Page 153 of Home to the Hollow

A narrowed eyed glare from Israshoulddeter me, but it doesn’t. She detests when I get involved in the ‘politics of others’, and performing a show such as tonight puts her in a foul mood for days. My gifts should not be squandered on those who are not useful to my family or my business, in her opinion. Luckily for me, Isra does not get to decide when and where I extend my generosity, and she will fall in line as she always does—albeit angrily.

“Amiri, you know we risk exposure every time you decide to wander through supe society like the fictional carpenter, bestowing blessings to the unfortunate,” thesilachides. “Security for last minute shows consumes me and I have more pertinent concerns to address if you plan to extend your visit to the Cantwell Farm as you’ve proposed.”

My eyes flash with irritation and she backs away slowly. “Isra, your council is always valued, but at this moment, you are overstepping. Lead me to the entrance; my call time grows imminent while we dither over decisions that have been made.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” she replies, ducking her head in submission.

Fuck, I hate doing that, but arguing this point with her is getting tiring.

My young assistant takes point, guiding us to the stage right entrance without a word. In his comparatively short tenure, he’s learned to stay out of the middle with my captain and I because it never ends well for him. His fealty is to me, but when Isra is not being unreasonable, he feels compelled to agree with both of us. That lands him on both of our bad sides, and as such, he politely declared himself Switzerland a decade ago. No amount of coaxing will yield an answer from the werehyena, and we’ve both tried.

I shake my head as the lights go down. No more brooding over my staff or anything else—it’s time to gather my power and perform. Closing my eyes, I rub my hands together slowly then lift them to my lips. A soft puff of air sends smoke spiraling out onto the stage and I follow it with a snap of my fingers. The lightning that cracks over the audience draws excited gasps, and I smile to myself.

Even supes love to be surprised.

My form dissipates into a dark plum colored smoke and when I reappear, I’m on stage. I give the audience a prideful grin as I raise my hands to encourage their applause. The apprehension and excitement in the air feed my natural abilities as well as make it easier to locate the signatures of the kind of people I will choose to invite on stage. When the typical hollering and whistles finally die down, I unbutton my cuffs and roll my sleeves up. It drives womenwildfor some reason and the whispered adulation is audible as I continue to play to their emotions.

Suddenly a spike of derision fills my senses, and I’m delighted to find that it’s coming from the lost one I’ve been hoping to meet. I disappear again, drawing gasps from the crowd, and when I reappear, I’m ready to work. I’ve found my first wish, and I cannot wait to delve into her consciousness.

“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.” I smile again, hoping to put my intended target at ease. “My name is Dhameer Mirza Al Sharqi and I will grant your deepest desires.”

Like clouds parting after the rain, the aura of the lost one shines from a table near the back. Her frustration and disdain are filling it with dark, angry hues, and I grin. This will be quite amusing, I think. She knows nothing of our world and everything I do will be suspect as if I’m part of some human magician’s act. I am going to enjoy this immensely.

“There! You! The girl who cannot be arsed to pay attention to my magnificent show. You will be the first participant,” I call out.

Of course, I have no idea if she was talking over me, but it seems likely.

Her friends seem disinclined to help her squirm out of my grasp, and when she stands, a curtain of raven hair is the first thing I see. She stomps up to the stage looking like she’s going to rip me a new one if she can figure out how. I beckon her, anxious to meet the ball of fire that has the attention of the entire room as she makes her way across the stage. When she finally comes within reach, I turn to the audience, addressing them to keep up appearances.

“I know nothing about this woman—save she has no patience for prideful wretches such as myself.” There are titters echoing across the room and the woman I picked crosses her arms over her chest. I’m not sure if it’s possible for her to be more annoyed with me, but I believe her ire is increasing by the second. I walk 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.”

“If you say so, dude,” is her only response.

“A skeptic! How wonderful!” I clap my hands and give the crowd a knowing expression. “Sit down, Miss…?”

“Whitley. Jolene Whitley.”

My eyes widen as I watch her settle on the chair. This is the woman who will be assisting in training my treasured horse, and the topic of many discussions since my arrival in town. I pause for a moment to study the lush curves accentuated by her jacket dress and the thick, fishnet covered thighs she has crossed as she waits impatiently. When I finally meet her gaze, a rush of energy comes barreling into my chest and I almost lose my composure.

Almost.

I clear my throat, tucking that knowledge away for later. “A lovely name, to be sure. If you could close your eyes and try to relax, I will ask you a few more questions.”

Jolene closes her eyes, but she doesn’t seem happy about it. “Okay.”

The thrumming of my power in my veins as I walk around her slowly is undeniable. It takes several quiet moments before her posture relaxes, but when it does, her walls come down as well. I swallow hard, watching her delicate features as the energy inside of me pulses at the sight of her. I must be so very careful… now that I know who she is, I cannot allow myself to treat her any differently than I would any other supe or I’ll get dragged before the Council.

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

The sadness wafts from her in heavy waves and I shudder as she shrugs. “I don’t know. My memory is an issue.”

Making another circle around her as I watch her face, I try again. “Can you tell me what makes you happy?”

Another tsunami of emotion cascades through her aura and the colors show a rainbow of conflicting feelings as she thinks about my question. When the waterfall of trippy shades stops, her aura glows a golden hue. “My new life. My friends and family make me happy.”

Coming to a stop in front of her, I look down at her face, my breath catching as the sensation of home floods me. In the thousands of years I’ve existed on this planet, I’ve never felt a kinship this deep and I’m shocked to realize that my gut recognizes it. This woman is not ready for the things coming, and I cannot make an exception for her. Some lessons must be learned on your own, and hers will be bittersweet, but destiny is rarely easy.

I gather the energy within that allows me to manifest her stated desire, watching the magic swirl around her as the crowd gasps. Leaning in, I murmur softly, “Then a family you shall have. It is done.”

---