War-N-Wit, Inc. - The Coven (War-N-Wit, Inc. - Book 3) (7 page)

* * *

The hotel room wasn’t a bit bigger when we got back, but all Stacy and I
really cared about was the shower. We’d stopped smelling beer hours ago, but the residue was sticky.

“You go first,” I said. Big sisters looked after little sisters.
Big sister habits died hard.

“You go first. You got a
lot more directly on you than I did.”

“Okay, we’ll do it the fair way.
Paper, rock, scissors. Ready?”

“Ready.”

“One, two, three—” I looked down at our hands.

“Rock breaks scissors,” Stacy said.
“You go.”

“And to avoid tying up the bathroom, we’ll make it a double.”
Chad slipped neatly through the door and pulled me in after him.

“Excuse me?”
I hissed furiously.

He leaned close and whispered in my ear.
“Baby girl, we’re in a double room with two other people. For
several
more days. Got to grab opportunity when we get it.”

I turned and started the water.

“Only thing you’re grabbin’ with somebody right outside that door is a shower. And with two other people out there who’d also like to feel clean, you’re doin’ it damn
quick
.”

“You’re a fascinating blend of pure lady and wild child, I ever tell you that?”

“Yeah, frequently. Now move it.”

* * *

We all showered the beer residue off and hit our respective assigned beds—which meant extra pillows piled in the middle of the guys’ bed to their complete satisfaction so as to assure no accidental touching. Unfortunately, showers usually revived me somewhat no matter how tired I was. They also had the same effect on Stacy. From the changed rhythm of the guys’ breathing, hot water didn’t have the same effect on them. They were passed out. I stared at the ceiling and tried to wind down. Wasn’t working. Wasn’t working for Stacy, either.

“Ari?”

“Yeah?” I braced myself and grabbed the edge of my pillow. From years of slumber parties, I knew what was coming.

“
Gottcha!
”

“
Gottcha first!
” I rolled and snatched my pillow from under my head, slamming it into Stacy’s pillow before it connected with my face. Both of us perched on our knees and plummeted our pillows against the other.

“
What the hell—
” The two large bodies from the next bed sat up at the same time.

“
Pillow fight!
You snooze, you lose!” As one, we bounded across the twelve inch space between the beds onto theirs and started pelting. Besides, all the fresh ammunition was on their bed. That male “don’t touch each other” thing. They sputtered, grabbed for pillows, and came out swinging. Pillows flew everywhere, in every direction.

Calling up memories of too many pillow fights to count, both of us swerved and twisted Ninja-style. The guys didn’t have a chance. Then I lost my balance and fell full forward onto Chad.
On the way down, I knocked Stacy off balance and she smashed into Spike, knocking him flat onto the bed and landing full on top of him. The aura of color surrounding them pulsed and turned crimson. So did Stacy’s cheeks. Spike’s Las Vegas desert tan was too dark to turn crimson, but there was some extra color there, for sure. Stacy sprang back up, grabbed a pillow and started swinging again.

Since we were making so much noise ourselves, the vibrations filtered through first.
Pounding feet shook the walkway in front of our second floor room.

Then we heard the outside screams.

“
Coward! Why’d you want it, you ain’t man enough to handle it?
”

“
Help! Get her off me!
” Strangled coughs and gasps for breath. “Crazy bitch tryin’ to fuckin’
kill
me!!”

“You wanted it, honey,
you got it!
Too much for you? Come back here and take it like a
man
!”

“What the
hell
—” Stacy bounded to the edge of the bed and fumbled at the lamp, bringing the room out of shadow.

More voices chimed in from outside.

“
Whoo-whoo!! You go, girl! Show him who’s boss!”

“
Man up, dude! You’re embarrassing all of us! You’re actin’ like a sissy girl!”

Chad and Spike groaned simultaneously and threw the covers off their respective side
s.

“Shit!”
Spike, impressive biceps highlighted by the tight white t-shirt and sleep pants, navigated towards the chair by the door where I’d seen him stash his medical bag. “
Owww!
” His bare foot smashed into the corner of the bed.

“What the
hell
is going on out there?”

“
First case of attempted death by boobs of the night, probably,” Chad said, throwing the door open.

“
Death by boobs
?”

A naked biker was on his knees in front of our door
. His equally naked lady friend stood in front of him, bent over slightly. She clasped his head tightly between her impressive chest equipment. The gasps for breath reached new heights of desperation.

“Are those
real
?” Stacy whispered in awe.

“Not in a million years,” I whispered back.

“Okay, honey, okay!” Chad grabbed her hands and pried the laced fingers apart. “You’ve proved your point, let him loose!” The biker slumped onto the walkway, gulping and wheezing. Spike knelt beside him on the concrete and opened his bag.

“Steady, guy, c’mon, you’ll live.
Probably.” He pulled out his stethoscope and started checking the man’s heartbeat.

One of the bystanders catcalled. “
Oh, man, check this out! The doctor from the Cartoon Channel! Dude’s got
Spongebob Squarepants
on his stethoscope!”

Spike ignored
him and kept listening.

“Got Mickey Mouse in there, too, Doc?”

Satisfied, Spike whipped the stethoscope out of his ears with the practiced ease of all doctors. “Okay, guy, your heart rate’s settling on down. Don’t think you’re about to have a heart attack. This time.” He reached into his bag and pulled out his penlight. The penlight had Mickey Mouse perched on the top.

“
Shit
! He
does
have Mickey Mouse! What’s next, Doc, Donald Duck?”

Spike s
teadied the top of the man’s head with one hand and flicked the light quickly back and forth between his eyes.

“And if you don’t throw any more booze or speed into your system tonight, you might not die of an overdose, either, but I don’t guarantee it.”

“
Doc
! C’mon, I said you got Donald Duck in that bag, too? What kind of doctor are you, anyway?”

Spike replaced his stethoscope and penlight and closed his bag. Then he stood up.
Slowly. Taking his time, he straightened to his full six foot, six inch height. His wide shoulder span seemed to increase. He walked over to the catcaller. The five foot, ten inch catcaller.

“Pediatrician.
You got a problem with that?”

“Nope. Not a one.”

“Didn’t think so.”

Chad and Spike came back in the room, clicked the lock, and flipped the inside safety bolt firmly.

“Death by boobs?” I asked again.

“Yeah.”

“That happen often?”

“All night, every night.
All over Daytona during Bike Week.”

“Lovely.”

Chapter
Seven

We didn’t wake up till almost ten the next morning.

“So—in the last twenty-four hours, Chad’s been arrested, we almost had to sleep on the street, we’ve had beer baths
and pillow fights, and we’ve prevented a homicide by boobs. What’re we goin’ to do today?” I asked over breakfast.

“Baby girl,
if I didn’t know better, I’d say you weren’t really enjoying Bike Week.”

“Well, it’s been a new experience, I’ll give it that.”

“Let’s ride the Loop,” Spike suggested. “Give the girls some fresh air and a little sanity.”

“That’d be nice,” Stacy said.
“The Loop?”

“A twenty plus mile run around the area.
Great ride, great scenery. Very peaceful. You can’t come to Bike Week and not ride the Loop. It’s a law. And this time of day, it might not even be real crowded. Lots of folks still sleeping off last night.”

“Sounds like a nice change.”

We picked up the Loop at its start at Granada Bridge in Ormond Beach and ran down John Anderson Drive. Then we ran into an outdoor Cathedral of overhanging branches. It was glorious. Blue sky peeked through green. No other riders in sight. Peace on earth. Right up until the moment Spike swerved and the Harley Road King came so close to hitting the pavement my heart almost stopped. Chad turned in a half circle and came back around to the Dark Angel.

Spike straightened it up and came to a stop
just off the road. His foot hit the kick-stand harder than a place kicker desperate for the winning field goal. He flung himself off the seat and charged into the middle of the road.

“What the
fuck
, man! You
crazy?
Just standing there in the middle of the freaking
road
?”

I looked at Chad.
Chad looked at me. We looked back at the road again for confirmation. Nope. Nobody was there. Stacy flung herself off the bike and raced to Spike, grabbing one of the arms he was flinging wildly for emphasis.

“Spike!”

“
Help? Buddy, you got a mighty peculiar way of asking for help! I have a
lady
on the back of that bike, she’d have been
hurt
if I’d had to lay that bike down!”

“Spike, calm down!”

“He coulda gotten you
hurt
, Stacy! Anybody that stupid, I’m not worried about
him
getting hurt, woulda served him right!”

“Spike, you couldn’t have hurt him.
He’s dead.”

“No, he’s
not
! He’s standing right there—” Spike broke off. “He
is
standing right there. Isn’t he?”

“For you and me, yes.
For Chad and Ari, nope, they can’t see a thing.”

Spike looked over at us, eyebrows raised.

“Guys? C’mon, you see him! Don’t you?”

Chad laughed.
“Nope. But that’s okay. Because I can finally tell you—
Welcome!
To the world of magic! Always knew sooner or later you were gonna turn it loose. Guess our own little private coven’s growing.”

Spike backed slowly away from the dead man only he and Stacy could see.
He shook his head.

“No.
Mom always said I had it. I never did. I don’t. I don’t
want
it.”

Stacy leaned her head against his shoulder in sympathy.

“Darlin’, some things—you just don’t have a choice about.”

“But you see him? That’s your thing? Like
Magic Man and Ari just know things?”

“It’s one of my things. We all have kind of a mix of things.
So do you. And now that you’re open, you’ll start finding out what your other things are.”

“And you’ve been seeing dead people how long?”

“All my life, darlin’. Don’t remember when I didn’t. And we see them for a reason. Now, this guy needs help. So let’s go help him.” She called over to us. “Y’all excuse us a few minutes? We need to have a talk with our visitor here.”

“Take your time. We’ll be right here.”

* * *

Chad pulled completely off the road by the Dark Angel.
Spike and Stacy stood on the opposite road shoulder having their conversation with the dead man we couldn’t see.

“What’s his name?” I asked.

“Whose name?”

“The missin’-in-action agent you’re supposed to keep an eye out for.
Because you know damn well we just found him.”

“Yeah
, poor son-of-a-bitch. Damn it.”

“
Who is he?”

“
Name’s Blake Stanton. Undercover as Buck Johnson. His handle was Badass Buck.”

“You’re kiddin’ on that, right?”

“Badass?” Chad smiled faintly. “No, I’m not kidding but he wasn’t enough of one. Obviously.”