Wicked By Any Other Name Part 15

"Then tell her, her best bet is to back off," Blair snapped.

"I'm not the enemy here." He looked at Stasi. "Or am I?"

She feared she was blushing and that everyone could sense the heat coming off her skin or see the hearts were doing more than pulsing with dazzling color. She kept few secrets from Blair, but she hadn't confessed her feelings about Trev, because they were still jumbled up and she needed time to sort them out.

"We're opponents," she said quietly. "The lake is our problem, Trev. I thank you for your help before, but we can take it from here." She forced herself to look coolly into his eyes, seeing the cobalt blaze flicker to life as he read the truth in her eyes.

She was rejecting him.

"You know I can help you," he spoke in a voice so low only she could hear him. "There is nothing Carrie can do about it, either."

She stilled the war going on in her stomach and her heart. "When it all comes down to it, you are the enemy, Trev. You're right. You need to protect your client's interests. And I need to protect mine."

"We all need to work together," Jake said.

"What's this 'we,' handyman?" Blair taunted. "What do you expect to do? Hammer good sense into Carrie's hard head?"

He grinned. "You'd be surprised what I can do, witchy woman. Come on, Trev." He moved off. "Remember what I said about Jazz and her accuracy with fireb.a.l.l.s?"

"It's not over," Trev murmured to Stasi.

"You're right, it's not, but that's only because we haven't gone to court yet." She swallowed the lump in her throat as she watched the two men walk away.

"When did they do the male bonding thing?" Blair asked.

"I don't know, and it worries me." Stasi looked back at the barrier. "I'm cold. Let's go back to the house."

"I can make a few calls and see if anyone has heard of this," Leticia offered during their return.

"That would be great, thank you." Stasi's reply sounded distracted as she thought of Trev and his reaction to her rejection. She knew it had to be done. She needed to put some distance between them. So why did it feel so wrong?

Chapter Twelve.

Stasi was positive the ear-splitting screech that filled the air shredded every nerve ending and shattered gla.s.s from here to Alaska. She jumped out of bed and threw on the jeans and sweater she'd discarded only a few hours earlier.

"That's Horace!" Blair ran out of her room while Jazz emerged from one of the guest rooms.

"He'd only do that if someone broke into the shop," Stasi said.

"We need to protect the others." Jazz's coppery red hair flew around her head in snarls as she muttered a few words, sealing the room Krebs and Leticia slept in along with her own room where Nick rested. The fact that her heavy forest-green wool sweater was inside out showed that she was still half asleep. She waved a hand to close her jeans while Fluff and Puff protested being awakened so early by her jamming her feet into them the minute she jumped out of bed.

"Nick will have your head for keeping him out of this," Blair told her as she watched the spell cover the door.

"I'd rather he not be out there until we know what's up," she said grimly. "He was in morning rest, but if Horace keeps it up he'll be awakened and fear the worst."

"What is that unearthly sound?" Irma demanded, popping up with the dog standing by her side.

"Go back to bed, Irma," Jazz ordered.

Stasi tasted the metallic flavor of fear in her mouth and heard a roaring in her head that had nothing to do with the intensity of Horace's screeches. "Someone's broken into the store." She ran for the back door and threw it open, practically flying down the stairs and running around to the front of the building. She would normally have gone through the rear door of the shop, but she knew she needed to see the front. She slid on the icy surface of the sidewalk, almost falling as she skidded to a stop and saw revealed in the early morning light what her intuition already knew.

She blinked back tears that froze to her eyelashes as she stared at the catastrophe that had once been her and Blair's shops. Frosty air blew through the broken windows covering the front of the building. Black paint had been splattered everywhere, showing flecks of ice as it froze to the wood. She could see obscene words spray painted on the walls inside and nothing of value had been left untouched. Even the weathered pine building showed deep gouges and slashes as if someone had gone after it with an axe.

"Oh no." For once Jazz was shocked enough only to whisper the two words, but without missing a beat she started to chant under her breath.

"No." Stasi's voice was a bare breath of air as she placed her hand on Jazz's arm, effectively stopping her before Jazz finished the spell that would pull the wrongdoers back to the scene of the crime. She knew Jazz and Blair would make mincemeat out of whoever had vandalized the two businesses, and right now she didn't want to see them. She started to teeter-totter back and forth, aware of a strange roaring in her head that left her feeling as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of her brain. Her blood had turned to ice and she feared no amount of heat could warm her. "Please." The word came out as a strangled sob.

"Honey, don't." Blair grabbed hold of her before she fell to the ground while Jazz caught her on the other side. She stared at the disaster in front of them with disbelieving eyes that also held a glimmer of tears. "I don't understand this. Why didn't our wards work? They've never failed us before. What had enough power to bypa.s.s them?"

"Having a problem?"

Stasi spun around to find Carrie standing on the other side of the street with a coffee to-go cup in one hand and a large bag from the bakery in the other. The woman's smirk was more than Stasi could take.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who sees you for what you are," she called out. Stasi started to step off the sidewalk.

"Don't, Stasi," Trev's voice rang out from nearby. He walked quickly toward her, standing in front of her before her second foot left the curb. "You'll only bring the wrath of the Wizards' Court down on you. It's not worth it."

"The Wizards' Court has nothing to do with me. You vindictive little-" Jazz stalked across the street. Blair was swift on her heels with equal fury blazing in her eyes.

Carrie held her stance even as she watched the two furious witches coming toward her. The air was thick with anger and their magick, their hair waving around their heads in the icy air, and multi-colored sparks flying about looking for a target, which just happened to be standing across the street from them. She realized she was their objective and almost lost her balance as she backed up a step, but she managed to save her footing in time.

"Are you proud of yourself, Carrie?" Blair gritted out, gesturing backwards toward the destroyed storefronts. Dark blue sparks shot from her fingertips and settled to the ground. "This isn't just vandalism, this is pure hatred and even if you didn't do this yourself, you know who did because you had to have been behind it!"

The woman lifted her chin, her lips narrow and colorless under a thin application of lipstick. "Why would I bother myself with your ugly little shops? I tell people not to buy there. That your merchandise is inferior."

Blair ignored this and closed in on Carrie, who took another step backward, avoiding the sparks. "But you seemed to have forgotten something. Stasi's the nice one. She's the one who dreams of romance and she doesn't believe in retaliation. I'm the one who's extremely gifted in the art of revenge. Or did you happen to forget what happened to Gina Carson's husband last year after he cheated on her and she wanted him to pay for that?"

Jazz stepped closer. "You've never been cursed, have you, Carrie? Never seen what can happen to someone who's been well and truly hexed." Her purr was soft and insidious as her moss-green eyes gleamed and her lips broadened in a daunting smile. "And the range of curses out there is truly amazing, if I do say so myself. Some curses are fairly mild, a nasty case of hives or projectile vomiting for a few days, or weeks, but then there are the unforgettable ones. I've seen curses where nasty-smelling pus oozes out of every pore in your body and there's no way to cure it. Or maggots cover every inch of your body and no matter what you do, they don't fall off. Or your skin literally peels itself away." The bunny slippers looked up and gnashed razor-sharp teeth that were rumored to have consumed their share of mortals.

"If you use a spell it will reflect on her," Carrie sneered, holding her ground.

Jazz took another step forward. "There's nothing that says I can't b.i.t.c.h slap you back to the Paleolithic period."

"Stop it, Jazz!" Stasi's voice snapped like a whip. Her power flew across the street ahead of her like a sheet of ice as she walked toward the three women. She didn't take her eyes off Carrie the entire time. "Leave us."

Blair arched an eyebrow and opened her mouth, ready to argue that she wasn't leaving her friend. Jazz merely smiled and pulled on Blair's arm. Amid Blair's muttered protests, the two women returned across the street to where Trev stood still, his face unreadable.

Stasi didn't say a word as she kept her eyes on Carrie.

"You can't touch me." Carrie's voice was full of false bravado. "Did you think I wouldn't find out you had a cozy dinner with my lawyer?"

"Be careful, Carrie, you're sounding like a jealous lover."

Carrie's face turned bright purple. "Everyone thinks you're this sweet little thing, but it's all fake, isn't it? You didn't think someone would stand up to you, did you? Did you f.u.c.k him in hopes he would convince me to drop the suit? No way that will happen. You ruined my marriage, and I want you to pay for it. And if you do anything to me, I'll make sure he brings you up on charges. You don't think I'm very smart, but I know enough about your kind of law that punishment would be a hundred times worse than anything my courts would do to you."

"I don't have to touch you, Carrie," Stasi said softly, but each word was steel coated and her eyes burned with an icy fury. "You're not worth any pain the Wizards' Court would hand out."

"You deserve to be ruined." Spittle flew out of Carrie's mouth. "And don't threaten me with your black spells. If anything happens to me or if Trevor says he's dropping me as a client, I'll find a lawyer who will make sure you're punished."

"I don't use baneful magick and I don't threaten. I only make promises and in all my years I have never broken a promise." Her stone-cold gaze bored into the woman. "Besides, you're not worth the effort. You're a shallow, cold-hearted woman who hates the world because you feel it's wronged you. You were that way as a child and you still are." Her smile held no warmth as she noted the flicker in Carrie's eyes. "I have a long memory, Carrie. As a child, you were cruel to other children, and some of them still carry the scars. You and I both know your husband didn't leave you because I cast a spell. He left you because he saw you for what you are and he found a woman who loves him and doesn't want to control him." She shook her head. "You're not angry because he left you. You're angry because deep down you know you're incapable of making any man happy."

Carrie's face mottled with rage. "Witch! Witch!" She made it sound like the vilest of curses.

For a moment Stasi's stomach filled with acid as old memories of that shrieked accusation a.s.saulted her mind. By sheer force of will she managed to hold on to her composure and walked away from Carrie and her vehemence.

Trev's expression gave her no hint of his thoughts as he pa.s.sed by Stasi and walked toward Carrie. Once he reached her, he lowered his head until his lips almost touched her ear, speaking for several moments. She calmed visibly, and he led her away down the street. Not once did he look back. Stasi reminded herself she didn't expect him to, but it still hurt.

She covered up her pain with the reminder she had told him to leave her alone, that Carrie was his client and she knew the woman was his priority.

Just as right now, her main concern was cleaning up her and Blair's shops as best she could. As it was, their shops wouldn't be re-opening for a couple days.

"Why do they always have to use the cheap black paint?" Jazz grumbled, zapping open Stasi's door and stepping inside. "This is just gross! Oh yeah, real original, a.s.sholes. At least learn how to spell correctly and come up with something more innovative than the old standbys!" She stared at a rear wall scrawled with obscenities. She took one look at Stasi's shocked expression and smiled rea.s.suringly. "Don't worry, we can take it all away."

"d.a.m.n it! That was the last original Scrabble game I had!" Blair could be heard wailing as she moved through her shop. "I'm putting out some search spells and when I find out who did this, I'm kicking some serious a.s.s into the next century."

"You took your time getting in here! Someone almost put an axe through me!" Felix wailed from his spot on the wall. "Half of my tail is gone," he moaned, as his newly bobbed tail swung back and forth in perfect time.

"Be grateful. You're about the only thing not destroyed," Blair growled, picking her way through the debris that littered the floor. "They snapped the heads off all the Madame Alexander dolls! And they were mint condition, too!"

Stasi felt as if she was moving through mola.s.ses as she walked into her shop. She stood in the doorway and looked at a chaos that punched holes in her heart. The books had been torn to pieces and thrown all over, while the lingerie had been shredded and some pieces were wet with a sticky substance that she didn't even want to think about.

"I guess we should call the sheriff," she muttered in a monotone.

"But you won't call him, will you?" Jazz didn't bother to wait for an answer as she zapped what had once been an exquisite camisole lying on the destroyed carpet. The fabric went up in smoke, leaving behind white ash.

"It wouldn't matter. The sheriff's Carrie's uncle on her mother's side." Stasi stepped carefully through the mess. "Boyd thinks she's a sweet little thing, just a bit high strung. His words. But we will need to take videos of the exterior of both shops for insurance purposes and inside to show damage to our stock."

Suddenly Stasi realized that what had originally woken her up was now silent. "Horace? Where are you? Horace!" She ran behind the counter then through the stock room. She breathed a soft sigh of relief to see that whoever had trashed her shop hadn't had time to go into the back. The stock hanging on racks in the back hadn't been touched. She finally found the gargoyle hiding under her desk. She was sorry the vandals hadn't been greedy enough to try to take the bewitched moneybag. She would have felt a bit cheerier if they'd suffered for their crimes. The moneybag had its own ways of dealing with thieves and it wasn't pretty. "Their turn is coming," she muttered, firmly believing in karma.

"It's a miracle I wasn't killed!" The gargoyle tried to scramble up her arms the minute she started to pick him up. "All this shouting woke me up then something broke the windows and they swarmed in like gors beetles." He mentioned a beetle used in transformation spells; the beetles were the size of lizards and their skin had an odd purple cast. They were also meaner than black mambas when caught. "We can move now, can't we? What about Palm Springs? Wait a minute, no, not there. A lot of old people there and no way I want to see all that wrinkled skin tanned to the consistency of old leather. LA? There're lots of hotties down there. Or Hawaii. Maybe Australia," he babbled. "Florida. No, they have lots of old people there too. And if the old ladies still wear those muumuus I'll see way too much cellulite and fat along with their Depends. I'd have to wash my eyes out with acid. But after what happened we can't stay here!" He grabbed her arms and shook her, which wasn't an easy feat for an eight-inch gargoyle, but he had his strength behind him. His wings swept back and forth, increasing in intensity.

"Horace, calm yourself! And we're not going anywhere." She winced as his claws dug into her arms, snagging her sweater. She wasn't used to seeing the gargoyle hysterical. His gray skin was mottled red and bright pink with agitation and his wings flapped so fast they created a strong breeze. She stroked his horns, usually guaranteed to soothe his frazzled nerves, but it didn't seem to be doing the trick this time.

"I'm proud of you, lovey." Jazz walked in and sat on the extra chair. "Oh for Fates sake!" She grimaced when she realized that her sweater was inside out with the tag hanging under her chin. She quickly pulled it over her head and set it to rights. Once that was done, she finger combed her hair, piling it on top of her head in a loose knot that she secured with a pair of dark jade chopsticks she pulled out of thin air. "You did the right thing by standing up to that harridan and putting the fear into her. I always knew you had it in you. There was no reason for you to take her s.h.i.t."

"I felt like a shrew." Stasi busied herself carefully peeling each of Horace's claws out of the knit of her sweater, and then set him gently on her desk. He immediately scuttled back to rest against her sleeve, rubbing his face against her arm as if he was a cat seeking rea.s.surance. She had never seen her sharp-tongued gargoyle rattled, and this upset her as much as seeing her beautiful shop destroyed. Horace could be a pain in the neck, but he didn't deserve to feel like this. She was only grateful he'd had the sense to hide, since Horace was too proud to admit he was a coward and would run from danger if he felt the least bit threatened. She didn't think anything could happen to him, but that didn't mean someone might not have tried.

"Did you deck Carrie? Tell me you rearranged her ugly face," Horace begged, wiping his nose against Stasi's sleeve. "I didn't hear her voice when they broke into the stores, but we know the shrew had to have been behind it, right? How about warts? Did you at least give her warts or some disgusting skin disease that no dermatologist in the world can cure?"

"I didn't touch her, but I did let her know there's nothing she can do to scare me." Stasi reached into the small refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of lime-flavored sparkling water. She handed one to Jazz, who unscrewed the cap and drank deeply.

"What I saw out there was a woman so filled with hate that no other emotion could have found its way inside her." Jazz set her bottle on the desk. "When you said things were upset around here and told me what happened to the lake, I thought it was nothing more than someone messing up a spell and that Carrie was nothing more than an empty-headed twit who wanted this lawsuit because she has a grudge against you. She's a twit, all right, but she's not empty-headed. She's beyond that. She's making serious trouble for you, Stasi. That's why I found a wizard lawyer for you. He's not afraid to go up against Trevor Barnes, either."

Stasi idly ran her finger along the length of the cold plastic bottle. "I saw that kind of hate in Salem Village in 1692," she murmured. "It was a dark time back then. Once the accusations and trials started, people grew afraid they would be targeted next, so they would accuse someone else, even if it was a family member or close friend, to divert suspicion. As a result, so many were hurt and tortured, others died, and they all carried one sort of pain or another. I don't think one person was unaffected by the time it was over. It was bad in Europe with the witch finders, too. Look what Witch Finder Matthew Hopkins did in 1644. People now think he was nothing more than a character in a movie, when we all know he was so much more and many innocent people were killed because of him. The problem with Salem Village was that it was such a small area that it took no time at all for fear to spread like a plague."

"I wish you had contacted one of us back then," Jazz whispered, easily feeling the hurt within Stasi's heart. "We had no idea what was going on there until it was over. For Fates sake, Stasi, we could have lost you to that mob!" Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

"But you didn't lose me. I dampened my magick and did my best to seem harmless. As long as I was in Salem Village I had to be so careful that I didn't do anything that would draw attention. I'm sure they would have seen my leaving there as a sign of guilt." Her eyes grew dark with past terror. "I didn't feel safe for the next hundred years. Sleep wasn't easy to come by and the nightmares took even longer to leave me."

Jazz's expression of horror echoed Stasi's. Not that long ago she'd had her own bad dreams to deal with. She had been able to destroy a part of her enemy and had to grudgingly deal with the other part, but she'd had Nick and others to help her. Stasi had been alone then with only her dread of being targeted for company.

"Don't let anyone rob you of your power," she advised. "Believe me, if anybody knows what feeling powerless is like, it's me."

Stasi couldn't help but smile. "As I well know. That forty-eight hours of you without your magick was not a pleasant time."

"And you think it was fun for me? I was never so glad as when I got up that morning and found that face-covering zit gone." Jazz drank some more of her water. "What do you want, Stasi? Do you want the attorney I found for you, so you can trounce Carrie in court? Because I can't see her lawsuit going anywhere but down the toilet. Do you want all of us to go out there and band together to bring the lake back to life and find out the source of those lights and who, or what, caused that barrier? Do you want to walk away from here and never look back? What feels right to you?"

Stasi used the time to drink more water. She would have killed for a cup of coffee, but the vandals had smashed the coffeemaker to bits and she was too tired to conjure up a cup.

"I want the town to go back to the way it was," she said finally. "I want people to smile and say h.e.l.lo to each other like they used to. I don't want fear to settle in here and I don't want anger to rule their lives."

"They're human, Stasi. They're ruled by their emotions."

"So are we." She looked at Horace who had finally sidled over to the edge of the desk and curled up in a ball, fast asleep. His snores were loud enough to wake the dead. She hadn't seen Bogie down here and gathered that the dog had been smart and stayed upstairs. "Magick doesn't rule our lives. It enriches us."

"Tell that to humans who are only interested in a good hex to take out an enemy or at least make them miserable. Don't forget that I've met more than my share."

Stasi reached across the desk and took Jazz's hands in hers. "All humans aren't like that. Thank you for being here, Jazz. Blair tends to let her temper loose and while she doesn't mean to, things usually only get worse."

Jazz had to laugh at that, since her Irish temper was legendary. "And I don't?"

She smiled. "Yes, but you stepped back and let me handle Carrie on my own, even though I'm sure you wanted to take a bite out of her. That meant a lot."

Jazz waved away her thanks. "I only did what was right. She's your fight and you need to be the one to battle her. I know why Blair feels she needs to step in. She wants to protect you. We all do. You're our sweetheart witch. Until Carrie got under your skin, you would never say anything bad against anyone. You see the good in someone no matter how deep it might lie. Because of your soft-hearted nature we always felt you couldn't fight your own battles, but now you're showing that you can, and you're displaying an impressive amount of teeth when you're doing it. You don't need our protection anymore. You do just fine on your own, and I'm so proud of you. Now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's go on to a more pleasurable subject." Her eyes twinkled with wicked laughter. "Tell all about the hot wizard. Does he kiss as good as he looks?" She laughed when she saw her friend's blush start along her forehead and travel down her face to her throat. "You didn't? You did!" Fluff and Puff chortled along with her. "You had your way with the man."

"It was sort of mutual," she admitted.

"h.e.l.lo? Stasi?"

"Ginny!" Stasi was never so glad for an interruption. She jumped to her feet and ran out of the office with Jazz following her.

The lovely Asian woman stepped carefully through the mess holding a drink carrier with coffee cups and a bag. She smiled at Nick, who was busy using the video camera to record the extent of the damage.

"Oh Stasi," she moaned softly, shock widening her eyes. "h.e.l.lo, Jazz." She held up the carrier and bag. "I thought you might need caffeine and sustenance. I baked them fresh this morning." She looked around the trashed shop. "I think I should have brought a bulldozer instead. How could someone do this?"

Jazz immediately latched onto the coffee and oohed and ahhed over the pastries in the bag before grabbing one. "This is perfect, thank you."

"Carrie is out of control," Ginny said flatly, turning back to Stasi.

"There's no proof she was behind this," Stasi murmured, sipping the hot coffee with a sigh of relief and allowing the caffeine to flood her system.