The Monster Ball Year 2

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The Monster Ball Year 2 Page 6

by Heather Hildenbrand


  Why the hell was it always so dark in here?

  Dickhead came into view. He sat perched on the black leather sofa in front of me with a devious smile stretched across his face. His dark hair was slicked back like always, and there was a new chick at his side. He was a handsome devil; I had to give him that. Good-looking and smooth with the ladies. Everything I used to be before this.

  I missed my life.

  “Hello, Ryan,” Dickhead said, his tone low and rough. “I have another Charge for you.”

  Of course he did. Why else would I be here? It sure as shit wasn’t to party with him and his new girl. Every time he summoned me, it was because there was a new Charge he was sending me after because he was fucking hungry again.

  How much greed could one Sin Demon eat?

  I knew I wasn’t the only genie he had at his disposal. There was no telling how many of us he commanded, it wasn’t like we had Christmas parties and shit. My gaze drifted to the sexy chick with the long pink hair beside him. Was she a genie or just a plaything? Her black dress was tight in all the right places, and her strappy heels had my brow arching. Any woman who strapped spikes that big to her feet wasn’t someone to screw around with. An intricate tattoo of vines with some sort of flower twisted up one of her thighs, disappearing beneath the thin fabric of her dress. Places of me hardened that hadn’t in forever as I wondered where that vine led.

  It had been too long since I’d touched a woman.

  “Care for more information on your Charge, Ryan?” Dickhead asked, his question snapping me from my stupor. His smirk grew as I brought my eyes back to him. He nodded to the woman beside him. “Like what you see?”

  I swallowed hard, not knowing how he wanted me to answer. He wasn’t the nicest guy. I mean, he was a demon. They were known for being hostile and vile.

  The woman shifted, recrossing her long legs and drawing my attention to them. She flipped her pink hair over her shoulder and stuck her ample chest out further as her eyes raked over me.

  Something was off about her. She wasn’t like me; she wasn’t a genie. She was something else.

  When she licked her lips, and I noticed her tongue was forked, I knew I’d been right. I blinked. There was no doubt she was a demon. Who knew what kind, though? All I knew was that I needed to stop staring before I pissed Dickhead off or this chick decided to eat me. Literally.

  I forced my stare away from her and cleared my throat. “Who’s the new Charge?”

  “Hardy Norman.” He held a folder out to me. I grabbed it, knowing what would be inside—an image of the guy and a list of a few places I’d find him. “He should make for a tasty meal.”

  I opened the folder, ignoring his comment, and stared at the picture of my new Charge. At least I’d been right about it being a man this time.

  Hardy Norman was a bald guy who looked to be in his late forties. His nose was bulbous, and his eyes were puffy. The guy was hella overweight, but the smile on his face let me know he didn’t give a shit. He was happy. From his picture, it seemed as though there could be multiple reasons for his happiness—the cigar hanging from his mouth, the two fingers of scotch on the rocks in his hand, the stack of poker chips in front of him, or the busty redhead draped on his arm.

  Hell, possibly it was a combination of all four.

  “Money, gambling, it’s his thing. You know what to do,” Dickhead said, dismissing me.

  He grabbed the martini glass on the table in front of him, and my eyes landed on the gold pinky ring he always wore. Greed was spelled out in bold letters across its face. It was his specialty. He was the Sin Demon for Greed.

  I clutched the folder tight, knowing what would happen any second now. He’d send me back to my lamp.

  Black smoke rippled through the air. I closed my eyes, waiting for my stomach to dip with the off-kilter sensation of whatever the hell you called this way of traveling.

  Next thing I knew, I was home, tucked inside my lamp again. I tossed the folder on my coffee table and kicked off my shoes. My fingers fumbled to loosen my tie as I tried to relax. It was hard for me to unwind in a suit though. They’d never been my thing. I flopped down on my futon, picked up the folder, and opened it.

  I knew from one look why Dickhead had chosen him—he loved money, and when someone loved money the way he did, greed didn’t follow too far behind. The bastard was right, this poor guy would probably be one tasty meal for him.

  I flipped to the guy’s list of favorite places and ran my index finger down it.

  “Eenie, meenie, miney, moe,” I muttered as I propped my feet up on the coffee table. “Catch a tiger by the toe. If he hollers let him go. Eenie, meenie, miney, moe.” My finger landed on the Dragon Night Casino smack dab in the middle of Sin City.

  Of course it would be a damn casino, and of course it would be in Sin City. All of my Charges were always there. It was Dickhead’s domain.

  I straightened my tie and slipped my shoes back on. It was time to get this over with.

  When I was ready, I closed my eyes and thought of the Dragon Night Casino while keeping old Hardy in mind. In seconds, I was whisked away, lamp and all.

  Hmm… what would his first wish be? Unlimited money. If I was a betting man, I’d have placed a high bid on it because I knew his type.

  Chapter Two

  Fresh air filled my lungs as I pulled in a deep breath. While the air of Las Vegas wasn’t pleasant, per se, it was better than the stuffy, stale air inside my lamp. I glanced around, searching for my Charge. When I spotted him standing a foot away, eyes wide and mouth open, I stepped closer.

  We were on the sidewalk. People passed by without looking at either of us. This was common in the city. Everyone was drunk, high, or in a rush to get to a place where they could feel either for whatever price they were willing to pay.

  “Holy shit,” the big man said, his words dragging out with a southern twang. It was clear from his accent he wasn’t from here. If I had to guess, I’d say he might be from Texas or Alabama. Maybe even Georgia or one of the Carolinas. “My eyes screwin’ with me?” He made a show of rubbing his eyes. When I didn’t disappear, he laughed. It was a deep, rumbling laugh. The type that had a smirk twisting my lips because it was contagious.

  “My name is Ryan,” I said, eager to get this over with. “I’m here to grant you three wishes.”

  While I enjoyed being free from my lamp and out in the world, it was a false sense of freedom I knew would be detrimental to my mental health if I let this drag out too long. It was best to make my Charge ask his three wishes and then head back inside. And this first part, introducing myself, was always the longest bit to this whole damn thing.

  Once it had taken me three days to get a woman to believe what I was and what I could do for her. I thought I’d go insane being surrounded by all the things I missed about life—alcohol, burgers with fries, surfing, tacos, fishing, drugs, sex—while I’d followed her around trying to convince her of what I was.

  “This some joke, boy?” Hardy glanced around. I noticed how red his cheeks were and the beads of sweat that dotted his upper lip. “Where the hell did you come from?” He spun around. “Am I on one of them street magic TV shows? Where’s the camera?”

  “There is no camera. And, this isn’t a show. It’s real.” I’d lost count of how many times people thought I was a street magician. I’d also lost count of how many times I wished that were the case. “No trap door. No wires. No illusion. I am what I am—a genie. Your genie.”

  Hardy’s smirk grew. He wiped the sweat beading across his upper lip away and stared at me. “Can’t be. Genies don’t exist.”

  “Try me. Make a wish.” I folded my arms over my chest and held his stare. “What have you got to lose?”

  His eyes lit up. It happened every time. People loved the idea of what I said being true. He still had doubt—they always did—but I knew it wouldn’t be long before a wish passed from his lips.

  “Nah, you’re pullin’ my leg, boy.” He chuckled
, waving my words away. More sweat beaded across his upper lip. Did this guy always run hot? He was big. It was possible. However, it could be that it was nine o’clock at night and still in the mid-seventies. There was a thickness to the air that had the dress shirt beneath my suit jacket sticking to me. “You’ve got to be.”

  “Let’s head inside and find out,” I insisted as I nodded to the Dragon Night Casino.

  He didn’t move. He licked his lips and continued to stare. I could see the gears shifting behind his eyes. He was trying to figure me out, wondering what angle I was playing here. I snapped my fingers and forced my lamp to reappear. It sat on the sidewalk between us, shining in all of its golden glory. I wanted to hate it because of what it stood for, but it was impossible.

  It was too beautiful to be hated. Strange symbols were carved into it, creating an intricate design that drew the attention of whoever saw it. While I knew some of the symbols stood for my specific Sin Demon, the rest were meant to lure in humans to pick it up or touch it.

  “Okay,” Hardy said. He swallowed hard. “This is real?”

  “Yeah. It is. I’m here to grant you three wishes. What’s your first?”

  The big guy smiled, and I knew he finally believed me. What had I thought his first wish would be about? Oh, yeah. Money. It motivated this guy.

  “I can wish for anythin’?” he asked. “And you’ll give it to me?”

  I nodded and then snapped my fingers again so the lamp disappeared once more. “That’s how it works.”

  The grin on his face grew. He rubbed his meaty hands together as he picked his wish. “I want money. Lots of money.”

  Bingo. I’d had this guy pegged from the get-go. Where was my prize?

  “Phrase it into the form of a wish. I can’t grant it unless you say the words right,” I said. He tipped his head to the side, his smile fading, and confusion dimmed the excitement in his eyes. “Meaning, your wish needs to start with the words I wish before I can grant it.”

  He blinked. “Oh, right. Yeah, of course.” He chuckled at himself. “Sorry about that. I wish for a million dollars.” Each word was said louder than necessary and enunciated with too much force. You’d have thought I was hard of hearing, listening to him shout. It had me cracking a grin.

  “As you wish,” I said to seal the deal.

  “That’s it? How do I know you’re not yankin’ my chain?” His brows pinched together. “Where’s the money?”

  I coughed into my hands, hoping it hid my shit-eating grin and the chuckle that slipped past my lips. Was this guy for real? What did he think would happen? Hundreds would fall from the fucking sky and land at his feet?

  Hell no.

  “I suggest you find an ATM and check your balance,” I said, once I’d contained myself.

  Hardy adjusted his suit coat and straightened his back before moving toward the entrance of the casino. I followed. Not because I wanted to, but because I knew the second he saw the amount of money waiting for him to blow, it would be all the proof he needed to believe me, and his second wish would come shortly after.

  He made his way to the right of the entrance, knowing exactly where the row of ATMs were. Obviously, he was a regular here. When he approached an open one, I leaned against the machine and took in my surroundings while he punched around on the keypad.

  This place was huge. I’d been in here a million times, but its wow factor still got me every time. The floor was carpet, but it looked like something a royal would have in their mansion. Red, deep browns, and golds created a mosaic of shapes and lines. A huge circular light hung in the center of the open space. It looked low to me, but no one else seemed to mind. There were no windows, same as every other casino I’d been in, and low music filtered through the air. Girls dressed in short white dresses, carrying trays of drinks, were everywhere.

  My eyes followed one with dark hair as she strutted past us. Her legs were amazing.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Hardy said, drawing my attention back to him. He swung around to lock eyes with me. “You are a genie.”

  I flashed him a smile. “That I am. Care to make a second wish?”

  “Let me think on that one.” He shifted back to the machine and pushed a few buttons. “I’ve got loads of money to play with tonight!”

  The machine made a noise and then spit out a stack of twenties. Hardy waved it at me, his smile huge, and then made his way to the line forming at the cashier station. He was about to cash in on some chips and have a little fun.

  Awesome. I’d be here all night, waiting on him to come down from the high of gaining so much money at once and make his second wish. It would take at least two hours, maybe three, for this to happen. I called it shiny object syndrome.

  As the line to the cashier moved forward, I slipped away, heading back to the entrance. Once I was outside again, I stood on the busy sidewalk, inhaling the night air and listening to the hustle of the city. This place was always the same. While the faces passing by might change, the chaotic energy of Sin City always remained the same. It was something I’d loved about this city when I was still human.

  I’d come to Vegas frequently with my college buddies. We were loaded, arrogant, and ready to party. The city seemed chaotic to me then, too, but in a much different way. It fueled me then instead of draining me like now.

  Maybe I’d granted too many wishes. Maybe I’d grown up while being frozen at twenty-two, thanks to my gig as a genie. Whatever the reason, this city wasn’t as awesome as it used to be. Not to me.

  With a sigh, I made a right outside the entrance to the casino and started walking. I wouldn’t go far. Hell, I couldn’t. I wasn’t allowed to roam freely. I was always within a certain distance of my Charge when free of my lamp. Besides, the instant he thought about me, I’d feel that awful tugging sensation again and blink to be standing in front of him once more.

  I shoved my hands in my pockets as I strolled down the sidewalk, walking past drunken fools I envied and hookers who talked their game, trying to get me to stop and strike a deal. It was the suit. It called to them like a moth to a flame. Money, that’s what it represented to them. They probably didn’t even see my handsome face. My gaze drifted to the night sky as I ignored the next cluster of hookers. No stars. That was one of the many things I hated about this city, the lights were so bright you couldn’t see the damn stars. Not a single one. However, the moon was still visible, and tonight it was full. My feet faltered as I continued to stare. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d noticed a full moon.

  Were they always so luminous? Did they always look so low?

  I couldn’t pull my eyes away from it. There was something hypnotic about it, something that called to me. A beam of light streaming from it caught my attention. My brows pinched together as I continued to stare. Someone bumped into me from behind, jostling me just enough to pull my gaze from the moon. A girl had darted from the place behind me to the curb. She hunched over and puked the entire contents of her stomach onto the street. I shook my head and continued further down the sidewalk, some people just couldn’t hold their alcohol.

  When I knew I was about to hit my limit on how far I could go from Hardy, I leaned against the nearest building and closed my eyes, soaking in the sounds of the city and the feeling of space.

  The undeniable sensation someone was staring at me rippled across my skin. I opened my eyes to find the source. It was a brunette woman standing a few feet away. There were two others with her. They all showed so much skin they might as well be in their bathing suits and some heels. While I didn’t mind the sight, especially of the brunette, unfortunately lust was not the Sin Demon who ruled over me.

  Although, my life would be a hell of a lot more fun if that were the case…

  The brunette licked her lips and then took another drag from her cigarette. I allowed my eyes to trail over the length of her, soaking in every piece of skin visible because I knew that’s what she wanted. Hookers craved attention. Their bodies were how they mad
e money after all. Why not put it on display for all to see? At least you were seeing what you were buying.

  “Why don’t you come on over here and take a closer look?” She called out to me. Her voice was sweet, like honey. Areas of me that had been long since neglected by the feel of a woman sprang to life. “Come on, sugar.” She crooked her finger at me. “I can grant your every wish.”

  “Doubtful.” I laughed, before turning to head back to the casino and see if my Charge was ready to make his second wish yet.

  “Asshole!” She shouted after me.

  Her enthusiasm behind the word only made me smile wider. I’d been called worse by women before. There were many hearts I’d broken in my human days. Hell, even my mother had called me worse names than that when she was three glasses into her latest bottle of red and high as a kite off Xanax.

  Even though it was sad to think of it this way, I often thought of those days—even the ones with my mom—as the good old days. My gaze drifted back to the moon while I walked. A bright light strayed from it, grabbing hold of my attention and causing my feet to falter. Something looked as though it floated in the light beam. Whatever it was, it was small. A scrap of paper maybe? It drifted through the air, falling toward me. I held out my hand, and the silvery slip landed in my palm. Words were written across it.

  The Monster Ball

  My lips quirked into a smile. Monster Ball? What the hell was a monster ball? There was more writing on the back when I flipped the piece of paper over.

  Just as the moon has brought me to you,

  So shall the moon bring you to the ball.

  All Hallows Eve.

  The witching hour.

  Well, this was interesting. A Halloween party for monsters? Wait. Was it even close to Halloween? I’d never been able to keep up with the calendar year while inside my lamp. What was the point anyway? It wasn’t like I could take holidays off.

 

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