Page 32 of Bewitched By the Djinn
“His break?”
“He’s in the band.” Richard chuckles. “He plays the saxophone. Such a sensuous instrument.”
I resist the urge to strangle him. “Are we done?”
Richard snaps and the swamp vanishes, replaced by a solid red door. “Be gone, then. But do try to have fun, my dear.”
I don’t hesitate. “Great. Thanks, Richard.”
My hand is on the doorknob when he calls out, “Cassandra.”
I pause.
“Keep that man close. You’re going to need him. And Bennet, darling?” Richard’s smirk turns sharp. “You’re welcome.”
Bennet stiffens. “For what?”
Richard winks at him. “You’ll see.”
“Come on.” I haul Bennet through the door with me.
Chapter
Nine
We step into a park, under the shade of a sprawling oak tree, its thick roots bulging from the earth. The trunk is wide and solid, its bark unbroken, like we didn’t just step out of it. Sunlight filters through the leaves, dappling the grass in gold and green. In the distance, children squeal with laughter, the rhythmic creak of swings blending with birdsong.
Bennet turns in a slow circle. “Where are we?”
“About a mile from where we were. Richard does this kind of thing.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “When he was making us the hex bags, he insisted on staying at our place for a full week. He said he needed to ‘sit in the space,’ but really I think he just wanted to annoy us. He wouldn’t leave me alone. Followed me everywhere, asking questions, and he kept stealing my hairbrush.”
Bennet tilts his head. “He seems lonely.”
I snort. “That’s a nice way of saying obnoxious. He might consider not being an asshole if he wants friends who actually enjoy his company.”
Bennet’s brows knit. “He has a strange scent.”
I glance at him. “Yeah?”
“Like oranges,” he says slowly. “Dripping in sugar. Cloying and sweet, slightly off.” His nose wrinkles. “But there’s something else underneath the scent. Almost as if the scent is a mask, which is why it smells wrong.”
“A mask for what?”
His eyes dart to the side. “I’m not sure. He kind of smells like you, but not.”
Okay. That’s weird. “Maybe that’s left over from when he stayed with us? Although that was a month ago and I would hope he’s showered a few times since then but who knows. What do I smell like?”
His posture stiffens, his mouth opening slightly before snapping shut.
A grin tugs at my lips. “Oh, come on. That bad?”
He clears his throat. “I—uh?—”
My pocket chirps.
I dig out my phone and check the message. The job I was supposed to take later. I’ll have to push it back. My stomach flips. They’re asking if I can stop by tomorrow, but I don’t know how I’ll have my magic back before then. We don’t even know if the vamp will be able to track Helen, let alone if she can fix this curse.
I blow out a slow breath and text back, pushing it to next week.
