Ricky sighed with pleasure as the water beat down on his back. There was nothing like a hot shower after several hours in a smoky club. He scrunched his eyes shut and scrubbed shampoo into his hair.
He felt the change in temperature as the bathroom door opened, and he flailed about in alarm. Could a man defend himself with just a bar of soap and a bottle of baby shampoo?
“Hi, Ricky.”
“We hope we’re not disturbing you.”
Ricky tried to wipe the suds out of his eyes. “Kalila? Nevin?”
“Me, too,” said Bo.
“And me and Lazaro,” Vic added, “If the rest of them will let us in.”
“I got here first,” Nevin said in indignation. “But you can sit with me on the counter.”
“Never mind,” Kalila told them. “I’ll conjure chairs.”
Ricky shoved his wet hair off his forehead and poked his head around the shower curtain. “Wait a minute. This is my bathroom; my alone time. Is nothing sacred?”
Kalila conjured a velvet folding chair and sat down. “I’m a Zoroastrian, remember? Fire is sacred to me, not water. But carry on with what you’re doing, if it’s that important to you.”
“Yes, please continue your water ritual,” Nevin said from his perch on the countertop. “We promise not to take up too much of your time.”
“Take up my time with what?”
“An idea we had,” Bo said, with a leer that suggested he could see through the shower curtain. “Although I’m starting to get some new ideas. This room is a little crowded. Mind if I join you?”
Ricky ducked back behind the shower curtain. “You guys never cease to amaze me. Out. All of you. Now.”
There was a startled silence on the other side of the curtain, then Ricky heard the soft chittering of whispered conversation over the pounding of the water.
“Look, human,” Vic finally said. “We have a brilliant idea and we took time out of a night’s lurking and prowling to come here and discuss it with you, so the least you could do is listen.”
“You really aren’t being very friendly,” Nevin pointed out.
“This isn’t about being friendly, or having ideas, or…” Ricky paused. What good would it to do to explain? “I’m almost done, okay? Wait for me in the living room like normal people, and I’ll be there in a minute. Promise.”
Ricky heard grumbles from Vic and Lazaro and a sniff of annoyance from Kalila as they filed out.
The last set of footsteps paused near the door. “Ricky?”
“Go away, Bo.”
“I just wanted to say, 'nice ass.'”
Ricky grabbed the soap and threw it at him.
Alone again, with the steaming water beating down around him, Ricky tried to regain the sense of peace and relaxation that had been stolen from him, but the moment was gone, as frail and fleeting as a soap bubble.
He rinsed his hair under the water one last time. What did the demons want that was so important? They had an idea? Dear lord, if it was like any of their others, it was probably something ridiculous, illegal, or immoral. Maybe all three.
He reached for the faucet and shut off the water. Well, nothing was impossible. Maybe this time it was something brilliant. He opened the shower curtain to reach for a towel and found Kalila grinning at him. When did she sneak back in? Damnable djinn with her conjuring ways and—
She handed him a warm, fluffy towel.
Okay, so sometimes demons had good ideas.
“You got me,” Ricky said. “Come clean and tell me what you want.”
Maelstrom Extra: Djinn Dreams
Saturday, February 27, 2010
reviews (Comments): 5
Posted by
Maelstrom
Kalila struggled out of Ricky’s embrace. “It's important that I become famous.”
“I know.” He pushed the sheets aside and tried to pull her back to him, but she wedged a pillow between them.
“You don’t really believe it.”
“Of course I do.” He tried to move the pillow, but she had done something magical to it and he couldn't make it budge. “I wouldn’t be managing you if I didn’t think you have what it takes.”
“Liar. You manage my band because I manufactured a contract with your blood on it, not because you have any faith in my dreams.”
Ricky sighed in frustration and flopped onto his back. What was it about immortals and their lousy sense of timing? “I don’t know why you want to talk about this now.”
“It's never a bad time to talk about things that are important.”
He rolled over and looked her in the eye. “You got me on board at the beginning by forcing me to be your manager, but I believe in you now. You’re going to make it.”
Kalila gazed at him with suspicion. “You don’t mean that. Or do you?”
“You’re beautiful and talented. Your band puts on a great show. You can make it to the top. I have every confidence in you.”
“Then why is it taking so long?”
“This isn't something you can conjure like you did that bottle of scotch earlier tonight, which I appreciated, by the way.”
“I know you like single malt.”
“Unless you want to take a shortcut and win fans by magic, you'll just have to keep working hard. It'll happen, though. Really.”
Ricky tried again to move the pillow and found the spell had been removed. He tossed it aside and pulled Kalila close, forgetting as he lost himself in the heat of her body that she was a djinn and he a mere mortal. He, of all people, understood that sometimes the biggest and most improbable dreams came true.
“I know.” He pushed the sheets aside and tried to pull her back to him, but she wedged a pillow between them.
“You don’t really believe it.”
“Of course I do.” He tried to move the pillow, but she had done something magical to it and he couldn't make it budge. “I wouldn’t be managing you if I didn’t think you have what it takes.”
“Liar. You manage my band because I manufactured a contract with your blood on it, not because you have any faith in my dreams.”
Ricky sighed in frustration and flopped onto his back. What was it about immortals and their lousy sense of timing? “I don’t know why you want to talk about this now.”
“It's never a bad time to talk about things that are important.”
He rolled over and looked her in the eye. “You got me on board at the beginning by forcing me to be your manager, but I believe in you now. You’re going to make it.”
Kalila gazed at him with suspicion. “You don’t mean that. Or do you?”
“You’re beautiful and talented. Your band puts on a great show. You can make it to the top. I have every confidence in you.”
“Then why is it taking so long?”
“This isn't something you can conjure like you did that bottle of scotch earlier tonight, which I appreciated, by the way.”
“I know you like single malt.”
“Unless you want to take a shortcut and win fans by magic, you'll just have to keep working hard. It'll happen, though. Really.”
Ricky tried again to move the pillow and found the spell had been removed. He tossed it aside and pulled Kalila close, forgetting as he lost himself in the heat of her body that she was a djinn and he a mere mortal. He, of all people, understood that sometimes the biggest and most improbable dreams came true.
Maelstrom Extra: Amperage
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
reviews (Comments): 7
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Maelstrom
He heard it before the elevator reached the basement. As he walked toward the studio, the trembling of the walls and floor made Ricky wonder if he should turn back. His ears didn't deserve this kind of assault. Neither did anyone else's, though, and there were noise ordinances to consider.
He pushed open the door and the sound hit him like a body blow. Even his skin seemed to vibrate, and his heart felt like it was about to go into fibrillation. He waved his arms for the band’s attention, and mercifully, they stopped playing. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you need to turn it down.”
“Would you rather go in the other room and make a different kind of noise?” Bo teased. He made an obscene gesture with hips and guitar. "Rock bands are loud. If you can't handle it, maybe you're in the wrong line of work."
“That wasn't music, and you know it.” Ricky looked at Kalila. “So what’s this all about? Even the elevator was shaking.”
Kalila grinned in satisfaction. “The guy at the store said these were good amps, but we wanted to be sure.”
Vic nodded agreement. “If they couldn't generate the kind of volume he promised, we were going to take them back.”
“And eat his brain,” Lazaro added, with a thump of his bass pedal.
“I see.” Ricky glanced around the room. “I don't think you have to worry that you were sold a bill of goods. You’ll be lucky not to get a citation."
Nevin clapped his hands. "You mean like a prize?"
"No, like a ticket from a police officer."
"Oh. Human laws." Kalila shrugged and hit a few chords on her Stratocaster. "We got cited once before, I think. What was it for?"
"So-called indecency," Bo reminded her.
"No, it was public intoxication," Vic said. "As if it was my fault the girl's blood alcohol level was that high. She didn't look drunk when I bit her."
Lazaro grunted in disapproval and leaned over to adjust a cymbal. "They haven't caught me. I guess that's because I'm smart."
"I'd call it skill rather than smarts," Kalila said in frosty tones. She turned to Ricky. "As you can see, getting ticketed for noise is the least of our worries."
Ricky admitted to himself that she had a point. Besides, what could he accomplish with his meager words of human wisdom? "So we won't worry about the noise ordinances, then," he said. "But as a favor to my ears, and to everyone else who uses this building, would you turn down your amps anyway?"
Kalila moved to adjust her amp, and Bo followed suit.
"You can't deny it," Vic said, "these babies really do the job."
"If you mean make humans go deaf, I suppose they do." Ricky turned to go, but Kalila called him back.
"Did you come here for a reason, Ricky?"
He stopped, hand on the door. Why had he come to the studio? It wasn't the noise. Something about a gig? Advertising? He didn't even remember any more.
"Poor pathetic human," Vic said. "A little bit of noise makes your brain go all to pieces."
Kalila flashed a conspiratorial grin. "These amps just might've been our best buy ever."
He pushed open the door and the sound hit him like a body blow. Even his skin seemed to vibrate, and his heart felt like it was about to go into fibrillation. He waved his arms for the band’s attention, and mercifully, they stopped playing. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you need to turn it down.”
“Would you rather go in the other room and make a different kind of noise?” Bo teased. He made an obscene gesture with hips and guitar. "Rock bands are loud. If you can't handle it, maybe you're in the wrong line of work."
“That wasn't music, and you know it.” Ricky looked at Kalila. “So what’s this all about? Even the elevator was shaking.”
Kalila grinned in satisfaction. “The guy at the store said these were good amps, but we wanted to be sure.”
Vic nodded agreement. “If they couldn't generate the kind of volume he promised, we were going to take them back.”
“And eat his brain,” Lazaro added, with a thump of his bass pedal.
“I see.” Ricky glanced around the room. “I don't think you have to worry that you were sold a bill of goods. You’ll be lucky not to get a citation."
Nevin clapped his hands. "You mean like a prize?"
"No, like a ticket from a police officer."
"Oh. Human laws." Kalila shrugged and hit a few chords on her Stratocaster. "We got cited once before, I think. What was it for?"
"So-called indecency," Bo reminded her.
"No, it was public intoxication," Vic said. "As if it was my fault the girl's blood alcohol level was that high. She didn't look drunk when I bit her."
Lazaro grunted in disapproval and leaned over to adjust a cymbal. "They haven't caught me. I guess that's because I'm smart."
"I'd call it skill rather than smarts," Kalila said in frosty tones. She turned to Ricky. "As you can see, getting ticketed for noise is the least of our worries."
Ricky admitted to himself that she had a point. Besides, what could he accomplish with his meager words of human wisdom? "So we won't worry about the noise ordinances, then," he said. "But as a favor to my ears, and to everyone else who uses this building, would you turn down your amps anyway?"
Kalila moved to adjust her amp, and Bo followed suit.
"You can't deny it," Vic said, "these babies really do the job."
"If you mean make humans go deaf, I suppose they do." Ricky turned to go, but Kalila called him back.
"Did you come here for a reason, Ricky?"
He stopped, hand on the door. Why had he come to the studio? It wasn't the noise. Something about a gig? Advertising? He didn't even remember any more.
"Poor pathetic human," Vic said. "A little bit of noise makes your brain go all to pieces."
Kalila flashed a conspiratorial grin. "These amps just might've been our best buy ever."
