One Wish Away: Djinn Empire Complete Series

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One Wish Away: Djinn Empire Complete Series Page 17

by Ingrid Seymour


  We walked down the sidewalk, past the pack of smoking hoodlums. She was struggling with the right thing to say when one of the guys broke from the group and stepped in front of me. He was good looking and seemed pleasant enough until he opened his mouth.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” he drawled. “Marielle, right? I’ve heard so much about you. Let me buy you a drink?” He waggled a studded tongue and winked.

  I stepped back, shocked by his crudeness.

  “Buzz off,” Abby said, pulling me to one side and guiding me away.

  “What’s his problem?” I asked under my breath, looking at the guy over my shoulder. He waggled his tongue again and gave me a practiced, crooked smile. I glanced at Abby, puzzled. She looked mortified as if she’d been the cause of it all.

  “What is it, Abby?”

  “I was gonna tell you later. Didn’t want to hit you with it first thing. But—”

  “Well, well, if it isn’t Loose-elle Iris,” somebody said.

  I looked up and found Dana White and Claudia, eying me with disdain. Dana wore a black, shiny skirt that couldn’t be more than six inches long, and a white tank top that stretched over grapefruit-sized breasts and barely covered the important parts. Her painted face looked as if she’d used an entire compact to cover her acne-marked cheeks. She struck a pose, hooking a finger into the studded belt that hung loosely around her hips.

  “Don’t worry about them,” Abby said.

  “Right.” I looked straight ahead and took a step toward the door.

  Dana snickered and blocked the way. “And to think she plays hard to get. Hard to not, it’s more like it.” She laughed derisively.

  What was the deal with everyone tonight?

  “Look who’s gone sour,” Abby retorted, forgetting her own advice to ignore them.

  “Shush, little sidekick. I ain’t talking to you.” Dana took three steps forward and towered over Abby’s five-one frame, glowering like an ostrich, and practically rubbing her big boobs on Abby’s face.

  “Abby, they’re not worth it. C’mon.” I said.

  “You two are not worth it. That’s why y’all got used up and dumped,” the blonde said.

  What?! My mind spun. I knew I’d gotten used and dumped, but Abby?

  “You’ve got some nerve, Dana, seeing that Jeremy did the same to you,” Abby said, blinking rapidly as if fighting tears. “He’s already looking for your replacement.”

  Dana scoffed but looked at Claudia questioningly. Claudia squirmed and stopped grinning.

  “Uh-oh,” Abby said, voice gaining strength, rapid blinking under control. “Aw, she doesn’t even know. That’s hilarious.” Indeed, Abby seemed to think it really was hilarious, because she started laughing so hard that the mafia trainees immediately noticed the tiff.

  “Shut up!” Dana’s wild eyes blazed. She looked like she wanted blood, the blood of pint-sized Abby Kent.

  At the verge of all hell breaking lose, everyone’s attention suddenly turned to the roaring engine of a silver Mustang. After parking the car, a dark guy dressed in ripped jeans and a tight-fitting navy blue t-shirt stepped out. Golden bracelets clung to his wrists, making the veins in the back of his hands look like pulsing wires. He walked, examining each gawking face, meeting every curious gaze.

  I couldn’t help but stare like the rest, even though I knew him well. He exuded confidence, walked the way Michelangelo’s David would walk if he could. His dark hair shone blue-black under the neon sign. Everyone stared.

  Like in a movie, all went quiet. Faris approached in slow motion, mouth twisted in a self-satisfied grin, as if he was God’s gift to all gawking bystanders. He trained his gaze on Dana White. The blonde composed her distorted face, unsavory news about Jeremy forgotten, ideas about being the center of the universe probably floating inside her otherwise empty head.

  I couldn’t help but hate Faris for singling out the harpy.

  “Good evening, ladies,” he said, flashing his disarming smile at Dana and Claudia, acknowledging both, but focusing mainly on the blonde. “Excuse me.” He cut his eyes toward the door to indicate he wanted to get by.

  Dana seemed to go all wiggly. She opened her mouth to say something but became a Pac-Man figure, mechanically opening and closing her big, painted trap, yet nothing came out. Her eyes grew wide, panicked. She didn’t seem to understand why the words weren’t flowing.

  Faris cocked an eyebrow and conjured a “why am I not surprised you’re an airhead?” expression. He searched each face. Claudia stood straighter and Abby cleared her throat—both practically screaming, “pick me, pick me!” His eyes connected with mine, and I became the center of the universe, and—if there were others—the center of those, too.

  He was there for me. The realization numbed me.

  “Are you ladies the bouncers?” he asked, looking all smoking hot, and terribly amused. “Can I go in?”

  “Of course,” Abby said, as I tried to swim out of his dark gaze. Dana and Claudia sneered in disappointment and reluctantly moved aside.

  “We might have to frisk you first, though,” Abby joked.

  Faris looked confused at that and simply smiled.

  “I’m Abby. This is Marielle,” she informed him, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. She gave Dana a satisfied smirk. “Never seen you ‘round here. New blood is always welcome.” She eyed him, but her face suggested she might as well be tasting him. I elbowed her.

  “Thank you, Abby. My name is Faris.” He winked at me. I rolled my eyes. He was having way too much fun. He held the door and, like a perfect gentleman, inclined his head so we’d enter ahead of him.

  As we walked in, Abby looked at me and mouthed, “Oh, my God.”

  “Meeting somebody?” As she asked, Abby had the look of someone crossing all their fingers and toes, begging he was here alone.

  “No,” Faris said simply.

  Her face lit up. “Then you should join us!”

  “Today must be my lucky day.” He inclined his head to one side and placed his undivided attention on me.

  Abby seemed to deflate for a second, then just shrugged. “I had a table but had to give it up because someone was late,” she gave me a pointed look. “We’ll probably have to wait for one to clear. Let me check.” She walked up to the hostess.

  The din of animated conversation filled the place. The lights were dim, creating a cozy, relaxed feel. The smell of grilled meat wafted through the air.

  “Some dramatic entrance out there,” I said.

  “I thought you’d like it. I was tempted to bring the Bugatti, but . . .”

  “Even that Mustang’s a stretch around here. Did you have something to do with Dana’s . . . ?” I fake-zipped my lips.

  He wiggled his eyebrows. I laughed in spite of the uneasy feeling in my gut. I needed to talk to Abby, needed to find out what she’d been about to tell me before Dana interrupted us.

  “Any sign of Zet?” I asked.

  “No. And you? Notice anything weird?”

  Yep, but I was sure it had nothing to do with Zet. Another jerk was to blame.

  A group of girls sitting at a nearby booth waved at me. I waved back, feeling as if the entire high school was here. To prove the point, Maven swaggered by and eyed me from under surprisingly unkempt hair.

  “Maven,” I said, heart racing as I imagined him morphing into a panther.

  He gave me an annoyed look as if he’d just stepped on something disgusting. His clothes were different, skater-boyish but in an “I don’t really own a skateboard” kind of way. The edges of a tattoo peeked from under the sleeve of a Linkin Park t-shirt and a silver loop pierced one of his ears.

  “It’s Samuel, we met, remember?” he said.

  “Yes, sorry. Is Maven here?”

  “He’ll be here later,” he responded, then moved on without another word.

  “Sheesh,” I said, feeling rather snubbed. “Guess I should’ve known.”

  I turned my attention to Abby, impatient to talk
to her. She was chatting up the hostess, trying to get us a table. “Abby,” I hissed. When she looked back, I jerked my head to one side.

  “I need to talk to Abby,” I told Faris. “Hang back a little, will you?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  I bit back a mean response and waited for my friend.

  “Forty-minute wait,” Abby said, showing us a twinkling buzzer.

  “I’m in no hurry,” Faris said.

  I took Abby by the elbow, led her toward the bar and spoke in her ear. “We need to talk.”

  “What about Faris? Where are your manners, Elle?” She tsked as I pulled her aside.

  “Never mind him.” We looked back at Faris who followed a few steps behind, smiling at all the sighing women in his wake.

  “He’s hot, isn’t he?” Abby said, dreamily.

  “Forget him!” I snapped. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on? What happened with Kurt? Are you okay?”

  “I told you already, Kurt and I broke up. Plus I don’t want to talk about that right now. I do have to tell you about what Jeremy’s been up to, though. I’m sorry. I should’ve called you, but I didn’t want to add to your problems. Such a mistake. Man, it’s like we’re still in high school or something.” She looked disgusted.

  We found a small opening at the bar and sidled into it. Faris got busy ordering drinks, paying us no mind. Abby pulled on my arm to whisper in my ear.

  “That asshole’s been telling everyone you’re a horny slut, told all the idiots who’d listen that you can’t get enough of it.”

  My face burned with fury. The bastard!

  Abby rushed the words out as if a swift attack would make things easier to bear. But heck, a Brazilian wax is a Brazilian wax, no matter how fast or slow the dispensation. “The people that matter know it’s bullshit, Elle. Don’t let it get to you. He’s just pissed ‘cause you wouldn’t put out.” She stopped at the expression on my face. “Right?” she asked, looking up like a hopeful puppy.

  Before Jeremy, I had been a virgin and Abby knew that. I sighed. “I had sex with him, Abby,” I blurted out in spite of the shame it caused me to admit I’d fallen for Jeremy’s lies. “He broke up with me right after we . . . Anyway, he said he’d gotten everything he’d been looking for.” The awful truth sounded too loud even in whispers.

  Abby’s mouth fell open, then a bang startled us. We looked back. Faris’s clenched fist was on the bar’s polished surface. He stood rigidly, staring straight ahead at the shelves of glasses and bottles, pulsing with fury like a rocket ready for takeoff. He couldn’t have been close enough to have overheard our whispers in that crowded place, but he sure looked like he’d caught every bit of it.

  Crap! I was such an idiot. How could I forget who I was dealing with?

  Abby scowled and turned away from Faris, assuming his outburst had nothing to do with our conversation. “That lowlife.” She took my hand and pressed it between hers. The comforting gesture was tentative as if she expected me to draw back. The urge was there, and I wanted to hide behind my mask of coolness, but I managed not to.

  “I’m glad you told me. I can only imagine how hard that was for you. I’d like to kill the son of a bitch!” She bared her teeth, looking like she meant it.

  I smiled. She was such a faithful friend—even when I didn’t nurture our connection as well as I should.

  After a moment, Abby turned to Faris. “Sorry. We didn’t mean to be rude. We were just catching up on girl stuff.”

  “I understand,” he said. The lines around his dark eyes looked tight.

  We sipped our drinks as we waited for the buzzer to go off. Women around the bar stole glances toward Faris but he didn’t seem to notice anything except his drink. I kept my attention on the Coke he’d ordered for me, looking up only to check on Faris, whose eyes smoldered with rage.

  “I told you this would be a bad idea,” I said when Abby excused herself to the ladies’ room. I tried to sound smug but failed. His jaw twitched, but he said nothing. Well, his lips didn’t, but his eyes . . . well, they told me a lot.

  “You’re scaring me,” I said. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

  What he’d told me the night before echoed in my ears. “But if he has ever hurt you, if I find out that he hurt you . . . I’d figure out a way to make him pay.”

  “I can’t promise you that,” he said.

  As much as I hated Jeremy, it would be wrong to let anything bad happen to him. I’d done what I’d done willingly. There was no one else to blame.

  “Listen, Faris—”

  “No,” he said, the word like a hammer blow. “In this, you will not prevail!”

  I hugged myself and winced at his severity.

  He gripped his drink with force. “That leech doesn’t deserve your . . . benevolence. He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with what he did.” The golden bracelets around his wrists seemed ready to snap. The veins on the back of his hands bulged and writhed.

  “It’s not benevolence. I allowed it to happen. I did it . . . willingly.” My voice broke on the last word.

  Faris seized my hand, leaned in and held my gaze—his eyes going from furious to tender in a snap. “You are not to blame for his vileness. A real man doesn’t treat a lady like that.”

  “Please, don’t do anything stupid,” I pleaded. “I just want to leave this behind. Please.”

  His eyebrows drew together and his jaw twitched. He seemed to be struggling with a desire to both tear something apart and do what I was asking. “Okay. But it won’t be easy.”

  “Thank you.”

  Faris leaned in closer. My stomach fluttered.

  “Only because—” Before he could finish what he was about to say, he lost his balance, stumbled forward, and bumped into me.

  “Don’t mind if I cut in, love birds,” someone said.

  My stomach went from buoyant to cramped. I didn’t have to look to see who had forced himself into the crowded bar. I intertwined my fingers with Faris’s and gave him a pleading, meaningful look. He took a deep breath and gave a slight nod, before turning around to face the scumbag.

  Jeremy looked down at Faris. He was a good three inches taller and twice as thick. He grinned, but it looked more like a dog baring his teeth.

  “You don’t waste time, do you?” Jeremy said, looking at me. His voice rose above the general chatter. People went quiet. “Go easy on the guy, will ya? He looks a little malnourished. Slut.” The last word was spoken for only a few to hear. He laughed and looked pleased with himself. “I’ll get a Budweiser,” he told the bartender.

  Faris freed his hand in spite of my death grip. “You should apologize to the lady.” He enunciated each word. No one in the general vicinity could have any doubt about his intent.

  “Lady? Ha!” Jeremy scoffed, looming over Faris with a threatening air.

  Faris couldn’t have looked less intimidated if a kitten had bared its claws. I found myself wishing I hadn’t asked him not to do anything stupid. If anything was stupid, it was my request. Faris’s unaffected attitude and everyone’s whispers had Jeremy looking as if he’d eaten a bad lemon.

  “Looking to get beat up, are we?” Jeremy jabbed Faris’s chest with one finger. A whimper escaped his throat as he stuffed his hand in his front pocket, face contorted in pain.

  “What’s the matter? Flimsy fingers?” Faris asked. “I attend the gymnasium quite regularly.” He flexed firm pectoral muscles under his tight t-shirt. The girl sitting to Jeremy’s left laughed.

  “Can I see your I.D.?” asked the bartender, setting a foaming beer on the counter.

  Jeremy took out his wallet and handed his I.D.

  “You still owe the lady an apology,” Faris insisted.

  “Screw you, asshole,” Jeremy said.

  “Sorry, we don’t serve minors.” The bartender returned Jeremy’s I.D., looking peeved.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Jeremy snatched his license. I knew him to have a very good fake
I.D. that he used all the time.

  Faris smirked. “Do you mind if I take it?” he handed the bartender his identification, faker than fake, I was sure. The bartender looked pacified when Faris took the beer and paid for it, leaving a generous tip. He walked away to serve other customers, but not before giving Jeremy a nasty look and an incredulous head shake.

  “Forget it,” Jeremy walked away with murder in his eyes but stripped of his bravado.

  God, he was such a coward.

  ***

  “Faris, you’re officially awesome. For reals. Can’t believe I missed it,” Abby said after hearing the story. She grinned from ear to ear and waved a French fry in the air like a banner. We were sitting at a booth, trying to enjoy our dinner.

  Faris smiled and looked momentarily at Abby, then turned his attention back to Jeremy, who sat across the room with Deborah Landry, one of our ex-classmates. The girl smiled nervously at him from under cropped bangs.

  “I still can’t believe Deborah would go out with him,” I said for the second time. Dread for the girl flared inside of me. This couldn’t be good if my own sickening past with Jeremy was any indication.

  Abby looked over her shoulder. “The bastard. He just wants to . . . ” She didn’t finish her sentence, just shaking her head, looking as disgusted as I felt.

  Jeremy stole a bite from Deborah’s plate and popped it in his mouth. He locked eyes with me as he chewed. Drinking Deborah’s tea in one gulp, he set the cup down and leaned into her, acting as if he’d forgotten all about the rest of the world. All for show.

  Under the table, Deborah smoothed her khaki, ankle length skirt. Between his index and middle fingers, Jeremy took a strand of her hair and traced its impossible length all the way down to her elbow. There, he stopped and tickled her forearm with the sandy-blond, bushy ends. Deborah’s face reddened, but a timid smile revealed her enormous pleasure.

  I felt like vomiting as the image of a hyena stalking a helpless infant popped in my mind. I’d known he was vile, but this was just . . . Deborah Landry was the sweetest, most naïve girl I’d ever met. He was not just a pig. He was an evil monster, a sick predator hungry for unblemished victims. Someone had to stop him.

 

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