Djinn

By Niki McAlister

Djinn De'monte was born with a silver spoon dangling from his lips. Partying every night, courtesy of his father's money, he merely needed to lay eyes on someone to bring them to his bed.

His father wants him to grow up, get a job and contribute to the family name the way his brother had, but Djinn has no desire to. Why should he break his back or resort to slimy ways the way his father does in order to make a name for himself? He already suffered from the lack of fatherly love as a child after his mother died, when Reginald had suddenly refused to acknowledge either of his sons as he buckled down and began the long climb to the top of the social ladder. No, Djinn's plan was to be a thorn in his family's side, to punish them for the way he'd been neglected.

An unexpected tragedy strikes, forcing Djinn to open his eyes at the world around him--to see the terrible truth that he'd remained willingly blind to his entire life, and how his father had been a willing participant of the heartbreak and suffering of those around him. The rug is pulled out from under him then, forcing Djinn to either sink or swim. His journey will take him from the safety of the subterranean Naga Kingdom and out into the world where he'll have to decide either to stand for something or be swept away with the rest of the garbage.


Although Djinn's story can be read as a standalone, his future is laid out in the Scales trilogy where he makes his entrance in book one: Serving the Scales. This book is for adults only 18+
 

Tropes: Arranged marriage, Found family, Underdog MC

 

Content warnings: Gender confusion/exploration, Magic-based transition, Fertility issues including miscarriage, Enslavement of sentient beings, Murder, Abuse in many different forms (physical, emotional, spousal, etc)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Niki McAlister
• Release date: Jul 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393495567

Niki McAlister

I've always been an avid reader of romance and fantasy, living in my own little world and constantly getting yelled at for daydreaming at inappropriate times. I currently reside in Tennesee with my husband, two boys and my many, many pets.

Book preview

Djinn:

From silver spoon to silver tongue

Niki McAlister

♦Novels by Niki♦

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any similarities to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is pure coincidence.

Copyright © Niki McAlister

Novels by Niki

All rights reserved.

Except for use in a review, no part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.

I’d like to give a special thanks to my friends in Discord and on Twitter who helped me immensely throughout this project. Every book gets better and better thanks to you all.

If you’ve bought the paperback and want the links to any of these amazing creators please email me at: [e-mail]

Image owners:

Matt Kochar

Afrazeirfan04

Matthew Smith

An amazing beta reader:

Jfel30

Iruli map:

Evin Kierans and his email

1

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Each strike of knuckles against my apartment door made my head throb with pain. I squeezed my eyes shut further and began listlessly slapping around on the bed until the rough scales of my fingers kissed the skin of the closest elf. After squeezing around a bit and determining that this was in fact Renna—I’d recognize that ass blindfolded in an alleyway—I gave her a firm shake to wake her up. Renna groaned, hissing in pain as she rolled towards me. I cracked open an eye, cursing the sunlight that trickled happily in through a tear in the curtain.

Ren, go see who’s at the door, will ya? I seethed, clutching my head as I rolled over to avoid the sunlight. And tell whoever it is to fuck off!

The girl I rolled into instinctively curled her spine into me as I twisted around her, wrapping my arms around her slender body and pulling her into me. I could feel her ice cold toes touching the side of my waist as we spooned, making the last bit of soft skin at my waist shudder. The bed began to wobble as Renna climbed through the sea of girls spread out around me. I could track her movements across the bed using the thick muscles of my tail, feeling her hands and various body parts from the other girls as they were jostled about.

Watch it bitch! Someone growled.

Watch yourself. Renna fired back.

The knocks had continued, each one vibrating from my ears all they way up through my horns incessantly. It felt like someone was lazily banging a gong inside my brain just to fuck with me. If Renna couldn’t get it to stop soon I was going to lose my shit. Bottles clattered across the floor as she slowly made her way towards the front of the apartment, grunting and hissing as she stepped on various things. As she slid the locks open on the door the sound of each bolt reverberated off the walls of my skull, leaving fireworks of pain behind my closed eyelids. My skin crawled as she yanked the door open, the underside colliding with scattered garbage and empty bottles as it screeched on its hinges.

Oh Reginald—Mr.De’monte! I heard Renna cry. I could hear the shock and embarrassment in her voice as she leapt back from the doorway.

Sleeping still, at this hour? I could hear the disappointment in his voice as Renna scrambled away from the door. The great Reginald De’monte was many things, but a proud father wasn’t one of them—at least when it came to me.

Oh fuck, it’s Reginald. One of the girls hissed under her breath loudly and the bed erupted like a volcano. Girls scattered like mice as they scrambled to collect their clothing, most of them forgoing any sense of decorum as their breasts jiggled about. They collectively beelined for the bathroom as I watched them quiver in fear of my almighty father. Renna didn’t make it in time, slamming face-first into the closing door and falling backwards on her ass.

Are you shitting me? She cried, leaping up to slap against the door with her tiny hand as she used her free arm to cover her perky little breasts. Let me in you little bitches!

Her clothes had scattered to the floor, leaving her standing there in embarrassment as my father looked on disdainfully. Renna forced a smile, kneeling to protect what little dignity she had left as she maintained eye contact with Reginald and tried to sweep the floor with her free arm to find her clothing. I rolled lazily out of bed, my bare torso twisting to give momentum to my massive serpentine tail as I bent down and retrieved the little maid’s dress from the floor, tossing it to her before turning my back so she could dress. Daddy dearest was patrolling the room now, his face in a grimace as he used his cane to poke and prod at various things around the apartment. Nagas were much larger than the servant elves that lived amongst us, and because of that most of the nagas on the west side lived in lavish mansions. I however, had been put up in an apartment designed for a smaller breed of naga—which I’m sure was done on purpose by my father’s personal maid elf as she had a deep-seated loathing for me that Reginald did nothing to fix.

I can’t believe you live like this. He muttered, holding up a lacy pink thong on the end of his mahogany cane.

One man’s trash. I replied snarkily. Behind me Renna was struggling to pour herself back into her form-fitting dress from the night before. I could hear her muttering under her breath as she loudly sucked in her breath and tried to shimmy into the garment. In the bathroom the girls were whispering loudly amongst themselves, trying to determine when was the best time to make a run for it.

I stared down my father with a smirk, feeling Renna’s hand touch the small of my back tentatively to get my attention. Before I could turn to see what she wanted there was a commotion from inside the bathroom. I had to give the old man credit— Dad’s expression never faltered as the small herd of scantily clad East City maids decided to make a break for it. The door to the bathroom banged against the side table of my bed as the girls bolted out of the cramped space like spooked forest creatures, clamoring from the safety of the bathroom towards the still-open front door. It was a sight to see; a throng of roughly five foot tall creatures that barely looked like their sculpted ancestors running in full flight mode towards a massive naga like my dad. He carried himself up high, using the scaled bottom half of his body to lift himself over most lesser nagas—which meant that his waist was currently higher than even the tallest of my conquests from last night.

The sea of limbs and party-dresses parted to avoid touching my father, and as the last girl crossed the threshold—her heels click-clacking over the hardwood floor like some sort of exotic woodland deer—Dad let out a slow, exasperated sigh and used the gold-tipped end of his cane to push the door shut slowly. His dark, mossy-colored scales flexed in the dim lighting of my apartment as he shook his head.

This kind of behavior is getting completely out of hand, Djinn. Dad said, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

I rolled my eyes at him, wincing in plain view from my headache as I began scrounging around for something to eat. Boxes of takeout stuttered across the floor as I slid my tail around in a haze. I leaned against the counter on one hand as I pulled open the icebox, staring inside at it’s meager offerings. There were a couple of leftover meatpies from a few nights ago and not much else. I groaned inwardly. I needed to eat something soon before my stomach turned so I snatched up a doughy pie just to save my eyes from the bright light inside the fridge.

You need to grow out of this phase already, Djinn. Reginald was leaning against the wall of the kitchen now as I squinted angrily into the fridge, trying to will a beverage to appear. I opened and shut the appliance several times, hoping something stronger than water would magically appear, but it didn’t.

"Why can’t you be more like your brother? You’d think that you’d be offended by the idea of your younger sibling landing a job while you haven’t even bothered to interview. You’re putting the entire Python bloodline to shame."

Typical of dear old dad to bring up our noble heritage. Python’s were the second rung on the naga evolutionary ladder, evolving from the Basilisks who were born from the great dragons of old. I’d been raised to believe that this made me better than most of the other families we mingled with, though it wasn’t until I learned how to use my pheromones to manipulate those around me that I agreed.

I said nothing, simply raising my brow as my teeth sank into the thick, stale dough of the pie. It was already expired, but I forced myself to swallow without breaking eye contact with my father. With each chew I felt my jaw ache as my temples throbbed viciously.

And look around you! He continued, gesturing to the trashed apartment. "It’s filthy in here even though I scheduled the maid to come every single day to clean. How the hell does it even get like this?"

I shrugged nonchalantly, bending over the kitchen counter to watch him attempt to maneuver through the debris field in the middle of the apartment. My neck was tensing up from the stress of having him here in my home berating me.

I pasted a vacant stare onto my face as another, softer knock at the door caught our attention. Reginald’s house-elf Natasha, opened the door tentatively, shooting a glare filled with daggers in my direction before softening her face and turning to father.

Sir, your next appointment is in ten minutes. If you’re ready? she said primly, clutching her clipboard to her chest like I was going to attempt to ravish her here and now. Her eyes darted over to me once more and I made a show of looking her up and down suggestively as I waggled my eyebrows at her. Not that I’d even dare to try. I could smell the stench of my father’s pheromones all over the poor girl. I doubt poor Natasha even knew that she stank like cedar to everyone around her. He’d likely wiped her mind and rebuilt her from the inside out specifically to suit his needs. If she wasn’t such a bitch to me I might be inclined to feel sorry for the girl.

Your mother would be ashamed to see you like this. he said low, but pointedly so I could hear. My chest ached as if I’d been struck, but I held onto my aloof expression.

Well dad, thanks for stopping by. If you give me a little heads up next time I’ll have someone ready to service you. I said abruptly, but cheerfully, flashing my teeth as I righted myself. I didn’t even give him time to say anything else as I ushered him out the front door, bolting it immediately before collapsing back into bed for a few moments of peace and sulking before I faced the world.

2

We weren’t always so distant from each other. When I was younger—when my mother was alive—we were one big, happy family. Our life was envied by everyone I knew, especially mother’s friends. I’d always hear them telling her how she was so lucky that her husband doted on her so. Father was always around back then, bringing us gifts, playing wild games of chase with us all throughout the house—much to my mother and Nana, our house-elf’s dismay. Nana was an older elf, short and fat with ears just barely pointed enough to tell her apart from a human, though she’d give us a crack on the hand with a wooden spoon if we ever dared to call her one. My father was the picture of a devoted husband. He was the youngest neighborhood spokesman in the city; everyone loved us. We were viewed as the West City’s perfect family, untouchable by any of the other families. My birthday parties were the talk of the town. Parents of the other West city children would spend weeks trying to bribe me into inviting their child so they could spend time picking my parent’s brains. My mother threw the most magnificent parties, though I could only remember my last one, my tenth birthday…the one where mother collapsed.

The news that she was with child should have been a blessing. I couldn’t understand why everyone was so concerned, but as a very young boy I had no way of knowing the events transpiring outside the safe walls of my childhood home. My mother falling pregnant was, effectively, a death sentence. Shortly after they brought Juny home Nana found my mother dead in her bedroom. She’d passed sometime in the night, with no clear indication why. The change in dad was almost immediate, like somehow seeing the love of his life so still caused his heart to stop beating. He began to work more and more, finding any excuse not to come home to a house without mom—to his children