If one felt the need to go poking around in all of the nooks and crannies of the building, they might even find a bottle or two of Irish whisky socked away and forgotten.
Dae had owned the building and the land it stood on for centuries and had now seen about a ten million percent return on his initial investment.
The Blackbird was situated smack in the middle of the city’s nightlife district and its vintage art deco style was pulling in high-end clientele on a daily basis.
He poured himself a few fingers of a 12-year scotch that tasted far too much like day-old fish. He dumped it and poured an 18-year and took a tentative sip. Smooth, rich. Just the way he liked it.
With one gulp, he drained the glass and poured another. But this time, he spiked it with a shot of ginger oil.
Jinn could only get drunk on ginger and right now, that was exactly what Dae wanted. He wanted to feel his body go numb and his mind go quiet. He didn’t want to think about Ashley with James. And he sure as hell didn’t want to think about Ashley from last night.
Fuck.
Too late.
Drink in hand, he went around the bar and took a seat on one of the stools. The bar was quiet. Eerily still. If Dae closed his eyes and focused on a memory, he could almost conjure the sound of the jukebox and the cacophony of revelry.
If he had to pick his favorite era, he’d likely choose the 20s. It was a time of freedom and revolution.
Sometimes Dae wanted to return to it.
It would be a hell of a lot easier than what he was currently feeling.
How the hell had he gotten himself so wrapped up in Ashley Laurent?
She was a deal.
A mark.
And yeah, he slept with marks occasionally. But he never felt this way afterward. Lost and envious. Though he couldn’t decide exactly who he was envious of. James? Because he was mortal and had Ashley? Or Ashley? Because she’d gotten exactly what she wanted?
Sometimes, Dae wanted to have his own wish, to snap his fingers and have exactly what he wanted.
And what do you want? Ashley? Or one of her wishes?
Both.
He wanted everything.
He downed his glass and started to feel that warm honeyed feeling all over his body. It reminded him of Ashley and—
“Goddamn it,” he said to no one since he was fucking alone.
Stop thinking about her, he admonished himself and poured more scotch, more ginger.
He started to forget a little.
With a snap of his fingers, the jukebox flickered on, the neon lights glowing like a fever dream. Frank Sinatra played through the sound system. Frank had been one of Dae’s marks. Frank had wished to be famous. Dae had given it to him. It was a wish he’d granted without twisting it. For some reason, Dae had liked Frank. And look, it turned out well for everyone.
The front door opened, the bell above ringing. Dae looked up and saw Poe stumble in with a gaggle of girls behind him.
“Oh,” Poe said. “Didn’t know you were here.”
Dae was feeling better than he’d felt in weeks. He smiled and lifted his glass. “Well last I checked, brother, I own the fucking place, don’t I?”
Poe sighed. “That you do.”
The girls went quiet behind him.
“Mind if we join you?” Poe said.
“Don’t care,” Dae answered as the jukebox switched records and Elvis’s Hound Dog came on.
Elvis had been Red’s mark. Red had never told the brothers what Elvis had wished for, but he had said it’d had nothing to do with music.
The girls spilled in around Poe like he was a rock in a river and they were the current. Dae tried to focus on their faces, but his eyes were heavy and the world was spinning, and anyway, what did their faces matter?
“Are you drunk?” Poe asked when he slid onto the stool next to Dae bringing with him his Black Forest scent.
“No. You’re drunk.”
“I assure you, I am not.” Poe snapped his fingers. A shot of tequila appeared at hand. “What’s got you down?”
“Who says I’m down?” Dae swayed on his seat as he tried to straighten and look normal.
“You’re sitting alone in a bar you own getting drunk at one in the afternoon.”
“I’m not alone. You’re here. And look, you brought a bunch of people with you who are also getting drunk at one in the afternoon.”
Sure enough, the girls were already behind the bar mixing themselves drinks. Probably this little impromptu gathering would cost him a few thousand dollars in product, but what the fuck did he care? He didn’t care about anything right now. He didn’t want to feel.
“True enough.” Poe lit a cigarette, the burning tobacco drowning out the smell of his jinn magic.
“Except why did you come here?” Dae asked. Had he known Dae was here wallowing? Had he come to twist the knife? Tell him what an idiot he was for falling for a mortal?
I didn’t fall for her.
I fall for no one.
Poe looked around. “The Blackbird reminds me of Ma.”
Dae snorted and turned on his bar stool. He hunched over his drink and tried to keep his thoughts straight and his eyes open. “I don’t know why it reminds you of her. She died in 1887. She didn’t even get to see the twenties.”
“It’s not the style of the period.” Poe took a hit from his cigarette. “It’s the rebellion of the era that reminds me of her.”
Dae nodded. “She had always gone left when the world went right.”
“That she did.” He swiveled in his bar stool to face Dae. Cigarette clutched between his fingers, he said, “Tell me why you’re here getting drunk at one in the afternoon.”
“Ashley.” Dae bit his tongue to keep from feeling anything other than the sharp pain in his chest.
Smoke curled around Poe’s face as he brought the cigarette back up. “Your mark?”
Dae nodded.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes you do.”
Dae took in a breath. What was he supposed to say? He couldn’t say he’d fallen for Ashley. He’d only known her a few days. But then why did it feel like his heart was being cut out of his chest with a shucking knife? Why did it feel like he was connected to her by a taut string and even now, when he was miles and miles away from her, he still felt her?
He didn’t want to feel anything at all. He wanted to go back to where he was five days ago when the only thing he needed to solve and fix was Red.
Red was the one who mattered.
Not some mortal girl whose existence equaled barely a blip in Dae’s long life.
In a hundred years, she would be dust in the ground and he would have forgotten about her.
“Did she refuse you?” Poe asked. “To use a wish for Red?”
“I didn’t get the chance to ask her.”
Poe took another hit from his cigarette and then made the still-glowing butt disappear with a wave of his hand. “Are you going to ask her?”
“I don’t know. I think so. Maybe. I don’t know.”
Poe nodded at the short blond girl behind the bar. “That’s my mark. I’m planning to ask her for a wish today. I think she’ll give it to me. Among other things.” Poe grinned a lecherous grin. “So don’t worry about Red, brother. We’ll save him.”
Dae nodded. Fucking hell, did his head feel heavy.
He needed to stand up. So he did, but then regretted it.
“I’m gonna go lie down.”
“Want company?” Poe asked. “I’m sure one of the girls would love to join you.”
Dae’s stomach twisted, thinking of having anyone other than Ashley. “No thanks.”
“All right then. Mind if we stay?”
Dae shuffled to the dark lounge beyond the bar. “Stay as long as you want. Just don’t bankrupt my bar.”
Poe snorted. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
The lounge was a windowless room with a domed ceiling that was cov
ered in twinkling lights to resemble the night sky. More lighting ran behind one long booth on the far wall and gave off a steady golden glow. Dae collapsed on the booth, the leather groaning beneath him as he settled in.
He’d give Ashley a few more hours with her husband. He’d let her settle into the life she wanted before he barged back in asking for favors.
And once he’d gotten a wish from her and saved Red, he could move on and forget her.
Eventually.
Chapter 31
ASHLEY
Ashley went to One Rome first but found the front door locked and no one inside. She drove to the east side of the city next and parked across the street from The Blackbird.
She climbed out of the car and looked up at the building that Dae apparently owned. She’d always been impressed with The Blackbird. The exterior brick was the color of sandy beaches with ornate trim around the windows and doorways. A giant vertical sign hung from the roof and at night, lit up the dark in shades of neon red and yellow.
It was quiet at this time of day, since most of the businesses were closed until at least four in the afternoon. She was certain she’d find The Blackbird closed too, the doors locked and the lights off.
But when she stepped beneath the awning and into the building’s alcove, she found the door unlocked. And when she walked inside she was immediately blown away by the style.
She’d always known what The Blackbird was, of course. It was often featured in the Blackwater Daily, either because of its art deco style or its signature cocktails. But seeing a tiny newspaper picture did not compare to seeing it in person. And she realized as her heels clicked over the nicked and worn hardwood floor that she had never actually stepped inside the place.
And why not?
Probably because she’d always felt like she would never belong in a place like this.
Pot lights shed soft golden light around the main bar area. There was no one in sight, but jazz music played through the speaker system wired into the ceiling. Ashley took a few more steps inside and caught her reflection in the mirror over the bar. She looked flustered and lost.
What was she doing here?
She was out of her element, out of her comfort zone, and she was about to risk everything she had spent the last seven years of her life building.
Because she’d come here to tell Dae that she wanted to be with him. All the rules of Fate and the world and reason be damned.
Except where the hell was he? The jukebox was on so someone must be here.
Ashley strained to listen and heard laughter filtering up a set of stairs that seemed to lead down to a basement. She headed in that direction, but another voice stopped her. A woman’s voice in the adjoining room.
“Dae,” the woman said. “God you smell so good.”
Ashley’s heart froze in her chest.
As soon as she crossed beneath the archway into the lounge, she regretted it. A few table lamps glowed in the windowless room casting just enough light to highlight the two figures on the bench that ran the length of the back wall. A man sat on the bench and a woman on top of him. Her hands clutched at his face. His hands were at her waist.
Ashley’s stomach knotted and her face went hot as blood rushed through her veins.
She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t have come. She shouldn’t have stuck her nose in where it didn’t belong.
Dae was an immortal jinn. A man who was practically a god.
How the hell did she think she’d ever fit in his world?
He’d probably forgotten about her already.
Maybe he’d come to the house to tell her last night was a mistake. To tell her that it was an error in judgment and that he wanted her to use her other wishes so they could both be done with the deal.
Maybe he even would have said it in a kind and gentle way and—
Don’t be an idiot. He’s already making out with another woman. There is nothing kind or gentle about Dae Blackwell. He is dangerous and cunning and heartless.
Ashley backtracked and tried to escape before anyone realized she was there, but she bumped into a table and the lamp rocked on its base.
Dae quickly found her with his heavy eyes.
“Ash!” Dae said, his voice thick and groggy. And then he looked up at the girl on his lap like he just realized she was there.
Ashley scurried away.
“Wait, Ashley!”
She hurried past the bar, past the jukebox.
What had she been thinking?!
She hadn’t.
If she had, she would have realized that Dae was a regret with a capital R.
Dae was not boyfriend material. None of the Blackwells were. How could they be when they had magic at their disposal and hundreds of years of experience behind them?
Ashley had been a fool to think she was different.
She’d been a fool to think that she could have someone like Dae Blackwell.
James was her husband. Her safe place. That was where she belonged.
She pushed through the first set of glass doors but stopped in the annex when Dae popped up in front of her, permeating the air with the smell of his jinn magic. He was breathless, shoulders taut, brow furrowed, eyes dark.
“Wait,” he said again. “Let me explain.”
“There’s no reason for that.” Ashley tried to shove past him, but he stopped her, his hand on her arm, gentle and coaxing.
“Listen to me,” he said.
“No.” He was not just a jinn, but a smooth-talker, a man wise to the wants and needs of women. If she listened to him now there was no telling what she’d do.
“I thought you...” he started.
“You thought what? That I’d be totally fine with you fucking another girl less than twenty-four hours after you fucked me? I should have known! I mean, you’re Dae Blackwell! You probably fuck a different woman every twelve hours.”
He staggered back like she’d physically hit him. “Is that what you believe?”
“YES!”
He ran his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip. “Then that must be the truth.”
Ashley folded her arms over her chest, seething and desperate to be done with this whole damn nightmare. She wanted her old life back. She wanted the comfort and familiarity of it.
James might not have been immortal. He might not have the ability to give her whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it. But at least he was safe.
“I came to make my second wish,” Ashley blurted.
His scowl softened. “I would advise you wait—”
“I, Ashley Laurent, wish to invoke my second wish. My wish is that I want James Laurent to come home to me and stay home.”
Dae’s expression turned to one of cool indifference, but there for a split second, Ashley saw a flicker of something in the flash of his eyes. Regret? Anger? Worry? Ashley couldn’t tell.
Bright red magic swirled around his hands. He snapped his fingers and a chill breeze ruffled her hair.
“Ashley Laurent,” he said with a scowl, “your wish is granted.”
“Is that it?” she said.
Dae nodded once. “That’s it.”
“Great.” She turned to the door and shoved through it.
She was going to go home to her husband and try to get back to the way things were before she ever met Dae Blackwell.
Chapter 32
ASHLEY
Ashley drove home in a rage. How stupid could she get? Now she was one of those girls, the ones who thought there was something special about them. Something special enough to catch the eye of Dae Blackwell.
Breathe. You got what you wanted. James is home!
Except an hour later they were sitting down to have lunch together and all Ashley could think about was Dae.
He was like a virus she couldn’t shake.
“So what do you want to do today?” James asked as he stabbed at his salad.
“What? Oh. I don’t know.”
James’s phone rang b
eside him. Ashley craned her neck to view the screen.
Isla, it read.
Isla was calling him?
Dae had granted her second wish and now here she was at home with her husband beside her with his girlfriend calling him.
How twisted was that?
But if the wish had been granted, then why was Isla still in the middle of all this?
And then the wish—the words she’d used—came back to her.
My wish is that I want James Laurent to come home to me and stay home.
She closed her eyes and grimaced at her own obliviousness.
She’d been so angry, so flustered, embarrassed and impatient, that she’d said all the wrong words.
Dae had once told her it was important to get the wish just right, that the magic or the jinn could easily twist the wish to mean something else entirely.
Ashley had wished for her husband to come home to her and so he had.
But that didn’t mean he would ever be faithful to her. Was this Dae’s doing or her own? Had he purposefully twisted the wish?
You were the dummy who said the wrong words.
“Are you going to get that?” Ashley said.
James’s fork clinked against his bowl. “I’m sorry. I told her not to call.”
He silenced the phone. A second later it pinged with a text message from Isla. Then another and another.
“I should—”
“Go ahead,” Ashley said.
James scrolled through the text messages and frowned.
“Everything all right?” she said.
“Isla wants me to call her.”
“And? Are you going to?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, maybe I should, just to tell her I’m home now and I’m not leaving.”
“I don’t want you to talk to her at all.” Ashley gritted her teeth, the venom in her voice surprising even her. She was not stubborn or assertive. James had always told her it was her biggest fault. But not now. She would not live passively in her own life. “Tell her you are done talking and then block her number.”
James’s expression softened. “Well, I don’t know if I need to go that far.”
“If you want to be home, you need to end things with her. Cut and dry.”
Three Wishes (Blackwell Jinn) Page 14