You Wish (Rise of the Discordant Book 3)

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You Wish (Rise of the Discordant Book 3) Page 5

by Christina McMullen


  “Ah, au contraire and all that jazz.” Suddenly the rather oddball combination she was toting made sense. Too much sense. “If you think yous is gonna set a trap for Howie in my digs, you got another think coming. I ain’t runnin’ a hotel up there.”

  “Hey, don’t look at me!” she protested. “I’m just the expert caster. Desmond was the one who decided where we would set up containment.”

  “Is that so?” Of course it was Desmond’s idea. Des doing somethin’ to inconvenience me was as surprising as noodles in a ramen factory. I scooted past Blondie and headed down into the bar. No surprise, there was Donna and Des talking to Betty, who got up and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

  “Hi Hubert. What’s going on? I wasn’t even finished getting ready when Donna came by and dragged me away.”

  I took a step back, admiring the view and cursing out Des for cutting into my very limited free time. Outta the corner of my eye, I happened to notice that I weren’t the only one giving Betty the appreciative once over. Uncle Howie was lurking in the corner next to his new master. Jem weren’t lookin’ too hot, but at the moment, he weren’t the problem.

  “Hey, hows about you put your eyeballs back in yer head before I forget we is family?”

  “Hey! I ain’t dead,” he protested.

  “Not yet, you isn’t,” I warned.

  “Don’t worry. I got this,” Betty whispered with a wink before throwing a little somethin’ in ol’ Howie’s direction. I don’t know what she did. Don’t wanna know neither, but all of the sudden that purple shade he’d been wearing turned a more violent violet. I was pretty sure I saw smoke coming from his uncomfortable regions and I was darn sure no one’s face twisted like that on its own.

  “Wowzers.” I let out a low whistle. “Should I be worried?”

  “You gonna give me a reason to find out?”

  “No ma’am!”

  “Since we’re all here…” Desmond cut in, ruining what little serendipity I were sneaking in. I followed his line of sight to where the unlikeliest crew of Seth, Myrna, and Nai had just walked through the door. Seth was lookin’ a little green around the gills and even the unflappable Nai seemed to be having trouble keeping down her breakfast. I gave a small chuckle. Myrna must’ve insisted on driving ‘em.

  “Yeah about that, since we’re all here,” I cut in, giving Des a glare. “You might perhaps tell me what you gots planned before charging in here bossin’ folks around.”

  “I own the building, I am your boss, and as I see it, I’m not charging in anywhere,” Des said, wearing a smug smile that was just begging to be knocked off his mug. “We need a containment vessel big enough to house your esteemed uncle, seeing as he can’t return to the realm. Were it up to me, he’d be contemplating his navel up close and personal in a mayonnaise jar. However it is not up to me and Jem happens to have a bit more compassion than I do.”

  “Okay, yeah, I get that,” I said, waving my hands around. “I got that when I nearly mowed down Blondie on the stairs a few minutes ago. What I wanna know is why here? Why my apartment?”

  “Hey! Is this how you treat your favorite uncle?”

  “Look, it ain’t nothin’ against you,” I lied. “I just value my privacy is all.”

  “You can always find someplace else to live,” Desmond warned.

  “Okay, listen,” Seth cut in sharply as everyone’s voices rose in both volume and pitch, mine included. “Bogie, I’m sorry and I understand the inconvenience, but confining your uncle to your apartment serves to alleviate several problems for us. Not the least of which is keeping Jem from making a dangerous mistake.”

  “How is that supposed to happen?” I weren’t kidding when I said the kid was lookin’ rough.

  “Jem doesn’t have any reason to be near the bar and with someone to talk to, Slick won’t be as finely attuned to all of Jem’s thoughts,” Des said by way of explanation.

  “Wait a minute.” I started piecing things together. “Somethin’ ain’t right here. I thought the djinn weren’t able to do nothin’ when they was in their bottles?”

  “Jem’s soul is partially Discordant,” Seth explained. “The contract created something of a direct connection.”

  “Geez, kid. You can’t never catch no breaks, can you?”

  “Eurgh,” was Jem’s attempt to answer and not toss his proverbial cookies.

  “Hey, don’t be so modest, kid,” Uncle Howie said, slapping Jem on the back. “No joke, he’s doing one hell of a job keeping a lid on his desires. If I were a teenage boy with a djinn to do my bidding, it’d be hot tubs and an endless supply of naked womens.”

  “What do you mean if you was a teenage boy?” I asked. “Like that ain’t what you’d do right now if you had the chance. Any who, and no offense, Uncle Howie, but how is it you’re still hangin’ around anyway? I mean, Des weren’t exactly shy about trying to kill you back in L.A.”

  “Uh, that’s my fault,” Jem muttered, turning a shade of red that clashed hideously with Howie’s purple. “I mean… I don’t want Howie to die! I just…”

  “I can’t safely kill him,” Des added with enough disgust to tell me the thought mighta crossed his mind more than once. “Which is another reason he needs to be here. Were I to forget this, Jem’s soul would once again be susceptible to becoming a portal. The more I’m around Slick, the likelier I am to make a mistake.”

  “Ah. Geez. Well, that ain’t no good now, is it? Well, I feel for ya, kid,” I started, but Seth cut me off.

  “It’s just a temporary solution until we can find a different way to break the debenture,” Seth told me, but he weren’t too good at lying and he knew that I knew that temporary was a vague term at best.

  “Uh huh,” I said, showing him how convinced I wasn’t. But it didn’t matter none and I knew it. I knew that everything, from my job to the apartment to my continued existence, were at the mercy of Desmond’s whims. “Lemme just go unlock the door,” I said with hopefully enough resignation to at least make ‘em feel somewhat guilty. I let the girls and Jem into my apartment and headed back down to the bar, giving a hairy eyeball to the rest of the crew.

  “What? The rest of yous ain’t gonna go up?”

  “We’re damage control should something go wrong,” Myrna informed me.

  “Not that it’s likely anything will go wrong,” Seth said a little too hastily, sliding a pointed look over at Myrna.

  “Uh huh.” Whatever. I pulled on an apron and went behind the bar. We didn’t open for a few more hours, but since I had nothin’ better to do, I figured I could get stocked and ready. Uncle Howie, it seemed, had other ideas as he floated up to the bar. He musta had a set of steel you-know-whats to get that close to that many bottles in djinn form.

  “Seeing as were going to be roomies, it might make sense for us to clear up some unfinished business,” he said, puffin’ himself up like he was gonna put the squeeze on me.

  I shoulda known it was the money what made him disregard the bottle danger. When it came to the green stuff, Great Uncle Howie had tunnel vision.

  “Now hows about we settle up on the wager we made going on several some years ago?”

  “I told you,” I said. “I ain’t gonna pay out when you clearly cheated. Ain’t no way that were a fair round.”

  “This again? You know that blind loyalty to your home team don’t make for the best odds.”

  “Blind loyalty ain’t got nothin’ to do with it. Those guys was-”

  “Bogie,” Des cut in. “I saw the same series you did. The Lakers just weren’t playoff material that year. Now, how much do you owe Slick?”

  I was thrown for a loop. Des ain’t never took Howie’s side on nothin’!

  “Uh, weren’t much…” I stammered.

  “Four hundred bucks,” bellowed Uncle Howie. “One for every game lost.”

  “Is that so?” There were an unmistakable glint in Des’ eye that I didn’t trust. “Four hundred dollars is just about half the rent on the apartment. Seeing as
Bogie’s already paid for the next month, looks like he’s covered what he owes you.”

  “Oh!” I started fake coughing to cover my amusement at the sudden turn of events.

  “What? You can’t charge me rent!”

  “Can’t I?” Desmond asked, pulling somethin’ outta his pocket and began flipping it around all casual like. Uncle Howie noticed before I did that it were a teeny tiny bottle with a cork stopper.

  “You can’t do that to me!” Howie balked. “You ain’t got the power to override the kid!”

  “Try me,” growled Des, tucking the bottle back in his pocket. “Still got a problem with the rent?”

  But before he could answer, Great Uncle Howie blinked outta existence.

  “Uh… Did you just…?” I started, but Des shook his head and stood up.

  “I think that means the spell worked. Come on.”

  Sure enough, Uncle Howie was standing in the middle of my living room, surrounded by a circle of hocus-pocus. He looked over at the kitchen and then down the short hall to the bedrooms before finding Des.

  “Four hundred for half of this? That’s robbery!”

  He was right, but I weren’t gonna be the one to tell him I didn’t pay anywhere near eight hundred dollars a month for this rat hole.

  “Like your place in L.A. was any bigger or cheaper?” I reminded him.

  “Yeah, but this ain’t Los Angeles,” he needlessly reminded me.

  “Well, it looks like it worked,” Louise cut in, beaming from ear to ear. “I told you it’s better to know a little about everything than a lot about some things!”

  That mighta been true, but I didn’t miss the little eye roll Betty and Donna shared behind Blondie’s back. After they went through about eighty different experiments to make sure the wards would hold, I was finally able to shoosh everybody outta my apartment.

  Well, almost everybody.

  “You got the internet?” asked Uncle Howie, making himself right at home by poking his nose into every nook and cranny of my itty bitty private space.

  “We got wifi for the bar, but I ain’t got no computer.”

  “Sheesh, what’s with these third world conditions!” he moaned and grabbed the remote, flipping through to the pay channels with the movies that weren’t exactly family friendly, if ya get my meaning. I weren’t gonna stick around to see which one he picked. We was close, but not that close.

  * * *

  “So what’s on the agenda this evening?” I asked Donna, making small talk after I scooted the last straggler out of the bar.

  “Oh, just the usual,” she said, rolling her eyes a little. “Couple of vamps were spotted earlier and the pixies are getting a little too bold with Halloween coming up. How ‘bout you? Planning a night of family bonding?”

  “Oh, very funny,” I said. “Go on then and let me lock up. Knowin’ my luck, he’s already run up my cable bill with pay-per-view movies.”

  Once Donna took off, I did another sweep of the alleyway to make sure nothin’ unsavory was hangin’ around. With the coast clear, I locked up the back door and cut the lights before heading up to Chaos-only-knows what in my apartment.

  “Hey there, handsome.”

  I nearly jumped outta my skin when I heard a low, husky, and unfamiliar voice come up real sudden-like behind me.

  “Hey, ah… Who’s…”

  Getting a hold of myself, I spun around and immediately tripped over a chair that had jumped in my way. Before I could get up, a not at all unpleasant weight pinned me to the ground and I heard a very familiar giggle.

  “Did I scare you?”

  “Weren’t so much scared as startled,” I said, lookin’ up at Betty’s playful smile and liking what I was seeing. “And not in a bad way,” I added, shifting ever so slightly so as my behind weren’t jammed into the table leg no more. “What did I do to deserve this?”

  “Oh, nothing. I was just feeling a little bad about our date getting ruined earlier…” she trailed off with a suggestive look.

  “Oh yeah?” I said, already mentally double-checking whether or not I had clean bed sheets, when reality came crashing down. Weren’t no way I was bringing Betty back to my place what with Uncle Howie hanging around. “Ah hell,” I sighed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Privacy,” I said, with a disgusted look toward the stairs.

  “I was thinking you could come to my place,” she said with a suggestive wiggle of the eyebrows.

  “Don’t you dames have a ‘no sleepover’ policy?”

  “Well yeah, but Donna’s going to be out all night helping Desmond, and Louise had two bottles of wine and a whole cheesecake earlier. I’m willing to risk it if you are.”

  “Uh, let’s see, spend the night in the company of a beautiful woman or hang out with my uncle watching pay-per-view pornos. Gee, tough choice.”

  “Maybe this will help you decide,” she whispered real seductive-like and planted one hell of a smolderin’ kiss on my lips. I mean, I weren’t no innocent schoolboy, but wowzers! It felt like the whole world was shakin’. Except suddenly that weren’t no hyperbole. The world really was shakin’!

  “What the heck?”

  Betty pulled away from me and looked around as all the glasses in the bar started clinking against each other. She jumped up as a bottle crashed to the floor, shattering behind the bar like a bad metaphor for my chances of getting some sweet lovin’.

  “This is bad.” Betty already had her phone out and I assumed she was texting the other witches.

  “Yeah, you ain’t kiddin’,” I grumbled, but she was already on her feet.

  “Oh, Hubert, I’m sorry,” she said, giving me a pout that would make me forget a good many things. “But we can’t just ignore this. Especially not now.”

  Sadly, I couldn’t argue with her. I knew as well as anyone why the earthquakes was happening and what that meant in regards to seeing some of my less than pleasant contemporaries. Of course, as surly as I was feeling about the interruption, I kinda hoped we did run into some of ‘ems.

  “Alright then,” I grumbled. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 5

  A Perfect Paradox

  The sharp sting of cold rain against my face made me once again long for the predictable and mild temperatures of southern California. October was fast approaching, bringing miserable weather and longer nights. Soon enough, the rain was going to turn to snow and the temperatures, already lower than I was used to, were going to plunge. Unfortunately, the Discordant did not hibernate. If anything, the seasonal depression that would inevitably settle in would become a metaphorical siren song for the blasted creatures of Chaos. This was one of the many reasons I was determined to take care of Slick before I was up to my neck in vampires, banshees, and winter fairies. Unfortunately, at that moment, I had other vermin to deal with.

  When it came to the Discordant, I was relatively equal opportunity in my dislike. There was however, one exception. Because they had a hand in orchestrating the biggest regret of my life, werewolves would always have a special place in the deepest, darkest, and most hate-filled corner of my heart.

  I’d managed to avoid wolves for nearly a century while working in Los Angeles, but Blackbird was like a magnet for the flea-bitten bastards. Seemed like for every wolf I killed, four more would show up. I really didn’t understand why either. Blackbird was already messed up enough that wolves weren’t needed to spread despair.

  After killing my sixth or seventh wolf (I’d lost count by then), I hit upon a thought as to what was attracting them. I was about to send a message to Arkady when the ground I was standing on tried to shift out from under me. Not even a full five minutes later, my phone lit up with text messages from the witches and Seth.

  Earthquakes, I had been told, were happening with greater frequency in Blackbird. Having lived through some of the worst quakes in history, it was at times difficult to bite my tongue when the witches, especially Betty, went on about the dangers of fracking. While it was tr
ue that such instabilities weakened the wall between realms, it was unlikely that the insignificant shifting we were experiencing would do much, if anything at all.

  But when the second quake hit moments later, even I couldn’t deny that something big had happened. Not only was there obvious physical damage in the buckling of the asphalt where I stood, but there was also an energy shift so massive that I would not be surprised if it was felt by both magical and non-magical folks alike.

  I had witnessed far greater quakes in my life, but none had produced this level of magical energy. I thought for a moment that I might have been at the center of the quake, but that would not have made sense. If Betty was to be believed, and fracking was the sole cause of Blackbird’s instabilities, I would have suspected the epicenter to be near the fracking site, which was on the far west side, beyond the university. I was on the south side, near the bend in the river, at the site of the old paper mill that had once sustained Blackbird’s economy. Yet, I could not deny what I felt, and what I felt was a shift coming from the remnants of the old mill itself.

  I heard Donna’s Buick before I saw the headlights turn off the main road. She’d been over on the west side taking care of the wolves and pixies that always seemed to pop up near the university.

  “Where’s Louise? And what the hell are you doing here?” I asked as two thirds of the coven and Bogie piled out of the car.

  “Comatose,” Betty answered. “The poor girl has an early meeting, so if the quake didn’t wake her, I wasn’t going to.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why you’re here and not making sure your uncle isn’t up to something,” I growled at Bogie.

  “Seth’s on his way over to check on Uncle Howie. I’m here ‘cuz this ain’t no regular quake as you mighta guessed.” He added something else in a low, inaudible mumble that sounded a lot like the words ‘ruined date’ and several ineffectual hexes in my general direction, but went suddenly mute when I casually kicked his binding spell up a notch or two.

  “So why are we over here?” asked Donna. “Wouldn’t the fracking site be a better place to start our investigating?”

 

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