Magical Redemption

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Magical Redemption Page 20

by Nicola E. Sheridan


  “Remember, you’re not handing me over; you’re taking your last wish and setting me free–so I can die.”

  “I never said I would allow that.” Lucian’s eyes were hard.

  “But…” Jinx cried, “what else can we do?”

  There was a loud knocking on the door.

  “Lucian, Jinx,” Omar said. “Err…I do hate to interrupt, but…”

  “Don’t come in,” Lucian growled, his gaze locked back on pelesit.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Omar’s voice was dry. “My wife wants to know if you’d like something to eat…something other than each other.”

  “Nothing,” Lucian growled.

  “Suit yourself,” Omar retorted. The sound of his footsteps receded down the corridor.

  “We’ve got to go.” Lucian turned to Jinx.

  “Where shall we go?”

  “Somewhere nice.” Lucian spun her around to face him. “We don’t have much time.”

  She looked up into his face. Morphed by his demonic heritage, he was an awesome if not terrifying sight, yet her heart melted. Behind those alien, red eyes and the curling, ruby horns was a man she wanted to spend the last hours of her life with.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” he grunted. “Let’s go.”

  “Shouldn’t we say goodbye to them?” She gestured to the door, unwilling to say their names in the presence of the pelesit.

  “No.” Lucian glanced at the pelesit. “I do not want it to see them. I owe them that at least.”

  Jinx nodded, closed her eyes, and thought of somewhere―somewhere not necessarily nice but where she always wanted to return.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jinx and Lucian disappeared in a puff of rainbow-colored smoke without saying farewell to their erstwhile hosts. They soon arrived in the middle of a quiet, suburban street. Jinx sagged beside one of the cars nestled in the street as the familiar tide of tiredness swept over her. She glanced down the street to see most of the houses had their curtains drawn, protecting the occupants from the blistering, late-afternoon sun.

  “Where are we?” Lucian asked. His demeanor was slumped as he tried to be unassuming. Jinx could tell he was all too aware that his hulking demon form dominated and disrupted the normality of the scene before them. She gently shrouded him in magic, cloaking his appearance and making him appear as an ordinary, not dangerous-looking man.

  “Better?” she asked, battling the swamping weakness that always followed magical travel. She ran a fleeting hand down his chest. Through the mirage of magic, she felt the bulk of his muscles beneath his stretched, torn shirt. Her heart flittered. He didn’t answer for a moment.

  “Where are we?” Lucian repeated , hazarding a glance around the street. It was lined with jacaranda trees, some still with purple flowers that wilted in the summer heat. The houses were all modest, with neat, browning lawns lining driveways and gardens.

  “This is...my…” She hesitated and wiped perspiration from her top lip. “This was my home.” She gestured awkwardly to a tidy, red brick house. In contrast to its neighbors, the garden was lush and green. Jinx assumed this was either due to the occupants ignoring water restrictions or illegal use of magic.

  Lucian furrowed his brow. “Why did you come here?” He grabbed her hand before she could turn and refuse to answer. “I thought you hated this place?”

  “I don’t hate it. I’ve missed it.” She took a deep gulp of Perth’s hot, dry summer air. “If I’m going to die…” She looked at him pointedly as if daring him to argue. “If I’m going to die, I think the honorable thing to do would be to say farewell my family properly.”

  “Honorable? You’re dead to them, anyway,” Lucian growled. His true form shimmered beneath the magic, making him look devilish and terrifying.

  Jinx stared at him. “That is as it may be. I will say goodbye this time.”

  Lucian shook his head. “This is foolish.”

  He was irritated with her, and it irritated her in return.

  “They will only hurt you more. I will not stand for it,” he growled as he held her immobile.

  “Lucian.” Jinx tightened her grip on his hand in return. “Let me do this.”

  He tightened his face and yet again, she saw through the magical shroud. His canines glistened in the sun.

  “We could be relaxing on a desert island, or walking the streets of New York. Instead, here we are in the heart of suburban Perth.” He spat the word. “Are we waiting for you to be abused by the family that cursed you? We hardly have any time left. Why waste it here?”

  Jinx looked down. His words made her throat thick. “I…I don’t expect you to understand,” she said lamely.

  “I don’t understand.” His tone held warning, and power warmed it at the edges.

  Jinx could sense him tempted to command her. “Lucian, please,” she whispered quickly, meeting his steely gaze.

  She saw Lucian warring against the urge to overpower her. The stiff set of his enormous shoulders and the grim line of his mouth betrayed him. She licked her lips and waited.

  A small Indian dove flew by, its wings making a noisy flutter. Jinx held her breath.

  Like a glacier melting, he relaxed his shoulders and slowly shook his head.

  Jinx couldn’t control the sudden, loud pounding of her heart. Was he going to refuse her?

  The dry wind swirled around them, pushing hair into her eyes. Jinx tucked the tendrils of hair behind her ear with her spare hand.

  “Yasmina, how did a woman as good as you ever get stuck with a devil like me?” Lucian’s tone was surprisingly gentle as he pulled her roughly into his arms.

  She exhaled and pressed her face into the muscled cushion of his chest. His pounding heart matched the staccato rhythm of her own.

  Finally, reluctantly, Jinx pulled away. Without a word, she led him up the neatly paved pathway to a green-painted front door.

  The green is new, she thought. Hesitating, she lifted her hand to ring the old-fashioned, tarnished, black bell hanging beside the door. She heard voices inside that sounded hushed and strangely soothing.

  Lucian squeezed her hand.

  “You don’t have to,” he said, but she gripped the bell before she could stop herself. The familiar smell of her father’s magic hung in the chiming of the bell. There was a soft, gentle sound that carried through the dry air and calmed the listener.

  Lucian loosened his grip as her father’s magic took effect. Jinx stilled, her heart still hammering within the confines of her ribcage. How would they greet her? Scorn, anger, fury? She didn’t know.

  After a long moment, there was a shuffling behind the door. Jinx knew it was her mother’s heavy footfall. She probably had rose-colored house slippers on and was scuffing her way up the shiny, white-tiled corridor.

  “Who is it?” a thick, Lebanese voice asked.

  She sounds older, Jinx thought bemusedly, though she knew her mother, a magician in her own right, would age very slowly indeed.

  “It’s me,” Jinx croaked.

  Through the frosted-glass panel of the green door, Jinx saw the hand on the chain stop mid-movement.

  “Who is it?”

  “Mama, it’s me.”

  “Oh.” There was a frantic scurrying to open the door. Jinx’s heart flew into her throat.

  The door opened a crack. A large, beak-like nose followed by two huge, dark eyes peeped through. Tears instantly blurred Jinx’s vision.

  “Yasmina,” her mother breathed as reciprocal tears scurried down her brown cheeks. The door opened wider. Her mother looked as she had fourteen years ago, except perhaps a little plumper. It was her eyes that showed a difference. The large, brown orbs held a sorrow so deep, they swam in it.

  Jinx took a deep breath and stepped toward her mother.
It was at that moment her mother glanced up and noticed Lucian.

  * * * *

  Mrs. Maalouf gave a high-pitched shriek. A barrage of magic sent both Jinx and Lucian reeling backward onto the garden path. Lucian, with his heightened demonic senses, caught Jinx before she careered into the small hedge lining the pathway.

  “Yasmina, what have you done?” Her mother gasped. “Farid,” she cried. She then conjured a protective shield around the house, discarding any concern that the Department of Magical Investigations could charge them for illegal magic usage. “You bring a demon to our home? You want to punish us?”

  Though Jinx had known her mother would be able to see through the magic shroud protecting Lucian from curious human eyes, she hadn’t considered her reaction to his identity.

  “Mother, he’s not a true demon.” She knew how bad he looked. With coiling ruby horns, red eyes, and a body the size of Arnold Schwarzenegger on steroids, she understood her mother’s terror. Jinx saw her father thundering down the corridor behind her mother.

  Farid Maalouf was always a pillar of strength for his family. As a magician, he looked no older than forty despite being over sixty. His strong features and deep-set, dark eyes glowered at Jinx. He looked ready and willing for action.

  A flurry of furious Arabic flowed.

  “No Abi, no. He’s not evil. Stop. I haven’t...” Jinx cried out.

  Farid Maalouf didn’t stop. Spittle flew from his mouth and caught in his moustache.

  “Stop,” Jinx cried again as her father continued his insults.

  Lucian squeezed her hand and whispered, “Let’s go.”

  Jinx tugged him forward, disregarding her father’s insults.

  “No, I have to say goodbye. They may not love me anymore, but it’s something I must do.”

  Her father paused in his attack as they spoke.

  “They will not listen,” Lucian snapped and tugged her back. “I’m not standing here and listening to him abuse you.” His red eyes flashed as he tugged her a little further down the garden path. “We have precious little time left.”

  It was then something unexpected happened. Farid bellowed in outrage and strode past the protective boundary of magic toward them.

  “Do not touch her,” he barked at Lucian.

  Lucian sneered and bared his wickedly sharp, demonic canines. “Don’t touch her?” he growled, spinning to face Farid Maalouf. “So says the man who cursed his own daughter to a life of slavery as she lay dying in childbirth? What do you care?”

  Farid’s face paled before he puffed his chest in outrage at the accusation.

  “Did you think I didn’t know?” Lucian hissed. “You both disgust me. I may be demonic, but I’d never treat my child as you have her.”

  Beside the front door, Jinx’s mother bit back a wounded moan. Lucian didn’t seem to notice. Rage radiated out from him like heat haze around molten rock. His reddened skin darkened further. “I ought to crush your neck for what you’ve put her through,” he snarled, advancing now on Jinx’s father. Although tall, Farid was dwarfed by Lucian’s tremendous, demonic form.

  Instead of flinching, Farid looked around Lucian’s body toward his daughter. “Call off your pet demon, girl,” he growled, not an ounce of fear visible on his stern face.

  “He’s not my pet demon,” Jinx said. She stepped up behind Lucian and laid a gentle but calming hand on the small of his back. At the touch, Lucian stopped advancing but his shoulders remained taut. “He’s my master and my–” What exactly was Lucian to her? “My friend,” she said weakly.

  “How you have fallen, girl,” her father growled. “Begetting a bastard, breaking our family pact, and now befriending demons!”

  Lucian let out a roar of fury and barreled up to Farid. He gripped his shirt collar in one massive hand and pulled the man onto his toes. “Don’t you dare speak about her like that,” he snarled, looking more feral and terrifying than Jinx ever imagined he could. “She’s a better woman, genie or not, than you’ll ever be a man.”

  Through Lucian’s rage, whatever shroud of magic Jinx had conjured disappeared. He stood before them in all his demonic glory. Jinx’s mother wailed a prayer from the doorway and covered her eyes.

  “Be gone, you godless demon,” Farid growled, somehow retaining his dignity despite Lucian’s grip on his collar.

  “Apologize to her,” Lucian snarled. His words sounded sibilant due to his over-large teeth. “Do it, now.”

  Farid grimaced. Instead of apologizing, he uttered some sort of spell under his breath. Lucian flew backward and crashed into the hedge lining the pathway. He let out a bellow of complete indignation and lurched upward. Jinx laid another calming hand on his heaving chest.

  “Stop,” she said. “Both of you.”

  She turned toward her father. Like Lucian, Farid’s chest was heaving beneath his neatly ironed, mint green shirt. He flared his nostrils and glared at Lucian through dark eyes.

  “Abi, Lucian. This is important. We didn’t come here to fight.”

  Farid turned and looked at his daughter as if noticing her for the first time.

  “I’ve come to say goodbye. That’s all,” Jinx whispered.

  Jinx’s parents were startled by her words.

  “We said goodbye to you years ago,” Farid said.

  “Well, I was never given that chance,” Jinx replied calmly. There was a scuffling in the corridor. A young man’s voice could be heard.

  “Gran, Gramps? What’s going on?”

  Mrs. Maalouf’s eyes widened as she went to close the door.

  “Gran?” Jinx croaked and stepped forward toward the door.

  “No,” Farid growled. “Maha, close the door.”

  Mrs. Maalouf scurried back toward the door and slammed it.

  “What do you mean ‘Gran’? Whose Gran are you?”

  There was a banging on the door from the inside. Jinx saw the silhouette of a young, slender boy.

  “Is everything okay?” the boy asked through the door. “Gran, open up. I’m getting worried. Who is out there?”

  Jinx’s heart hammered as her world shrank. She absorbed every centimeter of the silhouette behind the frosted glass. “I was an only child.” She gasped and raised a trembling finger toward the figure. “Who is calling you Gran?”

  Mrs. Maalouf chewed her bottom lip and cast her husband a secretive glance. “Farid?” she asked softly. “We must tell her.”

  “Tell me what?” cried Jinx, her throat growing increasingly tight. “Is that my…son?”

  Farid dropped his gaze. More tears welled in her mother’s eyes.

  “Oh, God.” Jinx choked on her words and emotions.

  “What’s going on?” the boy called, again. He banged in earnest on the door and raised his voice to a panicked wail. “Granpa!”

  Jinx didn’t feel she could get enough air. Her head swam, and her vision was blurred. They weren’t denying it!

  Jinx used her last ounce of energy to magically pull the door open. The hot air was thick with the scent of genie magic as her rainbow smoke dissipated, and the boy was revealed.

  * * * *

  Exhaustion and bewilderment floored her. A boy with wide, hazel eyes stared at her from behind a large, beak-like nose. His hair was tussled, and he was dressed in neat tartan shorts and a nicely pressed white T-shirt. A few spots marred a deep-olive complexion. There was no mistaking the family resemblance.

  “My son?” Jinx wheezed, colored spots flickering behind her eyes and disturbing her vision. Her breath was coming out in short, hot pants. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. The spots thickened in her sight, and though she struggled to maintain consciousness, the blackness came. Suddenly, there was nothing.

  * * * *

  Lucian caught her before she fell. He lifted
her effortlessly into his arms.

  “You sick bastards,” he hissed at the Maaloufs, but his gaze was riveted to the boy. Strange and unexpected emotions ran through him: surprise, amazement, shock, and finally jealousy.

  Jealousy? he wondered fleetingly. Yes, jealousy. Why? The boy looked so much like Jinx, it was uncanny; however, where Jinx was small, her son was tall and lanky, and his adolescent body holding the promise of broad, masculine shoulders. Confusion roared through him. Why am I jealous? He already knew: he was jealous because Jinx’s son was not his.

  Pushing the confusing thoughts aside, anger swiftly replaced them. He glanced down at Jinx unconscious in his arms. “How could you keep this from her?” he snarled. “Have you any idea how she has suffered?”

  Farid paled briefly but color returned quickly.

  “You know nothing,” Farid snapped and turned to the boy. “You know nothing about this family. Hakim, go inside. This is no business of yours.”

  The boy dropped his mouth open. “Granpa, who is she? What’s wrong with her? Why did she call me her son?”

  “Hakim. I said inside, now,” Farid roared.

  In a gesture that surprised Lucian, the boy jutted his chin and glared at his grandfather defiantly.

  “Hakim, do as your Jidi says,” Mrs. Maalouf whispered quickly as Farid’s face became increasingly florid with anger. Hakim dropped his chin at her gentle words, but his young, slightly spotty face remained troubled as he turned and fled back into the house.

  They stood still for a few very awkward moments. Lucian was at a loss. What could he do? Where could he go? Without Jinx’s magic to hide his demonic form, he wasn’t going to inspire much trust. He had no magic with which to teleport. He was stuck here with Jinx until the Pater Rex came knocking. His jaw tightened.

  “Help her,” Lucian snarled and felt his anger spike. Jinx’s head lolled back as she lay listlessly in his arms.

  “She is no daughter of mine,” Farid snarled. “She shamed us. She consorts with…demons. I will protect Hakim from her.”

 

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