Page 30

Wishes

T he curtain rises on the stage right after my drink arrives, and I watch with morbid fascination. Seer still hasn’t told me what kind of club this is, though I find it much more obvious why we’re here. She wanted to meet up with old friends in the place they’re all comfortable in.

I’m not sure why she and I never visited anything like this all those years, and the thought Seer has held parts of herself back pinches. I’ve shared some of the deepest, darkest events in my life with her, and now I wonder if that’s been reciprocated or if our instant connection simply fooled me. A vaguely unsettled feeling sinks into my gut and I sip the bourbon to cover my discomfort.

“This should be good,” Julia murmurs to Seer. “I heard through the grapevine the entertainment was a previously lost one who just blew through town. Likes to perform in anonymity.”

Seer claps her hands, and the guys laugh. “Class! Overseas or homegrown? Number?”

Tharin stops tearing into the chicken wings like a wildebeest to answer her with a sauce-covered grin. “Overseas. No number. His family kept it hidden, but benefited during their lives.”

What an odd way to say that.

I mean, lots of parents live off their talented offspring through child acting or Disney channel deals—not that it makes it right. I’m one hundred percent Team #freeBritney, but Tharin didn’t make it sound like this person was famous or anything. In fact, Julia said ‘lost one’ as if that meant something they all understood. I rub my temples, trying to decide if getting hammered might make the ugliness earlier in the evening and the encroaching fear of losing my only friend easier to swallow.

Why the fuck not?

I haven't been able to let go since I moved back to the States. The closest I’ve come is with the boys, and they’re not here. I wish they were, honestly, and that’s scary, too. My life is a writhing snake pit of things that might destroy me at the moment, and I’m no closer to finding out why I got the kiss off from the FBI, either. One might say I’m a veritable cornucopia of failure, and they’d be right.

I slam the rest of my drink back, catching the server’s eye to hold up two fingers. She needs to make it a double this time. “Is it starting or what?”

Zasha narrows his eyes at me. “It is, love. Just wait. Some people like to make an entrance.”

“I wouldn’t know anyone like that,” I mutter, leaning back against the plush cushions of the booth as I nibble on some weird fried concoction.

Seer gives me a playful glare. “Careful, Peanut, your grumpy side is showing.”

Rolling my eyes, I continue nibbling at the array of snacks. When the overhead lights flash three times, then go dark, I blink. What in the merry fuck is this? My eyes adjust to the dark, and I look around to see various tables of people whispering to each other. A crack of lightning illuminates the stage and smoke fills the space. Damn, these people have some good special effects for a small club. When it clears, one of the hottest dudes I’ve ever seen in my entire life steps out of it like he just... appeared.

Are we here for a magic show?

The olive-skinned performer flashes impossibly white teeth, his expression looking more hungry than welcoming. Raising his hands as if encouraging the crowd to applaud, the good-looking magician walks—no, struts—across the stage. His dark eyes search the crowd as they clap and hoot, a smirk gracing his full lips. When he lowers his arms, he unbuttons the cuffs on his sleeves, rolling the obsidian dress shirt up to his elbows. I can almost hear the sighs from the audience, and his expression only grows more devilish.

Okay, Edgar knows he’s hot, but this guy?

He basks in the adoration of men and women alike as he peacocks around the proscenium. Ugh. I could never deal with an ego this big—it’d knock us all off the bed and mine’s pretty damned huge. Why does everyone think megalomaniacs are so attractive?

“See something you like, Peanut?” Seer whispers in a not very subtle voice.

Tharin and Zasha snort, and I turn to shoot a sneer their way. Men are nothing if not predictable, even ones traveling with a mystery woman I just met. “Definitely not, Seer. He’s lucky he’s not sprouting tail feathers or falling in love with his image in a martini glass. Gross.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but a poof of smoke explodes on the stage and the sexy dude disappears again. When he reappears, his hair is pulled into a loose topknot instead of falling loosely over his shoulder. His grin is even more self-satisfied, and for the first time, he speaks.

“Good evening, my illustrious friends! The Theopoulous family graciously ceded one of their stages tonight to allow me to indulge my penchant for theatrics while in town. I am honored to be granted the opportunity.” Mysterious dude smiles again, then continues. “My name is Dhameer Mirza Al Sharqi and I will grant your deepest desires.”

I snort. No, I snort hard enough for it to hurt. Could this guy be any more into himself? He should just make out with his hand on stage and get it over with it.

“Shhh!” Julia admonishes, her expression disapproving. “It’s impolite to scoff at royalty.”

“Uh. Royalty?” I whisper.

“There! You! The girl who cannot be arsed to pay attention to my magnificent show. You will be the first participant,” the asshole booms into the audience.

Fuck. Me.

I look to my friend for help and she looks away while her companions snicker like elementary school kids. “A little help, guys?”

“You’re the one who snorted at the Crown Prince, my lady. You’ll have to pay the price,” Zasha smirks, shrugging his shoulders. “Sarcasm isn’t always free, you know.”

Great. I didn’t even want to come here. Hell, I don’t even know where this is!

It’s apparent I won’t have a choice, though, so I stand. Before I move, I smooth the jacket dress and my fishnets down, trying to make sure I’m not flashing anyone on my hike to the stage. I don’t have the foggiest how he heard or saw me through the smoky haze at that distance, but my mom’s insistence that one day I’d regret muttering under my breath is echoing in my mind.

At least she was right about one thing.

When I reach the front, I take the stairs at the side and walk towards the spotlight. Dhameer gestures impatiently, and I walk up to him with an irritated look. His smile only grows wider as he turns to the crowd, stepping back to hold his arms out.

“I know nothing about this woman—save she has no patience for prideful wretches such as myself.” The titters echo across the room and I cross my arms over my chest. He walks to stage right, pulling a chair from the wings and placing it downstage center. “But tonight, for your viewing pleasure, I will uncover her deepest desires and grant her the ability to realize them.”

Mmm. One part magician, one part con artist, I suppose. He will not hypnotize me or put me in a trance; many have tried and failed in the past. “If you say so, dude.”

“A skeptic! How wonderful!” He claps his hands, actual delight flashing over his features. “Sit down, Miss…?”

“Whitley. Jolene Whitley,” I sigh before perching on the chair.

His eyes widen, and he tilts his head, studying me carefully. “A lovely name, to be sure. If you could close your eyes and try to relax, I will ask you a few more questions.”

“Okay.” I close my eyes, mentally swearing at Seer for bringing me to this farce. I can hear the boards creak as he walks around me in a slow circle. A soft breeze coasts over my skin, but he doesn’t touch me. The distance helps me relax and when my shoulders slump, I hear a pleased sound.

“Miss Jolene. Tell me what your fondest memory is.”

I shrug. “I don’t know. My memory is an issue.”

Another sound, a few steps, and a pause. “Can you tell me what makes you happy?”

That hits me. It’s changed so much since I came back, and I haven’t had time to sort through all of those feelings. My hand moves to my breastbone of its own volition, and I rub my palm there as I consider his royal dickface’s question.

What makes me happy?

Definitely not what I thought made me happy before I moved home to the Hollow. I intend to solve the mystery of my background check, and whatever my parents had going on, but I don’t think I’d move to Richmond to pick up where I left off.

In the past month, I’ve unintentionally put down roots, and I want to see where my little cadre is going. I enjoy working with the kids and in my studio. I love having the guys and my companions around. Even having Seer down the road has become part of the fabric of my daily routine. I couldn’t give any of it up to go back to a lonely apartment and weekends on the gun range.

“My new life,” I whisper as my heart squeezes in my chest. “My friends and family make me happy.”

Footsteps stop in front of me, and I can only assume he’s looking down at me. The crowd gasps at something I can’t see, but I feel a rush of cold air before a warm breath near my face. “Then a family you shall have. It is done.”

My brows furrow as I frown, confused at the murmured words. After a few moments, the crowd claps and I can’t resist opening my eyes. Looking around, I peer into the darkened room, trying to see what they’re applauding for, but I only see patrons. I turn to look up at the handsome jerk smirking at me, rolling my eyes. “Well, that was anticlimactic.”

“Was it?” he replies. “We shall see.”

“If you say so, dude.” I stand, stomping over to the stairs and heading for my group. I don’t know what kind of magic this dude was flogging, but he didn’t pull the wool over my eyes. I didn’t feel a thing, nor do I have an urge to cluck like a chicken.

Chicanery, that’s what this was.

“How do you feel, Peanut?” Seer asks, cocking a brow at me.

“Ugh. Fine. Let’s get out of here before I have to survive another round of this idiot’s lame magic.”

Tharin and Zasha look at one another as if they know something I don’t, and I’m too irritated to ask. The list of what they know I don’t is miles long, given that I just met them. Julia clucks her tongue at me and gives Seer a look like I’m the crazy one. I tap my foot, waiting for them all to move their asses, and they scoot out of the booth.

It’s about time. I need more booze and a LOT of dancing to wash the ick from my mind. That guy is a con and an asshat; thank fuck I never have to see him again. I don’t care if Julia’s royalty comment is true—I want nothing to do with that arrogant fuckwad.

“Are you leading us to an underground place where the youths get jiggy?” Julia asks, giving Seer another one of those annoying wordless conversation looks.

I choke. “Youths... get.. jiggy?”

Hell, even I’m not that out of touch. God help this woman if she gets within four feet of any teenager in town. They’re going to destroy her, and I’m going to laugh until I suffocate.

That’s my prediction.