Hex Appeal

by Linda Wisdom

  She shook her head. “I believe Angelica has her bloodstained fingers in this dream pie and I intend to prove it.”

  “The last time you tried to search out the source you ended up with a house that smelled like a toxic dump. What if the next time you end up mortal for all time?”

  “Then I’ll just have to find another way, won’t I?” She exited the office with a dramatic flourish.

  His blood may not flow through his veins, but he was positive his blood pressure was at an all-time high. And while peace and quiet returned to his office once Jazz was gone, Nick didn’t feel all that serene.

  “Why do I feel she’s going to get into trouble and I’ll have to find a way to extricate her,” he muttered. His eyes fell on a chunk of obsidian on his desk that doubled as a paperweight. It had been a gift from Flavius many years ago. “You should still be among the undead, my friend. If you were here you would be the new director, not that venomous bitch.”

  At least he hadn’t told Jazz that he agreed with her assumption. Once Reinhold told him that Angelica had risen to the position of director he felt that she had something to do with the unsettling dreams he and Jazz were having. If there was something Angelica did well, it was hold grudges. She held a very major grudge toward Jazz. And a much bigger one toward him for leaving her. And even with their battles over the centuries, he always returned to Jazz while he refused to return to Angelica.

  He picked up the phone and tapped out a number he never thought he’d call.

  “We need to talk,” he said when Reinhold’s growl sounded from the other end of the line.

  ***

  “This is a curse, right?” The bleached, liposuctioned, and ultra-thin blonde who Jazz sensed was already a plastic surgeon’s dream client was dressed more like she was in her early twenties than her mid-thirties. Her strapless hot pink dress barely covered the essentials with the tiny shrug sweater with pink and silver threads to add to her “let’s go clubbing” look.

  Jazz looked out over the deck complete with chaise longues, tables, and umbrellas. She doubted the deck was used for anything but parties. The woman’s spray tan was proof she didn’t use the sun for color.

  She stared at a deck overlooking Los Angeles that could have been considered for Architectural Digest—except for the frogs and slugs that covered the wood. Bullfrogs and their smaller brothers hopped around on the tables while fat slugs crawled up table legs and chairs and chaises. One extremely large bullfrog sat in the center of the deck and erupted a deep froggy growl. What sounded like thousands of coyotes howled from the foothills.

  “My neighbors are trying to get me to move,” Sofi “with a fi, not phie” moaned, wringing her hands as she stood behind Jazz as the witch surveyed the animal kingdom. “They say I’m a nuisance. I didn’t do this!”

  “But you know who did.” She turned around, studying a room that was so white it hurt her eyes. The only hint of color was a large abstract painting over the fireplace that was equally eye burning in glossy shades of red, black, and, you got it, white.

  “Denny Masters,” Sofi spat out the name. She reached over to a small table and picked up a black envelope. Her name was written in elegant calligraphy in silver ink.

  The minute Jazz took the envelope she felt a hint of magick covering the envelope. The black cardstock inside was even stronger, although she sensed it was a lot stronger before Sofi opened the card.

  You claim to be looking for a prince, bitch. Here’s your chance.

  “And the minute you read the words the frogs and slugs appeared,” she said.

  Sofi nodded. “They just popped up everywhere!”

  “Scorned lover?”

  She shook her head. “Not a chance. The guy wouldn’t even be my thousandth choice. He was a disgusting hairy prick. I told him I’d rather have a…”

  “Prince,” Jazz finished for her. “So he found a way to give you that chance.” She swallowed her sigh. She really hated dealing with curses from the rejected. They were always gross and messy. “Okay, let’s see what’s really out there.” She took a deep breath—she always hated anything slimy—and stepped outside. When the frogs retreated from her she knew that they recognized just what she was. “Show me what you are.”

  “What is it?” Sofi demanded.

  Jazz waved her hand, indicating she wanted silence. She walked around the deck, stopping every so often to examine a frog—euww! And checked out a few slugs.

  “This is a good one,” she said, once she returned to the house.

  “But you can get rid of it,” Sofi demanded. “I was told you’re the best.”

  “I am the best, but this isn’t your everyday curse. It wasn’t set up as a curse, but as a powerful spell.”

  “Meaning what?” Sofi tottered around the room on her four-inch Christian Louboutin peep-toe pumps.

  “Meaning I banish curses. Only the one who cast a spell can remove it.”

  “But I don’t know who did this!”

  Jazz winced at the shriek that assaulted her eardrums. “Actually, this spell is set up for you to remove.”

  “Me? I don’t know anything about magick. That’s why I hired you.”

  Jazz shook her head. “The spell needs you to do it.”

  “But how do I find out what to do?”

  “It’s easy.” She just knew this wasn’t going to go well. At least she’d received her fee up front. Maybe there wasn’t a curse to eliminate, but she still had to work at figuring out what happened. She picked up her bag.

  “So what do I do? I’m not moving! This is a prime piece of real estate!”

  “You don’t have to move, Sofi,” Jazz said, heading for the front door. “Just remember your fairy tales.”

  “Fairy tales?” Sofi shook her head. “Who remembers fairy tales?”

  “You have the Internet, right? Look up The Frog Prince,” she advised. “It will tell you how to get rid of the frogs and slugs and I bet once they’re gone the coyote howls will disappear at the same time.”

  She noticed that Sofi was busily typing away on her laptop as Jazz exited the house. She’d barely seated herself in the T-Bird when she heard an ear-splitting shriek from the house.

  “What was that?” Irma’s cigarette disappeared in a puff of smoke…literally.

  “I guess Sofi with an ‘i’ found out what she needs to do to remove the spell. There was no curse in there. And the only way she can remove the spell is to kiss every frog hopping around on her deck. She told a guy she wanted a prince and that’s what he sent her. An army of frogs and a whole mess of slugs.”

  “It sounds like she needed someone from pest control instead of you.”

  “Not with this.” She put the car into gear and backed out of the driveway. She looked through the windshield and saw Sofi pacing back and forth in front of the bay window, her hands moving and lips moving just as frantically as she spoke on her phone. Jazz guessed she’d called the spurned suitor in hopes of finding another way to end the spell. She was pretty sure anyone who laid out serious money for a spell that complicated wasn’t going to take it back just because Sofi asked him to.

  “How many frogs were out there?” Irma smoothed her hands over her gray tweed wool pants that she’d paired with a soft blue sweater. Jazz was grateful the woman was willing to dress her age. Even Irma’s blush was changed to a rosier shade that matched her lipstick. The ghost was making good use of the fashion magazines Jazz picked up for her. Even the dog had stopped terrorizing Mrs. Sanderson’s Pepper, or at least was doing it when she wasn’t around.

  “More than I cared to count. I’ve got to say I was impressed with the intricacy of the spell.” The sports car picked up speed as Jazz roared down the winding road. “Whoever did it knew just how to get to this woman.”

  “Except you didn’t banish anything so you weren’t paid.”

  “Oh, I was paid and she’s heard enough gossip to know not to stop payment on the check. Besides, I figured out how she could end the spel
l. That took work.”

  “If you truly wanted to work you’d find a way that I could have food and drink. I do miss my pink squirrels and brandy Alexanders.” Irma looked about as forlorn as a ghost who’d been dead for the last fifty years could look.

  “You can change your looks and hair. Isn’t that enough? You’re not Pinocchio, Irma. I can’t make you into a real woman. No matter what, you’re still dead. There are some things you can’t do.” There were times she hated being so blunt, but she felt it had to be done. And this was one of those times. Not to mention she didn’t want cracker crumbs everywhere. Plus, then she’d probably want the dog to have the ability to scarf down his share of real Milkbones.

  “No kidding. Although, you’d think there would be some kind of dating service for us.”

  A lit Lucky Strike appeared between Irma’s fingers then disappeared when Jazz uttered a warning growl.

  “There’s a dating service for vampires, so why not for us? I’m sure I’m not the only ghost wandering around,” Irma went on.

  A dating world for the living challenged. Oh no. Next thing Jazz knew Irma would be talking about sex and Jazz would have to claw her eyes out to keep the images from bombarding her brain.

  “Be happy with what you’ve got, which is a hell of a lot more than you had six months ago. You even have a dog now. If you want to do something then do something for him. Give him a name!”

  “He hasn’t told me what his name is yet,” Irma said primly. “It’s not like he came with a collar and name tag.”

  “In a sense he has a new life now. Maybe he wants a new name to go with it. Find out what he wants to be called.”

  “Good idea.” Irma appeared lost in thought as Jazz exited the mountain road.

  Jazz slowed the car as she spied an official looking vehicle parked at the Full Moon Café and then confirmation of what shouldn’t be inside the restaurant, but somehow was. She made a quick and very illegal U-turn, and headed back to the diner’s parking lot. She parked next to the car that caught her attention.

  “Why does it smell like wet dog around here?” Irma wrinkled her nose.

  “That’s nothing new to us thanks to your new pet.” Jazz climbed out of the car.

  “We should have brought the dog.” The ghost looked around with a worried frown.

  “Trust me, even dead, he wouldn’t like it here.” She walked to the entrance.

  When Jazz stepped inside she heard the pounding sounds of Steppenwolf’s Born to be Wild coming from the jukebox and a stocky man wearing a rumpled suit seated at the counter nursing a cup of coffee. Coby stood at the other end, staring at his customer with his usual flat black stare. The other man looked up at Jazz.

  “Hey, it’s Jazz the witch,” Detective Larkin grinned. “What’re you doing here?”

  Jazz’s gaze flipped to Coby, who wasn’t saying a word, then back to the sheriff’s detective. “More to the point, what are you doing here?”

  “Having a cup of coffee.” He gestured to the cup in front of him along with a plate with a half-eaten apple pie slice on it. “Can we have another cup for the lady?”

  “She’s no lady,” Coby growled, literally, as he reached for a mug and filled it.

  Jazz had encountered the detective when Dweezil was framed by Mindy and the authorities almost seized his business. While the man knew magick and supernatural creatures were around, he preferred to ignore the fact. Jazz showed him it was better not to disregard anything unusual.

  She took a seat at the counter, murmuring her thanks for the coffee.

  “Didn’t you feel anything when you came in here?” she asked in a low voice.

  The detective shrugged. “Like what? It’s getting late and I wanted a caffeine fix. The place was open and it looks clean. Okay, I felt a little odd when I got out of my car, but like I said, I needed some caffeine. It’s been a bitch of a day. How about you? Doing your witchy thing? Oh, want some pie to go with that coffee? It’s pretty good.”

  Jazz looked at Coby instead. “Your wards are strong. I could feel them, so that’s not it. And he’s never been here before?” Coby settled for a quick jerk of the head.

  Detective Larkin looked from one to the other. “What’s going on here?” He shifted his arm so that his jacket lapel rolled back revealing his weapon.

  “Forget that.” Jazz flicked her fingers so that the jacket closed up again. “It wouldn’t work here anyway.”

  “He didn’t hesitate outside and just walked in,” Coby finally said. “This isn’t good for business. They’ll smell him from a mile away.”

  “You have something against cops?” Larkin was now the steely-eyed lawman.

  “Okay guys, no bumping up the testosterone count.” Jazz put her hands up in a “stop it” motion. “This is more your thing than mine,” she told Coby. “Why can’t you explain it to him?”

  “It looks like you know him. You do it.” He placed a slice of pie in front of her and walked away.

  “What the fuck is his problem?” Detective Larkin glared at Coby’s retreating back.

  Jazz forked up a bite of pie and almost groaned in bliss. Someone knew how to make great apple pie. She took another quick bite and set down her fork.

  “Remember our talk about witches and vampires?”

  “Yeah, that they’re more real than I’d like to think. You proved that at Clive Reeves’ house when you blew it up.”

  “I didn’t destroy the mansion. Magick did that.” She took a drink of her coffee and found it as dark and strong as she had the last time. “There’s a lot more out there than witches and vampires and trolls and ogres and pixies.”

  “Okay, okay.” He held up his hand. “Just spit it out.”

  “Your word skills are atrocious. Here’s the deal. The Full Moon Café is aptly named because the main patrons here have a special ritual during the full moon.” She waited for realization to kick in. Instead, she got a blank look. “Full moon. Ultra hairy. Big teeth. Don’t you ever watch horror movies?”

  “I’m more into sci-fi. I’ve seen The Day the Earth Stood Still hundreds of times.”

  Jazz exhaled a deep breath. “Werewolf.” A growl erupted from the kitchen. “If you don’t like the way I explained it, you should have done it yourself! Besides, it’s not my fault he got past the wards.”

  “Werewolves, yeah,” Detective Larkin snorted. “That’s what my wife turns into every twenty-eight days.” He laughed at his own joke. “Witches, okay. Vampires, I’m still working on, but Werewolves are a bit much. No way.”

  “Big way.” She raised her voice even though she knew it wasn’t necessary. “Coby, you have to come out here and convince the man.”

  “I’m not some pet you can trot out to show off to the neighbors,” Coby muttered, walking out of the kitchen.

  “I came in here out of the goodness of my heart,” she ignored the snorts from both men. Terrific, now they bond! “so I could make sure that everything was okay and I even try to explain to the detective why he shouldn’t be here and all I get is crap.”

  Detective Larkin looked at Coby as the man placed his hands on the counter. “Fuck!” He almost fell off the stool as Coby’s facial bones shifted and lengthened to a snout, his eyes changing to an eerie yellow while his canines lengthened, and fur sprouted along the back of his hands. Larkin stared wide-eyed at the man whose face was now more wolf than human. He jerked around to Jazz. “What’s next?”

  “This café is considered neutral territory. Consider it Switzerland for all creatures if they need it, but it’s mostly a hangout for the Weres,” she explained. “The café is also heavily warded against humans. If any human stops here, they get an unsettling sensation and move on. Except for you.” She glanced at Coby who’d returned to his human façade. “There has to be some Wereblood in him, no matter how diluted.”

  “I don’t sense any,” Coby muttered, still uneasy at the uninvited presence.

  “Were you ever bitten by an animal?” she asked the detect
ive. “Maybe when you were a child.”

  “Trust me, I’d know if I ever changed into a hairy beast under a full moon,” he grumbled.

  “Work with me here,” Jazz urged.

  “Yeah,” he said reluctantly. “My grandma’s dog bit me when I was six. I hated that little monster after that. No offense,” he said to Coby.

  “What kind of dog?”

  “Pekinese. Grandma loved that ball of fur. He showed up on her doorstep one night and she took him in.”

  Jazz and Coby exchanged glances. “Could be,” Coby said. “A blood test would prove it. I’ve heard of Weres in that species, but we don’t see too many. There were rogues among the small breed some years ago.”

  Larkin started to back away a few steps until Jazz froze him with a flick of her fingers.

  “No running out now,” she said. “It would be a good idea for you to find out.”

  “You’re saying my kids could become…dogs?” He looked so horrified that Jazz wanted to laugh.

  “It sounds like you only got a trace of his saliva in your blood, and it could have remained dormant all these years. Maybe your being around supernatural creatures more brought it out. Just let Coby take a small sample of your blood and we can find out. And I’ll unfreeze you if you promise not to run away.”

  He looked horrified at the idea. “But what if I’m what you said I am? A damn Pekinese?”

  “Honestly, Larkin, all that’s happened is that you entered a Were establishment when you shouldn’t have been able to. That means you have a form of magick in your blood and it sounds like a tiny drop of Wereblood. With all the magick flying around L.A. it’s no wonder your dormant Wereblood was activated.”

  “My life was perfectly sane until I met you.” He glared at Jazz.

  She pooh-poohed his statement. “Come on, admit it, your life was downright boring until I showed up.”

  “Just get the blood sample, Jazz,” Coby ordered, holding out a small vial and sealed packet with a syringe.

  “I’m not all that fond of blood. Whether it’s mine or anyone else’s.” She took the vial and packet between her fingertips

  “Surprising considering who you hang around with.”