Summoned

She never did. Nothing even close. What the hell is wrong with me?

 

“You can't judge people by how they look, Dimitri. A band—are you serious?” She shakes her head. “My father is the second oldest of four brothers, and everyone holds at least one PhD. They all try to outdo the other. I just finished my bachelors in mythology, and I'm getting ready to start a dual masters in sociology. When I finish, I'm going for my doctorate.

 

“This is all my family cares about. My grandmother can't stand the way her sons treat each other. She's disgusted by it, so she left for New Mexico. It wasn't far enough, Dim. That's how awful they are. Their own mother moved to Italy to get away from them. I wanted to go too … but I stayed.”

 

She looks at the floor, lost in thought.

 

I want to tell her that I'll take her to Italy. Or at least tell her why I can't. I would settle with anything at this point except what is happening.

 

Syd is leaving.

 

And I can't stop her.

 

She finally looks up. She's not angry anymore, but the disappointment is undeniable.

 

“You don't know anything about me.” A frown pulls at her face. “Nothing at all.”

 

“I do now,” I say, lamely.

 

It doesn't matter if I do know her. She will never know me. The only fair thing to do is let her leave. She'll cry, and then she'll rationalize that I'm a loser. Then she'll move on.

 

At least one of us will. I'm not sure I can, or that I even want to.

 

“It doesn't matter anymore.” Her voice is barely more than a whisper. “All I wanted was an apple.”

 

I grit my teeth, my hair falling in my face, willing her to understand why I'm silent. If I can be trapped in a genie bond then it can't be too much to hope for one spark of telepathy before this situation shatters completely.

 

Whether it's too much or not, the spark doesn't happen.

 

She continues to stare at the floor. “Aphrodite had many suitors. People claim it's because she was beautiful, but I always thought there was more to her than that. Whatever the reason, she had a long history of being courted. Dionysus fell in love with her, and to prove it, he created the golden apple and gave it to her.”

 

Syd uses her hand to wipe away a few tears lingering on her cheeks. “It wasn't about the apple, Dim. I just wanted to know that you thought of me outside of the bedroom. And you don't.”

 

With that, she leaves. I continue to stand there long after the front door closes behind her.

 

***

 

 

The urge to call Syd has me tapping my fingers over my phone. Maybe I should let her go, but I can't. I don't actually press any buttons though because calling her right now will just make her angry.

 

If I don't push my luck, I might be able to work out something before she starts to hate me.

 

I can't blame her. I would hate me, too. I never acted like anything more than the one-night stand who kept her on speed dial.

 

I sit on my couch—it's not even my couch; it belongs to Karl, like every aspect of my life—staring at my phone. My leg bounces as I debate when I should call her and what I should say. Then I pull to my feet and pace the living room, back and forth, resentment and despair growing with each step.

 

If I call her, I have to give her an explanation.

 

If I don't call her, she will believe that I really don't care. That I only think of her when I want to go spelunking in her caves.

 

I grind my teeth as I continue to stalk across the room. There was always so much more to her. If I was just after easy parking, I could get with Silvia Strange. Hell, if I was smart, I would have done so and gained an upper hand in the future arrangement.

 

With a sigh, I collapse onto the couch again. I don't want Silvia. I don't want anyone else, just Syd. She gives me a little slice of another existence and makes me think it could be mine someday too.

 

She really is my rockstar.

 

Or was.

 

I don't text her, because I don't know what to say to bring her back.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9

 

 

 

I dress and sit on the couch. I'm not really awake, but I'm not asleep either. Somewhere in the zone, I think: This is it. This is the rest of my life. I will sit here until I am called to action.

 

Maybe killing and kidnapping won't be so bad now. I don't care anymore.

 

When my vision tunnels, I'm not surprised. Not even worried.

 

I open my eyes to Karl. His smirk does nothing to me. No more fear, and no more hatred. Apathy might be the answer. Maybe that's how all the other genies did it. Maybe Syd's purpose in my life was to numb me so I could survive the next twenty years. Everything makes sense now, in a screwed up kind of way.

 

Karl says, “I need you to kill this man, Dimitri.”

 

The guard hands me a manila envelope. My life is packaged in these. Delivered one piece at a time. At least I don't have any worries. I don't have to get a degree, or pay bills, or deal with volatile family. All I have to do is follow orders.

 

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