Hexed

magic.
    “Coyote says it’s a hex, not a spell,” I said as I approached him. “All doors and windows are locked downstairs.” I looked around. “So why doesn’t it apply to the roof?”
    “Who says it doesn’t?” Mick picked up a pebble and tossed it upward as hard as he could. About fifteen feet above our heads, the pebbled exploded into dust.
    “Shit,” I whispered.
    “Funny, that’s what I said.” Mick dusted his hand on his pants. “If I change to dragon up here, and my body expands . . . zap .”
    Terrific. There went my hope that Mick could spread his dragon wings and fly away, maybe go for help or find whatever mage was chanting the curse and fry him.
    “How did this get by you?” I asked. “This is the bestwarded building I’ve ever been in. You must have felt someone trying to cast a spell. How did it get by me ?”
    “Like Coyote says, it’s a curse, not a spell,” Mick said. “Different thing.”
    “Oh, right.” Wiccan magic isn’t really my thing. Mick had taught me to work minor spells such as those for healing or protection, but my true power is more raw and basic. Instinctive. Mick was the one with the encyclopedic knowledge of magics.
    “Hexes can fasten themselves like leeches or barnacles to a person or a place and then spread,” Mick explained. “They can be cast on one target, like a building, a car, or even a whole town if the caster is strong enough. An expert witch can slide the curse onto protective wards and use the wards themselves to sink the curse into the building, kind of like an infection.”
    Great. A magical bacteria.
    I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my jeans. “So how do we get rid of it? Can we infuse the wards with defensive magic, kind of like sending in antibiotics?”
    “Possibly. Or we could take down the wards altogether, but that might be exactly what the mage wants. Hexes are tricky. Let me think about it. In the meantime, we need to minimize casualties.”
    Minimize casualties. Just what I wanted to hear.
    I raised my gaze to the mountains in the west that were quickly fading into the dusk and said a prayer. The gods of my people lived in those mountains, and so did the kachinas, the Hopi spirits who were watching me, not always in a friendly way.
    “This was not how I envisioned spending my evening,” I said.
    “No?” Mick’s smile heated my blood. “And how did you envision spending it?”
    I traced the reddish dust on the rooftop with my boot. “Since I haven’t seen you in a couple of days, how did you think?”
    “I can guess.” His smile widened. “I have a couple of new things I want to try.”
    “New things?” I gave him a mock-innocent look. “You mean there’s more?”
    “So much more.” Mick came to me and drew the knuckle of his forefinger down my cheek. “I want to teach you everything, Janet.”
    Believe me, I wanted to learn. I turned my head and pressed a kiss to his palm. “Maybe a little Tantric magic would loosen up the curse?”
    Mick’s growl wasn’t human. “I wish, but we can’t trust the hex. It might make some seriously bad shit happen.”
    Like things falling off, maybe? Figures. I had the feeling the hex wasn’t going to let us have any fun.
    Mick brushed his thumb over the corner of my mouth. “It would be a hell of a way to go, but I’m not ready to lose you yet.”
    I wasn’t ready to lose Mick, either, especially when I still wasn’t really sure I had him. I raised on my tiptoes and kissed his lips.
    “Let’s go minimize casualties,” I said before I could turn the kiss into something more satisfying. “But when this is done . . .”
    Mick slanted me his bad-boy smile. “When this is done, I won’t hold back.”
    I returned the grin. “Good. I’m looking forward to it.”
     
    WE WALKED INSIDE together, hand in hand. “Who’s in?” Mick asked as we started down the stairs.
    I considered. “Maya, Coyote, Cassandra, me, and you. Fremont. Juana walked off the job, and Elena never showed up. I only had three rooms filled, and one couple left after the curse played the little trick with the blood. I don’t know whether the other guests have come back for the night . . .” I stopped in my tracks. “Crap.”
    Mick and I looked at each other, realizing at the same time. “Ansel,” we said together, and we took the stairs at a run.

THREE
     

     
    JUST THE QUESTION TO MAKE MY DAY bright—what effects will a very powerful mage’s curse have on a Nightwalker who’s