“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jenna almost shouted at Riddick. Pru pretended to read over her lines.
Riddick smiled. “What? I needed a lot of luck.”
“Did you forget that my boyfriend is a Jinni? He heard you kiss me. He heard all the… wetness.”
Riddick continued smiling. “Yeah, it was nice. We should do that more often.” He smirked. “You seemed to enjoy it. Didn’t fight me off.”
Jenna pointed a cautious finger at him. “I’m serious, Riddick. You don’t wanna mess with Malcolm. He can hurt you.”
Riddick’s smirk disappeared. He snarled at her. “Some boyfriend you’ve got, Jen. When he gets jealous, he kills.”
She put her hands on her hips, frustrated. “I didn’t say he’d kill you.”
He advanced toward her, their faces inches apart. “He’s a demon, Jen. It’s in his blood. And one day, he’s gonna snap.” Riddick struck his fingers near her face for emphasis, causing her to slightly jump. “And you’ll wish you never slept with the enemy.”
“I haven’t slept with him,” she corrected, but wished she hadn’t told him anything of her personal life.
His face muscles relaxed, anger vanishing. “You haven’t?”
“It’s none of your business,” she spat, not ready to cool down.
Jenna heard someone approach. It was Mrs. White, fanning herself with the playbill. She waved her free hand at them. “I don’t know what kind of teenage drama you two got going on, but deal with it after the play. I don’t have understudies to play your parts if you decide to have a mental breakdown and storm offstage. So puh-lease for the time being, pretend you’re witches in Scotland. Thank you.”
When she finally left, Pru approached. “Hey, Riddick,” she said in a gentle voice, “let’s run our lines again.”
He nodded and turned to Jenna. “Let’s read them together.” He smiled. “You always know how best to deliver a line.”
Riddick seemed like Riddick again. Jenna relaxed, and joined him and Pru, as they quietly acted out their upcoming scenes backstage.
~~~
Time seemed to fly as the play progressed. When they’d been called onstage, they’d rushed out. Jenna had performed a better job; she’d avoided looking too much at Malcolm, who’d made it known with his narrowed eyes and snarled nose that he hated the male witch of the group (Riddick had seemed oblivious).
After each of their scenes together had ended, the trio had retreated to a secluded area away from the stage and chatted about the play or just relaxed. She’d expected Malcolm to suddenly appear as he magically could, but he’d been staying away; she’d been kind of glad, afraid of what damage he’d do once he got Riddick, alone, in a dark corner. Then there’d only be two sister witches brewing up trouble.
Just as they were about to go on and perform one of the most anticipated scenes in the play, Riddick tossed his script to Jenna. “Potty break,” he announced, before heading off to the cast-and-crew only restrooms.
Jenna and Pru waited a long time before he returned, looking out of sorts.
Mrs. White slapped the playbill against his head. She’d been waiting too. “What’d you do? Fall in?”
“Got talking with someone,” he replied cryptically.
“Go talk out there,” she ordered, pointing to the ready set onstage.
When she left, still huffing and puffing, Jenna asked Riddick, “Who were you talking to?”
“Just some dude,” he replied, still cryptic. Then he forced a smile. “C’mon. Let’s get this scene started.”
Jenna had a bad feeling, but she pushed it aside. She had to get through the play for Mrs. Thames’ sake. The thirty-something teacher was nearby, in her pencil skirt and silk blouse, checking over the progress of the production with an iPad.
The trio got onstage, resuming their places behind the cauldron, and waited for the curtain to go up.
“It’s filled with water,” Jenna observed. “Why the change?”
Pru shrugged. “There’s other stuff in there too.” She wrinkled her nose. “I hope those aren’t real dead animals.”
Jenna noticed bones floating to the top and what looked like large eyeballs. “Me too.”
“Relax, girls,” said Riddick, smiling. “There’s no reason to get scared.” He put an arm around each of their shoulders. “It’s just a play. Everything’s scripted.”
Jenna smiled, strangely comforted by Riddick’s embrace. “You’re right.” She sighed, happy. “This has been going great so far.”
“Yeah, it has,” Pru agreed.
Riddick smiled and removed his arms, but not before giving Jenna’s shoulder a tight, almost hurtful squeeze. “And then there’s the show stopper.”
“The what?” Jenna asked.
“Shh!” He put a finger to his lips, and then removed it, whispering, “We’re on.”
Jenna got back into performance mode as the curtain was raised. They said their lines, mesmerizing the crowd. Finally, they’d come to what everyone was waiting for.
In unison, they chanted, “Double, double, toil and trouble: fire burn and cauldron, bubble.”
It was Riddick’s turn next, but instead of speaking, he grabbed the back of Jenna’s neck; her hood was forced down, exposing her face. Jenna wasn’t in pain but shock.
“What’re you doing, Riddick?” she pleaded to know.
His face was still concealed beneath the hood, but she could see his eyes widen, giving off a deranged look. “If I can’t have you, NO ONE CAN!”
With all his force, he pushed Jenna’s face into the cauldron of—unbeknownst to her—scalding hot water. She screamed, letting bits of plastic bones and rubber eyeballs run into her mouth. The audience was screaming with her; some were laughing. As Riddick held her head deeper, she felt her fake nose, mole, and eyebrows peel off. She grabbed the side handles of the cauldron and pushed back, emerging from the water, and knocking Riddick down on the wooden floor. Pru had been trying to pull him off and got stuck under him. Jenna, spitting out hot water and slimy props, yanked her away from Riddick, his hands still grasping for his target. Someone had already closed the curtain, and the only lights that shone were the ones above the stage.
Riddick tried to get up to continue his assault, but Jenna clamped a hand on each of his shoulders and pinned him down, hoping that she didn’t crack his collarbone. He went limp as his madness evaporated, but he wasn’t responding to her pleas.
“Get out of the way!” Malcolm growled, suddenly behind her; his blue eyes were scorching with hatred.
“No, no!” Jenna pleaded. “It’s not him. It’s not him. He’d never hurt me.”
Malcolm ignored her. He hand flew down, targeting Riddick’s chest, intent on ripping his heart out.
She threw herself over Riddick, shielding him with her body. “NO!” she yelled.
Malcolm hit her with the force of a steel hammer, but stopped just in time before punching a hole in her back, reaching in, and ripping her heart out.
He quickly removed his hand. “I’m so sorry.” He was panicking. “Jenna, are you all right?”
She nodded even though her back was throbbing in pain; she knew it would heal soon. “Riddick didn’t mean to,” she urged Malcolm to understand. She looked at her friend. “Right?”
Riddick looked lost, confused. He blinked several times before locking eyes with her.
“Jen?”
She gave him a reassuring smile. “Hey, it’s okay.” She felt her face; it was no longer tender, already healed from the head dunk in the fiery water, as was her back from Malcolm’s blow. “You didn’t hurt me.” It was as if she said it to both of the guys in her life. Riddick closed his eyes and banged his head against the hard floor. “They told me to.”
Her heart almost stopped beating. “The Jinn?”
Riddick nodded, keeping his eyes closed. “I heard whispers.” He rubbed his ear as if it itched. “They told me I should kill you…during the play…for everyone to see”—he finall
y opened his eyes, staring only at her—“for Malcolm to see.”
Jenna was paralyzed. Malcolm unexpectedly helped Riddick up, who leaned on a willing Pru for support. Jenna was glued to the floor until Malcolm with extremely gentle hands, lifted her up; he held her to his side, one arm wrapped around her waist in security and love.
No one said anything. If they had a line, they kept it to themselves.
It was deadly quiet until their scene was interrupted by the loud arrival of Mrs. White, Mrs. Thames, other staff and students—along with Principal Greene—and Officer Marlowe, who Jenna watched in horror, slap handcuffs on Riddick.
HOW TO SAVE A LIFE
“Are you sure, Miss Love?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
The officer nodded to her and left through the front door of the Love residence.
Her parents shook their heads in confusion, wondering why she’d refused to press charges against Riddick. They didn’t understand. It wasn’t his fault, and she couldn’t stand to see him sitting in jail when the real culprits were still out there.
“But why?” her dad asked.
“It doesn’t make any sense,” her mom added.
Jenna assured them that Riddick was fine; he wouldn’t try to harm her again; he was truly sorry. She gave them the Cliff Notes version of what had happened, omitting any and everything about the existence of the Jinn.
Her parents still weren’t convinced and left to talk to Riddick’s dad and step mom; but both were out of town, so they called Jenna from the road and told her to stay at home; they went back to the funeral home and continued the arrangements for the Jennings’ funeral.
She wasn’t going to stay at home. She had to see Riddick, who’d been escorted back to his house by a police officer.
The sun was fading and the sky was turning a grayish-blue as she left her house, prepared for trouble; she was wearing her amulet around her neck, and the dagger sheathed at her hip, hidden by a jean jacket. The weather had turned cold, quite unnatural for the time of the year. It could’ve been just a change of seasons, arriving sooner than expected, or it could’ve been the machinations of the Jinn.
She tried not to think that evil was the cause of every weather fluctuation, but it was better to think that way, and to be on guard, then not to, and expose herself to attack.
Riddick’s house was all the way down the road, but Jenna didn’t care, enjoying the walk and the cool twilight air.
But she was forced to stop in her tracks, along the grassy edge of the road as a black fog appeared in front of her, forming into Malcolm.
“Where are you going?” he asked, concerned.
“To Riddick’s.”
“Take off your amulet. I want to see you.”
Jenna did and put it inside her jacket pocket. “Don’t try and stop me.”
He put his arms around her, pushing her against him. “He tried to kill you.”
“I’m a strong girl.” She rubbed his arms, trying to soothe his concerns away. “He can’t harm me unless I allow him.”
“I know you love him…as a friend. You think you know him, and maybe you do, better than me, but he was seduced by the Jinn. They know of his love for you, and of our love for each other. They used that against him. Yes, they failed, but they’ll try again.”
She lifted her lips in a half smile. “I’m counting on it.”
He furrowed his brow. “You want a fight, don’t you?”
“It’s who I am, Malcolm. I’m a Mage. I fight Jinn, demons. There may have been a time when I didn’t want it, but now, seeing the destruction they’ve done to my town, how they influenced Riddick, I can’t sit by and wait. I have to take the fight to them.”
He cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb across her skin, soothing her with his warmth. “I admire your courage, but I wish this wasn’t your fight. I wish there were other Magi, here, who could slay them, and then you and I can be together, without worry of attack.”
She sighed. “I know. I want a normal life, but I can’t stop being a Mage, just as you can’t stop being—”
“Yes,” he interrupted with feeling. “I can stop being a Jinni. I can repress that bad blood and let my human side emerge triumphant.” He left her cheek to run his fingers through her hair, and then halted his hand at her shoulder, clamping down. “You can lay down your arms and join me, living like others, free from the constraints of who we were born to be.”
“But not all your abilities are bad. You can travel at will. You put out that fire in the woods. You can do good things.”
His hand moved from her shoulder to her arm, holding it gently. “It’s only because my human side, my conscience, my ability to love, is stronger, and it wants me to do good things.”
“I have a moral compass too, and it’s telling me to fight evil.” She kissed him lightly on his lips. “Lemme go.”
His tightened his hold, but not enough to cause pain. “I want to come with you.”
She shook her head. “I wanna see him alone; tell him I’m not mad, that I forgive him.”
He sighed, defeated. He knew when to give in to his beloved. “Be careful.” He planted a kiss on her cheek, claiming her with an invisible burn mark. “I love you,” he whispered in her ear.
“I love you too.”
He released her, forced a farewell smile, and then vanished.
She continued her journey and Riddick’s house came in to view. It was small and white. There was an El Comino in the garage that Riddick had been slowly working on, trying to save up money, buy parts. Jenna was sure that if he could make it run on blood, sweat, and tears, he would’ve already fled Oasis, desiring to put as much distance between him and the girl who he’d been possessed to kill.
She stepped onto the porch, surrounded by dead plants that his step mom didn’t know how to take care of.
She rang the doorbell. Nothing. She knocked. Nothing.
“Riddick?” she called out. “It’s me. Jenna. Lemme in.”
“Well, well, well,” said a deep, exotic voice from behind her. “We knew you would come, Mage.”
Jenna didn’t even bother with her amulet, but quickly unsheathed her dagger and whipped around.
“About time you—”
She was cut off by the sight before her: two dozen Jinn, half male, half female, stood on Riddick’s lawn. The females, the Jinniyahs, were covered from head to toe in black gowns, with only their fiery eyes escaping from the slit in their veils. They took the rear, while the Jinnis, wearing black long-sleeved tunics over loose-fitting black pants, were in the front.
The one who spoke earlier, now laughed. “One against twenty-four.” He spread out his hands; his nails were a dirty brown, the same color as his long matted hair. “Who do you think will win?”
Jenna summoned up her courage and stepped off the porch, approaching the head Jinni. “That’s easy,” she said with a smile. “Me.”
And with one quick stroke, she stabbed him in the heart, before retracting the blade with a shout of victory. He caught fire, screaming in agony, and was finally reduced to ashes.
She scanned the rest. “One down,” she called. “Twenty-three to go.”
But her courage started to wane when all of them, howling in fury, ran toward her. She fought her fear and got ready, blade up high, poised in strike mode. But instead of rushing her, they began to disappear, and then reappear, all around her. She was caught in the middle of a Jinn swarm, and she didn’t know where they’d land.
Amidst shrieking in laughter, they chanted, “Despair and surrender, submerge and drink.”
They kept singing this strange lyric. At first, Jenna was confused until she realized what they were doing: they were swaying Riddick. She didn’t understand what they were trying to make him do, but she knew they were trying harm him, and she couldn’t allow that.
“SHUT UP!” she barked at them.
This only made them laugh louder and chant longer. She ran around the lawn, striking at thin air as the
Jinn disappeared from her justice. Feeling drained, she stood still, catching her breath. She closed her eyes and that was when she heard it: the whoosh of the Jinn as they teleported. Then she felt them: their energies were like a sort of oppression, darkness to the light of her destiny.
She remained calm, aware, but with her eyes closed. One appeared right next to her, and with the precise strike of a scorpion’s stinger, she pierced her heart, and the Jinniyah was no more. They came again, in twos and threes, but they were no match for Jenna’s strength; agile, she danced about in blind grace, feeling an eerie connection to their malcontent, anticipating their moves, and where to deal the death blow.
There were only six left.
A Jinniyah spoke. “This one is different.”
“We should flee,” said a Jinni.
The Jinni next to him snarled. “We don’t flee from the Magi.”
“Saladin will kill us all,” cautioned another Jinniyah.
Jenna finally opened her eyes. “No. I’ll kill you all.”
She reared her arm back, like she was pitching a baseball, and with all her might, threw the dagger at the remaining Jinn; she watched as the blade pierced each one in the heart, weaving a path of death, like a sown thread as it entered and exited each demon.
They had no chance of escape.
The dagger flew back to Jenna’s hand, hilt first; she twirled it, and then secured the weapon in the sheath at her hip, like a practiced gunslinger of the Old West.
She surveyed the battlefield. Riddick’s front lawn was covered in dead Jinn; piles of ashes littered the ground like ant beds.
She breathed a sigh of relief, resting from her fight, but then remembered Riddick, and the chants of the Jinn, inducing him to either pain or death.
Not caring about angering the Sharpes, Jenna kicked down the front door and ran down the hall to Riddick’s room, but he wasn’t there.
Burning Hearts Page 16
