Bad Luck Genie: An Urban Fantasy Folly Page 9

  “It was an accident.” I crouched to my knees to help her.

  She pushed me away with a firm hand. “Stay back—you’ll hurt us both.”

  I was five all over again. I swallowed and scooted back. Now I understood how right she was. No wonder she’d always had a short temper with me. Mags summoned a dustpan, swept up the vase shards, and disposed of them.

  I gaped. She used magic right in front of me.

  “How did you do that?” I asked.

  “Oh, I store that sort of stuff in my bottle for easy access,” Mags said. “Thank the glass I didn’t get rid of them like I did the plastic covers.”

  Malware scraped a hand through his short hair. “You can store an unlimited amount of things in your bottle and summon them at need. That’s how you got your phone. You must’ve really wanted it.”

  A thought occurred to me, and a slow grin spread over my face. “You mean I could store all my shoes in there and still have room for more?”

  Malware chuckled. I liked how it sounded, and the pure amusement on his face was even sexier than his glares. He scowled at me, and my heart raced. I was definitely in trouble. I averted my eyes and forced my thoughts to my rainbow of Chucks. There was a new shade of burgundy I’d seen the last time I went shoe shopping. I had the space now. But the bottle…

  “You never have to worry about being homeless when you have a bottle,” Mom said, oblivious to my ordeal.

  I shuddered. “No. I’m not going back in there.”

  “Of course she wouldn’t,” Mags mumbled under her breath. Her eyes widened.

  “Is it my bad luck that makes you say these things?” I snapped.

  “Lucy, don’t take it personally.” Mags straightened. “I love you and I’m glad you’re free, I really am. But you know the saying… this is why we can’t have nice things.”

  I sighed heavily and hugged myself, fighting with her wasn’t worth the energy. I peeked at Mom. “So, you think one of Rasputin’s bones will make me normal?”

  “I certainly do.” Mom stood. “But we need to hurry. Sigvald has plans for that bone.”

  “I can’t be a party to this.” Malware shook his head. “So, here’s what I can suggest: one of you tears the bond between us, and I don’t mention Lucy’s undocumented or that you’re in league with a dark djinni.”

  I saw the moment Mom noticed the djinni silk connecting Malware to me. It seemed to grow more opaque the longer she stared at it. It might’ve been my imagination, though. I slumped on the sofa and grimaced, replaying the moment the djinni silk snapped out of me and latched onto Mal. I’d meant to mock him, not link him to me, to my thoughts. I wished I could take those words back.

  Mama Bear glared at Mal. “What did you trick my daughter into, lightlighter?”

  “Me?” His dark eyes widened. “She did this! She did all of it.”

  “I was only being ironic when I said at least we weren’t bound together,” I mumbled.

  Mom groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose.

  “Lucy.” Mags glowered at me. “What did I tell you about sarcasm? This is exactly what happens with that.”

  “But I’m always sarcastic,” I breathed.

  “I tried.” Mags shook her head and threw her hands in the air. “I tried to guide her along a path of conscientiousness and plain speaking, but she is determined to have a bard’s tongue with triple meanings and sly insults.”

  “If only I had known,” I hissed. “If only you’d explained to me why, then none of this would’ve happened. Probably. At least I would’ve known my sarcasm had power, and I would’ve tried to watch my mouth.” I gripped my elbows and turned away from her.

  I stood and paced behind the couch. In a blink of an eye, I dissolved into a little girl having a tantrum over her grandma. I met Malware’s gaze, my ears heating at what I could only assume he thought of me. He tipped his chin. That didn’t feel like censure.

  “Listen, there’s a curse dealer in downtown Omaha.” Mom waved at the djinni silk. “He can help with this.”

  “Good.” Malware squared his shoulders. “Let’s get this over with now, and I’ll forget all about it.”

  Chapter 12

  Mom drove like a bat out of hell. It was something Dad used to tease her about. We all did. If you wanted to arrive before you left, you let her drive. After I slammed against the car door for the third time, I tugged my seatbelt on. Malware noticed from the backseat and clicked his on too.

  “Did you go to this curse dealer about me?” The car felt smaller and the air a little thinner with the seatbelt on.

  “We went to a few—Get out of the way!” She darted into the next lane.

  All the vehicles felt too close. I white-knuckled the oh-shit handle. “So this must be a pretty nasty curse then.”

  “Curses from Unseelie fae tend to be.” Malware’s voice sounded strained.

  I glanced at him. He seemed more nervous now than when he was being shot at. He gripped the back of the driver’s seat, eyes glued ahead. Mom swerved around a semi hauling pigs, and the driver honked at us.

  “Don’t teach your grandma how to suck eggs!” she called back, then muttered, “I’ve been driving well before he was ever born.”

  I tilted my head and nearly cracked it against the window as she took the off-ramp. “Reese said I’m immortal. Is that true?”

  “In a sense,” Malware said. “The fae are immortal, and the djinni have a natural longevity because—”

  “Sheesh!” Mom braked hard at a stoplight. “The more time you spend in the bottle, the less you age. Your dad and I only look like we’re old enough to be your parents because we didn’t sleep in our bottles. That stopped after you graduated high school.”

  “Iron kills fae, and gold would kill us, right?” I asked.

  She gave me a tight-lipped nod.

  “Ah, so when Mal said to relax when we were being shot at, he was telling the truth?”

  Mom glared into the rearview mirror. “You got my baby shot at?”

  He jerked his hands in the air like she’d pointed a weapon at him.

  I laughed a little. Mama Bear mode always made people nervous. Except Reese. That should’ve been a sign he was an idiot. My bottle popped into my lap in a puff of dark blue smoke. I yelped.

  “Lucy!” Mom glared at me and pulled onto a street riddled with road construction. “That’s your bottle? Have I taught you no shame?”

  I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached. I hadn’t known I was a djinni until Reese. They never once told me how racist the term genie was, not that I ever talked about it as a kid—I wanted to be a witch-chef in kindergarten—so how the hell was I supposed to know I Dream of Jeannie was degrading?

  Mal leaned between the seats. I got a whiff of hot sun and baked sand and a peek down his shirt. He was ripped. “Reese made her dress up like a genie before he shackled her. She probably had the show on her mind and couldn’t help how her bottle appeared.” He buttoned his shirt and turned his gorgeous face toward me, arching a dark brow. “Mal? You’re shortening my name?”

  “I can’t call you Malware. It’s too silly.”

  “Not entirely silly, honeybee.” Mom craned her neck to see around a large truck at a stoplight. “He’s a spy and blends in to the point I forget he’s around.”

  I shook my head. I’d noticed him. Even when I hadn’t registered how attractive he was, I’d known he was there. He had a presence about him, filled the space he was in, and… well, I felt safe around him. But he was also a dick about a lot of things, so he grated my nerves.

  “Maybe I’m such a dick because I can hear what you’re thinking.” He jerked back in his seat when Mom hit the gas. He folded his arms. “Mal implies we’re friends.”

  I hunched my shoulders. “I’ll be sure not to make that mistake again.”

  Mom glanced at the djinni silk and shook her head. “Reese made you dress up like a genie. If he wasn’t already crapping in a colostomy bag, I’d tear him limb from limb.
No one puts my baby in harem pants.” She pulled into a parking lot, hit a large pot hole, and parked on the line. “What was his wish, anyway?”

  I sighed heavily. “His first wish was to go back in time, but that wasn’t possible. So he wanted to be financially secure for the rest of his life. Then I said he’d be well taken care of.”

  The color drained from Mom’s face, making the spray of freckles over her nose stark. “That’s how he got into that accident.”

  “The bottle is powered by the type of magic the djinni has.” Malware unbuckled and climbed out of the car. “C’mon. Let’s go see this curse dealer.”

  Mom and I linked elbows, and we threaded through the foot traffic on a sidewalk peppered with old bubblegum and cigarette butts. The wind had a cold sting, and I was glad to be in normal clothing and out of that tiny car. I hadn’t noticed how much I disliked tight spaces when I was in Malware’s car. Probably because I was distracted by a high-speed chase, but being back in the open made me wonder if I had a little bit of claustrophobia. Nah. I couldn’t have just developed it, could I? We sidestepped a lady towing a cart filled with shopping bags, walked around the legs of an old white man begging for money, and eventually stopped in front of a store called Valley of Kings. Something about that name nagged at me.

  The bell jingled above as Mom opened the door, and we entered the shop. Inside, there was a life-sized statue of Anubis, tie-dyed wall tapestries of pot leaves, hookahs lining a shelf at the far end, and a counter displaying a variety of knives, jewelry, and shisha. Several incense sticks burned, their pungent smoke threatening a headache. A middle-age beanpole white man in a tie-dyed shirt smiled and nodded at us.

  Mom approached the counter. “We’re here to see Rexsaphal.”

  The man’s brows shot up, and he pointed down a hallway behind the counter. “Oh sure, dudes. He’s in the hookah room. Hey, would you like to buy your own shisha?”

  “I don’t smoke,” I said.

  Mom nudged me. “It’s business, so we won’t be here for that long.”

  “Sure.” His head bobbed to a song I couldn’t hear. “Sure. Right on. Enjoy.”

  I followed Mom down a short hallway with two rooms. One had an “employees only” sign, and the other was a beaded curtain with vanilla and mint smoke wafting from within. A large hookah with six hoses sat in the middle of a sea of faded blue and beige beanbag chairs. A plump man with stringy brown hair and a four-day-old beard sat alone, sucking on a nozzle.

  He blew a plume of smoke at us. “Friends! Sit and relax with me.”

  Eyes watering, I fanned the smoke from my face and sat on the nearest beanbag. Mom and Malware opted to stand. I scanned the room. There were posters of pyramids, a glass-front mini-fridge filled with kombucha and Mountain Dew, a Xeroxed sign that said “No Cursing!”, and an array of little Buddha incense holders—thankfully none were burning.

  Plumpy unhooked a hose and handed it to me, his eyes lighting on my chest. “Say… that’s a very special necklace you have on. Do you ever think of selling it? I can offer you a pretty penny for it.”

  I took the hose but didn’t stick the nozzle in my mouth, not after seeing his brown teeth. Instead, I clutched my pendant. “Not for sale.”

  “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He sat back and sucked on the hose, the water gurgling in the hookah's base. He blew smoke at the ceiling. “What can I do you fine folks for?”

  “Can you tear djinni silk, Rexsaphal?” Mom asked.

  “Please, call me Rex.” He grinned. “Djinni silk, huh? Depends on the spell’s strength, but I can usually tear it.”

  It clicked why Valley of Kings sounded familiar. This was Rex. The asshole who sold the gold bracelets to Reese which trapped me in a bottle. I snarled and lunged for him, tipping the hookah over. Rex lumbered to his feet, squealing as hot coals smoldered on one of his stupid beanbags. He grabbed the glass base, twisted the stem off, and dumped nasty hookah water on the beanbag.

  “Watch what you’re doing, you klutz!” Rex yelled.

  I scrambled to my feet. “You’re the asshole who sold Reese the gold bracelets!”

  Mama Bear bared her teeth. Malware stood next to me, arms folded and stance wide. Rex stiffened. The beanbag began smoldering again since the water hadn’t fully doused the hookah coals.

  “I sell a lot of jewelry.” He staggered to the fridge, grabbed a water bottle, and fished the coal from the chair with a pair of tongs.

  “You told him how to trap a djinni!” I lurched for him again, tripping over his furniture, and we toppled to the ground.

  The smoking coal dropped onto the floor and sparked, catching the floor on fire. Mom snatched the water bottle from Rex, upended it on the coal, and stomped the fire out.

  I straddled Rex’s pudgy body and slapped him. “He sold me!”

  “I can’t blame him!” Rex bellowed. “I saw Reese after you were done with him.”

  He bounced me off him and I thudded onto the floor.

  Mom stepped on Rex’s chest and pinned him. “He didn’t know djinni existed until you told him the truth behind her gold allergy.”

  “You broke canon with The Lantern.” Malware helped me to my feet. “I’ll have to take you to the Summer Court for the director to hand out punishment.” His smile was all threats. “And you know no one ever comes back from that.”

  “How was I supposed to know she hadn’t told him she was a djinni? He knew about gold!” Rex blubbered.

  Mama Bear growled low in her throat. “You idiot! Never assume.”

  My bottle took that moment to materialize in my hands. Rex’s eyes went wide, then he threw his head back and howled with laughter.

  My face grew hot, and it felt like my ribs were squeezing my lungs closed. I needed to hide and never show my face again. Rex still laughed, and Mom gaped at me. If only she and Dad had told me what I was, who I was, I could’ve avoided making a mockery of myself. If Rex hadn’t told Reese about djinnis, they would’ve had time to tell me. My arms shook, and I wanted to set fire to his place on purpose this time.

  I jabbed a finger at him. “I hope your crotch becomes infested with a thousand fleas!” My teeth chattered, and a warm buzz filled my chest. I felt a little better, now that I’d yelled at him. And a little tired. I puffed out a breath.

  Malware took a step away from me, his upturned eyes widening. He peered at Rex. Mom lifted her boot and watched him curiously.

  Rex groaned and clambered to his feet, pointing at the sign. “Can’t you read?”

  “What? I didn’t swear.” I set my bottle on top of the mini-fridge.

  “You cursed me! The sign says, ‘No cursing!’ ” Rex shifted his pants roughly. “Get out.”

  “Not until you tear the djinni silk bond,” Malware said.

  “She cursed me. I don’t have to.”

  “All right, then you’re coming with me to the Summer Court.” Malware dug into his pocket and flashed a button that looked like it belonged to his dinner jacket. “This opens a door to the Faelands. Let’s go.”

  Mom froze, her eyes riveted on the button.

  “Wait! Wait. It was an honest mistake about the bracelets.” Rex faced me. “He said you two were getting married and complained about not being able to afford a ring for you. I thought you guys just needed some help by the way of wishes in the meantime. Selling you was a step too far across the line.”

  I glared. “But apparently tricking me into a bottle was okay?”

  “So Reese is an asshole. I made a bad call on his character.”

  “You weren’t the only one.” Mom’s expression held too many accusations. “Engagement ring, Lucy?”

  I shook my head. “Never got one.”

  “We’ll talk about this later.”

  “Why? It’s not like I got married without telling you, or you know, hid a secret life from you.”

  Her lips clamped into a tight line.

  Malware cleared his throat. “Here’s the deal, Rexsaphal.
You tear the djinni silk between us, and I forget that you sell djinni shackles.”

  Rex grimaced and scratched the front of his pants as he examined the djinni silk connecting me to Malware. The silk grew more opaque the more everyone stared at us. It wrapped around me like a corset, and a sash around Malware. Djinni silk must’ve been invented by a man. Typical. Rex held the length of it, and I swear his slimy personality oozed along our link.

  I slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch it.”

  He curled his lip at me. “How else do you propose I tear it?” He gripped the silk again.

  Malware slid an arm around my waist. If he offered me comfort because I was disgusted with this slime ball touching our djinni silk, then maybe he was repulsed, too. I draped my arm around his waist, hoping he knew I wasn’t trying to put the moves on him. He squeezed me.

  “Curse magic.” Rex met my eyes as he shoved one hand down the front of his pants and scratched. “You must’ve done this. It’s strong.”

  “We know it’s strong,” Malware drawled.

  “It’s complicated, too,” Rex said.

  “Get your hand out of your pants while you talk to my daughter.” Mom stood on my other side. “How complicated is it?”

  Rex pulled his hand out and reached for the silk, but Malware knocked that hand away before it could touch our link.

  “It’s based on a chain of one spell.” Rex shoved his gross hand in his pocket. “The spell is a distress call, a strong plea for help. And it was willingly given. Though… a part of it was a mistake. Ah… it’s a one-way link, at least. Not an entire soul bind, so it can be torn.”

  I had a bad feeling he couldn’t do it, and kept my mouth shut. But at least I didn’t do a soul bind, right? I needed a silver lining, otherwise I’d be too depressed to do anything.

  “How long will it take for you to tear it?” Mom asked.

  “The magic is too strong.” Rex glared at me. “Guess we’re both going to have to find a more powerful curse dealer to break your magic, aren’t we?”

  The blood drained from Mom’s face.

  My stomach hollowed out. “Y-you can tell I did it?”