50 Ways to Hex Your Lover (27 page)

Cocooned in the dark confines of the front seat, she turned to Nick.

“You did it, Jazz,” he said softly. “You dug deep within your power and you brought forth the one who had the power to destroy
Clive.”

“I did, didn’t I?” She grinned, proud of her accomplishment in bringing down the enemy. She released a weary sigh and rested
her head against the headrest with her face turned toward him.

“You do good work, love.” He leaned over and cradled her face with his hands, covering her mouth with his.

Jazz slipped her tongue inside, tangling it with his while she pulled at the lapels of his tuxedo jacket. She was tempted
to just end the spell, but she liked the idea of stripping him. Nick pulled the front of her gown down, baring a breast.Amuted
growl left his lips as he gently touched the purple bruises marring her skin.

“One of Lilibet’s poultices will take care of that,” she whispered.

But Nick had a different idea. He trailed his lips along the rounded flesh, soothing the lingering pain.

“I wanted to tear his throat out when I saw him do that,” he murmured against her skin. “Rip him to shreds when he slapped
you.”

“I wanted to tear his throat out when he started taking your blood.” She cradled his head against her breast, stroking his
hair. Needing more, she pulled his face up to hers.

With their adrenaline running high, kisses weren’t enough.

“If we don’t get out of here soon, Detective Larkin will decide to check on us,” Nick muttered, circling her ear with his
tongue. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t fancy the idea of spending the rest of the night in jail with a charge of indecent
exposure hanging over my head.”

She nodded. “Ditto.” She cranked the engine.

Nick looked over his shoulder at the lowered privacy screen, detecting a lingering fetid odor. “What do you think happened
to Foulshadow?”

“Who knows? But I intend to find a way to make sure he never betrays someone again.” She guided the limo down the driveway.

“Is Krebs home?” Nick stroked the length of her thigh.

“Yes.”

“My place, then.”

Jazz smiled and pressed down on the accelerator.

With a little witchy magick it was easy to literally blow through red lights and make it to the boardwalk in record time.
Jazz parked in the lot and followed Nick around to the rear of the building and downstairs to his lair.

He didn’t bother turning on lights and she remained on his heels.

Once her eyes adjusted to the dark, she noted a neatly designed apartment with an open design. But she noticed the large bed
the most. No coffin for this vampire.

“How—” anything else was cut off as Nick spun her around and kissed her deeply. She jumped up, wrapping her legs around his
hips. She laughed as her labia brushed against his erection.

“I could have cancelled the illusion spell earlier, but it was more fun to wait,” she said, rising up then lowering herself
onto his cock.

Nick widened his stance and pressed his palms against her hips, giving her the lead.

Jazz’s breath hitched in her chest as she stared at the shadows crossing his face.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered. “You lost so much blood back there.”

He rocked his hips against her, driving up into her. “Do I feel weak now?”

Jazz threw her head back and laughed. “We survived!”

“Yes, we did.” Hismouth took hers as she took him.

After a shower that continued what they had started the minute they arrived at his apartment, Jazz was ready to collapse into
bed. She felt Nick’s body curved against her back. She had barely closed her eyes when a dizzying sensation overtook her.
She snapped her eyes open and found herself wearing her lilac robe and standing in a familiar stone-walled hall. Women of
varied ages in robes of different colors sat behind the stone table. But it was the woman in emerald green who snared Jazz’s
attention.

Hope mingled with uncertainty filled her. A part of her wanted to point out she did it even without their help. But she didn’t
think this was the time to brag. Did her being brought here mean her banishment was to be lifted? And if that were the case,
what would happen to her? She already knew she couldn’t return to the life she had first been trained for. Too much had happened
over the past seven hundred years. She wasn’t the young witch she had been back then.

“I understand the Protectorate is very happy with your endeavors, young Griet,” Eurydice spoke. “You righted many wrongs this
night.”

“I am sure the Protectorate is only happy that their kind is no longer in danger from Clive Reeves,” Jazz replied, ever cautious.
Since the members of the Witches’ High Council didn’t look all that ecstatic or even invite her to sit, she had an idea that
saving the vampires somehow managed to land her in trouble … again. She decided to test her theory with a positive spin. “I
hope you are also pleased that Clive Reeves has finally received the judgment he deserves.”

The elder witch’s faint smile wasn’t the least bit comforting. “I said the Protectorate was pleased. Not that
we
were.”

“Excuse me?”

“Did you think we would end your banishment just because you claim to have destroyed Clive Reeves?” Eurydice asked.

“Uh, yeah. Yes,” she quickly amended. “I realize a life was destroyed, but it was a life not worthy of continuation. He did
not deserve to live considering what he had been doing for so many years. By taking his life, many others were released from
their earthly bonds. And it’s not like I killed an innocent. In fact, if you want to get technical, I had killed him more
than seventy years ago even if he managed to find a way to transfer his life force into another body at the moment of his
death. So I only corrected that mistake.”

“Do not be smart-mouthed with us,” Kabira, the powerful, who sat on Eurydice’s left, snapped. “You are an arrogant witch who
still has not learned her place. Did you honestly expect us to lift your banishment and welcome you back to our ranks just
because you finally cleaned up your own mess?” Her smile was as tight and prissy as The Librarian’s. “Besides, what proof
do you have that you were successful? The house is nothing more than a memory, the property devoid of any evidence of what
went on there. Not to mention Mother Nature was not the least bit happy that you brought down lightning. She plans to deal
with you later on that matter.”

“From what you said, the Protectorate seems to have no trouble believing it,” Jazz argued, at this point past caring what
happened to her. “The shades killed him and freed themselves. The house buckled under the loss of Clive Reeves’ magick and
I plan to go out there to cleanse the property of any of his power lingering there. Done deed!”

Eurydice looked at each of her companions, nodding several times as if their conversation was all done on a mental plain.
She turned back to Jazz.

“If you remain out of trouble,” she sounded doubtful about that, “we will review the situation again in one hundred years.”

Jazz’s jaw dropped. “One hundred years? Wait—” Just that fast she was back in bed with Nick.

She rolled over with the intention of waking him then realized there was no sense in it.

The sun had risen and after their tumultuous night and Nick losing blood, she knew he needed to rest in order to regain his
full strength. For now, he was beyond rousing.

Instead, she slipped out of bed and watched his still figure while she rummaged through his clothing and pulled out a t-shirt
and a pair of shorts she hoped wouldn’t fall down before she got home.

Thanks to her being called before the Witches’ High Council she wasn’t in the best of moods. As it was, she still had collateral
damage—aka the limo—to deal with. She had a pretty good idea Dweezil was going to be hopping mad once he saw it. But that
would be minor once he learned he had lost Foulshadow as his prized client. One way or another, Jazz intended to find that
putrid and treacherous creature and make him pay for what he’d done.

Including Irma.

Krebs was carrying a mug of coffee out of the kitchen when Jazz crept in the back door after a quick trip to swap the limo
for her T-Bird. But Irma wasn’t in the car.

“Whoa, that fashion statement is definitely not you.”

“No kidding.” She plucked the mug out of his hand and drank deeply. “Thank you.” She cradled the mug against her chest as
she headed for the stairs.

“Any chance you’re going to tell me what happened?” Krebs called after her.

“No,” she called back, climbing the stairs.

“Would it have anything to do with a famous horror actor’s mansion burning down last night?”

She stopped on the fifth step. “The only fire I like is the one on the stove or in a fireplace.” She continued up the stairs
where she took a long hot shower and then dressed in her own clothing. She picked up the t-shirt, pressing the soft fabric
to her nose. She imagined she could smell Nick’s scent on the cloth even though it was clean. She carefully folded the clothing
and left it on her bed.

As she descended the stairs, she heard Billy Joel crooning from the second floor.

“Wonder who caught his attention now?” she murmured, dancing down the rest of the way and stopping in the kitchen long enough
to refill her coffee mug before she went outside. The moment she stepped outside she heard a pounding beat coming from the
carriage house. Queen singing
We
Will Rock You
was accompanied by a reedy very off-key voice.

“Irma’s alive…er, around?” she said with a sense of wonder and hastened her steps.

When she stepped inside the carriage house, she found Irma standing on the passenger seat swiveling her hips in a way that
no woman her age should ever do.

“Now that’s just nasty.” Jazz stared in horrified fascination.

When the ghost turned around, Irma opened her eyes and smiled broadly.

“We did it, Jazz! You found a way for me to leave the car!” she squealed.

Hip-swinging with squealing was definitely not a good look for Irma. But Jazz would keep that piece of information to herself.

“You did great, Irma,” she said, smiling back, lifting her coffee mug in a toast. “You were the only one who could have accomplished
it.”

“I still don’t understand how that was possible,” the ghost said.

“It’s simple. Clive was afraid of the wraiths wandering his grounds because he knew how much they hated him. They were doomed
to stay there until his death, but he’d ensured they couldn’t cross the mansion’s threshold to kill him. Because you weren’t
one of his victims, you could cross the threshold and be the means to destroy him. You were the last thing he expected and
it was perfect.”

Irma’s grin mirrored Jazz’s. “Then I’m glad I could be of help. Is Nicky all right?” she asked, floating back to her usual
seated position. “He looked a little worse for the wear last night. Although, I must say he’s a
fine
figure of a man.”

“He’s recovered,” she said, remembering just how well recovered. “And a good day’s rest will finish the job.” She walked over
to the chair Nick had sat in the night they watched
Arsenic and Old
Lace
with Irma. “We really couldn’t have done it without you.” She knew it was taking a chance admitting that to the ghost, but
she figured Irma deserved the kudos.

Irma beamed under her praise. “And I left the car too.” Her smile faltered. “Those ghosts killed him, didn’t they?”

“Yes, they did,” Jazz said gently. While she was too familiar with death, she sensed Irma, even in death, was not familiar
with it, especially not violent death. “He deserved it, Irma. He had taken what was left of their existences and he would
have continued doing it to others if we hadn’t stopped him.”

“Oh, I don’t feel guilty he’s dead,” Irma said. “I just wish I hadn’t been sent back here. I think I was ready to move on.”
She made a face as she slapped the dashboard with her gloved palm. “So I guess you better get working on a spell to get me
out of here permanently.”

Jazz toyed with the idea of not telling her, but if Irma found out on her own, there would be hell to pay. “Actually, you’re
free of the car. You can go anywhere you want.”