Magic Gone Wild (32 page)

“My Mikey wouldn’t mind taking over from Jack Ertel when you leave. This lawn must be too much for him,” said another.

“Oh, the place looks lovely.” That intrepid woman had her foot over the threshold and her head around the door.

Thankfully, Eirik behaved himself.

“May we come in?” The question was moot because Ms. Intrepid, apparently the leader of the gaggle, was now standing in the foyer.

Five more followed.

“Um, okay.” Vana shut the door after the last crossed the threshold.

“Is that Peter?” Intrepid asked, pointing to the portrait hanging there before picking up one of the perfume bottles Peter had collected on that trip to Istanbul. She lifted the stopper and sniffed the contents. Pomegranate and poppy: quite a potent aphrodisiac back in its day. Vana wouldn’t be surprised if the fumes in the bottle still packed a punch.

“Yes, it is.” She barely got her answer out before Miss Nosey Pants picked up a set of tintypes Peter had found in a little shop just before the visit to Lady Lockshaven.

“Is this him and his wife? Mildred, I believe her name was.”

“Millie, but no. They’re just some—”

“I must say, those drapes are in remarkably good condition.” The woman didn’t wait for an answer before leading the way into the parlor.

Vana managed to return the pictures and perfume bottle to the table in the foyer before following the flock into the room, her “Thank you” falling on deaf ears as their feet fell on a few strands of Fatima’s fringe.

That counted.

“Wow. Nice compact,” said another woman, pulling Lucia out from the sofa cushions. “From the ’40s, right?”

Vana just nodded. The
15
40s, but she wouldn’t say so. What was Lucia doing there?

“And the furniture is as beautiful as if it’d been crafted yesterday.” Another woman walked on Fatima, while yet another stroked her hand along Henry’s side.

Vana thought she saw Henry sigh. She’d have to remember to do that—human contact, even when one wasn’t in human form, was still important.

After introductions were exchanged, Vana was able to escape to the kitchen alone to conjure up iced tea and a batch of baklava, two things she had no trouble whipping up—and luckily without any whips.

She brought the tray into the parlor, only to find the children stacked up nice and neat on the coffee table. Once she got over the shock and panic, she realized they couldn’t have done it themselves. If they had, the women would have run shrieking from the room.

She wasn’t surprised to see Ms. Intrepid—er, Laura Hardins—surreptitiously slide the cardboard box around to the side of the sofa with her shoe.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said, patting her pocket from which a piece of thread or something dangled, “but I just
had
to see what was inside that lovely armoire. These dishes are just exquisite. Quite rare, too, aren’t they?”

The woman had no idea.

“This looks delicious.” Laura put two pieces of baklava on the plate that was Anthony.

Vana held her breath. Anthony hated baklava.

Sure enough, one of the pieces started to inch toward the edge.

“Why don’t we sit down?” Vana took the plate from Laura and managed to slide the baklava onto Francesca and put Anthony at the bottom of the stack with a sleight-of-hand trick she’d learned in the
souk
from Ali that had nothing to do with magic.

“Where did you find the time to bake amid this extensive renovation?” LeeAnn Something-Something, a name full of Spanish articles that Vana hadn’t caught during the introductions, set Gregory on the table. The youngest of the children fluttered one of his edges slightly.

Vana picked him up and set him in her lap, her fingers stilling the roving edge. Unfortunately, though, he had more of them to move, so she tucked him beneath her hands. “Baklava isn’t really that hard to ma—”

“Who was your contractor?” Stella Johnsen set Benjamin on the table.

Benjamin loved baklava; Vana would have to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn’t absorb any. In this heat, melting baklava wouldn’t be hard to explain; evaporating baklava, on the other hand, would be. “Zane and I have been work—”

“Is everything here original to the house?” asked Lorelei Someone, examining the antique salt shaker Zane had given her.

“Yes—”

“I love this,” said Terri—or maybe it was Tess—holding up Lucia. “Pity you had to tape it shut.”

Tape
it
shut
? Vana tried to keep her grimace looking like a smile, but her mind—and Gregory’s edges—were reeling. What was going on?

“Did you have old photographs to copy from or did you hire a decorator?” Brenda Anderson helped herself (and Eloise) to another piece of baklava.

“Um, no. We just did what we thought looked right.”

Laura ran her fingers over the scroll-worked lantern Vana had found for Peter in the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul. “I heard the original owner picked up some amazing things in his travels.” The woman had
no
idea. “No one makes things like this anymore.”

She was more right than she knew. Peter had been convinced that an ifrit had inhabited that lantern. Vana hadn’t agreed; an ifrit would never have chosen something so plain, nor sat idly inside. Every ifrit she’d ever come across had been literally bouncing off whatever walls tried to contain it. Unless it’d been up to something.

Hmmm, maybe she should have kept that in the attic.

The questions continued, and while the women were polite, their interest in the house was anything but subtle. They were dying for a grand tour, and only good manners prevented them from asking.

And thank the stars they didn’t. Besides the fact that house was her home and not a tourist attraction, something was going on. Lucia with the tape and now Gregory was acting up in a way she’d expect of Colin when mortals were around.

Colin… Holy smokes! Where was Colin?

Sheer panic rose in a tidal wave over Vana. There were only seven dishes on the table. Where was he? What was he going to do? Colin was enough of an imp that he might actually have some in his genetic makeup, but now was not the time to test that theory.

She had to get these ladies out of here. Gods, what if Colin decided to skate across the floor? Fling himself through the air like a flying disc? She’d promised Zane that the kids would behave, and if they decided not to in front of this gaggle, the story would be all over town faster than her magic could stop it. Thankfully, she remembered what Zane said about being offensive. Or something like that.

She tucked Gregory into the sofa behind her, then stood up. “Ladies, thank you so much for this visit. It’s very nice of you to stop by, but, as I’m sure you can imagine, I still have a lot of work to do.”

“Zane isn’t here to help you?” That Laura woman didn’t give up.

Vana started gathering the children, then picked up the plate of baklava. Couldn’t be more on the offensive than that—or more offensive, probably, but Vana didn’t care. She had to get them out of here. “He had business to attend to.”

“About the house?” Laura asked again, both hands wrapped around the lantern. Vana needed to make sure it didn’t leave with the woman.

“Oh, please ask him not to sell it to a developer.” Stella handed over Benjamin right before a dollop of honey disappeared. “I know it must be worth a fortune, but someone will want to keep it as it is.”

“Stella’s right,” said LeeAnn. “He can’t sell to a developer. My son was just saying how his Future Farmers of America club had to get off the property they’re leasing because a developer bought it to build a mall. More projects like that, and we’ll lose that small-town feel that Larry and I moved here
because
of. A lot of people feel the same way.”

“Which is going to play a big part in the mayoral race come November,” said Stella.

“I hope he doesn’t sell it at all,” said Terri-Tess. “This house is part of our history. Where and how the town started. The City Council should preserve it as a historic landmark. Then no one would be able to buy it.”

“That’s a great idea, Tessa,” said Brenda. “Think of all the possibilities. From the house itself to the grounds, to the surrounding land, we might really want to think about bringing that idea up at the next Council meeting.”

“We could have the Fourth of July community picnic here.”

“Or summer camps.”

“Oh, that’d be a great idea. It’d save me a twenty-mile drive to the closest one before going into the office in the summer.”

Vana was more concerned with finding one wayward child than what the women were planning. She smiled at the right moments and nodded appropriately, but she was trying to find a way to get them out of the house while trying to figure out where Colin might be hiding. Using magic was looking better by the minute, which illustrated exactly what Colin’s disappearance was doing to her sanity. He could be anywhere. Planning anything.

“Thank you for all the suggestions, ladies. I’ll be sure to pass them on.” She headed toward the front door, wishing she could enchant the women like the Pied Piper had enchanted the mice and lead them out of the house.

Especially when Eirik started leaning toward her.

Great. If he fell over, that’d be another story to circulate around town.

She opened the front door, blocking him from their view. “Thank you all for coming, ladies. It’s been a pleasure getting to know you.”

Luckily, they took the hint, though with much hemming and hawing—and straining of necks to look upstairs—leaving just before Eirik decided to thump against the door.

“What is wrong with you?” Vana yanked the coat rack back to upright. “All of you? You know you can’t misbehave when mortals are around.” She dragged Eirik into the parlor—literally dragged him because he would not walk across the floor.

“Colin, you come out here right this instant, young man.”

The dishes started clacking. And Henry started thumping his doors. Eirik wobbled back and forth, and Lucia started jumping on the table while Fatima did some weird undulation thing that almost knocked Vana off her feet.

“Hold on, hold on!” She held up her hands, and like an orchestra waiting for the conductor’s signal, everyone quieted down. “What’s going on with you? And where’s Colin?”

The noise started again, and Vana held up her hand again. “One at a time, please.”

The story came out then in all its horrifying ugliness. Gary had Colin. He’d tied up Henry and Eirik—luckily Laura’s curiosity had made her cut Henry’s bonds, but the fishing line was still on his and Eirik’s legs.

Vana cut it off and yanked the nails out of poor Fatima with a sick feeling in her stomach. She’d let them down. She’d allowed someone to learn of her magic and use it against them. She was exactly what her parents expected: an utter failure as a genie.

But she couldn’t sit and wallow. She had to rescue Colin. She had to make sure Gary didn’t do anything with the knowledge he now had. And she needed to do it without Zane finding out because he’d
give
the house away before letting any of this taint his family name.

She untaped Fatima and Lucia, promised the children she’d bring Colin home, then magicked herself to Gary’s house.

32

Zane was definitely right: the best defense
was
a good offense.

And Gary was quite offensive.

Vana Invisibled herself into his house to find him sitting in his front parlor staring into Peter’s grandmother’s brass lamp with Colin duct-taped to the table next to him.

It took everything she had
not
to turn Gary into that toad she’d mentioned to Zane earlier. Too many questions would be asked if he disappeared, although she doubted that anyone would complain.

“I know you’re in there, genie,” he said, rubbing Emeline’s lamp. “I also know I’m your master. Come out here and show yourself. I have wishes I want granted.”

Oh, he did, did he?

Vana unInvisibled herself and levitated into the room in all her djinni glory: full-on harem garb in the most vibrant and sheer fabric, the richly embroidered, ceremonial high-curled
khussas
, and a veil straight out of the collection of the Seven Veils of the Dance. He was going to get the full treatment.

She stood right behind him, her magic making her entrance silent, then she tapped him on the shoulder.

“What the—” Gary jumped and spun around. Emeline’s lantern went rolling beneath the sofa.

“Hello, Gary.”

“You!” He was breathless with awe for all of about a second, then the leering took over. “It’s about time you showed up. What kept you?”

“Your clues were a little too vague.”

“I’ll work on that for next time.”

There would be no next time.

“So…” she said, keeping a tight enough rein on her temper that the grimace stretching across her face could be construed as a smile—until one heard the gnashing of teeth behind it. “I hear you have some wishes you want granted.”