have taken her.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and they began walking again. If it had been somewhere else, maybe another time, it would have been a romantic evening. But before them, a little ramshackle stucco house cast malevolent yellow light from the windows. Above them, thunder rumbled. Very soon, it would rain.
Chapter Ten
“Hmm.”
Miguela Cruz stood in the doorway of a greasy little kitchen, studying Antonio and Coco. She sized up the dress she wore and then evaluated the man at Coco’s side. Coco narrowed her eyes at the taller woman, daring her to make a move on Antonio.
“You’re the lawyer.”
Coco didn’t answer; she didn’t trust that she could get the words out properly. Fury boiled through her, and beside her she felt Antonio’s anger rising. Frankly, the stupid bitch didn’t know what she was drawing to the surface.
She studied the witch, who sauntered into the living room, shadowed by her husband. She wasn’t what Coco had expected. She’d pictured Ramon’s wife as a witch… literally. And in a sense, she fit the bill. But instead of the traditional white garb Nicola wore, Miguela dressed in jeans and a flowing tunic the color of emerald. She was bi-racial, her tightly curled hair was bleached nearly white and fell to her shoulders in a frenetic froth of corkscrews. It was her guess that Tia Nicola had nothing to do with that hairstyle.
“I’d imagined you’d be dead by now. That was his intention.”
“Who? Whose intention?” She stepped forward, coming to a stop when the woman turned and glared down at her. Something passed behind her eyes. Something Coco recognized. She stepped forward, hands fisted and a blaze of fury in her heart. The witch moved backward another step, and Coco followed her into the living room.
“She has my animal.” She turned to Antonio. “She has it, Antonio! She has my animal!” The pupils of his eyes elongated. His nostrils flared. If they hurt the witch, they stood the chance of killing her husky.
The witch leaned against the wall, arms crossed over her ample bosom. “I wouldn’t take some stupid little revenge job if there wasn’t an ample payout. And shifters are just a kick while their human still lives. Besides, you guys can’t be parted completely from the animal; that would kill you too quickly. There’s still a little of you in each other.”
“Just like there’s a little of you in this.” Nicola stepped up beside Coco, holding the red twine out in front of her. For a moment, fear reflected in Miguela’s eyes. The older woman turned toward her son. “Ramon, call the person who owns the other half of this rope. Now.”
“I can’t do that, Mama.” His smile was chilling and automatically, Coco moved closer to Antonio, clasping his hand. A chill spread through the room, and it had nothing to do with the storm outside.
“Ramon. What did you do?” Nicola clutched her fist around the twine, holding it to her chest. “What did you teach that woman?”
The scarred man grinned, reaching out to clasp the hand of his wife. “All the things you never taught me, Mama. All the things I had to learn from others.”
The older woman made a sound of contempt, waving her hands as though to brush him away. “She has no skill. No strength. You know the truth, Ramon. I taught you better than to walk this path!”
Ramon twirled the white fedora on his hand, and then resettled it on his jet-black hair. He grinned again, snapped his fingers and laughed.
Nicola’s eyes went wide. “Antonio, run!” She clasped Coco by the arm, pulling her out of the room. When Antonio turned to follow, he came up against an invisible barrier, unable to leave the living room.
“My lovely Miguela was smart enough to trick you. She was strong enough to trap a tiger!” He reached into a pocket, slowly pulling a length of red twine from it. He dangled it in the air, taunting Coco. “She’s powerful enough to read the cards, Mama, and see things you never imagined… like Antonio finding true love with lawyer named Chloe O’Shea. Her animal was just a bonus.”
His smile was hideous and Coco fought between the need to lunge for the other half of the twine or running into Antonio’s arms. Inside the ring, he shook his head and roared, his body shifting uncontrollably. Hands sprouted claws and then they receded. He tossed his head, teeth lengthening into fangs.
“Run! Coco, get out of here!” His voice was tinged with fury and fear.
Nicola pressed the red twine into her hand. “Run. You cannot help, Coco. As long as you hold this, they can’t hurt you with
out hurting her.”
“But when we kill her, we’ll have the soul of her animal.” Miguela was quickly drawing rough shapes on the floor, dipping her fingers into a bowl of blood. Behind her, Nicola murmured, chanting in Portuguese. Inside the circle, Antonio was down on his knees, still battering the invisible barrier of the circle in which he was entrapped. He looked ill and in pain, as though they were ripping the soul from his body. Coco remembered the feeling well, except she’d awakened in the circle, frightened and confused.
Miguela screamed as she sent an invisible surge of blazing hot power in their direction. Coco dropped to the floor, watching in amazement as a surge of water manifested from the air, soaking the colorless flame the white-haired witch was drawing upon. She cursed and Coco rolled, looking up just in time to see Nicola draw her hands through the air; when she pushed, winds whipped through the room, pinning Miguela against the wall. For now, the witch was disabled.
She glanced across the room, checking on Antonio. He was back in his human form, rising to his feet, throwing himself at the perimeter of the circle. She checked the floor, looking to see if she could disrupt the power, but a heavy carpet covered the floor. She feared that Ramon would begin the attack on Antonio once again, but he was on his knees, ignoring the commotion. A look of intense concentration was on his face. Cold fear washed over her.
“Nicola… She was just a distraction… Ramon, what’s he doing?” Nicola kept one hand extended, holding the other witch in place. She looked at her son. Her face took on a ghastly hue.
“Oh, Ramon, what have you done, my child? That is forbidden. Forbidden!” Her voice was little more than a fearful groan. Miguela dropped from her grasp, slipping to the floor. She crawled on hands and knees to the side of Ramon, her face a mask of fear, excitement and obscene lust.
“Tia Nicola, what are they doing?”
Coco rushed to the edge of the circle, stopping short when Nicola caught her arm, stopping her. “Coco, you will be trapped with him. I cannot control what is about to happen. You must leave. Now.”
“Why?” she cried. “What’s happening?” She crawled closer to Antonio, who was on his side, fully human, but stunned, unable to speak. His eyes were golden and wild, the only part of him showing his stark fear. Once again, the witch pulled her away. “They are not taking his animal. They’re using him as an offering… a sacrifice. Now we must go. There is no time. No time!”
Even as the words left her mouth, a heavy fog began to gather at the center of the room, just feet away from where Antonio lay. That’s when she realized what the witches had done. Coco scrambled backward on her bottom, hearing Miguela’s fearful, hysterical laughter. This was a summoning, and her mate was the sacrifice. A scream built in her throat but was trapped there. She clutched the twine, helpless to do anything to rescue her mate, to stop this atrocity. She skirted the circle, lifting a heavy vase from a table, creeping up behind Miguela, who was oblivious to her presence.
The form in the circle was massive, towering above the shifter; color and smoke and the stench of sulfur filled the room. Ramon finally seemed to sense the danger they were all in. He fell backwards, hitting the wall behind him, sliding to the floor. In the circle, the smoke began to concentrate and coalesce, forming the shape of a person… a human. A man. Even as she watched, clothing began to form, hair and hands and a face took shape. There on the floor, Antonio lay, his shoulders shaking, and unexpectedly, he burst out in laughter. Loud, hearty laughter. Blood trickled from his nose and ears, yet he laughed.
The demon looked around the room and frowned his annoyance. His pressed white shirt was open at the cuffs, unbuttoned to the middle of his muscular abdomen. Otherwise, his impeccably designed suit was still perfect. Two tiny horns protruded through his silky brown hair.
“Antonio, what in Heaven’s name is going on here? You interrupted us just as things were getting interesting.” He slipped a heavy gold link back through the French cuff of his shirt. “I can think of two tigers who are no doubt very displeased right now.”
Coco blinked. She’d never met Jedidiah Wormwood Worth in person before, but recognized his voice. She’d spoken to him on the phone before… Back when Jasper had gone to work for him. She clutched the twine in her hand tightly. Her memory was coming back and many, many important pieces of information came with it. Antonio coughed, tried to rise and fell back. The annoyance on the demon’s face shifted, and he was suddenly suave and urbane.
“Someone summed a demon?” He looked around the room, his dark gaze settled on Coco momentarily. He then moved on to the two witches whose courage was slowly returning. In fact, Ramon was looking disgusted, as though he’d been cheated. Clearly, a handsome, well-dressed man wasn’t what he was expecting. However, Miguela still looked stunned. Perhaps she sensed the power of the demon before her. Perhaps she truly was the more powerful -- or at least the smarter of the two.
“Jedidiah?” she whispered. He looked blandly in Miguela’s direction.
“I suppose this is the sacrifice you’re offering for my service?”
Ramon stood, hands on his hips and an ugly sneer on his face. “What kind of demon are you anyway? You look like a lawyer… like her.” He gestured dismissively at Coco, who still clutched the vase.
“Why yes, I am a lawyer. Not quite like Ms. O’Shea, though. You see, Chloe there has compassion and ethics, something I completely lack.” He smiled, and Coco shivered at the leashed evil he projected. “And since I seem to be… bound here, I haven’t much choice in what I do.” He glanced down at Antonio, who now lay quietly on his side. “Of course, your sacrifice happens to be one of my employees.” He looked blandly at Ramon. “And I’m rather fond of my staff. Good people are so hard to find.” He stepped up to the edge of the circle, just inches from Ramon. “Bad people are a dime a dozen.”
Miguela sobbed and turned sideways, avoiding his face. Jedidiah stared down at her. “I think I have the gist of this situation. You see, Miguela and I are old acquaintances. We go back many, many years.” He glanced over at Nicola. “Unlike Tia Nicola, Miguela accepted my offer to dance under the full moon back in her youth.” His full attention was on the woman. “It looks like I’m here to collect, Miguela Olivia Espinosa.”
The witch shivered, but rose to her feet in defiance. “You’re in my circle, demon!”
He looked around, obviously able to see the lines of power in the room. “So I am.” He sighed heavily. Took a phone from his pants pocket and flipped it open. “Damn. No reception. He slipped the phone back in his pocket and stared levelly at the two witches.
“You, Ramon. You sought revenge on this man because he rejected you, and then maimed you when you tried to rape him. You punished him by trying to destroy the woman you knew would become his mate. You now seek his death at the hands of a demon. My hands. But Antonio’s humiliation and death is not the end of your business tonight, is it?” He took a few steps until he faced Nicola. “This woman gave birth to you and raised you well. And tonight, you sought to drain her power, leaving her but a husk of a human. And why? Why is a man so jealous of his mother?”
Nicola raised her chin, glaring at her son. “I tried, Ramon. I tried with you. You were not an evil child. No, my son. Evil is a choice you made.”
“Shut up!” His voice was taut with anger. “Shut up!” He clutched hands to his ears. “You all make me sick! You’re nothing! Nothing!”
Jedidiah looked at Coco again, nodding at the vase she held. And that’s when she remembered the chink in Miguela’s magical armor. “Wait, Chloe.” She nodded in understanding. Jedidiah Wormwood Worth might be the most powerful demon walking the Earth, but all of his power was still contained within a circle. He’d let her know when the time was right.
“So that can’t be all, can it, Ramon? What else do you want? Sex? Money? Power? Just remember, when you bargain with the devil, there is always a price.” He knelt and lifted Antonio, bringing him to his feet. When Antonio was steady, he nodded, and then shifte
d. A huge black and white tiger prowled the circle, looking hungrily at Ramon. The tiger roared and the witch jumped back. The fool was frightened of the wrong captive! Coco watched the men carefully. She didn’t know if the demon was psychic, but they both looked alarmingly confident.
While Antonio intimidated his former friend, Jedidiah turned toward Miguela, who was edging toward the kitchen. Somehow, Coco got the feeling the woman couldn’t run from what was about to happen.
“Miguela, my dear, it is time. For whatever odd reason, the powers that be are allowing me to harvest one more soul. I suppose this is my reward for being such a good little demon since I was kicked out of hell.” He looked urbane and charming, but Miguela choked in fear. Her legs gave out and she collapsed, trying futilely to push away from the circle.
“Come closer, Miguela.” His voice was low and compelling. It was the voice of a man who was in complete control of all those around him. He stood completely still, arms at his sides, watching the petrified woman crawl in his direction.
“What sins are you bringing me? You’ve sold the innocence of the very young and have given poison to those prone to addiction. You’ve stolen lives and taken souls. Even now, you harbor something which is not yours. It is time to give it back.”
Miguela fell to the floor, her back bowed in seizure. Her hand clenched, and then opened to reveal a rusty red strand of twine. The one Ramon had flaunted was a fake. The ragged strand fell to the carpet and Coco ran forward, snatching it up and then rushing away from the woman, getting a safe distance from her.
The witch’s feet pounded the floor, and her body shook and trembled. Her teeth gnashed and flecks of bloody foam spilled from her mouth. Several feet away, Ramon broke away from the grip of fear and rushed to her side. He clasped her shoulders, doing his best to hold her down, but Miguela was knocking on the door of death, and the angels were not on the other side.
With a final scream of agony, she went limp. A ghost-like form exploded from her body, slamming into Coco and throwing her to the ground. The vase flew from her hand, spilling water on the carpet. Rusty red fluid began to leak from its shabby weave… and the circle was broken.
Final Cut Miami Voodoo You Love? Page 7
