Summoned

Syd seems to note my exhaustion.

 

“Follow me.” She squeezes past me and heads down the hall.

 

I trail after her, then stop as she flips on the light to a bathroom.

 

“Towels are in there.” She points at a wall mounted cabinet. “The guest bedroom is across from here. Get washed up and catch some sleep. I have to make a few phone calls and figure out what we're going to do. Then I'll wake Zoe and head to the store for food and clothes.”

 

She turns and leaves.

 

With enough soap and hot water, I manage to scrub off all the grime and probably a layer of skin. I slip on my jeans, gather up my clothes, and cross the hall to the guest room.

 

Syd is lying on top of the covers, looking up at the ceiling. I halt, unsure of my boundaries.

 

She glances at me. “You can lie down. I won't club you upside the head with a rock-filled purse.”

 

“It's not just that.” I drop my laundry into the corner. “My pants are kind of … bloody.”

 

“Take 'em off,” she says without any emotion.

 

I can't hold back the dumb grin, though.

 

She rolls her eyes, but smiles. “Not like I haven't seen you naked before.”

 

“Yeah, but now it's awkward.” I peel out of my clothes and settle under the covers, next to her.

 

“Everything between us is.” She stares at the ceiling again, then sighs. “I really should get to the store, but I'm too tired to move.”

 

“Rough night?”

 

She laughs. “Yeah. I might need a drink soon.”

 

We simmer into a warm, pleasant silence. As much as I want to sleep, my brain isn't quite ready to shut down. Maybe because I have a lot to think about. More than likely, though, it's because Syd is next to me and I want to enjoy the feeling.

 

I study her. She is pretty beat up with scratches and bruises, but the swelling in her face has already gone down. Her arm is bandaged where Silvia went after her like a Thanksgiving turkey.

 

Her expression is contemplative. That's Syd, always ready to take control of the situation.

 

I smile and settle back against the wrought iron headboard. “So, what was that avocado thing about?”

 

She gives a short laugh.

 

“Three hundred million questions you could ask, and you care about fruit flies.” She rises onto her elbows and looks at me. “You know, when Ballantyne children are tucked into bed, they're told stories about the jinn. No 'Goodnight, Moon' for us. I spent my entire life wondering what the jinn would be like. If I would ever meet him. Sometimes, the idea scared me. Most of the time, it fascinated me.”

 

I tilt my head. “Disappointed?”

 

“I'm not sure.” She quirks her lips. “We never really knew anything specific about Karl's jinn. Not if he worshiped or despised Karl. Not if he had magic. Not if he was even real.”

 

I raise my eyebrows.

 

“Well, we never saw the jinn ourselves. We just heard about it from Grandma, that Grandpa had bestowed some ancient gift onto his first born son. Even she had never witnessed it, because Grandpa kidnapped Karl right after my youngest uncle was born.”

 

I stare at her, resigned to trying to decode her conversations. “I still don't get what avocados had to do with anything.”

 

“It's hard to explain. It was right after Zoe was kidnapped, you know? I was such a mess.” She takes a deep breath and pauses before continuing. “It's like, they never went and saw the avocados. They just assumed the flies were there, and then all these farmers suffered. Export is a huge part of economy, and all these assumptions, it must have ruined lives.”

 

She sits upright. “It was just like us. Like my family. We never saw the jinn. We just assumed it existed, and then people started getting hurt.”

 

I have no reply. The fact I do exist doesn't make what happened any more excusable. No one should have died proving I was real. The irony I was right in front of them the whole time is vile.

 

I will probably never fully understand what Syd went through, being raised in damn near a cult, then watching her family torn apart. Finding out I was behind part of the madness, the person she had spent many salacious nights with, must have left a mental scar or two.

 

I don't know how to fix the damage. Maybe time. Maybe never.

 

But I do know what I almost lost.

 

“I want to tell you something, even if it's a little weird.” I hesitate, but it needs to be out in the open.

 

She gives me a tired half-smile. “Go for it, genie.”

 

For a moment, it's like we're back in my bedroom. I resist running my hand through her hair, because I doubt I will be able to stop myself from going further.

 

“I love you, Syd.”

 

“I know.” Her expression lightens. “You told me already.”

 

I lean back against the headboard. Syd is smart, and all the grooming from her family works in my favor. She understands me. I'm not quite sure how that stacks up in romance, but I was already flunking out anyway.

 

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