Charmed & Ready Read online

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  Charmed & Ready

  By

  Candace Havens

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  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

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  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada

  (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

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  (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)

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  (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Copyright © 2006 by Candace Havens.

  The Edgar® name is a registered service mark of the Mystery Writers of America, Inc.

  All rights reserved.

  BERKLEY is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  The "B" design is a trademark belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Berkley trade paperback edition / September 2006

  ISBN 0-425-21161-4

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

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  To all the divas of the world who love a great pair of shoes

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  Acknowledgments

  A special thank-you to the lovely Anne Sowards for taking on my books and making the transition seamless. Leslie Gelbman and the rest of the gang at Berkley, thank you for making my dreams come true.

  Sha-Shana Crichton, please know how much I admire your patience and intelligence. To the writers of DFW Writers' Workshop, NTRWA, FF&P, ChickLit, Romance Divas, Witchy Chicks, The Fast Draft crew, and all of you who have supported me, helped with research, and listened to countless drafts, thank you.

  To the readers of Charmed & Dangerous who kept asking, "When does the next one come out?" Thank you.

  Britta, Shannon, and Rosemary, your friendships are priceless. I tip my tiara to you all. Jodi Thomas, Jennifer Archer, Gena Showalter, Laurie Moore, and Sarah Clark Jordan, thank you for always being there when I have the "crazy" questions.

  Steve, Jeff, and Parker, I love you all. Mom, Dad, and Grandma Irby and the rest of my family, you have always believed, and I am forever grateful.

  Music is often my inspiration and these folks helped my story along: Sheryl Crow, Joss Stone, The Rolling Stones, U2, The Killers, Switchfoot, Yellowcard, Jack Johnson, Faith Hill, and Martina McBride.

  * * *

  Prologue

  "Two weeks of sipping raspberry margaritas and mojitos on the beach. No worries, just sun and fun." I shifted on the dirt floor. The smell of dead rats overwhelmed my senses. I couldn't face Simone. The chains binding us to the steel pole wouldn't allow much movement.

  "I know." The demon slayer sighed.

  "I'm taking time off and we'll do nothing but fun girly things. Spa days, tanning, a trip to the hair salon to see Sir David; he's a master with highlights." I bit my lip and looked up at the ceiling. Nothing there that would help us.

  "He is." The chains rattled. "And you're beautiful. Your hair's never looked better."

  I ignored the compliment. "Sleep as much as you want."

  "Well, there was that first day." Her voice carried an edge.

  "I was shot with a tranquilizer dart." I tried to grab the chain with my hand, but was bound too tight.

  "Yes, but you slept like a baby for twenty-four hours." She had the nerve to giggle.

  "Get away from all of your troubles at home and experience how the Hollywood set lives. See the sights, and hang with the real party crowd,'" I grumbled. I couldn't help it.

  "We were at a great party before this happened, and that one guy totally wanted in your pants."

  "Yes, a demon who wanted to impregnate me with slime-filled eggs." I knocked on the pole with my fist. "This so sucks."

  "Yep."

  The door burst open. "Who is the first to die?" the demon roared. Stupid creep was way too dramatic. That's Hollywood for you.

  I guess it was time.

  "I'll go. Anything is better than listening to her bitch." Simone slid halfway up the pole.

  "Simone?"

  "What?"

  The demon unshackled her chains. He smelled like dog pee. I suppose that was his natural aroma. At the party his body odor hadn't been so offensive. But he'd been masking as a human.

  "If we get out of this, I'm going to kick your ass." No levity in my voice.

  "You'll have to wait in line. And I'd like to remind you, the assholes waiting upstairs are after you."

  I cleared my throat. Damn, I'd guessed they were warlocks. Simone's senses confirmed it. "True. I'm sorry. None of this is your fault." It really wasn't. I tend to get in a bad mood when doom is near. I couldn't keep the worry from my voice. "I didn't mean it, before. You know that, right?"

  She half laughed. "I know, Bron. It's not your fault, either."

  "Enough talk. Come, demon slayer. The master waits." His big horned head motioned my way. "I'm going to enjoy watching you squirm, witch."

  Can't believe I thought that jerk was cute at the party. He pulled Simone up the stairway and I smelled the smoke from the fire as he opened the door.

  Man, I hate it when bad guys sacrifice my friends. And I especially hate the fact I'm next.

  * * *

  Chapter One

  Monday, 9 A. M.

  Manhattan

  Spells: 5

  Charms: 3
<
br />   Bad guys: 0 (Unless you count the almost boyfriend who ignores me)

  I've finally discovered something I don't like about Sweet, Texas. August. I like warm weather but this is insane. I walked out the front door to get the paper, and by the time I returned to the porch, my body was covered in sweat.

  Ack!

  Stood under the vent in the living room for a good three minutes to cool off. I've got to pack for New York, which I understand isn't much cooler than Sweet right now.

  The prime minister called last night and asked me to meet him there. He's one of my best clients, and the guy who gave me the big break in witchy protection. So, I usually do whatever he wants. And he's a good guy, who cares about his people.

  "Bronwyn, I'm meeting with the vice president, Dr. Zocando, Sheik Azir and that rock star Zane. We're in talks about world hunger, and I'd like you to sit in with us." The PM's usually clipped tones sounded a bit frantic.

  "Is everything okay, sir?"

  "Miles is on vacation and things don't seem to run well when he's not around."

  The PM's snippy twit of an assistant, Miles, was a royal bore and pain. But he did keep the diplomat's schedule running smooth.

  "Wait. Did you say Sheik Azir would be there?"

  "Yes, is that a problem?"

  "No, sir. I just wasn't sure I'd heard you correctly." I'd had an almost romance with the sheik a few months ago, and hadn't seen or heard from him since. Didn't really have time to think much about seeing him again, but I suddenly felt queasy.

  "I'll be there around 8 P.M. Will that work?"

  "Yes, we have a room booked for you at the Gansevoort Hotel."

  "Oh, before you go. Is there anything in particular you want me to look for at the meeting?"

  "I'll explain when you get here." No good-bye, he just hung up the phone.

  Well, if I'm going to make lunch with Sam before I leave, I'd better hurry up.

  12 A.M.

  Lunch with Sam. Dinner with Azir. It's been one hell of a strange day.

  Met Sam for lunch at Lulu's in the middle of his first day back at work. He sat at a booth and had iced tea waiting for me.

  I love Lulu's. It smells like fresh bread, carrot cake and hamburgers. Ms. Johnnie and Ms. Helen, who run the cafe, have lived a lot of life, and are some of the best cooks I've ever known.

  Sam wore jeans and a blue and white striped button-down. You could take the prep out of Harvard, but couldn't get the Harvard out of the prep. He'd only recently traded his khakis for jeans. I thought it a great accomplishment—mostly because his ass looks really good in a pair of button-fly Levi's.

  Every time I see him, my heart does that funny flutter thing. I've never been in love like this, and it's still kind of weird for me. In a good way.

  I kissed Sam and touched his cheek. He looked sallow and tired around his beautiful blue eyes. The fact that he suffered made me want to kill that warlock who had attacked him all over again.

  I knew better than to ask him how he felt. Two months ago when he opened his eyes after days in a coma, he made me promise to never ask that question. He pushed himself so hard in physical therapy that he proved the surgeons who said he wouldn't be able to walk for at least a year wrong.

  Sam used a cane, propped next to him in the booth, but he walked just fine.

  "So how is the first day back at work?" I poured sugar into my tea and gave it a stir.

  "Hectic, but great." His smile still made my stomach flip-flop. "Lots of heat rash and sunburn for the most part. So it hasn't been that difficult of a day. I'm still not used to being on my feet so much. But it's all good."

  Ms. Johnnie, who looked adorable in strawberry colored Capri pants and matching T-shirt, stopped by to take our order. Rumor had it that she would be turning seventy in a few months, but you'd never know it by the way she dressed and hopped around the restaurant like an athlete on steroids.

  We agreed on turkey sandwiches and vinegar chips. Nothing too heavy for hot days like this.

  "Um." I picked at the corners of my paper napkin. "I need to tell you something and I think it best if I just come out and say it."

  "Okay." He frowned.

  "I've got to fly to New York tonight."

  "Okay, and this is bad because?"

  "Well, it's my first time to leave Sweet since—" I blew out a breath.

  "The accident?" He added.

  "Yes, and well, the prime minister called and asked if I would please come, and I've turned down the last few jobs."

  "What do you mean, you turned down jobs? I never asked you to do any such thing. Bronywn, what's going on?"

  "Well, you were so sick and I couldn't leave. And I love you," I said in a rush. "Wait, that came out wrong. I love you and I didn't want to be away. Not because you were sick, but because I love you. Crap."

  I'm so bad at this man thing. Just the worst.

  He chuckled.

  "I think I understand, and I appreciate all of your tender loving care the past few months. There were many days when I'm not certain I could have made it without you, but I never meant for you to give up your job to help me out. I love you too." He took my hand.

  His touch always reassures me. I love the strength of him. The kindness of his soul has touched me since the day we met.

  I squeezed his fingers. "I know."

  "You said the prime minister would be there. Who else?"

  I swallowed. "Oh, you know. The regular dignitaries, that musician Zane. People like that."

  "Will Azir be there?" There was a hint of an edge in his voice.

  I'd been staring with great intent at his hand holding mine and I raised my eyes to meet his.

  "Yes."

  "And you were nervous about telling me?"

  "A little."

  "He's your friend, and he's in love with you. I can't say it doesn't bother me, but I can live with it if you can." He let go of my hand and looked at his watch.

  "I've got to get back to the office." He pushed himself up with one hand on the table and grabbed the cane.

  I stood and kissed him. "Sam," I whispered against his lips.

  "It really is okay, Bron. I just need to go. And so do you. It's time for you to go. What we have is real and we both have to learn to trust it. I'll be here when you come back."

  "I'll call you when I get to New York."

  I started to walk away and he grabbed my hand. Pulling me tight to his chest, he kissed me so hard that, eight hours later, I can still feel the imprint of his lips.

  See, that's the thing with Sam. He sticks with me more than anyone I've ever met. I handed my heart to him a few months ago, and it's been the scariest, most wonderful thing I ever did.

  Had I known when the prime minister invited me to dinner tonight that Azir would be there, I think I would have passed. I hadn't been ready to see him again. Oh, the meal went well.

  We all chatted about world affairs and who would be there the next day. The prime minister believes that this Zane guy is going to bring a great deal of attention to the cause.

  We were in the VIP section of the restaurant, on the second level. The couples downstairs celebrated anniversaries and birthdays over candlelit dinners with the cream-colored tablecloths, and bottles of champagne in neat silver cylinders.

  But everything seemed so weird. I'm not sure what I expected. Maybe for Azir to give me longing looks throughout the meal. I couldn't keep from sneaking glances every once in a while. He was dressed in Hugo Boss pinstripes.

  His dark brown eyes, framed with those deadly long lashes, barely registered my presence. And he gave no indication that he had any interest in me at all. Well, in that way.

  Strictly professional.

  I guess that's a good thing, since I'm with Sam now.

  I'd dressed up for dinner in a long black skirt, four-inch Manolos Mom gave me and a red wrap top. I reasoned that I wanted to look nice because of the strict dress code of the five-star restaurant. But in some twisted, womanly way, I also
wanted to impress the sheik.

  There. I said it. I wanted him to notice me.

  That's just sick.

  Two months ago he told me he loved me. Then he left town, and I hadn't heard a peep since. And I thought, "Good riddance." I didn't need the complication.

  And then tonight when he didn't really seem to notice me, my ego deflated. I have to stop. I'm not going through all of that again.

  He wants to keep things on a professional level, and I should be grateful.

  But at the end of the night, when I shook his hand, the sparks flew between us. Just for an instant when we touched he looked in my eyes, and I was lost. He smelled like sandalwood.

  No, Bronwyn. Bad girl.

  Azir bad. Sam good.

  Easy peasy. No need to get all crazy again.

  Take a big breath, old girl, and just get over yourself.

  He's moved on. I've moved on.

  Crap, who would knock on the door at this hour?

  I sent my mind past the wards to take a peek.

  Azir?

  * * *

  Chapter Two

  Manhattan

  Potions: 5

  Charms: 3

  Spells: 5

  Sexy rock stars:

  I've spent the last few hours putting wards on everyone's rooms. The Gansevoort Hotel is a small boutique hotel, which is good for our purposes. The less people around, the better.

  It isn't my style, but I love the sleek modern look of the rooms with their big plasma televisions.

  Also gave Azir and the prime minister new charms laced with primrose. In the old days primrose was used to keep the fairies out of the house. With a decent spell it works well against all evil.