Wish You Weren't Here
Page 1
Copyright © 2019 by Janeen Ippolito
www.janeenippolito.com
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The characters of Dizandra Lyrium and Casimir are the creative property of Sarah Delena White and have been used in this book with her express permission and approval in all their portrayals.
The characters of Allyn Dalca and Seren Takahashi are the creative property of Hannah Keeler and have been used in this book with her express permission and approval in all their portrayals.
Line Editing: Sarah McConahy
Proofreading/eBook formatting: Sarah Delena White
Typesetting: Julia Busko
Cover Design: Rachel A. Marks
Dedication
To Julia Busko.
A great friendship borne of a mutual appreciation of vampires.
Your boldness always inspires me.
Wish You Weren’t Here
Janeen Ippolito
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Prologue
You can’t always blame the past. Even though that’s what Fae, and immortals in general, love to do the most.
Wanna kill a guy? Blame it on a feud or an unpaid debt or him staring at you cross-eyed during some fateful moon cycle. Wanna abduct a girl to be your wife or a one-night fling? The same reasons can still apply. And of course, you can swap the “guy” and “girl” spots, if you want. All that crap, and worse, happens across the board among immortals. I chalk it up to boredom.
And yet, I’m guilty of the same damn thing. For me, the past is a convenient trash can in which to throw everything I don’t like about my life and forget about it. Forever, if I can get away with it. Life experiences are only good for making sure you cut out people who burned you—and making sure you pay your car registration on time to avoid a ticket.
Not that I have a car. Being half-genie—wait, half-Jinn—has the perk of teleportation, which feeds into my short attention span and impatience suited to a thirty-something whippersnapper. At least among immortals.
My ex-boyfriend is the genie. Full-blood Jinn. Full of trouble and sarcasm and waywardness. Sometimes, downright meanness.
And I’m still wondering how I ended up roped into saving his life after he walked back into mine. Maybe that was another past mistake I shouldn’t be repeating.
Chapter 1
You know it’s gonna be a rough night when your unstable magic somehow makes your ex show up in your dreams. Especially when you’re sleeping in the arms of your new husband while you lucid dream together. I’ve lucid dreamed for as long as I can remember. It lets me have marvelous fun in my dreams, including the current one. I was feeding a polka-dotted penguin goldfish crackers from my hand while eating from an ice cream cone flavored with coffee, sunshine, and the taste of freshly-cured bacon.
“Nevermore,” a voice croaked in my ear, with a flutter of feathers.
And of course, a raven on my shoulder. Who was my mate, Cendric Antalek, and who was currently pecking curiously at my ice cream. I raised my eyebrows at him. “A bit cliché, don’t you think?”
“A classic phrase,” he retorted. He pecked at the cone again. “The bacon flavor in this needs to be more burnt.”
“Hey, you were the one who wanted to combine dreams tonight. No picking on my ice cream flavors. You could always make your own, Cid.”
“Dreamscape.” He gave a squawk. “And no, I can’t, not quite yet. We’re still not bonded enough to create mutually. Your magic—”
“Is in a special place of special.” As usual, with Jinn magic. For some reason, it just didn’t want to connect. I sighed and fed the nearest penguin another goldfish cracker. “Hey, at least you can be a raven here.”
Cendric gave an affirming warble and cuddled closer to my dishwater blonde hair, which fell to my shoulders. Outside of dreams, my husband’s raven soul dwelled within a vampire form, a result of his being turned over a century ago. He could manifest wings but could not shift. Having grown up with an otter shifter half-brother, I knew the toll not shifting could take on a shifter’s soul, so I was glad Cid had the option here. And it was fun to have him on my shoulder as we explored the dreamspace.
Dreamscape. Whatever. The place between death and dreams that raven shifters and a handful of other magical races could travel in. Thanks to a quirk of crazy Jinn magic, I could hop to that place as well, even during the day. Over the last seven weeks of our marriage, Cendric and I had been exploring the Dreamscape. We discovered it not only allowed us to connect to each other more, but it was a way for Cendric to enjoy his raven form, and for me to explore my magic without harming others.
He tugged at a lock of my hair. “You should try something here.”
“I dunno.” I patted a penguin on the head. “I wouldn’t even know where to start. I mean, creating things here is natural. It’s dreams.”
“Perhaps your fire?”
“What am I supposed to set on fire? A penguin? Not happening.”
Cendric yanked harder on my hair, though still not enough to hurt. “Not a penguin, although you don’t even know if the flames would harm it.”
“You don’t know they won’t.”
“True, that would be terrible. Perhaps aim at one of the fur-covered palm trees behind us, the ones with umbrellas as leaves.” He squawked. “Your imagination truly is quite extraordinary.”
“That’s one word for it.” In the Dreamscape, things were safe. Outside the Dreamscape, in the city of Pittsburgh, my wily imagination was getting me into worse and worse trouble, as my uppity magic had a field day turning stray thoughts into unwanted realities. Not the best way to attract people to my romantic consulting business, or to gain support when I joined Cid in his work as the city’s blood binder. Whenever that would be. I frowned at the sparkly-diamond pavement embedded with gummy worms and bits of fleece blanket.
Cid’s suggestions still tugged at me, urging me on. I didn’t feel like fighting them.
“Okay, we’ll try something.” I stood up, brushing my palms off on my shorts and twitching at my tank top. Completely necessary gestures for gearing up to fling fire at a furry palm tree to see what happened. “Okay, I need to focus, Cid.”
He flew off my shoulder and shifted into his half form, with large raven wings emerging from his bare back. Long black hair with a sense of feathers about it framed his pale, angular face marked by slivered piercings in each eyebrow, a nose ring, a lip ring, and another piercing in his chin. His eyes were fully black: deep pools of trickery, compassion, and unknowable secrets. All that and pants that hugged his lean, muscled form just right.
I rolled my eyes.
“Really?”
“Is there a problem?” His voice had returned to his usual warm, cultured tones.
“I said I have to focus, and then you go and look all hot and irresistible.”
“A burden you will have to bear. Although, in terms of distracting physique, you share the blame, particularly with those copious freckles adorning your skin.” He gave me a once-over complete with a flash of sharp fang. My heart skipped a beat. Way too sexy. “Now set fire to the umbrella palm trees.”
“Orders, orders.”
I turned toward the nearest tree and flung my palms out. Deep blue smokeless flames immediately engulfed my arms and hands, eagerly licking the air, desperate for release. The curse-mark Cendric had broken almost two months ago had been intense, so I should have figured I’d have magic to spare for centuries. But it still weirded me out just how alive, how powerful that magic was.
“Here goes nothing!”
The sapphire flames shot out at the tree, immediately enveloping and consuming it, breaking it down into an empty white space. A grin stretched my face, and a giggle escaped me. Jinn magic brought along with it a love of destruction and creation. I was trying to wrangle that love in positive ways, but sometimes it felt good just to let loose.
For a moment, I was as free and fearless as Cendric in his raven form. I held endless exploding prisms of magic and possibility within my grasp. Exploring every atom and element, bending them to my will or allowing myself to rush along with their ceaseless current. The constant symphony of searing heat and breathless cold.
Next to me, Cendric spoke quietly. “Very good. Now call the magic back to you. Undo the damage and restore the tree.”
Annoyance filled me. “Man, that sounds boring. Can’t I make it something else?”
It longed, craved to be something else. Shaped into something glorious.
I saw him shake his head out of the corner of my eye. “You mentioned having problems restoring objects in the real world. Here you can practice.”
Cendric wasn’t a Jinn, but he was a natural rule-maker and follower, way more than I was. I didn’t mind that. It was useful when my brain went into chaotic neutral mode. Plus, Cid was a lawyer, which meant he could bend those rules on occasion. But I couldn’t mask my disgust at having to put my broken toy back together. Especially when there really weren’t any consequences here.
Still, he was right. I had to admit that.
“Augh. Fine.”
He chuckled. “A time for everything under the sun.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I sighed and focused my mind on the space where the tree had been. It now was a gaping hole of nothingness. Okay, time to fix this.
I imagined what the tree had been before, covered in leopard-print fur topped with striped umbrellas. Be restored.
Nothing happened. The sapphire flames only flickered merrily back at me around the large, empty space.
I glared at them. “Come on, go back to the way you were. Be fixed!”
Slowly, reluctantly, the flames arced across the empty space, re-forming the shape of the palm tree. Each of the molecules popping back into place, steadily moving faster and faster. A smile spread across my face. Not as much fun as fresh creation, but there was still a rush to seeing my magic work and listen to me, for once.
Then the whole tree was flooded with brilliant sapphire light, like someone had put the trunk on strobe feature.
“Allis, did you—?”
“It’s not me, Cid!” I sucked in a breath, trying to control the blasts of magic and light. “Stop it, stupid flames!”
The magic only fluctuated more rapidly, adding orange flickers that coalesced around a new shape. Something far less tree-like and far more human—and male. Doc Martens and paint-splattered jeans entered my field of vision. A plain white t-shirt clung to warm-washed sepia skin, and the dark eyes that stared down at me were framed by familiar thick brows and unruly black curls. My gut clenched. It couldn’t be.
Finally, the flashing stopped. And there stood Kiran Singh. My ex-boyfriend.
“What the hell?” Cendric breathed next to me.
“It has to be an old memory,” I muttered. Kiran and I had broken up ages ago—okay, nine months ago. Long enough that I shouldn’t be remembering him so keenly, or still be attracted to him. This memory must’ve been the second cocktail at the club the night before. I’d wondered what Jack had put into it.
Augh, just what I needed: my latest ex showing up via memory in front of my forever guy in our Dreamscape. Well, if this was my dream, I could kick out a memory. “Kir, no. Get out of here.”
He only glanced around in disbelief at the setting. His eyes flitted over Cendric dismissively and settled on me.
“Still with the polka-dotted penguins?” He folded his sinewy arms across his chest, giving me a smirk. “I remember you telling me about this dream. You’d think after all this time, you’d come up with something fresher.”
“Can’t outdo a classic,” I sniffed.
I pushed my palm out in a shunning gesture.
Nothing. He remained.
A frown tugged at my lips. Usually that worked. Maybe it was time for a double dose of assertiveness. I thrust out both hands, adding a “begone!” for good measure.
A chuckle escaped him, lighting his square-jawed face for a moment. “What are
you doing, Sandy?”
“Getting you out of here!” I glared at him. “This is my dream.”
“Our dream,” Cendric corrected, his voice taking on a harsher tone.
I nodded. “Yup, that’s right!” I took a step toward Kiran. “You’re a figment of my imagination.” Another step, this one bringing me up close. All the better for him to feel my wrath. “So go!”
I pushed my hands against his chest. He caught them, holding me in a firm grip, his eyes suddenly intense. “You always were good at pushing me away.”
“You were stringing me along. I had better things to do with my life than be the hidden fling of some spoiled Jinn misanthrope with the integrity of a toadstool.” I yanked my hands away—not possible in real life, because Kir was stronger than me, but possible here. Because it was our space, not Kiran’s. “Now get out. I’ve moved on.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the penguins waddle away and hide in their cove made of shoeboxes filled with emerald ice cubes. Above me, the bright sunny day turned cold, the mango-scented air turning to rancid milk. Augh, why did the Dreamscape have to match my mood?
Had to be that second cocktail.
I shoved past Kiran—or tried to. He grabbed my hand on the way. “Wait, Sandy! We need to talk!”
“She already denied you, Jinn.” Cendric yanked his hand away. “Now leave, foul figment.”
Kiran spared him a look for the first time. “Are you sure I’m a figment, Blood Lord?”
Instead of an immediate reply, my mate tilted his head to one side, his black eyes glittering with curiosity. “Your magic isn’t consistent with such. But that only means you are even more of an intruder.”
“I had no choice.” Kiran scowled. “The magic was strong enough that I could sneak in somehow, and she can’t control or detect me here.”
“Who can’t?” I pressed my lips together. Around us, the air was heavy with promised rain, flickering with lighting. “Kir, what’s going on? Last I checked, you were all ga-ga over some genie woman.”
“That wasn’t—” His words cut off abruptly, like someone had choked him. Desire mixed with frustration and fierce determination flared across his face. “I’ve been doing all I can, but she’s consuming so many people.”
“Who? The chick you were dating?”
“No,” he sneered. “Listen, Sandy. She consumed me, for a while. And as it turned out, I had an ace in the hole she didn’t see.” He stared down at me. “I didn’t even see you, not really. I’d never seen—you deserved more than that, Sandy.”
“It’s too late, dude.”
Cendric moved closer to me in nonverbal ag
reement.
“Not for everything.” Kiran raised a hand as if to touch me, then glared at Cendric. “Your wings might have been clipped, but you can never tame the magic of a Jinn.”
I swallowed hard. Something in his reckless words stirred the crazy in me. “Kir, what are you talking about? What did you do?”
“What I had to do,” he said. “I told you I could fix anything. And it was all for you, only it didn’t work at the time. But it’s working now, enough for me to come here. That must mean something.”
He couldn’t be serious. “I’m mated.” I held up my left forearm, with the intricate black tattoo of bloody roses and flames that signified my magical bond with Cendric. He bore the same on his left forearm. “You said when I left that you respected my decision.”
“I respected your reasons for leaving. That ensnarement” —Kiran glanced at the tattoo— “is another matter entirely. It shouldn’t be possible.”
“Jealous because it isn’t connecting me to you?”
“Hardly. And I don’t have time for this.” Kiran’s jaw worked. “There are no other options.”
Cendric’s voice was raspy, close to birdlike. “Explain yourself.”
Kiran’s eyes met mine, then suddenly he reached out for me. Glittering orange flames leaped from his hands and landed on my chest, spreading out in an exhilarating, infuriating rush. My own deep blue flames emerged, fighting his off—or dancing with them? Maybe both, considering the odd rushes of anger and desire pulsing through me.
A bone-chilling screech escaped from Cendric. Shadowy magic moved from him, breaking the bond, and I sagged down in relief, chest heaving with anger and confusion.
A strangled cry broke from Kiran. As I watched, red flames burned vicious paths across his skin, searing his flesh. The smell of burnt meat and scalded bone filled the air.
“Kiran!”
“Her curse,” he grunted. “It found me. Even here.”
As he forced the words out, his skin was consumed in the red inferno, leaving muscles dripping from marrow, then only the skeletal frame beneath it all. Hollow eye sockets stared at me, still carrying a hint of his dark gaze.