Charmed & Ready (17 page)

Zane had Jacques, his favorite L.A. chef, come in and fix us steaks with about six different side dishes. There were potatoes, green beans, mushrooms, hominy and more. I can't remember everything, but I tasted it all.

Determined to eat away my troubles, I feasted like there wasn't going to be an extra ten pounds on me tomorrow.

When I asked the chef for a second steak, Zane made the mistake of saying, "Is anything wrong?"

The tears flowed. I'm sure it was the combination of sunburn, liquor and the fact that I almost died a few weeks ago.

He closed the door between the kitchen and dining room. Moving his chair next to mine, he took my hands.

"Whatever it is, love, tell me. Maybe I can help."

I sniffled. "You can't help. You're one of them."

"One of who?"

"Stupid men." I sobbed. It's so embarrassing in hindsight, but I couldn't stop crying.

He hugged me. "Yes, we can be. Does this have something to do with your doctor?"

"Stop being understanding." I pushed at his shoulder. "You're a big famous rock star. You love 'em and leave 'em. I bet you have twenty women in every town in the world who want to sleep with you. Hell, you've got millions. That's what I need to do. Just love 'em and leave 'em."

"So, what did the doctor do?" He ignored my rants.

"He just left and went to save the world and some girl answered his phone. She laughed at me."

"Who laughed at you?" Zane looked at me like I was a child.

"The woman who answered Sam's phone." I was incredulous. How could he not understand?

"So a strange woman answered your boyfriend's phone and that's sent you off the edge?" He had a knowing look in his eyes. About damn time.

Using a napkin, he dabbed the end of my nose. I'm sure I looked most attractive with snot running down my sunburned face.

"Yes." I pouted.

Then I started crying again. Big heaving sobs. He pulled me against him, careful not to touch my sunburn. He patted my back, which was fire free. And whispered soothing words.

That's when I noticed his mouth. Zane's lips are so perfect. Not too big or small, and they are shaped like an M. He'd kissed me one day when he'd been excited, but it was just a peck. I wondered what it would be like to kiss him with more passion.

When I looked up to his face, I could see he was thinking about kissing me too.

I don't know how, but I pushed away. The motion seemed to draw him to attention. "Sorry, love. You just looked so sweet there staring up at me."

"It's okay. Zane?"

"Yes?"

I stared at him. "Right now, more than anything, I need a friend."

He smiled and took my hand. "You've got it, love. You've saved my life so many times I've stopped counting. I'll be whatever you want. What's say we get you that other steak?"

I nodded.

That's when Simone came in.

"What the fuck happened? Zane, did you make her cry?" she yelled at him.

He held up his hands. "No."

I started laughing. She's a tough one, but you gotta love Simone. She's always there for her friends.

She stared at me. "What happened? Someone answer me or I'm gonna kick both your asses."

That made me laugh harder.

Zane obviously valued his ass more than I do mine. He told her what happened with Sam.

"Bronwyn, you know he loves you. He wouldn't do anything to hurt you." Simone was serious.

She should know. When I was off with Azir a few months ago, she'd come to Sweet to recuperate from a nasty demon attack. Sam had taken care of her for me, and she tried to get in his pants. He didn't take what she offered. Thank God. She told me all about it, but before I could kill her, she said she'd done it for me. She couldn't believe there was a guy who could resist her charms. But Sam was one of them. If his love was that strong, she figured we should go full throttle toward happily ever after.

Just one problem. I don't think happily ever after is in my deck of playing cards.

I knew he loved me, or he had. "I know that, I do." And I did. "But a woman answered his phone, there's no getting around it."

She was about to say something but stopped. "Well, it's been my experience that most men are scum." She waved a hand and pointed at Zane. "Present company excluded. So, are we drowning our sorrows in booze and food? Because I could use both."

As buzzed as I felt, I realized something must have happened. Simone does a lot of wild and crazy things, but drinking isn't one of them. She must have cleaned up after the fight, because she smelled like cinnamon. She was dressed in denim shorts and a cutesy white T-shirt. Very un-Simone. She's usually dressed head to toe in leather, or low, tight jeans.

Zane went to tell the chef to throw some more steaks on the grill.

"Did you find the demons?"

She put her head in her hands, and stared at the table. "Yes."

I walked around and touched her shoulder. She's not real big on touching. When she didn't flinch, I squeezed her shoulder.

"Tell me," I whispered.

"I tracked them to a house in the mountains. They'd been taking victims there for a couple of weeks. The blood trails were strong. I had no idea how many of them were there. But when I busted in…"

She sighed. "Sometimes this job… I never know what I'm going to find."

"You don't have to talk, but I'm here."

She looked up at me. "I actually want to, but I don't want to give you the same visuals. It's too much."

So much pain in those green eyes.

"Tell me, Simone. I can take it."

She shook her head. "You probably are one of the few who could." She paused. "They were feeding on pregnant women." Turning her head, she pounded the table. She stood. Paced back and forth.

"I won't tell you exactly what I saw, but I saved the baby. I couldn't save the mother." Her voice was hushed. Hurt rode there, harsh and abrasive.

"The father was at the hospital. I couldn't face him. I gave the baby to the medical staff and told them what happened. The spook squad informed the families. I watched the husband fall to his knees. I heard his cries. I didn't get there in time to save his wife."

I saw Zane at the door. His eyes were glassy, and I knew he held tears back. So did I. Simone needed us to be strong.

I suddenly felt way too sober for the conversation. "Simone, you saved the baby and countless other lives by destroying the hive. You have to focus on the good."

Simone shook her head. "Bron, I've seen so much shit, but what they did to those women…"

There would be no soothing her. I whispered a small spell to give her some peace. Not to take anything way, just to help her deal with the trauma.

Zane walked in with the steaks and put them on the table, followed by the chef who held a huge cake. Pouring Simone a glass of "lemonade," Zane waited while she took a long drink. When she smiled, he refilled the glass.

The cake tasted like the inside of Oreos mixed with chocolate pudding. The frosting was like a stiff mousse. Yummers.

We were bloated, drunk and decided we needed to exercise.

But instead of the gym, Zane took us to the home theater.

It was huge. With big leather recliners, a projector screen and a stage. He turned on a karaoke machine and video camera. We sang "I Will Survive," and made our own music video.

Then we took turns doing solo performances. I warbled through Patsy Cline's "Walkin' After Midnight." Simone chose "Hey Jude." And Zane cracked us up with a rendition of Eminem's old song "Mockingbird."

Zane the rock star as a rapper. He was hilarious, and actually, pretty damn good. If this day job doesn't work out, he might do well in Detroit. Though he'd have to dog it down a bit, and throw away the Versace.

I laughed so much my stomach actually hurts today.

The next thing I knew it was morning and my cell phone was ringing. I couldn't open my eyes, but reached around trying to find the phone.

Zane answered it. "Hello? Who? Oh, yes, yes. Just a moment."

He handed me the phone. I squinted and noticed we were in my bed. Fully clothed. Simone was hanging off the other side.

"This is Bronwyn." I tried to sound businessy, even though there was a woodpecker stabbing his beak into the middle of my forehead.

"Who was that?" Sam's question made me sit up in the bed. Grabbing my head with the pain.

"What?" I needed a moment.

"The man who answered your phone, Bronwyn. Who was he?"

"Oohh. Zane. Where are you?" I needed to change the subject. As dull as my brain was, I knew that was necessary.

"I'm home." He sounded sullen.

"You sound tired. Is everything okay?"

Then I remembered about the woman who answered his phone. I was supposed to be angry with him.

"I called to tell you I was back. Obviously you're busy."

It took me a minute. "No, no. I was asleep. Oh, no, it isn't what you think. We just passed out. Simone and Zane… We all had a bit too much to drink last night and… well to be honest I'm not sure how we ended up here, but nothing happened." I rattled on.

"Bronwyn, I can't deal with this right now." He was angry.

"Wait a minute. Before you go off on one of your I-can't-trust-the-world speeches, I'll have you know that I called your phone yesterday and a woman answered. So tell me, Sam. Who answered
your
phone?"

He grunted. "I don't know."

"That's not an answer, Sam. You can think the worst of me, I'm trying not to do that with you." Well I was, but hell.

"I don't know because my phone was stolen while we were in I the jungle. I was going to give you my new number but right now I see very little use in it."

He hung up.

Argh!

Stupid men. Stolen phone. Argh!

Why were his stories always so much better than mine? It wasn't fair.

I've got to mix some more hangover potions for all of us. Then, when my brain stops beating against my skull, I'll try calling him gain.

So, I was in bed with Zane and Simone. It wasn't like anything happened. Of course he didn't know that, but still.

Oh, crap.

Wednesday, 4 P. M.

Beverly Hills, California

Chants: 5

Spells: 3

Witches with new Marc Jacobs sparkly Mary Janes: 1

I couldn't stop him. Trust me, I tried.

Zane proclaimed today National Shopping Till We Drop Day. Cabin fever had infected his mind and he had to get out of the house.

With Simone and me in tow, we hit Rodeo Drive first. I saw it some in London, but we are even more celebrity crazed here. For most of the day we were able to hold the general public away from Zane, but that didn't keep the salespeople from falling all over themselves to please him.

We began the day, as all good shoppers should, at the Giorgio Armani Boutique. My mom's the shopaholic of our family, but I do have penchant for clean lines, fantastic shoes and anything that makes my butt look good.

After Armani, we made stops at Prada, Chanel, Louis Vuitton and Hugo Boss.
Simone, who
lives in leather pants (harder for demon claws to get through) and minuscule tops, actually got into the fun.

I think maybe she needed something to take her mind off of the demon battle yesterday.

In Prada, Zane insisted we try on these awesome shoes.

"If you ever tell anyone how much I'm enjoying this, I'll slit your throat," Simone whispered while we paraded in front of the mirrors looking at our fabulous legs in Prada heels.

"Hey, that goes two ways, girlfriend. Have you ever in your life seen a straight man who loved shopping so much?" I tried on a pair
of
sassy light blue pumps with a tiny strap around the ankle.

She laughed. "No. Did you see how much money he spent at Armani? My God, if he didn't raise so much for starving children, I'd have a serious problem with the guy."

Checked myself in the mirror. My sunburn had faded to a light honey color and no longer hurt. "That's what makes him so interesting. I'm not the best psychoanalyst, but I think he uses shopping as a way of taking control. Like if he can buy things and have whatever he wants, then the world is a better place. I don't know." I pulled on a pair of yellow sandals. "I need a pedicure."

Simone thumped herself on the head. "Oh shit, I'm so sorry. I forgot all about our beauty day."

I put a hand on her arm. "Hey, you were busy saving the world. Besides, we can do it some other time."

"I'll call the great almighty stylist. God, David will be so pissed. It takes forever to get in. But he loves and adores me, and I think he might even be a little afraid of me. I'll get us another appointment."

She pulled out her cell and walked around the corner.

Zane came back and he and his assistant were loaded down with bags. Two of the security guards from Zane's entourage hauled everything out to the car.

"So, luv, fancy anything from my beloved Prada?" He was dressed in jeans today. They were faded, striped, ragged on the end and probably cost five hundred bucks. His white shirt had sheer stripes through it, and his sunglasses were balanced on his head.