Hex Appeal (27 page)

“Oh, I was paid and she's heard enough gossip to know not to stop payment on the check. Besides, I figured out how she could end the spell. That took work.”

“If you truly wanted to work you'd find a way that I could have food and drink. I do miss my pink squirrels and brandy Alexanders.” Irma looked about as forlorn as a ghost who'd been dead for the last fifty years could look.

“You can change your looks and hair. Isn't that enough? You're not Pinocchio, Irma. I can't make you into a real woman. No matter what, you're still dead. There are some things you can't do.” There were times she hated being so blunt, but she felt it had to be done. And this was one of those times. Not to mention she didn't want cracker crumbs everywhere. Plus, then she'd probably want the dog to have the ability to scarf down his share of real Milkbones.

“No kidding. Although, you'd think there would be some kind of dating service for us.”

A lit Lucky Strike appeared between Irma's fingers then disappeared when Jazz uttered a warning growl.

“There's a dating service for vampires, so why not for us? I'm sure I'm not the only ghost wandering around,” Irma went on.

A dating world for the living challenged. Oh no. Next thing Jazz knew Irma would be talking about sex and Jazz would have to claw her eyes out to keep the images from bombarding her brain.

“Be happy with what you've got, which is a hell of a lot more than you had six months ago. You even have a dog now. If you want to do something then do something for him. Give him a name!”

“He hasn't told me what his name is yet,” Irma said primly. “It's not like he came with a collar and name tag.”

“In a sense he has a new life now. Maybe he wants a new name to go with it. Find out what he wants to be called.”

“Good idea.” Irma appeared lost in thought as Jazz exited the mountain road.

Jazz slowed the car as she spied an official looking vehicle parked at the Full Moon Café and then confirmation of what shouldn't be inside the restaurant, but somehow was. She made a quick and very illegal U-turn, and headed back to the diner's parking lot. She parked next to the car that caught her attention.

“Why does it smell like wet dog around here?” Irma wrinkled her nose.

“That's nothing new to us thanks to your new pet.” Jazz climbed out of the car.

“We should have brought the dog.” The ghost looked around with a worried frown.

“Trust me, even dead, he wouldn't like it here.” She walked to the entrance.

When Jazz stepped inside she heard the pounding sounds of Steppenwolf's
Born to be Wild
coming from the jukebox and a stocky man wearing a rumpled suit seated at the counter nursing a cup of coffee. Coby stood at the other end, staring at his customer with his usual flat black stare. The other man looked up at Jazz.

“Hey, it's Jazz the witch,” Detective Larkin grinned. “What're you doing here?”

Jazz's gaze flipped to Coby, who wasn't saying a word, then back to the sheriff's detective. “More to the point, what are
you
doing here?”

“Having a cup of coffee.” He gestured to the cup in front of him along with a plate with a half-eaten apple pie slice on it. “Can we have another cup for the lady?”

“She's no lady,” Coby growled, literally, as he reached for a mug and filled it.

Jazz had encountered the detective when Dweezil was framed by Mindy and the authorities almost seized his business. While the man knew magick and supernatural creatures were around, he preferred to ignore the fact. Jazz showed him it was better not to disregard anything unusual.

She took a seat at the counter, murmuring her thanks for the coffee.

“Didn't you feel anything when you came in here?” she asked in a low voice.

The detective shrugged. “Like what? It's getting late and I wanted a caffeine fix. The place was open and it looks clean. Okay, I felt a little odd when I got out of my car, but like I said, I needed some caffeine. It's been a bitch of a day. How about you? Doing your witchy thing? Oh, want some pie to go with that coffee? It's pretty good.”

Jazz looked at Coby instead. “Your wards are strong. I could feel them, so that's not it. And he's never been here before?” Coby settled for a quick jerk of the head.

Detective Larkin looked from one to the other. “What's going on here?” He shifted his arm so that his jacket lapel rolled back revealing his weapon.

“Forget that.” Jazz flicked her fingers so that the jacket closed up again. “It wouldn't work here anyway.”

“He didn't hesitate outside and just walked in,” Coby finally said. “This isn't good for business. They'll smell him from a mile away.”

“You have something against cops?” Larkin was now the steely-eyed lawman.

“Okay guys, no bumping up the testosterone count.” Jazz put her hands up in a “stop it” motion. “This is more your thing than mine,” she told Coby. “Why can't you explain it to him?”

“It looks like you know him. You do it.” He placed a slice of pie in front of her and walked away.

“What the fuck is his problem?” Detective Larkin glared at Coby's retreating back.

Jazz forked up a bite of pie and almost groaned in bliss. Someone knew how to make great apple pie. She took another quick bite and set down her fork.

“Remember our talk about witches and vampires?”

“Yeah, that they're more real than I'd like to think. You proved that at Clive Reeves' house when you blew it up.”

“I didn't destroy the mansion. Magick did that.” She took a drink of her coffee and found it as dark and strong as she had the last time. “There's a lot more out there than witches and vampires and trolls and ogres and pixies.”

“Okay, okay.” He held up his hand. “Just spit it out.”

“Your word skills are atrocious. Here's the deal. The Full Moon Café is aptly named because the main patrons here have a special ritual during the full moon.” She waited for realization to kick in. Instead, she got a blank look. “Full moon. Ultra hairy. Big teeth. Don't you ever watch horror movies?”

“I'm more into sci-fi. I've seen
The Day the Earth Stood Still
hundreds of times.”

Jazz exhaled a deep breath. “Werewolf.” A growl erupted from the kitchen. “If you don't like the way I explained it, you should have done it yourself! Besides, it's not my fault he got past the wards.”

“Werewolves, yeah,” Detective Larkin snorted. “That's what my wife turns into every twenty-eight days.” He laughed at his own joke. “Witches, okay. Vampires, I'm still working on, but Werewolves are a bit much. No way.”

“Big way.” She raised her voice even though she knew it wasn't necessary. “Coby, you have to come out here and convince the man.”

“I'm not some pet you can trot out to show off to the neighbors,” Coby muttered, walking out of the kitchen.

“I came in here out of the goodness of my heart,” she ignored the snorts from both men. Terrific, now they bond! “so I could make sure that everything was okay and I even try to explain to the detective why he shouldn't be here and all I get is crap.”

Detective Larkin looked at Coby as the man placed his hands on the counter. “Fuck!” He almost fell off the stool as Coby's facial bones shifted and lengthened to a snout, his eyes changing to an eerie yellow while his canines lengthened, and fur sprouted along the back of his hands. Larkin stared wide-eyed at the man whose face was now more wolf than human. He jerked around to Jazz. “What's next?”

“This café is considered neutral territory. Consider it Switzerland for all creatures if they need it, but it's mostly a hangout for the Weres,” she explained. “The café is also heavily warded against humans. If any human stops here, they get an unsettling sensation and move on. Except for you.” She glanced at Coby who'd returned to his human façade. “There has to be some Were-blood in him, no matter how diluted.”

“I don't sense any,” Coby muttered, still uneasy at the uninvited presence.

“Were you ever bitten by an animal?” she asked the detective. “Maybe when you were a child.”

“Trust me, I'd know if I ever changed into a hairy beast under a full moon,” he grumbled.

“Work with me here,” Jazz urged.

“Yeah,” he said reluctantly. “My grandma's dog bit me when I was six. I hated that little monster after that. No offense,” he said to Coby.

“What kind of dog?”

“Pekinese. Grandma loved that ball of fur. He showed up on her doorstep one night and she took him in.”

Jazz and Coby exchanged glances. “Could be,” Coby said. “A blood test would prove it. I've heard of Weres in that species, but we don't see too many. There were rogues among the small breed some years ago.”

Larkin started to back away a few steps until Jazz froze him with a flick of her fingers.

“No running out now,” she said. “It would be a good idea for you to find out.”

“You're saying my kids could become...dogs?” He looked so horrified that Jazz wanted to laugh.

“It sounds like you only got a trace of his saliva in your blood, and it could have remained dormant all these years. Maybe your being around supernatural creatures more brought it out. Just let Coby take a small sample of your blood and we can find out. And I'll unfreeze you if you promise not to run away.”

He looked horrified at the idea. “But what if I'm what you said I am? A damn Pekinese?”

“Honestly, Larkin, all that's happened is that you entered a Were establishment when you shouldn't have been able to. That means you have a form of magick in your blood and it sounds like a tiny drop of Were-blood. With all the magick flying around L.A. it's no wonder your dormant Were-blood was activated.”

“My life was perfectly sane until I met you.” He glared at Jazz.

She pooh-poohed his statement. “Come on, admit it, your life was downright boring until I showed up.”

“Just get the blood sample, Jazz,” Coby ordered, holding out a small vial and sealed packet with a syringe.

“I'm not all that fond of blood. Whether it's mine or anyone else's.” She took the vial and packet between her fingertips

“Surprising considering who you hang around with.”

“I promise I won't hurt you,” Jazz told the detective.

“Fine, I do need to know.” He took the items from her. “My kid's diabetic. I probably can do it better than you can. What about an alcohol swab?”

“Weres don't catch diseases and I bet you've never even had a cold,” Coby said in a flat voice that matched his eyes.

“I was the only kid in my class with a perfect attendance record,” he muttered, efficiently drawing his blood then handing the vial to Jazz who took it with her usual girly distaste. She quickly handed it off to Coby.

“Wait here.” He disappeared into a back room.

Detective Larkin shook his head. “You're telling me stuff that I only knew from fairy tales and horror movies.”

“Funny you would use that comparison,” she muttered, returning to her coffee and pie just as the detective did. “I know this is information overload for you while we've all lived with it for years.”

“How many years?” He sipped his coffee.

“Enough.” She wondered what it was with men and needing to know a woman's age. But then she spent a lot of time with men who wouldn't see 300 again.

“He has enough Pekinese in him to allow him past the wards,” Coby announced, returning to the dining area. “Your pups won't be affected, because it's not strong enough.”

“Pups, great.” He flushed at Coby's look. “Sorry. This is new for me. So what does this mean?”

“Nothing more than what you had before, other than you now know about us and I won't throw you out if you come in again,” Coby admitted. “We don't bother each other in here and no arrests are made. There's no human law here, Detective, only Were law. And I enforce that.”

“Does that mean her boss comes in here?” Larkin asked.

“Hell no.”

Jazz snorted a very unfeminine laugh. “Dweezil's choice of drink isn't caffeine.”

Larkin dryscrubbed his face. “All because my grandma's damn little yapper bit me.” He turned to Coby. “And I guess since you don't want your...lifestyle...getting out, I don't need to worry about this new hitch.”

“You don't.”

Jazz polished off her pie and finished her coffee. “What an evening. I go from dealing with a woman who's going to have to kiss probably a thousand frogs and slugs to get rid of them to finding out my favorite sheriff's detective is a Were.” She beamed.

“Kiss frogs?” He held up his hands. “All I wanted was a damn cup of coffee.”

“Come on, sit down.” She patted the stool next to her. “Coby can explain the Were community to you.” She disregarded the Were's glower.

By the time Detective Larkin, on information overload, left the café, Jazz's veins were happily humming from several cups of coffee.

“So what happened when you found Willie?” Coby cleared the counter of plates and cups, except for Jazz's.

“I'm sure Nick told you.”

“He did, but I'd like your opinion. He might have been a Wereweasel in the strict sense of the word, but he was still one of us.”

Jazz related the events starting with their arriving at the luxury hotel to the booby trapped doorknob that set off the explosion that killed Willie and ended with their visit to Rex's office to drop off the body.

“Knowing Rex he dropped Willie in the trash rather than hand him over to his pack leader,” Coby said. “Willie didn't tell you who set him up at the hotel?”

“He was pretty nervous about that, which has to mean it was someone with power.” She fiddled with her mug handle. “And I think it's tied in to me.”