Chapter Two

Years of lying to try and stay out of trouble had taught Moreen how to keep a straight face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said calmly. “Get out, now.”

He stood and stretched, putting his long arms above his head. His hair almost hit his ass as he arched his back. He approached and took the lamp from her shaking hands. “It cleaned up very well, don’t you think?

She watched him caress the lamp, rubbing his fingers along the surface as he turned it over and over. He seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him. “How did you get in here?”

“By magic.” He held up his hand and the lamp disappeared. Then he snapped his fingers and it appeared again.

“You can’t just pop in and out of someplace uninvited.”

“Why not? You do it.”

The hint of anger in his voice made her shiver. She stood and moved away from the table. “Get out.” She tried to keep her voice level. “Get out or I’ll call the cops.”

Laying the lamp down, he walked to the phone, picked it up, and tossed it to her. She caught it before it dropped to the floor. “Go ahead. While they’re here, you can explain how you came into possession of my lamp.”

He blinked his eyes and wet his lips, his tongue running slowly around his mouth. She tried to focus on the fear that rooted in her stomach and not on the idea of what his mouth would feel like latched onto her nipples, or her…

“Get out!” She pointed toward the door and stomped her foot for emphasis.

“What will you tell them when I say, ‘I loaned my lamp to a friend, and she called to tell me it was gone. A security camera showed Ms. McGee here stuffing the lamp in her shirt. Not that there’s much room in there with those enormous breasts, but she found room somehow, and she took it. I’m just trying to get it back.’ You’re on probation, right? I imagine being arrested for theft would break that probation.”

Her insides felt like jelly. “Liar. There was no tape.”

She gasped when an image of her stuffing the lamp into her hoodie and heading for Aliya’s front door appeared in thin air.

“Oh crap.”

“Indeed.” He sat down at the table and put his feet, crossed at the ankle, on the chair opposite him. “Have a seat, Moreen. You and I have a few things to discuss.”

“No. Go away.” She’d lost most of the indignation she’d felt earlier. Something very strange was happening here. She stared at the spot where her image had been. “How did you do that?”

“I told you, magic. Now, sit. I won’t say it again.”

He didn’t sound angry, but there didn’t seem to be a way to say no to him. She sat in the chair and clasped her hands together. When he turned his gaze and captured hers, she felt as if she might crumble on the spot.

“I’m sorry. You can take it back, no harm done. Look, I even cleaned it.” Moreen pushed the lamp toward him. “I didn’t mean any harm.”

“Sorry, that’s not flying with me. I know you took it because you hate Aliya, and because you blame her for the bad things that happened in your life.”

Her indignation was back ten-fold. “She is to blame. For all of it. She said horrible things about me and ruined my life.”

“So the first time you participated in a robbery was her fault? The first time you took drugs? The first time you were arrested?”

“I never robbed anyone. I took part in burglaries, yes, but no robberies. There’s a difference.”

“You never stole something from someone’s purse, never lifted a wallet from an innocent citizen just taking a walk in the park?”

She swallowed hard. How did he know those things? Things that had taken place when she was under eighteen, and were in her sealed records?

They stared at each other for a few moments, and Moreen felt as if he could pin her to the wall with his dark gaze. Her heart pulsed with anger, and she hated to admit, more than a little fear. This wasn’t an ordinary person sitting before her. She could tell just by looking at him. Forget the fact that he’d popped into her kitchen from out of nowhere, one look in his eyes showed he wasn’t human.

“What are you?”

“I’m a Djinni. But more important than that, I’m a demon.”

She glanced around the room, searching for the crucifix she had from her younger days. Did she have it on a wall somewhere? Could she get to it quickly?

“I’m not that sort of demon,” Paran said softly. “Well, not all the time. It does rear its ugly little head every once in a while. So you need to behave. My parents are demons. They hate the fact that I devoted my life to the Djinn, but I had lots of brothers and sisters for them to tutor in the ways of darkness.”

Moreen shook her head, unable to fully absorb his words. “If you’re not here to hurt me, then why are you here?”

“To teach you a few things.”

“Fat chance of that. Lecture me about taking the lamp if you want, then get the hell out. There’s nothing you can teach me.”

“Such big words. I hate to tell you this, but you’re not in charge here. I am. You will obey me.”

The smirk on his face made her want to slap him. “I obey no one.”

“Especially the law, hmm? Your lengthy criminal record seems to be a good indicator of that.”

“Fuck you,” she spat.

“What a potty mouth.” He snapped his fingers and a bar of soap appeared. It started to fizz as if it were wet, the small bubbles floating into the air. “Do I need to use this?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. She wanted to throw another dirty word his way, but she didn’t, afraid he would make good on his threat to wash her mouth out with soap.

She pressed her lips together and shook her head.

“Excellent.” The soap disappeared and Moreen’s unease increased.

They continued their stare down, and then she cleared her throat. She leaned forward, clasping her hands together and putting them on the table. “So, you came out of the lamp when I cleaned it? That means you work for me now, not the other way around. I’m in charge.”

His laughter filled the room.

“I know the story. Aladdin finds the lamp and he rubs it, and the genie has to grant his wishes.” She poked her forefinger into her chest. “So you have to do the same for me, since I rubbed the lamp.”

“This isn’t a fairy tale.”

“Bullsh…” Her voice trailed off when the soap reappeared. “Bull. I rubbed the lamp. I’m in charge. You’re mine. I want money. Lots of it. And I want a nice apartment like Aliya’s, and I want clothes, and I don’t ever want to have to work again. You’ll supply me with everything.”

“In other words, I’m bound to you as a slave?”

Moreen sat back with a satisfied smile on her face. “Yes.”

“I don’t think so.”

She slammed her fist down on the table as tears formed in her eyes. She couldn’t even catch a break from a genie. “I know the story! My mother read me that story all the time. The genie has to—”

“I’m not a genie, I’m a djinni. There’s a huge difference. Genies are bound to serve their masters. Djinn are creatures of free will, and they have separate rules.”

“Convenient for you.”

“Very.”

He studied her, and she felt as if he stripped her naked with his eyes, as if he could see straight through to her soul. The tears she’d been holding back slipped down her cheeks. She refused to brush them away, afraid to draw attention to them. When she saw his expression soften, she knew that he had noticed them.

“I’m not here to make your life miserable,” he said.

“Are you sure? I’ve never had anything easy in my life. Why should you be any different?”

He cocked his head in disgust. “You feel very put upon, don’t you? You feel as if the world is out to get you.”

“I’ve never caught a break in my life. Never. Life sucks and don’t give me that shit about making lemonade out of lemons. It doesn’t work.”

“But I’ve always liked lemonade.” He waved his hands and two glasses appeared on the table. He took a sip from one and indicated she should take the other. Instead, she absently rubbed the lamp.

“Great. I get a genie with a sense of humor.”

“I’m not a genie,” he said. “I am here to help you learn some new things about life. Things you’ll enjoy learning.”

“Unless it involves bettering my life, I have no desire to learn anything new.”

His laugh was soft. “Oh it does, but nothing will be handed to you. You’ll have to earn your lessons, and you’re going to learn to love yourself.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s gonna happen.”

“It’ll happen. I guarantee it.”

He sat forward, resting his elbows on his hips. His long hair cascaded over his shoulder, giving him a devilish look that made her heart race. She tried to stop it, calm it down. She didn’t want to like him.

He gestured at her with the hand that still held the glass. “We have lots of things to work through, you and I.”

“I’ve got news for you, I already have two jobs and I barely make ends meet. Plus I still have to put in my community service hours at the center. I have no time for you or your little lessons. So shove off. I rubbed the lamp. I’m in charge, not you.” She’d been careful with her words, careful not to say something that would cause the soap to reappear. She had no doubt this time he’d use it.

“You’ll have time. Lots of it.” He stood and ran his hands down his side, calling attention to his washboard abs.

She swallowed hard, then averted her gaze.

He crossed to her and put his hands on the arms of her chair, effectively caging her within. “Be ready for me tomorrow around five.”

Heat cascaded off his body and she felt her nipples tighten; moisture built between her thighs. Damn he was sexy, maleness rolling off him like rain off a rooftop.

She shifted her gaze toward the window. “I’ll be working at five.”

“No, you won’t. Be ready for me.” Then he disappeared.

Moreen stared at the spot where he’d stood. She clenched her clammy hands into fists, fighting back the fear that roiled in her stomach. If she hadn’t taken that freaking lamp, none of this would be happening. She reached out to push it away from her, but it disappeared, only to reappear on the other side of the table, shimmering in the moonlight that drifted in through the window.

She gasped, and then she put her head in her hands and sobbed.

Just her luck to figure out genies were real, only to discover that the stories of their obedience were off.

Way off.