Chasing Promises: (Capturing Magic, Book 3)

by Sorensen , Jessica

  “I still can’t believe he asked you to do that,” Arrow utters quietly.

  My chest tightens. Wait … Maxton wants Asher to kill him?

  While I’ve only met Maxton a couple of times and, both times, he tried to capture me so he could take me to his father, I could see the suffering in his eyes. Nothing he’s done has been of his own free will. He’s a prisoner to his father. He’s a genie without any of his own magic.

  “Can’t you?” Asher questions. “For most of his life, he’s been a forced slave to my father, having to do everything he’s asked. And considering what kind of genie my father is …”

  The room grows so quiet I can hear the thudding of my heart.

  “I’m sorry, Ash,” Arrows tells him. “I’m sorry that both of you are suffering.”

  I wish there was a way I could help them save Maxton, to pay them back for everything they’ve done for me. For saving me. For not throwing me out on my ass when they realized all the danger that came with having me around. For making me feel better about the thing with Yellow …

  I immediately shove all thoughts of him aside. While the guys have been understanding about what happened, I’m still trying to move past it. From what East told me, it’ll take some time for that to happen. Not that he embellished on his own personal experience with the subject. He just said that he understood. I could see it in his eyes, though, that he knew how I felt.

  The anger.

  The pain.

  The shame.

  “I just wish there was a way we could help him,” East says with a heavy sigh. “He looks so broken and beaten down.”

  “Careful with the word wish,” Asher warns with a pressing look. “My lamp’s literally less than fifty feet away.”

  East sighs, yanking his fingers through strands of his blond hair. “You know, it’d be really nice if there was a way to remove the power from that damn thing so we didn’t have to worry about accidentally setting it off. I’m so sick of worrying about having another flying elephant situation on our hands.”

  What the shit? I stop twirling the drumstick as I sit up. “Flying elephant situation?” What in the crazy troll babies?

  All three of their attentions turn to me, and I’ll admit, it’s a lot to take in.

  Asher is gorgeous; all tall and lean with short brown hair, pierced lips and brows, and these crazy blue eyes framed by thick eyelashes and smudged eyeliner. He is always sporting his jinn trademark wrist cuffs and, like all the guys, he rarely wears a shirt. Right now, he has on black jeans that hang low on his hips, giving me an eyeful of the tattoos and scars on his skin.

  Then there’s East, who is probably one of the most beautiful creatures I’ve ever seen. Tall, with chin-length blond hair; full, pierced lips; and emerald green eyes that always carry a flicker of mischief. He’s also not wearing a shirt and has his glittery wings spanned out, all sparkling magic and iridescent light.

  And Arrow is just as beautiful as Ash and East, but in a more otherworldly way. Half-man, half-machine, his arms, neck, and muscular chest are spun of flesh and bronzed gadgets. His fingers are purely mechanical and, since he’s only wearing pants right now, I can see the inked and small pieces of steel covering his abs. But his face is human; full lips, short black hair, and haunting silver eyes.

  “What? Haven’t you seen one before?” East teases with that typical, playful glint in his eyes.

  Shaking my head, I push to my feet. “No. In my world, elephants were just large animals with tusks that were stuck in zoos. And they didn’t have wings.”

  “Zoos?” East leans forward and rests his arms on the counter, his gaze locked on me.

  “It’s a place where they keep animals locked up so paranormals and humans—well, the ones that can afford to go there—can go look at them,” I explain, tucking the drumstick into the back pocket of my shorts.

  East’s lips sink into a frown, a rare look for him. “That’s a thing?”

  I nod, wandering over to where they’re all standing. “Some paranormal even locked up humans in electric cells. Although, that was more for torturing purposes, but some would pay to watch it happen.” I shrug, remembering the time I spent in the electric cells, the pain and humiliation I felt.

  East eyes me over, and I swear he can see it written all over my face. His lips part, but Asher is the one to speak first.

  “Were you locked up in one of those places?” he inquires with a frown.

  I lift a shoulder. “Does it really matter if I was?”

  East rolls his eyes as he pushes away from the counter. “Little mouse, how many times do we have to tell you that everything about you matters?”

  Now I’m the one to roll my eyes, but that only causes him to smirk.

  Then he cups my face between his hands and holds my gaze. “Don’t roll those pretty eyes at me.” He grins as I give him a dirty look. “You matter to us, and it’s about time you start realizing it.” He skims the pad of his thumb along my cheekbone. “Face it, sweetheart, you’re one of us now.”

  I glance from him, to Arrow, to Asher, half-expecting one of them to chime in and declare that East is full of shit. But Arrow just gives me a confirming smile, and Asher’s eyes radiate intensity.

  “He’s telling the truth,” Asher tells me, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, but then he steps forward and ambles toward me. “You’re one of us now, little thief, whether you want to be or not.”

  My lips part with a protest, a declaration that he’s not the boss of me and I’ll do what I want, but East talks over me.

  “And while I’m fairly certain those pretty lips of yours”—he traces his finger along my lips—“are about to lie and say that we don’t own you and that you have no desire to be part of our group, we all know that, deep down, you secretly like being kept by us.” His lips quirk with amusement.

  I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re not keeping me here. I’m choosing to be here.”

  A cocky grin spreads across his face that puzzles the pixies out of me. “So, you want to be here with us, then?”

  I replay what I said, and then I want to bitch smack myself. “That’s not what I meant,” I scoff, raising my chin. “I’m only here because of the bargain I made with Asher.”

  East’s grin broadens. “Then, technically, we’re keeping you.” When I shake my head, he continues, “Either we’re keeping you here or you’re choosing to be here. It can’t be both.” He tucks a strand of my long, brown hair behind my ear. “Personally, either way is appealing, so it’s a win-win situation for me.”

  My lips twitch in annoyance, but that annoyance is directed more at myself for not being able to go to toe-to-toe with him. I used to be better than this, could hold my own. Right now, though, I’m flustered from his flirty smiles, his touches, the way they’re all staring at me like everything East is saying is true.

  I step back, hoping to clear my head and get some of my game back. “Whatever. It doesn’t even matter why I’m here. All that matters is that, when this deal is over, I’m gonna go home and back to my old life that doesn’t include the three of you.” I grin, though my heart rate quickens at the idea.

  Panicking.

  I’m panicking about going back to my home because, truthfully, I don’t really have a home. All I have are the streets, my thieving skills, and Jason, though I’m not even sure he remembers me anymore. Honestly, even if he did, I’m not certain I’d see him the same way as I used to. After spending time with Asher, East, and Arrow, my perception on friendship has shifted, my expectations rising.

  The room suddenly trembles and, for a moment, I think one of the guys is doing it. Then I feel power flickering through me and realize my dumbass is losing control over my power again.

  “Sweetheart,” East says, his eyes searching mine. “What’s wrong?”

  I don’t want him to see what lies inside them. What lies inside me.

  “I need to go do … something,” I mumble then bolt out of the room.

/>   Only when I get into my room and take a deep breath am I able to get my powers under control. Then I pad over to the bed and lie down, staring up at the ceiling and trying to sort through my racing thoughts. My head is a clusterfuck of emotions that I’ve never felt before, so I’m not sure how to handle them.

  For most of my life, I’ve kept myself emotionally closed off. And for a good reason, since the moment I fall in love with someone, they’ll die, thanks to the curse Asher’s father put on me a long time ago.

  I’ve always succeeded at keeping those emotions bottled up. I used to believe it was because I was some sort of badass emotions controller, but I’m starting to become aware that I was wrong. That I was able to control my emotions better because I’d never gotten close enough to someone that tested my strength. Now …

  I shake my head. No, I’m not going to do this. I won’t lose control and make others suffer.

  Get your head back in the game, Harlynn.

  I lie in bed, trying to do just that, until someone knocks on my door.

  I almost remain quiet, pretend to be asleep, but they keep on knocking.

  Sighing, I call out, “Come in.”

  The door is opened up, and East walks in with a cautious look on his face, which is weird for him.

  “Hey,” he greets with a small smile—again, a strange move for him.

  I sit up, studying him. “Why are you acting weird?”

  He presses his hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. “I came in here to check on you and you say I’m being weird? How you wound my heart.”

  I roll my eyes as I scoot to the edge of the bed and dig out the drumstick from my back pocket that’s poking me in the ass cheek. “You’re such a drama queen.”

  “I’m the drama queen?” he questions, arching his brow. “You’re the one who keeps bailing out of the room right in the middle of a conversation.”

  “I’ve done it one time.” I hold up a finger.

  “Actually, you’ve done it three times over the last forty-eight hours.”

  I crinkle my nose, fiddling with the drumstick. “Has it really been that many times?”

  He nods, crossing the room toward me. “Yes, it has.” He pauses when he gets in front of me, briefly deliberating something before sinking down on the bed beside me, sitting so close that our knees touch.

  Just a little bit ago, I would’ve made a big show of sliding away, but I remain where I am, too tired to move or care.

  Yeah, that’s it, Harlynn. You’re too tired, my thoughts mock me.

  East brushes a few strands of my hair out of my eyes. “So, what’re you running from?”

  “Nothing. I just need a break from you guys.” Not a total lie.

  Still, it feels like one.

  It’s frustrating.

  I’m frustrated with myself.

  Frustrated with the curse.

  Frustrated that I’m losing control of something, yet I don’t even sure what that something is.

  Or maybe I do and just don’t want to admit it.

  I start restlessly twirling the drumstick as frustration grows inside me. The room starts to quiver with my restlessness, which only makes me grow more frustrated.

  “Sweetheart.” Concern fills his voice as he lightly places a hand on my leg. “You need to calm down.”

  I’ve spent a lot of my life not being touched, not feeling skin touching skin. Usually, I’m a pro at not caring, but my mind must be too distracted right now, because the moment the warmth of his skin touches mine, any rein on my power slips and the whole bed jolts. Then the drumstick slips from my fingers and hits me square in the eye.

  “Ow,” I whimper, covering my eye with my hand.

  East smashes his lips together, pressing back a grin.

  “This isn’t funny,” I try to argue. “Gods, it hurts so bad.”

  A chuckle slips from his lips. “You know, I’m just realizing I haven’t actually seen you do anything clumsy until now. It’s kind of entertaining.”

  I aim a dirty look at him, but I’m not sure I reach the mark since I can only use one eye. “You haven’t seen me be clumsy because I’m not clumsy. It’s part of why I’m such an excellent thief.”

  His grin is filled with wicked delight. “And yet, here we are, sitting on the bed, and somehow you nearly manage to poke out your eye.”

  “My hands were sweaty and the drumstick slipped from them,” I insist.

  “Hmm …” is all he says while studying me. Then he leans toward me and wraps his fingers around my wrist. “I better take a look at it and make sure it’s still there.” He gently removes my hand from my eye.

  My eye twitches against the light, water overflowing it.

  “Aw, it’s all red.” He traces a path underneath my injured eye, his lips twitching to turn upward. “Such a shame for something so beautiful to look so nasty.”

  I can’t stop a small smile from tugging at my lips, but then I sigh. “Does it really look nasty?”

  He wavers. “That all depends on what you consider nasty.”

  I start to get up to look in the mirror and see for myself, but he captures my arm and pulls me back down.

  “Okay, so I don’t want you to panic,” he starts, “but I think, somehow, some of Darla’s magic may have gotten on Arrow’s drumstick while she was here.”

  My brows knit. “You think some of that nasty fire demon’s magic got on the drumstick?”

  I expect him to tease me about sounding jealous or something. Instead, he bites down on his bottom lip, hesitancy written all over his pretty face. And that makes me kind of worried.

  “Why would you think that?”

  When he continues to hesitate, I jump to my feet and rush over to the mirror. As I catch sight of my reflection, part of me wishes I’d been poked both of my eyes so I couldn’t see.

  Not only is my eye swollen and puffy, but what looks like liquid fire is leaking out of it.

  I squint at my reflection, panic rushing through me. “Oh my gods, is this permanent?”

  East rises to his feet and moves up behind me, amusement dancing in his eyes. “It’s not that awful. Or, well, it’s not as nasty as I originally thought it was.” He reaches around and brushes his fingers along my cheek. “In fact, I think you might be able to work the leaking-liquid-fire-out-of-your-eyes look. With the right outfit, of course.”

  I glare at him in the mirror. “I’m glad you find this funny, because I sure don’t.” I pull a face at my reflection. “Great. I already looked freaky as it is. This is just gonna add to that.”

  “You think you look freaky?” he questions with confused amusement.

  I shrug. “Yeah. It’s why people are always staring at me. Now that I’ve found out I’m some weird-ass rare creature, it makes sense.”

  He sighs heavily. “Oh, Harlynn.”

  It’s weird he called me by my name instead of one of the many nicknames he’s given me.

  “Oh, East,” I mimic then say, “What’s with the sigh, faerie dude?”

  He shakes his head and mutters, “So snarky.”

  I cross my arms. “Like you’re not?”

  “Oh, I totally am, which makes us perfect for each other.” He tries to dazzle me with a sparkly grin.

  I give him a bored look, to which he responds with a grin.

  “Pretend all you want,” he says with a twinkle in his eyes. “We both know you secretly agree with me.”

  I dramatically roll my eyes. “In your dreams, faerie.”

  “And maybe in yours.”

  “Don’t you dare go in my dreams,” I warn as I recall what Asher told me about East being able to enter creatures’ dreams, but only if you give him permission.

  “I won’t ever do that without your permission.” He smirks haughtily. “Which will happen one day.”

  I roll my eyes again. “No, it won’t.”

  “We’ll see.” His eyes sparkle with mischief. I can tell he’s totally getting off on getting under my skin.
<
br />   “Yeah, you will see when it doesn’t happen.” I smirk, but it fades as my gaze strays back to my reflection in the mirror. Glittering orange liquid is pooling in the corner of my now red eye.

  Awesome. It’s getting worse.

  “Great, I’m probably gonna have to wear an eye patch now, and I don’t think I can pull off the pirate look very well.” I aim for a joke, hoping to make myself feel a bit better, but the fact that my words might carry some truth doesn’t help the situation.

  East chuckles, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against him. “Actually, I think you’d make a sexy pirate.”

  I scrunch up my nose. “Um, no, I wouldn’t.”

  “Yeah, you would, but all of this is beside the point.” He dips his lips toward my ear. “Because,” he whispers while carrying my gaze in the mirror, “I can fix your eye with my magic.”

  I perk up. “Really?”

  He nods, his lips brushing across my ear. “Yes, really.”

  A shiver rolls through my body as he slips his hands slightly under the hem of my shirt and brushes it across my belly. I don’t care at the moment, though. All I care about is that he can fix my creepy eye.

  “How? And please don’t say that I have to, like, eat a demon scale or something like that.” I glance at my eye again as if floods with so much fiery liquid that I can’t see out of it. It’s starting to hurt, too, a dull ache that’s slowly building. “Although, I probably would if I have to.”

  “You say that now, but I suspect the moment you smelled the dragon scale, you might decide that rocking an eye patch is a much better alternative.”

  “Why? What do they smell like?”

  “Like the Wastelands spawned a baby with a sewer rat demon.”

  “I don’t even know what either or those are, but it sounds gross.”

  “It’s completely gross.” He lightly kisses my ear before turning me around to face him. “Do you trust me?” he asks, studying me with his head slightly angled to the side.

  “Um …” While the question sounds simple enough, trust is a huge deal to me. If I say yes, it’s basically admitting that I like him. And doing that could be disastrous for several different reasons. “What does that have to do with anything?”