In this world, some humans believe history repeats itself. My mom used to ramble on about that theory all the time. Me? I’ve never been a big believer in it … until now. Because, what I’m about to do just might land me in the same position as the day that fucking soulless genie took everything away from me and cursed my future. Then again, I have no other choice. Not unless I want to lose the only person left in this world I care about.

That’s what I remind myself as I stare down at the garbage can in front of me, piled with trash and doused with a bottle of everlasting flame I stole from a witch’s car parked in the arena’s parking lot near multiple bands’ world jumper vehicles, vehicles that can transport to different worlds. My pockets are stuffed with potions, a dagger, and a few magical herbs. Again, stuff I stole.

After years of surviving on the streets, I’ve learned how to become quite the thief. I used to hate the idea of stealing, but then I became homeless and orphaned, and quickly discovered that, in order to survive, I have to do things I hate. Just like I’m about to do now.

If I get caught, I’ll likely be sent to the electric dungeons again … or executed. Or worse, I’ll be sentenced to the Human Binding Department where I’ll be sold to the highest paranormal bidder.

I’ve heard horror stories of what happens to humans when they’re sold to paranormals. Of how their souls are bound to their masters by magic, and they’re forced to obey every command. I’d rather die than become a plaything for a paranormal, so I’m taking a huge risk being in the arena parking lot, surrounded by world jumper vehicles filled with paranormal musicians. But I need to be here so I can pay a debt to the underground mafia, who are human, yet have enough power over the city to be almost as scary as the paranormals.

Taking a deep breath, I dig my lighter out of my pocket and adjust the staff badge clipped to the front of my jacket. If things go according to plan, I should be able to pay off my debt to the underground mafia by tonight. Well, not my debt, but Jason’s, my best friend since we were twelve after we both spent a month in the electric dungeons.

He had been imprisoned for stealing a fey’s motorcycle, and I had been thrown in for trying to assault the genie who I thought had been behind the disappearance of my parents—huge emphasis on the trying part. The really sucky part? It wasn’t even the right genie. Luckily, I only got my ass fried by magic and my arms covered in magical wish burns that left behind a couple of gnarly scars. My sanity was also a bit shaky due to the temporary chaos wish he blasted into my brain, but that eventually faded.

I’m sort of glad the incident happened, though, because it gave me Jason. Knowing he has my back, that I have someone who’s there for me, makes the darkness and sometimes hopeless part of life easier to bear.

But our friendship hit a rough patch about six months ago when Jason got addicted to faerie euphoric dust. When he could no longer afford to buy the magical drug, he started stealing it from the mafia and got caught. The leader was going to kill him, but I made a deal to save Jason’s life.

At first, I tried to entice the mafia leader with a vow that I’d get enough money to pay off Jason’s debt. But no, the leader didn’t want money. He wanted something way more valuable in exchange for Jason’s freedom.

A goddamn genie lamp.

Under any other circumstance, I would’ve said hell no. But Jason is the only person I have left in this world that I care about. If I could without losing him, I might have fallen in love with him by now. So I told the mafia leader I’d steal the damn genie lamp, and he gave me a name and a location of where I could find a genie and his lamp.

Ashton Wynterford—aka Asher—lead singer and guitarist for the Ash East Arrow, who is currently in the city as part of a music tour. Only paranormals and some of their human servants are allowed to attend the concert. However, humans are allowed to apply for two job positions. One is to work as the bands’ staff team, and the other is to be part of the bands’ “special aftershow,” which means you have to fuck the band members after they perform.

While some human men and women are into having sex with paranormals, I’d rather cut off my right arm than give my virginity to a soulless, evil, monster. So, I applied for a staff position, and here I am, about to break all sorts of laws and start a fire in the midst of the bands’ vehicles.

I hunker down between the front of one large, metal, world jumper vehicle and the rear end of another, repeatedly flicking the lighter. My heart is a mess inside my chest, and my skin is damp with sweat. If the wrong human or paranormal sees what I’m about to do, I’m beyond screwed.

You have to do this to save Jason. He’s all you have left in this world.

As if sensing where my thoughts are heading, my earpiece begins to ring with an incoming call. I fumble around in my pocket for the receiver the mafia leader gave me and push the answer button.

“Hello?” I whisper, peering around nervously to double-check that no one is watching me.

“Harlynn,” the mafia leader, or Lead as he likes to call himself, greets me cheerfully through my earpiece. “So, what’s the update? Do you have my lamp yet?”

“Not yet,” I whisper, crouching lower to the ground. “I’m about ready to go get it, though. Just setting up a distraction.”

“Good, good,” he mumbles with less cheerfulness. “I don’t need to remind you what’s at stake, right?”

“No, I remember pretty clearly,” I reply through clenched teeth, my hands fisting into balls.

“Sometimes reminders help motivation, don’t you agree?”

“Sure.” I really fucking hate this guy. Normally, I’d tell him how moronic he is, but pissing him off right now means risking Jason’s life.

“Good. Then let me send out a reminder.”

A holographic screen illuminates in front of my face, revealing Jason bound by electric cuffs and surrounded by a group of men dressed in black, hooded uniforms and armed with various weapons.

“Jason?” I reach out like I can touch the screen.

Lead only allowed me to see Jason once when I made the bargain, and I was never allowed to speak to him directly.

Jason lifts his head and peers around with his good eye, the other too swollen to open. His lip is bleeding, and his nose is crooked and bruised. He looks awful, beaten, and sickly. My heart is breaking at seeing him so fractured.

“Harlynn?” he whispers, his eyes finding mine on the screen.

“Hey.” I fight back the tears threatening to pour out. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m doing okay,” he promises. “I’m just worried about you.”

“I’m fine. I promise. In fact, I’m about to go in and get the lamp so I can get your sorry ass freed.” I force a smile.

He hastily shakes his head. “I don’t want you to do it, Har. It’s too dangerous. And this …” He glances around at the men. “This is my mess, not yours.”

“I’m not going to just let them kill you.”

“I’ll be fine.” He flinches as the men begin to close in on him. “In fact, I’m working on a different deal with Lead. One that doesn’t involve you … You need to leave. Get away from wherever you are and forget about that lamp—”

The screen vanishes, leaving me staring at the back of a vehicle.

“Hello?” I whisper as tears roll down my cheeks. “Jason, can you hear me?”

“I’ve cut off the connection,” Lead’s voice fills my ear again. “Once you get the lamp and send me a visual of it, I’ll let you see him again.”

I dry my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt. “How do I know he’s still okay?”

“You have my word that no harm will come to him as long as you bring me the lamp.”

The word of an underground mafia leader. How reassuring.

“And if your thieving reputation precedes you,” he continues, “I have no doubt you’ll have no trouble pulling this off.”

I want to argue with him, insist that I’m not a very good thief. But the truth is, I am. Even before I lost my parents, I was always able to sneak around and find objects and secrets no one wanted found, like the book my father stole. The trait probably came from him.

While my dad wasn’t a thief, he was a tracker, or what some call a treasure hunter. He was the best of his time. That’s why he was able to find a genie lamp.

“All right, but just know that, if any more harm comes to Jason, I won’t hand over the lamp,” I dare say to Lead.

“You’re in an awfully vulnerable position to be making such demands,” he warns.

“I could very well say the same thing to you, since I’m the one who’s about to get this genie lamp you want so badly.” Yeah, I’m being a bit bold, but I can’t stand the thought of more harm coming to Jason.

He gives a short, unnerving pause. “I can’t decide whether you’re extremely stupid or completely brilliant.”

A slow exhale eases from my lips. “Perhaps a bit of both.”

“Perhaps.” He pauses. “No more harm will come to Jason, just as long as I have that lamp in my hands within seventy-two hours. That gives you more than enough time to pull this off.”

It takes a lot of effort, but I manage to get out a, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Just don’t let me down. If you do, Jason dies.”

“I won’t let you down.”

“Good.”

The line dies.

I swear to the skies, it feels like a hundred-pound weight drops onto my shoulders.

If I fuck this up, Jason dies. If I succeed, I could still screw everything up because, if there’s one thing in this world that I don’t trust, it’s a genie and his lamp.

But I have no other choice. I’m going to get that lamp, even if it kills me.

Summoning a shaky breath, I glance from left to right, scoping out the parking lot. A handful of staff members are wandering around, along with a few punked-out paranormal band members. Between the world jumper vehicles and the greying darkness of the sky, I’m pretty well hidden.

After double-checking to make sure no one is watching me, I flick the lighter and drop it into the bin of trash and gasoline. Then I run away as the flames swoosh toward the greying sky before pausing to momentarily stare as the fire blazes.

The great part about using everlasting flames is that only a witch can put it out. Since the only witch around is currently performing on stage, the fire won’t be easy to extinguish. And while everyone is distracted, I’ll sneak onto the genie’s vehicle and steal the lamp.

At least, that’s the plan.

Please let this go down smoothly.

Tearing my eyes off the hissing flames, I shuffle a few more steps back as smoke funnels through the air.

“Fire!” I shout, pretending to lose my shit.

A few paranormals and humans glance in my direction, but the panic factor I was anticipating never happens.

I try again, pointing at the flames. “Holy shit, there’s an everlasting fire and it won’t go out! The bands’ vehicles are going to blow up!”

That statement unleashes a wave of panic. Staff and band members rush over to try to put out the flames with human devices and magical spells. Then fire only blazes brighter.

Perfect.

“Someone should probably evacuate these vehicles as a precautionary measure,” I tell a younger staff member whose eyes are wide with panic.

His gaze flicks to my staff badge. “Yeah, yeah, you do that,” he mumbles as he picks up his radio device.

Fuck, I wasn’t planning on being the one to do this part of my plan.

I ball my hands into fists, knowing if I knock on that world jumper vehicle door, I very well may cross paths with the owner of the lamp I’m about to jack.

Think of Jason, Harlynn. You have to do this. You have to be brave. And the genie on that vehicle didn’t kill your family. He’s just some genie. He’s nothing.

Yeah, other than a powerful creature who can cast spells and wishes that can shatter your life into pieces.

Lowering my hood, I march over to the world jumper vehicle and pound my fist against the door. I hear cursing on the other side, followed by laughter. Then the door swings open. Standing on the other side is none other than Asher Wynterford.

He looks just like he did in the photo Lead gave me—tall, lean, and around my age. Although, with paranormals, it’s hard to say for sure what age they are. He has short, cropped brown hair, pierced lips and brows, and these crazy blue eyes framed by thick eyelashes and smudged eyeliner. He has on the jinn’s trademark wrist cuffs, isn’t wearing a shirt, and his black jeans hang low on his hips, giving me an eyeful of the intricate tattoos weaving and curving along his scarred flesh.

Scarred flesh? Since when do genies have scars?

Ripping my eyes off his scars, I blink up to meet his piercing blue eyes. And when I say piercing, I mean piercing. His gaze nearly tears me to shreds as he scrolls over my unlaced boots, torn jeans, black T-shirt, and plaid overshirt. The only makeup I have on is some lip balm and kohl eyeliner, and my long brown hair is swept to the side in a tangled mess of waves. I can see the disapproval in his eyes, but I don’t give a shit. I’m not here to dazzle some arrogant, soulless genie.

“Hey.” I sound a bit breathless from the adrenaline overload the situation is causing.

His eyes briefly widen in surprise, then a pucker forms at his brow. A strange reaction, even for a paranormal. But then his expression promptly alters to indifference and yep, that seems about right.

“Nope. Not interested.” He slants against the doorway with his arms crossed, a smirk playing at his lips. “A little word of advice, human girl. Next time, put a little more effort into your presentation. This whole flannel shirt, holey jeans, and whatever the hell is going on with your hair”—he pulls a face as he motions at my head—“isn’t going to get most paranormals to fuck you, let alone a paranormal like me.” He braces his hands on the doorframe, muscles bulging as he stares down at me with a malicious gleam in his stupidly pretty blue eyes. “You could try the band next to us. They’re not as picky with their aftershow women. My band likes top-shelf quality.”

My blood scalds, along with the scars on my skin.

Before I even know what I’m doing, my lips part. “Thanks for that little speech, but I’m not here looking to get fucked. And if I was, I sure as hell wouldn’t have knocked on your door. I just came to tell you that there’s an everlasting fire burning at the back of your vehicle and you might want to get off until it’s put out, or else you’re probably going to get smoke inhalation. But hey, maybe if you do, it’ll give your bland, average voice that raspy sound. That will at least bump up your below-average sound to middle-shelf quality, right?” I bite down on my tongue.

Oh, my hell, what did I just do? He’s going to curse me where I stand.

As his eyes darken with smoke, my breath gets lodged in my chest.

“You know what? I think I might want to retra—” His gaze darts to the flood of people gathering around the flaming trashcan and billowing smoke. “Fuck.” He leans back and shouts, “East, Arrow, get everyone off the vehicle. There’s a fucking everlasting fire burning outside the vehicle.”

“Oh no! Not an everlasting fire! Wait, maybe it’s me? I am pretty fucking hot!” a male voice amusedly shouts back, followed by a burst of giggles.

Asher sighs heavily. “Just get off the vehicle, okay? You know everlasting fire can spread fast and the smoke can be toxic.”

“Yes, boss, sir!” the same voice yells back.

Asher shakes his head in frustration.

His annoyance makes me very happy.

When his gaze lands back on me, his eyes narrow into slits. “Did you need something else?”

I cross my arms and carry his intimidating gaze, even though my pulse is soaring “Yeah, to make sure you get your ass off the vehicle.” I tap my badge. “I don’t want to lose my job because who I’m assuming is your bandmate thinks his”—I resist an eye roll—“fucking hotness caused the fire.”

Instead of getting more agitated, Asher heaves a sigh. “Look, he’s not as moronic as he sounds. He’s just … drunk?” It sounds more like a question.

“Whatever. All I’m here to do is make sure you guys’ dumbasses use the safety exits and get safely off the vehicle.” I sound bored, while inside, I’m a nervous wreck.

Why, oh why, did I use the word dumbasses? It’s like I have a death wish. And he could very well grant that.

Please just get off the vehicle so I can sneak inside and steal your lamp.

Asher meticulously eyes me over. “You’re awfully brave for a human. Or stupid. I’m trying to decide which.”

“Maybe a little bit of both,” I joke nervously, trying to ease over the situation.

“Maybe.” He continues to intensely study me. “How old are you?”

Why does that matter? “I’ll be nineteen in a few weeks.”

He gives me another once-over then rubs his pale blue lips together. “After they get the fire put out, come back to our vehicle.”

I blink at him. “What?”

He wets his pierced lips with his tongue. “I might need a little entertainment later.”

Is he kidding me? After telling me only moments ago that I wasn’t good enough, he expects me to come to his vehicle and do what? I don’t even want to know the answer, nor do I have any intention of coming back. At least not while he’s in the vehicle.

I open my mouth to say who knows what—something that would get me into a lot of trouble—when a fey appears behind Asher and thankfully distracts him.

I know from the records I hacked into—to find out more about Asher—that the faerie, known as Easton, is the bassist of their band and also sings sometimes. I haven’t seen much fey in my time, but have caught glimpses of what most humans refer to as the creatures of trickery and glittery beauty. The nickname seems fitting for him. Tall with chin-length blond hair, mischievous emerald green eyes, and full, pierced lips, there’s no denying he’s gorgeous. He’s also not wearing a shirt and has his glittery wings spanned out, all sparkling magic and iridescent light. I find myself wanting to touch his wings, trace my fingertip along the edge and see if it sparkles brighter.

But I also want to keep my fingers, so my hands remain at my sides.

Easton peers over Asher’s shoulder and out the front window of the vehicle. “Aw, so there is a fire.”

Asher folds his arms. “You thought I, what? Made the story up for fun?”

Easton shrugs. “You seemed pretty bored earlier. Thought maybe you were in one of your moods and trying to break up the party.”

“Well, I’m not,” Asher says flatly.

Easton’s lips quirk. “If you say so.”

When Asher’s jaw ticks, the faerie’s grin expands. Then he turns to exit the vehicle, but freezes when he spots me.

His jewel-colored eyes sparkle with mischief and curiosity. “Well, well, what do we have here?”

With what I hope is a disinterested expression, I tap my badge. “I’m just part of the staff.”

“Staff, huh?” His gaze devours me as he skims me over from head to toe. “You should’ve applied for the aftershow.”

I roll my tongue in my mouth, willing my lips not to part. Unfortunately, I’ve never been good at keeping my mouth shut.

“Why? So I can have the privilege of whoring myself out to a bunch of paranormals? Yeah, I think I’m okay with the staffing position. Besides, I’m too low-shelf quality to be part of the aftershow.” I don’t bother glancing in Asher’s direction, but I can feel his fiery gaze burning a hole into the side of my head.

Easton studies me with his head cocked. “You’re awfully sassy for a human.”

“Most humans are sassy by nature,” I point out. “They’re just too afraid to show their true character to paranormals.”

“Is that so?” His eyes glimmer with amusement.

I fear I might be walking into a trap. A trap I set up for myself when I decided to open my damn mouth and challenge a faerie.

Time to shut up, Harlynn.

“Look, I didn’t come here to argue,” I say. “I came here because it’s my job to get you guys off the vehicle safely.”

“Oh, don’t try to back out of this now.” Easton steps toward me. “Keep going. I was enjoying our little banter.”

From my peripheral vision, I note the flames are still blazing in the trashcan. Someone could figure out how to extinguish them at any moment, though, so I need to get them off this vehicle pronto.

“I never should’ve done it to begin with. It’s unprofessional.” Any other day, I probably would’ve gone toe-to-toe with the cocky faerie, which is why I’ve spent more than a handful of occasions in the electric cells.

“No, you definitely should’ve.” He takes another step toward me. “In fact, I think, after they get the fire out, you should come back here so we can pick up where we started.”

I aim for a bored tone. “No thanks. I’m super busy.”

He crooks a brow. “With what?”

“With anything besides coming back here.” I bite down on my tongue hard.

Shut up, Harlynn. Just shut up.

His smile is all trickery and wickedness. “What’s your name?”

Shit. The last thing I needed was is to draw more attention. It’ll make me easier to track down after I jack the lamp. “I’d rather not tell you.”

“Just your first name,” he urges, leaning closer and crowding me.

“Tell me yours first,” I quip, even though I already know it.

“Easton. Or, well, most call me East,” he says with a flick of his wrist. “Now you go.”

I open my mouth, preparing to tell him my mom’s name, when the lampposts enclosing the parking lot illuminate with purple, magical flames.

“Attention, paranormals. It has been brought to our attention that an everlasting fire is burning in the west parking lot,” a formal, robotic tone echoes through the air. “As a safety precaution, we ask that all paranormals please evacuate their vehicles and proceed to the upper section of the stadium until the fire has been put out. Thank you for your patience.” The voice fades, along with the flames.

“Come on; let’s get this over with.” Asher signals for East to get a move on.

With a sigh, East seizes my wrist and tows me with him into the mob of staff and paranormals making their way toward the stadium.

“Hey, what the heck?” I dig my heels into the asphalt

“You heard what the announcement said.” East’s eyes sparkle like starlight. “Everyone inside.”

“No, it said all paranormals inside,” I say. “Not staff.”

“Yeah, so what? I’m not about to let you go. It’s too dangerous.” His eyes glimmer for the tenth time in the last couple of minutes. I still can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“I have to work.” I wiggle my wrist, trying to get free of his grip. “If I don’t, then I don’t get paid at the end of the night.”

He practically drags me with him as he starts walking again. “I’ll pay you three times as much as you were going to make with your staffing position.”

“I’m not a whore,” I growl out.

East eyes me over curiously. “I never said you had to be.”

I glance back at his world jumper vehicle as two leggy blondes, along with Asher and a cyborg, wander outside. “Let me guess. You also told those two pretty blondes the same thing.”

He shakes his head. “Of course I didn’t. They signed up for the aftershow position.”

“You’re disgusting,” I say. “You really are.”

“Why?” he questions. “I didn’t make them sign up for the job.”

“No, but your rulers did by making every human in this world desperate for money.” The words pour off my tongue and spill into the air before they actually register in my brain.

Lovely, Harlynn. You’re really on a roll tonight.

East’s fingers twitch on my wrists, the glow in his eyes dimming. “They’re not my rulers.”

Huh? Did he just insult Five Smoke Magic? There’s a first.

Heavy silence hangs in the air as he pushes his way through the mob, towing me along with him.

“East, why are you dragging a human girl with you?” Arrow, the cyborg and drummer of Ash East Arrow, steps up beside me.

Like the rest of his bandmates, he’s wearing low slung black pants and no shirt—seriously, it must be their signature look or something—so I get a full view of his body. Half-man, half-machine, his arms, neck, and muscular chest are spun of flesh and bronzed gadgets. His fingers are purely mechanical, and his abdomen is inked with small pieces of steel. But his face is human, all full lips, short black hair, and the most beautiful silver eyes. Many cyborgs roam the city, so I know the drill. They rarely show emotion. Rarely speak. Rarely interact with anyone.

“Because I’m keeping her for the night,” East replies, hilarity ringing in his tone, his bad mood gone like human civilization itself.

“No, he’s not.” I jerk my arm, as if that somehow proves a point.

East just chuckles. “Don’t pretend you don’t like this bantering foreplay.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not a whore?” I spat, trying to wrench my arm away from him again.

East throws me a smirk. “And how many times have I told you maybe I don’t want sex from you? Perhaps I just want to keep playing our little bantering game all night long.”

I cock my brow at him. “Are you being serious right now? Because I seriously can’t tell.”

He nods with a wink. “It’s my secret wish.”

Asher suddenly materializes by East’s side. “Careful throwing around the word wish,” he warns. “My lamp’s too close by. You might accidentally set it off.”

East rolls his eyes. “Like I’m worried.”

“I know you’re not, but I am.” Asher stares up at the sky, his muscles tense. “You know how much I hate granting wishes.”

A genie who hates granting wishes? Huh, never heard that before.

“I know.” East’s voice is soft, no amusement evident.

It makes me wonder what the story is behind Asher’s hatred for wish granting. But not enough to ask. No, I need to get the hell away from these guys before we reach the gates.

Asher’s gaze strays from the sky and lands on East. “So, you’re keeping the girl?”

“No one’s keeping me,” I huff exasperatedly and stomp my foot.

Asher exchanges a look with East, and then the two of them bust up laughing. Even the emotionless cyborg chuckles.

“She’s cute, right?” East says to Asher.

The corners of Asher’s lips twitch as his gaze collides with mine. “Perhaps just a little bit.”

“No, I’m not.” I flail my free arm around in a pathetic attempt to escape East’s hold. “I’m not cute. I’m just a plain, ordinary human girl who’s way less entertaining than those pretty blondes you had in your vehicle. I mean, think about it. Do you really want me over them?” I raise my brows.

Asher rubs his lips together while East laughs and Arrow stares at me with his bronzed brows creased.

“Yep, I’m definitely keeping her,” East announces then releases my wrist and drapes an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him so my arm is wedged against his side.

His skin is warm and smells of spun sugar and strawberries. I subtly breathe in his scent, almost getting lost in his magical scent. Then he chuckles and the sound jerks me back to reality.

Big mistake letting my wrist go, asshole.

Time to escape, go find that damn lamp, and save Jason.

Lifting my foot, I kick East in the shin. His arm falls from my shoulders as he cries out in pain. If I ever do get caught, this moment will come back to bite me in the ass. But that’s a future worry. Right now, I’m only concerned about the present.

I push my way into the throng of paranormals and run away from the band. I don’t look back. Don’t want to see if they chase me.

I just focus on the forward.

On getting that damn lamp.