Jinn and Juice (7 page)

“What about hearts?” Oz asked, looking horrified.

“You don’t want to know,” I replied, truthfully. He gave me a long look but he took my answer at face value, for once.

“So, that was pretty amazing,” he said, as we walked back to my El Camino.

“Having a bugbear in the park?”

“The bugbear
was
amazing, actually. In a stinky way. But no, I meant your… changing like that.”

“We call it shifting,” I said primly, scratching my belly. The bugbear must have gotten in a swipe I hadn’t felt with all the adrenaline in my system. Wetness met my fingers and I knew I was bleeding. It was just a scratch, though, so I didn’t bother shifting to heal it, having burned through enough mojo as it was. Speaking of which… I took a shallow draught of Pittsburgh’s steel-corrupted power, careful to pull just a little this time. I’d woken up this morning with a queasy stomach and a bit of a headache as it was, having taken so much from the Node last night to change the wards. Tomorrow I was gonna feel like I’d gotten run over by Puny in his snake form.

“Can you shift into anything?”

“You mean like turn into a fly and spy on people?”

“What?” Oz asked, clearly amazed. “You can do that?”

I grinned, pushing through the humans on the sidewalk, feeling Loretta’s magic swirling around me as they stared at her small shape, fixated. “No. I can only change in my human form, and I’m limited to what I can sculpt in my head. Like I can’t look at a picture of Marilyn Monroe and become her. But I can make myself taller, or stronger, or fatter. I can make my limbs longer or shorter. That sort of stuff. I’ve gotten pretty good over the years.” Modesty had long ceased to be a strong suit of mine.

He cocked his head at me, skirting an elderly woman who didn’t notice he was trying to get around her. “How old are you?”

“I’ve been a jinni for nine hundred and ninety-nine years,” I said, mostly answering his question. I didn’t count my human years, not after the vastness of the curse.

He shook his head, marveling. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“And what do you look like normally?”

I waved my hand, Vanna White style, down my body. “What you see is what you get.”

“But you look human.”

I nodded. We were at the car. I realized I was hungry. I also needed pants and Oz needed his shirt back, so I reached into the little space behind my car seat and pulled out my emergency Romper Stash.

“Wanna get a hot dog?” I asked, hoping to change the subject. I bent over to pull up my old blue romper. Oz’s shirt was so big I could get the sleeveless garment pulled up over my boobs without giving him another show.

“Yes, I’m starving. But how can you look human? The
creature Tamina’s grandmother showed me was made of smoke and fire. You’re… fleshy.”

His eyes flicked to where I was bent over, undoubtedly exposing a little skin, and he blushed, pulling his eyes back up immediately like some kind of Boy Scout.

I unbuttoned his shirt and threw it to him, then grabbed a pair of flip-flops from my spare clothes bag. When he had his shirt back on, I locked up the car and indicated he should follow me down the street. “Sorry, buddy, that’s the one question I can’t answer.”

“Why not?”

I glared at him. “I can’t answer.”

“That makes no sense.” His mouth puckered, lines forming in his brow as he scrunched up his face. We walked past the little shops and restaurants that lined Braddock Street, till we hit D’s Dawgs.

Like a lot of the reviving Rust Belt towns straddling the Midwest, Pittsburgh was getting a lot better, especially food-wise. But it still did crappy food beautifully, taking things like hot dogs very seriously. After a fight like that, I was definitely getting something with French fries on top of it.

“My poor scientist Master,” I said as he opened the door of the restaurant for me. “You’re going to have to realize one thing really quickly or you’ll drive us both nuts.”

“What?” he asked.

I waited till a waitress had sat us down with menus and I’d ordered a Coke. Oz ordered a water, but he was looking at me, clearly waiting for my answer.

I waited till she walked away. “None of this makes any sense,” I explained patiently, leaning over the table toward him. “You’ve taken the red pill, Neo. You’ve followed the White Rabbit down its hole. You’ve made your choice.

“And nothing is going to make any sense for a while. At least, not until you relearn what
sense
means here, in your new world.”

My Master’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he absorbed what I’d said.

The waitress came to take our order. We sat in silence throughout the meal, his brow furrowed in thought.

Then I took him to formally meet my friends, who would hopefully convince him to release me.

That or try to kill him a few more times, as only the best friends would.

O
n cue, I had to stop two daggers and a wisp garrote from maiming Ozan as soon as my friends caught a glimpse of me wearing his shirt.

“We gave you a cantaloupe!” Rachel shrieked, much to Ozan’s bemusement. I shot her a dirty look, shaking my head to warn her from giving away my secrets.

“I had to shapeshift,” I said, holding up my hands palm-forward in a placating gesture. “I ruined my clothes.”

Charlie’s eyebrow rose. A consummate professional, I almost never ruined clothes anymore, except under dire circumstances.

“Bugbear,” I explained. His eyebrows rose farther.

“Where?” he asked.

“Frick Park. Right in Regent’s Square. The Exterminators on the scene were in over their heads and they Called. We answered. Oz here got a crash course in supernatural-human relations.” I pointed at my Master, who was wandering around Purgatory like he was at an art gallery. Or a zoo. Charlie and Yulia moved closer to me as Rachel kept an eye on Oz.

“A bugbear? In Regent’s Square?” asked Charlie, white eyes wide.

“Believe me, we were all surprised.”

“And it was on its own?” asked Yulia.

I nodded, shrugging as I did so to indicate I thought it was weird, too. There was always someone stupid enough to bring something like a bugbear Sideways, but such morons were incredibly rare and they usually at least
tried
to control whatever they brought.

“Whoever Called it probably got eaten.” Yulia’s fatalism never waned.

Charlie’s brow furrowed. “Well, I’ll check with Sid. The bugbear had to come from Sideways, so he may know who brought it over.”

“Let me know what he says.” Sid, Bertha’s uncle, lived under a Bridge that went directly Sideways, the usual portal used by anyone trying to Call something as big as a bugbear.

“Will do,” said Charlie, his gaze turning inward as he stroked his pointed Puck chin.

“How is he?” Yulia asked, sidling closer as she pointed to my new Master.

I knew she didn’t mean how he was coping, but how he was behaving. “He’s easy. Hasn’t tried any funny business. But I was right, he
really
doesn’t understand our relationship.” What I meant was that he didn’t know how much he could make me do, but she could translate.

“Good.” Her always-grim Slavic voice was extra grim. She knew as well as I that Oz’s wonderful ignorance wouldn’t last.

Ozan was standing in front of our intricate Victorian bar, long since stained black. Red accents were lacquered into its intricately worked surface. The back-bar was from the same old-fashioned set, but it had been embellished by Charlie’s favorite pastime… taxidermy.

Crows wearing top hats brandished tiny canes, while squirrels
in tuxes played eternal hands of poker. A deer’s open mouth also functioned as a bottle opener, and a set of rhesus monkeys held liquor bottles upside down, serving as the creepiest rack and pour system ever seen.

There was a ton of other taxidermy around the place, all blending with the overall theme of Purgatory, which was “early gothic circus from hell.” A giant red-and-black striped circus tent hung from the ceiling and down the walls of the whole club, allowing Charlie to decorate with other examples of his work, such as a sloth wearing a sequined leotard and hanging from a trapeze.

Besides all the stuffed stuff, Purgatory was mostly dominated by the sort of stage normally found in a strip joint, with a runway that led to another circular platform in the center of the room. There we could set up a mic, or a portable pole, or a jinni-size glass lamp for bathing in champagne, depending on the act.

“This place is… interesting,” Ozan said, staring with trepidation at the looming figure of a polar bear wearing a tutu and a monocle.

Charlie gave him a chilly grin, made chillier by his pale stare. “Thank you. I do the animals myself. Now, why don’t you tell us about yourself?” He indicated the barstools and we all took a seat, Charlie taking his place behind the bar to serve.

“Well,” Ozan said, warily eyeing the people who kept trying to kill him. “Like I told Lyla, I’m a cultural anthropologist. I was part of a research team working for the government on a study of violence against displaced people.”

Rachel rolled her eyes, white against her dark skin. Today she was wearing a black caftan done all in sequins, her wig a sleek golden bob and her makeup smoky and shimmering.

“Boring,” she yawned. “Lyla told us this bit.”

Luckily Ozan didn’t bother to wonder when I’d told them, but I shot Rach another warning look.

“Oh, okay,” he said. “So what do you want to know?”

“Where are you from, boy?” Rachel said, leaning forward. “Who are your people?”

“I grew up all over,” Ozan said. “My dad was in the service. But as an adult I’ve mostly lived in Chicago. That’s where I went to school…”

I sat back, sipping an old-fashioned Charlie had made for me. He listened as Ozan shared with my friends the same story he’d told me last night about his background and how he’d learned of his Magi inheritance. Charlie also mixed Yulia’s and Rachel’s favorite drinks, pointedly ignoring Ozan till I gave him a look. With a sigh Charlie pulled out a can of PBR and placed it in front of my new Master, not even bothering to open it. Then he poured himself a generous dram of whiskey.

“So you want to find this girl?” Yulia asked.

Ozan nodded. “Her people were family to me. And she’s just turned seventeen.”

Charlie and I exchanged looks. He’d been ten when priests had plucked him from his parents to be entered by the gods. I’d been fourteen, and engaged to be married, when I’d made my devil’s bargain and wound up a jinni.

Seventeen was practically ancient for bad shit to happen to you, in our books.

“Tell us what happened,” Charlie said to Oz, who did. The story was identical to the one he’d told me, and he pulled out Tamina’s picture as he’d done before. My friends passed it around, studying it, and it was his turn to watch them.

“Can I ask something?” he asked, as Charlie passed the photo to Rachel, who gave a soft
tsk
at the sight of the girl.

“Of course,” said Charlie, although Yulia looked distinctly less benevolent.

“What are you all? I mean… you all look human. Like that woman we just met… Loretta? But Lyla said she was a siren, so I’m assuming you all are something…”

I blinked at Oz. Loretta had looked hot but she had also definitely looked like a siren—complete with gills and nictitating membranes. And Yulia’s wisps were quivering around her like giant irritated ferrets, so I really couldn’t understand why he thought she looked human…

Then it clicked. For one of us, at least. “Ask her to make you See, son,” Rachel said, quietly. I groaned. Duh.

“But I thought Magi
can
See?” he said, brow furrowing.

“You can See jinn,” I said. We’d discussed whether Oz could See, but I’d forgotten. Now I had my answer. “So while you’re not entirely blind—your Magi blood gives you enough Sight to See through light glamours, like we have on Purgatory—you were raised totally human so you don’t have
full
Sight.”

“I could See the bugbear,” he said.

I sighed. “Yeah, bugbears don’t really bother trying to glamour themselves. They’re dumb. And they eat everything.”

“Just ask her to make you See,” Yulia growled at Oz, cutting his constant questioning short with her usual impatience. She wasn’t a big fan of humans at the best of times, and especially not of humans who Bound her bestie.

“Um, can you make me See?”

“Yes,” I said. “But you have to tell me to do it, not ask if I can. I need big magic for this.”

Nonplussed, Ozan rephrased his question as a command. “Make me See,” he said.

I passed a small hand over his face, pulling on the Deep Magic. He blinked once… twice… we waited…

“What the fuck?” he yelled, jumping up from his bar seat. He stared around the room in horror, his eyes flicking around as if unsure where to settle. He yelped when they moved to Yulia, his eyes wide.

Then they sparked. Like, for real.

“Shit!” I shouted, lunging for him, but I was too late.

Ozan hit the ground hard, passed out cold.

Yulia sauntered over to him, nudging him with her booted foot and grinning up at us. “I do have that effect on men.”

After raising her glass at the prostrate form before her, she drained it in one gulp.

I felt like we were reenacting the final scene in
The Wizard of Oz
, with all her friends surrounding Dorothy while she says, “And you were there, and you were there, and you were there…”

Only none of us were Oz’s friends and he hadn’t woken up from a nightmare.

He was living it.

“Will he be okay?” Rachel asked, as Oz started to stir.

“Who gives a shit?” Yulia said. “Hopefully he dies.”

“Shush,” said Rachel. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, she does,” Charlie said. “And she’s right. He Bound Lyla, and with only a week left of her curse.”

“And he doesn’t even know what that means.” Rachel rounded on the rest of us crowded into my dressing room, where we’d carried Ozan after he collapsed, a victim of what we affectionately knew as over-Sight. Suddenly gifted with true Sight of the world that existed Sideways from theirs, most
humans had a little trouble accommodating their new vision and their little brains shorted out. “He’s just doing what he thinks he has to, to save a
child
. And y’all have been so busy trying to kill him you haven’t even told him what he really
has
done. I bet if he knew…”

“Knew what?” Oz croaked from the head of my chaise longue. He opened his eyes and sat up, only to take one look at Yulia and collapse back onto the chaise.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, eyes tightly shut.

Rachel took his hand, her dark skin very dark against his normally pale flesh, which had gone almost albino with shock.

“Lyla gave you the Sight,” she said. “Until now you’ve been seeing our natural glamours. But now you’re Seeing everyone as they really are.”

He cracked open one eye. “You look the same,” he said to the drag queen.

“I’m human,” she said. “A psychic, but human. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” he asked. I could tell he was focusing on Rachel while he got his bearings.

“Psychics are usually humans with a little fey in their background. I probably have a fairy grandfather, or something.”

“Oh.” Ozan accepted this tidbit of information, opening both eyes and shifting them slowly to Yulia.

“What are you?”

I knew that Yulia no longer looked like the tall, androgynous blonde he’d first met. He was Seeing her in her true form, that of a wisp. Just as long and slender, but with a bright, enticing glow, the lines of her body faded so that she appeared made of light.

As he grew used to her, she’d glow less brightly, as she did for us. He’d see Yulia within the light. But until he adjusted, she’d blind him.

“I’m a will o’ the wisp,” she said. “I lead men into the swamps and drown them, feeding off their vital energy to fuel my magic.”

His pale face managed to whiten further. “Do you really?”

She grinned at him, showing off her long, thin fangs. “Not so much anymore. But I’d make an exception for you.”

I kicked her in the shin, and his eyes shifted to me.

“You look the same, too,” he said. “Like a human, but with black fire for hair and eyes that glow red sometimes.”

I nodded. “You Saw me from the beginning. That’s your gift, as a Magi: the power to See jinn as they truly are.”

“But the other jinn are made of fire and smoke. Why do you look different?”

Unable to speak of my curse, I looked helplessly at Charlie.

“That’s what you need to know,” said my oldest friend. “Lyla wasn’t born jinni.”

Oz looked at me. “What? How?”

Unable even to acknowledge my curse in front of my Master, I sat, mute.

“She can’t talk about it,” Rachel explained. “Well, not to you. Not to her Master.”

“You’re part of her curse,” Yulia growled, flashing him those fangs again. He gulped.

“How can I be part of her curse?” Oz said. “I just met her and she said she’s been alive for nine hundred and ninety-nine years…”

“She’s been a
jinni
for nine hundred and ninety-nine years,” Charlie explained. “Before that she was human.”

“Human?” Oz’s eyes met mine, his gaze racing over me as if trying to strip me of the Fire surrounding me at all times.

“Yes. That’s why her natural shape isn’t pure Fire, as were the born jinn shown to you by Tamina’s tribe. You See her as she is, a human being cursed to be a jinni.”

“Cursed? How was she cursed?”

I hated this. Hated having my story told by another. Hated the curse that bound my tongue as thoroughly as it bound my body. This was my story—the agony I’d lived through. It should be mine to tell.

Charlie took my hand, sensing my consternation. “Lyla was born to a wealthy merchant family, at around the time the Mongol hordes were making a nuisance of themselves. Her father, wanting to keep his business interests safe, promised her in marriage to a famously brutal Mongol warlord. She was fourteen.”