Free The Genie's Witch (Dirty Djinn) by Lyn Brittan Page B

much?”
    “One less mess I’ll have to clean up.”
    A grin crept across her sallow face, one he could read plain as day. She didn’t mean for him to be around to do anything. Had she learned how to kill a djinn? Perhaps, but if so, why was he still alive?
    Tig swallowed past the lump in his throat. Anything could be killed with dark magic. He preferred that to the other possibility that his mind started to fixate on: a half-death. Such a thing was common to the southern hemisphere, but only the darkest of workers knew of it. Half-death turned its victims into mindless slaves, present but unaware. He’d seen it first hand during the colonial wars and it was the only way he could think of to keep a djinn, and his power, forever.
    “Something scares you? Me? Did I put that look on your face?”
    “So a last wish and we’re done. Let’s hear it.”
    “Only because you tricked me out of one. That was a bad idea.”
    “Consider me less than sympathetic.”
    “The fact remains that I’m not exactly sure what that third one will be. The list of possible wishes is still in flux.”
    “Ergo?”
    “Here’s the thing. I’m rich as the devil now, so I may not need that wish for some time.”
    Tig looked up, resting his chin on his fists. “And therefore you intend to keep me.”
    “I’ve always wanted a pet.”
    How? He so badly wanted to ask, but if she didn’t know about half-deaths yet, he didn’t want to plant the seed. Only the laughing teenagers in the hall stopped him from killing her and his face must have said as much. She wisely stepped to the door. “We leave in three hours on the first flight in the morning.”
    “There’s no point to it, Karlin. You’re rich. You have everything you want and could ever want. Cash in the fucking ticket and be done with it.”
    She leaned against the door jam, one foot in the hall. “I’ve got a husband to ditch first.”
    “This being the man you love and hold so dear?”
    “Don’t get me wrong. I still do. He doesn’t understand what I am. Calls it a hobby. I can’t have him finding out the truth and blabbering about it. Besides, it’s my money. We’ll have to do something permanent.”

Chapter Eleven
    I t had been the worst few days of Dinah’s life. Her only bit of consolation came from the area newscasts. A local physician had been found in the woods, bloody, wounded and half-mad. In his ranting, he’d disclosed the locations of several missing women. He’d been booked, but died mysteriously in his cell. Not so mysterious to Dinah. Soon after, she’d had a few ghostly visitors. With her help, the six women went into their final peace.
    The trip out here was worth that alone. It’d also made her realize how short life was. Love, even chances at it, didn’t come often. If she had a shot, no matter how it came, she had an obligation to the universe to go for it.
    She was an idiot. But a free one and alive with time to fix things.
    Did she love Tig?
    She didn’t know, but she’d give herself the opportunity to try. She’d never had a relationship that lasted more than a month or two. Humans were fun, but temporary – there was no future in someone without magic in their lives. As for the magical creatures around Galveston, most were man sluts, girl sluts, undead, spoiled or boring.
    Tig was...well... her slut and spoiled, yes. Conceited too. But, still hers. If she wanted him.  She still had no idea what their future would look like, but did anyone? Normal people didn’t walk around knowing what would happen. They jumped, eyes slammed shut, and hoped for the best.
    So would she.
    There was that one other, small matter to consider. Djinn lived eons. Would he watch her grow old? Or would he speed his life to age with her? The fact that he was willing to do either meant everything.
    She tried his cell for the hundredth time and came up with her hundredth excuse when he didn’t answer. It was Vegas and maybe he was drunk.
    Or at a show.
    Or wrapped