by Terri Garey
"Hello, gorgeous."
The voice was unfamiliar.
I turned, and met the eyes of one of the hunkiest guys I'd ever seen in my life. Spiky blond hair, cheekbones a fashion model would kill for, and a wicked grin. He was wearing a sleeveless black leather vest, no shirt, and tight jeans with the cuffs laced into combat boots—the perfect "bad boy."
He winked at me like we were old friends, raising his glass. "Looks like we're kindred spirits," he said. "I can't get enough of that old Black Magic either."
Old habits die hard, I guess. Besides, a little flirting never hurt anybody. I tilted my head and touched the tip of my whip to my chin.
"Let me guess… Spike, from Buffy the Vampire Slayer."
He shook his head, still grinning. A silver earring glinted from one ear.
I guessed again. "Billy Idol?" God, I loved a man in black eyeliner.
"That old punk?" He laughed, pretending to be insulted. "Way overrated."
"Who are you, then?"
"I'm the man of your dreams, baby."
I'd heard that one before, so why did it sound so different when he said it? I watched as he took a sip of his drink, blue eyes never leaving me.
"How original. Is that the best you can do?" Despite the lousy come-on, I found myself intrigued, and more than just a little attracted. His eyes were an unusual shade of blue—very pale, and very striking. Warning bells should've been going off, but I felt wrapped in silk. Smooth, slippery silk.
He took a step closer. "Talk is cheap. Let me prove it to you." He smelled like cloves, a spicy scent that made my mouth water. I didn't pull away when he leaned in close to whisper in my ear. "I'll bet I know just how you like it: you on top, and me inside you. Hard, hot, and eager to please."
His breath was tickling my neck, and my belly fluttered at the mental image that popped into my brain. Up close, I could see that the silver earring was actually a small skull and crossbones.
Walk away, Styx. Walk away.
I wanted to, but my body seemed to have a mind of its own. One lean, muscular shoulder was right in front of me, and I wanted to lick it—just once—to see if he tasted as good as he smelled.
"Nicki? Yoo-hoo, Nicki!" Evan's voice broke the spell.
I jerked back, avoiding eye contact with Mr. Eye Candy.
Evan was at my elbow, looking garishly feminine in his wig and fake eyelashes. The look he was giving me was laced with warning.
"The costume contest is about to start." The look turned more pointed. "Where's Joe?"
"Joe?" I was flustered, off-balance. What'd they put in this drink, anyway?
"Joe." Evan was beginning to get that tone in his voice. "Your boyfriend—remember?" Someone jostled my elbow, and I glanced over to find Butch standing on my other side, giving my new friend an expressionless stare. I sighed, recognizing the drill. I was in the middle of an overly protective "Minelli" sandwich.
"He's right over there." I pointed toward the corner bar, and saw Joe watching me across the room. The crowd shifted, and I lost sight of him, but I'd seen enough to tell that he wasn't smiling anymore.
My Billy Idol look-alike glanced that way, then turned back to me. He ignored my gay security squad and raised his drink in an admiring salute. "'Abashed the Devil stood, and felt how awful goodness is, and saw Virtue in her own shape how lovely; saw and pined his loss.'"
My jaw dropped. It was weird enough to hear some guy spouting quotes in a bar, but his choice of quotes…
"Milton. Paradise Lost," he added, with another wicked grin. His pale blue gaze flicked over Evan and Butch. "And apparently it is." He winked at me. "For now, anyway. See you around, Nicki Styx."
Then he walked away, his blond head quickly lost in the throng of people on the dance floor.
"Who the hell was that?" Evan didn't mince words.
"I don't know." And I wasn't sure I wanted to. "Just some guy, that's all."
I'd never told him my name.
The music seemed louder than ever, the bass from the speakers thumping in time with my heart.
"Earth to Nicki." Evan was getting impatient. "Put your tongue back in your mouth, will you? The costume party is about to start." He hated being last in line for anything, and a group was starting to gather near the main stage.
I didn't bother to take offense. "Butch, put your sunglasses back on, and Evan, let me check your makeup." I used my thumb to wipe away a nonexistent smudge of lipstick and gave him a quick hug, sending him off to the spotlight. "As they say in show business, break a leg."
"Please," Evan said. "These legs are worth more than Liza's. Prettier, too."
Evan and Butch headed toward the stage, arm in arm. Heads were already turning in their direction, and I was glad. Evan adored being the center of attention, and camped it up as Liza. They drew howls from the crowd as they moved toward the stage, Liza pretending to trip and then smacking poor Butch on the head with her purse.
"Who was that guy you were talking to?" Joe was back, beer in hand. I found myself incredibly glad to see him. What had I been thinking, flirting with that blond guy?
"Just some guy," I answered, with a little stab of guilt. "He offered to buy me a drink."
"It looked like he was offering more than that."
Joe sounded tense, and I met his eye, surprised. He'd never shown any sign of jealousy before—but then I'd never given him any reason to.
Technically, I hadn't given him any reason tonight either. Thinking wasn't the same as doing.
"It doesn't matter what he was offering." Calmly, I took a sip of my Black Magic. "I wasn't buying."
It was hard to hear above the music, but I was fairly certain that Joe gave a grunt of dissatisfaction before raising his bottle of beer and taking a swig.
"I thought you liked having a hot girlfriend," I reminded him teasingly. "You didn't mind when the guy in the Bill Clinton mask pinched me in the ass earlier."
"The blond guy was different," he said grudgingly, still not smiling. I raised my eyebrows at him. and he responded with, "I didn't like the way you were looking at him."
A round of clapping and laughter came from the stage area, reminding me that Joe and I were there to have fun. The urge to get defensive passed as quickly as it came, and I gave him a flirtatious grin. "Was it anything like the way I'm looking at you now?"
Wryly, he grinned back. "Unfortunately, yes."
"It couldn't have been," I said, and leaned against him. "Because I don't see anyone but you."
His free hand came around my waist. "I'm not very good at sharing, Nicki. I want you all to myself."
I raised on tiptoe to speak directly into his ear. "I want you, too… naked."
He chuckled, pulling me closer as I tilted my head to hear his reply. "Your wish is my command, but you'll have to wait until later." His teeth nipped my earlobe, making me shiver, and all was right with the world.
An hour later Evan and Butch were the proud owners of the "Cutest Couple" trophy, and I was pleasantly mellow from laughing and dancing with my hunky doctor/bad boy. Joe and I were taking a breather at a table near the wall.
He was eyeing me over the rim of his beer, smiling and happy. A few dark strands of hair had escaped the styling gel to fall over his forehead, and his face was flushed from dancing. He looked hot, in more ways than one.
"Having a good time?" He had to raise his voice to be heard above the music. Purple and green strobe lights bathed the room in Halloween color, making a shifting kaleidoscope out of the costumed crowd.
I only had eyes for Joe, though. "I'm having a great time. I really needed to get out, have a little fun."
"Me, too." He smiled in the way that made his eyes crinkle, the way that made my heart twist. "I always have fun when I'm with you."
He leaned in, eyes roving over my face and hair. "I probably shouldn't say this, but I'm glad Kelly didn't come." Joe cocked his head, giving me a sexy grin. "Two's company, three's a crowd."
His tattooed biceps were d
istracting me. The faint sheen of sweat on his skin made me want to lick him right where the barbed wire crisscrossed his upper arm.
"I bought you a present," he said. "I wanted to give it to you in private."
"A private present?" I arched an eyebrow at him. "I think you've already given me that. Quite a few times."
He laughed, and the sound of it made me feel good. I wanted to make this man laugh every day. I took a sip of my Black Magic, smiling at him over the glass.
"It's a Halloween present." Joe leaned back in his seat and slipped a hand in his pocket. "For the prettiest ghoul I know."
Whatever the present was, it had to be small—there wasn't a lot of wiggle room in the pockets of those tight leather pants.
And I knew why. Lucky me.
Joe's hand came out with a small white envelope. He grinned as he gave it to me. "Not the fanciest packaging, but I hope you don't mind. I didn't want to carry a little box around."
The envelope was heavier than I'd thought. The paper bulged in a slight circle, like it held a coin. Or a ring.
My heart started to pound.
"Open it," he urged. "It won't bite."
The envelope was unsealed. I shook the contents into my palm.
It was a ring. Even in the dim light, I could tell it was vintage. The gleam of old sterling silver vied with the sparkle of marcasite, framing a single drop of black onyx.
I loved it.
"I saw it in the window of an antique shop over on Newberry Street," he said. "It looked like you."
I glanced up from the ring, touched. It was perfect—just perfect. No strings attached.
"It's gorgeous… absolutely gorgeous. I love it." I leaned across the table to kiss him, several times. I slipped the ring on my finger, but it was a little loose, so I moved it to my index finger. Perfect. "You are so gonna get lucky tonight," I said.
The grin that split his face was a sight to behold.
Then a look of disappointment ruined it. He glanced down at his cell phone, clipped to his belt. "Uh-oh."
Crap.
With an apologetic shrug, Joe undipped his phone. He was a doctor, after all, so I didn't do anything but make a brief face as he answered. "Hello?… Kelly?" The look he gave me was apprehensive. "Calm down. Have you called the police?"
"The police?" How did Kelly get Joe's cell phone number?
"Calm down…" Joe's eyes were on my face. "If there's someone in the house you should call the police." His shoulders eased and he shook his head to let me know there was no reason to worry.
"Okay, okay. Tell me what happened. Slowly." Joe listened intently, watching me all the while. "Yeah… uh-huh." One eyebrow shot skyward. "But—" he was obviously cut off mid-sentence. "I don't know. I think you need to talk to Nicki." He thrust the phone at me without waiting for a reply.
"Kelly?" This had better be good.
"I did something stupid, Nicki." Kelly's voice sounded shaky. "I did something really stupid."
Great.
"I decided to try and make contact with Peaches. I used a scrying mirror and a candle, and I think—"
"You used what?" The music at the Vortex was pretty loud. "What's a crying mirror?"
"A scrying mirror." She was nearly shouting. "Never mind, it doesn't matter what I used! I tried to call up Peaches's spirit, and someone else's spirit came through!"
I could've killed her. Things had been nice and quiet in the dearly departed department, but she'd had to go and stir things up…
"I'm scared, Nicki. Please come home."
I looked at Joe, how his sexy, carefree smile had been replaced by seriousness and concern. "We'll be right there," I said with a sigh.
* * *
CHAPTER 8
"What were you thinking?"
Kelly was sitting on the couch, looking chastened, but I had little sympathy for her at the moment. We'd arrived home to find the house brightly lit and nothing whatsoever going on. Joe was still checking the closets and making sure all the windows were locked—at Kelly's insistence—but Evan, Butch, Kelly, and I were in the living room, and I was pissed.
"Why did you have to go looking for trouble, Kelly? If the dead want to talk to you, they'll talk to you. I've told you that before." Like she ever listened.
"I wasn't looking for trouble," she insisted. "I just wanted to talk to Peaches one last time." A flash of resentment in her eyes, quickly veiled.
Joe walked in, shaking his head. "House is clear. What exactly did you do?"
Kelly sighed, gesturing toward a black candle on the coffee table. I'd put it there last week as part of my Halloween decorations, just like the pumpkin on the front porch. "I bought a scrying mirror on the Internet," she said.
There it was, a framed hand mirror, lying facedown right next to the candle. Curious, I picked it up and turned it over. Oddly enough, the surface of the mirror was black, not silver, but just as reflective. The frame itself was beautiful, a great example of turn-of-the-century Art Nouveau, depicting the profile of a young woman peering into the mirror from the bronzed flowers that ringed the mirror itself. The woman's gowned legs swept downward to form the handle, satiny with age. A gorgeous piece of vintage, yet it gave me the creeps.
"You bought this on the Internet?"
"EBay," Kelly said distractedly. "You're supposed to turn out all the lights and sit in the dark with a candle, thinking about the person you want to talk to. Then you stare into the mirror and wait for them to appear."
Evan was sitting in the wing chair, Butch standing next to him. He was already holding Butch's hand, but now he clutched it like a lifeline.
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," I told her. Then the lightbulb went off. "Wait a minute. You've been planning this, haven't you?"
Kelly had the grace to look vaguely uncomfortable.
"You bought the mirror, you waited until Halloween, and then you lit the candle." I shook my head, thinking about the guilt trip she'd laid on me earlier. "That's why you didn't want to come with us tonight."
"So what if I did?" she flared. "Nobody likes to be a third wheel! I bought the mirror out of curiosity, but I hadn't used it. I was scared to, honestly. But, I—" She stopped, swallowed. "I had to try." She lowered her voice. "I wish I hadn't."
"What happened?" Joe pulled me down next to him on the couch, subtly getting me to ease off.
"I saw a man," she said. "He… he spoke to me."
"Oh my God!" Evan's outburst saved me the trouble. "What did he look like?"
Kelly shook her head. "I don't know. The mirror was cloudy, the room was dark." She crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "The man wouldn't let Peaches come through. He said Peaches owed him a favor, and he wouldn't let her go until we gave him what he wanted."
"What?"
"I'm just telling you what he said!" Kelly's voice rose. She stopped, took a shuddering breath, and rubbed her face briskly with her hands. "He said to go to the house in Savannah, the Blue Dahlia. He said there was something there he wanted, and that if we could get it for him, he'd let Peaches go."
"Let her go where?" Poor Butch sounded as confused as I felt.
"Into the light," Kelly said quietly.
"Get what?" I asked, still highly skeptical. The whole episode sounded awfully "smoke and mirrors" to me.
"I don't know," Kelly said. Her eyes slid away. "I was scared—I freaked out and put the mirror down as fast as I could." She shuddered. "I never want to look into it again."
We were all quiet for a few moments.
Then Kelly said, "We have to go to Savannah, Nicki."
Um, no. "I don't wanna go to Savannah."
"But we have to," Kelly insisted. She leaned forward on the couch, resting her elbows on her knees. "I think Peaches was here earlier—she was trying to get our attention, but the guy in the mirror wouldn't let her come through."
At my skeptical look, Kelly's chin went up. "I have proof. Look at these." The pictures she'd taken before we'd left for the pa
rty were scattered all over the coffee table. "I uploaded them to the color printer after you left." She thrust one at me.
There the four of us were in the picture, laughing and smiling, looking like rejects from the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Evan, Butch, Joe, and me. And someone else.
Someone was standing behind me, but I couldn't make out who, or even how. It looked like a shadowy face peering over my shoulder. Then I realized that the picture on my living room wall was still visible—through the person's head.
I pulled off my witch's hat and tossed it aside, wincing at the tug of glitter gel. Peaches was supposed to be gone, crossed over or whatever.
"We have to go to Savannah and talk to Bijou," Kelly argued. "Peaches's spirit needs our help. Bijou said she could train us to use the knack—maybe she could help us free Peaches so she can go into the light."
Joe, Evan, Butch, and I looked at the photos several times—there was definitely a foggy image in most of them. Evan was pale, and Butch's untaped eyebrows had gone back to their pretaped position.
I didn't want to go to Savannah. Kelly would drag me into something I didn't want to be dragged into, and I'd have to leave Joe and the store and Evan…
Besides, I wasn't entirely convinced that Kelly hadn't just spooked herself out and imagined some guy in the mirror. Peaches had said good-bye and been laid to rest. I was pretty certain she was gone.
"I'll think about it, Kelly, but I can't just pick up and leave the store, and I'm not going anywhere tonight, that's for sure. Let's talk about it in the morning, shall we?" I'd wanted to have a good time tonight, dammit. The party had been ruined, and I'd promised Joe—and myself—that he was gonna get lucky.
"Um…" Evan uncrossed his legs and rose from his seat as gracefully as the real Liza would, reaching out a hand for Butch. "I think we'll head on home. It's a long drive." He wasn't fooling anybody, but I didn't blame him. Let him go spend some quiet time alone with his man.
Wish I could do the same. I couldn't help but glance toward Kelly, who'd gone back to studying her spirit photos.
Inwardly, I sighed. Having a housemate who'd once been married to your boyfriend was a little inhibiting when it came to having wild sex in your own bed. I'd imagined Joe naked more than once that evening, and the image wasn't going away.