The Problem With Hexes

by Lexi Ostrow

  “Thank you,” he nodded to the waiter who propped the door open for them. “Are you okay?”

  Deidre whirled on him, fire practically dancing her the depths of her eyes. “No. Everyone around me seems to think I’m this precious flower. Lita fucking died, unable to defend herself in another timeline, and she’s treated with more respect.”

  “I don’t think any means to disrespect you, Dee.”

  “No, of course, they don’t. That’s what it’s worse. I just don’t like to put out negative energy when I don’t have to. That doesn’t mean I can’t.”

  “Trust me, the woman I’ve seen the past few weeks is a force in her own way. I misjudged you. It happens. All that matters is you know how you truly handle things. And, not that it really matters, but I know, too.”

  Some of the anger shifted out of her stare. For a moment, he thought he might kiss her. She was so beautiful, staring up at him with power shining out of her eyes. Then Deidre’s wrist wrapped around his, and her nails bit into his arm.

  “Do you have a transport potion on you?” her eyes darted from left to right.

  “Always.”

  “Get rid of it. Now.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Throw it away.” She hissed, looking at her right arm. “My arm burns.”

  “Fuck,” Jonathon dug in his pocket and took out the small film canister holding the potion and dumped it out a foot away, making sure the green liquid didn’t dare touch them. “My throat is fine. We weren’t together last time, I have no idea if my body burned at the same time as yours.”

  Think. Think.

  “Whatever it is, we might be able to beat it. Whoever did this to us didn’t anticipate us being away from supplies.” He gestured around them. “Well, we’re without supplies.”

  “We don’t know how far the blood magic will take a wish. It could guide us somewhere.”

  Jonathon closed his eyes and focused, feeling around for any sign control had been taken from him. He found nothing, not even the smallest itch. He let his eyes pop open. “Let’s go for a walk – toward the old mint. We shouldn’t pass any shops that way just in case.”

  “It’s on fire.” She put her hand over her other arm and cried out. “Jonathon.” Her arm thrust in front of his face.

  “God,” Jonathon couldn’t look away from the six blisters on her arm. His hands fumbled to grab the wand from his pocket, but he needed the extra power. “Neró.” The rush over water hissed as it touched the burning flesh. Water poured out and turned to steam.

  His hand wrapped around her, tugging Deidre against him as she cradled her arm.

  “It’s going to eat the skin on my arm – even the muscle.” Hysteria squeaked out with the words.

  Jonathon clamped down. The hex shouldn’t have let him cast the water on her arm, but it did.

  “Ouch!” The sharp crack of his voice surprised him. His throat burned. The hex was starting. “I’m going to regret the hell out of this, but if we die, he’ll pick other people!”

  “What?” Deidre’s eye held tears as the pain in her arm likely grew intolerable.

  The burn at his throat was a little better.

  “We don’t have a choice.” I’m not letting you die. The thought hung in his mind as he steered them down Saint Peter. A warlock owned a shop a block away. If they could go get there before she passed out from the pain, they could move on with whatever the fuck this was.

  “No, Deidre stopped moving the second the shop came into view.

  Warlocks and Weeds’ neon sign flickered even in the brilliant summer sun.

  “Deidre, it’s obvious we’ll die. I don’t think this is the storm. There’s not a cloud in the sky. Whoever cast this wouldn’t want magic being suspected. This is another fucking test.” He coughed as the pain seemed to burn through his skin, making a move internally. “Now.”

  With a shove, he got her through the door. The bell chimed overhead, and Jonathon looked around for Carlos as the pain brought a layer of tears to his eyes.

  Jonathon started to tell Deidre to get what she needed, but when he glanced to his right, she wasn’t there.

  “Welcome, how can I help you?”

  “We need to cast a spell. Now,” Jonathon knew he sounded like an ass. “NOPD.” He jerked the badge from his pocket, nearly tossing it on the shop’s floor.

  Respect flashed in the man’s eyes, and he nodded. “What can I do?”

  “Just stay out of her way.” He nodded toward Deidre, who somehow levitated two potion bottles with the use of one arm and no wand – she’d clearly left it behind.

  We’re literally dead if we don’t do this. How many more tests before we drown an entire city? Jonathon clenched his jaw so tight flashes of white took over his vision. The painful burn of the controlling wish wrapped over him, and he swore he’d swallowed hot stones as the inside of his mouth began to sizzle.

  “Waves and rise, bind the tide. Lift it high.” The cast burst past his lips and seemed to shake the shop’s walls.

  The burning stopped, and he blinked away tears. His vision remained blurry, but he saw Deidre damn near lying on the floor. “Dee!”

  Jonathon dropped to his knees and skidded across the polished floor. She sobbed but lifted her head to look at him. Her dark hair tumbled in front of her face, and he forgot himself as he brushed it away, tucking it behind her ear. Tears welled up in her eyes, but did not spill until she blinked.

  “Are you okay?” She whispered, either in fear or not wanting the other warlock to hear.

  “I’m fine.” He lied. The coppery tang of blood dripped down his throat. Though he did not realize it in the shuffle, the burn left him raw and likely covered in sores. “Nothing that I can’t heal.”

  “Let me help.” The man scurried behind the counter and ducked down. “It’s here somewhere. Damn it.” Something clattered into the plastic display case before the man popped his head up. “Here,” He walked past Jonathon and crouched on the other side of Deidre. “May I?” He dangled a pearl-white jar in his hands.

  “Please.” Dee offered up her arm and didn’t flinch as the thick healing draught poured over her skin.

  Jonathan didn’t doubt it would work, but he kept his eyes on her arm, watching as the blisters melted back into her skin, and the red flesh shifted to a deep tan.

  “Are you okay?” He rasped, the pain finally settling into his body in a way he couldn’t ignore.

  “Yes, but you aren’t.” She stepped closer and placed her hand over his throat even while placing the small draught against his lips. Her eyes closed as if she sensed she needed the extra focus.

  Soon, the raging inferno that mimicked too many spices was washed away as if by milk. The pain stopped, and Jonathon dared to clear his throat. As expected, not a lick of suffering.

  “Thank you.”

  She sighed and sagged against his body. Jonathon tried to ignore the pings of need that curled through him at her touch. The need to hold her, to cuddle her against his chest, and make sure she indeed was okay, was stronger than he’d thought possible. He’d just forced them both to do god only knew what.

  “Thank you,” She whispered, only it wasn’t to Jonathon. He could tell because she’d lifted her head off his torso.

  “It was my pleasure. Mind if I ask what just happened? We don’t get a lot of weather magic in here.”

  Deidre tensed against him.

  “You know what we cast?” Could this have been an accident? Or did this man have a hand in creating the hex, and it triggered because we were finally within proximity to his shop?

  “Sure do. I’m from California. We use that often. Calls up some killer waves. Perfect for a little surfing rest and relaxation. Though, not too sure what good it’d do out here. Or why you split the cast. One person can easily do it.”

  Jonathon went still. “We summoned a tidal way.”

  “Pretty hefty one based on the mixing the lovely witch did. Names Kevin. I hope I’m not interfering with an
investigation. It’s just been a long time since I’ve witnessed anyone cast together.” He let out a low whistle.

  Jonathon wished he shared the man’s admiration. “Not interfering, though I have to ask, would you submit to a memory spell?”

  Not a flicker of concern passed over his face. If he’d been involved in the hex, Kevin no longer remembered.

  “I sure would. Especially if you think some good for nothing criminal came through Carlos’s shop. He’d be pissed.”

  “Thanks,” he tried to force a smile. “We’re good, though.” Jonathon ran his hands over Deidre’s back. “And thank you for healing her. Bad hex gone wrong.”

  Kevin snorted. “You come back any time. Old man’s a cop out in the L.A. area. I do what I can to help.”

  “Thanks.” Deidre finally pulled away from Johnathon, but she didn’t look at him. “I bet my friend, Lita, she owns Perrow’s Charms, Cures, and Curses would love to set up an event between the shops. I’ll be sure to let her know this is a good one.”

  Jonathon watched as the salt-and-pepper haired warlock flushed. “I’ve been to her shop. Carlos insisted I know all his competitors.”

  Deidre gave a small laugh. “She’ll like knowing she’s considered that. Thank you again.” Deidre pushed past Jonathon, walking toward the door with enough tension between her shoulders to last a lifetime.

  “Thanks, Kevin.” He moved to catch up, knowing full well why she harbored a cold shoulder. The door closed with a click, and Jonathon flinched at the humidity.

  There would be no next test. He was going into the station and using whatever it took to get himself an audience with the eagles tomorrow. Tomorrow, because last time you cast a spell, you both nearly passed out in Lita’s shop.

  “You’re mad.” He said by way of starting the conversation as he trailed behind her.

  “Of course, I am! We just created a massive weather issue.” Her shout drew the eyes of three people nearby. “Sorry! Bad casting. Nothing to see or hear here.”

  “It was either that or die.”

  “And why was that not an option? Too noble to die?”

  She may as well have slapped him. “Because they’d start over.”

  They stood, standing on the block of Saint Peter’s just before Bourbon Street, with the music from the bars filtering into the street, staring daggers of death at one another. Time ceased to move. His heart thumped in his chest as Jonathon grappled with the need to walk past her, to show her she hadn’t hurt him with the insinuation he was being selfish in forcing the cast.

  “I think it’s time we go back to work. It’s been a few weeks. Keep our ears to the ground, but go back. We can’t keep avoiding it, and we’ve got no way to set up a meeting with the eagles or gators without police badges backing it.”

  Deidre blinked twice. Her long dark lashes barely resting against her cheek. “That’s all you have to say?”

  “There’s nothing left to say. We need to stop this before we do something else, but I don’t know how.” His voice grew guttural. “I don’t know how to protect the people of New Orleans any better than I know how to protect you. Is that what you wanted to hear? That I forced us to cast so you wouldn’t die? Fine, fuck it. Cards on the table. You want this to be the hex. I just can’t help from wanting you.” The muscle in his jaw twitched as he stared down at her.

  “We agreed it was the hex.”

  “Sure, we did. Until Ivy said she saw us together. I’ve always found you beautiful, Dee. But there was no way in hell I was going to look at a grieving woman when all I wanted was a good time. Well,” he slipped his hand into hers. “You’re not grieving anymore. Even if I heard you cry in your sleep a few times, you aren’t grieving. So, when you decide it’s time to see if this is the fucking hex or not, I’ll be in the room next door to yours.”

  Huffing, he stalked past her, wishing he could put some real distance between them. In the span of less than twenty-one days, he’d gone from wanting nothing but to return to New York, to understanding there was something more to Deidre Adams, something he was interested in learning for himself. Something that made sticking around New Orleans no longer the metaphorical end of the world.

  Fucking hex, he snarled at no one but himself.

  Remy turned on the evening news, his lips curling into a grin at the story flashing across the bottom. “Well done.” He spoke to no one, but to everyone involved with the hex at once. There was no telling if the hex would move through to completion, but with each of the timed tests, he grew more confident of success.

  Worried didn’t cover the depth of the emotion coursing through him every single day since this began. Would the pair finally break the silencing spell and destroy the hex? Would they kill themselves? He couldn’t spy on them, and he didn’t have the funds to purchase a watcher charm.

  So, he’d sat and waited, snarking at anyone who dared piss him off. “But, they did it.”

  “Police are still looking into an unnaturally large tidal wave that started in Lake Ponchatrain. Video footage, as seen behind me, shows the wave cresting instantly, and slamming down onto the bridge. Two people lost their lives, and three others are reported missing. The United States Coast Guard deployed their rescue vessels just over three hours ago and will work diligently around the clock.”

  “Remy –”

  “Shh,” Remy’s hand lifted to silence his younger brother. Though John Paul grew silent, he stepped up behind the chair Remy sat on, the musty smell of the bayou coming with him.

  “Though weather patterns can be a bit tricky this time of year down in New Orleans, officials are certain this was an act of magic. This is Donna Taylor reporting for WGNO news at six. Back to you, Greg.”

  “Everything is working. They’ll be looking for casters, but the casters responsible are too noble to speak up and kill anyone.” Remy cracked his knuckles, relishing in the release of tension after so many days of stress. “Yes?” His head cocked to the side to look at his brother.

  Long, wet, black hair lay loose around his shoulders. He’d been swimming again it would seem.

  “Everyone’s getting a little uptight.” John Paul cleared his throat. “They’re wondering when we can return home. The moon is coming, and everyone would feel a little better shifting in the swamps we know.”

  “Patience, little brother. We will return after the storm. The unlikely duo are right on track. New Orleans is dry today, but the hurricane is coming.” Only his brother and sister remembered the plan. All others consented to a memory charm and just thought this to be a vacation for younger weregators before the school year kicked into gear.

  “So, you think it’ll happen before the shift?” His brother pressed, sitting down on the couch.

  Remy ground his teeth together, wincing at the slight head pain the action triggered. “The storm is set the day of the full moon. There’s just no telling what month. I wasn’t specific enough. It’s fine, I can check on New Orleans whenever I please.” He saw no reason to give exact dates, his brother was nothing more than a stain on the family’s good name. “We will return by nightfall. Everyone needs to remember they put their trust in me, and I will not let anyone down.”

  Remy understood the worry. Gators could be territorial if they felt threatened. While the community tended to stay together, the younger shifters often wandered off on their own. In an unfamiliar swamp, that could get them lost or killed.

  “Sorry,” John Paul conceded, though he didn’t make a move to stand.

  “Is there something else?” Remy drawled, irritation creeping up in his spine.

  “Well, we know that cop came up here.”

  “Elijah is Shifter Elect. He is no longer a cop.”

  “Right, okay,” John Paul started to tug on the ends of his hair like a hapless teenage girl. “Do you think he’ll come back?”

  “No,” Remy’s cold gaze leveled on his brother. “While I do not blame our people for growing distressed, the murder of a toddler is inconceivable. Eli
jah got what he came for. With the congregation here except for my Heather and Sable, there’s nothing for him to come to us with. He knows we’re upset. That is not uncommon for any of the seven races. Probably never will be.”

  His wife and daughter had been sent to her mother’s congregation in Florida. Remy wanted them safe and sound when hell broke loose.

  John Paul nodded, his hair shifting like waves as he did. “Right. So, we’re safe?”

  Remy’s head moved slowly. “We’re safe. A storm is already brewing in the tropics and heading for the gulf. No one will know anything. It’s time to wash away the sin and let the rain create the city anew.”

  Fifteen

  “You going to get that?” Jonathon nodded toward the phone vibrating on the plastic table.

  “Nope,” Deidre sighed. “I can’t keep bringing you places, and I can’t keep making excuses for not seeing them. Plus, one of them is going to want to talk about the tidal wave from yesterday.” She tried not to gag when she said the words tidal wave.

  The phone stopped banging against the table in the break room. Please just stay that way. Another sharp vibration.

  “She’s texting now.” Jonathon quirked an eyebrow. “You’re going to have to tell them something. The last thing we need is Lita and Ivy coming to chase you down for answers while we’re trying to chase down two alpha leaders.”

  “I don’t lie well.”

  “You actually do. But that’s okay. Tell them we’re back at work. Tell them you’re working a case.”

  “Lita will ask Sam.”

  Jonathan blew out a breath. “Answer for everything.”

  “Truthful answers,” Deidre smirked, despite not feeling like she was in a position to feel any sort of amusement.

  “I’ve got it,” Jonathon snatched the phone off the table.