by A. Blythe
“Well, as you can see, we’re fine. Thanks for checking.” I gave him my friendliest wave as Katrien dragged me away.
“Seven o’clock tomorrow,” he called.
“You are having dinner with him?” Katrien asked, once we were out of earshot.
“It’s just one meal.”
“But it sounds like a date. Are you certain it is a good idea?” Katrien asked. “With Aladdin’s people roaming around, I do not think it is wise to be out in the city.”
“Oh, I don’t think dinner with Reed is wise at all,” I said. “But I want to get it out of the way. I’ll be the worst date he’s ever had and he won’t ask again.”
Katrien eyed me. “You do not like him?”
I sighed. “I do like him. I just can’t be what he wants me to be.”
“And what’s that?”
I hesitated. “Normal.”
“You are abnormal?”
“I’m a djinni, but I’m a djinni without my magic, which basically makes me human. Sure, I can fire a magic bullet and wield a yantok like nobody’s business, but I’m still a djinni inside. And as soon as I can get these cuffs off, I will pop the cork off this bottle.”
Katrien’s gaze fixed on my cuffs. “Yes, the cuffs. They are true copper cuffs, aren’t they?”
I snorted. “I don’t think there’s been any doubt about that.”
“They have changed you.” She looked thoughtful. “I think that is what the tea leaves were trying to tell us. The cuffs have altered you.”
“Do you think captivity changed you?”
Katrien’s jaw tensed. “Of course. One does not serve as a slave and find freedom without a certain desire for revenge.”
Revenge. It sounded harsh coming from her lips. Once again, I thought of Jamie. He would have hated the idea of revenge. Instinctively, I checked my phone to see if there was a missed call from Jonathan. No such luck.
“I’m tired, Katrien. Let’s get a good night’s sleep. We’re going to need to be rested for tomorrow.”
Katrien inclined her head. “What is tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow the most talented mage I know is going to booby trap the hell out of Farah’s apartment building. If they’re foolish enough to try and come for you again, they won’t live long enough to regret it.”
10
Following our run-in with the Ifrits, I escalated my request for reinforcements. Pinky showed up bright and early, ready to get her magic on. First, she used a quick tidying spell to deal with the mess in Tops and Bottoms and then she set to work warding the entire building. She covered every window, every door, and every possible entry point. It was tougher when you were dealing with djinn because we could shift and slip through any available crack, no matter how small. Luckily, Pinky knew a spell that prevented that kind of entrance.
Katrien watched her work from her place on the couch, her thin legs in a cross-legged pose.
“She is most impressive for one so young,” she said.
Pinky’s forehead was lined in deep concentration as she finished the last entry point—the apartment door.
“All done,” she announced and wiped her palms together. “I’m ready for lunch now.”
“Thanks, Pinky. I know it was a lot of work.” I handed her bottled water.
“You’ve done more for me,” she said.
I heaved a sigh. “Let’s not keep score, okay? I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything.”
Pinky pursed her lips. “Whatever.” She gulped down the water. “Should we call Detective Thompson and see if she’s made any progress on the zombie robbers?”
“Not yet.” I’d filled her in on the second wave of zombies when we were in Tops and Bottoms. “She doesn’t like to be pestered.”
The door blew open and we all froze in place. No one should have been able to simply walk in except—
“Hey Farah,” Pinky said.
Well, Farah.
“Good afternoon, Sleeping Beauty,” I said. “And how was your evening?”
Farah stretched her arms above her head and gave us a dreamy smile. “It was very good. Thanks for cleaning up the store.”
“No problem,” Pinky said.
“Do you two have a case?” Farah asked, gesturing to Pinky and me.
“No, Pinky came to ward the building,” I said.
She frowned. “The whole building?”
I told her about the Ifrit encounter last night.
Farah shook her head and laughed. “Captain Angel Hair to the rescue. As usual.”
“He didn’t rescue us,” I said. “I had it covered.”
Katrien shrugged. “Technically, his fireball turned the tide.”
I shot her a death glare. “There’s still time to catch the next flight to Monaco.”
Katrien held up her hands. “Sorry. I did not realize the truth was such a touchy subject.”
“Alyse likes to pretend she’s still a powerful djinni,” Farah explained. “It’s been hard for her, living in a straightjacket.”
Spoken like a true best friend.
“But you have those wonderful magical weapons,” Katrien said. She looked at Pinky. “And you are responsible for those?”
Pinky nodded proudly. “We’ve worked together to create weapons that jived with her natural abilities.”
“The yantoks are good because they’re easily concealed.”
“They’re retractable,” Pinky explained. “It’s like having a phone that fits in your clutch bag.”
“Do you have other weapons like those?” Katrien asked.
“A few. Why? You don’t need one, do you?” I asked. “I’m sure you’ll recover your full strength soon.”
“It does seem to be taking a long time, though,” Farah said, nudging my arm.
I cleared my throat. “Maybe you’d consider seeing a therapist?”
“A therapist?” Katrien’s lip curled. “How very American of you. No, I do not think a therapist is in order. I will recover in my own time.”
I shrugged at Farah. I tried, my expression said.
After lunch, Pinky went home for a nap. All the warding had drained her. I minded the store for a couple of hours while Farah dealt with an armory customer off-site. Katrien joined me for a little while, trying hard not to show her disdain for the merchandise.
Once Farah returned, I grabbed my sneakers from behind the counter and slid them on.
“Where are you going?” Farah asked.
“I rescheduled my running date with Mix for today. I need to get a move on or I’m going to be late. He’s meeting me straight after work.”
I glanced at Katrien. “Will you be okay?” When I’d made the arrangements with Mix, I hadn’t expected to be jumped by members of Team Aladdin.
“I will meditate this afternoon, focus on my inner strength.”
“And I’ll keep an eye on things down here,” Farah promised.
“Thanks.” I grabbed my running jacket. “I won’t be too long.” Based on the way I felt after last night, I wouldn’t last more than twenty paces, but I needed to follow up with Mix on his research project. If there was a link between the two attempted robberies, then Standish Guthrie’s client list was more important than ever.
Mix and I jogged along the Schuylkill River, while I ignored the cramp in my side and the pain in the arch of my foot. If this was to be my human body for the foreseeable future, I had no choice but to keep it in shape. I had to give humans credit—it was hard work. As a djinni, I could be as thin or as shapely as I wanted without any effort. Trapped in human form, I had to sweat to see results. I didn’t like to sweat, but at least I couldn’t drown in it.
“So are you going to tell me what you found out about Standish Guthrie or are we going to run in silence?”
Mix jogged easily beside me, breathing normally. He didn’t need to run to stay in shape. Although he could simply use his magic to sculpt himself a killer body, he’d chosen to try and live an authentic human life, stubborn fat pockets and all.
“I’m debating what to tell you,” he replied.
“What do you mean?” I asked, slowing my pace. “What did you find?”
“A short list of rich, white people.”
“So what’s the issue?”
He fell silent for a moment. “One of them is Serena.”
Ah. It wasn’t a complete surprise. Serena probably had half the important lawyers in the city on retainer. Of course, this also meant she contacted Guthrie during the relevant time period.
“I’m guessing you haven’t asked your girlfriend about her recent legal concerns.”
He shot me an annoyed look. “First of all, she’s not my girlfriend. Second of all, no. I have not asked her about her private business matters. We talk about more interesting topics.”
“Like which side of the bed she wants to sleep on?”
“Hardy har har.”
“Who else is on the list?” I asked. I didn’t want to argue with Mix. Since my return to the city, we’d been at odds more than I liked.
“John Turgett.”
I recognized the name. “Politician, right?”
“Yes. City council president. Margaret Tulley.”
“She owns the ketchup company.” Although I wasn’t brand loyal, I often bought her ketchup out of an irrational loyalty to the colony.
“They make more than ketchup, but yes.”
“Anyone else?”
“Guthrie’s mother contacted him, but I don’t think you need to worry about her. She wanted to remind him to visit her in the nursing home.”
“He has all that money and he put his mother in a nursing home?” Ouch.
“I think she has dementia. I don’t judge.”
“You’re a better man than I am, Mix.”
“In every way.”
I’d need to relay the list to Thompson without raising Guthrie’s suspicion. I’d also want to run the names past Oscar and make sure there were no registered mages among them.
“Thanks, Mix. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. I’m a team player, Alyse. Your team.”
I reached over and gently punched his arm in an awkward display of affection.
“Now that I’ve made my offering to the Goddess of Trouble, may I be excused?”
“You want to abandon me here?” I gestured to the long path ahead.
He shrugged. “I’m meeting Serena for coffee. She has an appointment nearby.”
Nearby—as in the corner office nearby?
I blew out a breath. “Fine. Just don’t ask her anything about Guthrie. Thompson and I will handle it.”
Mix winked. “I don’t think we’ll be doing much talking.”
“Somehow, I don’t see Serena as the type to get busy in a coffee shop bathroom.”
He grinned. “I’ll say one thing for her. She’s full of surprises.”
While I pretended to gag, he took the opportunity to shift to mist. Bastard. Now I had to finish the run on my own. Exercise was much less enjoyable when I was left to my own thoughts.
I was so focused on the finish line, I failed to detect that I had company until they appeared on either side of me. It was amusing—watching two men in suits and loafers try to keep pace with me.
“Hey there, Niko.” I beamed. “Fabulous tie, as always. Very seasonal.”
He smoothed the burnt orange tie. “Thank you. My mother picked it out. Do you have a minute?”
“For you? Of course.” I glanced to my right where Mickey panted heavily. “For you? Not so much.”
I slowed to a walk and smiled as Mickey wiped the sweat from his Neanderthal brow.
“We need to ask you a few questions,” Niko said.
For a moment, I worried they were going to ask about Katrien.
Mickey cracked his knuckles. One of his many annoying habits. “We have it on good authority that your redheaded minx was spotted out with Luciano Bendetti.”
“First of all, she’s not a minx. Her name is Farah and she prefers her fox form.” I glanced at Niko. “Secondly, this is crime syndicate business, no? Why don’t you ask Luciano directly?”
“Because the boss doesn’t want to start a problem if there’s no problem,” Niko said. “You see?”
Their boss was Jimmy O’Leary, not Rocco. “What does O’Leary have to do with it?”
“He heard about it from someone, but Rocco don’t know yet,” Mickey replied. “Jimmy wants to make sure it ain’t gonna be a problem.”
I continued walking, aware of my decreasing heart rate. I checked my pulse. Not too bad, considering the disruption.
“Answer a question for me,” I said. “Who were you tailing—Luciano or me?”
I caught the guilty expression on Niko’s face. He was far too honest and polite to work for the crime syndicate. Sometimes I wondered why he didn’t get a legitimate job. Something less life threatening.
“We weren’t tailing nobody,” Mickey objected hotly.
“You guys don’t need to keep tabs on me,” I said. “Pinky and I have our own operation going. We’re not crossing any boundary lines.” Not that I wouldn’t hesitate to cross one. If the opportunity arose, I would have no qualms about messing with the crime syndicate’s business.
“We’re not shadowing you all the time,” Niko explained. “Just on occasion, the boss asks us to check in on you.”
“Why?”
“We don’t ask questions,” Mickey snapped. “We just do our job.”
Mickey Medici. Employee of the month.
“So what can you tell us about Luciano and Farah?” Niko asked.
“Luciano came by the store to ask me to lunch, but he and Farah ended up going instead.”
“Ooh, burn,” Mickey said, with a wicked grin.
I glared at him. “Thanks for the sympathy, but it was my choice.”
“Sure it was, doll.”
“How many times have they seen each other since then?” Niko asked.
“I don’t think that’s anyone else’s business.” And Farah would kill me if I told them anything.
I decided to take advantage of their presence. They may as well be useful for something.
“Now that I’ve helped you, why don’t you help me? Have you guys heard anything about humans being put under a spell to commit crimes?”
Niko and Mickey exchanged blank looks. Not connected to O’Leary’s section of the crime syndicate then. I didn’t think it was, but it was worth a shot.
“What kind of crimes?” Niko asked.
“Attempted robberies,” I said. “They shot a guard in a bank and they tried to rob Farah’s store last night. One of the robbers was killed in the process. When they snapped out of it, they had no recollection of what they’d done or why they’d done it.”
Niko rubbed his chin. “I’ll let O’Leary know in case he hears anything.”
“Thanks, Niko. You know you’re my favorite.”
He allowed himself a tiny smile.
I held back the information about Katrien and Aladdin’s band of merry Ifrits. I didn’t want to endanger her any more than she already was. The crime syndicate wouldn’t be above cutting a deal with Aladdin, promising to get their hands on Katrien in exchange for money or something much worse. If the crime syndicate ever started importing enslaved djinn, our peaceful co-existence would be over in a heartbeat.
“As much as I love catching up with you,” I said, “my lazy time is over.” I took off in a sprint, knowing perfectly well they’d make no effort to catch me. They got what they needed from me. Now I needed to warn Farah.
I headed straight for the shower to cleanse the smell of sweat and mobster from my skin. Farah was waiting in my bedroom when I emerged from the bathroom.
“You’re dripping water everywhere,” she said, pointing to the trail of water droplets behind me.
“Sorry, I’m still an amateur with a towel.” B.C. (Before Cuffs), I could dry myself off with the snap of my fingers. Now it was manual labor.
I noticed the hanger in her hands. “What do you have there?”
The dress was dark green and sculpted by gathers. It was clearly designed to flaunt every curve I had.
“For your date tonight. I saw this in the window of a boutique near Rittenhouse and it called your name.”
I touched the soft, forgiving fabric. “Farah, you shouldn’t have. You know I’m trying to dissuade him.”
“Please don’t. You two would be quite the power couple.”
My gaze shifted to my cuffs. “Only half of us, remember?”
“Wear the dress,” Farah insisted. “You used to love getting decked out. Just because you can’t summon designer duds doesn’t mean you can’t wear them.”
“No, the fact that I have no money means I can’t wear them.” I finished drying off and went to the dresser for a bra and underpants.
“I have enough money for both of us,” Farah said. “And Luciano seems to have an open wallet policy. If I even mention something in passing, he asks if I want it.”
At the mention of Luciano, I tensed up.
“What’s with the shoulder squeeze?” Farah asked.
I flashed her an innocent look as I slipped the dress over my head. “What do you mean?”
“You did that thing,” Farah said and imitated my tense shoulders.
I adjusted the neckline so that my bra wasn’t exposed. “Niko and Mickey paid me a visit today. It seems your interactions with Luciano have made the rounds of the sewing circle.”
Farah plopped back on the bed. “They’re asking for Rocco?”
“For O’Leary. He’s concerned about possible friction between Rocco and Luciano. He wants to know if your relationship is going to be a problem for them.”
Farah scoffed. “Why don’t they ask Luciano?”
“Asking me saves face.” I ran a comb through my wet hair. Now that the humidity had calmed down, so had my frizz-prone locks.
Farah hugged the pillow to her chest. “Do you think they’re going to have a duel or something?”
I laughed. “I don’t think members of the crime syndicate are known to duel, but their sense of honor is real. If Rocco feels disrespected by you both, that’s a problem.”
I threaded a pair of hoops through my earlobes.
“What should I do?” Farah asked. “Do you think I should talk to Rocco?”
