The Accidental Genie

by Dakota Cassidy

  She took another deep breath, albeit shaky. “I’m not sure I’m up to living forever. Seems to me, it only prolongs the length of time I have to spend trying to keep my ass from hitting the back of my knees. The idea of taking Zumba class for an eternity is exhausting.”

  Maybe it was her tone of voice. Maybe it was the defeated way her shoulders slumped, but it was obvious Sloan picked up on her mood shift. He tilted her chin upward, running his thumb over her skin with his callused fingertip. “There are good things, too. Like the skin you have right now, which is pretty good, and I know skin. No one in the marketing department—who knows Marty—doesn’t. Means you avoid plastic surgery for a long, long time.”

  If he only knew . . . “Best day ever,” she said on a smile, noting how thready her voice sounded.

  Sloan tilted his head. “It’s going to be okay,” he insisted again.

  “Hey!” Nina snarled, reentering the bathroom and pushing her way between them. She poked Sloan in the chest. “Sloan, get the fuck off her. I swear to Christ, you make a move on a client, and when Marty gets back from Whereverthefuck, Egypt, she’ll kick your ass. She ain’t on the menu, buddy. No genies on my watch. Now get your ass in gear. Casey and Darnell are here, and they think they might have something that’ll help us.” She pointed to the door.

  Sloan didn’t say a word, but as he stepped around Nina, he pinched her cheek and grinned. “Have I told you I love you today, vampire? You’re so helpful and warm, supportive—and soooo preettty,” he cooed, then laughed a deep chuckle.

  “Fuck you.”

  Sloan’s laughter lingered long after he’d gone to stand in the hallway to wait for Jeannie.

  Jeannie closed the bathroom door and put a hand on Nina’s arm. “He wasn’t coming on to me. Swear it, MWA.”

  Nina shot her a bored look. “If a chick’s hot enough, Sloan would come on to her even if she was on a morgue slab. He’s a hole chaser. Period.”

  Hot? Phew. Problem solved. Hot would never apply to her again. Ever. “Well, I’m not exactly hot, so no fears there. And I just wanted you to know nothing untoward was going on. Absolutely no hole chasing. He was just showing me his forehead had healed. You know, the magic of werewolves?”

  “Untoward? That’s a big, fancy word for such a little chick. And you know what?”

  “You don’t give a shit.”

  Nina drove a light knuckle into her shoulder. “Fuck. Can you read minds now, too?”

  Jeannie flashed her a coy grin. “No, you silly. I just get the impression you’re doing what comes naturally to you.”

  Nina’s eyebrow flew upward. “And that is?”

  “Protecting the weak and helpless. Know that I appreciate you keeping man-whore Sloan the Werewolf from sinking his nasty teeth into my unsullied flesh.”

  Nina took a step back and crossed her arms over her chest with an arrogant gaze directed at her. “Is that your way of telling me you’re a big girl, and you can handle this shit on your own?”

  Jeannie shook her head until her swollen eye ached from the motion. “Oh, hell to the no. Not on your eternal life, Keeper of the Virgins. No way are you getting out of your bodyguard duties. No. Way. I got you, babe, and that means you got me, too.”

  “Then get the fuck out in the living room before I kick your midget ass, and when I look out for you—let me look out for your scrawny butt without any lip. Got that shit?”

  Jeannie saluted Nina and retorted, “Got that shit, captain.” She flung the door open and rushed out before Nina had the chance to utter another threat.

  As Sloan followed her to the living room, Nina’s rush to protect her virtue accomplished two things. First, it made her feel safer than she had in a long time. Safe and cared for. But it also led her to toy with a notion that was, at best, ludicrous. One that was probably as crazy as everything else going on right now.

  But what was life without a little crazy?

  * * *

  INTRODUCTIONS had been made, and Casey had relayed what she’d learned from her college friend. Now, as Jeannie assessed these new paranormal people rather than address Casey’s doom and gloom words, her eyes were instantly drawn to the enormous demon in high-tops and more bling than Marty.

  As he crossed the room toward her, she instantly looked down at the floor to mask her curious stare and instead listened to the clank of his gold medallions slapping into one another.

  He plopped down on her couch, consuming most of the exposed space, and smiled—so warm and teddy bearish, it made Jeannie’s heart throb. But he was a demon . . . “You don’t gotta worry, Miss Jeannie. I get why you starin’, but s’okay. I’m a big dude. E’rybody stares one time o’ ’notha. I’m used to it. And I know you thinkin’, how can somebody who looks like a big ol’ teddy bear be a demon, right? I ain’t got no horns and pitchforks or nuthin’.”

  Darnell’s warmth filled her, spreading through her chilled limbs and giving them a warm glow. She tucked her hands into her sweater self-consciously, her eyes downcast. “I’m sorry. It was very rude.”

  His chuckle was thick and hearty. “It ain’t no thang. You ain’t got nuthin’ to fear from ol’ Darnell. My good intentions is as big as I am. As to your eyeball, sho do make this demon wanna find the brotha and rough him up. Never you fear, though. If he comes round up in here, Darnell gonna make him wish he’d stayed in that hole he done crawled outta. I’ll make him sorry he evah laid hands on yo little person. I got yer back, s’all I’m sayin’. Ain’t no man hittin’ no woman on my watch. Count on it.” He followed his words with a solemn nod.

  And Jeannie believed him. Darnell exuded all things good and kind. He also defied everything she’d ever been taught in vacation Bible school.

  “So how’s you, Miss Jeannie?” He planted a paw on her shoulder, and it didn’t even make her flinch. “You a’ight, considerin’?”

  “I think I am.”

  “You’ll adjust. We’ll help,” was his simple answer.

  This group of people confounded her. Clearly, they’d all been brought together by circumstance. Yet, they’d not just bonded in their supernatural states, they’d created a family dynamic that was unique to their situations.

  The way Marty, Nina, and Wanda worked so fluidly together, even with their bickering, had amazed her, but that there were more people who so willingly gave of themselves to complete strangers had her rethinking her jaded view on humanity—or undead-manity. “I hear you’re sort of the go-to guy when it comes to paranormal events. Do you always help Nina and Wanda like this?”

  He nodded his big head like it was no sacrifice. “You bet. Least I sho try. Sometimes it’s outta my wheelhouse, but I can usually find somebody that knows somethin’.”

  Jeannie shivered at his generosity—still incomprehensible with her cynical view of the world. “I feel guilty for taking you from your lives—your families.”

  Darnell sat forward, resting his elbows on his wide knees. When his chocolate brown eyes connected with hers, they were filled with fondness. “My family’s all them crazy women and their men, their kids and pets, too. Family helps family. Thass just how it rolls, Miss Jeannie.”

  Jeannie’s fingers twisted together in a knot. “But to give up so much of your time to someone you don’t even know, and you don’t get a dime to do it . . .”

  Darnell looked her square in the face, a grin teasing his lips. “Now who says I don’t know you? You Jeannie Carlyle, the wishanator with the fancy pants and the brokeback magic carpet. I know you as good as I need to.”

  Her eyes searched for her brokeback magic carpet, finding him sleeping soundly by the entry to her kitchen.

  A tear burned her swollen eyes and the fight to keep them in check made her head ache. This new transition in her life was very different from the last. The last had been rapid and institutionally cold.

&
nbsp; She didn’t know what to do with all this warmth. It left her feeling awkward and embarrassed. She’d somehow forgotten how to react to simple kindness. “That’s a very kind thing to say. Thank you.” Her words were stiff and noticeably uncomfortable, but she genuinely meant them.

  “Nevah you mind, Miss Jeannie. I been around a long time. Know some stuff ’cus of the years I got under my XXL belt. Seen some things, too. Juss sharin’ it is all. If it helps somebody, I’m glad to oblige. Got nuthin’ better to do any ol’ ways—you know, eternity and all. Might as well make the world easier to live in and help out where I can.”

  Tucking her chin into the collar of her sweater, she asked, “So is what Casey’s college friend said really true? Someone has to replace me in the bottle in order for me to be released from this curse?” How could she possibly do something so heinous and still live with herself? Even if she put someone in the bottle who totally deserved it, like a mass murderer, what if they escaped the way Burt had? Then they’d be a mass murderer with out-of-control genie powers, too? She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head.

  “Thass the best we got so far, Miss Jeannie. Same as what Mat told ya. Still don’t know why you two stuck together, though.”

  Jeannie snorted in a go-figure way. “So either I hunt for a victim or I get used to the idea of bonding with that filthy college dorm of a bottle.” She paused for a moment, then asked, “You think I could squeeze some throw pillows and a lava lamp into that tiny opening? You know, just to freshen things up in there. Make it more Jeannie, less Burt the Twelve-year-old?”

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close to his bulk with a rumbling chuckle. “A’ight now, Miss Jeanie. You got the right attitude. You all jokin’ ’bout your lot in life. Thass a sure sign you gonna be okay.” He held a thumb up at her.

  Who wouldn’t be okay with servitude and a new pad to decorate? It was like she’d hit the dream store and found the best dream ever on sale for half off. You just didn’t take gifts like that for granted. “I will be okay. No matter what,” she muttered with determination. Because she was a be-okay kind of girl.

  Darnell leaned back and gave her a quizzical look, but she was thankful for Casey’s appearance, which kept him from questioning the obvious vehemence in her statement. Casey, petite and slender in her conservative slacks, loafers, and brown turtleneck, eyed Jeannie with a critical gaze. “You okay?”

  Jeannie nodded. “I’m fine, really, and I appreciate you finding out what you did, and saving those people from my wishes gone wild.”

  Casey perched herself on the edge of the couch where they sat and smiled down at Jeannie, placing a hand on her shoulder. “No worries. It’s all part of the job,” she said as though trips to hell were on par with a career as a filing clerk. “But our spells won’t last long, Jeannie. You’re the permanent fix to this—so we have to find some way for you to fix them in order for the spells to have a lasting effect. If only I had more info, but my friend’s going to keep looking. We’ll find something to help us . . . a clue . . . that damn book from the library, whatever. We always do. Or it finds us.”

  Casey’s words and her smile were reassuring, but there’d also been a brief flash of the unknown in her eyes. Unfortunately, that was what stuck with Jeannie, and it made her already uptight stomach turn.

  Casey gave her a nudge. “In the meantime, it could be worse, right? Sloan’s not half bad to look at, don’t you agree?”

  Jeannie fought a dreamy sigh of agreement and kept her gaze steady with Casey’s. “I guess I could have been tethered to a Jonas brother or, OMG, even Justin Bieber. There really are fates worse than death.”

  Casey slapped her hand on her thigh and let her head fall back on her shoulders with a laugh. “There you go. Go you, being all positive. And look at it this way—Nina could have been the one to open that bottle. You could be tethered to the beast. Now that would be total shit.”

  Nina was across the room in a blur of dark hair and hoodie. She loomed over Casey, defensive and rarin’ to have a go at her. “Fuck you, fire starter.”

  Jeannie rose with a gulp, positioning herself between the two women. She reached upward and gave Nina’s jaw an affectionate pat. Whether Nina liked it or not—and not was probably the case—she had a fan in Jeannie. “Now, MWA, no fighting. Remember me? Fragile and battered. I can only take so much chaos before I snap. Who knows what could happen with my wish granting if my emotional state’s in utter turmoil.”

  The whole world could explode, for all she knew. Having the fate of the whole world on your shoulders was a lot. If stress activated a wish, she was an accident waiting to happen.

  Casey stuck her head over Jeannie’s shoulder, leering at Nina. “You’re upsetting the client, Nina. So unlike your gooey, marshmallowy self.”

  Darnell shot up from the couch and wrapped a big paw around Casey’s waist, hauling her to him while simultaneously patting Nina on the shoulder. “Ah, ladies, we got better things ta do than fight. We gotta find Marty and help Miss Jeannie. You don’t wanna leave Miss Jeannie high and dry ’cus you two cain’t play nice, do ya?”

  Jeannie nodded and shot Darnell a grateful smile. “What he said. So let’s focus on what to do now. All the evidence points to my ability to grant endless wishes—”

  The crash of her front door opening startled Jeannie, making her mouth clamp shut and her eyes open wide. An older, but almost as handsome, version of Sloan stomped through her small living room. His face was a mask of a scowl, his eyes cold bits of blue.

  He stalked toward Sloan, who’d been quietly searching the Internet with Wanda, and yanked him up by his collar, making Jeannie’s stomach instantly heave. “Where the hell is my wife, Sloan? We never go more than a few hours without touching base, and it’s been more than a few hours. So where the hell is Marty?”

  Keegan’s roaring voice made Jeannie’s chest vibrate. She clenched her hands together and immediately went to step between the two men to run interference. None of this was Sloan’s fault.

  But Sloan was too quick. He gave Keegan a hard shove; the slap of his hands against the leather of his brother’s jacket cracked sharply. “Back the hell off, Keegan,” he said from clenched teeth.

  His head swung around as he took in everyone in the room with a gaze so intense and hotly angry, Jeannie had to ward off a shudder. “Goddamn it all and you women with this quest to save the world!”

  Wanda, always the peacemaker, took on a completely different role as she shook her finger at Keegan. Suddenly, she was a fierce mother, protecting her young.

  Pushing Darnell out of the way, she stuck her waggling, elegantly polished nail right under the incited Keegan’s nose. “Don’t you dare swear at me, Keegan Flaherty! Marty loves OOPS. It’s as much hers as it is any of ours. What happened was an accident. Period. Our safety is always at risk, and she knew that. But she does it anyway. Why? Because that’s just who Marty is. Her theory has always been, as has been all of ours—well, except Mighty Mouth’s—if we’d had this happen and there’d been no one to help us through it, what would have become of us? We had each other. People like Jeannie aren’t so lucky. Now I’ll tell you this once, Cro-Magnon man, back off! And you’d better watch your tone with me, werewolf! I know you don’t want me to tell Marty you had the nerve to behave as though she isn’t entitled to do with her life as she pleases. Because I think I know where that fight will leave you . . .”

  Keegan’s big body relaxed a bit, but only a little, before he was looming over Jeannie, his eyes filled with hot anger. “So you’re the one who’s got the ‘problem’?” He swiped his fingers in the air. If fingers could portray sarcasm, his oozed it.

  Jeannie gulped, shrinking beneath his hard gaze. God, he was big and scary. How had two such different men come from the same womb? Keegan was as intense as Sloan was devil-may-care. But she was the person res
ponsible for sending Marty off wherever. She’d own it. “I . . . um . . . am. I’m so sorry. I would do anything to—”

  Sloan’s hand clamped on his brother’s shoulder cut her off, the blue of his veins popping beneath his ruddy skin. He jammed his face in Keegan’s. Eye to eye, Sloan’s narrowed in warning. “I’ll only tell you this one more time, and then we’re gonna go, brother. Back the hell off the lady. It was an accident. Got that?”

  Nina plucked Jeannie up by the waist of her jeans and moved her aside, then she stuck her face between the two men. She wrapped an arm around each of their necks and crowed, “Ass sniffers? I know you don’t want another round like our last touch football game, do you? Remember that, motherfuckers? I slaughtered your asses. I’ll damn well do it again. Take it down a notch and help us, you big, dummy werewolf. Don’t make shit worse.”

  Keegan cracked his jaw and took a step back, moving from Nina’s headlock with a grunt. “You know what, Nina? I wish Marty’d just keep her designer-clad backside where she belongs—with me. Because whenever she leaves the confines of my eagle eye, there’s always hell to pay!”

  Everyone in the room stood stock-still—not even an eyelash fluttered.

  Damn that infernal word.

  Jeannie’s breath caught even as her body trembled and the heat in her cheeks flamed. This time, she felt something was going to happen and she knew she was powerless to stop it.

  Oh, fire and brimstone.

  The lights dimmed, winking on and off, and the floor shifted beneath their feet in a raucous rumble.

  This time, the disturbance was followed by a high-pitched screech, an ear-shattering whine that made the windows of her brownstone quake then blow outward with the clink of flying glass. The frozen air from beyond her floor-to-ceiling windows whooshed into her living room in an icy wave.

  Her eyes scanned the room for poor Mat and the twins. They’d be scared witless, but the twins were nowhere in sight, and Mat hadn’t stirred from his spot by the kitchen.