Desires, Known by Lilith Saintcrow

Author:Lilith Saintcrow
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-9992013-0-5
Publisher: Lilith Saintcrow

Many Principles

Emily blinked, shading her eyes with one hand. It wasn’t just a house. It was a gigantic whipped-cream pile of overblown Taj Mahal, with a huge honking helping of stained glass. Oh, hell no. But when she brought her chin back down, she found the genie studying her face, and he looked a little…

Well, he looked like a kid really proud of his macaroni artwork but suspecting it wasn’t up to snuff. Even though his mouth was pulled as tight as ever and his hair was all slicked back, his nose was high and proud, and his almost-ugly cheekbones too, a tiny fleeting motion around his dark eyes gave Em a definite sense of uneasy pity.

“Do you like it?” He even sounded eager, for God’s sake. Like an elementary school kid showing you his art, hoping for a good reaction.

“It’s very…big. It’s nice,” she added hastily. “And in Grant Park, too. That’s a good address.” The neighbors are probably furious. Do you think they even notice? She refrained from asking by sheer force of will.

Her Honda looked very small on the tar-black, circular driveway, but it was gleaming as if it had been freshly waxed. The genie meekly got into the passenger’s seat when she told him to, and she had a moment of dry-mouth irrationality before she could open the driver’s side door. She put the key in the ignition, buckled her seat belt, and paused. “Look, don’t do that disappearing shit, okay? Not while I’m driving. Try not to startle me.”

“Yes, mistress.”

Lord help me, I’m in an I Dream of Jeannie reboot. “Just…call me Emily, okay?” In the center of the driveway was a statue that looked vaguely familiar, until she realized she’d seen it at the museum. A Waldroup sculpture in blue metal of a man sitting hunched over, his hand to his head, the lines more fluid than metal should be. The piece breathed resignation and sadness, but it was beautiful, and she’d folded down the page it was on in the museum catalog.

Good God. The sense of being in a dream returned, but she didn’t think pinching herself was a good idea.

“Yes, Emily.” Again, just like a kid. Anxious to please. Hopeful.

Oh, goddammit. She reached for the key again, stopped. “I, uh…look, I was really upset last night. I’m still not too happy about this, but…well, you seem like a nice person. You know? You seem…nice.” Is that all I can say?

That earned her a long, considering look. His chin wasn’t as big as she’d thought before, really, and if he got a haircut his face probably wouldn’t look so…weird. A ghost of a smile touched his tight-drawn lips. “Thank you, Emily.”

“I mean, I’m probably crazy, but if I have to be bazonko nuts, you’re not bad company.” Though I hardly know anything about you.

“Thank you.” That ghost of a smile strengthened a little. “Emily? May I touch your wrist?”

Say what? “Uh.” Her hands were on the wheel, and she darted a glance at the car door.

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