By the time I’d forced down the last mouthful, my throat was killing me. The dry, hard end of the loaf was rough going down and it had scratched the sensitive flesh. I really wanted a drink. Staring at my water glass, I raised my hand.
Captain Birdseye stood in front of me staring at my plates. “Miss Reeves?”
“I’m done. Can you start the timer, please? And get me some ice?”
He nodded over to the other judges and the timer was turned and the bell rang. Fifteen minutes. I looked to the guy next to me, just finishing his potatoes. The second he swallowed the last one, whole by the look on his face, he raised his hand for his timer to start.
Three minutes behind me.
Captain Birdseye grinned at me and started to tick off the boxes on his chart.
“One pound of rolled brisket. One pound of rolled pork. A whole chicken, quartered. Half a pound of potatoes. Half a pound of mixed vegetables. Half a pound of cauliflower cheese, and a one-foot baguette.”
I didn’t give a shit what it all weighed. I needed the ice. When the glass was placed on the table, I snatched at a cube and stuffed it in my mouth, closing my eyes. It eased the pain in my throat a bit, but was nowhere near enough, and I didn’t dare drink water. I could probably manage it, but I wasn’t taking chances. I needed that money.
Adam was on his feet, camera focused on my face, chanting my name with the rest of the crowd. I allowed myself to relax.
The bell rang, and the room cheered.
Adam was jumping up and down like some sort of demented cheerleader and I grinned down at him. He got so excited, bless him.
I scanned for the three waiters, but they were nowhere in sight. I felt a little bit disappointed.
“Congratulations.”
I looked at the contestant who had very nearly caught me up, and smiled as I rose to my feet.
“Thanks. See you next year?”
He turned a bit green and I got the hell off the stage before he threw up on me.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“I told you, no. I’m knackered, I don’t want to get out of bed until it’s time to catch the train home. And if you want one last hurrah with your little secretary, you should, because I won’t be much company. Just make sure you’re back in time to catch that train because I don’t want to spend another minute more than I have to in this city.”
He frowned at me but carried on getting changed. “Okay. Anything you need, you moody bitch? You haven’t eaten much this afternoon.”
“You to shut up because I can’t hear the telly.”
He pouted and picked up his wallet. “I’m worried about you.”
I threw back my head and groaned. “I’m fine, Addie. It’s just been a long week.”
“I bet it has. Where’s your little harem anyway?”
I clenched my jaw, keeping my eyes firmly fixed on the TV. When I didn’t answer, he snorted and made for the door. “Fair enough. See you later.”
I sighed and looked at the laptop that was open at my side. Adam had thought to bring it with him so I could get the video of the contest uploaded. The sooner I started getting hits, the sooner this whole mess would start paying for itself. I still had bills to pay. I was there for work, after all. Ten grand wouldn’t last long in the grand scheme. Not like I get a weekly paycheck.
Why was I being such a bitch? He’d done nothing wrong. He was nothing but supportive and helpful and here I was snapping and snarling over what?
Them. Everything.
The upload had completed over an hour before and the comments were rolling in. I felt a bit bad that I hadn’t bothered to keep in touch with my subscribers over the week, but I hadn’t had time between the attempts on my life and the weird shit I’d experienced. It hadn’t been high on my list of things to do.
I thought about it all. How they’d just turned up. How they’d found me and watched over me while all that other stuff kicked off. I couldn’t deny it had all happened. I couldn’t pretend it was all some sort of hallucination.
I remembered the pain of drowning.
The panic when the car had nearly hit me.
Being eaten by a bloody crocodile.
It all came with them. Everything was fine until Silas, the masseuse, pitched up in my hotel room. They were the problem. Those three perfect, beautiful, impossible djinn.
A scratching sound interrupted my thoughts and I looked at the door. No, wasn’t coming from there. It was the balcony. Rolling off the bed, I went to the doors and inched back the curtain. Two yellow eyes peered up at me and I pushed down the handle. “What do you want, Peregrine?”
I felt ridiculous addressing a cat formally.
“Call me Pip…don’t tell the djinn.”
He strolled inside and hopped up onto the bed, curling up in the warm spot I’d left, purring. I closed the door and locked it, tugging the curtain back over, and stared at him.
Cheeky little shit.
“They asked me to check on you.”
“Why didn’t they check themselves?”
He looked at me.
“Alright, so they’re staying out of my way. Why did they want me checked on?”
He rolled onto his side, eyes still fixed on me, and got himself comfortable. “There is a god trying to kill you and they are your sworn protectors. You dismissed them. They are concerned for your safety.”
I walked over and sat on Adam’s bed, pulling my knees up beneath my chin. “I didn’t hear them swear anything.”
“It was a very long time ago, but an oath is an oath, and they’re bound by it.”
“I’ll take your word for it. You can see I’m fine, so you can go and relay the message and get on with your day.”
“Don’t you have questions?”
“No.”
“Surely—”
“It all seems pretty self-explanatory, Pip. I’m being hunted down by some imaginary person who wants me dead. I have three mythical creatures stalking me and giving me no end of shit, and a telepathic cat keeps turning up in my hotel room uninvited and talking bollocks. Did I miss anything?”
He sat up and looked at me through narrowed eyes. “You are a reincarnation of a very important deity. Without her, the world was slowly descending into chaos. It isn’t obvious, yet, but it is happening. War, famine, ruin. It’s rife. Never has there been so much conflict. Never has there been so much suffering. The culprit, the one who took your power and banished you from your world, is hunting you down to keep you from taking your rightful place. There are three powerful, magical creatures sworn to protect you, if you would only let them, and yes, a telepathic cat who is trying to do the same. My advice, now that you have found one another, would be to keep your djinn close, Maia. You cannot comprehend the lengths your usurper will go through to keep you from coming back. That said, you are free to make your own choices. I am but a cat with no real power to help you, other than to advise.”
He stood and jumped down from the bed. I watched him as he sat in front of the balcony door. “They really are trying to help me?”
“Indeed, they are. Being apart from you is likely torture for them, considering they now know who you really are. If you could open the door that would be incredibly helpful.”
Chewing the inside of my cheek, I went and let him out. “Tell them I’m fine and I’m going home tomorrow. I’ve had enough of London. And thank you, Pip.”
He turned away and leapt up onto the balcony rail. “Congratulations, by the way.”
He jumped down and disappeared into the darkness of the street below. I stood there for a minute, looking for a sign of the three. They weren’t there. It was odd. I didn’t want to see them, but I felt a small pang of disappointment.
Painfully aware of how little I had on, I wrapped my arms around myself and went back inside, locking the door and closing the curtains again. The hotel room looked massive without the three of them taking up space. I hadn’t realised how used to them I’d gotten. Okay, Silas was overbearing, and R
hett was fucking annoying with his straightforward talk. Amos wasn’t much of a bother, but there was time for him to piss me off yet.
Or, there would have been if I hadn’t told them all to leave me alone.
If I wasn’t heading four hours north in the morning.
I climbed into bed, leaving the laptop where it was at the foot of the bed and the TV talking to itself. Adam had noticed I hadn’t eaten. He knew how ill it made me if I missed too many meals and I knew I should eat, but my stomach was in knots. I just wasn’t hungry.
I’d be okay in the morning, I told myself. I hoped. Back in my house. With my dog. Sleeping in my own bed. No genies. No taxis. No choking or drowning or fighting.
No, them. My stomach clenched and rumbled again.
“Fuck off.”
It didn’t.
The feeling stayed there. I don’t know what time I fell asleep, but it was before Adam came back. My dreams weren’t pleasant, full of Middle Eastern desert assassins and monsters and pain, but they didn’t wake me up. I was trapped in them, alone. Waiting to be rescued.
But I’d told my protectors to leave, and I was certain they weren’t ever coming back.
28
I couldn’t eat, so I sipped a glass of orange juice and watched Adam pick his way through a bowl of fruit and a croissant. I couldn’t be bothered to walk to the train station. I was exhausted, so I had the hotel concierge arrange a taxi.
“Give me that case.”
He was worried. I let him take it. I didn’t have the energy to haul the damned thing through the station anyway.
“Will you please eat something before we get on this train?”
I shook my head. “I’m not hungry. In fact, I feel a bit sick.”
“You think you’ve got food poisoning? Was that meat properly cooked?”
I didn’t think it was that. It felt more like anxiety. Like something bad was going to happen. I hadn’t been right since after the contest.
No. Before the contest.
I hadn’t been hungry then. Thankfully, I’d managed, and the cheque for ten grand was safely tucked into my bag. That would pay the bills for a bit, bolstered by Adam’s rent money, and I could relax for a while.
“I dunno. Probably picked up a bug. You know I don’t mix with the great unwashed. Someone probably coughed their plague on me when I was in the museum. Or the art gallery. Was probably there. You know what it’s like: everyone standing in one place for half an hour, coughing up at the walls.”
The train was already pulling in as we arrived at our platform and we made our way down to first class. I didn’t upgrade. It was paid for by the association. The way I was feeling, I was grateful for it. My stomach had started to churn, and first class meant fewer people and closer to a toilet.
“You went to an art gallery?”
I didn’t answer until we’d gotten to our seats. I flopped straight down at our table and scooted over to the window seat while Adam slid our cases onto the overhead racks, his job since he had the height advantage.
“Yeah. I was in Trafalgar square and it was free to get in, so…”
I looked out of the window as the train rolled into motion, a voice over the speaker system announcing our departure and scheduled stops. I’d said I didn’t want to be there another minute, but my stomach turned over with fear as the station passed outside the window.
I remembered what Pip had said.
That had been the single most bizarre week of my life, and I wanted to leave it behind me. But I’d left them there, too. All three of them.
“Must have been bad if you were looking at art.”
“I’m not a complete cretin.”
He took the seat next to me and kissed the side of my head. “Not a complete one, no. Want a drink?”
I felt hot. A drink would probably help. “Yeah. Just water please.”
“You haven’t eaten. Coke will help keep you going.”
I shook my head. “No, really, just water. I feel sick. I don’t want to upchuck here.”
“I’ll get you some ginger biscuits, too. Help settle your stomach. I won’t be long.”
I watched him leave the carriage, heading for the buffet car, and leaned my head back. I hadn’t felt that unwell for years and it was knocking me sideways. Eyes closed, I listened to the murmurs of the other passengers and the hushed click of the train’s wheels as it travelled along the track. I was tired. It’d be perfect if I could sleep the whole way home.
“Someone sitting here, love?”
I opened my eyes and a chill ran through me. He looked average enough with his well-cut jeans, trainers, and polo top. He looked friendly as he smiled at me, his eyes crinkling a bit in the corners. He was pretty, too. Not handsome. The djinn were handsome, a bit more rugged, a lot more…
“No, those two there are empty.”
He was what I avoided. People who made me feel like that. Like they were up to something. Like they couldn’t be trusted.
I’d felt it all my life, as far as I could remember, and it was why I didn’t have many friends. Some people just gave me a bad feeling and I could never shake it. So I avoided them. I always thought it was weird how some people had these massive groups of friends when half of them would shit on you at the drop of a hat. People couldn’t be trusted.
This guy couldn’t be trusted.
He was still looking at me when he sat down, and I felt so exposed. I was alone, defenceless against the feeling he gave me, and I didn’t have the strength to do anything about it. Stupid fucking virus, or whatever it was.
“So, where you going?”
A voice in my head screamed “mind your own fucking business,” but I answered honestly. “Manchester.”
“Me, too. Lucky us!”
I smiled and looked toward the doors of the carriage wondering how much longer Adam would be. I didn’t want to be there on my own.
Then it occurred to me that it was my fault that I was. I’d sent them away, hadn’t I?
After the most bizarre week of my life, after being drowned, almost run over, eaten, and hunted, I’d sent away the only three people in the world who knew it had happened and seemed to want to help me.
And I had no idea how to get them back.
29
Rhett
I had not realised that she was struggling. Had I asked, I would have known the truth. It really should have occurred to me, given all that she had been through that week, but I failed to consider that she would not believe it all.
It was different for us. We had spent an eternity searching for our identities. She already had one. She had a life, and friends, and human responsibilities. We had a lamp, magical abilities, and no explanation.
Until now.
There was no wonder she fled the city. The explanation was a relief to us, but for her it meant danger. More danger than she had likely experienced in her entire life. That she had us to protect her meant little when faced with the prospect of being hunted and eaten.
I was sorry for my part. I did not know how to soften the blows. I just told the truth, and however it sounded to her was out of my control. I did not mean to vex her. I simply said it as it was. But Silas had pushed her over the edge. Again.
I was unable to apologise to her, to try to explain, since she had expressed her wish for us to leave her alone. So, in our exile, we returned to the lamp. Silas was still in a rage. He had assumed, after their intimacy, she would accept his interference. He was clearly mistaken.
I set to work the moment we returned, holing up in my room, pulling several books from my shelves. I stayed there all night, piecing together the whole story from what we knew and what had been recorded by outsiders. It was an interesting picture. It explained a large part of who we had been prior to our incarceration. I wondered if she would think differently if I were able to explain this to her in detail.
Would she care? Would she accept who she really was? Would she accept me?
The uncomfortable sensa
tion between my shoulders was a constant reminder that she chose to abandon us. Silas claimed that she would have to touch the mark to make the pain stop. There was little chance of that now since we had no idea where she was.
“Still at it?”
Amos hovered at my door. Silas had fallen silent for the time being, and it seemed Amos wanted to see what I had worked out.
“Yes. I have pieced together enough to present something half-believable should we find her again. And if she is willing to speak with us, of course.”
“Her train leaves in thirty minutes.”
“I should follow her.”
I looked up from my work to see Silas standing behind Amos, looking mutinous.
“She said to leave her alone, Silas.”
“I didn’t say approach her. I said follow her.”
“Well you cannot go. If she sees you, she is likely to slap you.”
He frowned. “I still don’t understand what I said that pissed her off.”
Amos pinched the bridge of his nose. “Silas, you insulted her. You were reprimanding her.”
“She was being ungrateful. She needed to be told.”
I pointed down at the book I was reading. “That attitude toward her clearly serves no purpose but to aggravate her. She is not ours to command, Silas. The opposite, in fact. Do you still remember nothing of our previous life, even with all that has happened?”
He looked at me dumbfounded. If he remembered, he was keeping it to himself. “We must answer to her?”
“Precisely.”
“Well, I haven’t angered her yet. I could follow her, ensure her safety, and come back for you when I have talked her round. She won’t be mad forever, and we can’t risk any harm coming to her in our absence. I know she has her partner, but he isn’t likely to be much good against a god.”
“He’s just her friend. Nothing more.”
Amos turned his head and raised a brow. “Jealous, Silas?”
We heard him mutter something as he stalked back to his room and I smirked. “Did she tell you where she lived?”
Trickster’s Hunt Page 18