Death's Excellent Vacation

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Death's Excellent Vacation Page 19

by Charlaine Harris


  “If you violate my privacy, Grand, I swear, I’m out.” Justin stared at his grandmother, his eyes holding a promise to never forgive the offense.

  “This girl here got a good heart and it involves her, you know?”

  “How?” Justin shouted, spinning on his grandmother and talking with his hands. “Don’t do this, Grand!”

  “Wasn’t till she walked in here and I got up close that I could see . . . but her daddy was the one messing with that swamp witch.”

  “What?” Jessica shrieked and then tried to adjust her tone. “Ma’am . . . ?”

  “Spells and counterspells—they was gun-slinging juju like it was the wild, wild West,” Grand said, waving an arthritic hand for emphasis. “First bad dose came when the wife hit my pregnant daughter . . . tried to make her have a monster—but as you can see, Justin is fine.” Grand raised an eyebrow and stared at him hard. “Satisfied?”

  “Thank you,” he muttered.

  “You just gifted, is all,” Grand said with a dismissive wave toward Justin before turning her focus back to Jessica. “But then, once my daughter realized what that hussy had tried to do, she did a reverse double-deadbolt spell on that cheating wife . . . sent that hatred right back where it came from. And you do know that a mother trying to protect her baby is stronger than a she-devil trying to do dirt, right?”

  Grand waited for Jessica to nod and then squinted and pointed at her, vindicated. “Uh-huh, you know I’m tellin’ it right. Word is, that swamp witch, who by the way was quite a Jezebel, had a lot of bad IOUs out there, jus’ nobody would challenge her. But when my daughter did, the Lord worked in mysterious ways . . . All that bad she had out in the world came fer her all at one time. Turned her into what she was trying to make Justin. Your momma had a hand in it, too,” Grand said, nodding. “Uhhuh. That woman had worked roots on your daddy to get him to leave y’all . . . He was a lawman, had morals and principles, but once that she-devil got her hooks in him, it was all she wrote. So whatever your momma sent back her way added a little topspin on my Lula’s spell, and probably everybody else’s, too. It’s bad business to start root-slinging down here in New Orleans—never know how the juju is gonna ricochet.”

  Jessica turned slowly and slumped against the counter, hugging herself.

  “Your daddy loved your momma dearly, baby . . . loved you and your brother. But that bayou witch . . .” Grand shook her head. “She was built the way that’d make even a churchgoing man turn a blind eye to the Lord. Big bosom,” Grand added, using her hands to demonstrate. “Long legs, big ole Creole backside, tiny waist, pretty face, long black hair . . . and them green eyes—pure evil in ’em, though.”

  “They said my daddy run off when we was young and they found him dead, tore up by gators. Sheriff Moore found him on the Louisiana side of Sabine Lake.” Jessica looked into Grand’s ancient eyes and blinked back moisture.

  “Wasn’t no gators, baby,” Grand said gently. “Just like it ain’t been no gators eating people like they say on the news, and it sure wasn’t no hurricane that kilt my girl, no more than it was feral dogs that ravaged her body.” Grand lifted her chin. “For all them years, she couldn’t get to my daughter, because Lula had put down protections and barriers . . . but the storm, oh, Lawd, that storm washed it all away.”

  “My momma got sick around then, but she passed two years ago,” Jessica murmured, her gaze going from Grand to Justin. “The doctors could never tell why she was getting weaker and weaker . . . never found out exactly what it was. They just said she was sick.”

  “Uh-huh . . . that’s an old-time spell. Jus’ make a person waste away for no good reason. Mean. Your momma probably put something down here to keep that Jezebel and her evil ways kept here and away from her young’uns . . . just like my Lula did. Even evil got an uphill battle when going against a mother’s love.” Grand let out an angry sigh. “She prob’ly just sent evil your momma’s direction, seeing as how your momma died from sickness, not from gettin’ ate.”

  Jessica’s hand flew to her mouth. “This witch cast spells so bad that she made werewolves?” Her eyes darted between Justin and Grand, and yet she couldn’t read Justin’s frown.

  “No, baby,” Grand said gently. “She didn’t cast no spell, she became her own spell.”

  Jessica’s body slumped against the counter again as though someone had punched her. “But you said there was a whole den of them now . . .”

  “Uhmmm-hmmm . . . all them men she does her dirt with. All it takes is a scratch, a nip, sharing some spit. By now, who knows how many men she done swapped spit with? If I was younger, I’d go out there and spell-battle her myself!”

  Four

  ALTHOUGH Grand sometimes got on his last nerve, he had to admit that she was very, very wise. Talking frankly had loosened Jessica up enough that she agreed to come home with them for a real down-home meal.

  Crawfish over grits with gravy was Grand’s specialty, but she didn’t pull out all the stops for just any ole body. He could tell that Grand had taken a shine to Jessica . . . So had he. If she passed Grand’s tough inspection, then what else was there—the problem was, nobody had ever come this close to finding out his secret.

  But he couldn’t worry about all of that now while listening to the wonderful sound of Jessica’s voice. Plus she smelled so good, a light citrus mixed with baby oil coming off her legs mixed with a little perspiration. Add in Grand’s kitchen magic and he was done.

  “So, if this witch is a werewolf, how in the heck do we get to her?” Jessica asked, leaning closer to him and dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “She did your momma, mine, my daddy . . . and now she’s got a bunch of lovers-turned-wolves out eating people? She’s gotta be stopped.”

  The challenge was in Jessica’s eyes, the unasked question lingering there—Why haven’t you tried to shut this bitch down a long time ago yourself, especially when you have all the tools and a grandma that can see? Guilt stabbed him; what could he say? There was no way to explain that without exposing what he was.

  “The only way to get to her is during the day when the moon isn’t in full phase,” Justin said quietly, now allowing his knee to brush hers. He loved the way she leaned in, the way her eyes lit with passion. Loved the urgency in her voice and the way she hung on his every word.

  “Then . . . we can do that.” Jessica took a quick sip from her lemonade and then clasped her hands together tightly in her lap.

  “If you shoot her while in human form, you’ll go to jail for murder one, Jess.”

  Jessica sat back and blew out a long breath. “Maaaan . . .”

  “Lock her in her house with brick dust,” Grand hollered from the kitchen. “Silver shavings go down next, and then bar all her windows and doors with holy water, pour it over her threshold. Follow up with salt.”

  “Grand, I thought you was cookin’,” Justin called out.

  “I am,” Grand fussed back. “I can walk and chew gum!”

  Jessica smiled and then leaned forward and touched his arm. “Ever since I was little, I always felt so strange . . . Do you know what I mean?”

  All he could do was nod; her touch had dried the saliva in his mouth.

  “I knew I wasn’t like other kids, knew my momma wasn’t like other mommas. Until today, I haven’t run across anybody that made me feel like I was home, like I was with family. Like it was okay to be different. Even extended family shunned us.”

  He knew exactly how she felt and exactly what she meant. Without even thinking about it, he gathered her hands within his, as though that were the most natural thing to do in the whole world.

  “I think your difference is beautiful, Jess,” he said quietly, hoping his grandmother would mind her beeswax for a while. “I’ll help you trap that swamp witch and her pack in her house, if you want . . . They can’t keep killing innocent people.”

  A warm, soft palm slid out of his to touch his cheek. He almost closed his eyes at the sensation that it sent through his body.r />
  “Why can’t I see you?” she murmured, studying his face with her liquid brown gaze.

  “Ya needs ta answer that girl!” Grand called out from the kitchen, making them both laugh. “And ya best go home to be taking care of your dog.”

  Jessica hid a giggle behind her hand. “You have a dog?”

  “Kinda,” Justin hedged. “But this is why I don’t live here,” he said, shaking his head. “No privacy.” He took her hands within his again and let out a heavy sigh. “You know how old folks can be.”

  Jessica sat back, extracting her hands from his with a smile, glancing around. “I hear you . . . I thought you lived here?”

  “With Grand . . . Oh, noooo. Got my own apartment close to Xavier.”

  They both laughed, and he was glad that his grandmother’s intrusion had broken Jessica’s spell. Two seconds more and he would have told her all that she wanted to know.

  “Then since you all find me so funny,” Grand said in a peevish tone, “y’all go wash up and come eat and stop sitting on the sofa making goo-goo eyes at each other.”

  FOR the first time in a long time, Jess felt her sexuality awaken with a roar. What had always been a dull ache or a dream- state want was now a beast.

  Justin stood in the hotel lobby, stalling, the same way she was. They’d long since sopped up grits and gravy with Grand’s buttermilk biscuits, done dishes, and talked strategy and laughed together. She felt like she’d known Justin Cambridge all her born days, and the short walk in the humid evening air from Grand’s apartment over the shop to the hotel made her feel like she was floating on air.

  Drawing on everything her momma had taught her, she finally dredged up the strength to say good night. This one was a keeper and was old school, like her. It wouldn’t do to just ask him up to her room and be brazenly bold. But dang, he was so fine, so kind . . . just sexy as hell.

  “I’d better go,” she said with a slight smile.

  “Yeah . . . you’d better,” he murmured, but he didn’t move.

  “I have to come by the shop tomorrow to get all that stuff Grand was saying I’d need.”

  “We’d need,” Justin corrected.

  “I hadn’t realized I said that,” Jessica said, covering her mouth. “I—”

  “It was fine,” Justin said, placing both hands on her upper arms.

  Warmth soaked into Jessica’s skin and practically melted her bones. Her breath hitched when she tried to speak.

  “I’d better go,” he said with a widening smile. “I want you to think I’m a gentleman.”

  She smiled and arched an eyebrow. “Want me to think that you’re a gentleman?”

  He gave her a dashingly sexy grin. “Uh-huh.”

  She couldn’t help laughing at the mischief she saw in his eyes. “So, what changed your normal ungentlemanly behavior?”

  “You,” he said, his smile fading. “Gotta be a gentleman around a true lady.” He leaned in, kissed her forehead, and stepped back. “So, I’ma go, okay?” He made the hand gesture that said he’d call her on her cell and left her with a wink.

  “Yeah,” she murmured, and gave him a little wave as he turned slowly, looked back once, and loped away.

  SHE woke up with the sun, tangled in the sheets. All she could think about was Justin’s voice, his sexy smile, his body . . . his beautiful locks . . . And then oddly she could suddenly envision his huge black dog. For some strange reason, the big, lovable animal made her smile and made her want to hug it like a big teddy bear.

  A chime on her cell phone practically made her fall out of her bed. She quickly grabbed it off the nightstand and opened it, then smiled. The message was brief, but she read it over and over again before answering.

  Know it’s early—couldn’t sleep. Wanna get breakfast?

  Jessica laughed and sent back a smiley face with one word, OK.

  SHE greeted Justin with a big smile as he walked across the hotel lobby.

  “Good morning.”

  “Good morning yourself,” she said with a chuckle, then yawned.

  “Couldn’t sleep, either?” He waggled his eyebrows and she looked away.

  “I slept all right.” Her wide grin told on her.

  “Yeah, okay . . . I didn’t.”

  “Then you need some coffee,” she said, laughing, skirting the subject he was fixated on.

  “That ain’t all, but I’m a patient man.”

  She whirled on him and opened her mouth. “You did not go there.”

  “My bad, my bad,” he said, laughing, leaning away from her. “I thought women appreciated honesty, especially those who could see.”

  “We do, but dang.”

  Jessica began walking again, peeping at him over her shoulder as he bounded toward her and then loped a few paces behind her, smiling. There was just something about him that she couldn’t define—something very primal and different yet honest and dear.

  After they’d settled at a table and ordered, Justin’s expression sobered.

  “I brought you something, but not to be used here. This is a going-away present for when you head back to Port Arthur, all right?”

  She didn’t know what to say as he dug into his jeans pocket and produced a handful of silver bullets. “Justin . . .”

  “You take these home, you hear,” he said in an urgent rush. “I can lay the brick dust and all of that . . . If I would have done what I was supposed to years ago, maybe your momma would still be here. But I don’t want you in harm’s way.”

  “But if this woman killed my momma and my daddy—”

  Justin held up his hand. “I’ve got Grand on my side,” he said with a mischievous smile.

  There was no arguing that Grand was a formidable force, no less than she could argue about the way Justin made her feel.

  “Believe me, I’m not trying to send you home . . . far from it,” Justin said quietly, leaning even closer. “But I want you safe. Cool?”

  She nodded but didn’t answer; that’s as much as she could commit to right now. The full moon was a few days away, and she wanted closure. But her money was only going to hold out long enough to keep her around for the balance of the weekend. Tuesday night was when she’d predicted to Sheriff Moore that all hell would break loose . . . and now the last person she wanted caught up in that madness was Justin.

  “You be careful, too,” she finally said over a sip of coffee.

  “I’m cool,” he said, then chugged his orange juice.

  “I want you to be more than cool. I want you to be safe, Justin.”

  Her voice had come out soft like a tender brush against his cheek. He stared at her for a moment and then reached across the table to take up her hand. Sure, he’d had a lot of girls, mostly booty calls—nothing serious. But he was so tired of hiding, tired of the double life he was leading. Tired of not being able to share his heart and soul.

  “Tell me what she did to you,” Jessica said quietly. “That witch. Did she make a spell against you that closed you off from the spirit realm?”

  Justin looked down and studied Jessica’s hands. How did one even begin to describe what she’d done to him, in terms that wouldn’t make her run?

  “You’ve lost so much . . .” Jessica whispered, shaking her head. “Even your dog; how could she attack an innocent animal?”

  Justin pulled away and sat back, then raked his fingers through his locks.

  “What’s wrong?” Confused, Jessica sat forward.

  “Nothing . . . It’s just a real raw subject, is all.” He looked out the window, hoping she’d believe him.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried . . . It’s just that I get the sense that this woman really damaged you—taking everything from you. It had to be a joy-stealing spell.”

  His shoulders slumped two inches from relief. “Yeah . . . it was something like that.”

  SAYING good-bye got harder and harder to do. All day Saturday he’d taken her around town and then got her to relent and hang out at the movies. Su
nday morning he skipped church, instead going to breakfast with her and trying to get her to come back to Grand’s for dinner, but wisely she said no. He knew the inevitable was near—sooner or later Jessica had to go back to Port Arthur. But he’d made her a bag of protection and had loaded her down with everything she could want or need to keep her safe at home. Still, standing by her old rusted- out Jeep Wrangler, the last thing he wanted to do was tell her good-bye.

  “I’ma call you, all right?” he said, giving her a hug and opening the door.

  “You’d better.” She beamed up at him and melted his soul.

  “I will.” He touched the edge of her jaw with the pad of his thumb. “Did you have a good time in New Orleans?”

  She nodded, her smile fading a bit as her eyes took on that open gaze that was always his undoing. “This is the best vacation I’ve ever had.”

  “Good, then I did my job,” he said, trying to make jokes to cover his nervousness.

  “Oh, so now I’m work, huh?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, you are. Silver bullets, half a storeroom of supplies, and a crazy mission . . . Yeah, girl, you’re work.”

  She touched his chest and became serious. “You be careful.”

  He couldn’t stand it. Maybe it was the heat, the way she looked at him, or the sound of her voice, but one moment he was thinking of what to say and the next he’d lowered his face to hers to brush her lips. She deepened the kiss, much to his surprise and completely to his pleasure. The next thing he knew, he’d backed her up against the car.

  “You sure you don’t want me to drive behind you to Port Arthur?” he said, breaking the kiss on a quiet gasp. “Like . . . I could come over and help you put down all the protective barriers, make sure the place was tight—then I could come back.”

 

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