Page 42 of Bewitched By the Djinn
I glance down, pulse spiking, expecting I don’t even know what, a bolt of lightning sticking out of my chest?
But no. It’s not me.
A drop of crimson patters onto the floor. Then another.
Bennet’s hand drips with blood.
Mimi spins on her heel. “I’ll grab the first aid kit.”
I curse under my breath. He got hurt protecting me, and I was too caught up in my own panic to notice. “Come on. Let’s wash you up.”
The kitchen light is too bright after the street’s murky shadows. I guide him to the sink, turning the tap. Cold water. Great. Whatever, it’ll have to do.
“Jacket off.” I reach to help him shrug out of the leather coat. It’s heavier than I expected, still warm from his body. I fold itcarefully, setting it aside, my gaze catching on the dark stains blooming at the cuffs.
I swallow hard. He didn’t hesitate. Not for a second.
“Hand.” I nudge him closer to the sink.
Bennet obeys, holding it under the stream. Water runs pink, swirling down the drain in delicate spirals. The cut on the base of his palm is deep, worryingly so. Might need stitches.
Mimi reappears, the bright red first aid kit clutched in her hands. “Here.”
I take it, flipping the latch and rifling through the supplies. Maybe liquid bandages would be best. He’ll rub regular Band-Aids off the second he touches anything.
Mimi clicks the stove on, setting the kettle to boil. “Are you going to tell me what the hell happened, or do I need to guess?”
I find an alcohol wipe and tear it open. “We were attacked.”
Mimi blinks. “Attacked? By who?”
“Or by what.” I press the wipe to his skin. “This might sting.”
Bennet barely reacts, but his teeth are clenched.
Mimi frowns. “By what?”
I remove the wipe. The bleeding is already slowing. Another djinn ability? I open the liquid bandage bottle, dipping the brush inside. “A shadow. It came loose from the wall. And it had lightning.”
Mimi’s eyebrows shoot toward her hairline. “A shadow. With lightning.”
“I know how it sounds.” I slide the brush over his wound carefully.
“It was an ifrit.” Bennet’s voice is quiet but firm.
My fingers still. “Thatwas an ifrit?”
The kettle whistles.
Mimi pulls it off the stove, shutting the burner off. “What the hell is an ifrit?”
His throat bobs as he swallows.
“You said they feed on magic. But that thing—” I gesture toward the door, toward the outside world. “That wasn’t feeding. That was attacking.”
Bennet shakes his head. “There is not enough magic here for them to fully manifest.” His hand flexes under mine. “Even in Aetheria, they are mostly smoke and shadow. They feed on my people to take form, and even then they cannot sustain a physical shape for long. I don’t know how it came here at all. I don’t think it was trying to kill, only injure.”
A chill prickles at my spine. “You think it was trying to take you back?”
