Oops, I Hexed It Again

by Renee George

  "Are you going to tell me why you whisked me out of the ballroom like your broomstick was on fire?"

  "Har har," I said. "Jokes on you. My broomstick is fireproof." Witches didn't need broomsticks to fly, but some of the more rural of my kind liked to kick it old school.

  "That's not an answer."

  "It's an answer. Just not the one you're looking for." I wanted to tell him about Fate, and I'd made up my mind on the elevator ride up to do it as soon as I was sure we wouldn't be monitored, but when I tried to speak about her, it was as if the words got caught in my throat. I coughed and tried again. Nothing. I put my finger to the back of my tongue, gagged, and dry heaved. When I could breathe again, I said, "That was a bad idea."

  "Just tell me."

  "I can't," I said, kicking off my ginormously high heels. I reached back and couldn't unclasp the tiny clasp on the dress at the top of the zipper. I struggled, spinning, bending, jumping, and damn near ripping at the fabric to get ahold of the elusive damn thing. I am extremely flexible. This should not have been a problem. "Ahh!" I let out in frustration.

  "Do you want help?"

  "No." I turned my back to him. "But I obviously need it."

  He chuckled, and the sexy sound made my vee-jay tingle as if ready to mingle.

  "Down, girl," I chided.

  I felt his fingertips at the base of my neck. "What?" he asked.

  "Nothing." I wiggled my knees, trying to distract my lusty loins. "Do you have it, yet?"

  "Almost," he said. "It's lodged in the seam." Every time his hands brushed the tiny hairs at the back of my neck, my thighs quivered.

  I yanked forward, staggering a few steps. "I'll figure it out," I said.

  "I got it," he replied. "The clasp is undone now." His eyes warmed with undeniable desire as he stared at me. "I can get the zipper for you if you want."

  I wanted. Oh, baby, how I wanted! And I almost nearly agreed, but then I saw my reflection in the sliding glass doors. I looked like Pepper Rain. Not me. Monty wasn't seeing me when he cast me those come-hither bedroom eyes. He was seeing her.

  "I can handle the zipper." Besides, I recalled Shirley's words, consummation would prevent a nullification, and I'd have to petition for an actual divorce. I wasn't sure sex with anyone, especially the high and mighty Montrose Abadose, was worth taking that hit.

  Our luggage had been sent up to our room on our arrival, so mine was on the left side of the bed. I grabbed a gray t-shirt and my favorite pair of yoga pants, soft and loose just the way I liked them.

  "Pepper Rain wouldn't be caught dead in athleisure wear," Monty said as he watched me unpack.

  "You would know," I said. "But this is private, and in private, Gigi Wise is about substance over style."

  "And what if the Divinus Paradiso decides to pop us into another ritual tonight."

  Crap, the thought hadn't even crossed my mind. "I don't own any lingerie."

  A knock at the suite's door started us both. "You get it," I said.

  Monty nodded. He slipped his hand in his pocket and went to the door. "Who's there?" he demanded.

  "Concierge," a man with a robust Bahamian accent said. "I have a package for Mrs. Pepper Rain Abadose."

  Monty looked back at me. I shrugged. I hadn't ordered anything. "Maybe it's a wedding gift."

  Monty opened the door, and a young black man in a white uniform held out a large red box tied with a pink satin bow. Monty took the package and slipped the man a hundred-dollar bill for his trouble. I cringed. That was a full day's salary for me, but for someone like an Abadose, it was probably chump change. He thanked the man and closed the door between them.

  When we were alone again, I asked, "What is it?"

  Monty pulled the card from its envelope. "Do you want me to read it?"

  "Sure."

  "It says, You are a child of destiny. Trust in your fate." He turned the card over and furrowed his brow. "That's it. No name. Are you sure you don't know who sent this?"

  I opened my mouth to spill about my encounter with Fate, but once again, not a word came out. What the fairy's hairy ass was going on?

  "Not a clue," I finally said, because for whatever reason, Fate had secrets and she wanted me to keep them. "Open the box."

  I held my breath with more than a little trepidation as Monty untied the bow and removed the ribbon from around the box. He lifted the lid. Inside was rainbow-colored tissue paper as if Fate wanted to make sure that I knew this gift was from her.

  I was afraid of exploding glitter bombs, so I stepped back as Monty peeled away the tissue paper to reveal the contents. His eyes widened. Then he folded the tissue paper back down and grunted a, "huh."

  "Well?" I asked, afraid to look. "What the hell is it?"

  He shook his head. "You'll have to check it out yourself. But before you do, know that I had nothing to do with this gift." He gave me a sour look. "Though I'm interested to know who sent it."

  Since I couldn't tell him, I put my big girl panties on and prepared myself for whatever Fate had seen fit to put into my path.

  I pushed back the tissue paper, my eyes widening like Monty's had and followed by a similar grunt. It was a pearl-colored satin camisole slip with Chantilly lace trim. I lifted it from the box, appalled when I saw the matching panties under. I blew out a quick sigh of relief when I saw they weren't see-through. Also, they were bikini cut and not some ridiculous string-up-the-butt cut. But still.

  "Well, I guess I have lingerie." I wadded it up in a ball and tucked it under my arm. "I'll be back."

  I undressed and dressed quickly. I found a plush white robe provided by the resort for guests hanging on the inside of the bathroom door. I threw up a thanks to the Goddess as I threw it on over the slinky nightie. When I came out, Monty was in bed already, laying on the covers, and wearing forest green silk pajama bottoms that sit low on his hips and no shirt. He had a swimmer's build, broad chest with a narrow waist and hips. His muscles were compact, not bulky, and I found myself staring at the smattering of dark hair that trailed from just below his navel down under his waistband.

  Rawr. Hubba hubba, my libido said. Shut up, I told it.

  Monty, who must have seen the war going on in my expression, smirked. "Do you want to put some kind of barrier between us on the bed?"

  "I'm not going to molest you if that's what you're worried about."

  "I'm pretty hard to resist," he teased.

  Goddess, he really was! "You're not that hot," I lied.

  He folded his hands behind his head. "If you say so."

  I threw back the covers and climbed in bed on my side. "I do." I shimmied out of the robe, not an easy feat when fighting sheets in the process, and tossed it on the floor. "So, are you going to tell me what you and Mar-mar were talking about?"

  "She was listing the many ways she could ride my--"

  "I get it," I said, cutting him off.

  "And what about Doyle? Your conversation with him looked lively."

  I snorted. "Hardly. I think for all of Marlow's talk of sharing, Pepper and Doyle have been having a secret affair that he doesn't want Libby to know about."

  "Really?" He rolled onto his side toward me and propped up on his elbow. I noticed the way his six-pack bunched and released with the effort.

  I pivoted my gaze to his face. "Yep. Really. Frankly, I was disgusted by the whole one-on-one with that jerk."

  "Do you think it could disrupt their objective if Libby found out?"

  "Possibly." I gave him an appraising glance. "We could keep it in our pocket as a Hail, Marge, if you will."

  "It might balance the scales a little if things go awry."

  I nodded. "I also found out that tomorrow night is going to be the first night of the constellation ritual."

  "First? So, this isn't a one and done?" He ran his fingers through his hair and pursed his lips in thought.

  My throat was dry as I remembered the toe-curling kiss he'd planted on me earlier. It would be so easy to scoot over the
few feet separating us and let him do it again. He scratched his lickable chest, and I groaned. Out loud. Ugh.

  "Are you okay?" Monty asked.

  "Uh-huh." I licked my parched lips. I scrambled for an excuse that didn't scream, I'm a horny, sexually frustrated witch who can't stop thinking about what it would feel like to climb his... I fanned myself. "I think I'm dehydrated. I heard that happens on these tropical islands. It's all the salt in the air."

  He got up from the bed.

  "Where are you going?"

  "To get you some water." He went into the living room then came back with a bottle of water." He handed it to me. "Here."

  "Thanks." I drank half the bottle in a singled swig. I didn't even notice the slightly funny taste until a numbness started in my tongue. I coughed, water spraying from my mouth. "Uh...uh-oh," I said on a choke. My throat had become totally numb now.

  "Is something wrong?"

  I dropped the bottle as my hands and arms went limp at my side. My head lolled sideways in Monty's direction. "Poy-than," I said, my tongue feeling thick and swollen.

  He raced to my bedside. "What?"

  "Poy-poy....than."

  "Poythan?"

  My eyes rolled back for a moment as if I were trying to get an up-close look at my brain. I couldn't make the "s" sound because of the numbness. "Dwugged," I said, trying again.

  "Gigi!" Monty said. He propped me up and patted my back as if I were choking on food. "Tell me what to do."

  Now my mouth, along with the rest of my body was frozen, unable to move, reminding me of those living zombies. Had someone put puffer fish toxin in the water? Whatever was in that damned bottle was paralyzing, but it wasn't knocking me out. My lungs squeezed, suddenly and violently, whooshing the breath from me, and I gasped, or rather, I tried to gasp, but I couldn't take in any air. My heartbeat climbed into my throat, clamoring in my ears, as I watched my life of all work and no play flashed before my eyes. Goddess help me, I was going to die, and for all my dedication to the job, I had nothing to show for my efforts. Nothing that said, Gigi Wise was here.

  As I fought to breathe, my peripheral vision dimmed, and all sound was dulled by a cotton effect in my ears. Monty's arms were around me, and I could hear my name like a distant echo as a blissful peace settled over me, and the room went dark around us as I died.

  As if a dream, I felt Monty's arms around me. He pressed his lips to my forehead. "Don't leave," I thought I heard him say. "Stay."

  I inhaled his musk and jasmine scent as his warmth blanketed my skin. "You smell so delicious," I said.

  "Do I?" he asked a tone of relief and amusement in his voice.

  I blinked my eyes open, his face only inches from mine. "Hey, am I dead? Are you?" I had to be dead. You didn't go from paralyzing poison to feeling one-hundred percent better in seconds. Maybe the afterlife was one big fantasy you got to play out. I decided to test the theory. I slid my hands up his chest, the short hairs tickling my fingers before I reached around his neck to pull him down into a kiss that, like the water, had stolen my breath. I patted his cheek after. "If this is death, I'm not mad about it."

  "You're not dead," Monty said, wearing a seductive smile. I studied his eyelashes, thick and long and the same color as his hair.

  "You have the most beautiful eyes," I said.

  "Gigi," he assured me, his voice gentle. "You are very much alive."

  I frowned. "How?"

  He ran his fingertips down my arm to my wrist. He lifted my hand, so I could see the MAN bracelet he'd placed on me. "You know I'm a healer," he said. "But when I tried to pull the poison from you, it started attacking me. I suspected the culprit might be magic related. You returned to normal the moment I put it on your wrist." He grinned and touched his lips. "Well, mostly normal."

  "I wouldn't have kissed you if I'd known I was alive," I said, only slightly indignant, because kissing him was really super fun.

  "Do I really have beautiful eyes?" He batted his lashes.

  "Shut up."

  "Is that a yes?"

  Goddess, I wanted to kiss him again. "Can we discuss the fact that someone tried to take me out with black magic?" I glanced over at our reflection in the mirrors surrounding the tub. Pepper Rain no longer looked back at me. "And will it still try to kill me without the MAN? If so, the mission is over."

  Chapter Seven

  "What are we going to do?" I paced back and forth over the floor aquarium as a neon-striped fish chased my bare toes. "I can't leave the room looking like this. I mean, look at me." I motioned with my hands from my head to toes, toes to head. "Just look at me."

  "I'm looking," Monty said. His amused expression pissed me off.

  "You think this is funny? Our whole mission depends on me being able to pull off Pepper Rain. Is your ego so big, that seeing me fail is more important than the job?"

  He frowned. "Is that what you think?"

  "Well, you don't seem all that upset about it." I crossed my arms over my chest and plopped down onto the edge of the bed.

  "And you seem like a petulant child."

  "I..." I kind of did. "What are we going to do?"

  "First, we need to figure out what curse was placed on the water bottle."

  "Let me just think out loud here for a moment. What if it was a targeted attack or if it didn't matter who the hex took out as long as it was one of us." I crossed one leg over the other and began bouncing my toes. "What if it was a leftover hex. Random."

  "Like if someone cast a spell on a case of water and put it in random rooms."

  I shrugged. "Maybe. It could also be someone outside the cult who knows what they are up to and is trying to stop them."

  "You think someone is taking witch law into their own hands? That's a death curse. It has to be. Even if the people they were taking out were the worst witches and warlocks in existence, it would still land the vigilante in jail. First, do no harm and all that good stuff."

  Monty nodded. "We need to figure out the source spell to reverse it."

  "I'm pretty good with hexes, but," I held up my wrist, "I can't do anything without my magic."

  "I know who we can call on."

  "Who? We aren't supposed to bring in any other agents."

  Monty walked toward the door before I heard the knock. He flung it open, and Marlow Marshall stood on the other side. I dove to the far side of the bed, so she wouldn't see me. What in the good Goddess's name was he thinking just opening the door without checking? Our situation must have short-circuited his brain.

  "Come in," I heard him say. "Hurry."

  That man had really lost his mind. I peered over the top of the bed and glimpsed him ushering Marlow toward the bedroom. I shook my head, worried that maybe he'd drank the Kool-aid. Was he a pawn in this? Had he been working both sides of the fence on this assignment? A double agent, if you will? It made absolutely no sense. But he had brought up the idea that the hexer could be someone trying to stop the Divinus Paradiso. What if that went against his own personal agenda?

  Goddess! How could I be such a greenie to fall for his stand-up guy act? Damn it. I was wearing the MAN to keep me alive, so no way to call up a defensive spell, and I was wearing a freaking negligee, and my shoes were in the closet with the wedding dress. I hated wearing the stilettos, but they would have made an excellent weapon, especially with my hand-to-hand combat skills. Unfortunately, there wasn't a whole lot of anything I could do with no powers against two formidable foes.

  In other words, I was utterly screwed and not in a fun way.

  "Where is Gigi?" Marlow asked.

  Until that moment, I think a part of me had been holding out hope that Monty hadn't betrayed me, but the proof standing in the middle of our suite asking where the hell I was.

  "Gigi?" Monty said. He poked his head into the bedroom, and his gaze fell on mine. "Why are you hiding behind the bed?"

  "Oh, I don't know. I'm getting a full body massage. A facial. A mani-pedi is next."

  He stepped int
o the room and spoke as if I was a rabid deer ready to bite and bolt. He wasn't far off the mark. I planned to fight until my last breath. "Don't come any closer," I warned.

  "What's wrong?" His fake confusion was laughable.

  "I don't know what sick game you're playing, but I won't be a pawn in your whatever power trip you're on."

  His brow dipped, and his gaze narrowed on me. "You've lost your mind."

  "Come on, Monty," Marlow said. She twirled and said, "Let unseen be seen, before Gigi gets mean." When Marlow stopped spinning, Brita Davis stood in her place.

  Not wholly trusting the scene yet, I stood up and asked, "Is this for real?"

  "Of course, it's for real," Monty quipped.

  "Brita is the best hex witch I know. Who else would I call?"

  "And since there's no apparating in and out of this resort without setting off alarm bells, I had my husband distract Marlow away from the ballroom, and I took on her appearance and headed up to the suite."

  "How did you get Marlow's DNA?"

  Brita smiled. "I kissed the witch." When my mouth dropped open. She laughed. "I didn't like it," she said. "Yuck, that woman has a thing for wintergreen mints. So gross."

  "And you're okay with your husband going off alone with Marlow? You know she's a horn dog, right?"

  Brita laughed as she absently patted her unruly hair. "I may have put a tiny-teensy curse on her. If she as much as gets even a little bit inappropriate with my guy, she will wretch her guts up."

  "You didn't?" I said, scandalously.

  She nodded, her smile evilly gleeful. "Vomitus Eroticus."

  "You know that dirty witch is heaving over a ditch right now, don't you?"

  We both burst out laughing.

  "Let's figure out what's going on with your hex before Marlow figures out hers. Where's the bottle?"

  "It's on the nightstand," Monty said.