by Pat Esden
“Oh,” I said, dumbfounded. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“I just figured it out on the way here. You know, a little online search—and voilà, there it was.”
The man looked from one of us to the other, but he didn’t say a word. He’d probably heard tons of people argue over prom dresses and wedding colors. The important thing was, he relented that if we were willing to purchase used tuxes and weren’t fussy, he could come up with something for first thing tomorrow morning, raspberry-pink ties and all.
Another thought started to bubble in my head and, as we left the store, I turned to Selena. “Maybe posing as waitstaff isn’t such a good idea. I mean, it seems like they’d all know each other. We’d stand out as strangers. If we’re going to match the wedding colors, then why not go as photographers, violinists. . . any kind of profession who might get dressed up like that?”
Selena beamed. “You’re right. We could be makeup artists or DJs.”
“Maybe.” I stooped to pick a penny up from the sidewalk and shoved it in my pocket. We needed all the luck we could get. “There’s something else, too. If we want to make sure they let us go tomorrow, we need to come up with an even more foolproof way to keep Newt from recognizing us.”
“I’m glad you asked. I kind of already made plans for that.” She gave me a sly grin, then strode ahead.
I gulped. I knew that tone of voice and it spelled trouble with a capital T. “Whatever you’re thinking, Selena, just forget it. It’s a bad idea.”
She winged back and snagged my hand, hauling me down the sidewalk. “C’mon. You’re going to love it.”
“Love what?” I pulled against her grip, though there was a part of me that was totally curious.
She dragged me around a corner, past a couple of shops and an ice-cream parlor. . . . Just when I thought she’d never stop, she came to a screeching halt and stared longingly through a store window at a display of shoes. I didn’t know Bar Harbor well, but I recognized where we were—only a few streets down from Beach Rose House, the permanent care facility where Chase’s mother was confined. Before we’d gone into the realm, Chase and I had managed to finagle our way into Beach Rose House to see her. He’d been too on edge to talk with her, but I had. And I’d promised to visit her again.
I hugged myself. I should do it today, while I was in town. But not just because of that promise. Chase’s mother was also the only person who might be able to tell me if what I’d experienced on the clifftop was a product of my exhaustion or if Chase had really come to me. After all, Malphic had supposedly visited her in her sleep.
“So what do you think?” Selena’s voice jolted me from my thoughts.
I frowned at her. “What did you say?”
“Do you think they’re perfect?”
“Yeah, totally,” I said, realizing too late that she was talking about a pair of ridiculously expensive pink spikes on the other side of the window glass. The same pink as the bow ties.
“Fantastic. Once we’re done, we’ll come back and buy us each a pair. After all, King’s Pine is very exclusive. Even as professionals, we need to look top-shelf.”
Smiling, she hooked my arm and we were off again, this time down an alley between two buildings and into an entryway. Straight ahead, a street-art-style profile of a woman with swirling hair was painted across a metal door.
I ventured a guess. “A salon?”
“Only the best one ever—hair, nails, piercings, even tattoos. We have eleven o’clock appointments.” She grinned and bounced on her tiptoes, excitement leaking out every pore. “Newt’s never going to recognize us.”
Fear twisted in my stomach. “How much of a makeover are you talking?”
“Don’t worry, it won’t take that long.”
I glanced at the door again, weighing the idea. Time was only part of my concern. Her parents would blame me if she did anything too crazy. But changing up our hair was a great idea. Plus, if I went along with this, then most likely she wouldn’t object to stopping at Beach Rose House later.
Her expression turned serious. “Speaking of Newt, thanks for not mentioning the love curse to anyone.”
I shrugged. “I promised I wouldn’t, right?”
“Yeah, but I really appreciate it.” Her voice lowered. “I couldn’t sleep last night. I was so pissed at Newt. You know, one time he said this actress was ugly because she had too many freckles. I spent the next week bleaching every spot off my skin. When he told me red was his favorite color, I threw out my favorite pink hoodies and all my pink nail polish, and even a dress that I absolutely loved. Last night, I started thinking about everything I’d given up or changed for him. Can you imagine being taken in like that?”
“Actually, I can. It’s not your fault either. The Sons of Ophiuchus probably watched you for years and groomed him to know exactly what to do.” I cringed. “Sorry. That sounds pretty creepy.”
“It is. But what scares me the most is that I didn’t even begin to catch on.”
A horrifying thought burrowed into my brain. It was unlikely that Newt and Myles were the only guys involved with the Sons. Guys from supposedly good families. I swallowed hard. Smart, good-looking guys like Newt—and like Taj. Was it possible that he was involved with them, too?
“Screw that,” Selena said. “I’m not going to let Newt get under my skin anymore.” She flung the door open and I followed her inside.
My eyes widened. Industrial lighting hung down from iron beams way above our heads, brightening and showcasing a line of ultra-modern steel chairs. But there was nothing else in the room. Not even a reception desk. No signs of life either, except for the faint smell of hair products and an eerie throb of tribal drums creeping out from two narrow doorways.
“I’ll be right back,” Selena said, vanishing through one of the doorways.
I tucked my hands in my pockets, shivering as the pulse of the drums sent my mind reeling back to the djinn realm and the moments just before I lost my temper in a fit of jealousy and broke the hummingbird egg, causing the rescue mission to go horribly wrong.
Lotli, Chase, and I had been in the djinn arena for hours, watching performers do their acts while we waited for Lotli’s turn. The air was thick with smoke, the audience behind us drunk and rowdy. Lotli and Chase kept whispering about something. I felt left out, angry, and jealous. I told myself he was comforting her. That it was understandable. She was about to play her flute in front of a crowd of half-crazed genies, not to mention Malphic and his cronies.
Lotli had shifted toward me. “It’s almost our turn,” she said, her voice trembling.
I gave her a hug. “Don’t worry. They’ll love you,” I said, but something about what she’d said niggled at my mind, or maybe it was how she’d said those words. I shook my head and shrugged off the uncomfortable feeling. No more pettiness. It will all be over soon.
That’s when the eerie heartbeat of tribal drums had begun. Chase closed his eyes and rocked in time with the music, every muscle in his body joining in. Lotli blew out loud breaths and stared straight ahead, her chin rising as she focused into the distance.
My pulse quickened with the music’s beat gathering energy, and that niggling feeling returned, a fierce uncomfortable twinge in my chest, building ever stronger. What was it that Lotli had said? It seemed important that I remember.
Goose bumps chilled me as Lotli rose to her feet. This was it. She was next. The platform in front of us flared to life, stark and white, surrounded by low blue flames. Wrapped tight in a cocoon of veils, Lotli flowed forward until she stood at its center. Only then did I realize that Chase was already there, crouched, his head bowed, so he was nearly invisible under the fire’s dancing light.
Horror-struck, I gripped the edge of the bench. Our turn, that’s what she’d said, her tongue wrapping around the word our, enunciating it with a certain pleasure, different from her normal we and us bullshit.
He lifted his scarf-covered face, a battle-ready warrior frozen motionless. Th
ankfully, black smudge still shadowed his eyes, hiding his identity. Still, he looked so fierce, especially with the tattoo-like marks that had been applied to his arms and body—
The memory of those horrible moments in the realm abruptly fled as Selena returned with a Hispanic guy in tow. His raven-dark hair was pulled back in a glossy ponytail, and his black jeans were as tight as his bicep-hugging T-shirt.
“This is Santiago,” she introduced him to me. “He’s going to do your hair.”
“Welcome.” He gestured for me to follow him back inside.
I glanced toward Selena. She was already disappearing through the other doorway. I took a deep breath. This was going to be interesting.
As it turned out, Santiago was a traditional stylist and impressively fast. I surrendered to his expertise, sipping a pistachio latte while he deftly put my hair in foil wraps. It was surprisingly pleasant. Except having a man so close made me think of Chase, the warmth of his body, his breath against my hair, strong hands on my shoulders. Chase. Yesterday it really had felt like he was with me.
Finally, my hair was washed, styled, and glistening with chestnut streaks. Nothing outrageous, just a subtle change like I’d asked for. I was about to go hunt for Selena, when she bounced into the room, her hairstylist sailing along behind her.
My mouth hung open. Selena’s long and preppy-perfect blond hair was gone, replaced by a short pixie cut with razored sides. If I hadn’t known she was here, I might not have recognized her at first glance.
She wiggled her fingers through her hair. “I’ve wanted to try this forever.”
I couldn’t form words. I was a hundred percent certain Newt would have hated her new look. Still, the joy in Selena’s voice and on her face told me this wasn’t about him or even just about looking different for the mission. Every gesture of her hands, the tilt of her head, everything screamed that I was seeing the real Selena emerge for the first time. Someone stronger, more confident, and independent.
I clapped my hands, applauding her and the stylist. “It’s amazing. Seriously, I love it.”
“It feels so good.” Selena grinned.
Selena’s upbeat mood was so infectious that we were both still super energized when we left the salon. I resisted the urge to mention that her father was going to kill her—and me. I was certain I’d somehow get blamed for the new look, despite the excuse of the boathouse mission.
As we went out into the alleyway, she rested her hand on my shoulder and softly said, “By the way, I’ve decided I’m not just going to help rescue Lotli. I’m going on the mission to the realm as well.”
I felt my face pale and I stopped in my tracks. Going to the boathouse was one thing. But the djinn realm? “No, that’s a horrible idea. I mean, your parents will never allow it.”
She turned toward me, her face somber. “That’s why I’m telling you. I want you to help me stand up to them.”
“Selena, seriously. You can’t imagine how awful it is there. And dangerous.”
“We’re cousins. I want to help you.” Her gaze trapped mine. “Chase is like a brother to me.”
I hooked my hands behind my head, drawing in a long breath. Dad and I were a team. The best team, everyone had agreed about that. We’d worked together for years. It was as if I could read his thoughts, anticipate his moves. He could do the same with me. Cool and synchronized, that was us. Not spontaneous, headstrong, like Selena. Sure we had to take Lotli. We didn’t have a choice about that. But we wouldn’t have time to look after Selena.
I let out my breath. “I don’t think”—you should go was what I planned on saying. But the truth was, Selena might have come across as immature sometimes, but when we’d fought the genie Culus she’d proved she could hold her own and be invaluable to the team. She knew a lot about magic. She could think on her feet. She knew the risks. If the tables were turned, she’d be the first one to stand up for me. At a minimum, she deserved a chance to be considered. “Of course, I’ll stand up for you. But first we’ve got to pull off this boathouse rescue without a hitch—that means no crazy stuff.”
Her bottom lip turned out in a patented Selena pout. “Can I still buy the pink spikes for us?”
I laughed, but inside my worry blossomed into full-fledged fear. I wasn’t totally convinced Selena really was ready to face what waited in the djinn realm. Actually, with each passing second, I was becoming less and less convinced that any of us had the brains and luck it would take to outsmart the Sons of Ophiuchus and rescue Lotli.
CHAPTER 8
The influence these devious beings have had on human history is immeasurable. They stood behind Solomon, whispering in his ear and granting gifts upon the Blacksmith. They secreted the Mamluk warrior into the bed of the Mongol princess . . .
—www.MagicOfDjinn.com
Selena bought the pairs of raspberry-pink spikes. Between that and having everyone we met go crazy over her hair, I figured she’d sail along without objection when I suggested we stop at Beach Rose House for a few minutes. Instead, she whipped sideways in the passenger seat and gawked at me.
“Are you insane?” she said.
My face heated. I narrowed my eyes and clenched the steering wheel, ready to blurt out what had happened on the clifftop, about Chase and the blood, and my fears. But I forced my fingers to relax and took a deep breath. It didn’t make sense to get upset or to tell her what I might have experienced, at least not until I was sure it was real.
I glanced her way, my voice steady. “I promised her that I’d visit again—soon.”
“Yeah, and I’m sure she’d like that, but it was sheer luck that you got past the receptionist the last time.”
The side street that went to Beach Rose House came into view. My fingers tingled with a desire to steer down it. But a hollow feeling took root in my chest. As much as I wanted to see Chase’s mom, Selena was right. It wasn’t like they were going to keep letting someone who wasn’t on the approved visitor list in to see her. Eventually, they would stop me and, worse yet, notify Chase’s stepfather that I’d been there repeatedly.
Selena’s voice lifted. “Of course, if we could figure out how to get your name on the visitor list, then it would be a breeze.”
That was a good thought. I ran my palm along the steering wheel, struggling to keep my optimism in check. The approved visitor list was on their computer. Grandfather could hack into it and add me. It was a great suggestion. Except Grandfather was back at Moonhill. And I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to do it now. On top of that, I didn’t want him to ask why seeing her now was so important to me.
Screw it. “There’s an easy solution,” I said, winging down the side street. “I won’t try to get in by pretending to be a visitor.”
“What are you thinking—a nurse or intern instead?”
“Something like that.” It was a total bluff. I had no idea what I was going to do. “Zero. Zip. Zilch. Nada,” as Dad liked to say.
A half second later, we pulled into Beach Rose House’s parking lot. The facility itself was small and somewhat modern. It actually looked like a grade school with fancy landscaping.
“Wait here. I won’t be gone long,” I said.
Selena reached for her door latch. “You want help?”
“No, really. I’m going to just say hi. I’ll be right back.”
I jumped out of the car before she could insist on coming, and strode across the parking lot toward the front door. But I hadn’t even gotten to the sidewalk, when a woman in a turquoise nurse’s top came out, wiped something off the door’s glass, and then retreated back inside. It was the woman who’d been on duty at the reception counter when Chase and I had visited. Damn it. Of all the people I didn’t want to run into, she was at the top of my list.
To my left, rose bushes and hedges screened a tall stockade fence that enclosed the facility’s side yard. No getting in that way.
I veered to the right, toward where a service driveway wound around toward the back of the building. Partway
up the drive, the chain-link gate that was supposed to close it off stood open. Okay. Last time I was here Chase’s mom had given me her room number. There had to be numbers on the doors and maps to the rooms or signs in the main hallways. All I had to do was find an entrance and get inside without setting off an alarm.
I marched like I knew where I was going, through the gate and around the corner to the back of the building. The stench of rotting garbage hit my nose, followed by the clank and grind of a rubbish truck hoisting a Dumpster into the air.
The rubbish man nodded a hello. I smiled back and prayed that I’d find a way into the building and soon. It was kind of hard to keep looking purposeful without a destination in sight. Plus, it was likely the rubbish man had opened the gate so he could drive in. What if he also had a key—and locked it when he left? Sure I could hop the gate, but there was no discreet way to do that.
A whiff of cafeteria food and cigarette smoke mixed with the garbage. Glancing toward where the smell was emanating from, I spotted a loading dock just beyond the Dumpsters. A skinny guy in a cook’s apron crouched on the dock next to a door, a cigarette in his hand and a can of Red Bull on the concrete beside him. This looked promising.
I sucked in a breath, raised my shoulders, and strolled toward him, hips swaying, boobs pushed out.
His gaze swept over me and he grinned approvingly.
I sashayed up a set of stairs to the dock. “Hey, I was wondering if you could help me. I pushed the buzzer by the front door, but no one answered. Can I get to the kitchen through here? I’ve got an interview . . .” The rubbish truck’s hydraulics whined as it lowered the Dumpster, drowning out my voice.
The cook guy shouted something about food service manager, down the hall, and things looking up. I didn’t hear any more and I chose to ignore his hand gliding across my butt when he opened the door and let me in. Asshole.
The door slammed shut behind me. I took a quick glance around to make sure he hadn’t followed, then jogged past the kitchen’s open doorway and down the hallway toward a set of swinging double doors with windows set into them. The windows were meshed with wire, but they still gave an okay view of the cafeteria on the other side of the doors.