Page 14 of Bewitched By the Djinn (The Bewitching Hour #8)

Chapter

Ten

The courtyard at Fritzel’s is quiet on a random Tuesday night in October.

Just me and Bennet, a scattering of empty picnic tables bathed in the soft glow of overhead fairy lights—orange colored, for the season—and the fake vampire in the corner, posing for pictures with a handful of giggly tourists.

Jazz notes float on the breeze, muffled by the brick walls that surround us.

Bennet shifts beside me, tapping his foot against the uneven cobblestone. “When I looked on the magic mirror Kevin gave me, it said vampires drink blood.”

I glance at him. “I’m guessing you don’t have vampires in Aetheria?”

“No.” He tilts his head. “We are all djinn. Among us, there are the jann, which are my people, the marid, the shaytan, and the ifrit .” He says “ifrit” like Jackie would say “cringe.”

“What are ifrit?”

“They are technically djinn, but they are different from the jann and the rest. They have magic, they can shapeshift when they have enough power, but it is hard for them to maintain. They are mostly made of smoke and fire. To take form, they must feed on us, drawing from our energy until they have the strength to take a form. Even then, it cannot last long.”

I frown. “So, they steal your magic and use it to become something they’re not?”

“Yes. They take from us in order to exist in the light.”

I think on that for a second. “Sounds like fictional vampires.”

Bennet’s brow furrows. “ Fictional vampires?”

I nod. “The Vampire Diaries isn’t real. It’s a show.

Fiction. In reality vamps don’t hurt people, at least, not any more than anyone else.

There are at least a dozen vamps in the New Orleans area, though I’ve only met a couple.

” Haven’t really had much use for them until now.

“They are magic manipulators, of varying ability. Some can feel magic in others and feed off of it—like it gets them high, I guess, but it doesn’t hurt the person they are taking from.

There are made-up stories about vampires drinking blood, but it’s not true.

Simple human paranoia, making up monsters to explain what people don’t understand. ”

Bennet hums, glancing toward the fake vamp, who is now ushering the tourists toward a staircase leading up to the bar. “Like him?”

“Right. No magic. Just a guy in a costume, playing a fictional vampire. There’s a bar up there—it’s actually kind of fun.

You pay him, and they let you go up. The bar overlooks the street and it’s decorated really cool, antique furniture, pictures that move, black lights, other visual effects. Stuff like that.”

His eyes flick back to me. “Have you been there before?”

“Yeah,” I admit. “A long time ago.”

Years ago. Before Jackie got sick. Before everything changed. Back when my biggest worries were college, friends, and whether I had enough gas money to make it through the week. Those problems were crushing at the time, all-consuming. If only I had known what was coming.

Bennet studies me. “You sound sad.”

I test the barrier around my mind. Still latched. Still intact. “Can you feel me?”

“No.” His voice is quiet. “It’s in your voice.”

I turn to face him fully. The fairy lights above cast a soft glow over his face, highlighting the sharp angles—the aristocratic cheekbones, the straight, austere nose. He looks like a royal. A royal pain in my ass.

Except, not so much a pain in my ass. Not really.

My eyes slide over his chiseled jawline. What I need is a nice burlap sack to cover all of that up.

“It reminds me of a different time.” I force my attention back to the present. “It’s amazing how much perspective you gain when the real shit hits the fan.”

He watches me for a beat. “It was before your parents left.”

“Yeah.” I glance at my watch. Eight o’clock. Any second now. Richard is never wrong.

“Have you met this vamp who will be here tonight?”

“I don’t think so. He’s kind of the big kahuna. Hard to find, hence the need to ask questions to get his location. He is the strongest vamp in the city. If anyone can find Helen, it’ll be him.” And hopefully he will help us. Otherwise... I am not sure what to try next.

The door to the bar slams shut as the fake vamp disappears with his latest group. The air shifts, the pressure dipping ever so slightly.

There .

“He’s here.” I incline my head toward the far corner.

Bennet blinks. “Where did he come from? He wasn’t there a second ago.”

“They move quickly. Come on.”

The vamp is already settled at a table, poking at a container of food with a plastic fork. He looks like he could be any college Joe—clean-cut dark hair, a Tulane frat-boy kind of face, a green polo shirt. The kind of guy I used to date.

I hate this kind of guy.

As we approach, he sets his fork aside, gaze flicking between us. His brows draw together. “Well. This is interesting.”

I sit across from him, already annoyed. Bennet settles beside me.

“What’s interesting?” I ask flatly.

His lips curve. “The connection between you.”

My brows lift. “You can see that?”

“Of course.”

“Can you fix it?”

His mouth twitches. “No. And you wouldn’t want me to.”

I grit my teeth. He’s absolutely the type of guy who has the audacity to tell me what I want. “Um, yes I would.”

“You will change your mind.” He leans back, studying us like a puzzle.

“Not that it matters. I couldn’t do it anyway.

I can read energies, I can absorb energies, but I can’t manipulate them in that way.

The shape of it—this thing between you—is very unique.

” His eyes glint, a hungry shimmer beneath the surface. “Quite fascinating.”

His expression makes my skin crawl, like he’s looking at a particularly rare dish on the menu.

“That’s not why we’re here. I’m Cassie, this is Bennet.”

His head dips in acknowledgment. “I am Edward.”

“Of course you are,” I mutter and then barrel ahead. “Listen, we are trying to find his sister. Can you help us track her?”

Edward’s expression shifts, his interest sharpening on Bennet. “Yes. You have a lot of power but it’s,” his head tilts, “dim. I felt it when you crossed the barrier into our world. Your sister as well. Her power signature is similar to yours, but stronger.

“You can sense when something powerful crosses into our world?”

Edward picks up his fork, spearing a bite of chicken. “Sure. Happens all the time.”

“It does?” That’s news to me. People and creatures crossing dimensions like it’s a damn revolving door? I have enough to worry about with what’s going on in this world, let alone the others bleeding into it.

Bennet leans forward. “Can you tell me where she is, then?”

Edward sets his fork down, lacing his fingers together. “I’m not sure. You went into the French Quarter and then your power dimmed. And the other...” He lifts his brows meaningfully.

I sigh. Here it is. “How much?”

He smiles. “Just a little taste.”

I extend my hand.

Bennet’s arm shoots out, stopping me. “What are you doing?”

“Paying the man.”

His gaze sharpens. “With what?”

“My energy.”

Bennet’s mouth pops open. “You can’t do that.”

“Of course I can. It’s how things work. Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt. I told you. It’s like giving blood. I’ll eat a good meal later.”

His jaw tightens. “I can’t let you do this.”

I raise an eyebrow. “It’s not your choice.”

He doesn’t flinch. “Let me pay him. It’s my sister.”

I hesitate, searching his face, then nod. “Fine.” Let him deal with the subsequent headache.

Bennet reaches out.

Edward’s eyes gleam, a flame flickering in the black depths of his pupils. He rests his fingers against the back of Bennet’s hand.

A few seconds pass. Then, the glow in Edward’s eyes flickers out. He frowns. “It’s not working.”

Bennet’s brows furrow. “Why not?”

Edward blows out a breath. “It’s this thing between you. It’s blocking access.”

I stretch out my hand again. “Try me.”

He touches my palm. A second passes. Then another.

He shakes his head. “Nope.”

I glance over at Bennet. “Maybe both at the same time?” The words register and my face fills with heat. “You know what I mean.”

Edward grins. “Now we’re talking.”

He shoves his food container to the side, then reaches out, fingers hovering over both of ours before finally resting atop them. His touch is cool, featherlight.

Seconds pass.

Edward withdraws. “Still nothing.”

Bennet shifts beside me. “Why?”

Edward studies us, his expression turning thoughtful, almost distant.

“I’ve seen connections between people before, but this one is different.

” His eyes fall shut, brow furrowing. “There are two pathways, but they’re woven together, like a braid.

Instead of widening the link, it’s jamming everything up. Blocking everything.”

“What does that mean?” My voice is steady, but my pulse ticks faster. “How do we fix it? Can we unbraid it? Remove it entirely?”

Edward frowns for a few beats longer before opening his eyes. “You must make a choice to act in sync.”

His words resonate inside me, like a string plucked deep in my chest.

A chill trickles down my spine. That is eerily close to the whole “move as one” thing.

I shove the thought aside.

Pay attention .

We need the intel. Neither of us can pay with our magic, but maybe... I tap Bennet’s arm and lean in, clearing my throat.

His head dips toward me. He smells like soap and warmth and rich, hot summer nights laced with jasmine.

“We could try that whole shared intentions thing.”

His eyes search mine. “Are you sure? You may have to lower your mental shields for us to connect on that level.”

I spread my fingers on the table. “I can’t say I like it, but do you have any other ideas? This guy only takes payment in magic, and our magic is stuck.”

His jaw flexes. “I understand. But perhaps we can intend for the magic to come from me and not you.”

The protectiveness radiating off him is not hot at all. Nope.

I shiver, but only because it’s cold.

“Fine.” Turning back to Edward, I clap my hands, rubbing them together. “Okay, Eddie boy. Let’s try this again.”