Bad Luck Genie: An Urban Fantasy Folly Read online

  Reese set the bottle on the coffee table next to my phone. “Rex said it’s a genie thing. You kept this from me, and you could’ve helped me sooner.”

  “I’m not a genie!” But the bottle said otherwise. How could I not know this about myself? I don’t know how, but I had the distinct feeling that if I really wasn’t a genie, then I wouldn’t be in golden chains right now, and Reese and I would be having a normal fight about wasting money on jewelry.

  “Wait a minute.” I wheezed in a breath. “You were looking to buy me an engagement ring, but decided to chain me instead?”

  “You’re immortal now, according to Rex.” Reese waved a hand dismissively. “I need to figure out what to wish for. Irresistible to women might be a good idea, but…” He leered at me.

  I wanted to shower off his filthy gaze. Instead, I straightened, mimicking the bottle. “The bottle does not permit you to use me for sex stuff.” The bottle didn’t overwhelm me to correct myself, but that didn’t mean I was right, either.

  “Your eyes didn’t glow when you said that.” Reese smirked.

  I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling naked. “If you’re so concerned about getting laid, why don’t you try taking a shower once in a while?”

  He snapped his fingers. “I know! I wish to go back in time and change my bet from Hoof Hearted to Mystery Count. That race really fucked me over.”

  My spine stiffened, and once more the bottle overwhelmed me. “Time is a linear construct for humans.”

  He pointed at me. “See? Now I believe you when you say that.” He rubbed his mouth. “Which means I just need to go for the obvious wish, doesn’t it? I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Glee lit up his blue eyes and he rubbed his hands together. “Genie, I wish to have so much money that I won’t have to work for the rest of my life.”

  Indignant fire snapped through my limbs, igniting my anger. Power sparked to life in my chest, zapped into my legs, and ratcheted up the vertebrae of my spine like electricity. The fine hairs on my body rose and my skin pimpled. Plopping my hands on my hips, I narrowed my eyes. “Oh, you’ll be well taken care of for life. Wish granted.”

  Blue energy crackled out of me and arced around us until it smacked Reese right in the forehead. He blinked but didn’t fall on his ass like I’d hoped. I felt drained, like I’d just spent an all-nighter on my feet chopping onions back in culinary school. All I wanted to do was to cry myself to sleep. I edged for my phone on the coffee table and scooped it up. I could call 911 for help.

  “That’s it?” Reese pulled out the wad of twenties and fanned it. The rest of the bills were ones. He’d lied about that, too. “I don’t feel any different.”

  Hiding my phone behind my back, I curled my lip. “Maybe you need to buy a lottery ticket.”

  “Oh.” He chuckled. “Good point. Back into the bottle with you, Genie. Daddy’s got a ticket to buy.”

  The blue wind dervish swept me up and sucked me back inside the bottle. I dropped to my hands and knees in front of the pole as my phone slid away. Reese’s annoying whistling muffled, he turned off the lights and walked out the door.

  Scrambling to my phone, I pressed the home button. No signal. Of course there wasn’t any signal. I hunched over, choking on a sob. I was so lost. I’d loved Reese, I truly had. I thought he had loved me back, but he did this to me instead. I’d trusted him with my heart, my truths, and my fears. I’d believed he’d stay beside me and we’d support each other as a married couple. Instead he’d tricked me into a bottle. His betrayal appalled me. How could I have been so wrong about someone for so long?

  The glass walls closed in on me, and I couldn’t breathe. And how did I not know I was a genie? Were my parents genies too? But no, that couldn’t be right. They would’ve told me and warned me about people like Reese. They would’ve told me. I must have a freak mutation in my DNA or something. How could I not know this about myself? My chest hitched and my ears rang. I was all alone, trapped in a small space growing tinier with each breath. I buried my face in my hands and wept.

  Time moved at a pace I didn’t understand. One moment I blinked, and the next the landlord was letting police officers into the apartment.

  “Lucy Avalon?” a police woman called.

  From where my bottle sat on the coffee table, I watched them look in the bathroom, then the bedroom. I pounded on the glass, but they didn’t hear me and soon left. Time passed. I watched the sun set and rise through a fog of purple-painted glass, and my prison closed in on me with each breath.

  Reese’s mother, Tammy, walked in, jarring me from my trance. I peered out the apartment window; the trees were dropping leaves. My heart scrambled around in my chest. What was going on? The leaves were only beginning to change color when Reese trapped me. She said something, but it was too muffled for me to make out her words, and she left with a bag over her shoulder.

  The door rattled again, and I opened my eyes. A glance out the apartment window showed the trees laden with snow. Movers walked in and Tammy directed them into packing my belongings. They tossed my prized collection of Chucks in every shade of the rainbow into the living room where my bottle rested.

  “Hey! Those are mine!” I pounded on the glass, the chains ringing with each blow.

  Tammy shoved a few boxes from the bedroom to the living room. “The cookbooks and pizza peels need to be packed, too.”

  “Right.” A mover checked a clipboard. “Confirm the address please.”

  Tammy rattled off an address in Papillion, Nebraska.

  “That’s my grandma’s house!” I yelled. “My pizza stone’s in the oven, and pack the bottle! Come on, pack the bottle!”

  Tammy sat on the couch and observed the movers. I studied her. She looked bone-weary and heartbroken. I wondered what Reese had done to her. He’d always been a dick to his parents. After they packed up my kitchen gadgets, she left with the movers. The bottle impressed upon me that I could do anything I wanted within it. That I was potent with magic and power. But how? This was a tiny, cold prison. An empty space growing smaller with each wheezing breath. I fell into another trance.

  “I summon you, Genie.”

  The blue dust devil spat me out of the bottle. At least I landed on my feet, and I could finally breathe without feeling like the walls were closing in with each inhale. Reese sat in a wheelchair before me. His straggly hair brushed past his shoulders, and freshly healed scars covered his gaunt face. What the hell happened? I glanced out the front window. The sun shone in that tentative way it did when it could be warm, but the wind was too sharp to let it be so. The trees were budding. I placed a shaking hand on my forehead.

  “What the fuck did you do to me?” Reese growled.

  Blood pounded in my ears. I’d never wanted to hurt anyone before, yet I wanted to claw out his eyes. But somehow I knew the bottle wouldn’t permit me to hurt him. “Me? I granted your fucking wish, asshole!”

  “You cursed me!”

  The bottle reacted in a way that implied this wasn’t exactly a lie, but it was also within the parameters of the contract. Was I obligated to say so? Since I didn’t feel the urge to speak, I shrugged. “You betrayed me.”

  “Betrayed? I drove out to get a ticket like you suggested. The CEO of Sober Life plowed into my car, Lucy! I was in a coma for three months! I can’t feel my dick. I have to use a colostomy bag for the rest of my life.”

  I gasped, looking him over again. Sober Life was a Fortune 500 company that ran many rehab clinics such as Green Pastures, Rolling Brooke, and other similar names I’d use to tell a kid their rabbit was in a better place. Part of me felt awful for what he’d been through. No wonder Tammy had seemed so sad and worried when they packed up my things. A glance down the hall confirmed Reese’s belongings remained. As I approached him, the golden chains rang as they dragged on the floor behind me. Oh, right. He’d dumped me and enslaved me. Any sympathy I felt for him vanished. “The CEO of Sober Life?”

  “Yeah. He was drunk.” His lips twisted
into a smirk. “I’ve got a lifetime of settlement checks, but they don’t help me. I need that money now.”

  “Call JG Wentworth.”

  “Oh, no.” Reese back-wheeled clumsily. “I’m not taking any more of your advice.”

  Someone pounded on the door. A jolt of adrenaline ran through my body and I exhaled sharply, my eyes darting to the door. Help had arrived. I gulped in a breath to scream.

  “Get back in the bottle,” Reese whispered.

  I didn’t want to go back in, but the bottle sucked me up like a vacuum would a dust bunny. Reese opened the door and wheeled himself back. A tall man with a square jaw and bricks for fists entered. He looked like a hitman for the mafia, but I somehow knew without question he was like me.

  “The Boss heard you were discharged last week and sent me here to collect,” the man said.

  “I don’t have a lot of money right now.” Reese wiped his forehead with a shaking hand. “Most of the first settlement went to purchasing medical equipment.”

  “You’re six months behind on your payments.”

  Six months? But Reese had said he’d been in a coma for three. His money problems had been going on longer than I’d realized. I was such an idiot.

  Reese shrugged. “I’m telling you, I don’t—”

  “Is that a jenny bottle?” The man pointed right at me.

  I blinked. Had he called me Jenny or was I mishearing something?

  “Oh.” Reese laughed nervously. “You recognize that?”

  “Whoever conjured the bottle has poor taste, but yes. I know what it is. Who’s in there?”

  “Er… a genie?”

  The man glared at Reese. I thought he might punch him. I hoped he would. The man picked up my bottle. He spun it in his hands, but his hands didn’t squeak on the glass like Reese’s the first night, nor was I flung around.

  “Hmm, only one wish has been granted. Impressive. Who’s in the bottle, Lane? Do you know their name?”

  “Yeah, it’s my—The genie goes by Lucy Avalon.”

  There was a pregnant pause. Reese sweated profusely.

  “Avalon?” the man asked, his voice a touch louder and higher-pitched.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m allowed to make certain exceptions to your debt, Lane,” the man said. “This jenny would go towards it if you give up your mastery over the bottle.”

  The bottle confirmed it was me, but what was a jenny? If ears could squint, mine would. I didn’t think I was hearing him correctly. Wait, wait, wait! Why was this dude excited by my last name? My breathing quickened like I’d puke, so I took long, slow breaths until the feeling subsided.

  Reese’s shoulders straightened. “Really? How much?”

  “All of it.”

  “Well, fuck. Yes. I give up my mastery over the bottle.”

  “A wise move, Mr. Lane.” The man paused before the door. “If this jenny turns out to be a genuine Avalon, your lifetime ban from Horsemen’s Park is reduced to a year. See you again soon.”

  My stomach fluttered as I tipped my head back and closed my eyes, waiting for the bottle to spit me out. I shook my hands, but the chains remained. I frowned and cracked an eye open. I wasn’t free. Maybe Reese hadn’t done it right. I tugged, but nothing happened. The bottle seemed to apologize to me, but I didn’t understand why.

  Chapter 4

  I summoned my bottle and retrieved the super-sized orders of Big Macs, French fries, and Diet Cokes, placing them in front of the fae like some kind of sugar addict smorgasbord. The fae pounced on it. The Pit Boss usually had me running errands into the Iron Realm for McDonald’s or KFC. I couldn’t believe how many fae were hooked to fast food. Speaking of, I needed to make my last delivery. I headed toward the door leading to Gamblers’ Road.

  In the last two months since I became employed by the Pit Boss, he had made me into an errand boy. Food suddenly appearing delighted the guests, like it was a new fancy service. Nope. It was only me placing a Whopper next to them while they played their game of stakes with deranged currency. The inside of my bottle smelled like grease and fries. I didn’t know if it’d ever go away.

  Shifting to smoke, I zigzagged between multi-colored djinni dervishes and fae. I’d thought traffic to L.A. was bad, but this was a completely different level. I should’ve been opening the door to the Luxor Casino in seconds, not minutes later. My ears popped as I stepped into a room on the Lantern side. The room was electric, just like the Lantern expressway, and the colors flashed back and forth to a silent beat.

  The Pit Boss stepped in front of me. “You’re just in time, Kedge. This game requires security, but I’ve been requested to oversee a covenant.”

  I’d chosen Kedge as my alias as a loose connection to security. Maybe it was finally paying off. The high-pitched tinkle of a pixie’s pained cry tied my shoulders in knots. Or maybe I was convenient.

  “Sure thing, Boss.” I summoned the bag of Olive Garden breadsticks and placed it on the table. The pile of dismembered wings made my stomach burn.

  The electric windows pulsed purple and pink while a Fall Court fae and a Winter Court fae gorged on breadsticks, flipping over cards until one set matched and they entered a battle for the cards. Each time one of them won a war, the other player’s pixie lost a wing, and they had dozens of pixies and twice as many wings. I tried to convince myself it was the flashing windows that made me feel sick. The pixie was so tiny, I couldn’t tell if they were a man or a woman, or even fully grown. But without their wings, they’d die soon. I swallowed down the bile and promised I’d never forget any of them.

  The atmosphere was tense inside the speakeasy connected to Caesar’s Palace. Orpheus, a Summer Court fae, played against Dream, a sandman djinni. Or perhaps in this case a sandwoman. Either way, her innate power allowed her to place people into a deep sleep that lasted centuries. Since that game of war and pixie wings four months ago, overseeing a poker game with a hostile djinni and a conniving Summer Court fae was the bright spot of my day.

  For a total of six months, I’d witnessed fae gamble for all manners of freakish things: fingernails, Valkyrie feathers, and even a Frankie Avalon lucky charm. Most of that was illegal, and I kept my mouth shut. Breaking up fights and throwing a few punches was the only way I could take out my frustration. I was sure the Pit Boss was testing me.

  “You’re a fucking cheater,” Dream snarled.

  Orpheus quirked an impossibly blond brow and tilted his head at the dealer. “You wouldn’t have slipped me that jack on purpose, would you?”

  The dealer rolled his eyes. “No, sir.”

  “So you see, Dream. I didn’t cheat.” Orpheus leaned back in his chair and grinned.

  She raked her hand through her lavender bob. “That was everything.”

  “Oh, you borrowed against the house.” Orpheus’s lips made a sympathetic mien.

  “You put me in debt with the Pit Boss.”

  “I did no such thing, sweet Dream. You insisted to continue.” He rubbed his chin. “You know… we could help each other here.”

  “You’ve got everything. What else do you want?”

  “I need someone to sleep indefinitely,” Orpheus said.

  When a fae said “sleep indefinitely,” it didn’t mean death. They didn’t kill each other—that was considered barbaric.

  Dream scoffed and shook her head. “I could put someone under for a few centuries tops, but that’s it.”

  The Summer Court fae flashed a row of even, white teeth, retrieved a pair of gold shackles from inside his coat, and placed them on the table. “But you could put them under indefinitely if you wore these, couldn’t you?”

  It wasn’t illegal for a fae to place djinni shackles down as an all-or-nothing bet. Fae were our leaders, and they knew best. My heart thudded heavily against my chest as I drifted closer to the players. None of them noticed me, and that was fine. I was more concerned about Dream. The shit would hit the fan if she attacked Orpheus.

  Dream lowered her hands
to her hips and clutched a knife. “You want me to trade my freedom to wipe my debt clean?”

  Orpheus gestured grandly. “Or, we could mate and you give me the child. I’m a patient man.”

  “Why not capture a human and mate with it instead?”

  “Humans are beneath me.”

  She became impossibly still. “You’d bottle your own child to grant you a wish.”

  Orpheus shrugged. “The long-term goal outweighs the trivial means by any which way I can get it.”

  “You’re disgusting!” Dream lunged, striking toward the fae with the knife.

  I launched across the table and caught her wrist before she could strike Orpheus. The dealer flinched, cards scattering across the surface. He groped under his chair, probably signaling the Pit Boss there was a problem. Dream gaped at me while Orpheus began chuckling.

  The fae applauded. “Well done. I almost thought she’d cut me. Then I could’ve shackled her without the pretense of this game.”

  I pried the knife from her fingers and stepped back. I examined the silver blade and slowly released my pent up breath. Had it been iron, Dream’s freedom would’ve ended even if she hadn’t scratched Orpheus, and he’d use any excuse to get what he wanted tonight.

  The door opened and closed, and the Pit Boss stopped beside me. He assessed the situation, his gaze straying on the shackles, and raised a brow at the knife. “No blows landed, Kedge?”

  I placed the knife in the Pit Boss’s hand. “None.”

  “Good.” He studied me. “Why don’t you head over to the Flamingo? A couple boggarts have a pissing match going on that could use your type of security. I’ll oversee things here. Make sure there isn’t any cheating.”

  I stepped onto Gamblers’ Road, shifted to smoke, and navigated the heavy traffic toward the Flamingo. I worked my jaw to pop my ears as I hurried into the casino. Double-checking no one paid attention to me, I opened the side of a penny machine and stepped into the secret rooms of the Flamingo.