Jinn

  Copyright © 2018 Caged Fantasies Publications

  Written by Jessica Cage

  Edited by There for You Editing Services

  Cover Art by Solidarity Graphics

  Book design by Inkstain Design Studio

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1720914974

  ISBN-13: 978-1720914976

  To my father, though you aren’t here with me now,

  I know that you watch over me.

  I love you, for as long as the sun rises to kiss the sky,

  and for an eternity after it fades.

  Thank you for picking up a copy of Jinn, the first book of the Immortalem Series. I know you’re going to love it! As a show of my gratitude, and excitement to have you as a reader, I have a special gift waiting at the end of this book!

  Happy Reading!

  JESSICA CAGE

  “I wish for you to be free!”

  At the time, those were the sweetest words he’d ever heard. A wish for his freedom, granted his release from the prison of the bottle. It was what he wanted for so long, ever since the moment he was sentenced to inhabit the vessel, only to gain freedom to grant wishes. When their wishes were used up, or the vessel was simply lost, it was back to the bottle until another soul deemed worthy should find it. They were all so selfish—get their wishes and then they were done, off to live their lives with whatever riches they’d inevitably asked for. It was the same each time. Wish for love, wish for money, wish for power. That was what humans desired.

  Aladdin died, and with his last breath, like all humanly possessions, the djinn was passed on. After years of sitting on the mantel, untouched, his vessel was given to a woman. Princess Batool, Aladdin’s widow, gave it away to her handmaiden on her deathbed. A gift for years of faithful service. When he first laid eyes upon her sad face, he thought she would want to rid herself of a life a poverty. He was ready to grant her wishes of gold, castles, and love. She surprised him, though. She was unselfish, and she saw just how miserable the djinn was in his life. They became friends. She took the time to get to know him; no one else had ever done that. He told her of his life, before he was turned into a djinn by a powerful warlock out for blood. She loved him for more than just the wishes he could grant her. Neither of them believed that the wish would work, but it did. She wished him freedom from his servitude.

  He stayed with her, on her modest farm, in her modest life. She did eventually find love―she was young when Batool died and had many years of good life left ahead of her. She had four children, one of which died from an illness she wouldn’t have him take away. She knew what magic meant, what it did to the person made to use it and to the people who benefited from it. She refused to risk putting that burden on any of the people she loved. She told him God had a plan for her child, and she would not interfere. Jinn was her friend, she wanted nothing more than his comfort in a time of need. When she died, he lost the last companion he had left in life, but because of his time with her, he was left with hope that the world he knew could be a better place.

  Now, the world was at war. An all-out battle between the magical beings that dwelled in the darkness for so long. The human population had been diminished to nothing more than slaves as those who grew tired of hiding their existences rose to power.

  The world was a different place now, and he a different man.

  “When are you going to join us, Jinn?” Memories of a time long since forgotten by the world, were interrupted by the voice of a man he begrudgingly called friend. A fresh pair of beers had just touch the bar, left behind by a curvy woman who winked at Jinn and frowned at his friend. She tossed the long locks of red over her shoulder and sauntered over to the other side of the bar.

  “I told you, I’m not a part of this.” Jinn put the bottle to his lips and took a swig. The cool liquid was the refreshment he needed after traveling through the heat to meet his friend. He watched the bold woman who tended the bar. Every so often her eyes would dart to him and then away to something he knew wasn’t holding her attention. She recognized him, he could tell by the way she looked at him. There weren’t many places he could go without getting that look. He was unaligned, Switzerland in a world engulfed with war and hatred. This meant no one would mess with him, but no one trusted him either. The risk simply wasn’t worth it. If it did come to light that he was aligned with someone more powerful and they messed with him … well, it would mean their ass. Not to mention that he was in fact a djinn, powerful and no longer bound to a vessel. He required no wishes to make his magic work.

  “How can you continue to say that you aren’t a part of it? Man, you were the start of this! Can’t you see that?” Mike shook his head and focused on his breathing. He needed to calm down. When he got too excited, his words would stretch syllables in what most would find to be an unnatural way. It was a characteristic he tried to mask when not at home. Better chances of blending into the world around him when he wasn’t hissing at the end of every sentence. This wasn’t the first time he tried to convince the man to align with his side, and it wouldn’t be the last. Jinn never had the guts to tell him, if he wanted to pick a team, a band of outcast shifters wouldn’t be his first bet.

  “How was I the start of all of this shit?” Jinn placed his beer on the table and turned in his seat to give his company his full attention. He heard the bartender sigh as his arm braced his weight on the bar and the leather jacket he wore tightened around his muscles.

  “Come on, the first djinn to ever be set free, to live amongst the humans. Everyone knew who and what you were! Did you think no one else would see that, and want it for themselves? I swear, that wish, the one that got you out of that bottle for good, it was the catalyst for all of this.” Mike leaned back in his seat. “Say what you want, but yeah, you’re patient zero.”

  “You’re seriously going to sit here, drinking the beer I paid for, and try to blame this mess on me?” The world was a bleak place and it didn’t start because someone made a wish. People, both human and not, were greedy and selfish. They would do whatever it took to get what they wanted. His getting out of the bottle had no impact on that.

  “Hey, I’m not blaming you. Hell, if anything we should all be thanking you. Now we’re on top and the humans bow to us. They run and flee, as it always should have been!” The man laughed and slammed his empty bottle on the bar, signaling the waitress to bring another.

  “This is the world you wanted?” Jinn chuckled. “I think you’ve had too much to drink, buddy.” They’d had more conversations about the topic than he could count, and each time it ended the same, with Mike complaining about how the world was a shitty place and they needed to make a change.

  “Hell, it's better than the one I had before. The one I spent crawling around sewers, hiding myself in the night, and never knowing what a good life above ground was! Now I’m free to do as I please!” He stretched his arms out and winked at the woman who handed him another beer before quickly getting out of his reach.

  “You still live in the shadows, Mike. Let's be real, the only difference is now you're hiding from something much more terrifying than humans.” It was the truth. No, the slithers―shifters who turned into snakes and other reptilian creatures―weren’t banned to the sewers anymore, but they weren’t exactly accepted into society either. Their bodies, though bipedal and human like, were covered in scales. Some had green tones, others, like Mike, were more fortunate; he could almost pass for normal, if you didn’t make it a point to look too closely at him. In a dark bar, after a few drinks, no one could see the difference. It made their little meetings a lot easier to accomplish.

  “Hiding? Me? No. Hell, I'm right here, aren't I?” He smiled as he lifted his fourth beer to his lips.

  “Yes, you are … in a hole in the wall bar in the mi
ddle of nowhere, that you chose. How about next time we do this, we meet at RJ’s?” He challenged him with the name of a popular bar in the inner city. Both knew that Mike would never make it past the outer rim before he was caught and either given the boot or put in jail, depending on which of the fairy patrol found him.

  “Look, that's beside the point. We're getting off topic. When are you going to join the cause?” Mike pushed the beer bottle around the bar top. He was nearing his limit and needed to keep his wits for the conversation.

  “The only cause that I have is my own, so it would seem I’m all joined up.”

  “You know, partnering with us would actually help you in that.” Mike gave him the same look he’d given him whenever they played spades together―it was a look that said he had an ace up his sleeve and wasn’t afraid to use it.

  “How exactly will joining a bunch of outcasts and rebels help me?” He launched the low blow, knowing it would piss Mike off, but was surprised to find he kept his cool, nodded his head, and smiled. Yeah, he had a one two punch coming.

  “Us outcasts know a lot about what goes on inside the hives. Each one of these new bordered lands that we aren’t allowed to cross into, we were once a part of them. Hell, some of us still are. Everyone has their dirty little secrets and some of them are covered in scales. We have inside info, floor plans. Secret passages. You scratch our back, and well, we’ll return the favor.” He pulled an envelope from the pocket of his worn jacket and slid it across the bar to Jinn. “Trust me, what’s inside here will make you change your mind.”

  “Yeah, no thanks,” he said without looking at the envelope, and got up to leave. “Besides, I’m not on the shit list with you, I can go in and out of wherever I damn well please.”

  “You and I both know that that is far from the truth. No one is out to get you, but not everyone is welcoming you with open arms.” Mike laid his hand on the shoulder of the fleeing man, stopping his exit. When Jinn turned to him, he picked up the envelope from the bar and placed it in his hand. “Take it.” Jinn looked at his friend and chose to humor him. He placed the envelope in his pocket, shook his head, and turned to walk away. “One of these days you're gonna take me up on my offer!” Mike shouted after him as he pushed his way out of the heavy bar door.

  His prized possession, an Indian, Chief Dark Horse motorcycle done in onyx with accents in ice blue, roared as he pulled away from the bar, leaving behind Mike and all the peering eyes. The tires kicked up the dirt into the face of the man who waved and gazed longingly at the bike he’d never be able to lay a hand on—it was an unwritten rule. Being one of the last ones ever made, the classic was something most envied. Good thing they had the smarts to fear the owner.

  As he drove away he thought of the man who handed him the envelope in his pocket. Mike was a friend regardless of his status in life, even if the rest of the world said that he was the scum of the earth. They’d met years ago, when the first of the wars with the humans began. Mike was seconds from death, and there was a nuclear bomb headed their way. Jinn couldn’t help himself, he saved the man who, when they first met, told him that they would be friends for a very long time. If he’d known then what that really meant, he might have reconsidered his actions.

  The world was an ugly place. When the supernatural world revealed, everyone knew the shit was going to hit the fan, and it did … repeatedly. As it became clear that the human population wasn’t just going to share their world with these new creatures, there was only one way it could all go. War. The humans tried their best to fight back, resulting in nuclear warfare that destroyed much of the habitable lands. People like Mike, his snake-like friend, stayed far from civilization for fear of being either exposed to those they betrayed, or caught in the crossfires of another disagreement. They’d learned that the outskirts, those lands deemed unfit for even the most trivial version of a quality life, were their safest place to dwell.

  Jinn, not wanting to be confused with siding with the fairies of the inner city, stayed just before the outskirts. Far enough from the general population, but not so far that he couldn't enjoy the finer things in life. He had no enemies, but he wasn’t exactly flush with friends either. There were few, those he collected along the way, but most died, either casualties of war or simply old age. Not all died, some simply betrayed him, wanting nothing more than to use him for his power. Because of one too many betrayals, he learned to keep to himself.

  For a long time, he created his own paradise. After roaming the earth, encountering some of the worst people he could imagine, he retreated, and gave up on the hope for a better world. He didn’t want to be around humans, those who wanted nothing more than to have him grant their wishes. No longer able to force him to do their will, they resorted to bargaining, bribery, and some of the lowest forms of trading he’d ever heard of. In time it made him sick to his stomach. To escape this, Jinn crafted a world all his own. It was a simple place, but it made him happy. A farm where cows roamed, grazing on grass that grew abundantly. There were animals of all sorts, innocent, only taking what they needed to survive, never more. Each morning he woke up to a beautiful sunrise, and each night he fell asleep watching the moon kiss the sky and hearing the hum of the woman he loved. She wasn’t with him, but the memory of her voice would never fade from his mind.

  It was easy to hide, but in time he became bored with the things his magic created. He wanted companionship, outside of animals who were less than great for stimulating conversations. The memory of the voice that once brought him comfort became something to haunt him. Each time, he felt guilt, anger, shame, for what happened to her. He tortured himself with it for far too long and eventually realized that if he didn’t leave his designed world, he would lose his mind.

  When he returned to Earth, back to reality, so much had changed. To him he’d been gone for just a few years, but it had been much longer, centuries in fact. Gone was the time of corsets, and men in white wigs. The women wore less fabric than he could fathom, and the men were just as … expressive with their appearances. He came out of his shell just in time to see the world go to hell in a handbasket.

  It was the 80’s. He’d missed the times of discos, he kicked himself for that, and the 40’s. If there was ever a time for a djinn to shine, those were the days. He read up on all that he could and brought himself up to date on all the wonderful and horrific things he had missed out on. So much life had passed. The world had taken leaps toward technology, and he could see that happening more and more as time passed.

  There was a different energy to the world. It didn't take long to realize that what he felt was the restless spirits of those in the supernatural world. They were all still in hiding, lurking in the shadow, being sure not to be discovered, but an uprising was coming. He could sense it in the air. It was another thirty years before the first exposure, thirty years before their world would be revealed to the humans. It was fifty years before they would take over, following a twenty-year war, the first of which, all human population fought together. He had no idea how far it would go or how ugly things would get once they’d crossed that line … no one did.

  Though he was back, with the way things were, he decided it best to keep a low profile. Odds were that no one would recognize him, but there were immortals, a few he’d run into before he slipped away to his own paradise. They would know him. If they were still around, there was no doubt that they would come for him if they found out he’d come out of hiding. He thought about changing his appearance, but he liked the way he looked. How could he take away from his six-foot four-inch broad frame? How could he fathom diminishing the muscles, or fading out the melanin in his skin? His appearance was the last thing that kept him grounded—looking in the mirror and seeing the face of a man who wanted nothing more than a good, simple life. It reminded him of who he really was, not the person they wanted him to be. Instead of the tall afro of reddish curls he once had, he sported a low cut that paired well with the full beard at his face. He’d later grow his
hair back out, missing the length of it, but at the time the close cut helped him blend in a bit better.

  His first encounter after returning, was with an older human woman named Claire. He remembered her well—light skin, dark hair, and a smile that brought him back to his childhood. She looked so much like his mother, he nearly asked her if she knew who her ancestors were. Perhaps there was some relation between the two of them. She’d sat next to him on a park bench, overlooking a small manmade pond. He was contemplating the world, and what his place would be in it now that he had returned. He looked over to find her smiling face, eyes focused on the ducks dancing across the surface of the pond.

  “You look lost, young man,” she spoke to him when he continued to watch her and not speak.

  “The world, it’s so different now.” He sighed, taking his eyes from her and joining her in watching the family of ducks.

  “Different, from what exactly?” She smiled. “World’s been the same as long as I’ve known it. Different faces, different people running the show, but it's all the same.”

  “I remember it so much quieter than this, simpler.”

  “You one of them?” She squinted her eyes, studying his face, and shook her head. “You don’t seem like a vampire.”

  “Vampire?” It shocked him that she spoke the word so matter of factly, as if it were a common topic of conversation.

  “Yeah, blood suckers. They’re all around here. Reason why I have a daily dose of vervain and garlic smoothie.” She laughed. “Bite me if you wanna, and you’re gonna burn!”

  “Sounds delicious.” He chuckled, knowing very well the concoction couldn’t have been a palatable one.

  “Tastes more like cat piss, but it keeps me safe. They can smell it on me, and they steer away. You, I don't know what you are, but you aren’t a vampire. Your soul is quieter, your spirit less frantic.”