The Accidental Genie

by Dakota Cassidy

  Jeannie forgot everything when Sloan lunged for her just as all-out chaos erupted, covering her body with his and sheltering her already damaged face with his hands. She curled inward, forgetting that contact with a male was one of her biggest fears—forgetting that it was especially so with this male.

  Bodies flew in all directions and Darnell gruffly shouted something Jeannie didn’t quite catch with Sloan’s hands pressed to her head.

  In that moment, despite the shattering of glass and the roar of the floor ripping up in jagged tears, Jeannie allowed herself to experience the first moment of security she’d felt in over twelve years. A sigh escaped her lips, lips that were crushed against Sloan’s rippling chest.

  And then everything was still.

  Well, until a voice shrilled, “Are you effin’ kidding me, Drakaar? Do you have any idea how much this haircut cost? A little warning the next time warp speed is on the menu, eh? I’ll remember to pack my flatiron.”

  Ruh-roh. Was this wish number five?

  One wish, two wish, red wish, blue wish.

  CHAPTER

  8

  “It is Nekaar, madam,” a regal, cultured voice corrected. There was a hint of indignation in the newest addition to Paranormal-Palooza’s tone.

  Jeannie’s swollen eye twitched at the image in front of them; her eyes raced from the tips of this new person’s ringed, bare toes to the top of his shiny tanned head.

  Thank God, Mr. Clean was here. Everything just had to be okay now.

  Marty, her legs wrapped around the waist of a man in MC Hammer pants similar to Burt’s and a deep burgundy jeweled vest that revealed a hard, tanned wall of a chest, gave his sinewy shoulders a flick with her fingers. “I don’t care what it is. You said you’d get me home safely. How was that safe? You almost ripped my face off. Where did you learn to drive that thing? The Big Truck rally?”

  Keegan was on his feet and at Marty’s side before Jeannie could process what had just happened. He leered at the man, lifting his wife from the stranger’s well-muscled frame and throwing her over his shoulder fireman-style. “Who the hell are you?”

  Yeah. What the big, intimidating werewolf said. Jeannie shuffled her cold feet, moving closer to Sloan while she eyed this new stranger.

  Obviously, he was djinn, and despite his imposing appearance, he’d likely have some answers to their dilemma. From the way he wore his harem pants, if nothing else, maybe he could give her a tip or two on how to own them with the kind of no apologies that he wore his.

  “I am Nekaar, the djinn,” he stated, as though they should have all known that. He said it as if trumpets blaring should follow the words like an announcement. Then he lifted himself off the ground and hovered, crossing his legs and placing each ankle over his tree-trunk-sized thighs, scanning each of their faces with a look of haughty disdain.

  From the floor, Jeannie ran her hand over her hair to push it from her eyes and fought to ignore his David Blaine trick so she could focus. His name. Nekaar. Where had she heard that? Mat. Mat was the one who’d said Nekaar had cursed Burt to the bottle, hadn’t he?

  He was the reason she was in this mess, but before she could accuse him of such, Marty sighed with a loud rasp of exasperation.

  She blew her fringy bangs out of her face with a puff, making a face while she swung from her husband’s shoulder. “Keegan, honey? Not today—especially not today. Now put away your ego, and put me down. I’m fine.”

  Keegan’s grip grew visibly tighter around the backs of Marty’s knees as he stared down the interloper.

  She gave him a hard pinch on the ass. “Put me down, werewolf, or there’ll be no more Me Tarzan, You Jane Tuesday nights,” she warned, making Keegan go from insanely uptight to sheepishly chided.

  His face relaxed as he let her slide over his shoulder and down the front of his chest, leaving the tip of her nose touching his. Clearly he’d been worried sick about Marty, if his anger with Sloan over her disappearance was any indication, but more evident was the love his gaze reflected.

  A love he wasn’t afraid to share with anyone who looked on. He dropped a kiss on her nose before setting her on her feet, which were encased in slippers much like the one’s Jeannie had worn.

  Marty’s eyes twinkled when she cupped his jaw. “You’re the best Neanderthal husband ever, honey. Now give me a kiss and let me get back to what I was doing.” She stood on tiptoe, planted a peck on Keegan’s lips, and then waved a hand at him to go.

  But Keegan grabbed her arm, making the tassels on her sky blue, short-sleeved vest shake. “No more of this, Marty. You’re coming home with me before you end up hurt, and you’re doing it now. I’m not going to spend another damn second worried about you and this crazy OOPS deal.”

  Jeannie noted the concern and apprehension in Keegan’s eyes for his wife, and she again wondered what it would be like to have someone that devoted to her.

  “Oh, you’ve done it now, ass sniffer,” Nina crowed as she rose to her feet, holding out a hand to Wanda to help her up.

  Marty’s blonde head cocked so sharply to the left, she resembled a bobblehead. She cast a disdainful glance at Keegan’s hand before she pried his fingers from her flesh and slapped it away. “This is my job, lover.”

  “A job that could get you killed, honey. Especially dressed like that and hanging around nuts like him,” Keegan remarked, pointing up at Nekaar, though his tone was much less demanding and far more appeasing now.

  “This”—Marty waved a hand up and down her body and wriggled her filmy-covered hips—“was a gift from Nekaar. Don’t you think it’s cute? All those stupid crunches finally paid off. And excuse me, being a werewolf could get me killed. You sure fixed that, didn’t you?” Marty jabbed a finger into his chest for emphasis.

  As Sloan helped Jeannie to her feet, she prepared to apologize again even as she hesitantly eyed the silent man with the darting eyes Marty had ridden in on. “Keegan, I’m Jeannie Carlyle, and this is all my fault. I—”

  Marty pressed her fingers together and summarily stuck them under Jeannie’s nose to quiet her. “Do. Not,” she blazed before turning to her husband. “I will not have you apologize for something so completely out of your control, Jeannie. I will, however, tell you, Mr. Flaherty, I can do as I please. And if it pleases me to be shipped off to whereverthehell I just was because I’m trying to help a client, then that’s just how it’ll be. I’m more than just your love bunny, sunshine. I have a career. One that makes me happy because I can help innocent people get on with their lives. I’m not just pretty, Keegan Flaherty, and not everything in my life revolves around you, head werewolf. Don’t you forget it.”

  “And it’s on,” Nina bellowed with an abrasive chuckle, placing a hand on Darnell’s shoulder and squeezing it, her face gleeful with anticipation.

  Darnell grunted at her and rolled his big, brown eyes. “Don’t you go makin’ trouble now, vampire. You just hush.”

  Jeannie winced, worried Keegan would react badly to Marty’s reprimand, but instead, he smiled and barked an indulgent laugh. “You’ll be the death of me, cupcake.”

  “In a thousand lifetimes, no truer words have been spoken,” Nekaar commented, sucking in his lean cheeks.

  Sloan leaned into her, avoiding the hole in the floor to whisper a sensuous reminder, “I told you wherever Marty landed, she was making someone want to yank their hair out. Now, watch and see how she wraps Keegan around those perfectly manicured fingers of hers with just one pout. Did I tell you he was a Nazi when it came to Marty?”

  He had. And Keegan was. And it was adorable.

  But Marty didn’t let Keegan say anything else. She placed a hand over his mouth and narrowed her eyes in definitive warning. “Not another word. Now, I love you. Be gone so I can work. Take Casey with you. She has that winter formal to help Naomi prepare for. Kiss Hollis and Muffin, t
ell them Mommy will see them soon.” She blew him a kiss and waved him off.

  Keegan’s jaw hardened, but Marty hopped over several chunks of Jeannie’s flooring and popped open her now crooked front door with a saccharine sweet smile. “Casey? Be an angel and set him on fire if he acts up, will you? Oh! Don’t forget to ask Helga to water the plants in the kitchen when you get home, please. I might be gone for several days, but I’ll call you like an obsessed teenage boy calls his stalking victim. Promise.”

  Casey nodded her head in the direction of the door and mouthed a “stay strong” to Jeannie. Keegan grunted, but clearly defeated, he slapped his brother on the back before trailing a finger down the side of his wife’s face with an affectionate gaze. Then he was gone, following Casey out the door.

  No sooner was Keegan gone than Marty was already turning to the stranger, who appeared to be assessing the mess of her brownstone with an eagle eye. Her gaze up at him was one of admonishment. “Make nice, would you?” She clucked her tongue when her eyes scanned the floor. “I don’t know where you learned your reentry skills, but you need to go back and take that test over, because it blew chunks. So make your magic, Yul Brynner. We have much to discuss with Jeannie.”

  He scowled in all his hard hotness, first at Marty, then at the dismal condition of the room. “It is Nekaar, madam. Nek-aar,” he said with slow precision, lifting his square chin in arrogant posture as he corrected her.

  Marty shrugged her shoulders and hooked her feet at the ankles. “I don’t care if it’s Ruler of the Universe. Fix, Ali Baba. Please.”

  Craning his thick neck, Nekaar crossed his long arms over his vested chest, holding up a finger to his lips to silence everyone. He waited with a dramatic pause while the group quieted, then blinked his eyes twice. A loud rumble accompanied a shivering groan beneath their feet.

  Order was restored in mere seconds in a cloudburst of blue smoke. In fact, her brownstone was cleaner than it had been in years. Though, no one batted an eye, so Jeannie kept her surprise on the inside in order to fit in. It was clearly all part and parcel of one’s supernatural lifestyle. Still, she stayed close to Sloan as a just in case.

  From the corner of the room, Mat woke with a start, exhaling a hacking cough before rising upward to almost his full length, launching into the air, his ends spread open wide. There was a wheezing whistle as he swerved to the left, appeared to locate Jeannie, zeroed in on her, and promptly hurled himself at her, knocking Sloan out of the way.

  She fell hard to the ground in puffs of dirt with Mat wrapped around her like he’d done when they’d first met. Jeannie groaned and tapped his threads. “Mat! What are you doing?” she sputtered, blowing the dust particles from her eyes while everyone gathered around them, including Nekaar.

  “Shhhh, doll. I’m protecting you from the bad genie. Stranger danger. We’re invisible. No one can see us.”

  Jeannie scanned the room and all the surprised glances. “Mat?”

  “Dollface?”

  “Not invisible.”

  His fringe bristled with indignation. “The Internet said I’m supposed ta be able to make myself invisible.”

  “Oh, that crazy Internet,” Jeannie responded.

  “It says I can fly, too. It also said I’m your guardian forever or something. I didn’t read it all on account a I fell asleep. There was a lotta words.”

  “What kind of guardian sleeps through an entire room splitting apart?” Sloan asked, his voice full of disbelief and aggravation.

  Nekaar still hovering, peered over Sloan’s shoulder and made a sour face full of displeasure. “Oh dear,” he drawled from above, his gaze haughty.

  “The room broke?” Mat asked, then coughed.

  “Big,” Jeannie assured, stroking him with an encouraging smile. “But it’s okay now. I’m okay now, too.”

  Sloan peeled Mat off Jeannie, giving him a shake, and sending more dust into the air. He held out a hand to Jeannie to help her up, then eyed the carpet. “Mat?”

  “Eye candy?”

  “Not helping,” Sloan retorted before spreading Mat out in the corner. “Stay put,” he ordered.

  Nina moved with swift feet, keeping her eyes on Nekaar while she pushed her way to Marty’s side, giving the length of her friend’s hair a tug. “Jesus, blondie. You okay?”

  Marty smirked and threw her arms around Nina’s neck, pressing a noisy kiss to it. “Did you miss me, Elvira?” she teased, her blue eyes twinkling.

  Nina rolled her eyes in disgust, but Jeannie noted, she didn’t deny it. For a moment, her gaze was chocolatey soft, but then it went hard when she sought out the newest addition to their paranormal sideshow.

  She untangled herself from Marty, and as she approached Nekaar, her stance was wide and defensive, her fists tight. Nina hitched her jaw up at him. “You the freak who had Marty all this time?”

  He held up a wide, long-fingered hand before squeezing his temples, his expression pained. “Indeed.”

  Nina leaned into him and grinned, evil mischief in her eyes. “She why your hair’s gone?”

  One deep brown eyebrow lifted, as did the corner of his lip, when he lowered himself to the ground. “Had I any to begin with, I assure you, madam, I would be without now.”

  Marty snorted and patted him on the back with a hard slap that jolted him forward. “Oh, c’mon. It wasn’t that bad. I just made some suggestions to lighten up your bottle’s living space. It’s so drab and gloomy. All those deep purples and burgundies need some levity.”

  “So where have you been, Marty?” Wanda asked, giving her a tight hug and letting go a sigh that was obviously relief filled. “We’ve been worried sick.”

  “I was with Nekaar in his bottle. Don’t ask how that’s where I landed. What I want to know is, how the hell did I get there and who made that wish?” She paused, rolling her tongue along the inside of her cheek. “No. Wait. I know. It was Mighty Mouth, wasn’t it?” She slapped her hand to her forehead. “Of course it was.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, I didn’t say it out loud,” Nina groused. “And I didn’t wish for you to be in a bottle. I wished shit that was much fucking worse, but swear on Hollis, I just thought it in my head. Who the fuck knew the midget could grant wishes like she was handing out free samples at Costco?”

  Marty’s expression went from mildly annoyed to confused. She pressed her hands to her hips. “Oh, Cheebus. You just thought it? So Jeannie’s granting wishes telepathically?”

  Nekaar was suddenly all motion and sound. His ringed toes spread when he flew across her floor and stopped short in front of her. “Is what the flaxen-haired woman with the endless stream of nonsensical words says true, madam? You can grant wishes without hearing the spoken words?”

  Jeannie hesitated only for a moment. Clearly, Marty didn’t think he was a threat, which meant he’d gotten the paranormal green light. “That’s how you ended up with Marty. Nina didn’t actually speak her wish out loud. She just thought it, but she didn’t wish Marty into a bottle. She wished something much worse. Which clearly means I need genie lessons . . .” Jeannie licked her lips nervously. None of this made any sense. Nina had wished Marty would fall off the face of the planet.

  Pretty straightforward. In fact, most of the wishes she’d granted had all been granted exactly as they’d been requested. So what had gone wrong with Nina’s?

  Nekaar stared at her long and hard as though he were scanning the depths of her soul, making Sloan’s arm around her tighten.

  Jeannie fought a flinch, and rushed to apologize for her inadequacies again. “Okay, so just say it. I’m the crappiest genie ever. I guess a big fancy genie like you wouldn’t understand what it is to suck like I do, but give me a little time and the djinn handbook, which I swear I’ll study like I’m taking my driver’s license test, and I’ll be golden. I’m a super quick study—even with
my bad memory. I also hear this gig is forever, so any help with getting control of this is more than a little appreciated.”

  Marty swept across the floor and poked Nekaar in his big, bronzed, Mr. Clean–like arm. “Talk, Yul. Tell her what you told me.”

  Nekaar crossed his arms over his chest and looked to Jeannie. “Is it as the woman with the crimson lips that always move says? Burt spoke before imprisoning you in his wretched bottle?”

  Jeannie nodded hard. “Yes! I think. I don’t know. He spoke in a foreign language . . . I think . . . and to be honest, it all happened so fast, and I was so shocked when he popped out . . .”

  The djinn’s eyes flashed hot and angry. “Then we must find Burt, for he has spit upon the djinn and brought great dishonor to our kind!” he thundered, the overdeveloped muscles in his shoulders flexing and tensing.

  Jeannie held a tentative hand up, inching a little closer to Sloan. “Before you go curse-crazy here and let your temper get the better of you, you are the genie who cursed Burt to the bottle, right?”

  He gave her a condescending look with sharp eyes. “I am. You knew this, how?”

  “It’s a long story, but my magic carpet, Mat, heard you do it. That’s for later. So why did you curse him to the bottle?”

  Regret flashed in Nekaar’s eyes—regret and something else Jeannie didn’t understand. “Burt is a blight on the djinn community. Unlike what you have obviously read on your computers and watched on your televisions with the screens so thin one would wish to feed it a cracker, we are an honorable people. We wish only to live out our centuries in peaceful coexistence. Thus, we primarily live beyond this realm and stay behind the veil.”

  “Veil . . .” Jeannie muttered. Yet more genie lingo. “Is that like an entire genie world separate from our human world? Because if being a genie means I have to live somewhere else, I want out.” No more relocation, thank you very much.

  “Indeed, madam. We do have a universe apart from yours. As you are not djinn by birth but rather by circumstance, I know not what this means for your future.”