Magical Redemption

by Nicola E. Sheridan

  She could tell he recognized the attraction. He curled his sculpted lip into an ugly snarl and forced himself to stand. He towered over her.

  “When you’ve quite finished, I want to get out of here.”

  Jinx held his glare without flinching. “No please, at all?” she said and rested her hands defensively on her narrow hips.

  “I do not believe one is required.” His voice was cold and the impatience audible. Her master bent over and picked up her blue and white lamp. His long fingers were bluish and evidently numb. They slipped as he tried to pick up the smooth sides of her lamp. He hissed with frustration and tried again to grasp the lamp, but it clattered and rolled to the side.

  “Can I help you?” Jinx asked, determinedly professional.

  Her master glowered at her. He clenched and unclenched his fingers slowly next to the lamp. He winced with each gesture.

  “Can I help you?” she asked again, not allowing his fierce expression to distract her from her genie-duty.

  He bit his lip, as if to hold in a retort, then nodded curtly. Jinx bent down and picked up the lamp, then straightened immediately. Her master did the same. He stood beside her and opened his hand to accept the lamp from her. She looked down at the lamp. It pulsed with her life force and exuded the sweet scent of star anise and cinnamon. Small and glossy, it nestled deep into her master’s cold, blue palm.

  “I want to get out of here, quickly.”

  Jinx narrowed her eyes in reciprocal irritation. “Is that your second wish?”

  “I did not make a first,” he snarled.

  Jinx pursed her lips. “Uh, yeah you did. You asked me to get you down, and I did.” She rested her hands on her hips, again.

  “I don’t recall wishing it...” He exercised his fingers again with a wince.

  A swell of annoyance was threatening to explode in her head. Damn it, he was right. She did not want this arrogant man to have the upper hand, but he already had it. “Okay, you’re right.” She acquiesced unhappily. “Is getting out of this invisible box your first wish, then?”

  The man licked his dry lips.

  Jinx instinctively uttered another spell in response to his need. He jerked as a sparkling glass of water materialized from the smoke and shimmered in his hand. A tiny waterfall cascaded down its sides and ran over his white knuckles. He stared, clearly bewildered by the water’s sudden appearance, and tightened his grip around the glass with a wince. He quickly brought it to his dry lips and drank thirstily. She was annoyed at her own unwilling but immediate response to his needs.

  “My first wish is to get out of this box, return to my basement apartment to collect my belongings, and then find a safe place,” he said. The glass slipped from his cold grasp and shattered on the invisible floor.

  They ignored it.

  “Where exactly do you wish to go first? I want something a little less vague,” Jinx said, further irked by his lack of thanks.

  “I have a small basement apartment in the Docklands. The Family doesn’t know about it.”

  “What family?”

  Her master looked at her coldly, as if truly noticing her for the first time. Jinx swore his gaze lingered on her nose.

  “The Family—as in the Magical Mafia.”

  “You’re in trouble with the Mafia?” Jinx asked. A sick, squeezing contraction of her throat muscles made her squeak.

  “You could say that,” he murmured. “Are you going to grant my wish?” His voice warmed with irritation.

  Out of habit, Jinx reached up to fondle her crucifix. Her stomach plunged. It was still in the pocket of her luggage. That tiny, insignificant crucifix was the last remnant of her past, the last tenuous link with her mother. She felt her face freeze. Her grumpy, arrogant master noticed.

  “What?” he snarled. “Genie, are you granting my wish?”

  “Yes, of course, master,” Jinx mumbled through clenched teeth.

  “Then, why is your face contorting like that?” he snapped and gestured in the vicinity of her face.

  Jinx willed her furious blush to stay out of sight. “I need a quick favor before I grant the wish.”

  Her master’s face did some contortions of its own. He narrowed his eyes, curled his lips, and tightened his jaw. “What favor?”

  “I left something with my previous, uh, master and need to retrieve it.”

  Her master’s face became incredulous. “No,” he said bluntly. “Get it with magic.”

  Jinx closed her eyes for a moment, trying to create a clear explanation. “Um...” She hesitated. “It’s a religious article–they are impervious to magic.”

  “A religious article?” If it were possible, her master’s general disgust toward her magnified.

  “Yes. It’s a family heirloom. Please, master. Please.”

  He ran his hand through his hair as Jinx attempted to look beseechingly at him. Her expression didn’t appear to work. He snarled, “Get me out of here, to my basement in the Docklands. Now.”

  Jinx heard the command in his voice. Her magic did his bidding, immediately.

  In an instant, they were standing not in an invisible box over the streets of Mortlake, but in a dingy, musty and freezing basement. Genuinely distressed at the loss of her crucifix, Jinx surveyed her surroundings with growing misery. Her master didn’t seem to notice. He headed straight for a locked cupboard.

  “I need you to unlock this for me,” he snapped, rubbing his hands together briskly.

  Unable to refuse his need, Jinx sent a gentle wisp of smoke and unlocked the cupboard. Her master then started pulling things out and shoving them in a sports bag that until now lay discarded beside a manky-looking bed. The Hellcats appeared a moment later and leapt up onto the bed, watching her warily.

  “We cannot stay here for long,” he muttered, without glancing at her. “I’ll have to find a safe place until I’m ready to take the remainder of the wishes.”

  “Yes, master,” Jinx agreed dully.

  “Lucian,” he replied, not turning from his task.

  A spike of surprise sent a frisson of excitement through her. He told her his name.

  Small victories.

  “Lucian.” She took another deep breath. “Please, may I go and retrieve my crucifix?”

  “Crucifix?” he repeated coldly and turned to face her. Jinx felt as tiny and irritating as a flea under his merciless gaze but didn’t allow the sensation to dampen her resolve.

  “Yes.” She held her shoulders tight. “My crucifix. It’s the last thing I have from...from...home.”

  Lucian flared his nostrils and assessed her with his cool eyes. “You will not be going anywhere without me by your side. Do you understand?”

  “I understand.” Hell, she couldn’t disagree. Disappointment swamped her as a choking lump swelled in her throat.

  I will not cry in front of a master! I will not cry in front of a master! she chanted in her head. In spite of the many and varied indignities she’d suffered over the past years as a genie, Jinx had never let a master know her pain. She wasn’t going to start, now. She blinked and inhaled deeply.

  Lucian considered her for another moment. She held his gaze steadily, and miraculously, the lump in her throat shrunk.

  “In five minutes, we will go and get your crucifix.” The word slipped in his mouth like a dog turd beneath a shoe.

  Relief flooded her. Her legs tingled in anticipation, and she grinned joyfully. “Fantastic. Thanks,” she exclaimed. For the briefest moment, a look that wasn’t one of disgust or irritation flickered over Lucian’s face before he turned around and resumed his packing.

  For the next few minutes, Jinx waited anxiously for Lucian to finish shoving things into his bag and tried to get a glance at the items as he did. As Lucian’s hands transferred things from cupboard
to bag, she noticed a lot of jewelry, documents, wads of cash, and a veritable rainbow of credit cards. He was loaded.

  “So, what is this place?” she asked as he zipped up the sports bag.

  Lucian shoved the bag over his shoulder and looked at her as if she were demented.

  “What do you think it is?” he asked and waited pointedly for her response.

  “Uh.” Jinx looked around. The carpet was molding, the bed filthy, and the plaster was flaking off the walls. Yet, Lucian hid expensive and important things here. “Your hiding place?” she said finally.

  “Well done,” he said. “Next time, think before you ask such an infantile question. You obviously knew the answer. Do not waste my time anymore than you already are by requesting we go and retrieve your...jewelry.”

  Stung, Jinx glared at him. “I’m not wasting time.” He silenced her with a nasty glare. “Shall we go, then?” she muttered.

  “Yes.” He nodded curtly and stepped up close to her. As he approached, Jinx detected the sweet scent of her own magic lingering around him. Her magically-created sweater suited his broad shoulders, and the pants displayed his narrow waist to its best advantage. Her perfumed magic of star anise and cinnamon suited him. Jinx assessed him quietly. He’s hot. Her gaze met his for the briefest of seconds. His eyes were hard and unflinching, so she shrugged the thought away like a smelly towel. Lucian didn’t seem like the seducing type.

  Without waiting for his surly approval, she uttered the motus spell under her breath. Warm, spicy arms of smoke instantly shrouded them, and the tickling, moth-like flutters of the magic whisked them away.

  They arrived in a cloying puff of Jinx’s smoke outside Tim’s aunt’s house. The garden was very dark and bitterly cold. She deliberately chose not to appear inside. If Tim was awake, her sudden appearance could quite literally scare the crap out of him. Having once done so, and as amusing as it was, she didn’t want to have to be the one to clean it up, again. Through a crack in the floral curtains, she saw him slumped in front of the television, quite awake. She glanced at Lucian and knocked on the door.

  “Who is it?” Tim’s nasal voice called, slightly tremulous.

  “It’s me–Jinx.”

  There was a long wait. Lucian huffed impatiently behind her. She turned to face him. “Look, my old master may not remember me. It’s part of the genie curse.”

  Lucian raised an absurdly sexy eyebrow. “You seem memorable enough to me,” he commented, causing Jinx to stammer.

  “Oh, thanks.”

  “It wasn’t a compliment,” he rebuked coolly. “With a nose like that, you’re hard to miss.”

  Ouch.

  Suddenly, there was a shuffling of keys and chain, and the door opened a tiny crack.

  “Who?” Tim’s watery eyes peeked out.

  “It’s Jinx. The genie. I need to get something out of my luggage.”

  Lucian tapped his foot impatiently.

  “Your luggage?” Tim opened the door wide and stared at her. “You don’t look like Jinx.” His expression deepened into wariness. “Jinx was blonde.”

  She slumped her shoulders and uttered a spell. Her dark, chocolate brown hair shimmered and turned a false and garish platinum blonde. “There. Recognize me, now?”

  A smile tugged at the corner of Tim’s lips. “Ummm. No. There was something different about Jinx...”

  Sighing loudly, she uttered another spell, and her sturdy, Lebanese nose shrunk to a smaller, slightly snubbed one. “Better?” she hissed.

  She heard Lucian laugh softly. Tim stared at him cautiously but didn’t otherwise acknowledge him.

  “Nope. Jinx, was...was...better endowed than you.” He gestured to his chest with hands curled as if around large melons.

  In the corner of her eye, Jinx saw Lucian suddenly frown. Wordlessly, he stepped closer beside her.

  “Tim,” Jinx hissed. “Don’t fuck me around. You know it’s me. Let me in.”

  Tim chewed his lip, unable to remove his smirk. “No. Sorry. Jinx was different. You’re...similar, but, you know...the tits.”

  She gave him a brutal shove. “Stop being a dick.”

  Tim stumbled back but didn’t leave the doorway. “Then, do the tit thing. One last time?” His voice was whiny and held a note of pleading.

  “I can just magic my way in there,” Jinx growled. “I’m not some dumb vampire who needs your permission.”

  Tim smirked. “Yeah, but I’ve got what you came back for–your crucifix, right? You can’t summon religious items. Any retard knows that, and you don’t know where I’ve put it. C’mon, for old time’s sake.”

  Tim roved his hand to the front pocket of his jeans.

  “It’s in your bloody pocket, isn’t it?”

  His grin grew even wider. “Yep. Wanna come get it?” He thrust his crotch forward.

  The thought of crawling her hands deep into Tim’s pockets was repellent enough to make Jinx vomit. “I don’t think so.” She sighed, sensing Lucian’s increasing irritation at the delay. Jinx whispered the mamma amplificare spell, her face hot with shame. With a slight tingling, her breasts swelled, pulling the cloth of her dress and jacket taut. A whizzing ping sounded as a button flew off the jacket and ricocheted off the brick wall. “Is that better?” she hissed.

  “Yep.” Tim grinned. “Those are a fantastic pair of knockers.”

  She fought the urge to slap him. “Can I have it?” she asked, unable to contain the anger in her tone.

  “Sure.” Tim grinned and pulled her tiny crucifix on its thick heavy chain out of his pocket. He handed it to her soberly. “I’m going to miss you,” he said softly.

  Jinx frowned. “You’re going to miss fake tits, you stupid little prick. If that’s how you’re going to remember me, I’d rather not be remembered at all.” She snatched the crucifix and chain and shoved it in her pocket, then turned to face Lucian.

  “Ready?” she snapped.

  It was hard to gauge his expression in the gloom, but Lucian inclined his head wordlessly. He gazed at her tiny nose and magnified breasts. Jinx tightened her jaw with fury but couldn’t completely decipher the look. Growling softly under her breath, she muttered the motus spell. They appeared moments later back in Lucian’s dingy basement. This time, however, they weren’t alone.

  Chapter Three

  The scene that met them as they arrived in Lucian’s basement was nothing less than bizarre. As Jinx’s smoke dissipated, the sounds of fighting animals became deafening. Guttural growls, snarls, and hisses echoed all around them. Jinx stared in disbelief.

  “What?” she exclaimed as leather-skinned dogs crawled and snapped from everywhere.

  They were the size of greyhounds, with ferocious red eyes gleaming beneath heavy, gray, leather brows. Spikes raced down their vertebra, and their long hind legs curled and bunched with muscle. They snarled, revealing vampiric teeth. Whatever they were, they were hideous. Jinx noticed with a jolt of horror that Lucian’s Hellcats were covered with them, their flame-fur blazing beneath the masses of leather-skinned creatures. The stench of burnt toast was muted by a powerful, sulphurous odor rendering the atmosphere in the basement nearly toxic. She felt a cough start deep in her throat as she clawed at Lucian.

  “No,” Lucian cried and shook her off. With an angry glance at the leather creatures, he bent to retrieve the bag of his belongings.

  “No you don’t, Lucian,” a rumbling voice bellowed. Lucian’s usually fluid manner stiffened. From somewhere amongst the writhing beasts, an angry gnome appeared. “You’re coming with me.” The little man gazed at Jinx’s lamp. “A genie,” he chortled. “Give it to me, Lucian, and forgiveness will be yours.” The gnome jerked with a tic. “I promise.”

  Lucian looked incredulous. “Never,” he muttered and reached his hand down for hers. Despite the mayhem aro
und them, Jinx felt her body tighten at his sudden and unexpected touch. Her hand melded with his, warm and strong.

  “I’ve got to get you out of here,” she cried, coughing in the toxic atmosphere. It was a well-known fact that if a master died before bestowing wishes, his genie would be stuck in limbo, the lamp unable to be passed on. Although Jinx despised her life as a servile genie, she had no desire to exist without a cause. Lucian said something, but his voice was soft and difficult to understand. Suddenly, there was a bellow from one of the Hellcats. They stood as a visible fiery barrier sprang up between Lucian and Jinx and the snapping, snarling pack of leather beasts. The beasts closed in, silently obeying the angry-looking gnome. Hester’s fur sizzled and burned a patch in Jinx’s dress. “–Malaysia.” Lucian finished his sentence and threw a regretful glance at his Hellcats.

  “Malaysia?” Jinx tightened her hand around his, “Okay.” Without another word, her smoke surrounded them, shielding them just before the pack of creatures pounced once again at the Hellcats.

  As the fluttering, moth-like sensation of the motus spell receded, they found themselves swamped by humidity and heat. Jinx felt weak and hungry. Using magic over large distances was exhausting and draining. She slumped.

  “Chupacabras,” Lucian muttered and shook his head. “I don’t believe Pater Rex got them.”

  “Is that what they were?” Jinx sighed. She’d never heard of the creatures before. Dizziness swirled over her. “I need to get something to eat.”

  Lucian looked around, surveying their surroundings for the first time. He dropped her hand.

  “Where are we?” he asked angrily.

  They were in some sort of water-based theme park. Children were everywhere, creating noisy chaos as they rushed from ride-to-ride.

  “Uh, Malaysia?” Jinx replied cautiously, noticing the women were mostly wearing headscarves. Her eyes lingered on a woman with a small baby perhaps two months old. Her heart gave a sad flip-flop.

  “Where exactly in Malaysia?” Lucian asked. The frustration was palpable in his tone. He turned to face her. For a brief moment, he skimmed his gaze down her body. Jinx belatedly realized she hadn’t transformed back from blonde and buxom. A blush threatened to bloom on her face. She glared down the tiny nose at him.