Jinn and Juice (18 page)

“Well this is new,” I said, my voice oddly conversational, still kneeling, as I watched my Fire dance around me. Oz was staring, a hand pressed against the small wound at his neck. Charlie, meanwhile, dropped his impromptu weapon and raised both his hands in supplication.

“Honey, put out your Fire,” he said. “Your Master is safe. You hear me? Oz is safe.”

My eyes flicked between my Master and my friend, the jinni in me registering his words. She backed down, taking my Fire with her as she did so.

Leaving me to crumple forward onto my face, every nerve in my body on fire.

Charlie and Oz were at my side a second later. Charlie went to lift me but Oz stopped him, tracing a hand down my spine and ribs. I cried out, thumping my fist against the concrete floor of our bar.

“Lyla,” said my Master. “Talk to me. What hurts?”

I sobbed incoherently, tears streaming down my face. It wasn’t my back—that hurt, but my jinni had taken care of most of the real damage in her effort to get to Oz.

“Magic,” I managed to say, my voice cracking. “Too much…”

“She’s blasted out her channels,” Charlie said, grimly. “I’ve never seen her use that much power. She must like you, boyo.”

I groaned and Oz ignored Charlie’s comment. “What can I do?” he asked me.

Whimpering, I tried to move my eerily still legs. There was nothing he could do. I’d never done this before; I had no cure. The only magic I could access to heal myself was the same poison that had abraded me raw.

Oz, crouching next to me, lowered himself to the concrete. He stretched his long length next to me, wrapping a strong arm around my waist, cuddling me close.

“I need you, Lyla,” he said. “I need your help. I can’t do this without you. I command you to feel better. Do you hear me? I command you to heal yourself, because I can’t do this without you…” He pulled me even closer, his breath hot against my ear. “Damn it, you fucking jinni. You did this to her. You can help her get out of it, or I swear to God I will send you so far Sideways you’ll only have that bastard Kouros to play with…”

And like that, I felt my jinni uncurl inside me, and I felt her dark Fire cloak me, but this time in a soft wave of healing that soothed the fire of my magical channels. Then the comfort ended and the pain swelled, causing me to choke, as she reached for the Node… but then that power turned comforting again, clean and soft, like magical Neosporin smeared on my wounds.

I hiccupped once, twice, little shaky half-sobs, as I took deep breaths, pushing out the memory of that agony with each exhalation.

Finally I was able to crack open an eye, blurry with tears. Oz’s bleary face was inches from mine, his Magi eyes glowing disconcertingly but his face expressing only concern.

He reached down and fumbled with something in his pocket, then I felt a soft cloth mop at the sticky mess of sweat, tears, and snot that was my face.

“You carry a handkerchief,” I said, stupidly, as he mopped. “That’s old-fashioned.”

He continued swabbing gently. “Mm-hmm. But I’m wishing I carried two. You’ve got a two-handkerchief face happening at the moment.”

I sniffed, trying to pull some of the snot up and away from his mopping. My finger rose, trembling like a pocket rocket, to touch the bloody nick that now marred his lovely anchor.

“You got hurt,” I said. My jinni flared, unhappy with this fact, and I blamed her for the fear I still felt, like an oozing sore in my stomach, remembering the sight of that vampire hurtling through the air toward his throat.

“Not as hurt as you,” he said. “You’re going to give me a heart attack if you don’t stop.”

“Saving your life?” I said, feeling my snark muscles reengage in self-defense.

“Risking
your
life,” he clarified. The hand he pressed to my cheek was empty of handkerchief, just his roughly calloused palm lying against my damp skin. “What did you do that for? I thought the vampire killed you with that kick. Then I thought you killed yourself with that magical stunt…”

“It was my jinni,” I said, lowering my eyes from his gaze and rolling onto my back. “It’s what a jinni does, for her Master. I had no control over it.”

I blinked at the ceiling, happy to see Charlie’s concerned face looming above me. “Are you two through?”

He took the hand I raised, pulling me up into a sitting position. I swayed like a drunken sailor, refusing to look at Oz.

“Who the fuck attacked us?” I asked. “They were vamps…”

Immediately my thoughts turned to Aki, and his attackers. But, as if reading my thoughts, Charlie spoke again.

“Full vamps, with tattoos. They’re Blood Sect soldiers.”

“Motherfucker,” I groaned, wishing I could lie back down, but instead reaching for Charlie again. He pulled me to my feet, helping me to a chair. Oz stayed on the floor, watching me with inscrutable silver eyes.

“Why the hell would the Blood Sect attack us? We’ve never had any beef with them. What did you do, Charlie?”

Charlie gave me a sharp look as he stood and went to the bar. He grabbed a bottle of Balvenie and three highball glasses before returning to the table at which he’d sat me. Oz moved another chair to sit next to me, accepting a glass from Charlie but not looking at me.

“I didn’t
do
anything. I came in early today, to check some inventory. I heard a sound from the stage and I came out to find those three heading toward the dressing rooms, bold as could be. They were surprised to see me. I asked if I could help them, and they just attacked. The storage room is a wreck,” he said, indicating the double swinging doors out of which he’d been flung when we entered.

I drained my glass and then poured myself another.

“Great. We’ll have to contact Lorenzo. Is he still head of the Sect?”

“Yeah. And he owes me. He’ll tell me what those three were up to.”

“If he’s not the one who sent ’em,” I added. Oz hadn’t spoken, but he was drinking—a second helping of whiskey slid down his throat.

“He’ll tell me if he was. Lorenzo likes you to know he wants to kill you; he likes the sport of your anticipation.”

I shuddered. “Fucking fangers. Okay, I need to freshen up. Then we can go check on the vamps.”

Standing, however, was a mistake. I swayed on my feet and felt Ozan’s hand on my elbow. As soon as I regained my sea
legs, I pulled my arm away, maybe a little too sharply. Again his eyes turned from me, fixing on the bottle as he poured himself another drink.

“Go,” he said, his voice rough. “Go get cleaned up.”

I gave him a mocking bow. “Yes, Master.”

He flinched but we both needed the reminder. His pretty talk about dinner and helping me and everything else had muddled the facts.

He was my Master, not my friend.

And nothing would change that, no amount of anchor tattoos or pretty eyes or calloused hands that were so paradoxically gentle.

He was my Master.

And that was that.

M
y dressing room was blessedly cool and even more blessedly empty. With a sigh I lowered myself down onto my chaise, curling up into a ball.

I still ached everywhere, although I’d take this ache over my previous agony anytime. But it wasn’t physical bruising that had me so upset; it was my emotional imbalance.

What the hell was that back there?
I mused. I’d never used so much power for anything or anyone, ever. And that didn’t make any sense.

I tried to logic it out. Oz was a powerful Magi. Maybe it was
his
strength that had made me pull so deep.

But that was bullshit. Oz was strong, but not anywhere near as powerful as some of my previous Masters.

So maybe it was Pittsburgh’s juice? That could be it… the power had a mind of its own sometimes. Maybe opening myself up like that had allowed it free rein…

But that’s where the “blame Pittsburgh” logic broke down. Even if the magic had taken control, that didn’t explain how I’d opened myself so wide for it.

Or how I’d used it.

I sighed, shutting my eyes. The only other variable was Oz. I had been lying to him, and to myself, when I’d said my jinni had taken over entirely. Yeah, she had taken over. But she’d taken over many times throughout my life, and nothing like this had ever happened.

Because I’d been fighting her every other time, and this time I hadn’t.

I’d wanted her to take over. I’d wanted her to save Oz, in a way I’d never wanted my jinni to take care of any of my other Masters. Even the ones who’d been pretty okay—if they died I was free, and I’d always been fine with that.

I just haven’t been Bound in so long
, I told myself.
I’ve lost perspective
.

So I tried to remind myself. I was dealing with Magi—a race of humans taught that another species of being existed simply to serve them, whether they liked it or not. Magi had no problem yanking jinn away from their smoky lives Sideways, from their jinni families and friends. And powerful Magi tribes would keep a jinni forever if they could, passing down a Binding from parent to child. I’d met some jinn who’d forgotten freedom; others who’d gone mad—like caged tigers—from centuries of captivity.

It was only luck, and Charlie’s interference, that meant I wasn’t one of those jinn, rattling against my cage with vacant, fiery eyes.

And Oz was one of them, I reminded myself. He was a Magi…

I felt fat tears in my eyes again, felt them hot on my cheek as they rolled down toward my parted lips.

He is a Magi
, I repeated.

A Magi who flinched every time I called him Master. A Magi who never looked at me as if I were his toy. A Magi who
hadn’t tried any funny business with me. A Magi who kept asking me to fucking dinner.

I jumped to my feet and headed toward our small bathroom to wash my face. Bent over the sink, sudsing my salty cheeks, I heard the door to our dressing room open.

I lowered my head again to rinse off, bracing myself for anyone from Oz to Yulia to be standing behind me when I looked up, demanding answers to questions I didn’t want asked.

But when I raised my head, it wasn’t any of my friends standing there. It was the succubus, Diamond.

Reaching for a towel, I raised it to my face as I spoke. “Can I help you? You’re really not supposed to be backstage…”

“Shut the fuck up, you cunt,” Diamond said, her glamour-model features ruched in an ugly snarl.

I sighed, turning to face her. “Are we going to have to do this again, Diamond? Because I’m really not in the mood for a pissing con—”

Before I could articulate “test,” Diamond was nose-to-nose with me, her hand wrapped around my throat.

“What the hell?” I managed to squeak, before her hand tightened. I tried to call my Fire, but to my horror, nothing happened. It was like flicking the switch to a broken bulb… I kept flicking, and flicking, but my powers weren’t answering.

Diamond gave me an ugly grin. “I’ve been waiting for this. Ever since I came here you’ve thought you were better than me. But who’s better now, bitch? Who’s better now?” she repeated, squeezing my neck infinitesimally harder.

I wheezed, trying to shapeshift, trying anything to get away from her. I could feel the magic just at arm’s length, but it was like Diamond had a buffer around her that encased me as well, the field dampening my own depleted reserves.

I was beginning to see stars when I heard a soft tread behind
Diamond and heard something solid thump against her blonde head, along with the crack of thick glass breaking. Diamond’s eyes narrowed and she turned, her grip on my throat slackening even if she didn’t release me. Oz stood behind her, clutching the broken champagne bottle with which he’d beaned the succubus.

“That hurt, Magi,” she said. “When I’m done with your whore, I’m going to enjoy sucking you dry.”

“Her heart,” I wheezed, flicking my eyes between the bottle and Diamond’s large breasts.

Without missing a beat, Oz struck a vicious uppercut with all his boxer’s strength. Diamond’s blue eyes widened and her mouth formed a perfect little moue as she looked down at the champagne bottle wedged underneath her ribs.

“Oh, my,” she said, and then she died, sliding off the bottle to leave her heart, still shuddering faintly, wedged in the jagged circle of green glass.

Oz and I blinked at the horrific sight as I tried to get my breath back. “Lucky shot,” I said, when I could talk again. Then he dropped the half bottle containing Diamond’s heart to catch me as I toppled forward.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” I wheezed, as he carried me back to my chaise.

Rachel gingerly picked the heart up in her gloved hand, her lush red lips pursed in disapproval.

“I know we like some goth decor up here in Purgatory, but this is a step too far,” she said, awkwardly wedging Diamond’s heart back into her body. Then she looked at her lover. “Don’t you dare try to stuff this heart, Charlie. Or the succubus. We have enough clutter.”

I was still leaning against Oz, his arm draped around my shoulder. Charlie was watching us with raised brows, but I didn’t care. I was too tired to care about anything at that point.

And, to be honest, the heavy warmth of Oz’s arm felt good. That was another thing I was too tired to care about.

“I knew Diamond hated me, but I didn’t think she hated me that much,” I said, staring at the still-blonde-and-beautiful, if now very bloody, corpse.

“This wasn’t personal,” Charlie said. “Well, not entirely. Remember, Diamond’s now Blood Sect, too.”

“Like the vampires that attacked you?” Oz asked. He was starting to get a handle on our supernatural world.

“Yes,” said Charlie. “She either came with them or was their plan B.”

“But why would the Blood Sect come after you?” Rachel asked Charlie. “All we’ve ever done is sling some booze their way and show them our tatas.”

“They weren’t coming after Charlie,” I said, wearily. “They were coming after me, and Charlie got in the way.”

Charlie nodded. “It seems that way. The vamps from earlier were headed toward the dressing room, and Diamond was obviously after Lyla. Although why she thought she could suddenly take you is beyond me…”

Only then did I remember the weird paralysis of my powers that I’d felt earlier, fighting Diamond.

“Wait,” I said, before Rachel and Charlie could roll Diamond into the tarp they’d spread on the ground next to her.

I raised myself off the chaise slowly, painstakingly, feeling my thousand years in every joint, then plodded over to Diamond.

“She did something to me. I couldn’t use my powers. I’ve kicked her ass a dozen times for bringing humans to Purgatory, but this time my mojo refused to work.”

“Hmm,” Charlie said, staring down at the dead succubus. “And she’d never had that effect on you before?”

“Nope. Hence all the prior ass-kickings.”

Charlie crouched down next to the body, looking it over carefully. “There are a few creatures out there who can dampen another’s power, but a succubus isn’t one of them.”

“Juju can stop mojo,” Rachel said, from where she was mopping Diamond’s blood toward her body and away from Rachel’s shoe collection.

“Juju?” Oz asked, confused.

“She means a spell,” Charlie said. “Or a charm.”

“Like from a witch or a sorcerer?” I asked, thinking of the sorcerer we’d seen with Tamina. Oz shot me a dark look.

“Could be,” Rachel said. “But I’ve seen charms made by supernaturals, too. Any creature with enough power can spell an object, if they know how.”

“We’ll have to search her,” Charlie said, not making a move toward the body.

I swayed on my feet, catching the edge of my vanity, and Ozan rose to take my elbow.

“Goddammit,” Rachel said, eyeing the lot of us as Oz steered me back toward the chaise. “Just because a lady is already wearing rubber gloves doesn’t mean she has to search the corpse.”

But even she was powerless to resist Charlie’s eerily colorless version of puppy-dog eyes, either because she loved him that much or because his puppy-dog eyes were so fucking creepy.

She crouched awkwardly by the body, keeping her flowing skirts away from the blood. “I think we may have something,” she said, patting around Diamond’s breasts, avoiding the gaping hole underneath them.

“Um…,” said Oz, clearly wondering why Rachel had immediately begun feeling up the cadaver.

“No pockets,” I explained to him, suddenly realizing he’d tucked me against him again.

Rachel nodded. “She was her using her lady pockets. But luckily not her Lady Pocket.”

With deft fingers Rachel reached down into Diamond’s bra. She pulled out a bundle of sooty sticks wound around a charred bone and bound with something… either coarse hair or twine.

Wordlessly she passed it to Charlie, then she rolled Diamond onto the tarp, flicking the heavy material over to cover her.

“Hmmm,” Charlie said, studying the little bundle. He was using both his sight and his Sight, creating a little swirl of magic in the room.

“Sticks,” he said. “From a rowan tree? But one from Sideways, not a mortal rowan.”
That makes sense
, I thought. Rowan often serves in charms as a binding agent, and even Sideways rowan is easy enough to come by on This Side. It would also be more powerful, saturated as it was with magic.

He placed two fingers on the bone, staring down at it with concentration. “The bone of a grundle, taken in violence.”

“Grundle?” Oz queried.

“Not that kind of grundle,” I said. “This kind looks like a tribble and is equally useless. Its only defense is to cancel out magical power if attacked.”

“And this is its power source…,” Charlie said, feeling the long strands of thick hair and staring hard at it using his Sight. “The hair of a sidhe Lord, also taken in violence.”

I shivered. Charlie’d just described quite a powerful charm, binding a magic-canceling agent to a helluva battery.

Rachel made a face. “Not good,” she said. “You pissed off someone strong, Lyla. A charm can only be made with materials gathered by the maker. So whoever made that was strong
enough to take on a sidhe Lord, and live to rip out some of his hair.”

I blanched. “Who made it? The human sorcerer?”

“No, not a human,” Charlie said. “The signature’s supernatural. But I’ve never seen anything like this before…”

He raised the eerie bundle to his nose, sniffing deeply. The pink tip of his tongue reached out for a taste, touching the charred tips of the sticks and the bone.

“Not fire,” he said. “They
were
burned… but not with fire…”

Then his already pale skin went almost gray.

“Not fire,” he repeated. “Fire…”

I froze against Oz, feeling myself growing cold. “What?” I asked, my voice sharp.

“Fire,” Charlie said, looking up at me. “Jinni Fire…”

My hands were reaching without conscious thought, grabbing my phone from the little table next to the chaise. A few taps later and it was ringing. Lorenzo picked up on the sixth ring, his voice cold and inhuman as the rattle of a snake.

“So, I take it you survived,” said the leader of the Blood Sect. “Good.”

“What the fuck, Lorenzo,” I said, only barely keeping my voice in check. “Why did you send your people after us?”

I wanted to hope beyond hope that it was the truth; that the charm was something they’d had in stock, maybe stolen or won in battle.

“It was a job, babe. One that didn’t go through me, or I would have stopped it, obviously.”

As he would have killed his own mother for a fifty, he was equally obviously lying, but I appreciated the gesture.

“Sure you would have. So who hired your boys? And girl,” I amended, glancing at the wrapped-up form on my floor.

“I never reveal the names of my clients,” Lorenzo said. I took a deep breath to begin screaming at him but he continued before I had the chance.

“But they weren’t technically
my
clients, so I can tell you. We were contacted late yesterday by an emissary asking for someone they could hire. I punted the emissary to Sebastian. I take it he’s dead?”

“If he was one of the assholes who attacked us, then yes. They’re all dead. Including Diamond.”