Petunia's Pandemonium Read online

  I wasn’t quite sure how to react to that, but Upton seemed to think his potential decapitation was normal. I’d just go with it. I mean, Mermaids were as violent as they came. A good knife fight or brawl was par for the course with us. Maybe Upton was into kinky stuff. After all, he did become one with his own nuts.

  And of course, Poseidon ran a dating service on the side. He adored meddling in the affairs of those he cared about, and apparently, those he didn’t as well. The perpetually soused, diaper-wearing leader of the sea population was every kind of insane. I loved him like the inebriated non-blood related grandfather he’d become to my cousins and me. The mossy green hair and Huggies were a little hard to take seriously, but the idiot usually meant well. And if a Pirate who could basically blow himself had found true love, well, maybe Poseidon was onto something.

  “Your mate. Where is she?” I asked Upton, not sure if I wanted the answer but was too curious not to hear more.

  “Yolanda is a Yeti,” Upton whispered with a wide and delighted smile. “Me hairy little cackle fruit likes to mess with the humans who search for Big Foot on the telly. Yolanda has led them landlubbers on a chase for decades! Right now, she has over three hundred idiots trailing her delectable furry bottom.”

  Shaking my head, I laughed. It was perfect. Upton the nard licker was mated to Yolanda the furry-bottomed Yeti. I was sure she didn’t mind his contortionist act. At least I hoped she didn’t. Upton might be gross on the outside, but he was beautiful on the inside. Having him as a BFF didn’t suck at all.

  Shit.

  I had to get out of here. In less than twenty-four hours I was becoming attached to a tiny little Pirate who could lick his bits, enjoyed looting chain stores and was besotted with a furry monster. Being with my cousins felt right and good which was terrible. Nothing good in my life had ever lasted. And if I stayed too long, it would be more devastating when it fell apart. I would not wear out my welcome.

  Plus, everyone I came into contact with was happily mated—even Upton. It was freakin’ depressing. Twenty-five years ago, the one man I thought was mine bolted just like everyone else had. Afterward, I’d determined that it had to be me. I was the problem. I knew I was stunning on the outside—all Mermaids were, but I clearly didn’t have beautiful insides like my buddy Upton. People who were ugly inside didn’t get happily ever afters.

  So instead, I’d let the ocean current and the wind take me where it may. I knew nothing else. But what I did know was that the ocean had no power over me. I could live and let live without a care in the world.

  However, it was also lonely and it sucked.

  Here? I was beginning to care.

  Not good.

  I was like the star—my elusive star. The one that existed and no one could truly see. And that was how it had to be. Someday I would find that star and I would wish upon it. Someday… maybe I would find someone to love.

  “Petunia?”

  “Yes, Upton?” I replied. I was going to miss the little weirdo. He’d grown on me like a fungus in a very short period of time.

  “Have ye ever been in love?” he asked.

  Ahhh… how to answer. Since I was leaving, I figured the truth would be fine. Most likely I’d never see my scrawny little Pirate BFF again. “Once,” I admitted. “He didn’t want me.”

  Upton huffed in disgust. “Well then he’s a thunderin’, worm-riddled, fish gizzard. Ye don’t need to be quaffin’ or pining away for an arse like that. If I ever see the galley-hoppin’, arthritic octopus, I’ll put the hempin’ halter on his disco stick and shove his head in the head.”

  I was pretty sure Upton had just promised castration and a head flushing. It was all kinds of awesome. No one had looked out for me like this since my parents died.

  “If I ever see him again, I’ll be sure to let you know,” I promised with a small smile as my heart hurt a bit. I’d thought I was over it.

  “Mebbe ye should try Poseidon’s online dating service,” Upton suggested. “Ye never know. I’m the luckiest cutlass flappin’ bilge drinker in the Universe to have found me Yolanda. Why don’t ye stick around a wee bit longer and give it a try? Ye can find a bloke who will make yer heart pitter-patter. And if the scallywag treats ye wrong, I’ll send the crab-infested dingly dangler to Davey Jones’ locker.”

  Upton was making sense in a disgusting kind of way. Maybe putting myself out there was the thing to do. I’d never tried an online dating service. Part of me wanted to punch Upton in the head and part of me wanted to hug him. I did neither. I simply stared at the stars. It was a ridiculous notion, but if I was honest with myself, I didn’t want to leave. This silliness would give me an excuse to stay on the Mystical Isle a little longer.

  If Upton could find love, mebbe I could too.

  2

  Delphinus

  “So, let me get this straight,” I said, making myself comfortable on the leather couch and propping my combat boot-clad feet on the desk of my annoyed and befuddled benefactor. “I get permanently sprung from the bottle if I agree to some ridiculous mission that the elders pull out of their asses?”

  “Sure, sure, sure,” Botein said without making eye contact.

  Not good. My man Botein was a shitty liar.

  Clearly while I’d been living it up in a tiny glass prison for a quarter of a century, ‘ole Botein had moved up the Genie food chain. He had a swanky office in the main headquarters and was sporting the badge of the Genie Brigade. This turn of events was surprising. Things had definitely changed in twenty-five years.

  Running my hands through my hair, I stood and accidentally on purpose shattered the bottle I’d been incarcerated in under my combat boot. Of course, Genie bottles were a dime a dozen. However, if I had to go back in, I wanted a new damned bottle.

  “Define sure, sure, sure,” I said tersely.

  “The parole requirements are being set by the elders,” Botein answered as he rearranged all sorts of unrecognizable gadgets on his desk.

  Well, that was alarming. The elders were asses and I’d done my time. I should be free and clear. “I’m on parole?”

  “Umm… yes,” Botein said with a long sigh. “You get sprung from the bottle, but if you so much as step out of line you’ll be back in so fast your head will spin.”

  “Got it,” I said, clenching my fists at my sides. It would be counterproductive to smackdown on Botein. Besides, I kind of liked him, or I used to before I did time. He was a bit of an uptight ass, but always up for a bourbon or three. I’d even asked the son of a bitch to be the witness to my mating—not that it ever got to happen. Nope, the slippery swimming gal of my dreams never showed up.

  Whatever. That was seawater under a long-forgotten bridge.

  Of course, brawling right after being released wasn’t good form. Bad form was what landed me in the bottle in the first place. After I got stood up at the altar—so to speak, I went on a little tirade… of epic proportions. “I need specifics. The requirements?”

  “I’m getting to that, Delphinus,” Botein said with a wince.

  “It’s Del,” I corrected him in a harsh tone. Only one person other than my mother was allowed to call me Delphinus and she was dead to me. Now my certifiably insane, whack-job of a mother was alive and kicking and would call me Delphinus until the day I died, my light faded out or I was beheaded—whichever came first. The end result was the same. Thankfully, Genies were incredibly difficult to kill.

  “Right. Del,” Botein affirmed as he began to sweat.

  Genies didn’t sweat. What the hell was happening here?

  “Interesting,” I said, watching him carefully. Being human size again was delightful. If I needed to kick Botein’s ass I was capable of doing it now. At full size, I was one of the deadliest Genies alive, or at least I was. A lot could have happened while I’d been hanging out in a fucking bottle. It had sucked being miniature for the last quarter of a century. “So please tell me you’re not going to pull any of the three wishes bullshit?”

&nbs
p; “I’m a Genie—like you, you idiot,” Botein snapped as beads of perspiration flew from his upper lip. “Even if I wanted to force you to grant my wishes, I couldn’t unless I wanted your sorry ass bound to me for all time. Didn’t you learn anything in Djinn school?”

  “Skipped a lot,” I said with a grin. “Define out of line.”

  With an eye roll, Botein let his head hit the desk. Botein and I went way back—like two thousand years back. I hadn’t always trusted him since he’d always been a bit of a company man, but I liked him right now for letting me out of the damned bottle. Hell, I’d agree to almost anything at this point, but I wasn’t about to let him know that.

  With his forehead pressed to the wood, he spoke. “No getting wasted and going on TV to prove that Genies do indeed exist. While we live somewhat openly, it gets rough when we get hunted down for wishes.”

  “Sounds fair,” I replied with a chuckle. Had I actually done that? The time right before my bottled incarceration was a bit of a blur. I’d gotten quite chummy with aged bourbon since I was nursing a broken heart caused by a vicious, no-show, gorgeous, swimming she-devil. “Anything else?” I asked wondering what other unacceptable things I’d done.

  “Stay off the booze. No stealing priceless art from museums and no streaking at televised sports events.”

  “Are you sure I did that?” I asked, my brow raised in surprise. Not really my style, but Botein was clearly reading from my rap sheet. My mother must have crapped her bejeweled harem pants.

  “You did,” he said, glancing up and shaking his head. “You’re a fucking menace.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Wasn’t a compliment.”

  “Yes,” I replied dryly. “I know.”

  “Del, I’m serious here,” Botein said, mopping the sweat from his forehead with a Genie Brigade monogrammed hanky. “I had to do some complicated tap dancing to get your reckless ass out—especially after the naked sprint during the Super Bowl. And then the art heist…”

  Go big or go home had always been my motto. Clearly, I practiced what I preached. Even though I didn’t remember it, I was impressed I’d chosen the Super Bowl. However, I did recall the art heist.

  “Stealing the Mona Lisa was a dare from Pollux. Tell me you would have walked away from a dare—from Pollux.”

  “I can’t tell you that, but Pollux is in a bottle now so you don’t have him for an excuse,” Botein replied.

  “What did he do?” I asked, not the least bit surprised that Pollux was doing time.

  “You didn’t hear about it?”

  “Nope. Been in a bottle for a while. No newspaper delivery there,” I reminded him flatly.

  “Right. My bad. Suffice it to say Pollux combined copious amounts of peach schnapps, a sequined bodysuit, genetically enhanced watermelons, a fifty-story building and a movie crew,” Botein said with a shake of his head.

  “He dropped watermelons off a fifty-story building?” I asked, impressed.

  “He did… in New York City during the Thanksgiving Day Parade… and he filmed it. Extremely difficult and fucking expensive to get the NYPD off the case. Thankfully no one was injured except the creepy burger-slinging clown balloon. It was a messy shitshow. There was no way to save him. Pollux had been out of control for decades.”

  Glancing around Botein’s office, I was slightly overwhelmed with all of the unfamiliar objects. His desk was covered with tiny machines—flat metal boxes with buttons. A strange sound came from a small handheld box that Botein swiped with his finger and then spoke into. My guess was that it was a phone but no cord was attached. Damn it, from the gadgets in his office, it appeared I’d missed quite a bit.

  Touching the metal box again with his finger, he placed it carefully on his desk. His expression was grim.

  “Umm… there’s something I need to tell you,” he said in a whisper, looking wildly uncomfortable.

  “Spit it out,” I replied flatly. I needed to get out of Genie headquarters immediately. Just being here was giving me hives.

  “Your light is going out.”

  Shit.

  That was an unwelcome and potentially life-threatening surprise. Glancing around wildly, I searched for a mirror. Genies were as vain as hell since we were all exceptionally good-looking bastards. Botein had to have a mirror or five.

  The entire back wall of the office was floor to ceiling mirrors. Botein was indeed vain. Botein was also correct.

  “Son of a bitch,” I muttered as I stared at a dull version of myself. While my body looked the same, the sparkling Genie Star Fire Light in my eyes was muted and fading. What was happening to me? “I have to get out of here.”

  “You also have to get mated,” Botein said, again with no eye contact. “To a Genie.”

  That command stopped me dead in my tracks.

  “Repeat,” I ground through clenched teeth.

  No one in their right mind would mate with a female Genie. They were high maintenance, overly made up, seriously foul-mouthed, materialistic shrews. A full Genie didn’t have to be born of two Genies. As long as the mother was a freakin’ Genie the child was of the same race. My mother was definitely a Genie. Her mangled use of the English language had given me migraines for eons. I had a good idea who my father was and he was in no way a Genie. Male Genies did not mate with female Genies. That would be a shitshow far bigger than me showing my impressive nards and joystick at a football game. It would result in murder.

  “For the past twenty-five years the elders have been concerned about the Genie race becoming watered down,” Botein explained with a shudder of horror.

  “So, you mated with a Genie?” I demanded.

  “Umm… no,” he admitted. “Still single.”

  “And alive,” I mumbled.

  “That too,” Botein agreed, getting ready to duck if I decided to throw a punch.

  “Yet it’s been decided that I will mate with a Genie? This makes no sense,” I growled as Botein seemed to shrink in his chair.

  “You’re the strongest Genie in existence,” Botein pointed out as he slid lower and lower in the chair. “The elders feel you could be the beginning of creating Super Genies. Plus, if your Genie Star Fire Light is going out, getting offed by a female Genie might be a better way to go than a slow painful death.”

  Botein finished my epitaph on a terrified whisper. Tamping back my need to twist Botein into a pretzel and shove him into a bottle, I calmed myself with super inhuman effort. Reminding myself I’d just gotten out of the fucking bottle helped. However, the need to figure out what had happened to the light in my eyes is what really stopped me from shoving Botein’s head up his pompous ass and pulling it out of his mouth.

  “The elders can go fuck themselves,” I shot back. “I’ll go back to the bottle before I mate with a female Genie. I already found a mate.”

  “She didn’t want you,” Botein reminded me, staring at his shaking hands. “She changed the venue at the last moment and then didn’t show up, Del. You have to get over her.”

  “I have,” I lied easily although my gut churned.

  Botein was incorrect. He’d clearly lost his mind along with his memory over the last quarter of a century. I supposed that working for the elders could do that to a Genie. I’d changed the venue because Botein had insisted that a Mermaid should be mated near the ocean. Clearly my romantic gesture had been rejected.

  Old news.

  However, I’d eat my magic carpet before I mated with a Genie. If I couldn’t have the one who was meant for me, I would have no one at all. Besides, if my light went out, I was a goner anyway.

  “Am I free to leave?” I questioned an increasingly nervous Botein.

  “You are,” he replied cautiously. “Just keep in mind what I have told you.”

  Narrowing my eyes at the man whom I used to call friend, I shrugged and smiled. “Will do.”

  With a snap of my fingers, my magic carpet appeared and floated in the air next to me. I’d missed my old friend. Settling mys
elf comfortably on the plush fabric, I felt a little bit of my old self come back. However, the calming feeling was brief.

  I had a horrifying visit to make.

  It would be unpleasant, but it had to be done. I shuddered at the thought of seeing my mother and listening to the riot act about displaying my ass and assets on national television. But if my light was fading, she would know what to do.

  At least I hoped she would.

  I’d just gotten out of the bottle. It wasn’t my week to die.

  “Hello Mother. Long time no see,” I said, wanting to quickly get past the elephant in the room of my jail time. “I might have a bit of a problem and I was hoping you could help me.”

  Glancing around her enormous living room, I remembered her garish taste. Every surface was covered in jewels and lush velvets—very typical Genie décor.

  It made me itch.

  “Everyone has problems, Happy Camel Mango. Most of us don’t have to spend a quarter of a century in a bottle because of them.” She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at me and went on. “Do these harem pants make my tushy look fat, Sparkling Cupcake Penguin?” my mother inquired while modeling a hideous looking getup covered in so many sparkling rubies and emeralds I had to magically produce sunglasses.

  Holy hell, I’d forgotten how much I loved her emasculating pet names. My mother, Adara, was as generous with mortifying nicknames for me as she was with insults about everyone else.

  There was one clear answer to my mother’s question and it wasn’t the truth. “You look lovely,” I lied through my teeth. Being set on fire wasn’t on my agenda today so I went with the safe answer.

  “Thank you, Jolly Pancake Llama,” she squealed. “Spica and the rest of the pie-eating crotch knobs in my basket weaving class will be green with envy at my sparkle!”

  “That’s umm… fantastic,” I muttered with a wince. The visual she’d created was almost enough to make me hop back on my carpet and ride like the wind.

  Almost.

  My mother glanced at herself in one of the many mirrors in her lavish sitting room. She smiled and blew herself a kiss. It was all I could do not to laugh or groan. No one loved my mother as much as she loved herself.