A Risky Proposition (39 page)

Hannah licked her lips, appearing nervous all of a sudden.  “She comes in now and then.”

I did my best to conceal my disquiet.  “Oh.  Maybe that’s why she looks familiar.”

I wanted to warn her, but what was I going to say? 
Gee, Hannah, were you aware that you’ve been consorting with a death djinn?  If not, don’t worry.  She could just be after me.  You’ll be fine as long as you don’t wish for death around her. 

Hannah blinked rapidly.  “Well, I am sure you are eager to be on your way.  You must be going out this evening—you look so pretty in your little red skirt!”

I glanced down at the silky fabric floating above my knees and mumbled my thanks.  Before I could form another thought, she was bustling me toward the door.  “So I thank you again for coming and I will not keep you any longer!  See you Monday!”

She closed the door between us and turned the lock with one hand as she fluttered the be-ringed fingers of the other at me in a hasty farewell.  I stared through the glass after her retreating back with growing misgivings.  Was I imagining things? 

Ever exuberant, enthusiastic Hannah, who had always been so sweet to me, couldn’t be involved with the death djinns.  Could she?

“That’s weird,” Sunny responded with a frown when I told her about the peculiar experience.  “I did see that woman leaving the shop—I was trying to see if I could spot Galena following you again.”  She grinned.  “But nothing looked out of the ordinary from here.  Maybe it’s just another death djinn trying to spy on you.”

“Hannah seemed like she was in such a rush to get rid of me after I asked about her, though.”  My hands gripped the steering wheel in apprehension.

“You don’t think she’d help them, do you?” Sunny asked incredulously.

I gave her a troubled look.  “She had a huge wad of cash in her hand and she wouldn’t answer me when I asked if the lady bought anything.”  It hurt to even think about Hannah betraying me like that.

“Well, we’ll definitely have to keep our eyes open,” Sunny said with a frown, “but it’s probably not the best idea to start grilling Hannah about death djinns just yet.  You should at least wait until you figure out a spell to alter her memory afterward.  You know, in case she decides you belong in a mental ward with a Thorazine drip attached to your arm.”

“Now there’s an interesting idea,” I mused.

“Yes, it’s supposed to wash all your worries right away.  And I promise to bring some coloring books and the biggest box of crayons I can find when I come to visit you.  I’ll even get you the ones with the sharpener built into the box!”

“I meant the memory spell, not the mental ward,” I growled, shooting her my dirtiest look.

“Oh, sorry.  Yeah, I guess that would be pretty cool too.”  She snickered at me with an annoying lack of intimidation.

I tried to let it go and simply add Hannah and her suspicious ‘customer’ to the growing list of things I needed to put out of my mind for the time being.

But a renewed sense of helplessness began gnawing at my insides.  It was lighter fuel to the reckless fire of my resolve.  I would call the Hell Ride tonight—despite the danger.  I would do whatever it took.  Because Sparrow’s mom was right—death was better than giving up my soul.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 
“Heavenly!” Sunny exhaled on a contented sigh as we headed home several hours later.  “That was so worth an interview with a death djinn possessed teenager.  It was even worth kissing up to that snotty little hostess.”

We’d caught the draw bridge as we left Hannah’s, run into construction on the street beyond, and to top it all off, one of the two parking garages had been closed. 

I was still feeling too guilty to even consider asking for Lorien’s help.

As a result, we’d been a half hour late for our reservation and had to beg the manager to fit us into the packed seating schedule.  He put it off on the overwhelmed hostess, and she was still in a huff about it when she came to retrieve us from the bar over an hour later.

Her ire was obvious from the way she scowled and flipped her hair at us, not to mention the way she stormed off after handing us our menus, her satin kimono swishing angrily with her strides.

Oh well.  After an hour at the bar we had no difficulty finding humor in the situation.

And the sushi was fantastic—unbelievably fresh cuts that melted on our tongues and the most wickedly spicy wasabi I’d ever put in my mouth.  Not to mention a bean sprout salad and a ginger miso soup to die for.

Sunny had performed a taste test of three brands of sake in order to determine her favorite.  She was still giddy from the liquor, even though we’d walked around afterward and made our usual pit-stop by Starbucks. 

I was more clear-headed, having opted for Japanese beer.  Sake always put me in mind of a combination of warm vodka and sweet white wine—neither of which held any appeal for me, much less mixed together.

Back at the penthouse, I bid my best friend a good night and watched her stumble off to bed before heading to my own room to dial Cindy’s cell phone.  I sighed with relief when it rang to voicemail, and left her a message that I wouldn’t be able to work tomorrow because a family emergency had come up and I had to fly out tonight.  It was sort of true. 

Instead of changing into the sleep shirt and shorts I had put aside earlier, I donned my thickest pair of jeans and a red shirt with the logo ‘Women Who Behave Rarely Make History’.  I needed all the encouragement I could get.  Then I laid out a pair of socks and sneakers by the bed (having learned my lesson about wearing sandals on expeditions to the faerie realm), set my alarm for midnight, and tried to relax.

The buzz of the alarm pulled me into a groggy state of awareness what seemed like only minutes later.  I reached across my nightstand to make it stop, hoping the sound hadn’t woken Sunny. 

I staggered over to splash cold water on my face, refusing to look my mirror image in the eye for fear that one of us would talk some sense into the other.  Then I slipped on my shoes and socks and pulled Lauringer’s slip of paper from its new resting place next to the frog vibrator in my bedside drawer.

I smiled forlornly at Sparrow’s bouquet of wildflowers, springing up from a tall crystal vase on the nightstand.  As an afterthought, I reached beneath my pillow for his silver coin and stuck it in my pocket for luck. 

I was used to bare feet, and the carpet felt oddly springy beneath my sneakers as I treaded across the room to open the sliding glass door.  I stood balanced in the middle of the frame, the warm sea-breeze brushing my face as the cool inside air caressed my back.  Before I could change my mind, I began to read: 

Unholy Court, I call you this night.

Come bear me away in the absence of light.

I surrender to darkness as clinging as soot.

I paused, squeezing my eyes shut as I breathlessly forced out the final line:

Light’s goodness lies shadowed and evil’s afoot.

I stared into the night, frozen and waiting.  The ocean crashed restlessly onto the shore and the moon shone bright and almost full.  It rode high on the horizon, its glowing reflection glinting off the endless ripples masking the deeper water below.  The spiky outlines of palm trees were scattered silhouettes along the edges of the beach, their fronds swaying in the breeze.   

A strange electrical charge permeated the air and the underlying silence became almost painful as the blood rushed past my ears.  Then a low-grade hum began to pulse through me.  It grew louder and stronger, a disturbing vibration that expanded until it felt as if it was coming from inside my own head, drowning out the crash of the waves.

A shadow passed across the moon, blotting out its milky white glow in a mass of inky blackness that stained the midnight sky.  It spread like a contagion, swelling rapidly to choke out the stars.  Suddenly, a hulking behemoth was hovering before me, cloaked in writhing darkness. 

A thick beam of light shot out to pin me, throwing the balcony into stark relief.  It was blindingly bright, but it seethed with a pestilent taint that seeped into my skin like oil.  I nearly retched at the vileness of it. 

I fought down the twisting in my stomach, panic ripping through me as I realized my feet were rooted to the spot.  I tried to open my eyes against the virulent intensity, managing a squint that allowed me to discern a cloud of dark motes drifting down over me.  It might have been faerie dust, but instead of sparkling and reflecting the light, it seemed to absorb and distort it, hurting my eyes as much as the sickly brightness.

In the space of one rapid heartbeat I was sucked violently out and upward, as if by a great whirlwind.  It stole my breath along with my balance, and before I could scream, I was tumbled roughly onto a hard, unforgiving surface. 

Tears sprang to my eyes as jagged splinters abraded my palms.  My entire right side went numb as it absorbed the impact, and then abruptly exploded into searing pain.  A dreadful wheezing sound escaped my throat as I tried to suck oxygen into my stunned lungs.

In the sudden stillness of fear and the clarity of pain, I was struck by the stupidity of what I had just done.  Ever since talking to Ophelia, I’d kept this idea in the back of my mind, thinking of it as a brave last resort in my search for the mysterious goblin.  It had seemed the only move left open to me after being blocked and checked at every turn. 

But there was a fine line between bravery and foolishness.  And against all advice from those wiser than me, I had called the Unseelie Court and invited them to take me on the Hell Ride.  I had surrendered control to the greatest force for evil in the faerie realm. 

And now it was too late to turn back.

Don’t miss the exciting conclusion of Sydney’s adventures in the Faerie Realm!

Soul Seduction – Book 2 of The Third Wish Duology

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An excerpt follows from
Passionate Magic
, which features Sparrow’s best friend, Doyle.  It is more of a traditional romance than
The Third Wish
Duology, but still has plenty of fantasy.  I hope you enjoy it!

- Dawn Addonizio

Chapter One of
Passionate Magic

The summer sun blazed down onto Violet’s upturned face, soaking into her body to melt away the tension that had been building since she’d arrived in Key Largo two days ago.  Dazzling points of sunlight glinted across countless rippling waves as the boat sped toward a nearby coral reef, the rush of wind softening the heat and sending her long, dark hair fluttering out behind her.  The sweet scent of orange and coconut tanning oil teased her senses.

She was on summer vacation from her job teaching fourth grade, although it didn’t feel like much of a vacation.  She’d been putting off this trip, but with the end of the school year she’d run out of excuses.  She couldn’t believe it had already been two whole months since the day she’d stood beside the ugly upturned earth that marked her parents’ graves.

Vicki and George Hendrickson had always loved the ocean, reveled in its mystery and magic, and they had instilled that love in their only daughter.  Even now, being on the ocean soothed and calmed Violet—despite the fact that, in the end, it had been this very expanse of water that had stolen her parents’ lives.

Violet sighed.  She’d thought she was almost at peace with the unfair way in which they’d been taken from her.  But two days spent alone in their cozy garden villa, going through closets scattered with Hawaiian shirts that carried traces of her dad’s aftershave, and her mom’s eclectic collection of hats, had stirred her grief back up to the surface. 

She needed a break, intending to go for a walk down by the docks and maybe a swim on the beach.  But she’d happened past this snorkeling tour just as it was leaving and joined it on a whim.

Maybe it was the boat’s name that called to her—
Ocean Magic—
painted in bright, glowing blue against the vessel’s crisp, white-washed stern.  Or perhaps she was drawn by the challenge of embracing the ocean again after what had happened; proving that she held neither fear nor blame for it. 

Violet couldn’t help a small smirk as she admitted to herself that it also might have had something to do with the sexy boat captain rounding up customers from the dock as she passed.  The husky timbre of his voice had lured her over, Irish if she wasn’t mistaken.  She was a sucker for that particular accent.  Of course, it didn’t hurt that he was built like a Celtic god.

She stole a peek at him through the dark lenses of her sunglasses.  He stood at the polished mahogany captain’s wheel, the wind ruffling his short honey-brown hair, all easy self-assurance as he chatted with a pair of women who sat nearby.