by S. Young
“Charlie.” She nodded, trying to act casual, which was difficult considering the stares burning into her back.
“What’s up?” he asked, reaching for the joint Mel Rickman handed him. Ari kept her attention on Charlie. Mel was older than everyone else, in his early twenties. The guy gave her the creeps, and not because he was hanging out getting sophomores stoned, but because when he looked at her, it was as if he were imagining her naked. The lascivious sleaze made her uneasy.
She glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention, suddenly feeling foolish standing there in her washed, unripped jeans and plain T-shirt. The grass tickled her feet in her flip-flops and she looked down at the biker boots Mel wore. She fingered the tennis bracelet on her wrist, trying not to flush. Most of the kids Charlie hung out with came from the east, the low income side of Sandford Ridge. It was a medium-sized town in the southeast of Butler County, not small enough for everyone to know everyone’s business, but not big enough for people not to know if you lived on the east side or the west side. “I wondered if you’re still coming to my birthday party on Friday?”
Charlie gave her an inscrutable look, the silence between them stretching into irritating. Ari was very close to throwing the folder in her arms at him.
“I’ll come to your party, babe.” Mel winked at her. “Give me a private showing sometime and I might even buy you a present.”
“Watch it.” Charlie whipped his head around at him, his dark eyes glittering with fury. “Don’t talk to her.”
“Hey—”
“Just shut it.” Charlie pinned him in place with a look of warning that would have made a smarter man pee in his pants. Ari shivered, unsettled, even though her old friend was only defending her. Charlie glanced back at her, the anger still etched in his features. “Of course I’ll be there,” he told her. “I’ll see you Friday.”
Not wanting to leave him, Ari jerked her head in the direction of the parking lot. “Do you want to have lunch with me?”
He shook his head, his features losing expression again. “Go back to school, Ari, I’ll see you later.”
Feeling that familiar ache in her chest, Ari nodded and spun around, hurrying out of the clearing, wishing like hell her car wasn’t in the garage and she could just go home.
She stopped on the hot asphalt, staring blankly at the Ohio plates of the Buick Lacrosse Rachel’s parents had bought her as a graduation gift. I can go home. I am going home. Ari turned and strode toward the gate. It was a half-hour walk; it was nothing. She could do with the exercise.
“Ari!”
Closing her eyes in disbelief, Ari huffed and slowly turned around to see Rachel running across the lot toward her. “Rache.”
“Where are you going?”
“For a walk.”
“Were you going home?”
“I thought about it.”
Rachel shook her head, her eyes narrowing. “He bummed you out again.”
“It’s not his fault.”
“Stop making excuses for him. And you’re not going home.” Rachel tugged on her arm, dragging her back toward the school.
“You’re not the boss of me,” Ari grunted, tripping on her flip-flops.
“I am not letting Charlie ruin graduation for you. You think I don’t know why you’ve been so sullen and quiet every time we mention college and graduation? It’s Charlie! It’s always Charlie. You’re going to have to leave him to swim in his self-destructive soup and, frankly, I think it’s a good thing. He is such a loser. You are so much better than that.”
“Hey!” Ari yanked her arm away and shot her best friend a look so livid it was amazing waves of burning smoke didn’t start weeping from Rachel’s body. “You don’t get to call him that. He’s been through hell and I’m sorry if he isn’t perfect, but he’s my friend, and I don’t abandon my friends.”
Holding her hands up in a surrender gesture, Rachel nodded, her eyes wide. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called him that.”
Ari shook her head, sighing heavily. “Whatever. Let’s just get you back to the cafeteria before A.J. eats whatever you left on your tray.”
Her eyes almost popped out of her head. “My Snickers!”
Ari gave a bark of annoyed laughter, watching Rachel lope up the concrete stairs two at a time. Watching her friend, who knew herself inside out, Ari wished she was more like Rachel… or that she had more time, at least; time to discover who she was supposed to be before college.
For once, Ari was glad to step into the airy house she called home, waving behind her to Rachel, who drove her back and forth to school while her car was in the garage. She shut the door, dropped her bag and pulled off her light summer jacket. She hung it up on the coat peg on the wall, using the label to loop it securely. When it slid up and off, falling to the ground, Ari groaned and bent down to pick it up. She secured it again and strolled toward the kitchen, only to hear the pinging of the metal buttons hitting the wooden floor. Exhaling heavily, she spun back on her heel and picked it back up, jamming the jacket down on the peg.
Her poltergeist was such a pain in the ass.
“I’m not in the mood, Ms. Maggie!” she called out, scanning the hall.
Two years ago, after her 16th birthday actually, a poltergeist took up residence in her house. When she tried to tell her dad about furniture moving, an invisible person using her laptop, books taken down from the shelf and left around and open, he’d told her to stop being childish. For the last four or five years he’d been gone a lot, traveling the country and wining and dining doctors and hospital execs as a pharmaceutical sales rep. Her dad was good at his job and she never wanted for anything — except maybe for more time with him. Anyway, her theory about the poltergeist didn’t really hit home until they got into an argument one day a year and a half ago. He’d raised his voice at her because she made the mistake of whining about him being gone so much and a book flew off a shelf and cracked him across the head. He hadn’t imagined it and was now sufficiently freaked out by their house. Ari had stopped whining at her dad in the hopes the situation would make him want to be home more and had gotten used to the company of the poltergeist. She was pretty sure the poltergeist was a woman because she seemed to take offence to sexist, anti-feminist jokes. Sure, she was mischievous, like with the whole jacket thing, but once Ari told her to stop doing something, she would. Ari had named her Ms. Maggie after the dog her dad had bought when she was eight and then promptly gotten rid of when he realized how much work it involved for him.
Ari breathed a sigh of relief when the jacket stayed in place. “Thanks, Ms. Maggie. I appreciate it. It’s been a rough day.” She wandered out of the cold hallway into the even colder, empty kitchen. Their house seemed to lack the cozy warmth of her friends’ houses. She didn’t know if that was to do with the minimalist furniture or the lack of any actual family living in it. There could have been a family. But Ari had ruined that for her dad.
All of her life, Ari had lived knowing that her mother, some mysterious woman named Sala, had broken her father’s heart after a passionate and brief affair. Then she returned to him nine months after the fact with a baby she said was his. She’d left Ari with him and disappeared, never to be seen again. Her father had done the best he could, Ari knew that. And she knew he loved her more than anything. He had tried. He’d read to her every night before bed. He’d taught her to swim, to play baseball, to throw a punch without breaking her thumb. But as she’d gotten older, they had grown apart. Over the years, there had only been a few girlfriends, for which Ari was grateful. Unlike other kids with no moms, Ari hadn’t wanted one. To her, a mom was this creature who had stolen her daddy’s heart and ripped it out, leaving them both in the cold, lost and alone. So when Derek had gotten serious with this one woman when Ari was ten, she’d panicked. If her father married this woman, she’d be Ari’s mom. What if she left too? She’d just break their hearts as well. And to be honest, Ari didn’t want to share her dad with anyo
ne. The lie she’d told that broke up the relationship still ate at her conscience eight years later. In a moment of pure childish stupidity, with no real clue to the consequences of her actions, Ari had lied and told her dad that his girlfriend (Michelle) had slapped her during an argument. Derek was furious. He believed his daughter over his four-month-old relationship and had swiftly ended things. There had been no one serious since. Ari blanched every time she thought about it. Her dad would probably never forgive her if he knew the truth. Poor Michelle.
Ari’s cell rang in the pocket of her jeans and she jumped, startled. Pulling her phone out, she smiled at the caller ID and pressed the answer call button. “Dad.”
“Hey, sweetheart,” his warm, deep voice reminded her of Christmas Day on the couch watching Home Alone and eating chocolates for breakfast. “How’s things?”
“Okay. Graduation in a couple of days,” she reminded him.
“I know, sweetheart,” he replied wearily. “I’ve asked Rachel’s mom to take care of you and to take lots of pictures of you in your cap and gown. I’m so sorry I can’t be there. You know I would if I could, but I can’t miss this meeting. It could be my biggest sale this year.”
She nodded, feeling a little numb to the distance between them now. “I know. Don’t worry about it, Dad. It’s not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal. That’s why I want you to take the emergency credit card and buy whatever you need for your birthday party, okay?”
“Thanks, that’s great.”
“I’ve also got a fantastic birthday present for you and I’ll be home in three weeks. I can’t wait to see your face when you open it.”
She smiled. Admittedly, her dad always bought her the most thoughtful presents. “I hope you didn’t do anything extravagant.”
Derek laughed. “It’s your 18th, of course I did. I love you, kid.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
Their conversation was short and sweet, like always, and Ari spent the rest of the evening cooking pasta, watching cartoons, worrying about Charlie, and stalking his social media accounts to see if there was any recent activity. There never was. She talked to Rache and Staci for a while and then slid back from her desk, falling, emotionally exhausted, onto her bed.
“Ms. Maggie… can you hit the lights?” Two seconds later, the click of the switch echoed around the room and the bedroom plunged into darkness. “Thanks, you’re a doll.”
Two minutes later, a flash of light across her closed lids broke her fall into sleep and she groaned, prying her eyes open to see her phone screen glowing as it hovered in the air across the room.
“Ms. Maggie,” Ari groaned, flopping back against her pillows. “Can you Tweet in the morning? Please…”
The phone moved slowly through the air and landed gently on her bedside table.
“Thank you,” she breathed. “Today was already depressing enough without the reminder that my poltergeist has more followers on social media than I do.”
Chapter 2
A fiery lash for her crime
The black gate, with its swirling knots and spiked-top, swung open seconds after he spoke into the security box. Jai Bitar took a deep breath, pressed his foot to the gas, and drove leisurely down the smooth driveway. The gates swung shut behind him. Jai wished he was in his condo in Hollywood instead of where he was. In fact, he’d rather be anywhere than back home in the Palisades, home to his family, to his father, to his boss. When his dad had a job for him, he usually asked him into their office Downtown. That his father wanted to discuss this new job here… Jai sucked in a breath. Something big was going down. He parked the car at the bottom of the wide steps that led up to his parents’ massive home. It was a burnished clay color, more Spanish estate than the Moroccan architecture Jai favored, but his stepmother loved the design, so who was he to argue.
Finally. Where have you been? I called you three hours ago.
Used to his father contacting him telepathically without so much as a warning, Jai didn’t even flinch as he got out of the car.
I was in the middle of something. I got here as fast as I could.
Christ, the old man couldn’t even wait two minutes for him to climb those damn stairs to berate him.
If I call you with an emergency, you drop what you’re doing and get your ass here. End of story. Why is the concept lost on you when your brothers understand it perfectly?
Jai glared up at the house, refusing to answer. His dad could talk to him when he got in the house. Correction. Rail at him unfairly. As usual. To stem off a tirade about how long it had taken him to climb the stairs, Jai envisioned the sterile entrance hall of his parents’ home with its high ceiling and black-and-white checkered flooring. There was a vile abstract painting of his stepmother, Nicki, hanging on the main wall. As soon as he had it locked in mind, Jai relaxed, allowing the flutter of wind to brush against his skin. The blur of color and slightly dizzying sensation of using the peripatos lasted merely a second, and Jai stood before the ugly abstract.
“Where have you been?” a snide voice asked from behind him.
Keeping his expression neutral, Jai turned to face his eldest half-brother, David. His black eyes bore into Jai’s with their usual disdain and not for the first time Jai noted they looked nothing alike. They could be strangers for all anyone knew. The Bitar’s blood was mixed. Two hundred years ago, their Moroccan tribe departed for London to escape a blood feud with another Ginnaye tribe. From there, they’d moved to the East Coast of America until migrating to the West. In that time they’d intermarried with other immigrant Ginnaye who had emigrated to Europe centuries before. Nicki was Celtic Ginnaye. His father, Luca, had met her on assignment in Ireland. Thus, the Bitar boys had a mixture of Irish and Moroccan heritage in their features. Jai was different. His features were more refined, his skin olive-toned, his eyes green. He wondered often where his own mother had hailed from to give him such unusual coloring.
Jai shrugged at his half-brother. “At my condo. Some of us live in our own apartments like big boys in big boy pants.”
David narrowed his eyes. “Hilarious. But then I guess I’d need a sense of humor too if I were the only son Luca Bitar can’t stand to live with.”
They both knew the truth of that statement, but Jai refused to give David the satisfaction of reacting. Instead, he shrugged and strode toward him. “You still using the pool house to get laid behind Nicki and Luca’s back? How is that working out for you, big bro? Bet it impresses the ladies; a thirty-year-old who lives in his parents’ pool house.”
“At least I get laid.”
“As do I.”
“Yeah, but I use my natural charm. I don’t have your mommy’s evil succubus side to lure them in, asshole.”
Despite the comment igniting Jai’s blood with rage, he was a master of deception. He threw David an insouciant look as they entered his father’s office. “I didn’t inherit that part of her genetics, David. I get laid because fortunately you and I look nothing alike.”
“Morning to you too,” Luca Bitar’s voice cut right through him.
Jai stopped before his father’s desk, his hands behind his back at the ready, his expression serious. He and his father may not get along, but Jai was one of his father’s best guardians. Luca Bitar knew that. Even if he didn’t want to admit it. “Good morning, sir.”
Luca nodded stiffly, his gaze flicking to David. “Where’s your mother?”
David slouched against his father’s liquor cabinet, his arms crossed over his chest as he eyed Jai with a twisted smile. “You know she doesn’t like to be here when the spawn is around.”
Jai didn’t even so much as twitch. In fact, he enjoyed the way Luca’s eyes narrowed on David in disappointment. It killed him that his eldest acted like a five-year-old when Jai, his offspring with one of the jinn who had seduced him against his will, was the most professional and mature of his four sons. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud. Just as much as his stepmother, Nicki, liked to take
Jai’s unfortunate parentage out on him, so did Luca. Duty bound him to Jai; it was the reason Luca raised his son with all the same education and material comforts provided to his other sons. But raising Jai with affection and love? No. That had been out of the question. It had made Jai the angriest son-of-a-bitch for the longest time. A fury he’d never shown, even when his elder brothers beat him to a bloody pulp while the youngest watched. Even under the disdain of their entire Ginnaye tribe, who looked at him like some filthy half-breed. Rather than acting out, Jai had done the opposite just to piss everyone off. He’d worked and trained harder than all the rest, gaining the grudging respect from some of the elder Ginnaye, especially those from other tribes around the world. Now, at only twenty-two years old, he was one of the most respected security operatives at Bitar Security in L.A. His father was the son of the last tribe leader out in California. For centuries their family had lived human lives, protecting importants for money. Back in the 40s, Jai’s grandfather moved his tribe to California and set up Bitar Security when Hollywood was at its height. As well as acting as guardians to importants and jinn who hired them, the Bitar Ginnaye were paid big bucks to protect starlets and rich folks. Still were. Jai’s last job had been guarding a pop princess with a flagging career from a stalker. Luca Bitar preferred jobs to be wrapped up quick, so he’d given Jai permission to go directly after the stalker. Using a little jinn enchantment, Jai had ripped the darkness from the creep; darkness that compelled him to obsess over women he believed owed him something. It left the guy drooling in a hospital somewhere, but it was the best Jai could do without killing him. This way, no one innocent got hurt. Luca was pleased with his son’s work. Not that he said so, but Jai knew it to be true because his father hadn’t criticized him in a week.