Bottled Page 12

  My head reels while the room settles. I’m back, thank the heavens.

  I scarcely have time to notice Nathan isn’t in the vicinity, when footsteps clunk in the kitchen and a small figure darts through the archway.

  Sneakers. Messy hair. Nathan’s little brother, David.

  His attention snaps up from a sandwich he’s holding, and his fawn eyes go startled. He stops, shoes squeaking on the floor. “What’re you doing here?”

  “I, um—I’m visiting Nathan.”

  He notes my saltwater-dampened dress, the sand clinging to my legs and sandals. He starts to speak, when Nathan rushes in from the kitchen.

  “Adeelah, great to see you,” he says.

  David frowns. “How’d she get in? The door’s locked.”

  “No, it’s not.” Over David’s head, Nathan gives a quick nod toward the door.

  I respond to his mute wish in an instant. By the time David runs over to check, it’s unlocked.

  He glares at the knob, then back at me. “Do you have a key or something?”

  “No,” Nathan answers for me. “I unlocked it when I took the garbage out. Eat your lunch.”

  David takes a savage bite of his sandwich, regarding me with narrowed eyes.

  “How was the beach?” Nathan asks me.

  “Splendid for the most part.” I’m near-giddy from my time with Karim, but not anxious to reveal my decision. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

  Nathan picks up the butterfly necklace and hands it to me. “Don’t forget this.”

  “Ah, thanks for the reminder.”

  A devious smile spreads across David’s angelic face. He takes another bite and talks around the bread. “Nathan’s got a girlfriend, Nathan’s got a—”

  “The necklace isn’t from me, you little rat.” Nathan lunges like he’s going to swat him, and David scampers up the stairs and disappears.

  I move closer to Nathan, who has given up his mock chase, and talk low. “I thought Friday was your day off from child watching.”

  “It is. Aunt Jean had a meltdown and dropped him off early. Did you run into Faruq?”

  “Thank the stars, no, but I have some unfortunate news to share with you.”

  He tenses. “Let me guess. The guy’s storming into Bandon tomorrow with a set of razor-sharp knives, or else blackmailing you to hand yourself over to him.”

  I try to object to the latter accusation, but my jaw locks up. As usual, the law of the bottle won’t let me lie to my master. “It’s blackmail in a way, yes. And since I told Faruq my previous master is deceased, that could shorten his hunt. With modern phones and tracking abilities, he might not even need to travel to Hawaii before he comes here.”

  Nathan mutters a string of heated words my Omaa would’ve walloped me for.

  “He’s all that and more,” I say. “However, we may be able to prevent his arrival. Karim and I have worked out a plan for you and your family’s safety.”

  “I’m not sure I want to hear it.”

  His expression and tone carry such distress, regret lances through me. He suspects the worst. Perhaps the truth. I’m not looking forward to carrying out the plan to hand over my bottle. My voice drops to a murmur. “I don’t wish to tell you, either.”

  A sticky missile sails out from the stair landing above us and smacks the floor by Nathan’s feet. It’s the remainder of David’s sandwich. It oozes brown and reddish-violet alongside the mangled bread. The smell of peanuts drifts into my nose.

  David peers over the railing. “Oops. Dropped it. Now you can’t get all smoochy-smoochy down there with your girlfriend.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend, and you’re not supposed to throw food,” Nathan says. As he starts up the stairs, ordering David to clean up the mess, the boy squeals and takes off.

  “Enjoy your pizza and movie tonight,” I call after Nathan.

  “See you tomorrow morning when I have more time and no pesky audience,” he says over his shoulder, regret saturating his words.

  I walk to the door, open and close it noisily to make it sound as if I’ve left, and shrivel into smoke.

  Once I’m Inside, the events of the afternoon engulf me, haunt me. Karim and I running on the beach. His parting words. How he leaned in closer as if to give me a kiss, his lips so close to mine. His mouth held the scent of his mojito, a blend of lime and mint, rum, and an aching sweetness. Wonderful, and at the same time, agonizing. So near to a kiss, yet so far away.

  Afterward, what in the realms beyond happened during my return transfer? It’s doubtful it was from waiting too long before coming back. Lingering hasn’t ever caused a lethargic transfer before. A former master once instructed me to prepare her a dwelling on a remote rocky mountaintop, and I was away for an entire day.

  Perhaps I was just tired from running on the beach for so long. I’m not used to such lengthy physical exertion. There has to be a rational reason for it.

  I press my fingertips against my temples and lean back against the curved wall of my compartments. Tomorrow I have to tell Nathan he has to let me go. In two short days he’ll cease to be my master and I’ll never see him again.

  I’ll be in bondage to Faruq instead. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.

  But my wishes don’t count.

  Chapter 14

  When Nathan summons me next, I find myself seated with him in his Mustang, the windows fogged inside and dripping with rain outside. In this grayness, we could be anywhere. The skies have opened up and drenched everything with its tears.

  “I thought it was supposed to be summertime.” I try to peer through the murk.

  Nathan waves a hand at the gray and starts the engine. “Welcome to the Oregon coast.”

  I honestly can’t tell whether he’s telling the truth, or teasing. My confusion clears up as thin metallic arms arise to swish and beat the water from the front window. Forceful warm air blows from slots by our faces. In short order, the world comes into view. The car sits in a parking area by a brick building, with lettering above us that spells out “YMCA.” We’re still in Bandon.

  “Nice camouflage, huh?” Nathan says. “You appeared inside this foggy car, and no one saw you.”

  “That’s convenient.”

  He grabs his backpack with my bottle in it. I wait while he ducks into the building. Across the street his beggar friend Ted stands in the downpour, shirt and pants soaked. His handmade sign sags. Cars pass him by. No one wants to stop in this deluge, not even to do a kind deed.

  My gaze drifts down the street. The apprehension of my upcoming conversation with Nathan sits in my stomach like a stone. After this weekend, Faruq will be my master. I don’t think I can bear it.

  Nathan returns to the Mustang. “All safe. Man, we should go somewhere drier today.”

  I say nothing. Wet or dry, our discussion will not be pleasant.

  Exiting the parking area, Nathan groans. “There’s Ted, and he’s sopping wet. I gotta do something. Please make him a waterproof coat. I bet he slept outside last night without one.”

  I ignore the residual fatigue and achings I woke up with, and fashion Ted an appropriate covering mere seconds before Nathan rolls down his window.

  “Ted!” Nathan calls. “We have a coat for you. Have you eaten today?”

  The man shuffles over and peers in, first at Nathan and then at me. Rain drips from his large nose and stubbled chin. “Hello, Nathan. Hello, pretty lady. Nope. No breakfast yet. But I’m workin’ on the funds for it.”

  Nathan points down the street. “We’ll treat you at the diner if you want to hop in.”

  “Sure!”

  In another minute, Ted is tucked into his coat, seated in the small back seat, and introduced to me. His yellowish teeth chatter as we drive. A foul stench emanates from his body. It’s obvious he’s been unwashed for quite some time, a condition even the rain hasn’t helped. When we reach the diner, it’s warm and bright and filled with pleasant aromas. Ted orders food from a freckle-faced server, e
xcuses himself, and shambles off to the restroom.

  Nathan whips out his phone and starts tapping away on it. “Maybe I can’t get him a job, but I’m gonna get him a place to live. Let’s see…this one’s too big. That one’s a piece of flippin’ junk. Ah, perfect. Here’s a small house on a quarter-acre lot. Can you set him up a bank account and put enough funds in there for two years of food, water, and electricity?”

  “He may spend it on other things,” I warn.

  “Ted doesn’t seem to have bad drinking or gambling habits, just bad luck. But even if he does, at least he’ll have a dry roof over his head for a while,” Nathan says. “It’d be great if you could speed things up by having the house sale already done. And have food and dishes already in the cupboards. Even better, fix any repairs and pay the property taxes.”

  “Whatever you wish.” It’s a complex order considering my ailing health. Nevertheless, I can’t disobey. My power swells inside me as if it has a mind of its own. I brace myself and set to work, selecting the total amount of money and other details from his mind. Numbers fly, signatures scrawl. Signs of “For Sale” whisk from the yard. Moderate repairs of electricity, roofing, and plumbing are completed, the fees paid. Boxes of food burst into existence. Somebody, somewhere, will swear they have memory problems when they see the evidence of a house sale and don’t recall the transaction itself.

  I change facts and things, not people.

  Ted resumes his seat a few minutes before the serving girl places a steaming plate of eggs and crispy meat strips on the table. Nathan and I drink something he calls hot chocolate. The creamy liquid warms my throat, sweet and nutlike in flavor. It’s like a hot, melted Wefler bar. Ted’s hands shake while he eats. I perceive he’s missed more than one meal, and his waves of hunger slam into me like fists. His temperament comes across as a mix of bleak, sincere, and hopeful.

  “Don’t eat too quickly,” I tell him. “Your stomach may not be used to this much food.”

  He swallows, his eyes alert beneath his unruly eyebrows. “I’m tryin’ not to wolf it down. Thanks for your kind thought, Adeelah.”

  Though down on his luck, he’s polite. I rather like this beggar man.

  “No luck on the job hunting these days?” Nathan asks him.

  “Nope,” Ted says. “No one wants to hire someone who can’t get around well. Even for a sittin’-type job, they want me to have a reliable car and a permanent address. I keep tellin’ them I could get a ride to work from my friend Lonny, down at the docks. He has a motorcycle.”

  Nathan shifts next to me and fiddles with his empty cup. “I hope you can land a job where your knee doesn’t matter, Ted. Meanwhile, I’ve inherited a bunch of money from a…um, godfather, that I’d like to share with you. I hope this doesn’t sound weird or offensive, but I bought you a small house about nine blocks away and set you up with a bank account.”

  “You’re pullin’ my leg,” Ted says with a chuckle. “My bad leg, at that.”

  “I’m not.” Nathan’s earnestness shines on his face. “There’s a house furnished and waiting if you want it. I got it just for you.”

  “I don’t want to use your inheritance, son,” Ted exclaims. “It’s yours, not mine.”

  I like this man even more. He’s not greedy or grasping. “Nathan’s a kindhearted soul,” I say. “Please accept his gift. He’d love to help you out. You can’t stay outside in the cold when winter starts. This summer rain and fog are miserable enough.”

  An obvious war goes on in Ted’s mind, by the way his eyes dart and his shoulders hunch. “It’s too much and I don’t deserve it. It’s a whole lot more than a few bucks handed to me on a street corner.”

  “It’d make me feel great if you said yes,” Nathan says. “Think of it as a favor to me. It’s no good having a lot of money if I can’t spend it the way I want. My family and I have almost everything we need. Food, two cars, a house. You don’t have any of that.”

  Ted’s eyes well up. “You’re too generous. I won’t ever be able to repay you.”

  “You won’t need to,” Nathan says. “Just don’t tell anyone how much I gave you or that it came from me. Please. Everyone will think I’ve been selling drugs or robbing a bank. This is supposed to be a secret inheritance. Not even my mom knows.”

  Ted laughs, a gravelly sound that rumbles up from his chest. He shakes his head as if he can’t believe his change in fortune. “Will do. Don’t want you gettin’ arrested.”

  After we finish, we leave the diner and drive Ted to his new home. The address I recite from my memory of the transaction leads us to an older house with shutters and a seagull plaque beside the door. Cement steps lead to an enclosed porch.

  Ted lets out a gasp. “This is wonderful. Looks comfy.”

  “He needs his key, Adeelah,” Nathan says. “Oh yeah, and his bank card.”

  I make haste to conjure a key and a shiny card into my palm.

  “Bless you,” Ted says, gripping Nathan’s hand over the seat back. The veins stand out by his knuckles. He reaches as if to clasp my hand too, but I offer him the key and card instead.

  “Blessings to you, and enjoy your new home,” I say with a smile, amazed I’m able to, considering how trampled I feel inside and out. This kind deed may end up being the one bright spot in my day.

  “Thanks so much.” His powerful wave of gratitude washes over me.

  Ted limps through the rain to the porch. Nathan and I watch him open the front door, wave to us, and go inside.

  Nathan starts up the Mustang. “That did my heart good.”

  “You’re very sweet,” I say, and mean it.

  Pink creeps across his face. “Thanks.”

  And now, I hope we can have our discussion. If we can be alone, that is. I don’t know his Saturday schedule. “What’s David doing today?”

  “Pouting. He’s at the shop with Mom. He wanted to go the game park south of town to pet a baby leopard, but Mom nixed that idea since it’s raining. She was actually going to close the shop for a day to take him. They’ll try again next week.”

  “Then I assume we’re free to talk.”

  “Yeah. Let’s get this depressing conversation over with.” He steers the Mustang into its place in his driveway, switches off the engine, and leans between the seats to dig around in the back floorboard. He produces a faded tan umbrella, opens it outside the car, and holds it over me while we walk to the house. It’s gentlemanly of him. When we reach the porch, I flash him a faint smile. He gives me a similar one. It’s obvious both our minds are elsewhere.

  Inside, I perch on the sofa and fold my hands. It’s time to share the distressing news. I wish there were another way of solving this dilemma.

  Nathan sinks into an adjacent chair. “So…that psycho Faruq is going to kill me if I don’t hand over your bottle.”

  I clench my hands tighter. “Yes. Or harm your family.”

  “And I’m guessing even if we went off to live somewhere else, we still wouldn’t be safe.”

  “Your assumption is correct. He’d hunt you down as long as I’m in your possession.”

  He folds his arms, muscles taut against his chest. “I don’t trust him. He could kill me or my family after I give him what he wants.”

  “That’s why we’re going to leave it at another location before he discovers where you live. Once I tell Karim these new whereabouts, I’ll wait Inside for Faruq to summon me. He shouldn’t attempt to find you after that—he’d have no reason to. Your family should be safe.”

  “I don’t like the idea of that psycho being your master or blackmailing you by using me. It’s my fault you’re in this mess, since I insisted on coming with you to The Bahamas. And I don’t want you using your powers to finalize that elixir if it’s as bad as you say.”

  “I’m afraid that’s unavoidable.” I need to get him off this subject, fast. I’m not discussing the potion recipe with him. “We don’t have much time. We have to relocate my bottle before tomorrow night, since I’m to mee
t Karim at the café in The Bahamas on Monday morning.”

  “That’s…soon. And I take it wherever we drop off the bottle, I’ll need to transport along with you so I can carry it. Then I can wish myself back here.”

  “Correct. We should place it in a remote location where someone can’t stumble across it before Faruq arrives. Or we could put it in a locked safe and tell Karim the combination.”

  Nathan leaps up and starts pacing. “I don’t want it left anywhere near Bandon. The farther away, the better.” He spins to face me, and halts. “Exactly what is this horrible recipe Faruq’s involving you with?”

  I freeze, while my stomach roils. “That’s beside the point. After the exchange, I’m going to come up with an idea to rid myself of Faruq as my master. Even if I can’t, my services with the elixir won’t be required more than once every century.”

  He meets my eye and traps my gaze. “If it weren’t for trying to keep me safe, you could arrange to see Karim on the side without being involved with Faruq or the elixir.”

  Stars help me. He has such a deep sense of honor and an overwhelming desire to protect me. “No, that wouldn’t work. Karim would age and die without the elixir. He’d be subject to injury and illness as a normal human. In fact, he could be injured and die at any moment now, since the last batch expired four months ago.” My heart quickens at the thought. We must hurry to get this trade completed.

  “So what’s in the elixir? It sounds ultra-powerful.”

  “I don’t care to tell you the recipe, Nathan.”

  “I need to know what you’ll be forced to do. Tell me, please.”

  I bury my face in my hands. His statement is at a wish-level intensity. I have no choice but to inform him. My hands slide to clutch my head, and I stare down at the carpet. I can’t meet his eyes while saying this. It’ll be agonizing enough to imagine his reaction.

  “It involves the killing of others,” I say. “One hundred years of extended life requires one hundred years extracted from other human beings. Their blood is drained, their ages totaled. Their life forces are stolen from them at the moment of their death. My job is to give final sealing power to their combined blood for the potion.”