“Yes.”
“Oh.” Doren leaned his head down, and our foreheads nearly touched. I saw the intensity in his lavender eyes. “They were real. Moving drugs, pushing money, but history has them painted as intelligent people who infiltrated different areas of the world. Do you really think humans are clever enough to do that on their own?”
I raised my eyebrow. “Actually, yes. I think you underestimate us.”
He cleared his throat. “Okay, well they didn’t do it all. They remained undetected for so long because they had djinn to help. I spent some time digging through your history book today while you were in the class.
“I wondered what you were doing.”
“The year they started to fall apart was the time I managed to hide myself.”
I leaned back and folded my arms. “I can believe a lot from you, but this?”
“It doesn’t matter whether you believe it or not. It’s the truth.”
“Your disappearance brought down the mafia? I don’t think so.”
Doren stared at me in silence.
I matched his gaze.
“Hm.” He sat back. “What purpose is there in lying to you?”
“You live forever. Why wouldn’t you make things up to spice up your life and impress your . . . master?” I hated the word.
“But why would I lie to you?” He turned his eyes to me without moving any other part of his body.
I realized I’d hurt his feelings. He didn’t have any reason to trust me. I was just his temporary owner until I died of old age or something, but at the same time, I couldn’t believe his story.
“All right, fine. How about I wish for ten thousand dollars?” I pulled the number out of a hat. I just wanted to do something so he wasn’t silently angry at me.
That brought a smile to Doren’s face. “I’ll meet you back at your apartment.”
“Wait!” I called. “How do you know where I live?”
He pointed toward my hip. “My painting. I’m sort of attached, remember?”
I tried to tell him not to disappear right then, but he snapped his fingers before I could stop him. Like my first wish, he burst into a cloud of colorful smoke and vanished.
I heard others on the bus mutter, and slowly everyone turned to stare as word got around a boy had just disappeared into thin air. I turned my attention fully to the window to watch the streetlamps, parked cars, and old buildings lazily go by. Rows of shops, apothecaries, and buildings with magical wares blurred by until we turned down Griffin Boulevard and the ancient shops transitioned into towering business buildings.
My stomach growled as I stepped off the bus in front of my apartment, a thirty-minute bus ride from campus. As always, the little stray beagle dog greeted me like he had every day for the past year. He trotted at my side, tail wagging, and I wondered why he liked me. The kid on the main level surely would have loved to have a dog or maybe someone down the street.
Why did he like me?
I reached my door, and Seymour plopped on his rump and gazed up at me with his ears back and brown eyes sadder than ever. He had a stain on the left side of his white nose from a goopy eye, and I found myself stuck at the door, key in the lock, looking down at the pathetic and absolutely adorable little beagle dog.
I sighed and pushed the door open. “Go on.”
The dog looked at the door, then up at me, his tail wagging in hesitant bursts.
“Go before I change my mind!”
He scampered inside and looked around, ears perked.
I habitually locked the door behind me, dropped my backpack down on the couch, and walked to the refrigerator to stare at the ingredients inside. I had some raw meat that needed to be used that day or frozen.
“I think I might have everything to make homemade meatballs . . .” I mumbled out loud.
I shut the door, snagged the recipe book from its spot beside the fridge, and flipped to the stained page. After a quick check, I did indeed have enough of everything to make homemade spaghetti sauce and meatballs.
At the back of my mind, I wondered about Doren but decided cooking dinner would help prevent me from being too distracted. I didn’t understand how he made wishes come true. I mean, why wasn’t it instantaneous? What did he have to do, find the money?
“Should we turn on some music?” I asked, looking over at the dog.
He’d curled up on the rug in the living room beside the coffee table, just where we could keep an eye on each other. His chin rested on his paws, and he gave no indication he didn’t want to listen to anything, so I turned on the kitchen speaker, connected my phone, and started blaring The Blue Sirens.
I bobbed my head in beat with the music while I scooped some minced garlic from a jar in the fridge, cracked some eggs, dumped in some breadcrumbs, and added the rest of the herbs and spices into the large mixing bowl. Last, the meat. A quick wash of the hands and I was ready to mix it all together.
I’d just dug my fingers into the mess when Doren showed up out of nowhere and said, “You call this music?”
I jumped. “Shit! You could warn a girl!” I yelled, examining the countertop to see if I’d spilled anything.
“I apologize.” Doren bowed and disappeared.
I heard a knock on my door and rolled my eyes. “Too late now! Get in here!”
He reappeared across the counter from me again. “What are you doing?”
“Cooking?” I held up my filthy meat-covered hands.
“Huh.”
I glanced at him. “Have you never seen someone cook?”
“Mmm . . . it’s been a very long time,” he replied.
I turned and started setting the meatballs into the already hot pan on the stove. “I admit I like to do easy meals, but since you’re going to be eating with me now, I needed something good.”
“And Seymour, I see,” Doren said.
I looked over my shoulder. “Who?” I asked.
“Your dog. His name is Seymour.” Doren looked at me like it was an obvious answer.
“He’s not mine,” I said. “Whoa, wait. You’re trying to tell me you can talk to him?”
“Yes. You can’t?” Doren sat on the couch, and the little brown, black, and white dog stood up to growl at him.
“He never does that,” I pointed out. “I don’t think he likes you.”
“He told me that. He thinks I’m going to hurt you. He told me he is your protector and he takes you to the bus and back again every day, and I should watch out.” Doren turned his face toward me.
He was completely serious.
Seymour stopped growling.
“I’m not here to hurt her. I make her wishes come true,” Doren said. “He’s ill, you know. I believe he’s got a cold.”
I shook my head. “I can’t believe you can talk to dogs.”
“And why not?” he countered.
I put the last of the meatballs on and set the empty bowl in the sink. While I washed my hands and the bowl, I watched Doren. “How sick is he?”
“He will need lots of water and a warm place to sleep . . .” Doren paused. “Or you could wish him healed.”
I felt my lips tighten. “Why do I feel like you’re always trying to make me wish something?”
“Because it’s what I do.”
“Do you not know how to just sit and have a normal conversation?” I dried my hands on the towel, then turned and added the pasta noodles to the boiling water.
Doren hadn’t answered.
I sighed and walked out of the kitchen. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that to sound rude.”
He shook his head. “You’re right. The last fifty or so years, I’ve only had a few conversations with other djinn in the djinn realm, nothing I would consider being in depth.” He looked away from Seymour. “My masters never cared for conversation. I’ve never been summoned for this long of a time. I suppose I’m just trying to figure out what to do. My life exists only to serve you.”
> “I hate that you talk like that.” I leaned against the counter.
“Why?”
“I don’t like how it sounds.”
“Then wish me free.”
I studied him silently. “What would happen if I did that?” I asked.
Doren shrugged. “No one has ever done it, so I don’t know.”
I stormed back to push the meatballs around the pan, and to get away from the awkwardness of the situation even though running to the stove was hardly a sufficient distance from the conversation. “I wish you to make Seymour better,” I said, glancing over my shoulder. “No reason not to help him if I can.”
Doren nodded and put his hand on Seymour’s side. It glowed blue and Seymour nuzzled him. “Collin told me your family died when you were young. That must have been very difficult for you.”
“And not something I like to talk about,” I emphasized.
“He said that too.”
Anger started to tremble into my body until it made my hands physically shake. “I need to make something very clear. I don’t care about people, okay?”
“Because you think no one cares about you,” Doren added.
“You think you know me?” I practically growled, too close to the edge of pure anger.
“No,” he replied flatly. “I’ve had enough masters that I understand when people are similar.”
“What do you mean when you say I’m your master?” I threw the spatula down.
Doren’s lavender eyes studied me, my reaction. “It means exactly what it sounds like. You give me a command, and I am obligated to fulfill your wishes, whatever they are. It’s simple.”
“Nothing is that simple!” I spat. “Nothing in life is simple.” I don’t know why he got under my skin, but the thought he already knew about the darkest part of my life irked me. Collin probably told him at lunch, and it wasn’t his place to say anything to Doren!
I rolled the meatballs over one at a time, the silence between us growing.
I slammed the spatula down again and spun to face Doren. “You want to know what happened? It was a car accident. My mom, dad, and little brother all died. I walked away with a broken arm. Happy?”
Doren eyed me.
Seymour trotted around the counter and sat by my feet.
“What about you?” I snapped. “Have you ever watched your family die? Held onto your brother’s hand until the light left his eyes while screaming for help? Lying and telling him everything will be all right when you can see that he’s dying?” I wiped at the angry tears spilling down my cheeks.
“I don’t remember my family,” Doren answered softly.
I was grateful I could busy myself with getting the pasta off the stove and draining it into the colander in the sink. I turned my back to him and started on the sauce.
“Would you like me to go away?” Doren asked, voice calm.
I bit my lip.
I heard him get off the couch and start walking.
“I didn’t intend to upset you. I just wanted to understand you a little better.” His voice was close, and I could feel him behind me.
“Why?” I asked. I faced him. “Why do you even care?”
“Because you are different.” He stopped a cautious distance away but still close enough I could smack him on the head with the wooden spoon in my hand if I needed. “But I won’t ask you questions if you don’t want me to. I’ll just be quiet from now on. If that will make you happier. I really don’t want to upset you.”
I shook my head. “No.” I licked my lips. “I’m the one that should be sorry. I don’t . . . I can’t even imagine what a horrible existence your life is. I’m upset because my family died, but I’m healing as time goes on. Some days are better than others. I bet Collin told you I hate being alone too?”
Doren shook his head. “And I don’t think he meant to betray your trust by telling me. I could sense your loneliness and pressed him for answers.”
“Will you tell me how you ended up a djinn?” I asked. “You at least owe me that.”
“Someday,” he answered, nodding. “It’s as painful for me as the death of your family is for you.”
“How is that?”
“Being a djinn is a prison sentence, remember?”
Seymour barked, drawing our attention to him.
“He said your meatballs are going to burn,” Doren translated.
I got three plates out, scooped the pasta onto the plates, set the meatballs on top, and poured the sauce over Doren’s and mine, leaving Seymour’s food vacant of red sauce.
“For me?” Doren asked when I extended his plate.
“Yes. What else will you eat?”
He accepted it. “I can’t remember the last time I tasted food.”
“Then how do you stay alive?” I asked.
“Djinn don’t eat food for energy.” He took another bite.
“Then how do you get it?”
Doren shrugged. “We’re magical creatures. We don’t need to sustain our lives with mortal food.”
It didn’t really make sense, and he had that look in his eyes that he was lying, but I wasn’t in the mood to argue. “Do you want a beer or anything?”
“Sure.”
I set Seymour’s plate on the floor and was shocked to watch him wait patiently, tail wagging, while I retrieved drinks for Doren and myself. When I sat down, I smiled at him and nodded. Only then did he dig in.
“Oh, your money is right there.” Doren pointed to the bag leaning against the wall.
I took a breath. Ten thousand dollars. All mine. “Thanks. How did you get it?”
He tapped the side of his nose. “My secret.”
I watched as Doren took his first bite, and to my surprise, he made a noise. “What?”
“I can taste it!” He grinned like a child on Christmas morning.
“And?”
“It’s amazing!”
I realized I was blushing and turned my face away. “You’re welcome.”
Doren’s presence helped me feel safer. Over the next several days, I summoned him in the morning and let him decide if he wanted to join me at work or classes, and almost always he stayed with me. At night, I had him return back to his realm because I didn’t have a space for him to sleep, and if I was being honest, I really didn’t know him. Even then, he made me feel less uptight.
He had started growing on me, I guess. His awe at little things, like the technology the kids played with outside as we walked past, and he insisted on watching the sunset before he left for the night.
Not to mention there was the whole moral dilemma of me not wanting to be like his other masters. It was wrong to keep him locked up. At the back of my mind was the one thought I refused to think of: one wish could set him free. Maybe it was because I was afraid. Maybe I was selfish. But I thought the wishes would dry up and I would never get to see Doren again.
The boy with ancient eyes.
Chapter 8
Doren
I took my usual position at Gwen’s side. She’d found the last remaining seat on the bus, and I’d insisted she sit. She’s the one who had been standing and working hard all day at the Drunken Dwarf Tavern while I chatted or daydreamed.
She’d been generous enough to summon me every morning for the past few days, and I was getting used to seeing color again. Returning to my realm while she rested went by fast.
I watched Gwen from the corner of my eye.
She’d worn a skirt cut just above the knee, and when she folded her legs, the skirt rose even higher. I was still struggling to separate her from the woman I’d known all those years ago, and it ate at my core.
When she was Zenja, she would do things like this with a sly smile and little wink, knowing she was teasing me, knowing I couldn’t do anything about it at the moment.
“Something bugging you?”
I blinked away the vision of Zenja smirking at me and looked down at Gwen. �
�I’m fine. I was just . . .” I shook my head and returned my gaze forward. “Remembering something.”
Gwen seemed to understand me enough to understand I didn’t want to talk about it, at least not in front of a busload of eavesdroppers. She’d likely ask me when we stopped at her place and were finally alone.
Gwen stretched, groaning as she reached her arms overhead. “I think it might be nice to have a proper meal tonight. I don’t suppose you want to try your hand at cooking?”
The bus slowed to a stop.
I lifted my left eyebrow. “Why would I cook? You can simply wish it done.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” She smiled, her white teeth shining at me, her green eyes sparkling. “Have you never cooked a meal?”
I stepped closer to her, more than aware my waist was at eye level for her. I admit I may have leaned intentionally, but at the same time, I really needed to move out of the way for someone getting off at that stop.
Gwen cleared her throat softly as I returned to my original position. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and I noticed her neck had a pink hue to it.
“Back to our conversation,” I finally said. “No, I haven’t cooked in ages.”
“You never did explain to me how you djinn eat?” She raised her dark eyebrows at me.
I hesitated. We’d only been together a couple of days now, but I definitely felt closer to her than I’d ever felt with any previous master. That being said, she was also likely the reincarnation of Zenja, which impacted our relationship too. I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell her I was sucking her life force away with every wish she made.
“It’s a bit complicated,” I finally answered.
“You know, you are very good at avoiding my questions.” Gwen set her feet on the ground and reached across the woman beside her to pull the cord for the bus to stop.
I hadn’t realized we were already at her apartment. “What do you have in mind to eat?”
“Do you remember anything you used to eat?” She shouldered her backpack.
I stepped back and motioned for her to go first, which she did, and I followed. “I think I remember this flat bread.” I made a movement with my hand as if that would help.
Gwen glanced over her shoulder at me. “Shawarma? We can totally make that. Or Koshari. It’s been a really long time since I’ve made that.”
Curse of a Djinn Page 5