by Judi Fennell
She tucked Gregory into the sofa behind her, then stood up. “Ladies, thank you so much for this visit. It’s very nice of you to stop by, but, as I’m sure you can imagine, I still have a lot of work to do.”
“Zane isn’t here to help you?” That Laura woman didn’t give up.
Vana started gathering the children, then picked up the plate of baklava. Couldn’t be more on the offensive than that—or more offensive, probably, but Vana didn’t care. She had to get them out of here. “He had business to attend to.”
“About the house?” Laura asked again, both hands wrapped around the lantern. Vana needed to make sure it didn’t leave with the woman.
“Oh, please ask him not to sell it to a developer.” Stella handed over Benjamin right before a dollop of honey disappeared. “I know it must be worth a fortune, but someone will want to keep it as it is.”
“Stella’s right,” said LeeAnn. “He can’t sell to a developer. My son was just saying how his Future Farmers of America club had to get off the property they’re leasing because a developer bought it to build a mall. More projects like that, and we’ll lose that small-town feel that Larry and I moved here because of. A lot of people feel the same way.”
“Which is going to play a big part in the mayoral race come November,” said Stella.
“I hope he doesn’t sell it at all,” said Terri-Tess. “This house is part of our history. Where and how the town started. The City Council should preserve it as a historic landmark. Then no one would be able to buy it.”
“That’s a great idea, Tessa,” said Brenda. “Think of all the possibilities. From the house itself to the grounds, to the surrounding land, we might really want to think about bringing that idea up at the next Council meeting.”
“We could have the Fourth of July community picnic here.”
“Or summer camps.”
“Oh, that’d be a great idea. It’d save me a twenty-mile drive to the closest one before going into the office in the summer.”
Vana was more concerned with finding one wayward child than what the women were planning. She smiled at the right moments and nodded appropriately, but she was trying to find a way to get them out of the house while trying to figure out where Colin might be hiding. Using magic was looking better by the minute, which illustrated exactly what Colin’s disappearance was doing to her sanity. He could be anywhere. Planning anything.
“Thank you for all the suggestions, ladies. I’ll be sure to pass them on.” She headed toward the front door, wishing she could enchant the women like the Pied Piper had enchanted the mice and lead them out of the house.
Especially when Eirik started leaning toward her.
Great. If he fell over, that’d be another story to circulate around town.
She opened the front door, blocking him from their view. “Thank you all for coming, ladies. It’s been a pleasure getting to know you.”
Luckily, they took the hint, though with much hemming and hawing—and straining of necks to look upstairs—leaving just before Eirik decided to thump against the door.
“What is wrong with you?” Vana yanked the coat rack back to upright. “All of you? You know you can’t misbehave when mortals are around.” She dragged Eirik into the parlor—literally dragged him because he would not walk across the floor.
“Colin, you come out here right this instant, young man.”
The dishes started clacking. And Henry started thumping his doors. Eirik wobbled back and forth, and Lucia started jumping on the table while Fatima did some weird undulation thing that almost knocked Vana off her feet.
“Hold on, hold on!” She held up her hands, and like an orchestra waiting for the conductor’s signal, everyone quieted down. “What’s going on with you? And where’s Colin?”
The noise started again, and Vana held up her hand again. “One at a time, please.”
The story came out then in all its horrifying ugliness. Gary had Colin. He’d tied up Henry and Eirik—luckily Laura’s curiosity had made her cut Henry’s bonds, but the fishing line was still on his and Eirik’s legs.
Vana cut it off and yanked the nails out of poor Fatima with a sick feeling in her stomach. She’d let them down. She’d allowed someone to learn of her magic and use it against them. She was exactly what her parents expected: an utter failure as a genie.
But she couldn’t sit and wallow. She had to rescue Colin. She had to make sure Gary didn’t do anything with the knowledge he now had. And she needed to do it without Zane finding out because he’d give the house away before letting any of this taint his family name.
She untaped Fatima and Lucia, promised the children she’d bring Colin home, then magicked herself to Gary’s house.
32
Zane was definitely right: the best defense was a good offense.
And Gary was quite offensive.
Vana Invisibled herself into his house to find him sitting in his front parlor staring into Peter’s grandmother’s brass lamp with Colin duct-taped to the table next to him.
It took everything she had not to turn Gary into that toad she’d mentioned to Zane earlier. Too many questions would be asked if he disappeared, although she doubted that anyone would complain.
“I know you’re in there, genie,” he said, rubbing Emeline’s lamp. “I also know I’m your master. Come out here and show yourself. I have wishes I want granted.”
Oh, he did, did he?
Vana unInvisibled herself and levitated into the room in all her djinni glory: full-on harem garb in the most vibrant and sheer fabric, the richly embroidered, ceremonial high-curled khussas, and a veil straight out of the collection of the Seven Veils of the Dance. He was going to get the full treatment.
She stood right behind him, her magic making her entrance silent, then she tapped him on the shoulder.
“What the—” Gary jumped and spun around. Emeline’s lantern went rolling beneath the sofa.
“Hello, Gary.”
“You!” He was breathless with awe for all of about a second, then the leering took over. “It’s about time you showed up. What kept you?”
“Your clues were a little too vague.”
“I’ll work on that for next time.”
There would be no next time.
“So…” she said, keeping a tight enough rein on her temper that the grimace stretching across her face could be construed as a smile—until one heard the gnashing of teeth behind it. “I hear you have some wishes you want granted.”
“You don’t even care about the dish?”
She shrugged. “It’s just a dish.”
“But it moves.”
“So?”
That took away his bluster. “You don’t want it back?”
“Why? There are others.” She couldn’t look at Colin. She’d explain this to him afterward, but oh, how she hated for him to hear her say this. If she could be certain of her magic, she’d make him unable to hear it, but she didn’t want it to backfire and ruin his ears.
“Oh.” Gary lost more of his bluster. The jerk had actually thought he’d entrap her.
Poor, misguided man. The thing with the djinn was a djinni in control of her magic could be a formidable opponent. One out of control of her magic would be even worse.
“So what do you want?” Vana tapped one khussa in the air—and made sure he saw it.
He did. “That. I want to do that.”
“Tap your toe?”
He snorted. “No wonder you’re enslaved by mortals if that’s what you come up with.” He circled around her.
She let him preen. Let him think he had the upper hand. She was no more his genie than she was Zane’s, which meant she could do to him whatever she wanted—and there was a lot that she wanted to do to him.
“I want to be able to walk on the air like you do.”
“No problem.” She kissed the air, and Gary was hanging upside down from the doorframe. Wow, she’d actually done what she’d set out to do.
“Not
like this, you idiot!”
She wanted to tsk-tsk at the name-calling, but she didn’t want to overplay her hand just yet because the fun was only beginning.
She kissed the air instead, and this time Gary was upright. Well, if he could call being hunched over and trying not to bang his head on the ceiling since his feet were five feet off the floor “upright.”
“Put me down, genie!”
“The name is Vana, if you don’t mind.” But she lowered him anyway. Maybe a little harder than she’d planned.
Or not.
“Your name is whatever I want it to be, genie. I’m the master.”
She ground her back teeth together, trying to refrain from flinging him into the cold, dark fireplace. Where was Merlin when she needed him?
Merlin poofed into the room.
“Yo, Van, what’s shakin’, bab—Oh, ho! What have we here?” Merlin glided around Gary three times, his feathers changing color with each rotation. Right now they were ebony with the tiniest lick of flames on the edges.
“Seriously, Van? You’re wasting firepower on this?”
Gary’s face got as red as those feather tips. “Get out of here, bird. This doesn’t concern you.”
Merlin nodded and stroked his chin with one wing while coasting with the other. His circles were getting smaller. And his flames were getting bigger.
“You know, that’s true, bug guy—I mean, big guy.” He narrowed his eyes. “This actually doesn’t concern me. I have every faith Van is going to be able to handle you perfectly.”
Merlin looked at her, saluted, and winked. “Have at it, babe. Enjoy.” Then he burst out in one of the biggest fireballs Vana had ever seen.
It singed off Gary’s eyebrows.
He glared at her, but the effect was ruined without eyebrows.
“I want riches. Right here. Right now.” He even stamped his foot, the spoiled bully.
“Very well.” She kissed the air and—
“What the hell did you do?” he screamed, staring at his forearms.
Where a long line of stitches practically bisected the length of both limbs.
“Um…”
“Get rid of these right now!” He flung out his arms.
That was too easy.
But it was what he wished for…
Vana kissed the air.
“What the fuck?” Gary stared at his shoulders—that had nothing hanging from them.
“You wanted me to get rid of them.”
“Not my arms, you moron!” His eyes narrowed, mean and beady. Maybe she should turn him into a rat instead of a toad. “Put them back on, genie.”
She raised an eyebrow and the room fell silent.
Finally, Gary exhaled. “Fine. Vana.”
“That’s better.” She kissed the air, and he had his arms back.
Too bad they were on the wrong sides.
“What the fuck?” Gary flung them awkwardly—not that Vana could blame him. It must be difficult to gain control over backward appendages. “Put them back the right way!”
“Is that what you wish?” she asked, trying desperately to keep the humor out of her voice. See how much he liked being bullied.
“Of course it’s what I wish. That’s why I said it! What—you need me to spell it out for you?” He still didn’t get it.
“There are certain rules and protocol you need to follow, Gary.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I don’t kid about being a genie.” Especially in this minute when she was in full command of all her djinn power. Was this how DeeDee felt all the time? It had a lot to recommend it.
“Fine. What are they? How do I get my arms back? And my money?”
“You want money? That’s what this is all about? That’s why you’re hounding Zane to sell the place? That’s why you want to turn Peter’s memory into a laughingstock?”
Gary crossed his arms—well, he tried to. “Do you mind?” With his palms up, he looked like he was pleading. A very good look on him.
Vana kissed the air; she’d had enough fun at his expense. Being a bully didn’t feel good, no matter how nasty he was.
“It’s about time.” Gary shook his hands. Of course he didn’t say thank you. For that alone, Vana seriously considered replacing his legs with his arms and vice versa. “And I don’t have to do a thing to turn Peter’s memory into a laughingstock. He did that all by himself—or you did it for him. Right?”
She should have turned him into a toad. She didn’t understand croaking. “Peter was a great man, and you need to remember that.”
“Oh, sure. Peter was great. It was his all-powerful being who couldn’t get it right.” Gary shook his head. “And now I’m saddled with you.”
Okay, that was just way too easy.
She kissed the air and Gary was a donkey. An ass, to be specific. Wearing a saddle.
His legs fell out from under him, and he hit the floor with a thud hard enough to bounce the table where Colin lay. The smart kid twisted just enough that when the table hit the floor again, some of the duct tape gave way. He started working himself free. Colin always was resourceful.
“Oh God, turn me back, gen—I mean Vana. Now.” Gary stared at his splayed front legs.
“You don’t like it, do you?” She took a step closer to him. He couldn’t kick her from that position. “You don’t like being at someone’s mercy. Made to do things you don’t want to. Having no control. It stinks, doesn’t it?” Like he did. Donkey or otherwise.
He nodded, the big brown donkey eyes looking a bit teary.
“This is how you made Zane feel when you were children, you know. You were a bully. And you still are. Leave Peter’s memory alone. Leave Zane alone. Matter of fact, why don’t you leave this town alone? Everyone could use a break from you. If you promise to leave here, I’ll turn you back.” She tapped her khussa again. “No more bullying people, Gary. No more trying to wheedle them out of the votes or their inheritances or their possessions.”
She held out her hand and kissed both Emeline’s lantern and the freed Colin into her hands. “I am not your genie. I never was. And if I ever see you in this town again, you’ll wish I’d left you a donkey. Do we understand each other?”
Gary bared his big, yellow teeth in an equine snarl.
Vana puckered up.
Gary lost his bluster and hung his head. “Yeah, fine. Whatever.”
“And not a word to anyone. They wouldn’t believe you anyway. And then the stories about Peter would stop and the ones about you would begin. Do you want that legacy? Because if you think today’s demonstration was something, just wait until I put it on a grand scale in your dubious honor.”
“Can I at least have something before I leave? Say… a couple thousand bucks?”
Talk about easy… She bit her lip. “Um, sure. I can do that.”
She magicked a herd of deer into his backyard as she spirited Colin home.
33
Zane pulled into the driveway a little after nine. It’d been a long, frustrating day, and the gargoyle playing ostrich in the front yard didn’t help matters.
He parked the car, his knee twinging as he got out. He’d put it through the wringer today to prove to the team’s trainers—and himself—that it was back to a hundred percent. He’d worked his ass off rehabbing it in just eight months, and all the ladder-climbing yesterday had convinced him to set up today’s appointment because he needed to show them he was better than second string. He wanted to start, dammit.
He hadn’t gotten a “no,” but he hadn’t gotten a “yes,” either. But at least the lack of a “no” allowed him to hope.
He’d then tracked down his attorney on the golf course in sweltering ninety-five degree heat to see if Gary’s threat could pose a problem, only to be charged time and a half to get called an idiot for not accepting the offer in this tough real estate market and to learn there was no way to prevent Gary from bidding on the house without facing a major discrimination lawsuit that could tie
up any sale to anyone for ages.
Then, to top it all off, his condo building was being fumigated so he’d had to drive three hours twice in one day to spend another night under the same roof as Vana. After the last two, he didn’t know how many more he could take without taking things further, regardless of the complications that would arise.
The woman was one giant complication. She got under his skin in a huge way—to the point that he had to wonder why he was backing off. She was his genie; she wasn’t going anywhere. How much longer could he fight the attraction—and seriously, why did he want to? He turned to fire when she was in his arms and she melted in them. They were a match made in Heaven—or whatever constituted genie nirvana.
Nirvana… She was aptly named.
God, it was going to be another torturous night. He should have stayed in a hotel in Philly. But he hadn’t and here he was, debating whether or not he’d tell the gargoyle with its head buried in the flower bed that he could see it.
Nah. He’d had enough of magical beings—except for the one he had a feeling he’d never have enough of.
He opened the front door to find Eirik standing beside Henry, who was fluttering his doors in what looked to be a heated discussion. They froze in place the second he walked in.
“Don’t let me stop you,” he said, plucking a note with his name on it that was floating in the air at eye level.
Zane,
There is baklava in the kitchen and I’m in my bottle upstairs. Send Merlin to get me when you’re home. I need to talk to you.
~Vana
If only she needed something else from him…
“Oh, honey! He’s ho-o-o-o-me!” The bird flew into the foyer with a piece of—baklava?—balanced atop one of the children on his back, his cornrowed tail feathers knocking three glass bottles and the old-time photos over. “Miss us?”
