“There’s your hottie friend,” Abby said, wiggling her fingers at somebody. “Did he change? I thought he was wearing a Linkin Park t-shirt?”
I followed Abby’s gaze and spotted Maven sitting next to a friend from our former track and field team. Samuel—his back to our table—sat in front of them. “No, he didn’t change. The guy you saw earlier was Maven’s twin brother.”
“Twin brother? You mean there’s two of them? Identical?”
“Yep.”
“Oh my! Well, Maven seems too clean-cut for me. I guess I’ll take the other one.” She winked. “What’s his name?”
“Samuel.”
Sensing our attention, Maven looked our way. Caught in the act, I waved and smiled in the friendliest possible way. He nodded once but didn’t return my smile. He looked away and gave us the cold shoulder the rest of the night.
I sighed, feeling too tired for any of this. He seemed to be mad at me for some reason. Great! Another connection threatening to snap.
22
A couple of days later, when the familiar ding-dong broke the silence in the nursery, I looked up from the register to find Maven striding between the tinctures shelf and the dark magic elephant ears, mud crumbling off his work boots.
“Hey, Maven,” I enthused, happy to see him.
“Hey, is that my mulch over there?” he asked, gesturing toward the front door and brushing sweaty blond hair off his forehead.
“Uh, yes,” I said, sad to find that he was still giving me the cold shoulder.
“It’s already paid for.” He turned back toward the mulch. The owner of the small landscaping company he worked for kept a running account.
“Javier can help you load it,” I offered.
“No, I got it.” All business.
I left the register and walked behind him. As he hefted the first load of mulch onto the bed of his truck, I stood by the metal-grate doors, kicking the gravel underfoot. I searched my mind for something to say, but it seemed the slight closeness we’d developed had cooled off.
“Joggin’ tomorrow morning?” I asked, not knowing what else to say.
“Not sure I can.” He opened the truck door, then paused, turning his face so I could see his angular profile. He looked as if he wanted to say something more.
“Why are you avoiding me?” It had become obvious that for some reason, he didn’t want anything to do with me. I wanted to treat him with fairness. He wasn’t to blame for what Zet had done while posing as Maven. God, I hoped I hadn’t let that taint my attitude toward him and caused this.
“What makes you think I’m avoiding you?” he asked, not in defense, but in challenge, like he wanted me to admit what I’d done wrong.
“Well, you’re rushing out of here, for instance,” I said.
“I gotta work.”
“Or giving me the cold shoulder at Ben & Bayou,” I reminded him.
“You were with your friends. I didn’t want to intrude.”
“It was just Faris and Abby. You know them.”
“Not really.”
“Well, you could, get to know them, I mean. Unless you’re too good for us,” I joked.
“Maybe, I am.” He started to leave.
I stepped closer. “Hey, what’s the matter?”
Maven examined my face with curiosity. “You really want to know?” A dare.
“Uh . . . sure.” I sounded anything but sure.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Communication, not exactly your strong point.” He got in the truck and drove away, tires spitting gravel as if they were insults.
“Maven.” His name fluttered past my lips in a weak regret.
No doubt I would have to work extra hard on this particular connection. Well, no better time than the present.
***
“Are you sure they’re coming?” Abby asked, pushing a pink extension off her sweaty forehead, “’cause it’s too damn hot and humid to be waiting out here if they’re not.” She had the look of someone afraid of being stood up.
We were standing by the stairs under the large Riverwalk Marketplace sign, a metal arc suspended twelve feet above us at the entrance to one of my favorite places. With a scenic view of the Mississippi river, the outlet had amazing shopping and even more amazing food, like the mouth-watering crawfish etouffee I had in mind for dinner. The street lamps were starting to come on.
“They’ll come,” I said. At least Maven, maybe.
“They’d better.” Abby fanned herself with one hand. Her cheeks looked shiny and bright, like two red delicious apples.
A breeze—too cool for early September—blew from the river.
“Damn that feels heavenly,” Abby closed her big brown eyes and pointed her nose skyward, enjoying the coolness on her neck. I cut my eyes toward Faris who gave me a quirky smile. Our own personal air conditioner. I smiled back.
The plan was to get my friends—including Faris—together so we’d get to know each other better. I’d invited both Maven and Samuel, hoping to smooth things over. Not for the first time, I wondered if it was a bad idea.
“I need something to drink,” Abby proclaimed and pranced toward a street stand.
“She’s bubbly,” Faris mused. “Nothing like you.”
The comparison bothered me. “You’re welcome to hop right in step.”
“Jealous?” he asked.
The heat of a blush started at my collar. I looked away, hiding my face behind my hair. “Why are you always trying to aggravate me?” I asked.
“Aggravate you? Is that what you think?” He nodded to himself, looking as if he finally understood something. “I apologize. I will try to make amends.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re exhausting sometimes.” I shifted in position, searched the ebbing crowd for Maven, and decided I couldn’t hold it any longer. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?” Faris asked, worried.
“Ladies’ room. You can’t go in there. Not even invisible. You hear me?” I warned him.
“I have to. It’s not safe leaving you alone. Not even for a second.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” I tried to sound reassuring and hide yet another blush. They assaulted me every time I undressed and thought of Faris and his invisibility powers.
“I’ve assured you I wouldn’t dare peek, even though I’d . . .” He thought better of it and didn’t finish.
“Even though you’d like to?!” The heat on my face redoubled. I felt like one of the gas street lamps on the sidewalk.
“I’m a gentleman,” he said. “I assure you.” He looked so stern, so truthful that I regretted my distrust, and wanted to take it all back, to tell him I knew he was a gentleman and I’d never met a man like him. A man, yes. Not a Djinn, or whatever he was supposed to be. A man who might restore my trust, a man I might have faith in . . . and maybe more.
I shook my head, tried to chase the insane thoughts away. I couldn’t be harboring these feeling. Not when I still didn’t know what had happened between Faris and Mom.
“Whatever. It’s not like I’d know if you did take a peek,” I said offhandedly and immediately regretted it. My words hurt him, visibly. It was clear in the way his eyes grew dark, all because I thought he was being dishonest.
“Damn it! I . . . I didn’t mean that.” I looked at the ground and counted cracks in the cement. “I have a bad habit of saying the opposite of what I’m thinking.”
Faris put a finger under my chin and forced our eyes to meet. “Marielle, if I could . . . tell you . . .” Each word was forced.
I recognized his struggle, his inability to say what he wanted to say. He looked at my lips, bit his own. The finger under my chin seemed to burn. My whole body tingled. Without even thinking, I took a step closer. He sucked in a breath, eyes full of surprise, yearning, desperation. He wanted it, badly. It was plain to see. Wanted it more than I did, seemed to actually need it, as if the world depended on it.
I froze, scared, and took two steps
away, practically shaking. A wave of pain and frustration whirled in Faris’s eyes. He looked away and inhaled. His lips moved, whispered words that teased my ears.
“What did you say?” I wanted to ask him, but I had no right. Not after cowering from the intensity of his need. Not when I knew he couldn’t tell me, even if he wanted to. The moment broke like a butterfly wing in a whirlwind. A whirlwind with a name: Abby.
She pranced back, holding a Styrofoam cup and sucking on a clear straw. “I say we give up on them,” she suggested.
“Well . . .” Just as I was about to agree, I spotted Maven hurrying down the sidewalk. As I’d feared, Samuel wasn’t with him.
“Maven’s here,” I said, nodding in his direction.
He jogged up the steps to meet us, hands in his pockets. Abby’s eyes searched behind him. Then her shoulders dropped. The disappointment wasn’t lost on Maven. He stiffened, his expression defensive in the face of Abby’s dashed hopes for a not-so-clean-cut version of Maven.
Mortified, I wished for a bit of Faris’s magic to help shape Abby’s expression into something friendlier or at least neutral. But it was too late. Maven’s barrier—already erected—fortified a little more. Great! I’d need a sledgehammer to get through to him now.
“Hey, Maven. Remember Abby and Faris?”
He gave them a quick glance and nodded. “Samuel couldn’t come.”
Faris extended a hand. “Good to see you again, Maven.”
Reluctantly, Maven’s own hand came out of his pocket and returned the greeting. Cold, blue eyes met Faris’s dark, but welcoming ones.
“You guys know each other already?” Abby asked.
“Uh . . . yeah . . .” I stammered, seeing how all the lies were getting out of control. “They . . .”
Faris came to my rescue. “It turns out I’m a friend of the family. I knew Marielle’s grandfather.”
“Really?” Abby looked confused.
I diverted the conversation. “Guys, I thought it would be a good idea to hang out . . . get to know each other better.”
Abby shrugged. Maven said nothing.
“I think it is an excellent idea. Marielle’s friends should be my friends.” Bless Faris! I could kiss him for trying to break the ice. My eyes drifted to his bee-stung lips.
“Right.” I blinked and looked away. “Uh, are y’all hungry?”
After more shrugs and indifferent expressions, we headed to the food court. Faris asked questions to spark up some conversation, but even over-the-top, talkative Abby had nothing more than monosyllables to offer.
Later, as we sat eating, I couldn’t have cut the tension with a knife . . . or an ax . . . or even a laser beam. It was beyond awkward. It was abject torture! The crawfish etouffee felt sour in my mouth. Maybe I’d forgotten how to have fun, but it seemed Maven hadn’t just forgotten, he’d gone completely amnesiac.
I was on my last bite of etouffee when—out of the corner of my eye—I sensed someone watching me from another table. As I looked in that direction, a man swiveled in his chair, turning so I couldn’t see his face. I stared at the nape of a very thick, very familiar neck.
Faris noticed my distraction and gave me a questioning glance. I shook myself and put on a smile. I clutched my plastic fork. Anger and self-doubt mixed in my chest—anger because the man looked like Jeremy, self-doubt because . . . what if he wasn’t?
I didn’t need Jeremy or Zet stalking me. There had been enough of that already. I wanted this over. I wanted to just be. I stood abruptly. Faris almost jumped to his feet. His chair scraped the floor, but he checked himself. Maven and Abby looked at each other, then from Faris to me.
“I . . . I need more napkins,” I said and walked toward the condiment bar, feeling Faris’s eyes on my back as I walked away.
With you, always with you . . .
I shook the thought away and focused on my stalker. Before I neared his table, he stood and walked away without looking back.
“Coward,” I murmured, feeling sure I’d recognize that swagger among a thousand different ones. I wanted to follow him, but if I did, Faris would come after me, and then I’d have to contend with Abby and Maven’s questions.
I snatched a few napkins out of a dispenser and walked back to our table. I stopped at the sight of my companions. They couldn’t have looked more depressed if they’d been at a funeral.
“For Pete’s sake, y’all look like chastised orphans or something. I think we need some ice cream. C’mon. My treat.” I took my tray, threw away my garbage, and searched the crowd.
I’ve had it. Whether Zet or Jeremy was after me, I was going to find out.
23
I headed the way Jeremy had, knowing there were a few ice cream vendors along the way. Craning my neck, I looked ahead and spotted him. He was standing by a window display. I could see his profile and even from a distance I recognized his malicious smile. He was aware that I was following him. His expression gave me a chill and made me want to run and hide behind Faris, but I was sick of cowering and depending on him.
It wasn’t Jeremy. After seeing that evil smile, I was sure. Jeremy was capable of many awful things, but he didn’t have eyes on the side of his head.
Faris walked at my side. “Is everything okay?” he asked in a quiet murmur.
My nod was a lie, and I hated it. But he was cursed and couldn’t tell me what was going on, and I was tired of this stupid game. Besides, how long could we keep this up? I didn’t have forever like Faris and Zet.
Jeremy gave me a meaningful look, then turned away from the window and strolled down the center of the wide walkway, making himself known—enough so that if my friends hadn’t had ice cream on their minds, they would have noticed him.
We passed a Häagen-Dazs.
“I love their dulce de leche,” Abby said, wistfully pointing at the shop.
“Yeah, it’s pretty good,” Maven offered, the first nice thing he’d said all evening.
“I changed my mind,” I said. “I’d like a snow cone.” I knew there was a stand outside, which was where Jeremy was leading me. I pressed forward, as he took the escalators to the first level.
“What’s the hurry?” Faris asked, following my intent gaze.
“Really love those snow cones,” I said, concealing all but a bit of my sarcasm.
I burst through the exit doors into a blue-purple dusk. Several jets of water sprouted from the fountain in the middle of Spanish Plaza. A riverboat floated nearby, taking tourists for a quaint dinner over the murky waters of the Mississippi.
My eyes danced over the people who ambled lazily down the river walk. Jeremy’s tall frame was nowhere to be seen. I stood rigidly, my head moving from side to side like a pedestal fan. Sensing my distress, Faris scanned the crowd. Maven and Abby gathered around me, curious about my erratic behavior.
“Lost something?” Maven asked.
I was about to lie but realized there was no point. Instead, I tried a half-truth. “I thought I saw Jeremy. It’s like he’s stalking me or something.” But there was no sign of him. “Maybe I’m just being paranoid.”
Faris gave me a tight glare. “You should have told me,” his eyes seemed to say.
I shrugged. “Never mind, I’m just imagining things.”
Now they were all searching the crowd—Faris scanning each face with a predatory, lethal instinct—but Jeremy had gone up in smoke. No doubt the evil Djinn brother was up to something, but what? An idea struck me . . .
What if Zet wanted to talk to me?!
He’d guided me out here, after all. Of course, I didn’t trust him, but that didn’t mean I shouldn’t hear him out. If he’d wanted me dead, he’d had plenty of opportunities to kill me, hadn’t he? But what could he want to tell me? And what if listening helped me figure out what to do?
Abby’s voice snapped me back to the moment. “I thought you had to have a snow cone, even dashed my dulce de leche dreams, and now you’re just standing there, wasting our time worrying about Jeremy?
I feel cheated.”
I shook myself and let out a puff of air through my nose, half amused. “You’re right. But you’ll see. You’ll thank me for the snow cone. I’ll even get extra condensed milk on yours.” I tried to feel lighter. At least my momentary psychosis had gotten everyone to loosen up.
We ordered the snow cones from the small stand and stood to the side as they were prepared. Others placed their orders. The line was long. It was a perfect day for the icy treat. As we waited, something cold and wet touched my fingers. I jerked my hand upward and gave a small yelp. When I looked down, I found a large, black dog sniffing around me.
His distracted owner, a tattooed man in Bermuda shorts, pulled on its leash. “Spartan,” he reprimanded. “So sorry.”
“No problem,” I said with a smile. I like dogs and this one seemed harmless, in spite of its size. His eyes were round and full of happy wonder. He looked like a mix of labrador and something big like a Saint Bernard.
When our snow cones were ready, Faris took them and started handing them out. The dog’s owner clicked his tongue and pulled Spartan along. The dog trotted happily for a few steps, then stopped. His large head turned slightly so I could see his profile. Its jaws opened in an unnatural, grotesque smile. Something alien glinted in its eye—happy wonder was replaced by savagery.
The dog’s head turned slowly to completely face me. I took a step back. Panic ignited in my chest. The animal’s massive head jerked, yanking the leash out of his owner’s hand. Around me, time grew thick with everything moving in slow motion.
I staggered backward. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Faris turning, smiling and holding a snow cone dripping with red syrup. The possessed dog’s hind legs flexed, then he pounced toward me and covered half the distance in one leap. A scream got caught in my throat. I lost my balance—arms windmilling like drowning in reverse and, worse, in a time warp.
Faris threw the snow cone. Icicles flew from the cup and sliced the air, bleeding in strawberry colors. A woman standing in line yelped as red slashed her white top. Maven and Abby called out my name.
One Wish Away: Djinn Empire Complete Series Page 18
