Becoming Jinn (33 page)

She's farther down, no longer blocked by the lilac bush I moved. She must have found something else to stand on. I say tentatively, “Why does she do that?”

My mother speaks slowly. “She can't help it. It's not her fault. It's … it's mine.”

Mrs. Seyfreth's vacant eyes float in our direction.

“Your fault?” I fall back against the counter. “But how?” I know the answer. She just told me the answer. I don't want to hear it. But I have to hear it.

My mother pulls the shade over the window and returns to her chair.

“But why didn't you tell me? I'm sure it was a mistake.”

“Mistake after mistake after mistake.” Her eyes fixate on her lap. “I was careless, and she saw something she shouldn't have. It was all so horrible, but I was desperate. And arrogant. I thought I could fix it. I'd never used a spell to make someone forget something so huge, but I thought I could do it.”

This is why she didn't want to try the spell on Henry.
Thank Janna she didn't try the spell on Henry.
“So … so you're the reason she's … the way she is?”

She raises her eyes to meet mine. “Yes, and no. She'd already been showing signs. Her senility or whatever poor thing she's suffering from was already there. What I did just accelerated it. The worst part is, I could tell. When I was doing the spell, I could tell I'd erased her memory, but I went a little further, just to be sure.”

I place my hand on hers. “You were protecting yourself. And me. I'm sorry about Mrs. Seyfreth, but if the alternative was the Afrit taking you—”

“Don't say that, Azra. We can't use our powers to hurt people, no matter the cost.”

Though she says this, I can tell from the way she's looking at me, she'd do whatever she had to in order to protect me. “Why isn't all this in the cantamen?”

“It is and it isn't.”

“The blank pages,” I say, remembering the section I found in the middle that was completely empty.

“Hidden by a spell. The spell's in the cantamen. I may as well reverse it now so you can learn the whole sordid history of how this came to be our Jinn world. I'm sorry. I know I should have told you. I was just trying to protect you. I wanted you to be able to be a Jinn without all this—”

“Hatred?”

“Fear, was what I was going to say.” My mother forces a smile. “You know, if you didn't look so much like me, sometimes I'd swear you were Samara's daughter.”

“But I don't understand. Why do we let them get away with it? Why don't we—”

“Fight? You and Sam really are peas in a pod.” My mother waves her hand. “Look around, who's here to fight?”

“That's why the male Jinn have to live with them?”

“And your grandmothers and everyone else who's not a practicing Jinn, a retired mother raising a daughter, or the daughter being raised. Keeping our community separate, preventing us from living in clusters, ensuring our numbers here remain on the low side, it's all a way of preventing an uprising.”

“But we're here. Us mothers and daughters. We have powers. We could take them on.”

“No. The Afrit have powers beyond ours. And Janna is so well-shielded now that we can't get in without them apporting us in. The same way every Jinn there can't get out. We wouldn't stand a chance.”

“But some want to try, like Samara?” The harsh words exchanged between my mother and Samara on the night of my birthday about taking risks now make sense.

My mother sighs. “Yes, like Samara. Like Raina.”

My head jerks back. “And the Afrit found out? So they took her?” I was right. What happened to Raina isn't Yasmin's fault. “She's … gone?
Gone,
gone?”

Tears fall down my mother's cheeks. “See, Azra, talk is one thing, but the consequences are real. Even Sam knows that. We've all lost so much. We can't risk losing what we have left. I know I won't. I won't put you at risk.”

And neither will I.

I surround my mother's cold hand with both of mine. I won't risk losing her. I won't risk having Henry's brain fried. Or worse.

So that's it. I'll be granting Nate his wish. I'll be granting every assigned candidate their wish—and I'll be granting them perfectly. I'll follow in my mother's footsteps and be a model Jinn. I … I won't form attachments with humans. I won't form
any more
attachments with humans. And maybe, probably, I should, I will, I might undo the ones I have. Because the alternative … because there is no alternative.

Exactly as the Afrit planned.

 

32

I'm in my room trying to reapply my makeup, but my hands are shaking too much. My mother is insisting, despite everything she's just told me, or maybe because of everything she's just told me, that I go on my date.

Can I still call it a date if it's also research for my new assignment? Can a Jinn mix business with pleasure? Not if she can't draw a straight line under her eyelashes, she can't.

Setting down the eye pencil, I attempt to apply a thin layer of blush to my pale cheeks. Stress has drained all the blood from my face.

Not that I'm normally a fan of being kept in the dark, but the way my insides are knotted up, I understand my mother keeping the truth about the Afrit a secret. I'm afraid to breathe wearing this bronze bangle, I can't imagine using magic.

But not only do I have to use magic, I have to use magic to grant Nate a wish. One wrong move in doing so, and that's it. I'll lose what, I haven't realized until now, I love and need most in this world: my mother. What's worse is if I grant Nate his wish and botch it, I also risk losing what, I haven't realized until now, I'm beginning to love and need almost as much: Laila and Samara and Hana and all the rest … even Yasmin? Yes, even Yasmin. And maybe even Nate.

And, of course, Henry. Because of what I've done, Henry will always be in jeopardy. Henry, who defies categorization. It's as if we've become so intertwined, I cease to exist without him. How can I ever summon enough courage to break my attachment to him?

I've spent so much time concentrating on the family I didn't have because of being Jinn, I never suspected the family I do have could be taken away. My mother, Samara, Laila, Nate, Henry, I can't put any of them at risk. I have to be the perfect Jinn.

Well, hello pressure, nice to meet you.

I smudge the eyeliner under my lashes, hoping to make my imperfect application look purposeful. This second round of makeup will certainly benefit from the shadowy light of a fire. After sweeping my cosmetics into the drawer, I move to my desk where my cantamen sits, calling to me. As tempted as I am to flip through and find a way out of granting Nate a wish, I know it's no use.

Funny, despite everything, I still hate being told what to do. Maybe it's a Jinn trait, like craving sweets and warmth, because certainly control's the only thing the Afrit seem to care about.

Every mandate put in place by the Afrit serves one goal: to keep them in power. To keep them in power, they must be feared. To be feared, there must be consequences for rebelling against them and their rules. The way they use our love for one another as a weapon to keep us in line and maintain control sickens me. But I'll admit they've got a good thing going. It works.

In response to the gentle knock on my bedroom door, I say, “
Entrez
.” Henry would be proud of my French pronunciation.

My mother bears the gift of sugar in her hand. “Figured you could use a little pick-me-up.”

I pop one then two nonpareils into my mouth. As she conjures me two more, I think maybe I can go through with this date after all. And I should. Who knows? If I do manage to cut my ties with humans, it might very well be my last one.

“Nervous?” my mother asks.

My quivering voice is at odds with my sarcastic reply. “Not really. What with the fate of everyone I know hanging in the balance, worrying about whether Nate will kiss me is no longer on my radar. Unexpected bonus, right?”

My mother smiles. “I see your flair for the dramatic is intact. But, really, nothing's changed.”

I cock my head. “
Everything's
changed.”

She gently touches my bronze bangle before taking my hand. “I know. Which is why I didn't want to tell you all this. I wanted to protect you. And maybe let you enjoy it, or try to anyway. But of course, Samara was right. You're not like the others. Hana, Mina, Farrah, they don't need to know what the Afrit are capable of. They'll never question anything. But you, you my dear, control is in your blood.”

“Maybe that's a good thing,” I say. “Because now that I know, I can be in control. Total control.” Suddenly I pull her into an embrace. “I promise, I'll be careful. I won't … I won't let them hurt you.”

She tightens her grip, and surely we are both thinking of Yasmin and Lalla Raina.

The sound of a car idling draws me to my window. I'm expecting to see Nate, who, since it's a date, conceded to use petrol instead of pedal power, but instead I see Henry. He's closing his front door and walking toward a car I don't recognize. The back door opens, and Chelsea's head pops out.

“Don't worry,” my mother says, “Nate seems like your average boy. What do teenage boys want? Cars? Bigger biceps?”

Henry disappears into the backseat.

“Girls,” I say. “Teenage boys want teenage girls.”

The question is, where does that leave teenage Jinn?

*   *   *

At the moment, it leaves this teenage Jinn with a clammy hand wrapped around a warm beer can. I take a tiny sip and wince as the liquid hits my tongue. Though my taste for beer has yet to be acquired since the last time I tried it with Henry, the beverage selection at the bonfire is sorely lacking. But with Nate on one side of me and Henry and Chelsea across from me, I'm desperate to blend in. So this aluminum-flavored skunk urine will have to do.

A small group of us have distanced ourselves from the rest of the staff, specifically from the rest of the staff who would not condone underage drinking. Our own mini bonfire burns inside a ring of rocks Nate and his two lifeguard buddies dragged from down the beach.

Though I'm supposed to be paying close attention to Nate considering he's, one, my date, and two, the candidate I need to be doing due diligence on, I can't help but watch Henry.

The sheer number of in-jokes proves this is not the first time Henry's hung out with the members of our little offshoot here. Between his relaxed posture, his untucked oxford with the rolled-up sleeves, his contact lenses, and his spiffy hair—
Is that gel?
—he's not the tousle-haired Henry who gave me a balloon at the start of the summer. He's not the boy whose family is on the verge of bankruptcy. He's not the boy defined by losing his little sister.

Transitioning into this new crowd, he can be whoever he wants to be. His secrets are safe with me. As mine are with him.

Our eyes meet.

I'm sorry, Azra.

This is running through Henry's head, and even though I suddenly hear it in my own, I don't need to. Even in the dim light of the fire, his face says it all. Since he can't read my mind, I hope the same can be said of the look on my own face. We're going to be just fine.

I love you, Azra.

Oh, no. Oh, damn. This thought of Henry's I don't want to hear. And it too is written all over his face. I'm now panicked by what's scrawled across my own.

Henry's eyes shift away from mine and land on Chelsea, who shimmies closer to the fire to warm her hands over the flames. I lean into Nate just as Henry puts an arm around Chelsea's shoulder.

Chelsea's eyes are shut tight. Her thoughts fly at me.

How did I get so lucky? The nice guys never want me.

“That's it,” I say too loudly, not wanting to dive deeper into Chelsea's inner world. I don't want to find out she's actually the saint Henry's making her out to be. I can't. I've learned enough for one night.

I'm not sure how I'm reading everyone's minds, but I need to stop. I step back from the fire and fan myself. “Whew. Fire. Hot.”

Apparently I'm now a caveman.

“I mean, it's a bit warm, isn't it?” I say, happy to have managed a full sentence. “I think I could use a break.”

Henry's eyes dart in my direction. He knows me well enough to know I'm lying. He just doesn't know why.

“Excellent idea,” Nate says. He picks up the backpack he set on the ground earlier and knocks off the sand before slinging it over one shoulder.

I hear Henry's mind contemplate coming with us, and I hear Chelsea's mind wanting Henry to walk somewhere alone with her, and I break into an uncharacteristic run. Henry must really know something's up.

Since running is very much in character for Nate, he catches up to me quickly.

“I know the private jokes can be a bit much,” Nate says, “but those guys are okay once you get to know them. Henry can tell you that. We should hang out with them all more. You'll see.”

“Yeah,” I say, “I'd like that.”

And I would like it. I just don't think it's a very good idea to extend my circle of human friends. It's as bad an idea as not ending my friendships—relationships, whatever “ships” I have—with Nate and Henry. I know I should. But I just can't. At least not yet. I will if I have to. But not yet. Fortunately and unfortunately, I've got many, many horrific stages to get through before I'd get there.

We walk in step with one another, doing a lateral dance with the incoming tide to keep our feet out of the water.

“Not that I'm complaining,” Nate says. “I've been wishing we could be alone together since we got here.”

Nate is unaware of how careful he needs to be using the “w” word. Still, if he's going to be wishing for anything, I don't mind it having something to do with me. Here we are, on a date, with me doing research without even having to try.