Hope's Wish

by Lexxie Couper

  “James!” Tahlee cried, fighting against the unseen forcing imprisoning her.

  Do something. Help him.

  How? How could she possibly overpower a sorcerer? She was just a human.

  “Kneel!” Philips screeched.

  “NO!” James roared, driving his arms down and across his torso with such otherworldly speed, the bands of burning magic around his wrists shattered.

  Philips squealed, flailing backwards. “Stop! St—”

  A column of smoke punched through the air, slamming into him. Another followed, and another. Driving him back, back, close to where Tahlee remained stuck, until he tumbled to the floor.

  James stepped from the smoke, eyes white, expression calm. “I kneel for no one, Doug. Not anymore.”

  “You can’t kill me,” Philips snarled, one hand partially shielding his face. “I know that much. Even without a treaty, a djinn can’t kill the summoning sorcerer. And if I make no wishes, there’s nothing you can do to me.”

  “A little knowledge is a dangerous thing,” James said, striding toward him.

  “I know it’s true!” Philips shot back, scrambling to his feet. “You do as well.”

  Still pinned to the wall, Tahlee’s blood ran cold at the dark look on James’s face. His expression said it all. It was true.

  Philips sneered, back pressed to the wall beside her, stare locked on James. “I will control you, djinn. And when I do, I will make you destroy everything, everyone your miscreant’s heart holds dear—starting with the bitch right here. She’ll wish she never knew you!”

  Wish.

  She will wish…

  “No,” James growled. The air cracked. The room shook. The smoke billowed.

  And as it did, Philips laughed. “There’s nothing you can do, djinn. I have the power.” He lashed out a hand, lightning arcing into the air as he grabbed Tahlee’s wrist in a brutal grip. “And I’m going to enjoy using it against the cunt you seem to love so—”

  “… you’ll wish you’d never spoken to the djinn, Rose. You’re mine. When I’m finished, you will curse its name and reject it for the abomination it is!” The switch cut into her bare back, tearing at her skin. “I am your father, Rose. You obey my wishes! You belong to me!” The switch slashed at the back of her neck, flaying her flesh. “Do you hear me?” The switch tore at her hip, her breast. “It will not have you. I’ll destroy your heart before I’ll allow you to give it to the djinn.” Pain sheared through her as the switch cut into her thighs, her stomach. “Your cunt is mine and I’ll destroy anyone or anything that takes what’s…”

  Tahlee gasped, head spinning, the sudden memory—Rose’s memory—like a tsunami of hate and fear and misery crashing over her.

  “Oh my God!” she shouted, rage incinerating everything inside her as she glared at Philips. “You were the worst fucking father ever! You are the worst fucking father!”

  Philips snapped his stare to her. “What?”

  “I’m Rose!”

  “Tahlee, no!” James shouted.

  Philips gaped at her, eyes wide. “Rose?” he whispered. Confusion etched his face, dissolving into stunned recognition, and he let out a choked groan. “My beloved Rose?”

  A cold grin stretched her lips even as her stomach lurched at the feverish desire igniting in his eyes. “Yep. Rose. Reincarnated. Surprise, fuckwit.”

  Wish. She will wish…

  Fury distorting his face, his grip on her wrist tightened. “I remember! I remember everything. You chose the djinn over me, you filthy, monster-fucking slut. I remember it all now. You were mine; only mine, and you chose it over your own flesh and blood. You deserved to die back then, just as you deserve to die now!”

  “You know what, Doug?” she said, leaning toward him as much as she could, stare locked on his. “I wish for you to go to Hell.”

  The sound of James’s swift intake of breath cracked the air.

  She turned her head to look at him, just as—gaze fixed on hers—he whispered, “Done.”

  Deep in the bowels of the room, a shudder began. The windows rattled. Objects fell from the shelves, vibrated across the desk, shattering onto the floor.

  “What…” Philips rasped, cowering away from her, eyes wide. “What did you do?”

  The unseen force pinning her to the floor vanished, and she stumbled a step, righting herself even as the floor trembled beneath her feet.

  “What’s going on?” Philips howled, eyes darting all around the room.

  Something cold and ancient shrieked from a place beyond Tahlee’s comprehension. Her flesh crawled. Her breath caught in her throat.

  She glanced at James.

  Found Barqan instead, his expression unreadable, his eyes blazing white.

  “What have you done!?” Philips screamed, lunging at her.

  Tahlee flinched, bracing for impact—but he fell backward, as if shoved by an unseen hand.

  Flailing to his feet again, he looked at Barqan. “Stop! Undo her wish. Undo—”

  The air groaned and, with an ear-splintering rip, the floor ruptured, a black maw spewing foul mist and bloodcurdling screams.

  “No.” Philips shook his head, bulging eyes fixed on the gaping wound. “No. No!”

  The shriek came again, louder this time.

  Tahlee shrank backward and squealed as she bumped into something firm and warm.

  “I’ve got you,” James’s voice whispered as strong arms wrapped around her. “You’re safe.”

  She gaped up at him—James. Not Barqan. James. Her James.

  Tahlee pushed herself closer to his body as she looked back at Philips.

  Just as a vaporous black shadow oozed from the pit in the floor.

  The very air froze. Another shriek tore at the silence, rising high until Philips began to whimper.

  “No! I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he cried, shrinking against the wall.

  The shadow hung poised on the edge of the hole for a moment, blackness broiling in blackness, consuming light, life, hope—and then it devoured the space between the maw and Philips, growing larger, taking shape. Thick, long arms, massive shoulders, a faceless head…

  Tahlee pushed deeper into James’s embrace, unable to look away even as her stomach churned and her mouth filled with sour fear.

  And cold, dark elation.

  “No!” Philips gibbered. “I didn’t mean to… I don’t belong down there! I’m not meant to go—”

  The shadow reached out a nebulous hand and covered his face with blackness, eyeless head cocked to the side, as if waiting. Contemplating.

  “No,” Philips cried through the thick black mist. “Please! I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll change. I’ll be better. I’m sorry. I’m—”

  “OURS,” a soulless voice boomed from the pit, a split second before the shadow shrieked, engulfed Philips’s entire head with its vaporous hand, and dragged him, thrashing, flailing, into the gaping maw.

  A thunderous crack rocked the room, reverberating through Tahlee’s very soul…

  And the hole vanished, as if it had never been there.

  Silence filled the room, broken only by her ragged, shallow breaths.

  Silence.

  She stared at the pristine floor, heart thumping in her ears. A vice wrapped her chest. Her head spun.

  “I did that,” she whispered, shock turning her voice to a cracked rasp.

  She’d killed a man. Oh God, she’d killed a man!

  “No.” James touched a finger to her chin, lifting her face to his. “I did that.”

  She swallowed. Frowned. Shook her head and looked at the floor again. Her brain replayed the moment over and over, Philips’s pleas growing louder each time, the shadow growing darker, larger. “I wished him to Hell,” she croaked. “I knew what I was doing.” She looked back at James, her stomach clenching. “I knew what I was saying, and I said it anyway. I did it!”

  “You made the wish, Hope,” he said, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “But I didn’t have to grant it
. I chose to.”

  “Is… is he gone for good?”

  James dipped his head in a small nod. “I’ll check with Feath—Nathanial, the angel who works for Guarded Souls, to be sure, but usually when Hell claims a soul, there’s no coming back.”

  A ghost of a memory of her life as Rose whispered through her mind, her father—Syrin—ranting about the filthy, poor villagers always wanting his help.

  Another memory followed—Philips’s words in the bathroom at the Getty, ordering a woman’s tongue to be ripped out of her mouth.

  “Good,” she said quietly. “He belongs there.”

  “Yeah.” James nodded again. “He—”

  Raising onto her toes, she kissed him. She needed the warmth of his lips on hers, needed his strength, his touch, his passion to scour away the fear and rage of Philips’s attack.

  Needed it all, an assurance James was there, with her.

  She tangled her hands in his hair and groaned as he scooped her harder to his body, his mouth and tongue moving with hers, meeting her hunger with his own.

  They crumpled to the floor, lips never breaking, hands cupping faces, exploring backs, fisting in hair.

  And then, with a low groan, he pulled away, his breath as choppy as hers.

  Shaking, her fingers slipping over the back of his neck, she stared up into his eyes, so green, so familiar, and yet at the same time, so full of ancient power. “I should be scared of you, James Hastin,” she said. “Of what you can do.”

  His eyes flared white for a moment, and he shrugged. “I’m just a djinn. Doing what needed to be done.”

  “To protect me?”

  “That. And to protect the world.”

  “The world?”

  Another flare of white light filled his eyes, and he let out a slow breath. “Syrin was a powerful sorcerer. Powerful enough to be reincarnated when his very existence had been unmade.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek again, a gentle swipe of tears she hadn’t realized were there. “That kind of power corrupts. The mind, the soul. And with Syrin’s memories burning in Philips’s head, the world wasn’t safe. What he’s already done is bad enough. What he would do with Syrin’s lust for dominance…” He shook his head.

  “So you just saved the world?”

  “Yeah.” His lips curled in a grin. His grin—the sheepish one she loved so much. Had always loved, even when she was Rose and he was Barqan. “But don’t tell anyone.”

  A hot lump filled her throat and she shook her head. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do with all this.”

  He lowered his head, nudging his forehead against hers with a soft touch, his eyes closing. “You’ll sort it out. You’re my Hope,” he murmured. “That’s what you do.”

  His Hope. As she’d always been.

  Heart joining the lump in her throat, she tilted her head and captured his lips with hers again. Real. He was real. He was hers. And she was his.

  A low groan reverberated in his chest, and he pulled away again, framing her face in hands that shook.

  Tahlee swallowed, every fiber in her body suddenly prickling with bleak realization.

  He was going once more. Leaving her. Her soul told her.

  Her heart told her.

  “Don’t you even think of walking out on me again,” she whispered. “Don’t you dare.”

  Opening his eyes, he met her gaze. “You were never meant to be in danger, Hope. Ever. But knowing me… even not knowing me… it’s put your life, your very existence at risk. What happened—with Philips and you overhearing him, and Guarded Souls being the agency contacted to protect you—it’s too big a coincidence. The Universe… Fate… it has a farking bizarre sense of humor, and us crossing paths like this… Too big a coincidence. If you have anything to do with me… it’s too dangerous.”

  “I don’t care.” She shook her head, tangling her hand in the hair at his nape. “I’m a flipping investigative journalist in London. My life is at risk every time an article is published with my name in the byline.”

  He chuckled, the sound wry and sad. It scraped at her. Hollowed her out. “Your life has always been better without knowing me. Look what happened when you were Rose. When I came into your life, when Barqan came into it—”

  “No!” The word burst from her in a fierce growl. “Do you know what Syrin used to do to me? I remember. Rose’s memories, they’re here.” She tapped her temple. “I remember the abuse, the oppression… the obsession.”

  “You remember them now,” he said. “Because of me.”

  “So? Your point being? I don’t care about them. I don’t care about who I was before. I care about now. About you. I flipping love you, James.”

  His gaze held hers as he touched her cheek again. “Hope—”

  Her chest tightened. “Don’t,” she growled. “Whatever it is you think you’re going to do, whatever you think you’re going to say, just don’t.”

  Jaw bunching, his Adam’s apple jerked in his throat. “I want you to wish you’d never met me at the pub, Hope. A simple wish. Just one. I need you to wish for that.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “I need you to wish you’d never bumped into me at the pub in Piccadilly.”

  A clammy chill crawled over her skin. She blinked again. “Why? Why would you ask me to do that?”

  “I can’t…” Grief etched his face before he scrubbed at it with a savage hand. “I can’t be with you, Tahlee, without loving you. I can’t. And loving you means my djinn’s heart becomes mortal. If I’m mortal… I can’t protect you. I can’t keep you safe. Hell, I might die. Dying doesn’t scare me, but you, being under any kind of threat… that frightens the shite out of me. So it’s better if you’d never met me at the pub. Better we never talked, laughed together, kissed…” His voice broke. “It’ll be easier for me to keep you safe and happy if you don’t know me. If you live your life without me, if you fall in love with someone else, live out your days with them, not me…”

  The cold crept into her heart. Her eyes burned, the backs of them stinging. With tears? Or anger? “I don’t want you to keep me safe. I just want you, James Hastin. All I want, all I wish for, is a life with you.”

  “Hope…” He shook his head. “Think about what happened here today. Think about what would have happened if I no longer had my djinn powers.”

  “I fell in love with you, not your power! I couldn’t give a rats arse about your power.”

  His chest swelled with a shaky breath. His eyes searched hers.

  “Don’t you get it, Hastin?” Emotions warred inside her—sorrow, anger, determination, hope. She let a smile pull at her lips, even as her throat thickened.

  “No life I could possibly live without you in it is worth even half the life I would live with you. I love you. I will always love you. No matter who I am, no matter what life I’m living. In this one, or the next, or the next. If I’m not with you, if you’re not with me, I will feel it, deep in my very existence. I will know that the life I’m living is wrong. I will know the life I’m living is incomplete. And I’ll go searching for you. Subconsciously, I’ll always be looking for you. Because we are meant to be together.”

  He stared at her.

  She shrugged sadly. “Say you don’t feel the same, and I’ll shut up. I’ll make your damn wish. But if you lie to me, I’ll know.” Then she stabbed her finger into his chest, turning her stare into a glare. “And of every living soul I’ve ever met in my life, you are the one person, the only person, I one-hundred percent trust.”

  A strangled groan rumbled deep in his chest before he shook his head with a wry smile. “I knew I should have been more duplicitous when we were together.”

  She chuckled, even as her heart thumped faster. “Yeah, yeah.”

  He held her gaze.

  She arched her eyebrow. “Do you hear what I’m saying, James Hastin? Do you hear me, Barqan? I love you. And I know you love me. It’ll be okay. I prom—”

  “I love you, Tahlee Hope.”
/>
  She blinked.

  Blinked again. Frowned… and blinked a third time.

  “Did you… ? Holy crap, you said it! Did you just…” She pressed her hand to her mouth, stared at him, and then dropped her hand again. “You just said you love me, right?”

  That sheepish grin returned. “Who am I to fight something this real? This true? Since the very moment I saw you, over fourteen hundred years ago, I was a goner. From the second you looked at me, smiled at me, I was yours.

  “But I warn you, you’d better be ready for a life with me, because at the first sign of a gray hair in my head, I’m going to freak the fark out and probably buy every box of hair dye in Walgreens I can get my hands—Oh. Buy. Wow, that’s going to take some getting used to. Buying stuff. Wonder if Kade will still keep me on at Guarded Souls? Or I could go back to dog grooming in London if you—”

  “Wait.” She grabbed at the front of his shirt. “Say it again.”

  “What?” His lips twitched. “All of what I just said?”

  “You know what I mean.” She scowled at him. Tugged him a little closer to her. “Say it again. Say ‘I love you, Tahlee Hope.’ Again.”

  He laughed. “I love you, Tahlee Hope. Again. I love—”

  She yanked him forward by the shirt and kissed him.

  And then yanked his shirt up over his head, crawled onto his lap and kissed him some more.

  He laughed into her mouth, his hands going to the buttons at the front of her shirt.

  She helped him, popping the top one even as she deepened their kiss.

  Sure, they were still in the room in which Philips had been dragged to Hell. Sure, they really should find somewhere else. Sure, they had the rest of their lives to kiss in far more appropriate places. And yeah, sure, they probably should let Kitt know they were both okay. The last he’d seen of her, she’d been ranting about James being taken by Syrin.

  But doing all that meant they’d have to tear their lips from each other’s, and no way was she ready to stop kissing James. Not yet.

  In ten minutes maybe. Or an hour. Or—

  “Err, am I interrupting something?”

  Tahlee jerked backward, a squeal bursting out of her as James hauled her closer to his body.

  A petite woman wearing cut-off denim shorts, an AC/DC T-shirt, and knee-high Doc Martens smirked at them from a few feet away.