“That’s not true. Besides, the nearest psychiatric hospital is over an hour from here.”
“You checked?”
“I Googled it, but that’s beside the point.”
“You circled town for twenty minutes when we started out. You must have bypassed the highway three times.”
Guilt clouded her features, and a blush colored her cheeks. “I was…conflicted.”
“I know. So am I.”
She leaned forward. “Do you want to pull over and talk about it?”
He tapped the gas and slid back into the fast lane where traffic had opened up. “I still can’t decide if, once I’m revamped, I should bite you right away and be done with you, or keep you around for my amusement.” He didn’t mean a word of it. Really. He just wanted to savor her reaction.
“Bite me,” she said before turning her head to stare out the window in silence for the rest of the ride. Julian was pretty sure she didn’t mean it in the sexy way.
Chapter Six
City traffic eventually gave way to the semi-scenic coastal highway and finally to sandy lanes with nautical names like Tuna, Dolphin, Trout and Herring.
A low-slung bungalow done in salt-weathered clapboards at the end of one of these rural roads was their final destination. A mixture of smooth pebbles and broken shells crunched beneath the Hyundai’s tires when Julian pulled to the curb next to a battered mailbox bearing the name OAKES.
The cottage overlooked the bay and was protected from the elements by rolling sand dunes held together with spindly wire-and-stick fencing and man-sized tufts of sharp-bladed sea grass.
The breeze off the choppy water smelled of salt and the distant promise of summer. Zoe drew in lungfuls of it and sighed. She hadn’t seen the water in months. She’d been too busy eking out a profit at the shop and living the hand-to-mouth Bohemian lifestyle her mother and step-father so despised for her.
After a suspicious glance at the cloudless sky, Julian pulled in a deep breath and vaulted out of the car. He rounded the front fender, looking lean and just a little bit dangerous. If he hadn’t been wearing the long-sleeved flannel shirt she’d bought for him and hiding his gorgeous eyes beneath her Orioles ball cap and a pair of imitation Ray Bans, he’d have been devastating. What he really needed, Zoe decided, was a new leather jacket to replace the one that lay in tatters hidden under her bathroom sink. “Are you coming?” he asked.
She blinked at him. Given time, she probably could come, just from imagining him in complete bad boy regalia. “What? Yes.” She slithered out of the car and joined him on the cobbled path that led to the bungalow’s front door.
“Look at that sky,” she said, turning her face to the midday sun. “What a gorgeous day.”
He gave her a weary look. “No point in my getting used to it, is there?”
“I’m just saying. I haven’t gotten out much in a while myself. I miss it.”
“After a time, you don’t anymore.”
“Well, aren’t you a fuzzy ball of sunshine.”
“No. That would be you. I’m the dark cloud with the silver lining.”
She refused to rise to the bait and opted for changing the subject. “I’m hungry. Can we stop for lunch on the way back?”
That notion seemed to break through his churlish mood, proving the adage that the way to a man’s heart, dead or alive, was through his stomach. “If I’m still human when we’re done here. Otherwise I’ll probably just eat you.”
She rolled her eyes. “By all means, lead the way.”
He knocked on the raw planks of the front door. The crystalline tinkle of wind chimes danced around them, adding to the fairy tale quality of the place. Magick seemed to permeate every tiny detail of the house and the small, square yard fenced with white pickets.
Young herbs grew in a rock-lined garden out front, and gray Adirondack chairs, worn satiny smooth by the wind, faced the bay. Among the pebbles that covered the yard in lieu of grass lay glittering, colored stones here and there. Tiny sea shells decorated portions of the garden and clung to windowsills as if the sea itself had deposited them there. The place had an essence about it, something Zoe couldn’t name, but she felt it in her bones. Like the whisper of the tide belied the true power of the ocean, the serenity of the bungalow hid something just as strong.
“Nice place,” she commented just as the rickety screen door opened.
“Thank you.” The woman who answered was stunning and completely out of place in this rural setting. Her hair hung in shimmering auburn waves around a perfect face. Eyebrows the color of toasted cinnamon arched over smoky blue eyes. Her skin was flawless except for a dusting of freckles across her nose and, when she laid eyes on Julian, her full lips turned up in a smile worthy of Miss America.
Of course, what woman wouldn’t smile like that with a man like him on her doorstep?
Her voice had a whiskey quality to it that was both sweet and seductive and, to cap off the envious package, she wore a lavender sheath dress belted with a string of sea shells that made the most of womanly hips and a cleavage to die for.
Zoe fought not to frown at her, since she seemed friendly and certainly thrilled to see Julian.
“Oh, my…you’re out and about.” Her voice trailed off breathlessly, and she rushed through the door and threw herself into his arms.
Zoe stepped back, her eyes fixed on the spectacle, while Julian hugged the woman somewhat self-consciously.
“Hester,” he said. “Why do I get the feeling you were expecting me?”
Hester trailed her violet-tipped fingers down Julian’s outstretched arm and, clasping his fingers, drew him into the house.
Zoe followed, though she had the feeling at this point, neither would have noticed if she stripped off her clothes and ran screaming into the bay.
“I heard some things,” Hester said, her melodic voice low. “I was afraid for you. I tried to call—”
“My house blew up.”
Her stormy eyes widened. “Were you hurt? You look pale.”
“Vampire,” Zoe offered weakly. No one so much as batted an eyelash in her direction.
“No. I’m fine.”
Tired of being ignored, Zoe cleared her throat to interrupt the sugary reunion.
“Oh, uh…Zoe Boyd, this is Hester Oakes. She’s a witch. Hester, Zoe is a…a…”
Zoe rolled her eyes and stuck out a hand toward the red-headed column of sensual mystery. “Nice to meet you, Hester. That’s a name you don’t hear too often. Very Scarlet Letter.”
The witch looked down her perfect nose at Zoe and managed a tight smile. “Where do you think Hawthorne got it from?”
Well. Since there was no non-sarcastic comeback for that, Zoe offered a stiff grin and let her nervous gaze wander the cozy innards of the cottage.
The heady scent of fresh apples and a jumble of sweet herbs permeated the place. The furnishings looked old, but not reclaimed from garage sales and swap meets like Zoe’s own things. The pine tables, the Tiffany lamps and over-stuffed armchairs appeared authentically antique and meticulously kept.
Hester led them to a sitting area dominated by a stone hearth with a huge iron kettle hanging in the center.
Fabulous design element, Zoe grudgingly acknowledged. Hester took the whole witch thing seriously, apparently, judging by the homespun broom that sat next to the hearth along with a basket overflowing with dried lavender.
Her dusky gaze rested on Zoe for a moment, as if sizing her up, then flicked to Julian. “Let me look at you.” Julian removed the hat and glasses, and Hester ran her hands over his shoulders, testing his muscles, brushing his throat and jaw with her fingertips. “How do you feel?”
“Terrible. Lambert turned on me. The bastard made me human again.”
Hester nodded. “News travels fast. Apparently he’s already bragging about his coup. I heard from the Draconus.”
Zoe propped her chin on her hand and listened. This was unreal. This witch, this stunningly gorgeous witch,
actually believed Julian had been a vampire? Maybe she was just humoring him, though she certainly looked convincingly sympathetic. Then again, if she thought she was a witch, maybe she was as crazy as him. “The Draconus?”
“Don’t ask,” Julian said. “The less you know about Drac, the better.”
“You shouldn’t call him that. It’s disrespectful.” Hester sat in one of the armchairs and crossed her mile-long legs at the knee.
“Drac is your boss, not mine. Anyway, I need help. I have to get revamped as soon as possible. Lambert cannot win this. I won’t let him take over everything I’ve worked for.” Steel laced Julian’s words, and it made Zoe shiver to think about how determined he was to get revenge on his enemy.
“Revamped? Julian, I don’t know if that’s possible.”
His eyes went hard. “It has to be.”
“Well, it depends on how you got unvamped in the first place. Whose work is this? A wizard? Or did Lambert just stumble across some dark incantation in one of his dusty old books?”
“It was a potion. We were having a fairly pleasant conversation. I asked him to come down a little harder on the Inner Harbor vampires. He’s been letting his newer employees overfeed and there have been a few police reports about neck wounds. He agreed to do what I asked, then in the middle of the conversation, he tossed a little glass vial at me. It exploded in a cloud of red smoke. I had no idea what he was trying to do, but I knew I’d be in danger if I hung around to find out. I made my escape from our meeting place, and within a few moments, I was…breathing. It hurt like hell.”
Hester made sympathetic noises. “What did the smoke smell like?”
“Like smoke.”
“Can you be more specific? Was it coppery? Sulfuric?”
“I don’t remember.”
“That’s helpful. How am I supposed to know where to begin?”
Julian rose swiftly and paced the length of the room. With his long legs, it only took three steps before he had to turn around again. “I don’t have time for experiments. I need my life back, now. Don’t you have a spell that can counteract what Lambert did? Can’t you de-magick me somehow? Even if it’s only temporary, I just need my strength and my abilities back long enough to hunt him down and make him pay for this atrocity. Once I get his underlings back in line, I’ll worry about finding a permanent fix.”
Hester shook her lion’s mane of red hair. “You know as well as anyone it doesn’t work that way, Julian. Magick is a science. If I start snapping toadstool caps every which way and tossing flowery Latin phrases at you, you could end up trapped in something a lot worse than a human body. You should count yourself lucky Lambert didn’t turn you into a rat or a stone pillar, for heaven’s sake.”
“There’s got to be something you can do.”
“The transformation from vampire to human is…incredibly rare. I’m not even sure I can find a reference to it in my books. I’ve never heard of it being done before. In fact I wasn’t sure I believed it, until I saw you.”
Julian’s chest heaved with a deep, annoyed sigh. “I need to be myself again. Right now. Hester, I’ll do anything.”
Zoe locked eyes with the witch then. She hated seeing Julian look so desperate. “There must be something you can do for him.”
Hester raised a brow and directed her response to Julian. “Now what is she here for again? A snack for after the transformation you seem to think I’m so readily capable of?”
“She’s helping me,” Julian responded without hesitation.
“Do what? Buy a puppy?”
“Hey!” Zoe rose, though there was no way she could pull off looking imposing next to the ruby-lipped goddess. “I may look sweet and innocent, but I’ll have you know—”
Hester took the challenge, stretching gracefully upward to look down on Zoe. Her scotch-on-the-rocks voice went harsh. “When he’s done with you, baby face, the last thing you’ll ever be again is sweet and innocent. If you want to help him, consider for a moment that he might just be better off human.”
“Hester.” Julian’s voice was soothing, placating, and Zoe didn’t like it one bit. “I have no one else to turn to. I can’t trust any of my employees. I know Lambert has recruited some of them, and no vampire would help a human. Even if one did, I don’t want another sire who will require my loyalty. I need a magical fix. Can you reverse his spell or not?”
She drew in a deep breath, and her breasts seemed to strain against the crisp linen of her dress. “I’ll see what I can do, Julian, but it won’t happen overnight. I have to do some research. This might be something only the Draconus can fix.”
“Oh, that’s just great. If he has to come to my rescue, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“At least you’ll be around to hear him brag about it for centuries.” There was a hint of humor in Hester’s voice, but Julian didn’t laugh. He turned that piercing gaze on her, and Zoe had to wonder how any woman could refuse a request that accompanied a look like that.
“At this point, I’m willing to put up with anything.”
Zoe didn’t like the way his eyes slid in her direction when he spoke. She bristled, but managed to swallow another snide comment.
“Give me a couple of days. That’s the best I can do. And think about the consequences of your actions. Getting revamped might be the worst thing you ever do.” The thread of sadness in her voice was unmistakable. Some silent communication passed between the two, and Zoe felt small and insignificant in the middle of their battle of wills.
Finally, Julian broke eye contact. “I’ll be waiting. And remember, no price is too high. If you can do this for me, any reward you ask is yours.”
“I don’t know if you have anything I want, Julian.”
Another awkward moment passed, then Hester seemed to come back to herself. “Where can I reach you?”
“I’ll have to call you.”
“He’ll be at my place.” Why Zoe felt a small, guilty surge of triumph, she couldn’t say, but she enjoyed fishing a business card out of her purse and scribbling her home number and her cell phone on the back. She handed it to the bombshell witch. “I’ll see that he gets any message.”
There was definitely fire in Hester’s eyes when she snatched the card from Zoe’s fingers. Now she had an ex-vampire for a friend and a pissed-off witch for an enemy. Could the day get any better? “It was nice meeting you.”
“Likewise.” Hester’s tone revealed it was anything but.
Julian grabbed Zoe’s hand—another coup that seem to ruffle Hester’s feathers—and dragged her toward the door. “Anything, Hester. It’s yours if you can cure me.”
“Just go, Julian. I have a lot of work to do.”
They emerged into the afternoon sunlight, and Zoe felt a distinct chill run down her spine. “Do you think she can do it?” she asked as Julian replaced his hat and glasses. They climbed into the car, and this time she didn’t argue with him assuming the driver’s seat.
“If anyone can.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know she’s in love with you?” It pained her to ask, but Hester had worn her heart on her lavender buttercup sleeve.
“That’s ridiculous. She’s no more capable of love than I am.” Julian executed a perfect K turn and directed the Hyundai back toward the Coastal Highway.
“You’ve slept with her.”
He shrugged. “And you’ve slept with Bryan. It means nothing.”
Zoe choked on a lump of guilt. “No, I haven’t.”
“Yes, you have.”
“What makes you think so?”
“Every time I’ve mentioned it, you seize up. Your shoulders hunch, and your nipples get hard.”
“What!” She crossed her arms over her chest. He certainly couldn’t see anything incriminating through her thick sweater. “Keep your eyes off my…nipples, please!”
“So you admit it?”
She’d promised on her grandmother’s grave she’d nev
er admit it to anyone. “Yes. Once. And we both agreed never to do it again.”
“Why?”
“How did this become about me?”
“Skillful manipulation on my part. Was he awful in bed?”
“No.”
“Were you?”
“No! We just realized it was a mistake. We didn’t know how Tanya felt at the time, and if we had—”
“And Tanya is his wife?”
“No! Oh God. This is becoming an episode of Jerry Springer. Can we change the subject back to you and Hester?”
“We’ve slept together on occasion. We’re not lovers.”
“Well, she looks at you like you are.”
“Then she should want to help me.”
That wasn’t what Zoe had seen in Hester’s eyes. She’d seen defeat of some kind, heart-wrenching loss. “Her idea of help might not be exactly what you have in mind.”
Julian tapped the brake and gave her a contemplative stare. “Then I’ll find someone who can do exactly what I want done. Understand, Zoe, I won’t give up until I get back everything Lambert took from me.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Chapter Seven
After a heated debate on the merits of counter service versus the convenience of a drive-through, Zoe convinced Julian to stop for lunch at a bayside café. Still intrigued by the depth of his delusions, she hung back and watched while a lanky, uniformed waiter led him to the shadiest spot on the open-air deck that served as a spring-and-summer dining room.
Still buried in his disguise, he adjusted the canvas umbrella over their table and cautiously eyed the angle of the late afternoon sun. Shaking her head, she joined him and turned her face to the temperate breeze blowing off the water. “People are staring at you,” she whispered.
He settled in one of the plastic chairs and tipped the brim of his borrowed cap up a fraction of an inch. “I don’t want to burn.”
“Haven’t we been over this? You’re human now. The sun won’t kill you.”
“I’ve been in the dark for a hundred years, and I plan to live a lot longer than that once I’m revamped. With the ozone depletion, I don’t want to risk melanoma.”
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