Wish, H.R. Davison [historical books to read txt] 📗

I run through the house as my mom shouts my name from hallway to hurry up. I am late. Late for a meeting I don’t even want to go to. I feel like the white rabbit hopping to the Queen’s demands. “I’m here” I say. Entering the room I quickly sit down in my seat, trying not to laugh out loud at the menagerie of folks seated around the table.

The Thirteen are here together for the first time since the summons. I have always wondered why they were referred to as the Thirteen, when there are only twelve of them. Although they look seemingly ordinary they are anything but, if you look closely enough you notice that their skin radiates an otherworldly aura, almost glowing with radiant light from within. They have perfectly unflawed features in every way from their immaculate hair down to their impeccable feet. I nod at each one in turn quickly silently apologizing for my tardiness.

Glancing around the table I see Solomon here to represent the lycanthropes. Saying Solomon is beefy would be quite the understatement. He is thick across his chest, with well-muscled arms. Thick coarse hair covers most of his body in unruly sprouts. He could pass for the much larger, much more hairy version of Wolverine. I give him a quick smile, which he returns showing a multitude of razor sharp teeth.

Bertoldo is in attendance for the blood suckers, a nasty bunch. I am not sure why the Thirteen decided to allow them access to the summons. Hollywood definitely got vampires wrong. Bertoldo does not sparkle, he glowers at his prey, and he considers everything prey. He hates humanity and isn’t shy about expressing it. Translucent skin with shadows of dark bloodless veins stretches across his bony figure. His skeletal hands end in wickedly sharp claws that would be able to slice a human neck open with a flick of a wrist. I shiver with disgust as I quickly look away before he notices me staring.

Soon-ya is present to serve as emissary for the Fae. Another thing Hollywood got wrong, confusing the Fae with faeries. Doing that in real life would be the last living mistake you would ever make. Soon-ya is beautiful as always, her black hair gleaming in the light, her silver colored almond shaped eyes twinkle like diamonds, her cherry red lips puckered as if expecting a kiss at any moment. However on the other side of those perfectly sculpted lips lay tiers of needle sharp fangs ready to rip out your throat and consume your soul as you lie dying.

My family is grouped together at one end of the long table, here to represent the Djinn. Contrary to popular belief we are not smoky embodiments of wish granting magic summoned from a lamp. We are built just like humans, mostly. We grow old slower than them for one thing, heal faster, and yeah we have magic. Well I don’t yet, I will once I pass my trial. A ritual our kind has had in place for centuries before bestowing the gift upon their children, basically it is like a rite of passage into adulthood. Once we were slaves, but a contract signed thousands of years ago with the Thirteen freed us from our bonds. All we had to do was agree to help them fight when summoned, and that leads us here.

The summons took place this past spring. None of the supernatural world involved in the contracts ever thought it would actually happen. But something took place last spring that got the Thirteen all excited and worked up. They called us together to let us know to expect to the war to start soon, to train, to gather our ranks, and to dedicate our lives if need be. Of course this war has nothing to do with any of us, but everyone here or our ancestors signed blood contracts for some reason or another. Breaking a blood contract would be horrendous. I have no idea why the others are here, but my family would be slaves again and the punishment inflicted on us would be thirteen fold worse than it was before. That is enough of an incentive for my parents to dedicate my life to the cause. I tend to disagree.

“DJ, so glad you could join us. Your presence is a gift to us all.” Armaros says to me with smile. “You know my daughter?” He asks, nodding at the petite blonde sitting next to him.

Gritting my teeth I nod at him in recognition, repressing the urge to walk out of the room. It would be unwise to disrespect Armaros, the leader of the Thirteen, the commander of the Watchers, and ruler of the Fallen, very unwise indeed. “Shall we begin?” He says smiling, showing too many teeth “Let us all bow our heads in prayer on this holy day.”

The next week seems to fly by. I have had little time after school for Lilli or DJ, although DJ has made himself my shadow at school. He meets me at my locker every morning carrying my books to my first period class. He escorts me to my car every day after school. We exchange texts messages every evening. Getting to know him I wonder how Lilli could ever have let him slip from her grasp. He has been considerate about my lack of free time this week, but our first date is set for tomorrow. He tells me it is a surprise and he will pick me up at noon. I can’t wait. School has me stressed out as I work to play catch up from so much time spent not exercising my brain over the summer. I must have forgotten everything I learned last year. My dad left Wednesday morning in a frenzy of clothes and paperwork, assuring me Andy would be by Friday after school.

As soon as the bell rings I am out the door rushing to get home. I want to make sure everything is in proper order for Andy. The more in control I seem, the less he will think he has to be around. I want to prove to him I can be left to my own devices. Rushing home I pull into the driveway as a guy is getting out of Jeep. He is tall and gangly with a mop of brown hair swept off to one side. That must be Andy. Just wonderful, he beat me here. Good thing I cleaned up last night.

Meeting him at the door to the house I introduce myself. “Hi you must be Andy, I’m Kat.” I shove my car keys in my pocket so I can shake his hand.

“Err hey, yeah ummm I’m Andy.” He shakes my hand firmly. An electric shock tickles my palm when our hands make contact. A feeling of electricity surges from my hand out to every part of my body. My hands and legs start to tremble. Trying to play it cool I wipe my hand on my pants, evaluating his expression to see if he felt the same thing. He sweeps his hand through his hair and motions to the door. “Shall we?”

I give Andy a brief tour of the house. Showcasing my knowledge by pointing out all the important details likes the fire extinguisher in the kitchen, the carbon monoxide detectors and smoke alarms in each room, the water heater, and lastly the fuse box. With a final flourish I point to the door and say, “And finally there is the exit.”

“You don’t want me here, I can tell.” He says flopping down onto the couch, so much for a subtle hint. “I’m sorry but your dad asked me, and it seems like easy money. You are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself that much I can see. But seeing as how you’re stuck with me for the next couple of months we might as well be friends.” He pats the couch next to him.

The last thing I want it to be friends with this nerd. For Heaven’s sake he is wearing a tweed jacket in August and a pocket protector in his shirt. We are not going to be friends. I sit in the chair next to the couch. Sitting on the couch would have been more comfortable but I wasn’t about to let him order me around. Feeling rebellious I ask, “How old are you anyway?”

Running his hand through his hair he chuckles. “I’m twenty-one. I will be twenty-two in the spring.”

Are you kidding me? This guy is only four years older than me and my dad leaves him in charge instead of his own daughter. This is an outrage. Mentally preparing the email I plan to send my dad later I scowl at Andy. “You are only four years older than me.” It is not a question, but a statement. Meant to make him feel like the total jerk he is for taking my dad’s money to care for me. “You want to be friends? We should be friends because you are my age.”

Andy smiles as me. I can’t help but notice how cute he is when he smiles. His eyes light up and twin dimples appear on each cheek. “Great!” he releases a heavy sigh. “That is a weight off my chest. I was really nervous to meet you. Your dad has told me so much about you and I feel like I already know you. And you are…” He points at me. “Well you’re amazing and I’m a total nerd.” He finished his sentence with a facepalm.

He has completely missed my sarcasm. What a dweeb. I am shocked to hear my dad talks about me at work. He spends so much time there I guess it only makes sense that I would come up as a topic every now and then, but Andy says he already knows a lot about me. I am curious. “My dad talks about me?” I ask.

“Well sure.” He says, “He talks about you all the time.” Andy tells stories that I know well. About how one time when I was learning to drive I followed the GPS into a field because it told me turn left. Another time when I was six and I fell out the tree house in the back yard because I thought I had caught Tinker Bell and could fly.

By the time he is done we are both laughing so hard we clutch our stomachs in pain. I check the time, surprised to see an hour has passed with us just talking. I start to feel bad for the way I treated him when he first arrived. I decide to make it up to him and invite him to stay for dinner.

Andy seems a little shocked that I even asked but agrees immediately. “Lasagna?” I ask.

Andy stares at me in shock. “You can cook lasagna?” He says with an exaggerated expression of shock on his face.

“Yeah. What? My dad didn’t tell you I cook dinner without burning down the house?” I tease him, gently poking him in the ribs.