The Accidental Genie (14 page)

Nina’s chin rose, and when she lifted her dark sunglasses to peer intensely at Jeannie, one beautiful eye squinted at her with definite skepticism.

Jeannie felt exposed—naked—but she kept her gaze even with Nina’s. All good liars looked you right in the eye.

Nina put an arm around her and led her out of the alleyway just as snow began to fall. “Let’s go the fuck home, shawty.” She looked over her shoulder at Wanda. “You got a handle on Chicken Little there?”

Jeannie rushed to Sloan’s defense, though she kept her eyes on the ground, following the cracks in the pavement. “It’s not his fault. This guy came out of nowhere and clobbered him. I guess werewolves aren’t immune to being knocked out cold, huh?”

“You go ahead and get Jeannie to the car, Nina—I’m right behind you with her Siamese twin. Don’t get too far ahead of us for Jeannie’s sake!” Wanda yelled her warning into the bitter cold, putting her head down to stave off the wind.

Nina clamped her arm around Jeannie tight, pulling her close to her strong, lean body. “So before we get in the car, and before I chew you a new one in front of Wanda and everyone else—wanna fucking tell me why you’re on a first-name basis with your mugger?”

Jeannie fought the instant urge to stiffen. Keeping the KISS rule in mind, she easily replied, “He told me his name.”

“Oh, yeah? How fucking friendly. It’s always good to know the name of the dude who caves in your face. Is that some kind of new goddamn mugger etiquette?”

And now turn the question into a question, Jeannie. You’re so good at it
. It had become like a game to her over the years as she’d practiced her cover story. “How did you
hear
me say his name to begin with? You weren’t anywhere in sight just two seconds before he slugged me.”

Stopping in front of Marty’s SUV, Nina rested the heel of her hand on the doorframe and glared down at her. She used the other to point to her ears. “Vampire. Good hearing. Real good hearing. Fast, too. I’ve also been known to kick some serious ass. It’s good your mugger
Victor
ran the fuck off like the pussy he is. I’d have eaten his man marbles one by one and picked the leftovers out of my teeth with his bones. It’s messy.”

Shit. If she’d heard Victor’s name, what else had Nina heard? Her stomach churned, but she kept her breathing steady. Ignoring the reference to Victor, Jeannie did the next thing on the list of things to do when you were trying to convince someone you weren’t a liar. She killed Nina with kindness. “Awww, you’d do that for
me
? You’re more awesome than I know what to do with.”

But Nina wasn’t going to be sugarcoated with Jeannie’s charm. “Yeah, I’m awesome and you’re full of shit. I don’t know why you’re lying. I don’t know that I care right now. But if it puts a single one of us in danger—I promise to bury that push-up bra with your battered body. That work, cupcake?”

“Aye-aye, Meanest Woman Alive,” she agreed jovially, saluting her. “Or how do you feel about MWA? It’s easier on the tongue, don’t you think? And upon my burial, can we nix the harem pants? They show every ounce of cellulite I have.”

Nina pointed to the door of the SUV just as Wanda huffed up the sidewalk, Sloan still unconscious. “In.
Now
.”

Jeannie began to climb into the warmth of the car when just a few feet away, a man erupted from a small shop, catching her attention. He made such a ruckus, she couldn’t help but gape. His sky blue cap with a red brim that read Burger Mania was in his hand, and his sparsely hair-covered head was shiny with the freshly falling snow.

He threw up his middle finger in the direction of the ornately decorated window, his face the color of Lollipop’s lips. Clearly, he wanted someone to see his ire. “You know what?” he bellowed, clenching his fists and trembling. “Fuck all of you!
Allll of you!
” he screeched, his pudgy face distorted as he bent at the waist and stuck his forearm just under his knee. Turning, his backside to the store’s window, he flipped the horrified onlookers his middle finger again.

A crowd of the employees from the store, wearing identical hats, had begun to file out, each of them wide-eyed as the man screamed one last time.

“That’s right! You heard me, you bunch of stuck-up, truffle-fry-loving assholes! I wish you’d all just go to hell! Hell! Hell! Hell!”

The pavement beneath Jeannie’s trembled. Just a smidge.

Oh, no.
No. No. No.

Right before Jeannie’s very eyes—every last employee disappeared in a puff of lavender smoke.

Oh, my. When bad wishes happen to good people.

There was a moment of silence before the disgruntled employee backed away, tripping and stumbling until he broke into a run, his apron flapping in the breeze, the scent of his fear redolent in Jeannie’s nose.

Wanda took one last unaffected glance at the empty sidewalk before she hurled Sloan in the backseat with a ragged sigh. Like she’d seen it all before, and this was just one more mundane item to add to her list of strange.

Nina leaned forward on the doorframe of the SUV. Pressing her cheek against it, she shook her head. “Batgirl?”

Wanda cupped her chin in thoughtful pause, then looked to Nina. “Joker?”

“That was wish number
four
. Get on the fucking bat phone and tell Casey and Darnell we have a 911.”

CHAPTER

7

“Hell,” Jeannie repeated, then held her breath when she anticipated the sting that would surely follow the cleaning of her wound.

Nina held her head while Sloan dabbed at the side of her eye with antiseptic. “Did
Victor
bust your fucking eardrum, too? I’d be surprised, you know, ’cus he was such a considerate mugger—all wanting to fucking make friends with you and shit. Hey.” She nudged Jeannie with a finger. “Maybe you guys could do a secret Santa? You know, seein’ as you’re all personable.”

Nina just wouldn’t stop insinuating Jeannie knew Victor. The entire car ride back, Nina had made less-than-subtle references to him.

Sloan’s jaw hardened while his fingers ran over her face with gentle strokes. “Damn it, Jeannie. I’m sorry, but I can promise you this: I’ll kill that sonofabitch if I ever get my hands on him. Never saw him coming—didn’t even single out the puke’s thieving smell as anything more than just another human’s scent, for Christ’s sake.”

Jeannie reached out and patted his bulky arm, then put her hand back in her lap. Not because it was unpleasant to touch Sloan. On the contrary. It was divinity times a million.

Rather, it was due to the fact that she was still uncomfortable with gestures of reassurance, which could lead to a reciprocation she wasn’t sure she could handle receiving. “It’s okay, werewolf. You were too engrossed in hot babes and the defense of your lost love thereof. Worry not. It’s just a black eye. They heal, I hear.” She knew they did. Firsthand.

Nina’s face hardened, giving her cheekbones a sharp definition beneath the low lighting in Jeannie’s pink and gray bathroom. “Damn you, Sloan. What the fuck is wrong with you? Jeannie’s a live case right now, which means we don’t know what kind of assholes could be out there trying to find her. Because there’s always an asshole. Always. You know, like every other case we’ve had where there’s some skeery, dangerous dude lookin’ to take a bitch out? You have to be aware and not only watch your back, but look the fuck out for the client, too—
always
, plastic boob chaser.”

Sloan’s breath, minty and fresh, wafted over her face. His eyes shot Nina a disinterested glance. “Forgive me, Gumshoe Nina. I’m new to this. It’s kind of my initiation case. It never occurred to me there’d be anything skeery or otherwise looking for Jeannie. So just call me novice. I still don’t have my private eye decoder ring yet, remember?”

Jeannie held up a hand between the two of them. Their rising anger, coupled with their antagonistic relationship, made her a little edgy after so much chaos. “First. No arguing on my behalf, okay? I’m fine. It was just a knock in the head. Now, I promise, Meanest Woman Alive, Sloan will be on his toes the next time we venture out. Second, could we get back to the hell thing? Could you explain what that means?”

Nina clucked her tongue. “It means this, I Dream Of: In a fit of rage, that crazy Burger Mania motherfucker wished all those people would go to hell.
You
provided the transportation. Casey and Darnell took care of it, and it’s peachy-keen now. Though I hear during the getting-them-out phase, there was a lot of screaming and crying—bucket loads of snot, too. Don’t worry. I made sure they didn’t remember a thing. They’re all back at that deli as if it never happened, and so is the perp who made the wish, and before you ask, yeah, I can toy with your mind. Make you forget—erase shit. But we have a bigger problem than that, kiddo.”

Nina’s expression made her cringe. They needed another problem like she needed another genie push-up bra. And Nina could mess with your head in more than just the way of intimidation?

Oh, Jesus and all twelve.

Sloan finished putting antibiotic cream on her stinging eye, one she could barely see out of, with a critical assessment and the purse of his lips. He was so gentle, his hands warming her chilled skin with the tenderness of them. You’d never know he liked women named Lollipop and Candy Bar who had fake boobs and made the bulk of their income in single-dollar bills.

Not that that was a bad thing, she reminded herself—but everyone made it sound so sleazy that she had to chastise herself for even considering throwing stones. Especially coming from where she came from. “The bigger problem being me.”

“You’re granting random wishes, Jeannie. Do you know how many people in a day must use the phrase,
I wish
? In jest alone there must be millions,” Sloan said, brushing her bangs from her forehead and smiling at her. The crinkle on either side of his eyes was kind, making Jeannie lean back and away from her perch on the toilet seat.

When Sloan was this close, it made her dizzy and left her stomach feeling like a bottomless pit of butterflies. The sensation was unfamiliar and that meant, in her narrow world anyway, it shouldn’t be explored.

Nina washed her hands in the sink and wiped them on a towel. “Not to mention, that was the fourth fucking wish you granted. What if we’ve used all that shit up? Where does that leave Marty?”

Sloan’s sweater stretched across his pecs when he spread his arms wide. “Well, maybe, it isn’t how you phrase the wish, then. The guy straight up wished everyone to hell, right?”

“Yeah, and you’d know that if you weren’t passed out like some sissy-la-la in the backseat of Marty’s fancy Sherman tank.” Nina flashed her fangs at a smugly amused Sloan.

Jeannie put a hand on Nina’s arm and squeezed. “Now, now, MWA. No arguing in front of the patient. She’s fragile.” Turning to Sloan, Jeannie nodded in answer to his question. “He did use very specific words, and poof, they were gone.” She snapped her fingers while guilt ate her from the inside out. If only she’d had that kind of power twelve years ago, Victor would be where all pigs like him belonged.

Jeannie took a deep breath and let the notion sink deep into her bones. She’d literally sent people to hell.

Hell.

What if there’d been no Darnell and Casey? How many lives would she have ruined? How many families would she have torn apart? What if Nina hadn’t been around to make everything better? Jeannie held in a shudder of horror.

“So she grants them telepathically, and frickin’ randomly. So much awesome. Dude, she’s a live cannon. Fuck only knows what she’s capable of. I just know we need to fucking find Marty. I get hinky if she isn’t up my ass about how I wear the wrong color hoodie for my whiter shade of pale complexion.”

The three fell silent at yet another dead end. The only clue they’d had was that book. If the book they’d discovered online held answers, it was of no use to them if they couldn’t locate it. Nina had even gone back to the library to try to read the mind of the librarian who’d checked the book out—but according to her, the librarian’s mind was a complete blank.

Which meant something was rotten in Denmark. Was there someone else out there with the ability to erase your thoughts? Jeannie fought another shudder.

“There has to be a way to stop it,” Jeannie insisted, wincing when she touched the area just above her eye. “If someone else disappears or is possibly hurt because of me, I just won’t be able to live with that.”

Nina bent at the waist and scooped up a wriggling, attention-needy Benito, letting him lick her face. She chucked him under the chin with an affectionate finger. “Tell Mommy she won’t live much longer anyway, once Marty’s man gets ahold of her ass.” She chuckled, sticking Benito under her arm, leaving Jeannie and Sloan alone.

The already mediocre-sized bathroom became much smaller then, making her suck in a nervous breath of air. She rose from the toilet seat and skirted around Sloan, only to catch a glance of her reflection in the mirror. The bruise surrounding her swollen eye was mottled purple and red with shades of yellow to complement the enormous size of it.

Wow. Victor had really slugged her. And she’d missed her opportunity to slug him back. That was neither here nor there now. He’d found her. What was she going to do if he found her again? He knew about her karate lessons. Surely he knew where she lived, too.

How long had he known? How long had he waited to slither from his snake’s nest to come after her and taunt her? Worse, what would she do if she’d put everyone else in danger because Victor had located her?

She had to contact Fullbright.

Sloan came up behind her, letting his hands cup her shoulders for a brief moment before removing them just as quickly, probably due to the memory of yesterday’s freak-out.

Both regret and relief stung her gut in a simultaneous reaction.

His stunning face was full of concern as his blue eyes searched hers. “Christ, Jeannie. I’m sorry you got hurt because I wasn’t paying attention. I’ve heard the girls talk about all kinds of crazy when they help an accident victim, but I guess I just didn’t pay close enough attention. I’ll be a better wingman next time. Promise.” He winked at her, his lush lashes falling to his sharp cheekbones in a fell swoop.

“Maybe we should just never leave the house again? Seeing as I’m granting wishes like a crooked politician grants clemency—who knows what could happen out there?”

Sloan gave her a look that admonished her statement. “It’s not your fault, Jeannie.”

Jeannie’s shoulders sagged and hot tears threatened. “We can only use that excuse for so long, Sloan. I get the impression not everyone’s going to feel like it’s not my fault forever. And I suppose the genie defense will get old fast.”

Sloan’s eyes met hers in the mirror, intense and blue. “You can’t do anything about something you can’t control.”

Jeannie shook her head, noting the side of her hair was matted with blood. “You know, I swear I know that. But if I didn’t feel enormous guilt for not only creating such havoc, but for not having any idea how to get control of it, what kind of person would I be?”

“We’ll just have to keep you close so you can’t telepathically or otherwise grant wishes.”

Jeannie fought a shiver, running her hands along the arms of her old, navy blue sweater.
Close.
Being so close to Sloan made her heart race. They couldn’t stay this way much longer. She wasn’t emotionally ready to be in such close proximity to a man who was so unbelievably good-looking.

After twelve years, Jeannie? You’re not ready after twelve years? Then just give up right now, Jeannie Carlyle. Give in to the notion that it’s just going to be you and the twins forever. Better yet, why not just lie down and die? It’s easier than doing the work, taking a chance.
Her therapist’s voice rang inside her head.

She gave him a shaky laugh, putting the heel of her hand to her head. “I don’t know if close matters. I can do it telepathically, too, Sloan. Who knows the scope of my wish granting?”

“We’ll figure this out, Jeannie. I promise.” Sloan kept saying that, but she wondered if he wasn’t saying it more to reassure himself than anyone else.

“Will I always be like this?”

Sloan gave a resigned sigh, his expression filled with hesitant concern. “Honestly?”

Jeannie closed her eyes and gulped, clutching the edge of her newly installed sink. “The straight skinny.”

“I don’t know for sure, but I’m guessing you’ll always be a genie. From what the girls have told me, no one’s gone back to their old way of life. There’s no reversing it.”

“So I’m your indentured slave for life?” she squeaked.

His lips thinned in distaste. “I really wish you’d quit looking at it like that. You’re not my slave. I didn’t ask for this, either, Jeannie. It was all an accident.”

She gave him a look of apology, before letting her eyes flit to the floor. “You’re right. You saved me, and because of it, you got stuck with me. But I promise you, whatever it takes, I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can be.”

“Jeannie—lay off the whiny.”

She took a shaky breath. “Too much conviction?”

“Too much poor me. I wasn’t doing anything special. I was manning the phones for the girls. It was an accident. Period.”

“But you have a life and a broad to bag somewhere. Surely you have a job? I’m keeping you from those things.” Now that she’d let slip her interest in what Sloan Flaherty did with his time, she took solace in the fact that it wouldn’t appear as though she were prying at all.

She was simply making sure his harem wouldn’t suffer. How could she live with herself if he missed a good pole greasing by a woman named Almond Joy or Sweet Tart? At least she hoped that was how she came off—nothing more than mild curiosity with a dash of concern for his best interests due to the fact that they’d been thrown together, and it was polite to be concerned for your fellow victim of the paranormal.

“I have a job that can wait,” Sloan said, interrupting her internal concern. “As to my life, while much less complicated sans you, it was a little staid and a lot boring as of late.”

A snort slipped from her lips before she was able to stop it. “Oh, c’mon, Sloan. I just can’t see you as boring.”

His nod was curt. “Then maybe you don’t see me. Either way, it doesn’t matter. I’m here. I’m here for the long haul, and we’ll figure this out—
together
.”

“Can you do that without a flat screen?” A teasing smile lifted the corner of her chapped lips.

His eyebrow rose in haughty disdain. “I’m not really sure. I can only give my solemn vow I’ll try to make do with what you’ve got, as archaic and thrift store as that may be.”

Jeannie giggled, tucking her arms under her breasts. “I usually don’t have a lot of time to watch TV anymore, with the catering business and all. It sort of boomed this last year.”

Sloan fingered one of her hand towels, running his thumb over its shell pink surface. “What made you choose catering?”

She poked at her belly and grinned. She loved to cook. Her mother was responsible for that. It was the one bond they’d had—the one thing they’d agreed on in the millions of things they hadn’t. Their love of a kitchen and a shiny utensil. “My love of a good canapé. Food fills the soul, comforts it, sometimes even heals it. It’s the one thing guaranteed to bring people together because everyone needs it to live. We associate it with all sorts of things. Good memories, sometimes bad, but it’s something everyone can relate to.”