- Home
- Nicole Peeler
Jinn and Juice Page 6
Jinn and Juice Read online
Page 6
People were everywhere.
“Shit,” I said, watching a plastic kiddy slide arc through the air to hit the sidewalk near my car. “This is going to be fun.”
Oz glanced at me. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or sarcastic.”
I grinned at him. “C’mon, Master. This is your chance to see how we all get along. Or don’t, as the case may be.”
“Ma’am, I can’t let you in there,” said one of the policemen standing in a huge circle, keeping the humans out of the way. His voice had the robotically repetitive tone of the heavily glamoured.
I used my own power on him, knowing the Exterminators’ standard shtick. “We’re with the special squad.”
He nodded, pupils dilated, letting me and Oz pass.
“Why are the cops here if this is a supernatural problem?” he asked, as we hurried toward the flurry of activity at the far end of the park.
“In this case, they probably got here first,” I said.
“How do you know?”
I pointed to the torso of the human policeman that lay, wrong way around, next to his own legs, so he could have sucked on his own toes had he been alive.
“Oh God,” Oz said, turning green.
“We keep an eye on the police scanners. We have people who take care of this sort of thing, but when they need backup, they put out a Call. I was close and strong enough, so I could receive it.”
“That poor guy,” Oz said.
I nodded, flashing him an “I told you so” look. “Like I was saying, humans and supernaturals are best kept separate.”
He looked troubled at that, but I didn’t have time to pick his brain and he wasn’t asking me to, so I ignored him.
We were nearly to the source of the problem. It looked kinda like the Tick, from that old cartoon about a guy dressed up as a giant superhero tick. Only this Tick was more actual tick: greenish-black and while the body was distinctly buff and humanoid, the head was all mandibles and antennae and weird bug eyes.
“Bugbear. Goddammit.”
“A what?” Oz asked me, so I repeated myself, and then we were accosted by the Exterminator in charge of the whole shebang.
She was an old dancing buddy of mine, Loretta. A siren, she was all bouncing blonde curls, big blue eyes, and buxom figure. Also gills, third eyelids, and webbed fingers and toes, but from the way Oz was goggling at her, that didn’t distract from her beauty. Like all sirens, she was great at glamouring the human witnesses but not the best offense.
“Lyla?” Loretta said, clearly surprised to see me. Calls were magically calibrated to seek out beings with an appropriate level of power for the problem. I was normally only Called for far lesser issues—crowd control, things like that. But now that I was Bound, I could handle a whole lot more, and the Exterminator’s special Call knew that, even if Loretta didn’t.
Just then a small plastic Pegasus—one of those park toys on a spring that kids ride on—nearly beaned me, and I decided now was not the time for explanations.
“Who are you with?” I asked, cutting to the chase.
“Suki and Punyabrata,” she said in dulcet tones, naming two of Pittsburgh’s big-gun Exterminators. Suki was a gaki and Puny a naga. Like sirens, both were Immunda races. Gakis, though rare and very strong for Immunda, were really just spirit vampires. Meanwhile Puny, a snake-shapeshifter, could skim just enough from the Node to fuel his transformations. And once he was transformed…
A snake the size of a big rig could do enough damage without resorting to any other magic than its own ability to slither over you like a steamroller.
“Suki’s down,” Loretta continued. “Puny’s…”
Something darkened the sky above us and then landed with a resounding thud at our backs. Loretta swore and when we turned it was to see Puny, still in snake form, embedded a few feet into the grass like a hissing, disgruntled comet.
“Puny’s having problems,” I finished for her.
“Do you really think you can help?” Loretta asked, looking at me with doubt in her oceanic eyes.
I nodded. “I’m Bound now,” I said, and she gaped from me to Oz and then back at me before her eyes narrowed in calculation.
“Oh.”
Any more small talk was precluded by a horrible chittering cry, as the bugbear launched itself toward the line of humans huddled behind the police officers.
“Tell me to fight the bugbear,” I told Oz, already reaching for the Node.
Oz did as I asked, without question. “Take that thing out, Lyla, before it hurts anyone else.”
And just like that, Pittsburgh’s steel-stained juice poured through my system. I launched myself on a wave of black Fire, forcing my shape to shift and grow huge even as I did so, into a size far more massive than I could have achieved unBound, fighting Oz the night before.
We met in midair, the bugbear and me, my Fire wrapping around both of us as I pushed it away from the humans and toward the ground. We landed, me on top, knocking the breath out of the bugbear as I was enveloped by the smell of rotten eggs.
From underneath me the bugbear blinked, obviously surprised at my aerial assault. I grinned at it, my lips feeling large and unwieldy, as I pulled back a fist and hit it square in the mandible.
The solid blow only pissed it off. It growled, mandibles opening wide to reveal jagged bug teeth covered in stinking saliva—the old-egg smell came from inside the creature, a charming discovery.
It blew its stinking breath right in my face, the reek so powerful I pulled back, then yelped as the beast yanked my arm hard, flinging me off. It bounded to its feet, lunging at Oz, who had gamely trotted over and assumed his boxer’s stance. Just as the creature’s meaty, armored fist hit my Master’s nose with a crunch, I crashed into the beast from the side. We landed squarely in the center of a picnic table, spread with what looked like a lovely lunch. The table buckled under our combined weight, listing to the right. Rolling onto the ground, we scrabbled at each other with clawed hands, Oz, his nose streaming blood, shouting unhelpful exhortations of encouragement like an overzealous hockey mom as the creature breathed its reek all over me.
I managed to get on top of the beast, beefing up the thighs I wrapped around its neck with an extra layer or five of muscle, using my massive calves to restrain its arms. “Hit it with the bench!” shouted Ozan, and I had to obey. I reached for what had been one of the picnic table’s benches, hefting it with ease in one of my hamlike hands. Raising it above my head, I brought it down with all my strength on the bugbear’s head.
“Hulk smash!” I shouted, just for the fun of it.
It grunted, but didn’t appear particularly fazed. So I brought the bench down again and again, although still to no effect. “What the hell?” I shouted at it. “Die already!”
It snarled, bucking like a bronco, ignoring my suggestion.
“Try the balls!” shouted Oz, and I did as he said, partly because it was a good idea and partly because I had to follow his commands. I raised the bench again, but twisted as I brought it down, landing it solidly in the creature’s crotch.
I’m not sure bugbears have a gender—not all fey monsters do—but it definitely had something sensitive between its legs. The creature sat bolt upright, shock and pain giving it a surge of strength. The good news was that I seemed to have done some damage, as the creature stopped trying either to kill me or get to the humans ringing the park. The bad news was that it sat up so swiftly it flung me off, leaving it free to flee. Which it did, rolling like a massive, stinky tumbleweed away from me. Bounding to its feet, it leaped up and away from the main street of Regent’s Square toward the wilder portions of Frick Park.
I was on my own feet, flinging a wave of black Fire at the creature, but I was too late. Bugbears could jump like fleas, and this one used its superpower to great effect.
“Shit!” I shot a few more waves of black Fire at the beast, but it was way out of my range.
Muttering Turkish imprecations under my breath, I turned to Oz. My Mas
ter’s nose was still bleeding heavily, which I pointed out to him with a finger poked in his direction. His hand went to his face and he blanched when it came away wet and red. He stripped off his button-up, then his T-shirt, showing off an awful lot of muscled, lightly haired chest, all covered in vintage tattoos.
Pressing his T-shirt to his face, he looked me over with a combination of shock and curiosity. I knew he’d have a thousand questions as, ever the scientist, he scanned down with clinical precision over my now hugely muscled shape. Only he suddenly blushed red and looked back up at my eyes, clearly forgetting his clinical detachment.
I looked down to discover what I’d expected. Only in superhero comics do clothes tear in such a way as to protect one’s modesty. And so I’d burst out of my jeans and thin black sweater leaving one boob hanging out and my cooter exposed, a look that would have gotten me summarily stoned where and when I was from.
I shrugged ruefully at him as I reclaimed my true form, shifting down into my own comfortable shape. He watched with fascinated curiosity until the few wisps of clothing that had managed to cling to me in the first shift gave up the ghost and fell off entirely.
Not making me regret I’d left the cantaloupe at home, Ozan did the gentlemanly thing and whirled around, keeping his back turned as he tossed me the button-up he held in one hand.
I donned the shirt, staring at his broad, tattooed shoulders. My new Master kept surprising me, much to my own consternation.
“You decent?” he asked, using a phrase I hadn’t heard for years outside of period drama.
“Yes,” I said. “As decent as I get, at least.” Then I walked toward him, hand outstretched. A small burst of magic fixed his busted nose.
When he lowered his T-shirt his mouth was quirked in a smile. Even bloody, he was handsome, and I regretted the day he learned what being a Magi really meant and did something to make me hate him.
Loretta pounded up next to him, squawking into her mobile phone. She lowered it from her ear to yell at me.
“That was insane, Lyla! Were you using the Node?”
Shit, I thought. “Uh, the Node? Hell no.” When it doubt, brazen it out. “That was, um, jinni magic. From being Bound. Jinni magic.”
Maybe not my best lie. Loretta did not look convinced but she didn’t push. Oz looked between the two of us, his brow wrinkled in thoughts I probably didn’t want him to be thinking.
“Well, whatever it was, that was a great job,” Loretta said. “We’ve got a team tracking the thing.”
“You need me to help?”
She shook her head. “Negative. We were just taken unawares. We haven’t seen a bugbear this side of Sideways in a very long time.”
“Yeah, what the hell was it doing here?”
“We have no idea,” she said, grimly. “Something must have brought it over, but why?”
Bugbears lived Sideways, they were dumb and mean, and they tended to eat anything that moved that they came across. They couldn’t be bought, or bribed, or blackmailed, so they didn’t make good employees. Why anyone would bring such a thing to the human plane was completely mystifying.
And not my problem.
“I got ninety-nine problems and a bugbear ain’t one, Loretta. Can we go?”
Loretta nodded. “You did a great job. We may need you again, if we find the thing.” Her eyes narrowed further at me, a look that made my palms sweat. “I’ll be seeing you.
“And thank you for your help, too,” she said, turning to Oz.
He nodded, gesturing awkwardly with his bloody T-shirt as he told her it was no problem.
She smiled at him, openly admiring his chest as he talked. “Here,” she said, reaching for the shirt. “I can take get rid of that for you. Least I can do.” He handed it to her and she turned back to all the watching humans as I felt the powerful swell of her magic begin changing their perception of everything they’d just seen…
“She’s gonna have to eat a lot of hearts tonight to refuel,” I said, hoping the hospital morgues were stocked. Otherwise there’d be a few less homeless people wandering around tomorrow.
“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.
Chapter Eight
On 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.