Hoodoo Blue

by Katalina Leon

  “I understand that’s a good thing, but it sure doesn’t sound good.”

  She laughed. “No, this is great! I was scared I might accidently turn you into barbecue.”

  “You touched me when you tied me to the bed.”

  “I did, didn’t I? I was so distracted I didn’t really notice.”

  “You have soft hands. I love how they felt on my wrists. I wish—”

  “Stop! Let’s not tempt fate.” She stood and reached for her purse. “I’m calling Estele to ask her what sort of hoodoo she cast on us.”

  Gus shrugged. “Make the call. I’m not going anywhere.”

  He watched Fredi as she hunted for her phone, thinking she was the hottest witch he’d ever seen in his life. There was something familiar about her, too, that was hard to put his finger on until he remembered his dream woman from long ago—the Valkyrie, as he had christened her. His face grew hot just thinking about it.

  As he gazed at Fredi’s graceful hands sliding over the phone, his mind did a weird little journey back in time and his thoughts returned to the age of fifteen. That period had been a horrible, over-amped stage of life when he’d made a thousand clumsy attempts to flirt with girls his own age. It had been awkward and often disastrous. He towered over everyone, and his voice squeaked when he got nervous, but worse, he’d already been shaving for a year while all the other non-Lycan boys in school had smooth, handsome faces the girls loved. All the hair and extra hormones made him feel like a beast, and his blood ran hot, too. Girls sensed he was more than they could safely handle and shied away. It was a lonely, anxiety-ridden year, and then she appeared.

  It started as an overheated wet dream. One night, in the twilight realm between consciousness and sleep, a majestic blonde goddess, all softness and curves, appeared in his dreams and fulfilled every nasty, hot fantasy in his mental catalog. As a mere fantasy, she required no name, but in his heart, he called her the Valkyrie, and she became his favorite dark secret. She was cool and aloof, and he knew he could never command her. He prayed nightly he’d dream of her, but her nocturnal visits were undependable. Tease that she was, she appeared just often enough to keep him sane. Blonde and curvy became his heart’s desire, and he longed to find a woman who matched that description in the real world.

  It didn’t happen. There were a lot of beautiful blondes out there, but none that he clicked with. He wanted that touch of magic as well as a passionate partner. Most of the women he’d dated were nice, but they were not in the market for a Lycan. To complicate matters, even though he was born and raised in the Lycan community, he didn’t feel attracted to Lycan women beyond friendship. The coastal pack was sparse, and it was common in smaller packs for young men and women to leave and look outside the group for partners. Even at the tender age of fifteen, he’d been convinced he was one of those pack members who’d have to roam farther in search of a soul mate.

  And here she was. He couldn’t look at Fredi and not wish he could open his heart to her and say, Be with me. I want you. You are what I’ve been looking for all my life.

  Fredi plucked her phone from the side pocket of her purse, punched in Estele’s number, and waited. “Estele, you’d better pick up.”

  “You’ve reached Estele Esposito, and if I’m not answering, it’s because I’m busy having fun.”

  “Damn it.”

  “Fredi?” Estele’s quaking voice interrupted the chipper message.

  “Oh, you are picking up and you sound nervous, too. Good. Estele, do you have something you want to tell me?”

  “You went to the Hoodoo Voodoo cocktail lounge?”

  “I sure did.”

  “Did you meet Gus and stay for a drink?”

  “Yep. In fact, we drank the whole damn pitcher of Hoodoo Blue.”

  “Do you hate me?”

  “A little.”

  “Oh, Fredi, I just wanted you to meet Gus. He’s terrific, isn’t he? I only met him briefly, but when I did, I got this massive psychic download that he would be absolutely perfect for you. It was like I could see the future and everything. You were both so happy together. It’s fate. I had to act. What did you think of him?”

  “I’m still with him.”

  “Oooo, it sounds like things are moving along quite nicely.”

  “His shirt has been torn to shreds, and he’s tied to my headboard, where he’ll most likely be spending the night.”

  “Wow!” Estele squealed. “That was fast. I’m impressed. Now try to relax and have some fun.” She paused. “You are having fun, aren’t you? Why are you calling me?”

  “Estele, what in the name of Brunhilda’s warty-nosed witch’s brew did you put in the Hoodoo Blue cocktail syrup?”

  “Uh-oh. Is the spell bad?”

  “It’s batshit wacky and has some terrible side effects!”

  Estele gasped. “Like what?”

  “First, it made us involuntarily blurt whatever we thought. I said…” She glanced at Gus. “We said some embarrassing things to each other. Not fun.”

  “That was the heart-opening spell working!” Estele cheered. “I wanted you to sit together and open up to each other.”

  “It worked a little too well.”

  A hint of pride lit Estele’s voice. “Is that all? What else happened?”

  “No, it’s not all. Next, when we tried to say goodnight, we discovered that if we traveled more than ten yards apart, we got stung with hellacious bursts of pain that make a Brazilian bikini wax feel like a gentle foot rub.”

  “Whoopsies. I cast a ring of fascination around you and Gus. Wow, I can’t believe it worked this time. I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t immediately turn around and run from each other.”

  “Well, we can’t go anywhere without the other, and guess what else? The perimeter keeps shrinking. It went from ten yards, to six feet, to three, and I have no idea how close we’ll end up.”

  “Yikes.”

  “Add to that, Gus is wolf-shifting tonight. He needs to roam around, and I have…” Her voice dropped to a hushed whisper. “That other problem. Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused? Estele, your potions aren’t ready for primetime. Why would you do something like this?”

  “Fredi, I’m so sorry.” She choked back a sob. “I swear it was done in friendship. Gus was so great I wanted you to see him for yourself. I don’t want you to be lonely.”

  Estele sounded so pathetic that Fredi softened her tone. “Tell me exactly what you did so I can reverse your spell.”

  “I don’t remember exactly…” Estele muttered a few incoherent words of Latin. “It’s not coming to me. I really should write this stuff down, shouldn’t I?”

  “Estele, please try. This is serious.”

  “I don’t remember! Maybe it will come back to me later. Cross my heart on Salem’s flaming witch pyre, I’ll stay awake all night if I have to, reworking the spell. I promise I’ll make things right.”

  “While you’re fooling around with a few new ‘negation incantations,’ remember to be careful not to do us any more harm than you already have, okay? Throw a little discernment into your magic, please.”

  “Fredi,” Estele whispered. “It will be all right. You and Gus are meant to be. I’m crap with spellcraft, but my Wiccan intuition is never off. If I see it—it’s true.”

  “I hope you’re right. Call me if you remember anything or have a breakthrough.”

  “I’m on it.” Estele sounded repentant. “I’ll neutralize my spell one way or another. I won’t let you down.”

  “Bye.” Fredi clicked off the phone.

  Gus’s lips compressed to a thin worried line. “I’m scared to ask. What did Estele say? Can the spell be reversed?”

  “She doesn’t remember how she cast the spell.”

  “We’re fucked!”

  “Not necessarily. Estele’s forgetfulness might work to our advantage.”

  “How?”

  “These chaotic little spells are tricky and can easily turn sour
, but they’re also fragile. I might fuss with Estele’s hoodoo a little and see if I can mutate parts of it on my own.”

  “Before morning?”

  “No guarantees, but I’ll try.” She reached under the bed and retrieved her magic wand. “First, I need to cast a circle of protection. That way, we’ll have a safety net around us before Estele starts randomly lobbing half-baked spells in our direction.”

  “You don’t have much faith in Estele, do you?”

  She traced the tip of the wand around the bed. “Don’t get me wrong. I love Estele like a sister, but she’s still a novice.”

  “I thought you wanted to crack the spell? I’m not a witch, so correct me if I’m wrong, but wouldn’t a circle of protection prevent anything positive Estele might manifest from getting through?”

  “Oh, please. Witchcraft’s not that simple. I’m using an etheric filter. Every witch has her own special flavor of witchcraft. My filter will allow in anything focused and positive Estele might accomplish, but exclude the clutter. If Estele remembers how she cast the hoodoo and breaks it, we’ll be free, but I wouldn’t count on it. Best-case scenario is our situation doesn’t get any worse, and, at dawn, when the hoodoo is almost kaput, I can finish it off with pure sunlight.”

  “And the worst case?”

  “Flames, fangs, disaster on the beach, so let’s not go there.” She skipped the wand through the air like an orchestra’s conductor.

  A slight shiver passed over Gus. “Wow, that felt good. What are you doing?”

  “I’m casting a pain-reversal spell so we won’t have to take so much punishment if we move too far apart.”

  “I feel fine right now. I think I might even be able to keep the shifting under control.”

  “Yes, but we’re only a couple feet apart. The perimeter might shrink farther. We still have the entire night ahead of us. Who knows what’s coming next?”

  “Good point, but, while you’re at it, why don’t you see if you can break Estele’s spell altogether?”

  “I can’t. It doesn’t work that way. A hoodoo is a time-released spell that rolls along at its own pace until it runs out of steam. By the time I crack one portion of the spell, it will have morphed into something else. I can bend or modify it, but I can’t completely reverse it. The only person who can do that is the witch who cast the hoodoo in the first place.”

  “And we’re waiting for scatterbrained Estele to remember her eleven secret herbs and spices?”

  “Yes.” She stroked the wand lightly across the length of Gus’s torso, stopping short of the bulge in his jeans.

  He tensed, and his eyes flew wide. "What are you doing?”

  “Making you flame retardant, in case I think wayward thoughts.”

  “That’s considerate, but will it work?”

  “Maybe. Wiccan plasma is pretty tough stuff to control, but it’s worth a try.”

  “Why don’t you do this all the time?”

  “I can’t maintain a circle of protection on an ongoing basis. It demands a lot of energy. It’s too draining. You saw how powerful those plasma bursts could be. In this mode, the energy has to go in another direction.”

  “Where is it going?”

  “Right now, I’m blocking it, so it’s just bouncing around us, but the power is building beyond the circle of protection like water behind a dam. I’m already exhausted from pushing it away. I do hope that, just this once, Estele figures out what she’s doing and can help us. This was so unfair to you. I’m sorry you got involved with a couple of kooky witches and threatened with being roasted alive.”

  “I’m not panicking.” Compassion lit his eyes. “I don’t really want to be rescued right now. I’m okay where I am.”

  “I thought you needed to wolf-shift and roam around?”

  “That might have passed.”

  “Really?”

  “It’s kind of strange, but I feel calm now. I don’t have to pace around or go anywhere.”

  “That’s a relief, because we’re captive in my bed.”

  He laughed. “Is that so bad?”

  “Only if your bedmate is a human flamethrower.”

  “What did you put in that last spell? I feel good—really good.” He tipped his head to the side. “Come here, Fredi. Lie beside me. Let’s talk a little.”

  He looked so languid stretched across the mattress, as if he weren’t being held hostage by a witch and didn’t have a care in the world. A dreamy expression crossed his face that left his lids heavy.

  She clutched the coverlet. In the name of panicking Pandora, it was tempting. “Climbing into bed beside you is probably not a good idea.”

  “Why not? Didn’t you make me flame retardant?”

  “Yes, but… it may not be 100 percent effective. Even a slight plasma burn is painful. I’d hate myself if I harmed you.”

  “Don’t you trust yourself?”

  “No, not really.”

  He grinned. “I trust you. That’s one advantage of being Lycan. I’m a good judge of character, and I can sense you’re a good person who really doesn’t want to hurt others.”

  “But I have! In the not-so-distant past, I lost my temper big time and went too far.”

  “With who?”

  “Some warlock,” she huffed. “Actually, it was Estele’s second cousin from France. That date was a set-up, too.”

  “You liked him?”

  “I did. He was really interesting, but then he did something nasty.”

  “What? He came on too strong?”

  “He tried to slip a lust-slave mojo into my drink, but I caught him.”

  “Holy shit! What a slimy little sneak. That’s not cool. No wonder you were angry. What did you do to him?”

  “I took aim with my wand and chased him through downtown San Buena, scorching his hair and blasting his pants. I broke a lot of glass, too. It wasn’t good.”

  “And you feel bad about that? It sounds like he had it coming.”

  “He did, but I wish I hadn’t lost control. He left town, and I have to wear an orange Cal Trans vest every Saturday and collect trash on the side of the freeway.”

  “For the record, I think you did the right thing.”

  “Thanks. I was pissed off at him, but I was really disappointed in myself. I thought I had it more together than that.” She swayed forward and pressed her palm to her forehead. “Circe’s sleeping potion, I’m exhausted. I can barely stay upright. This circle of protection thing is doing a number on me.”

  “Fredi,” he said softly. “Relax. I’ve got good instincts, and something tells me the worst is behind us and we don’t have to fight so hard to keep the situation under control.”

  “I wish I could agree, but you don’t know Estele like I do. Her spells are like a wicked jack-in-the-box. Anything can pop out, and you can’t predict when.”

  The excess Lycan hair had retreated from Gus’s face and arms. He looked the same as he had earlier in the evening—a gorgeous lumberjack. “Something feels different. This is the chillest full moon I’ve had in a long time. I feel peaceful and I like it.”

  The pressure in her head built. “I’m happy for you.”

  “Come closer. Don’t make me beg unless you like it. My hands are tied. You’re in no danger. Stretch out beside me and relax for a minute.”

  “You’re the one in danger. Aren’t you afraid I might turn you into a flame-broiled Gus-kabob?”

  “No, I’m not. In fact, I want to test something.”

  “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s most likely a bad idea.”

  “Fredi, you pointed a magic wand at my crotch and I didn’t flinch… well, not that much. Doesn’t my opinion count for something? I told you, I feel a positive shift in our situation that has nothing to do with my wolf-shifting. Trust me. Come closer.”

  “All right.” She moved next to him. On a cool night, the warmth he radiated was inviting. She lay on the mattress and scooted closer until she was almost brushing his chest.

  A
gleam shone in his eyes. “See, nothing happened. Let’s take this experiment a little further. No arguments. I want you to be brave, lean over, and kiss me.”

  Chapter Six

  Fredi was left breathless as Gus stretched his legs against the silk patchwork of bedcovers and waited. The seductive gleam in his eyes simmered. A Moroccan lantern set on the nightstand cast geometric patterns of blue and amber across the side of his face and added a dramatic splash of color to the wall.

  “Well?” His voice was gentle. “You can’t kiss me if you don’t come closer.”

  She inched across the mattress, feeling a dizzying mix of emotions, the least of which was pure nerves. Propped on an elbow, she lay on her side and reconsidered what she was doing. Being this close to him was a real test of courage. He was so kissable, but she didn’t trust herself at all where the Wiccan fire was concerned.

  “Are you sure about this?”

  He remained calm. “Yes.”

  “I’ll start slow just in case—”

  “You’re overthinking things.”

  With fingertips pointed toward the ceiling and exercising extreme caution, she snuggled closer and kissed the dark, glossy hair on the center of his chest. The kiss was more of a faint brush of lips against bare skin, but it felt wonderful to be close to the heat rolling off his body and catch a whiff of his light, musky scent. She kissed his chest again. The kiss lingered, and she allowed the tip of her tongue to graze the edge of his nipple. Anxious seconds passed as she waited for the blast of green flames to roar from her fingertips, and she exhaled with relief when they didn’t materialize.

  “I don’t feel anything. No fire.”

  “I never thought I’d be so relieved to hear those words spoken in bed.” He focused on her. “Now, why don’t you let your guard down and give me a real kiss?”

  “A kiss kiss?”

  “A real kiss.”

  “Gus, if I hurt you or set the bed ablaze, I’ll never forgive myself. Think about what could go wrong. It could be awful. A charred crime scene wrapped in yellow tape...”