Bound: The Gift of Desire Ch. 10

Chapter 10 - Get Determined

Meanwhile, George was already outside, attempting to get some distance from the shed, the stadium, and the school. After putting on a brave face in front of Lacy, he was mentally tired and stressed and needed a moment to breathe. His mind reeled from the implications of what he'd done, and though he had no regrets, he was still anxious. The Genie appeared beside him and gave George a comforting hug, then fell in step beside him.

"You did great," said the Genie.

"Yeah," he chuckled nervously, "not too bad. Better than I hoped."

"It was great," she corrected. "You accomplished your goal and bed a sexy wench without having to wish for it. Although I admit, I was skeptical. I thought it was noble of you, but I wasn't sure we could pull it off. But that's why you're the Master, and I am your ever-faithful companion."

But George wasn't interested in celebrating just yet. "I need to stay focused on finding Piper. If I stop and think about everything, I'll just talk myself down."

The Genie nodded. "I understand. Save maidens now, bed wenches later."

He realized that trying to get the Genie to focus on anything other than sex would be a challenge unto itself. So, instead, he set off across the fields, past the stadium, and toward the road. Football practice was well underway by then, but luckily, no one seemed to notice him leaving.

George thought aloud as he walked, "Okay, so what have we learned?"

She rejoined him inside his head and replied, "Oh, so much! Let's see. Veiss's an asshole who's been grooming his step-daughter's best friend to be his fuck doll. Lacy is willing to do almost anything if it means she can get out of this town but draws the line at kidnapping. Bitches ain't shit. Football is money. Lacy is a switch with a master/slave kink...."

"Genie, that's not what I meant."

She scrunched her nose as she thought, then smiled brightly. "Fake boobs are just as nice as real ones!?"

George sighed in resignation.

"What?"

"I meant about Piper."

She shrugged, "I mean... I'm sure her boobs are really nice too..."

George facepalmed and groaned, "No, Genie... What did we learn that will help us find her?"

"Oh! Right, sorry. I gotta be honest with you; I was a bit preoccupied with all the sexy flying around at the time. So I may have some blank spots."

"Then the recap falls to me, I guess. Let's see. There's a convention tomorrow night with all of Veiss's former players."

"Yes!" exclaimed the Genie as she finally caught up to the conversation. "She said that they needed a maiden to turn into a princess. So, obviously, Piper is the maiden."

"I'm so worried, Genie. I keep thinking about that board in the locker room. They called her a princess. Is that what they call their victims for some kind of... I don't know, sex trafficking?"

"I dunno. Something tells me it's not that simple. It's... cloudy? If someone was planning on going there to get their freak on, I should be able to tell. But Veiss isn't, nor that D-Money guy. Connor and the big one... what's his name?"

"Tommy," said George.

"Yeah. They are planning on getting crazy after, but not during."

"Something tells me if it was a sex thing, Connor would be all over it." George looked down as he walked, practically oblivious to his surroundings. "But they do know about it. I wonder who else does."

The Genie spoke as much with her hands as with words. "Like I said, if it was about sex, I should be able to tell, at least for the people I've met. Like, I know their kinks, their sex lives, their desires, partners, stuff like that. Even their intentions if they lean toward the erotic. But there is this weird blank spot around the event. I keep trying, but there just isn't anything there at all. It's so stupid."

"Maybe you're being blocked somehow?"

"That shouldn't be possible. I'm a freaking Jinniya! I've got infinite cosmic power at my fingertips, and sex is my domain!"

They looked at each other, both realizing the problem at the same time.

George offered, "The curse?"

The Genie rolled her eyes and groaned, "Yeah, the stupid curse..."

They both thought to themselves for a moment, and George kept returning to Piper's picture on Dragon's Whored. He had avoided making connections to the missing princesses from years ago out of incredulity. The story had the makings of a conspiracy theory, and some people marginalized themselves out of polite conversation by espousing all kinds of silly ideas. Stafford wasn't the kind of place where violent crime was especially prevalent. There was the occasional story about strange and unexplained occurrences, but a sudden disappearance, seemingly out of thin air, had twice shaken the community to its core. Pouring salt in those wounds by suggesting there was some kind of secret criminal underworld, aliens, or maiden-eating fairy creatures responsible was considered to be in poor taste.

But the similarities were starting to line up, like how the previous victims were both pretty girls around Piper's age. George didn't know any specific details about them, but when Amber Thorne went missing, Coach Veiss called her a lost princess and dedicated the team's first perfect season to her. Kelly Shoemaker went missing seven years later, and the stadium was finished and named for her a few years after that. George counted on his fingers and realized it had been seven years since then. If there was a pattern, Piper was falling right into it.

George's companion interrupted his inner conspiracy corkboard session. She said, "Hmm. It's odd that they need a maiden. How do they even know if she's a virgin or not? I mean, I would know." She scoffed and muttered, "If I could fucking find the bitch."

George added, "Lacy did mention rituals. Maybe they need a virgin sacrifice or something?" The idea would have been something out of an old movie, but if magic existed, why not a virgin sacrifice.

"I thought about that too," she countered. "The problem is there isn't anything special about virginity. At least not in a magical sense."

"That's... comforting, I guess. Surprising too. We have all kinds of stuff in folklore about virginity being this sacred thing."

"Sacred for some, maybe, but it isn't magic. Sex, though, sex is magic. Every exchange, every act... it all draws upon and amplifies magic in a small way."

George mused, "So, no magical good-boy points for celibacy, huh?"

She winced like she was sucking on a lemon. "What? No. Gross. Lacy has way more magical significance than you would if I wasn't here. No offense."

"None taken." He'd never been personally burdened with any stigma toward sexual activity or lack thereof. However, there was something still bothering him about Lacy. "So, that thing with Lacy, her relationship with Veiss... you knew about that, huh?"

"Of course," she said proudly.

"You probably know everything she's done; who she's done it with?"

"Yup."

"Pretty much every person I come across, you know every sexual thing about them."

"Uh-huh."

"How do you... How do you do it? Without going crazy, I mean."

She bobbed cheerfully and explained, "It's not so bad. Actually, it's kinda hot. It's like my own little porn channel just for me. Plus, looking at a guy like your coach, who's supposed to be intimidating and scary, and knowing he's a huge cuck and diddles himself just as furiously as everyone else... It's comforting. It kinda levels the playing field."

"Yeah, but what about when it's something awful? Do you know, like, every detail? Even the darker stuff?"

"I do," was her quick reply.

"And it doesn't bother you?"

"Well... I don't love it. But as we speak, horrible things are happening everywhere, and you may not know all the details, but you know they happen. Your heart isn't breaking for every victim."

"But if I did know all of it...."

"Then your tiny human brain would break under the strain. Don't forget, I'm not human. I know I look like one, but... I'm not." Her voice trailed off as she pondered the implications. George sensed that she needed a moment to process and stayed silent as he walked.

Finally, she spoke. "If you want to know what upsets me more than knowing bad things happen to innocent people, it's knowing that I'll never be like you. I'll never feel things like you do. I think I would be a terrible servant if I did, but still... we're different."

"You'd rather be human?"

"No, that's not it. I... I just don't want you to think less of me because I don't cry about every terrible situation. I don't want you to think that I don't care. I care a lot, actually. But I care about you more than anything. You're my Master. I... I don't know how else to explain it."

George was getting the impression that this line of questioning was stressing her out. "You don't need to explain. I was just checking to see if you were okay because I know that if I was cursed with that much knowledge, it would get to me." He briefly thought about it and added, "I don't know how you do it. But if you say you're okay, that's all I care about."

"You know what makes me feel better?"

Eager to lighten the mood, George decided to play into her crude sense of humor. "Does it involve my dick?"

"Yes!" she laughed. "Now you're getting it!"

He smiled. "I had a feeling that would perk you up."

"Actually, I was gonna say that I'm super excited that we're doing something to help your friend. I'd be okay if you wanted to let it go, but the fact that you're so determined is really hot. Lacy thought so, too."

"Really?" he said with a raised eyebrow. "I got the impression she thought I was naive."

"She probably does think that. But I think she needs someone in her life who is a little less jaded. It was interesting reading her reactions. You had her the moment you said you'd care if she was taken. Everything after that just confirmed what she already knew."

"Which was?"

"That you're someone special. Maybe you're the one who will make her believe."

"You're being very vague."

She giggled. "I know. But you said you didn't want to know everything. I agree. I think it's better to find these things out on your own. But not to worry. I'll be there to keep you from stepping in emotional dog shit."

The pair chatted some more as George walked, doing their best to brainstorm ideas about what to do next. He didn't have a specific destination in mind; he just needed to walk and talk. But after a few minutes, it became clear that neither knew what to do next. So George pulled out his phone.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

George opened his browser and began typing out a query. "I'm looking for something about filmore. It doesn't mean anything to me, but it means something to them." He scrolled through the search results, but nothing helpful stood out. Most of them were about some country singer.

"Maybe they hired some entertainment?" remarked the Genie.

"Unlikely. Country music isn't that popular around here. Though it would make sense to hire Manticore if there was a high-profile music talent." But he grimaced after he said it. "No, it has to be something else. They wouldn't talk around something like that. It would be obvious. And why would a famous country singer take a gig like this?" He shook his head and closed the browser. "This isn't helping," he sighed.

Just as he put the phone back in his pocket, it chirped to signify a message had come through. He pulled it back out to check, and it was from Lizzie. "U learn anything???" it read.

"Hmm," he thought. "She knows Piper better. Maybe they talked about it."

"Worth a shot," she said.

George typed a response, "Maybe. Does the word filmore mean anything?"

A message came back quickly. "Just got home. Sec."

George waited, expecting to receive another message, but to his surprise, Lizzie called him instead.

Genie dived back into her hiding spot and commented, "She's eager."

He answered right away. "Hello?"

Lizzie responded, "Hi, is this George?"

"Yes, it's me."

"Okay. You sound different on the phone. Anyway, I just talked with Piper's mom. The police finally agreed to open an investigation. Took 'em long enough."

"Okay, that's a start."

But Lizzie didn't sound optimistic. "I don't know. Her mom is... hard to read, but she wasn't relieved. It is what it is, I guess. How did your super secret meeting go?" she added sarcastically.

"Better than I expected. And just so you know, I'm not keeping you in the dark because I don't trust you. I've learned a lot of stuff today that... I'm not sure how much is safe to tell you. For you, I mean."

Lizzie huffed and replied, "Look, dude, it's fine. With some other things, she's told me, and now with her missing... I get it. So what did you find out?"

"A few things, but there is something I could use your help with. Are you at a computer?"

"Hmph. You could say that."

"Uh, alright. Have you or Piper heard the word filmore recently?"

"Right, I started working on that already from your message. Lots of stuff about a country singer I've never heard of. Hmm. Did they say anything else?

"Just that there is a big secret event happening this weekend. I think Piper might have been taken for some kind of ritual or something. The word filmore keeps coming up, according to my source."

"Weird," Lizzie said, distracted. George could hear her tapping on a noisy keyboard. I have a few things I want to try. Can I call you back in a bit?"

"Ooh, What kind of things?" he asked more excitedly than he meant to, but he was happy to have help.

"Nuh-uh, Georgie, you have your secrets, and I have mine."

"Fair enough. You can call me anytime. And thank you."

"No problem," she chirped. "And, uh... likewise."

He was still new to having positive exchanges with people, and the novelty made him smile. "Later."

"Later."

As the call ended, his companion bounced in his head and said, "Ooh, Master, we have to find Piper now. So much is at stake. You could be close to her and Lizzie at the same time. Two for one, Master! Two for one!"

But George was distracted from his partner's silly excitement when something caught his attention. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something big swaying with the wind up in a tree. He looked closer and saw Piper's open umbrella, like a giant orange dangling from a high branch. Then he realized where he was. It was the spot they parted ways on that rainy Wednesday afternoon. The place where she was possibly abducted.

"This is the place, Genie," he said, speaking to himself just as much as her. "I was in pain. She was trying to help me, and I... I lashed out. Told her to leave me alone."

"It's not your fault, Master. You were cursed. You were just trying to survive."

He lowered his head in shame. Survival was the last thing on his mind at the time. "She was pleading with me to... see her. I couldn't understand what she wanted, and it just made me feel worse. And the harder she tried, the more I lashed out. You don't know..." But he regretted it as soon as he said it. "That isn't true. You experienced that when you tried to banish the curse."

"It just tightened its grip on you. If I destroyed the curse, I would have destroyed you."

"It's so strange. I vividly remember yesterday, but it feels like it happened to someone else. Like, I just watched it on TV. I can't imagine saying those things to her now. I can't imagine feeling so bad I'd need to end it all."

"Who are you talking to?" came a young girl's voice several paces away.

George was startled out of his internal conversation and quickly sought out the source of the voice. Down the sidewalk was a pre-teen girl standing next to an old purple bicycle with a basket full of papers on the front. She had pale, freckly skin and bright red and gold hair, similar to Piper's, in long pig-tails. Even without Piper there to compare, the resemblance was so uncanny that they were obviously related. She wore a puzzled expression and kept her distance.

"Careful, Master. There is something odd about this one," came his companion.

"She's odd? How?" he asked.

"Odd?" asked the girl. "You're the one talking to yourself, weirdo."

"Yeah, that. I can't hide you from her, and I don't know why. Pretend I'm not here."

George was now in the awkward position of being intimidated by a twelve-year-old and composed himself before addressing her. "Sorry. I do that when I'm working through something. I didn't think anyone would hear me."

She regarded him suspiciously for a moment and then seemed to relax. She shrugged, "Nah, it's fine. I do that, too, sometimes. What's bothering you?"

George found himself intensely curious about the young girl and asked the obvious question first. "You wouldn't happen to be related to Piper Rosewood, would you?" He asked.

The girl nodded. "She's my sister. Do you know her?"

"A little. You look just like her."

"Wrong. We look like our mom. It's the hair," she said as she flipped one of her pig-tails over her shoulder.

"Oooh, I love her! She's so small and sassy I just want to hug her!" pined the Genie.

"Right," George chuckled. "I'm George. I was just..."

Her eyes went wide, "Wait. George? The George? As in, George Everhart?"

Taken aback, George stammered, "Um... yeah. How do you..."

"Oh my god, Piper never stops talking about you. You're the sad boy that everybody picks on. I thought you'd be bigger."

"Um, thanks. I guess. What does she say about me?"

"She..." but the girl stopped abruptly, realizing she'd said too much. "N-Nothing. Anyway, She didn't come home last night, so I'm going around the neighborhood putting up posters. Here." She walked her bike over to George and handed him one of the flyers she had printed out. On it were two pictures. One of Piper's most recent yearbook photos where she had dolled herself up more than usual, and a second of her in sweats with her hair up and reading from her tablet. Below was some identifying information, a number to call, and a QR code. "I made these up today. If you scan the code, it will take you to a chat board with more information."

"Is that her? She's... beautiful," said the Genie.

George examined the pictures more closely and couldn't believe what he saw. Piper wasn't just beautiful. She bore a striking resemblance to the Genie. Of course, there were subtle differences, such as Piper's freckles and the Genie's softer chin; their hair was a different color, and Piper was less curvy. But their eyes held the same shape, the same shade of blue, the same spirit. They could have easily passed for sisters. And the girl before him was just a younger version, with the same upturned eyes as her older sibling and his companion.

The girl noticed his reaction and asked, "Are you okay? You look like you're gonna vom."

"I'm okay," he breathed. "I, um... I talked to Lizzie a little while ago, and she told me all about it. So, I'm looking for her, too."

Her bright blue eyes lit up. "Oh really! That's cool. Normally, I wouldn't worry about it. Sis is super smart, and she can do anything, but Mom is worried so..."

It was clear to George that the girl was wearing a brave face, but she was remarkably good at it. She was old enough to understand how dire the situation might be but young enough to believe that she could make a difference. Then there was the fact that she'd gone to all the trouble of printing out a bunch of full-color posters to canvas the neighborhood. He found himself liking her instantly.

But then, there was the nagging feeling that there was more. Piper was so familiar. But every time he'd latch on to some vague recollection, it would slip away. He found it maddening.

He needed to move on, so he asked the girl, "What's your name?"

She beamed at him, her smile bright and genuine. "I'm Persie! It's short for Persephone," she said and extended her hand for a shake.

"Nice to meet you," said George, gingerly taking her hand. He pointed at the umbrella in the tree and said, "I think that's your sister's."

Persie's cute, girlish face scrunched up in frustration. "No, that's mine! Urg, why does she always take my stuff?"

"Wait here. I'll get it down." George examined the old oak tree, looking for the easiest way to climb it. The lowest hanging branch was somewhere around ten feet up, and there wasn't anything nearby that would support his weight. But he was feeling spry, so he jumped straight up to see how far he could get. George had never been known for his vertical leap, so it was a big surprise when he jumped high enough to grab the branch above the one he aimed for. Caught off guard, his hand slipped, but he managed to hold on to the lower branch with one arm.

"Whoa! Careful!" piped Persie.

George hung there momentarily, realizing this was part of his bond with the Genie. She was empowering him, keeping him strong and steady. Then, in the name of science, George attempted a pull-up with one arm. The exercise would have been impossible for him before, but now it was as easy as lifting his school bag.

The umbrella was a few branches up, so George, using only his arms, maneuvered through the tree as effortlessly as if he were a monkey. Once he reached the big plastic orange slice, he unhooked it from the branch it was stuck to and held it out.

"Wow, you're like Spider-Man!" Persie marveled.

"Stay clear, okay? I'm gonna drop it!"

"Okay!" she called back.

He let it fall and watched it catch on the breeze as it drifted to the ground. Then he realized how high up he was and, in a sudden fit of vertigo, lost his grip and tumbled to the ground. But just as he was about to hit the sidewalk, the Genie righted him and let him land safely on his feet. Persie was too busy chasing the garish implement to notice his clumsiness, so he walked it off as if he meant to do it.

"Thank you!" she beamed at him. She snapped the umbrella closed and hung it from her bike basket.

"George, this might be a good time to learn more about Piper. Her little sister is probably bursting at the seams with secrets."

He didn't respond but agreed. It was serendipitous that he ran into Persie. It would be foolish to waste an opportunity. "No problem, Persie. Hey, has Piper been acting strangely lately? Say anything weird?"

"Nothing weirder than normal. She's been really into figuring out what happened to the lost princesses, though. I heard her fighting with Mom about it."

"Lost princesses. You mean the girls who were kidnapped years ago?"

"Uh-huh. Sis is super smart. If anyone can solve it, she can."

George whispered to the Genie in his thoughts, "Maybe they took her because she was snooping?"

Persie looked around to ensure nobody else could hear them, then leaned in to whisper. "Between you and me. I think she likes you. Like, a lot." She backed up a smidge and reiterated, "Like a lot, a lot. You should ask her out. The homecoming dance is soon, right?"

George blushed. "I don't know about that. I've never been to a dance."

"You should go! And you should ask her before someone else does. Another boy was asking about her. Wanted to know if she had a boyfriend. I didn't like him, though. He was big and pimply and smelled like butt."

Thinking the worst, George asked, "This other boy, was he my age? What was his name?"

"I dunno, I didn't ask. I think he played sports-ball, though. He had one of their jackets on."

"You mean, the purple and black ones the football players wear?"

"Yeah! But don't worry. I told him that Piper was saving herself for you. But you have to act fast, dummy! She's not gonna wait forever!"

"Oh no," said the Genie, "They were stalking her."

"I'd better get going. I want to hit every house in the neighborhood before it gets dark."

A new dreadful revelation fell over him, but he did his best to stay pleasant for Persie. "Alright. It was nice meeting you, Persie."

"It was nice to meet you too! I can see why..."

Suddenly, out of nowhere, George felt a mild shockwave hit him in the chest while a loud chime rang in his ears. It grabbed his attention and forced him to note its point of origin to the northeast. It felt as though he'd been pinged by a submarine.

"Holy fuck!" exclaimed the Genie.

Persie gasped. Her attention was ensnared just like George's in the same direction, and she looked like she was feeling the same sense of danger. "On second thought, I should probably go home."

The ringing stopped suddenly. George turned to Persie and asked, "Did you feel that?"

But Persie avoided his gaze. "N-No. I didn't feel anything." Then, she turned her bike around and said, "I think my mom is probably worried about me, so... I'm gonna go."

George didn't argue. Something strange was happening, and he needed answers, but involving a pre-teen didn't feel like the right way to go about it, so he didn't stop her. "That's a good idea. I hope Piper turns up soon."

Persie's unflappable attitude had turned sour. "Yeah... yeah," she muttered. "Bye, George." With that, she rode off toward home.

Once she was gone, his companion materialized beside him and spoke frantically. "George, that was some kind of beacon, I think. It's gone now, but... George, that was magic. Someone used magic to... I dunno, call for help?"

"I can't feel it anymore either, but it was coming from that direction," motioned George.

"Your little friend felt it, too. This is so wild."

"Do you think..." George started. But he was interrupted by his phone ringing. It was Lizzie. George didn't hesitate to answer. "Hey. You felt that, right?"

"Huh? Felt what?" Lizzie replied.

"Oh, come on. It was like a... a pressure in my chest and a loud ring in my ears. Like really loud, bassy music. You really didn't feel that?"

"Uhhh, no? Was it like an earthquake or something?"

His companion whispered, "She's not attuned to magic. For her, it would be like trying to listen without ears."

Lizzie kept talking. "George, you're not having a stroke, are you? Is the room spinning? Do you smell toast?"

"Nevermind. Uh... someone just drove by blasting their tunes, and it uh... caught me by surprise."

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yep! No worries. So what's up?"

"Okay," she said skeptically. "So I did some digging, and you won't believe what I found."

"I'm listening."

"So there used to be this ghost-hunting show called Forbidden and Forsaken. Really over-edited, over-dramatic, stupid show. Basically, every episode was about some abandoned location with a spooky story. The crew goes there at night and gets some grainy footage of them hunting for ghosts or whatever. They never find anything, and it's always inconclusive."

"Oh yeah. I think my sister used to watch that show." George could remember several instances of his sister enthusiastically complaining about the nightmares she'd have from watching silly reality shows like that.

"It was only on for a few years. I think the host got busted for drunk driving or something. Anyway, I searched for anything with filmore as the keyword and narrowed it down to our local area. I figured it couldn't be that far away if it involved Piper."

"That's smart. You're good at this."

"I watch a lot of crime documentaries. But listen, I found a fan blog about the show. Apparently, they filmed an episode at a place near us called the James Filmore Sports Center. Unfortunately, it burned down in the 80s, and I guess a lot of people died. It was partially rebuilt, but the site was abandoned before it was finished for reasons unknown."

"I've never heard of that place."

"Me neither. This was long before our time. It was part of a private religious college that closed long before the fire, and only this building remained as a sort of YMCA thing. Anyway, that episode never aired due to what the blog cited as "local pressure." However, it also said that three crew members quit the show after that episode was filmed."

"That is spooky. You said it was close by? Is there an address?"

"Yeah, I'm sending it to you now. But it was surprisingly difficult to find. And when I put it into the GPS, the site has no roads leading to it and no satellite images. It's almost as if someone's trying to hide something." Lizzie had been excited but then became worried as reality hit. "You didn't ask me to look this up because of your fondness for ghost hunting. Is Piper there? What's going on?"

The Genie brought her hands to her face and jumped up and down cutely, making her breasts bounce around under her white sweater.

"What do I tell her?" he asked.

But the Genie stopped bouncing and shrugged.

Lizzie pressed him. "You really aren't going to tell me?" she asked incredulously. "Shouldn't we go to the police or something?"

"No! Listen, Lizzie, you'll endanger my source if you do that. Even if they get an anonymous tip, it would lead right back to them. I'm serious. We're talking dire, life-ruining, dead-in-a-ditch trouble," he said, borrowing the phrase from Lacy.

She scoffed. "Then what do we do? I can't just sit on this. Piper is my best friend."

"I... I know. I can't either." He paced up and down the sidewalk as he examined his options. But he kept coming back to the same idea. Finally, realizing he had no other choice, he had one more request for Lizzie. "Look, I know we don't know each other well, and I'm sorry about that. You seem really cool. But... I need you to trust me. Give me until sundown. If you don't hear back from me before then... do what you need to do."

"Dude, what are you talking about? Are you... Are you going to the Filmore?"

"Maybe," he muttered.

Lizzie chuckled and said under her breath, "God dammit, man."

"What's so funny," he asked. It was an innocent question. George had no idea what to make of her reaction.

"Nothing, it's just that... Ya know, Piper used to tell me that if anything happened, you'd come for her."

George stood up straight in response. "She said that?"

"Yeah, it's been a while, but she used to sleep over, and we'd talk about boys and stuff. I thought she was full of shit, but... She told me... I dunno. You sound like the person she used to talk about, is all. She has strange beliefs... Fine. I'll wait. But as soon as the sun is down, I'm going to every message board, and I will hold you personally responsible if something happens." She brought the phone close to her mouth and reiterated, "You don't want me to blame you, George."

"Thank you, Lizzie," he said, exhaling quietly in relief.

"Yeah, yeah. So... do you need any help?"

"Really?"

"Yes, really! You expect me to play video games and watch the clock while you go play hero? I'll meet you there."

The Genie's face lit up with alarm, and she made an X with her hands to voice her displeasure. George replied, "No, no, I'm just going to look. If I find anything, I'll take some pics and share 'em with you. I uh..." He stuttered, thinking of a way to keep her at a distance. Then he remembered Lacy's warnings about Manticore. "Actually, there is one thing. Could you look up a company called Manticore? They do private security, I think. My source said they were involved."

George could hear the rapid clicking of keys coming from Lizzie's keyboard. "Manticore, huh? That's a cool name, very mythological. Let's see..." Lizzie began muttering as she rapidly scanned the text on her screen, asking questions to herself and then answering them. "Here's their website. Hmm... Okay, I'll do some research and call you back. And by the way, the Filmore is a bit of a drive. So you'd better get moving if you want to make it before sundown."

George checked the address Lizzie sent him and saw what she was referring to. It was at least an hour's drive to a road that was even remotely close to the Filmore, and he didn't have a car. However, he could also tell that the location was northeast of his position. The same direction the beacon came from. "Got it. Thanks again, Lizzie. Talk to you soon."

"Later."

As soon as the call ended, the Genie resumed her bouncing. "George, is it true?! Are we going to the Filmore?"

George shifted his gaze to the northeast, over the quiet suburban neighborhood, and toward the horizon. Part of him didn't want to believe any of this was real. Maybe he was just making up fantasies like he used to when the pain was too much and he needed to cope. He could still walk away from this, go home, have wild sex with his companion all night, and hope for the best. Scared, he began to shake with nervous energy. But the proverbial Genie was out of the bottle, and he knew what he had to do.

Sensing his resolve, the Genie said, "I'll go with you."

George turned to her. "Genie, I need you to understand. Remember what we talked about earlier? About me... us, possibly being vulnerable to magic?"

She readily nodded, but then her excitement diminished as she realized where he was going.

He looked at the ground and said, "I have no idea what I'm doing. This day has been one hell of an emotional roller coaster, among other things, and I'm just holding on for dear life. I'm not dumb enough to think I'd have any chance of pulling this off without you, but I want to say... that I'm sorry." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before exhaling sharply. "I know that putting myself at risk like this endangers you. I'm risking your immortality for... for..."

"For a cute redhead?" she smirked.

George let out a nervous chuckle. "Essentially."

"If there's a better reason, I don't know what it is. Besides," she hugged his arm and added, "it's nice to be needed."

She slid her hand into his, and George squeezed it gently a few times before kissing her on the knuckle. She beamed at him, her eyes bright and shiny. Then she shifted into her magical mist and swirled around him before returning to her hiding place inside the lewdest part of his mind.

With his resolve freshly bolstered, George pulled up the map route to the Filmore. By foot, it would take him all day. He thought about using a ride app but was out of money after his lunchtime splurge. He doubted any public bus routes were nearby. Calling his mother for a ride meant coming up with some kind of elaborate lie, same with asking for more money. And he'd feel terrible asking, considering how broke they were.

So, with no other recourse, George started running.

"Weee!" cried the Genie. "Giddyup, George!"

He'd meant to start slow. However, even barely trying, he was going faster than he'd ever gone before. And once he opened up, he was outpacing some of the traffic. Of course, it was only a school zone on a suburban road. But, even still, it felt like he was running on air, almost flying. His route took him back toward the school, past the football stadium and the soccer pitch, where practice was in full swing.

"Oh, hey! Farah and a few of her teammates just noticed you!"

"Really," he asked, turning toward the soccer field. They were a distance away, but the Genie illuminated Farah and a few others with her glowing pink smoke. Farah gave him a cheery wave, filling George's stomach with butterflies and distracting him from a truck leaving the parking lot. Its horn blared loudly, leaving him only a fraction of a second to react. Without thinking, he jumped and angled himself sideways enough to slide over the hood and land safely on the other side.

"What the fuck, bro!" yelled the surprised motorist.

Embarrassed, George kept running and didn't look back.

A little while later, George's pace had only increased as he sprinted to the Filmore as hard as he could. The Genie shouted her encouragement and seemed to enjoy the ride, but George could feel his time running out as the sun sank lower in the sky. As fast as he was going, he knew it wasn't fast enough. So he slowed down, stopped next to a gas station, and pulled out his phone to check his progress. He'd run a half marathon without breaking a sweat but still had a long way to go.

"It's no use," he spat. "It's gonna take all night to get there at this rate."

"Maybe I could speed you up a bit," offered the Genie. "I could change your body to be more streamlined for running."

"You can do that?"

"Uh-huh. I can change your appearance however you like, so making your body more runnery shouldn't be a problem."

George Groaned. "Genie, why didn't you say that earlier?"

"You didn't ask. You just started running. I'm not a mind reader."

"You are so!"

"Only for the sexy stuff! I don't know how fast humans can go. If it were me, I would just fly."

George facepalmed and rubbed his forehead. "Of course, you would. You'd just turn into a bird and... wait. Genie, could you turn me into a bird?"

"Sure! That's probably way faster than running."

George shrank. "Christ, I really need to read your manual."

"Anytime, big boy," she said flirtatiously.

George ducked out of sight behind a nearby building. "Okay, so how does this work? Do I need a sexy wish?"

"Not for this. This is more like, hmm... like maintenance stuff. I can make you look any way you like. If you want to look like a bird, so be it."

"Alright. Um... it should be a really fast bird. Like a hawk or something. Hold on." George once again pulled out his phone and googled, fastest bird. After quickly browsing a few silly tier lists, he pulled up an image of a peregrine falcon and asked, "Could you turn me into one of these?"

"Baby, I'll make you the coolest, fastest, sexiest birdy on the block. You ready?"

George was trying to mentally prepare himself for what being a bird would be like. But aside from a vague sense of floating, like in water, he quickly realized he had no idea what he was getting himself into. But he couldn't linger on his doubts for too long, or he'd talk himself out of what must be done. "As I'll ever be," he sighed.

"Here we go," she announced. "And stop clenching your butthole."

"I'm not clench..."

Suddenly, George was enveloped in a puff of the Genie's swirling pink smoke, and in an instant, George was now a much smaller, lighter, fiercer bird of prey with black and white feathers. He spread his wings and crooned his neck to examine his new body. The first thing George noticed was how light he was. It was as if gravity was a mere suggestion, as even a tiny skip propelled him much higher than he expected.

But then, he felt a sudden panic sweep over him once he tried to move like he was still human. His limbs felt wrong--like he was tied up in a straight jacket. So he started bouncing around and flapping his wings wildly.

"Master. Just try to be calm," she said as soothingly as possible.

George tried to respond, but when he opened his beak to make the words, he emitted a shrill avian shriek. This made him panic more, and he flung himself against a dumpster with a loud dong. Again, he felt wrong, his mind's primate instincts at odds with his avian body's new directives.

But then, he felt the soft embrace of his companion's arms pulling him into her bosom, clutching his wings against him tightly to prevent him from moving.

"Just breathe with me," she said softly as she stroked the feathers at the base of his neck. "Don't fight it. Remember how it felt in the lunchroom? Let your body do what it needs to do. You're okay. I've got you."

His heart was hammering harder and faster than it ever had before. He was no stranger to panic attacks, but nothing he'd experienced prepared him for having one as a bird. His tiny falcon body was innately more twitchy and jumpy, his lungs shallower and his heart smaller. It took several minutes, but falcon George finally relaxed enough to think straight.

Then, with a puff of pink smoke, another falcon appeared beside him, and George was mesmerized by its magnificent plumage. His companion had transformed into her version of the bird, with shiny metallic bronze feathers fading into blues and reds and her signature pink sparkles running throughout. Even as a bird, she looked gorgeous.

She waddled close and rubbed her feathery head against his neck affectionately. Her voice floated through his mind once more. "We can still communicate like this. You'll get used to it, I promise."

George focused and replied, "Sorry. I was definitely not prepared."

"Don't mention it," she reassured as she groomed him with her beak. "By the way, you aren't afraid of heights, are you?"

A cold chill ran down his spine to his tail feathers.

The Genie jumped while flapping her wings hard, giving her lift off, and she rose steadily into the sky. "C'mon!" she called, "Last one to the Filmore is a cloaca!"

"Genie, you're going the wrong way. The Filmore is northeast."

"I knew that!" she said as she reoriented herself.

George spread his wings and let his body's new instincts take over. Before he knew it, he was beating them into an upward climb and catching up to his companion. The two soared through the sky, leaving the town of Stafford behind, the low sun at their back, propelling them forward.