Wicked by Any Other Name (18 page)

“I'm the one with a temper. Blair's the one who believes in exacting revenge. Thea's happiest when her fans tell her how much they love her books. Lili is the absolute best healer in the universe. Maggie's happiest when she kicks ass. And then there's you, Stasi. You have the largest, kindest heart in this universe, and you give Cupid a run for his money because you believe everyone has a perfect match. How many times have you been called before the Witches' Council since we were expelled from the academy? Four, five? Compared to the countless times we others have been called? And your time was only increased because you did what you felt was right. But this time you interfered with a human's well-being. You messed with her love life in a way even Cupid wouldn't have done.”

Stasi's expression turned to stone. “You know what? I'm tired of explaining myself and defending myself. Perhaps Carrie should do some soul searching and not worry about what might or might not have been in the sachet I put in her bag.”

“Do you mean this sachet?”

“Oh shit,” Jazz muttered, looking over her shoulder at the dark-visaged man standing in the doorway. There was no look of the clean-cut wizard lawyer now. This was a man who was furious and wanted everyone to know it, judging by the energy that blasted around him like a nuclear explosion. Even Jazz knew enough to stay quiet.

Stasi didn't move from her spot as Trev walked inside holding a familiar pink silk heart-shaped sachet edged with cream lace. To anyone else, it smelled like lavender. The expression on Jazz's face and the fury on Trev's told her that both could smell the slight difference in it.

“Carrie sent this over to me a little while ago,” Trev said, bearing down on Stasi, who, to her credit, didn't budge an inch. “She was afraid it was hexed and hoped I could tell if it was safe. She had decided to cut up all the sachets you'd put in her bags, but for some reason she couldn't cut up this one.” He slammed the silk bag down on the counter. “Guess why? I'm amazed you didn't arrange for this one to somehow end up missing or destroyed.”

“Out,” Nick snapped.

“Good idea. Leave, wizard, until she has her lawyer with her,” Jazz agreed, then muttered, “Those red hearts can be totally irritating, can't they?”

Nick walked over and grabbed Jazz's arm. “I meant us.”

“But—!” she sputtered as he dragged her out of the shop.

Trev took several deep breaths, but his anger wasn't easily handled. “What were you thinking, Stasi? This is all the proof she needs to show you interfered with her marriage. All I had to do was pick this up and I could feel what you had put into it—and it wasn't a simple feel-good-about-yourself spell like the other sachets have.”

“Obviously you didn't go beyond the external layer,” she said, amazed her voice could remain even. She had seen Trev smile, seen him laugh, seen his face taut with desire. But she had never seen him furious the way he was now. “There is nothing there that would harm her. Only reveal what she truly is.”

Inside, she was a quivering mass and wanted nothing more than to curl up somewhere and burst into tears. She refused to show any of that to him or even hint that her emotions were on overload.

Trev's jaw could have doubled as granite as he pushed his face into hers. “It is still
wrong.
” She didn't blink. He muttered a few choice curses under his breath as he leaned back. “Do you realize what can happen to you in Wizards' Court? How this transgression alone can warrant having your powers stripped from you?”

“Do you realize what it's like to see a man who used to smile all the time, who truly loved life, turn sad and despondent? A man who after eight months of marriage looked as if he'd aged ten years?” she said softly. “Kevin Anderson is a good man. A genuinely nice man. All he wanted was a loving home and family, and Carrie took all his dreams away from him.”

“He's an adult. He had to have known what he was getting into when he married her,” he argued.

She shook her head. “Kevin is the kind of guy who looks for the good in everyone, and he wanted to be a father in the worst way. Carrie can be very sweet and persuasive when she chooses to be. Most men aren't looking for a readymade family and steer away from women with children. Kevin was the perfect victim. He wanted a family and she had one. He didn't listen to anything anyone said because he was positive he was what Carrie needed.”

“He didn't need to marry a woman with children to have a family.”

“Unfortunately, he did. He had the mumps when he was in college. He became sterile as a result,” Stasi murmured.

Trev looked down at the sachet on the counter. “I need to take this to the court.”

She licked her lips, which felt dry. No wonder, with the icy cold air still coming into the shop.

“I understand. Jazz said she has a lawyer for me. Ask her for his name and anything else can be handled through him, just as you wished in the beginning.”

When he looked up his eyes flared with energy and desire so strong, it rocked Stasi back on her heels. She had no warning when he reached out and gripped the back of her head with his hand and brought her toward him.

She already knew the man could kiss and did it very well, but until then she'd never experienced a kiss that literally took her breath away.

His tongue swept through her mouth, leaving behind the taste of his anger. His hold was firm, but she knew if she stepped back he would release her. He was furious with her, but he wouldn't hurt her. She allowed her fingertips to touch his arms and feel the warmth of his body through his jacket. She tipped her head back, allowing his tongue to slide down the curve of her neck and nip her skin.

“You are the most exasperating woman I've ever met,” he muttered against her throat.

She smiled. “I'm a witch.”

“In more ways than one.” He looked up and drew back a space. He kept his hand cradling her neck while his thumb stroked the corner of her mouth. “I want to help you.”

“You're the opposition, Trev. Jazz found an attorney to help me. You told me in the beginning I needed an attorney to protect my interests. You're right. I do.” She kept her voice gentle. Not that there was any reason to be angry with him. She realized sadly that she was even getting used to the red hearts that refused to leave either of them. She could see their reflections in the remains of a mirror still hanging on a nearby wall. Trev was showered, well-groomed, and smelled very nice indeed, while she looked like something left out on trash day. She hadn't given much thought to her appearance that morning. Her sun-kissed locks still hung in a tangle and her coral pink sweater bore stains from her morning's work. She didn't need to look down at her jeans to see they were in the same disreputable condition. And yet, the reflections in the mirror, dancing red hearts and all, were of two people who looked right together.

“I'm going to find a way.”

His words surprised her. “I know you have to use what Carrie gave you and I understand. I can't hate you for doing your job.”

He pushed away from the counter. “Good thing, because the last thing I feel for you is hate.” He walked out without looking back.

Once Stasi recovered, she noticed the sachet still lay on the counter, but this time the fabric was burned black and the spell was eradicated. She tentatively touched it with her fingertips, afraid the charred silk would flare up.

And then she cried.

“I need to get more boards, then I'll finish covering the windows,” Jake told Stasi, tactfully not commenting on her tear-stained face or red eyes.

She nodded, thankful for his discretion. “Thanks. Once that's done, I'll get out of here.” Jake went out and she looked around the empty shop, her mind in turmoil.

She set Horace near her bank bag, which lay on the counter along with a box of her bookkeeping records. After today she wasn't leaving anything irreplaceable in the shop. She assumed her laptop had been spared damage only because she and her friends had come downstairs so fast.

Even with her office unharmed, she couldn't go back there, especially when she was alone. She had shooed Blair out of the store after her place was boarded up. She wanted a little time alone. She wanted to figure out why this was happening. What the trigger was.

Besides Carrie's out-of control hatred and lust for revenge.

Instead of perching on her stool, Stasi hiked herself up on the counter and sat cross-legged, facing the broken windows. She noticed people were only walking on the sidewalk across the street, and they barely glanced over, then hurried on.

She sighed. “It's as if we have the cross for plague painted on the front.”

“You're not going to cry again, are you?” Horace asked. “No offense, but I don't do well with tears.”

Stasi smiled and hiccupped. Then she almost did cry when she saw that the bubble wasn't its usual iridescent color, but held hints of red and black.

“Oh stars, you're in bad shape,” Horace groaned.

“You're not being helpful.” She sniffed, digging through her pockets for a handkerchief and coming up with zip. Out of habit, she looked around, but there wasn't anything that would help, so she did the unthinkable and rubbed her nose with her sleeve.

“I still say we move.”

“And I say no. We won't run away.” She knew she could speak for Blair because the sharp-tongued witch wasn't one to run from a fight either.

“And here we thought the lawsuit was the worst of it.” Horace picked his fangs with his claws.

Stasi had no warning until she felt a sharp sting across her cheek and forehead. She fell off the counter to the floor and lay there stunned as pain radiated throughout her face.

***

“What the hell?” The next thing Stasi knew, Trev was there, kneeling beside her. She moaned as he carefully eased her up into a sitting position. He pulled a white handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at her face.

“What happened?” Blair and Jazz were there within seconds and both crouched beside her.

“Something hit her,” Trev said grimly.

“I'll go upstairs and get a healing poultice.” Blair stood up.

Trev frowned as he lifted the handkerchief, now splotched with red. “Don't you heal instantly?”

“Part of our banishment is that we heal like humans.” Stasi closed her eyes against the sharp pain crossing her forehead. She lifted her hand to touch it, but Trev gently pushed it back down. “We have healing poultices and our broken bones might knit faster than others, but it's not made easy for us.” She suddenly covered her mouth with her hand as a wave of nausea swept over her.

Jazz swiftly found a bucket and set it within reach.

“That blow was hard enough to cause a concussion.” Jazz went in the back and brought out a bottle of water so Stasi could rinse out her mouth.

“Please, I'm embarrassed enough as it is!
Hic!
” As before, the bubble was a tainted color.

“What the hell?” Jake walked in carrying a load of boards.

“Did you see anyone nearby?” Trev asked.

He shook his head. “I came around from the back.” He stooped down and picked up one of the stones that had struck Stasi. He held it up, one of the edges red with blood. Stasi felt her stomach start to heave again. “Someone took the time to sharpen this stone. This has gone too far,” he rumbled. A low growl traveled up his throat.

“Wow, I am so impressed,” Blair said. “My growls usually sound like a sick cat. How do you do that?”

He continued to study the stone and left the store with it in his hand. They could see him stop on the sidewalk and lift his face as if searching for a scent in the air before he moved on.

Trev still dabbed gently at the wounds. “Those cuts are deep. You need stitches.”

“I need my bed,” she said, feeling that woozy sensation come on again. When Trev helped her to her feet, she immediately started to wobble. He muttered under his breath and swept her up into his arms.

“You need to see a healer,” he corrected. “No matter what, the local doctor should treat you.”

She closed her eyes to stop the world from whirling around her. “No. Just my bed and one of Blair's healing poultices. Lili, our healer, can tell her what to do.” She swallowed. “Please.”

Her soft plea was Trev's undoing. He carried her out of the store and walked around the corner to the stairs, taking them so smoothly Stasi wasn't jostled even a hint.

He headed unerringly to her bedroom and gently placed her on the bed.

Blair placed Horace and the moneybag on Stasi's dresser.

“You could dress this place up some with mirrors on the ceiling,” Horace commented, craning his neck. “Hey!” He fought the cloth that Jazz dropped over him along with a gargoyle-sized freeze spell. “Unfair!”

“I'll make some tea.” Blair headed for the kitchen.

“Out.” Jazz stared at Trev.

He opened his mouth to protest but before he could say anything he was magickally pushed out of the room and the door closed after him.

“I'd laugh, but I think it would hurt too much,” Stasi whimpered.

“Then don't.” Jazz was as gentle as possible as she extracted Stasi from her clothing and put her in a nightgown, carefully arranging the covers around her.

“Your wizard is sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea, Bogie's chewing on his boot laces, and Fluff and Puff each have a licorice root to keep them occupied,” Blair announced a moment later, coming in holding a mug and two small herb-scented cloths. “I was able to get Lili on wallmail and she suggested this. She said if the cuts on your forehead and cheek aren't too deep and wide, we could use a butterfly bandage to close them up.” She gently affixed one warm cloth on Stasi's forehead and used something to attach the other to her cheek.

“Didn't we do something similar for Jazz not all that long ago?” Stasi inhaled the soothing fumes from the mug and carefully sipped the hot liquid.

“At least you still have your power.” Jazz sat on the end of the bed, leaning against the footboard.

“Yeah, yeah, forty-eight hours of hell, you eating your weight in See's chocolates, moaning and groaning your life was over,” Blair teased.

“If I didn't know any better I'd say this town was cursed.” Jazz pulled the chopsticks out of her hair, allowing the copper-red waves to tumble down. She twisted them back up and stuck the chopsticks back in. “How many years have you two lived here without any trouble? Even after the longtime residents knew the truth, they left you alone; in fact, you've made friends with them. I don't think Carrie's current angst should have been enough to infect the town to this extent. So what has happened to cause the problems and who's really behind it?”

Blair sat up. “A curse I can understand, but
why?
”

Stasi yawned. “I'm sorry. I love you both, but between the early wake-up call and everything going on today, I'd like nothing more than to take a nap.”

“Good idea.” The two witches got up and left, closing the door after them and ignoring Horace's plaintive “I don't get uncovered?”

Jazz headed for the freshly made coffee the minute she entered the kitchen. “You do know that your
client,
” she made the word sound like the vilest of curses, “has been out to make as much trouble as she can for Stasi and Blair and it looks like she's having unprecedented success.”

Trev sat sprawled in the chair, a half-filled cup in front of him. Jazz took pity on him and topped it off before she dropped into the chair across from him. Irma drifted in with Sirius close by. She leaned against the counter. The cigarette between her fingers disappeared the moment Jazz shot her a look of warning.

“I went down and took a peek at the stores. It looks like a war zone down there. Who would do such a terrible thing?” Irma asked.

“That's what we'd like to know.” Blair sighed.

“The lawsuit hasn't turned out to be what I thought it was,” Trev admitted with a weary sigh. “Maybe she had provocation, but I'm sure Carrie has been lying.”

“Ya think?” Blair snorted. “Drop the bitch. I'd say hand her over to the Wizards' Court, but since she's human they won't do anything to her. I still say she started all this and it's a crime in our community. She needs to pay.”

“It's not that easy. Due to our Code I can't drop a client.”

“I'd say vandalism, taking the law into your own hands, and inciting the public to riot are excellent reasons no matter what your Code says.” Jazz drummed her fingernails on the table.

“But none of that is proven.”

They looked up when the door opened and Nick and Jake walked in.

“I ran into Nick and asked him to help me track whoever threw the stones, but we couldn't find anything,” Jake announced. “We've got all the windows and doors boarded up and he made sure no one can get in the back doors.

“I can't believe you lost them. You're an excellent tracker,” Jazz said.

“Something was masking the trail.” Nick growled, pouring coffee for himself and for Jake. “How is Stasi?”

“I wallmailed Lili and she told me what to use,” Blair replied. The witches had their own system of communicating by means of magickal letters that could show up on a wall anywhere in the world, no computer required. Very convenient. “Stasi's sleeping now and I'll check on her in a little while.”

Trev silently stared at his cup, idly rubbing his finger around the rim.

“Those red hearts over both your heads aren't just one of Cupid's pranks, are they?” Blair said softly. “You have feelings for Stasi.”

“She told me that witches and wizards don't mix,” he murmured. “And it was easy for me to believe her. Something isn't right in this town. The taint needs to be found and eradicated.”

“I don't know what you learned in wizard's law school, but you can't destroy any kind of taint without knowing the source.”

“There is a place that can help us.” Stasi stood in the doorway.

Trev jumped up and ran over to support her. He took her mug of tea out of her hand and helped her to his chair.

“I couldn't sleep after all,” she admitted. “Trev's right. Perhaps we don't know who's behind this, but that doesn't mean we can't do some research on how to end it.”

Jazz had a sick look on her face. “Please don't tell me you're saying what I think you're saying, because research means…”

Stasi nodded. “The Library.”

Jazz dropped her head to the table. “No. No, no, no, no.”

“You don't have to go.”

“The town doesn't have a library,” Jake put in.

Stasi shook her head. “The Library—and you have to capitalize it—is magickal. It holds every magick reference known to our kind and even more that we don't know about.”

“It's a terrible place filled with bats, monster spiders, big snakes, and beetles and Fates know what else.” Jazz made a face. “Along with a horrible wizard in charge.”

“The Librarian doesn't like Jazz,” Blair explained.

“That's an understatement,” Jazz mumbled. “But then, I'm not too fond of him either.”

“Perhaps he'd be nicer to you if you returned your books on time and you weren't so rude to him,” Nick suggested.

She uttered a low snarl. “Get staked.”

“So you think this library can tell you what's going on around here?” Jake asked.

“Capital L no matter what,” Stasi reminded him.

He laughed. “You can tell I didn't think of it as a capital L?”

“We can tell,” Jazz said, getting up and beginning to forage for food. “And so can the prissy man who runs the place. If we don't show him proper respect we're banned for two or twenty or two hundred years.” She gazed into a near empty kitchen cabinet and looked over her shoulder.

“We haven't had time to shop lately. I'll go to Grady's and pick up barbecue for us.” Blair pushed back her chair and retrieved her coat from the coat rack.

“I'll go with you,” Jake offered, pulling his heavy coat back on. “I don't think any of you should be out alone until this is settled.”

For once Blair didn't disagree. She left with Jake in tow.

Nick straightened up. “Letiticia sent me a message. She said the roads are blocked due to heavy snowfall and she and Krebs can't get back. They're going to stay at the resort.”

“The roads are never blocked for long, although they may not get plowed until morning,” Stasi said.

He shook his head. “Letiticia senses something unnatural at work there also. As if they're being kept away from here.” He got up and walked over to the window, pulling aside the café curtains. All they could see was a veil of white. “It looks like a record snowfall.”

“And early in the season, too.” Stasi looked worried. “We haven't had so much snow this early for at least fifteen years. Poor Blair will freeze out there.”

Jazz picked up Stasi's mug and warmed it up in the microwave.

“We need to check the lake.”

“Not until after you eat,” Nick said. “In fact, it would be better if I went than you. Even Irma would be better.”

“If you think I'm going out in that blizzard, guess again, Nicky,” the ghost argued. “My arthritis has never liked cold weather.”