Trickster’s Hunt

by Kel Carpenter

  “There was something about a crocodile, and a bird…it wasn’t a dream…” I must have looked terrified. I felt it as the memory filtered into my head, and he moved down the bed in a swift movement, cupping my cheek in his warm hand.

  “Maia, you’re okay. Amos and Rhett dealt with him. I brought you here to finish healing you and to keep you safe. Rhett has some answers. You’re back to your usual healthy self. Everything is okay. No one will harm you. Not while we’re here.”

  I pushed his hand away. “I’ll be okay in a minute.”

  It turned out he’d taken me directly to their home. His room, for want of a better description, was typically Arabian. The walls and ceilings were hung with fabrics, the floor had piles of pillows that I assumed were for lounging, and the bed we shared was dressed in magenta and black satin sheets, pillows, and bolsters. The bed itself was made from dark wood, its headboard beautifully carved into a large triangle. It had four posts, but no canopy, and a matching footboard that kept the overstuffed mattress in place.

  It. Was. Heaven. Or as close to heaven as I think you could get without actually dying. I tried that. Don’t much care for it.

  I rolled from the bed. I didn’t want to be on there with him. “What’s with the décor?”

  He looked around and smiled. “I thought you’d like it. I don’t sleep in here. I have a stack of pillows out there and sleep on those.”

  I moved toward the door. “And the others?”

  “Rhett likes his own space. He sleeps in what can only be described as a library. Amos sleeps where he lands. More often on the sofa out there.”

  “And when you have company?”

  “Are you asking to stay over?”

  He had some nerve. “After the way you’ve… shit, what day is it?”

  “Still Friday. You only slept a couple of —”

  “What time?”

  His brows rose. “A quarter to nine. Why all the questions?”

  “Adam is due back at the hotel at nine. I was supposed to order him dinner. If I’m not there, he’ll panic.”

  It was brief, but I noticed a look of what I could have sworn was jealousy in his eyes before he turned away. “Then we should get you back to the hotel.”

  “I just need taking back. Are the others here? They can take me. They won’t be staying.”

  I could tell he wanted to snap something at me, but he held himself in check. Instead he said, “Stand for me.”

  My stomach flipped. That underlying command was back in his voice and I struggled not to react. But I didn’t have the fight in me after all that shit and I did as he’d asked. Bid. Whatever.

  He held up a finger and twirled it, indicating I turn around and I found myself standing before a mirror. He’d dressed me in a flowing A-line dress that was a shade of midnight blue, with silver pumps and a matching clutch. My hair was swept back from my face with two plain silver combs, and my face was lightly made up with just blush, mascara, and lip gloss.

  I was impressed, but there was no way I was letting him know that. I looked at him stony-faced through the glass. “I really need to go now. If I’m not there, he’ll report me missing.”

  “I’ll come.” He reached for my hand.

  “Don’t bother. Just drop me off.”

  “I won’t leave you, Maia.”

  He pressed his lips to my knuckles while holding my gaze and I snatched back my hand.

  “Fine. Do what you fucking like.”

  26

  If they felt awkward, they did a good job of hiding it. They were each dressed in black trousers and a shirt open at the neck. Silas wore red, Amos purple and Rhett blue.

  And they looked hot.

  While I was struggling with my emotions, flitting from furious with them to wanting to rip their clothes off, it didn’t escape me that they were wearing the colours of their armour.

  Their colours.

  We stepped from the lift as Adam walked through the front door of the hotel, handing his bag to the waiting porter.

  “Addie!”

  He did a double take. Not only at the quality of my dress and general lovely appearance, but at the entourage at my back.

  He kissed my cheek and took my hand, leading me away from my escorts. “Christ, love. I said get some, not all of it.”

  “I have no idea what you mean.” I looked back over my shoulder. They understood and followed a few paces behind.

  “Two nineteen,” Adam said as we passed the porter. I still didn’t trust him, creepy fucker, and I gave him the side-eye as we passed. “I assume this means you didn’t order dinner?”

  “Would you believe me if I said I was a bit busy and ended up running late?”

  He gave me his best saucy smile and linked my arm as we headed into the restaurant.

  Dinner was mediocre. I didn’t mind saying it either, now that I knew Rhett wasn’t on the payroll. It hadn’t taken them long to work out that Adam and I were not life partners, not in that sense anyway, and they’d relaxed into jovial conversation with him. As always, after three glasses of wine, Adam had lost all inhibition and begun a line of questioning that went along the lines of what three blokes wanted with one woman.

  Amos was forced to intervene when Rhett took it upon himself to answer with brutal honesty, making it sound weird and creepy, pulling Adam away to the bar and diverting his attention with a deep conversation about the quality of the wine. Adam, being a complete knobhead, thought he would show off with his non-knowledge. Amos was very gracious. I rolled my eyes, then turned to Rhett.

  “What the fuck was that? If I don’t fully grasp all this, and it’s happening to me, he won’t understand a word. If anything, he’s likely to start screaming and phone the police!”

  He had the grace to look sheepish. “I cannot stop it. I apologise.”

  “Why can’t you stop it?”

  “Haven’t you noticed?” Silas was lounging in his seat, swirling his wine, looking so incredibly bored. And hot. Fuck, he was hot.

  “He can’t seem to stop the brutal honesty. He can’t lie. It’s both fascinating and irritating. Amos always ends up as judge and jury. It’s like we have these personality traits and we can’t stop ourselves. It’s a compulsion.”

  “Job roles.”

  I looked at Rhett with my brows pulled in. I was in no mood for cryptic bullshit. “Job roles?”

  “We have some things to explain. We could have done without an extra one to entertain since explaining will not be easy, but we cannot help that now, so it shall have to wait. Suffice it to say, I really am trying not to be myself.”

  I noticed Amos moving across the restaurant, Adam behind him, and lowered my tone. “When did you find this out?”

  “This afternoon. I looked for clarification while you—” he cleared his throat and looked to Amos as he returned to the table. “Brandy, Amos? Adam?”

  Adam shook his head. “No, thanks. I’m knackered, so I’m going back to the room. Will you all be coming up soon?”

  In his usual deadpan, serious tone, Rhett put his foot in it. “I should not have thought so. Maia is not yet well enough acquainted with us.”

  My face was on fire, Silas choked on his drink, and Amos burst into deep rumbling laughter as Rhett realised that he’d done it again. He hastily left the table and went to order brandies for the rest of us. I watched him go. It was true. He really couldn’t stop it.

  “I meant are you going to your rooms...”

  “They aren’t staying here, Addie. I’ll be up after this brandy. I have to be up early for the final.”

  He leaned down, and I kissed his cheek before he left. I waited for him to be well out of sight before speaking again. Rhett had returned with our drinks and we sat in awkward silence for a moment.

  “Okay. What’s this about job roles?”

  The three of them exchanged a glance before Amos leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “Do you remember what Sobek said about you?”

  I frowned. Ever
ything was still a jumbled mess in my head and it was hard to tell what had really happened and what had been hallucinated.

  “That my real name is Ma’at, I’m going to die, I don’t know who I am, so it won’t be a loss...all that lovely stuff. Then he bit me, and I just about died. Again.”

  “You are Ma’at.”

  I rolled my eyes. Not helpful. “That’s amazing, Rhett, but who is she?”

  “A goddess.”

  A goddess. Alright. I may have been made to feel like one for half an hour earlier in the day, but that shit wasn’t real. No more real than genies and magic and talking cats…

  “And that makes you…?”

  “We are still what we are: djinn. But we are yours. Your protectors.”

  He couldn’t help it. I knew that, and he was trying so hard to explain, but I was tired, and I was sick of half stories and none of it making any sense. I was past my tipping point.

  I hadn’t wanted them to follow me that evening. I needed time to get my head around it all. Giant crocodiles, magical teleportation, another near-death experience, the magical appearance of a big fucking stick I had no use for… I wasn’t even sure how that had happened and it wasn’t the time to ask. I wouldn’t have listened. I couldn’t take it seriously. Part of me knew they were trying to help me, even if their methods pissed me off, but the rest of me couldn’t take any more.

  I lifted my glass and tipped it in his direction. “Wonderful job you’re doing. Cheers.” I tipped my head back and swallowed the brandy in one.

  “You’re being an ungrateful—”

  I shot Silas a look that I hoped was a warning to shut his mouth before looking from Amos to Rhett. “I’m done with this shit. And you, Silas. Don’t you dare speak to me like that again. Chastising me? I don’t fucking answer to you. My whole life fell to pieces the minute I opened that hotel room door to you, you bastard, so don’t sit there making this my fault.”

  I realised I was raising my voice and got up from my seat. I’d been the centrepiece of too many scenes in that place already.

  “It’s been a shitty week, and I think I’ve been really fucking good about it, given the circumstances. I have work tomorrow. So, yeah. Thanks for everything guys, but I can’t take any more. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave me alone.”

  I left the three of them sitting at the table. I didn’t look back as I left the restaurant and they didn’t bother to follow me. I took the stairs up to my floor, not wanting to give them the chance to get locked in a room with me and lecture me on being kept safe. I wouldn’t put it past Silas to get in there and stop the lift, making me listen to whatever they had to say. I didn’t care. Right then, I wanted nothing more than to sleep. I was too tired to keep mulling it over.

  Enough was enough.

  Adam was asleep when I got to our room. I struggled with the back zip of my dress and left it in a heap in the bathroom and went to bed in my underwear. I was done. I forced myself to shut down, to ignore it all. I let sleep claim me and hoped I wouldn’t be plagued by them in my dreams.

  27

  Adam sat at the front as usual, eyeing Captain Birdseye as he waited for the proceedings to begin. I was in no mood. I’d barely slept. Just waiting for something weird to happen.

  Like that cat to come in and start sending its thoughts to Adam and freaking him out, or a pterodactyl to come crashing through the window, impaling me on its beak.

  I’d spent a lot of time thinking about the last half hour in the restaurant. I hated that I’d snapped at Rhett. Amos hadn’t reacted, at all, so I had no idea what he was thinking. And Silas? He’d scolded me. I mean, who fucking did that? Like I was some sort of petulant child playing up at the dinner table. Like he had the right to speak to me like that. Like he had any sort of authority.

  He’d fucked me. He didn’t own me. Prick.

  Then, obviously with him in my head, I’d thought about the afternoon with him. I still wasn’t sure how that had happened. Okay, I know how it happened, but he was always so off with me…and I was off with him. After our exchange at the table, it was clear we couldn’t just get on.

  I looked to my right and smiled at my opponent. He looked about ready to vomit. Probably nerves, and I hoped he would be okay. I didn’t want to win by default. He gave me a weak smile in return as the adjudicators stepped to the front of the stage.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, if you would take your seats, the dishes are about to be presented. The rules are simple: the first to clear all their plates is the winner. If neither finish, the remaining food will be weighed, and the winner will be whomever has consumed the most.”

  Captain Birdseye turned and gave each of us a stern look. “The rules for you remain the same. Once the contest has been called to an end, you must remain in your seats for fifteen minutes. If you leave your seat, vomit, or are caught cheating in any way as per the rule book, your opponent will win by default. Good luck, contestants.”

  The waiting staff came with the dishes and I held in my groan. Silas led the way with a large oval platter piled with roasted meats, setting it down before me with a wink. He was followed by Amos, who carried three bowls, one holding roasted potatoes, another cauliflower cheese, and the last, a selection of steamed vegetables. Rhett was stony-faced as he approached, and I offered him a tight-lipped smile as he set down the final plate holding a whole sliced baguette and small dish of butter. They walked from the stage in their crisp white shirts and I felt my stomach turn over. There was no way I could eat with them there. Not after my outburst the previous night.

  My eyes followed their progress as they moved to the back of the room, and I quickly looked away as they leaned against the rear wall to watch. I looked back to Adam, who didn’t appear to have recognised any of them as they’d passed and forced a smile as he pointed down at the camcorder and yelled something about cheering the fuck up. That seemed to be everyone else’s signal to cheer, and the chanting began. I waited for the bell before I even considered picking up a fork.

  The bell rang too soon, and I scanned the room again before reaching for my fork. For the first time in my life, my appetite was non-existent.

  My stomach felt full, like there was a rock sitting in it. There was a lump in my throat. I couldn’t think straight.

  All because of the drama those three fucking men had brought with them, and now I was stuck at the table, surrounded by food, my income and reputation on the line, and no desire to eat. I pushed the fork into a chicken breast and sighed.

  On a normal day, the quartered chicken would be a breeze. The rolled pork belly would be an appetiser. The one-pound brisket would go down without a problem. Right then? Chewing was hard work.

  I poured myself a glass of water from the jug on my table, glancing at Adam. He looked confused. I never drank this early. I didn’t need to. I looked from him to the back of the room to see the three “waiters” watching me intently.

  Silas saw me looking and mouthed “What do you want?”

  I knew what he wanted. He wanted me to cheat. He could piss off.

  Irritation burned in the pit of my stomach, eating away at the knot of nerves. No, there wasn’t a chance in hell I was cheating. Certainly not to please him. Prick.

  Beside him, Amos stood with his arms folded. I couldn’t work out his expression, but he looked uncomfortable. So did Rhett.

  I couldn’t deal with them. Not then. I needed my head in the game. So I looked back at Silas and mouthed, “I want you to leave me alone.”

  “Maia! Sort your shit out!”

  Adam had realised there was something not quite right. He had a point. I did need to sort myself out. They didn’t matter. The contest did. They didn’t pay my bills or feed my dog. I had to perform if I wanted to afford to live.

  Swallowing the chicken in my mouth, I stuffed the other half of the breast in and reached for the bowl of potatoes. Fuck them. They didn’t get to just walk into my life and destroy everything I’d built with their bullshit. />
  Magic wasn’t real. Giant crocodile men weren’t real and whatever had gone on that week had all been some fucked up hallucination.

  Where I was, what I was doing, who was there to support me: that was real. Adam was my partner. The three of them had just been…real…

  There was no hiding from it. What was the point? It happened. They had healed me and fed me and fucked me. That had all happened. It was crazy, and it was terrifying, but it had happened.

  Nope. I wasn’t letting that shit in. I was working. I had to focus.

  The potatoes went down just fine. I didn’t dare to look at my opponent. I’d wasted enough minutes pissing about and he was probably most of the way through his meat dish. Fuck.

  The pork was a bit fatty, but to be honest, that just helped it slide down. The veggies were a nice little palette cleanser before I got stuck into the brisket and it was dry as hell.

  Answer? Half of it had to be eaten with the cauliflower cheese.

  That meant the sides were done, except the bread. I had half a dry brisket to tackle and tackle it I did. I sat and picked the whole thing into strips and layered the meat with the bread. I decided to make tiny sandwiches so that the butter would lubricate the whole thing.

  It was a fight not to look, but with just the two end pieces of the baguette left, I dared a glance to the guy next to me. He’d gone the other way, eating the bread with the meat, and he sat with just small amounts of each other sides remaining. He looked about ready to blow chunks. If he did that before I finished, I’d be pissed off. So, with renewed vigour, I bit into my bread and chewed furiously.

  God, it was dry. I’d run out of butter and there wasn’t time to ask for another bowl. Or mayo. Or syrup. Anything to just make it chewable. I was stuck with water, which would expand the bread already in my stomach and make me uncomfortable. It may even make me sick.