The Genius of Jinn Read Free Page B

on her face anymore. “What gives?”
    She’s pressing her hand against her lips, trying to soothe her seared tongue. “With what?”
    I take a tiny, careful sip of my chocolat chaud. “With all this. Why are we here? How do you know Tayma? What’s this book all about? Is it really a gift for your mother?”
    Yasmin squirms.
    “Ah.” I lick my lips, enjoying both my drink and this unusual role reversal. “You’re lying to her, aren’t you? The book’s for you. A book of spells, which is such advanced magic that you shouldn’t really even have it at sixteen, let alone thirteen.”
    Whirling her head around, Yasmin shushes me. “She’ll be back any second.”
    “Good, then I can tell her why you’re really here.”
    “You have no idea why I’m really here.”
    “Don’t I?”
    “No, you don’t. Because if you did, you’d be quiet.”
    I add more cream to my drink and stir.
    Yasmin leans over the table. “That’s it? You’re done?”
    “You told me to be quiet.”
    Her nostrils flare, but a bit of a smile creeps onto her lips. Which makes her wince again. She must have really done some damage.
    “Fine,” I say. “Go ahead and tell me why you need a spell book when you don’t have powers yet.”
    “For learning. For studying. For practicing. For when we get those powers.”
    I sigh. “Why are you so eager to use magic?”
    “Why aren’t you?”
    I pour more chocolate into my mug and change the subject. “How do you even know Tayma?”
    Yasmin spoons just the whipped cream into her mouth, and her eyes widen at its deliciousness. And its temperature. The cold must feel good against her burns. She then says, “She visited my mom a couple of months ago. She was in town granting some wish for some bigwig computer guy, and she dropped by. Apparently we’re related. Through my father’s side. Not that my mother or Tayma will tell me how.”
    “Course not.”
    “Ridiculous, right?” Yasmin and I are in total agreement. For once. We are both freaked out by this.
    “Anyway,” she says, “I was talking to Tayma alone, and she mentioned she had found this old spell book at one of those stalls on the Seine. Like three-hundred-years-old old. Not a cantamen, just a book of spells. She figured it was a fraud, but she did a few spells and they were real. I told her I wanted it for my mom, because I figured she’d never just give it to me. I didn’t know she was going to pop by today at Farrah’s. Surprised me as much as you.”
    I raise an eyebrow.
    “Well, not as much,” she says.
    “Sounds like something that could get us in trouble. If not with the Afrit council, then with our moms.”
    Yasmin grins. “That’s what makes it fun.”
    “Fun?” Tayma says, swooping in with her cloak dripping off her arm and flowing in the breeze beside her.
    I don’t realize she’s actually using it to camouflage her conjuring of an extra chair until she’s seated in it at the table. Not only does no one notice, but the chair is a perfect replica. Tayma must be older than I thought with more advanced magic than I realized.
    She sets a small book with a worn, grayish-yellow cloth cover next to our hot chocolates. “I will tell you what is fun.” She nods to the book. “The love spell in here.”
    “Love spell?” I say. “One that actually works?”
    “Oui.” Tayma dips a finger in Yasmin’s whipped cream. “Christophe and I have been together for a year thanks to this love spell.”
    Looking at Tayma, I can’t imagine she’d need a spell to entice anyone to fall in love with her.
    “It is most successful when the object of your affection has interest already. But perhaps just needs un peu push.”
    Yasmin scoffs. “Who wants a love spell when all it can do is entice a human anyway?”
    Unlike my mother and me, Lalla Raina’s and Yasmin’s tolerance for humans is lower than a Jinn’s tolerance for cold. And Jinn hate the cold.
    Hate.
    It.
    Tayma flashes a smile, and the birthmark on her cheek