Magical Redemption

by Nicola E. Sheridan

“You’re protecting no one but yourself,” Lucian hissed, feeling the blazing sun begin to burn on his horns and make them unnaturally hot. “She does not consort with demons. I am her master; she had no choice.”

  Farid’s expression soured.

  “She had no choice, because you gave her none. She’s suffered enough. Look at her,” Lucian snarled and thrust Jinx’s limp form in front of him, displaying her fragile form to her father; however, it was her mother who reacted.

  “Farid, bring her inside. Please, she’ll burn in the sun,” Mrs. Maalouf cajoled. Lucian could detect the scent of her gentle magic in the air.

  “Don’t use your magic on me, woman,” Farid barked without turning. The sweet floral scent of magic dissipated, and Farid unexpectedly reached out to take Jinx from Lucian. Lucian noticed his outstretched hands were large with sweat lining the creases.

  “I come with her,” Lucian growled. Farid dropped his hands away.

  “You do not enter my house!” He made the sign of the cross. Lucian couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

  “You have my word I will not hurt you,” Lucian said. “I just want Yasmina to be safe.”

  Farid’s bravado faltered at the sound of his daughter’s real name. Lucian watched his dark eyes flicker over his daughter’s body. His lips thinned.

  “Granpa, let her in,” the boy said softly from the door.

  “Hakim, I told you,” Farid warned.

  “Granpa, please. If she’s…if she’s…my mother…” He gazed at Lucian. “I want to meet her.”

  Farid let out a loud and irritable sigh.

  “You have my word,” Lucian said, again.

  “The word of a demon is meaningless,” Farid grumbled. He turned toward the house.

  “Demon spawn,” Jinx murmured sleepily in his arms. “My demon spawn.”

  Lucian squeezed her a little tighter and followed her father into the cool depths of the house. He didn’t care this time that the pelesit followed.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Farid’s body was tight and agitated as he gestured for Lucian to lay Jinx down on a white, leather sofa. He gently stroked the loose strands of hair from her face and did so. Lucian straightened and stood back, hovering not far from her side, but unwilling to sit or relax.

  “You can sit.” Mrs. Maalouf gestured to the La-Z-Boy chair beside the sofa.

  Lucian shook his head. “If it’s all the same, I’d rather stand. We will not be here long.”

  Mrs. Maalouf wilted but looked toward Lucian as if asking for permission to approach her daughter.

  “Of course,” Lucian muttered. Trying not to look at his black-clawed hand, he gestured her toward Jinx.

  Mrs. Maalouf’s sorrow was palpable as she knelt on the glossy, white tiles beside the sofa. She reached out a gentle, brown hand and wiped the still-moist perspiration from her daughter’s brow.

  “Yasmina, Yasmina,” she murmured softly, lowing her head toward Jinx’s. “I’m sorry,” she whispered thickly.

  Jinx’s eyes fluttered. For a second, they sprung open, wide and unseeing, darting around the room to look for something familiar. Her gaze found Lucian, and there was a moment of pure terror before recognition replaced it with heartbreaking acceptance. “Lucian,” she whispered, reaching out her hand toward him.

  Lucian stood awkwardly before kneeling down beside Jinx and accepting her hand. Mrs. Maalouf shrunk away from him, as if the close proximity might be contaminating.

  “Are you all right?” Lucian asked. His throat felt strangely thick.

  * * * *

  “He’s alive,” Jinx whispered as a smile turned the corners of her lips. “My baby didn’t die.” Her throat tight, she didn’t try to fight the tears as they sprung from her eyes. “He’s alive.”

  The pain, the excruciating and grinding misery of knowing her child died because she was not proactive, had killed something in her. She just bumbled along pregnant, expecting her parents to look after her instead of looking after herself and her baby. She blamed herself for his death for fourteen years and thought she deserved to be punished as a genie. She’ was a fool after all.

  “You were young,” Lucian murmured as if reading her thoughts. “You should have had the support of your parents, not their condemnation.”

  He turned his heavily horned head and glared at them with his red eyes.

  Mrs. Maalouf whimpered. “I never forgave myself for what happened to you, Yasmina. Never. I raised your son as our own, because he was all I…all we…all we had left of you.”

  Jinx smiled sadly and dared a glance at her father. Even his eyes glittered with unspoken sorrow and an apology his pride wouldn’t allow him to impart. She saw and accepted it anyway.

  “Can I meet him?” Jinx sat up.

  Her mother conjured some tea and biscuits.

  The silence was heavy. Mrs. Maalouf looked tentatively at her husband. His expression was ruddy, angry, and grim, but he gave a very small, curt nod.

  Jinx heard Lucian exhale heavily.

  “Of course. Hakim, you may come in,” Mrs. Maalouf called to the closed door.

  There was an awkward shuffling as the tall, lanky boy entered the room. Jinx’s heart squeezed unbearably as he looked at her through large, dark eyes. She had never dreamed this moment could occur. Her amazement and shock caused an almost physical pain.

  She stared at the boy. His nose, so similar to hers, was set in a face as angular as his father’s. Memories flooded her. She remembered Hayden as a blonde, blue-eyed surfer. Where was he, now? Had he ever met Hakim?

  “Hi,” Jinx croaked.

  “Hi,” Hakim said. He rubbed a chin that was beginning to sprout an adolescent beard.

  “You’re my boy,” Jinx murmured. She sat up straighter and released Lucian’s hand, gesturing for Hakim to sit beside her. He stepped forward awkwardly as Mrs. Maalouf moved aside to allow him through. He sunk down onto the sofa beside Jinx. It squeaked under his light weight. He smelled like sun-warmed skin and cool, spicy deodorant and beneath that, a tiny whisper of magic.

  So, my son will be a magician, she mused. The thought suffused her with happy warmth.

  “What do you like to do? Hakim?” she asked. His name–the same name she chose when she was pregnant―rolled off her tongue like a melting, chocolate button.

  Hakim shuffled nervously. Jinx fought the urge to stroke back a loose lock of his hair. They were strangers. She reminded herself that such contact would be too confronting.

  “They told me you were dead,” he said softly, but the accusation poisoned his words. He furrowed his slightly bushy eyebrows.

  “Don’t be angry at them…I was dead,” Jinx murmured. Her heart sank even further. “I am dead.”

  Would fate be so cruel to reunite me with my son and take me away, again? she wondered horribly. Yes. Her gut twisted.

  “Why did Granpa curse you?” Hakim whispered. He nervously hovered his hand beside hers, and in a gesture that surprised both of them, Jinx gripped it. His hand was warm and slightly sweaty, but she loved it. How she loved the touch of it. My son. She smiled at him sadly.

  “Your grandpa didn’t have a choice,” Jinx murmured, trying to assuage the painful tug and familiar threatening sense of loss.

  “What was the curse?” he asked, curiosity lending a firmer edge to his adolescent voice.

  “I’m a genie.” Jinx watched him carefully for a reaction.

  Understanding flashed through his deep eyes, and pain quickly followed. He realized what it meant. “You’re going to have to go, aren’t you?” His voice was soft.

  “Yes.” Jinx nodded carefully, refusing to let tears come.

  “Can’t Grandpa break the curse if he was the one who cast it?” Hakim asked. There was a note of pleading in his voice.

&nb
sp; “I was dying,” Jinx said. She looked at her father. “Despite everything I’d done, despite the shame and turmoil I’d brought to the family, he didn’t let me die.” She sighed. “If my father were to break the curse, I’d die anyway.”

  Hakim furrowed his brow, again. “Why did you come back, then?” he cried, jerking his hand away from her. “Why come back if you’ve just got to leave, again? Why? It was better when I thought you were dead.” Crystal tears streamed down Hakim’s face, but his gaze was defiant. Jinx understood his anger. If she had known he was here, maybe she wouldn’t have come. She now realized just what her father was trying to protect him from.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you existed. My last memories were of a blue baby. I thought you died during birth. I would have never come just to leave you, again. Believe me.” Jinx sobbed softly.

  Hakim swiveled his head from Jinx to Farid and back, again. “I can’t take this,” he cried, burrowing his head in hands. “This is so fucked up!”

  Farid growled under his breath and stepped up toward his grandson. Mrs. Maalouf wrung her hands and looked on dejectedly. Farid tried to rest a big hand on Hakim’s head, but the boy angrily shook him off.

  “Don’t touch me,” Hakim snarled and stood up. “I’m leaving. I can’t deal with this.” He stood and turned his back on them.

  “Hakim!” Jinx called softly. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

  “I don’t care. Go away. I never want to see you or your demon, again!”

  Jinx closed her eyes. She felt Lucian’s heavy, solid presence nearby. After a quick moment, she opened her eyes and stared at Hakim’s back as he stalked to the door. His young shoulders were tight and high beneath his white shirt. Her heart felt as if it was going to break, again.

  Something green fluttered through the air and collided with the loose fabric of Hakim’s shirt. It hung there for a second.

  Jinx frowned as her brain caught up with her eyes.

  A horribly familiar grasshopper swiveled its head around, raised its angry red eyes, and glared at her as it crawledl up the back of Hakim’s shirt.

  “The pelesit,” Jinx cried out and lurched to her feet. “Hakim, stop!”

  Lucian jumped into action, but Farid intercepted him the moment he saw him move.

  There was a scuffle. The scent of her father’s magic was suddenly strong.

  “Hakim, on your back,” Jinx screamed, struggling to get through the protective shield of her father’s magic.

  Hakim turned his head angrily. “Leave me alone,” he cried. As he turned his head, it afforded the pelesit a lovely selection of exposed neck.

  “Hakim! No, on your shoulder. Look,” Jinx cried louder. “There’s a pelesit.”

  Hakim scowled and was about to retort when the pelesit raised its evil eyes. It looked directly at Jinx and extended its pointed proboscis toward Hakim’s unprotected flesh.

  Mrs. Maalouf’s eyes widened as she let out a high-pitched shriek.

  “What?” Hakim growled, but it was too late. The pelesit sunk its proboscis deep with a satisfied glare.

  “No,” Jinx wailed, ignoring Lucian and her father’s scuffle. She stared at her son.

  “Agh,” Hakim cried and put his hand to his neck. “What the hell?”

  The pelesit darted away. It fluttered to the top of the doorjamb and sat there, surveying the room with an air of evil satisfaction.

  Jinx slumped back while Lucian extricated himself from her father’s restraining magic with sheer, brute force. He sank down beside her and wrapped her in his big, beefy arms.

  “He’s got my son as well,” she groaned.

  “What is that?” Hakim cried, still clutching his slightly bloodied neck.

  “That is―” Jinx began but didn’t get to finish.

  “My pelesit.” The oily tone of the bomoh echoed throughout the room.

  Jinx felt her guts turn to acid. “Oh, my God,” she groaned. Could this get any worse? As she raised her head, she saw Hakim standing frozen, captured tightly in the fat arms of the bomoh.

  The bomoh’s toad-like mouth stretched wide in greeting. “Nice to see you again, Jinx,” he murmured. He kneaded the flesh of Hakim’s upper arms with his sausage-like hand. “You really shouldn’t have upset my pelesit, you know. She can be quite…vindictive.”

  As if to demonstrate the fact, the pelesit fluttered down on Hakim’s shoulder again with proboscis extended.

  “Stop,” Jinx cried and struggled out of Lucian’s arms to try and defend her son. Her parents were paralyzed. As mere magicians, they were more susceptible to the bomoh’s evil magic. It was then the bomoh took note of Lucian’s appearance.

  “My, my, Lucian. Your extreme makeover is not an improvement. I wonder what your Pater Rex will think?”

  “It doesssn’t matter what he thinksss.” A sibilant voice echoed around the room. “It’sss what I think that mattersss!”

  Jinx looked around the room.

  Who the hell was that? she wondered, taking a quick glance at Lucian. His reddened skin paled a fraction, and his whole body froze.

  There was a crack of magic as a leather-skinned chupacabra appeared, its clawed feet clicking on the tiles as it sniffed around. Jinx jumped back away from its sulphurous stench and sharp spines. Crack. Another appeared and another. Four of the beasts were soon sniffing around the room curiously, like dogs after a rotten bone.

  Lucian maneuvered his impressive bulk in front of Jinx and her stunned parents, kicking a chupacabra in the head as it dared come close. The offended creature stepped back revealing horridly pointed teeth. It narrowed its eyes and released a low, threatening growl. There were no Hellcats to protect them, now.

  “Looo-shan,” the sibilant voice said, “what have you done to yourssself?”

  There was one more almighty crack. Two of the chupacabras scurried out of the way with a yelp as the gnome appeared, followed by the most enormous naga Jinx had ever seen.

  It was then she knew things were about to get a lot worse.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Maalouf’s living room was quite a spacious one but filled with chupacabras, a gnome, and an enormous naga. The claustrophobia was as suffocating as it was stinky.

  The sulphurous stench of chupacabras mingled with the metallic tang of the naga. Lucian felt Jinx recoil beside him.

  He reached a steadying hand and pressed firmly on her shoulder. Her gaze was riveted to her son.

  “Devika?” Lucian croaked and blinked in amazement. She had changed–changed dramatically. Magic hung around her like a cloak. She bristled with it. “How?”

  “It ssseemssss the little trick your Nephilim played on me had a few more ssside effectsss than just my husband’sss nervous tic.” She laughed.

  The Pater Rex contorted his face.

  “What do you want?” Lucian growled. He ran a nervous hand over his pulsing horns. “Our time isn’t up, yet.”

  “I want you.” Devika smiled. “The hornsss are a rather deliciousss addition. I sssee no point in waiting. Do you, Missster Bomoh?”

  The bomoh was too interested in kneading Hakim’s arms to answer. “So soft…” he murmured as he slimed his tongue across his lips.

  Jinx, her father, and her mother jerked forward. Lucian spread his arms before them to prevent any trouble.

  “How dare you,” Farid snarled. “Let me help my grandson.”

  Lucian spun his head around to face the angry man. “Can’t you see what a precarious position we are all in?” he hissed. “Don’t make this worse.”

  Farid frowned. With a quick glance, Lucian saw Jinx, who paled even more as she worried at her lip restlessly.

  “What do you want me for?” Lucian turned back to Devika and held her serpentine gaze.

  “Why I want you…of c
ourssse,” she hissed suggestively.

  “I will not sleep with you, Devika,” Lucian snarled. The chupacabras parted as she slithered closer.

  Devika let out a peal of laughter. “Did you hear that, my dear?” She laughed, tossing her russet hair behind her shoulders as she did. Hazarding a weary glance at the Pater Rex, Lucian noted he wasn’t amused.

  “He doesssn’t want to sssleep with me. For ssshame!” She sashayed closer. Her pungent, metallic stench nearly floored him. “No, Lucian. I do not want to sssleep with you. I am a naga. Do you think my anatomy could comfortably accommodate one asss large asss you?” She hissed a chuckle and opened her mouth wide. “No, no. There are reasssons I married a gnome.”

  Lucian glanced at the Pater Rex, who turned red beneath his beard.

  “I want you for sssomething very ssspecial.”

  She reached out a bejeweled hand and stroked Lucian’s reddened visage.

  “Don’t you touch him,” Jinx growled. She glared over at the bomoh. “That includes you, too.”

  The bomoh merely winked a piggy eye at her, while Devika dropped her hand and raised a plucked eyebrow.

  Jinx conjured a smoky shield to protect Lucian from Devika’s touch, but as she tried to do the same for Hakim her shield shattered. She gave a frustrated growl. “If you want me, bomoh, you’ve got me, but let Hakim go.”

  “Hakim, you say?” The bomoh smiled. “I think I like him. Perhaps I like him more than I like you.” Lucian felt Jinx’s body tighten beside him. Her eyes widened, as the bomoh oozed his pink tongue out of his mouth and ran it along the edge of Hakim’s ear. Hakim let out a strangled sob.

  This inflamed Jinx’s father even more. He tried lamely to struggle out of whatever spell held him immobile. It wasn’t very effectual. Though Farid’s face grew red and sweat beaded on his brow, he couldn’t seem to get toward his grandson. He roared in frustration.

  “What have you brought to our home, Yasmina?” he snarled, hatred dripping from every syllable.

  * * * *