Hope's Wish

by Lexxie Couper

  “Shite, Nim,” James growled, his arms loosening a little around Tahlee’s body. “Knock next time.”

  Nim? Tahlee studied the new arrival’s brilliant blue eyes, bright purple buzzcut, multiple earrings in her right ear, and a constellation tattoo rising up the side of her swanlike neck.

  James had mentioned Nim before. Something about her being unable to locate the sorcerer using dark magic. Was she employed by Guarded Souls as well? Was she some kind of paranormal being? Was anyone at the security firm human?

  Does it matter?

  Nim grinned, flicked a look at Tahlee, and wriggled her beautifully shaped eyebrows at James. “Well, given I came running into the room, ready to thrash it out—mano a mano, magic style—with a dark sorcerer, with the sole purpose of saving the very existence of my good djinn friend and his human squeeze, only to find my good djinn friend and his human squeeze making out like a couple of teenagers… I’m going to forgive you for not saying thank you for getting here so quickly and just point out that I kinda did knock.”

  She threw a quick glance over her shoulder toward the door, which now hung on one hinge, the doorknob missing, the place where it used to be a mess of splintered wood.

  James snorted. “Well, now you know how into it Hope and I get when we’re making out.”

  Tahlee blinked at the door. How had they not heard that happen?

  Turning back to James, she frowned. “We should have heard that.”

  “I concealed the sound with magic to maintain the element of surprise,” Nim said. “However, you should have at least seen the door swinging in.” She dropped a wink at Tahlee, blue eyes twinkling. “So, what the hell’s going on? Kitt calls me in a frenzy, damn near growling down the phone about you then Ms. Hope here, being taken by the sorcerer. I managed to work out he was saying Doug Philips was an ancient sorcerer called Syrin, who was the sorcerer who originally summoned you a millennium ago, before his anger got the better of him—I think—and he totally wolfed out. Haven’t heard from him since, but he’s probably sprinting down the Topanga Canyon mountains as we speak, in full wolf form, ready to rip open this Philips’s throat.”

  She looked around the room. “But I don’t see a dark sorcerer here. Or even a muted mage, for that matter. So… what’s going on, djinn? Talk to me.”

  Tahlee turned back to James. That thick, hot lump returned to her throat.

  Djinn. What were James’s work colleagues, his friends, going to say when they discovered what’s happened to him? When they learned what he’d done? For her?

  Would they hate her? Hate him? Turn their back on him?

  People sucked. She knew that. But did paranormal beings have the same hang-ups about unexpected change?

  Her stomach clenched. A prickling heat crawled over her. God, James had given up everything for her. Everything. What if she wasn’t worth it? What if—

  “Hope and I were snogging over the fact we’re going to need to go old-age retirement home shopping together,” James said.

  Nim blanched. “What?”

  He smiled, feathered a thumb over Tahlee’s cheek, and then grinned up at Nim. “Amongst all the mayhem of fighting and defeating, Syrin—BTW, he’s been dragged to Hell. Literally. So sorry, but no epic magic battle for you, young lady—I accepted the fact I love this amazing, incredible, fierce, brave, sexy woman here,” he smiled at Tahlee again. “And in so doing, surrendered my djinn’s heart.”

  Nim’s eyebrows shot up. “You what?”

  He chuckled, smoothing his hands up and down Tahlee’s back. “I’m mortal. I think. Don’t know if I’m human, as such, but I’m no longer a djinn. So next time you want a Cinnabon, Nim, you’re going to have to buy one. Tahlee and I, meanwhile, are going to be planning for our long life of playing Bridge together, drinking tea, and complaining about the youth of today.” He frowned. “That’s what old people do, right?”

  Stomach still clenching, chest tight, Tahlee let out a shaky breath. “I wish I had a cup of tea right—”

  An exquisite bone china cup and saucer set appeared in her hand. The very Tiffany teacup and saucer set she’d seen online and drooled over one morning while in bed with James a month into living together. The one with the delicate gray leaf pattern and fine silver trim.

  She stared at it, the distinct aroma of Earl Grey with a hint of lemon teasing and tantalizing her senses. “Wh-what?”

  Lifting her stare to James, the tea cup wobbling on the saucer as her hand trembled, she frowned. “Wh… How? Did you do that?”

  He gaped at the tea in her hand. Frowned. Squinted at the cup some more and rubbed at the back of his head. “I did. The second you said ‘I wish I had a cup of tea,’ I remembered this teacup and saucer you went crazy over and, well… there it is.” Shaking his head, he touched the cup with a finger, as if it could at any moment bite him. “And I felt the rush. In fact, it’s still rushing through me. But I don’t…” With another shake of his head, he looked up at her. “I don’t understand.”

  “Wait wait wait,” Nim muttered, crouching down beside them. She lifted her hands toward his head, giving Tahlee an apologetic smile. “Can I just… ?”

  Heart racing, Tahlee scrambled off James’s lap, placed the tea cup and saucer on the floor, and inched away from it.

  Everything felt cold. He was still a djinn. His heart…

  She swallowed, watching Nim place her fingers on his temples. If he was still a djinn, if he still had his djinn’s heart, did that mean, despite what he said, he didn’t truly love her?

  Oh God. Could that be the case?

  Pulse pounding, she crawled away a few feet.

  “Hope?” Confusion filled his voice. She looked at him. Bewilderment swam in his green eyes. “This isn’t what you’re thinking,” he said.

  She didn’t know what she was thinking.

  “Tell me,” Nim said, a steely tone in the command, “exactly—no paraphrasing—exactly what curse Syrin cast on you with his dying breath fourteen hundred years ago.”

  James jerked his stare back to Nim. “How did you know?”

  “Kitt told me everything, Jimmy Boy. The wolf shifter’s been worried about you.” Nim walked her fingertips over his temples, the digits moving in a spider-like dance that made Tahlee’s pulse quicken. “Now tell me, word for word, what Syrin said. I need to hear the curse as he uttered it.”

  Eyes wide, chest heaving, James stared at her. “Quod si te iterum vocem suam verbum potestate cor tuum non morieris.”

  A hot finger traced up Tahlee’s spine at the words. Latin? Maybe?

  Nim’s frown deepened. “If you love again and utter its word, your heart’s power will die. That was the curse?”

  “That was it. He said a miscreant like me didn’t deserve love. He said I didn’t…” He gave Tahlee a glance. “I didn’t deserve Rose and was pretty farking adamant he’d use his dying breath to make sure I would never love again. And then he cast the curse: Quod si te iterum vocem suam verbum potestate cor tuum non morieris.”

  Eyes narrow, Nim studied him.

  And snorted out a low laugh.

  Tahlee blinked.

  James frowned. “Are you laughing at me, wiccan?”

  Lips tight, Nim shook her head—and then burst out laughing, hands dropping from his head to slap at her thighs. “You idiot, Hastin!”

  “Hey hey hey,” he pouted. “Words hurt, Nim. Words hurt.”

  “Exactly.” She slapped at his shoulder with the back of her hand, twisted around to grin at Tahlee, and then turned back to James, slapping his shoulder again. “You of all people should be aware of the power of words, Jimmy Boy. The right words. Sure, Syrin’s curse was a nasty one, a mean one. But it was clumsy wording, which meant it had a flaw. It needed one crucial element to work. An element you never gave it.”

  “I never…” James frowned. “What the farking hell are you going on about, Nim. Is this a witch thing?”

  She laughed louder, throwing Tahlee another smile. “Don’t
you get it? The curse required you to fall in love again. Again! How can you fall in love again when you’ve never stopped loving Rose in the first place?”

  She looked at Tahlee once more. “With you. He’s been in love with you forever. He never stopped being in love with you. In case you missed the point I was trying to—”

  “I got it,” Tahlee chuckled through a tight throat. She looked at James, staring at her, spine straight, green eyes wide. “I get it. I remember the night he promised me—Rose, I mean—that he would love me forever. I remember those words whispered into my ear as if he only whispered them yesterday.” She smiled, holding his stare. “And it turns out he really meant them.”

  His nostrils flared.

  She let out a soft laugh. “See? There’s a reason you’re the only person I’ve truly trusted in my entire life, Hastin. It’s because you’ve never lied to me. You kept your promise for over a thousand years.”

  His nostrils flared again, and then—in a blur of purple smoke—he stood directly in front of her. “Hey, Hope?” Hand extended to her, he gave her another sheepish grin. “Any chance you want to spend the rest of your life with a djinn?”

  Heart racing, she slipped her fingers around his and let him help her to her feet. “I told you. The only life I want is a life with you, James. Djinn or not. And you know me. I’m a stickler for telling the truth.”

  His eyes flared white for a second, and then he cupped her face in his hands and nudged his forehead to hers. “It’s never going to be boring, but it might be a little dangerous at times.”

  “Bring it on,” she whispered.

  He chuckled.

  “And on that note,” Nim muttered, “I’m out of here. Going to fill in Kade on what’s going on and see if I can track down Kitt. The poor guy’s paws are probably killing him by now.”

  James lifted his head. “Want me to… y’know,” he splayed his fingers with a quick flick, “poof you to him?”

  Nim shook her head. “I’ve got my own means. My broom is outside.” She grinned at Tahlee. “Kidding.”

  She headed for the door. Tahlee watched her for a second, and then buried her fingers into James’s hair and pulled his head down to hers. “I wish for a kiss,” she growled.

  “Granted,” he whispered, a second before crushing her lips with his.

  “By the way?” Nim’s raised voice reached them from the door and, with an impatient groan, James dragged his lips from Tahlee’s.

  “Why haven’t you gone yet?” he asked, smoothing his hands around Tahlee’s back to draw her closer. “I’ve got a wish to grant.”

  Nim studied him for a second, lips curling, and waved a finger toward Tahlee. “Did either of you know Ms. Hope there is a sorcerer?”

  Tahlee blinked. “A what?”

  “A what?” James echoed.

  A dimple flashed in Nim’s check. “Or sorceress, if you don’t want to be PC. A damn powerful one, what with the vibes I’m picking up from her. I guess it’s in her blood. Pretty certain that means she’s going to live for a long freaking time, yes? Hope you two pick a good old-people’s home.”

  And with a jaunty little wave, she walked through the door, leaving them alone in the room.

  “Did she just say…” Tahlee began.

  James smiled, mischief dancing on his face. “We are going to have so much farking fun, my sorceress,” he declared. “Fancy a fuck on the beach in Fiji?”

  She rolled her hips and squeezed his arse. “I wish for a fuck on a beach in Fiji, my djinn,” she said.

  Eyes glowing white, smile turning to a wicked grin, James raised his hand beside his face. “Done,” he murmured.

  And clicked his fingers.

  Epilogue One

  Andy Gribble stopped on the sidewalk and, tilting his head back, read the sign above the closed door—The Tarnished Spur—before swiping at his mouth.

  He lowered his gaze from the sign and looked at the red-painted wooden double door.

  His life had changed so much since the last time he’d hurried through it.

  Who would have thought it was only forty-eight hours since he’d drifted into the bar, dejected, miserable, ready to drink himself into oblivion? It felt like forever.

  So much had changed since that morning.

  Morning. Ha. Looking to get good and drunk at eight am. Shoot, he’d been a pathetic idiot, ready to drown his sorrows in cheap beer, willing to throw everything away…

  Except he hadn’t. Thanks to a conversation with a stranger whose name he’d never gotten.

  No, no… he had gotten the man’s name. James. James something. But his friends called him…

  “Jimmy,” he murmured, with a smile.

  If it hadn’t been for his conversation with Jimmy, who knows what he would have done that morning. What Betsy would have done.

  Throat thick, he studied the door again. If he walked into the bar right now, would he find Jimmy there?

  He hoped not. It wasn’t the best of places. There was a reason he’d ended up there himself that morning. But still, it’d be nice to say thank you to the man.

  Grunting out a laugh, he shook his head at the closed door. “Wish I could tell you how much you helped me that morning, Jimmy. Wherever you—”

  “Andy?”

  Andy startled, swinging around at the sound of the familiar voice.

  Jimmy stood on the sidewalk, dressed in faded blue jeans and a T-shirt with the image of a bear in a hat, from that old ’70s puppet show. A wide smile stretched his lips, and he extended his hand toward Andy. “It is you! I thought it was. Small world, ’eh?”

  A smile spreading over his own face, Andy snagged Jimmy’s hand and gave it an enthusiastic pump. “I was just thinking about you,” he said, unable to keep the delight from his voice. “Wishing I could bump into you again.”

  “Oh yeah?” Jimmy raised his eyebrows, an infectious happiness in his expression. “And why’s that?”

  “I did what you told me to do,” Andy said. He tried not to puff out his chest, but he couldn’t help himself. “Remember? In there? When I was miserable because I’d had a fight with Betsy? You told me to be courageous and tell her how I felt about her. I went back home straight from this place, straight after our conversation, and told her how much I loved her. Told her that I breathe for her. Begged her forgiveness for being a jackass.”

  “Hey, well done.” Jimmy nudged his shoulder with a gentle fist. “Knew you had it in you.”

  “You helped me. So much.”

  Jimmy pressed his hand to his chest and dipped into a playful half bow. “I’m glad I could. You’re a good man, Andy Gribble. Can I assume Betsy forgave you?”

  “She did.” A wave of warmth flowed through Andy. His face ached from smiling so much. “In fact, we’re renewing our vows next weekend. Putting on a fancy shindig and everything.” He pointed at Jimmy, eyes widening. “Hey, you need to come. If it wasn’t for…”

  He trailed off when Jimmy shook his head, his disappointment tempered by the friendly smile on the other man’s face.

  “I’d love to come, dude,” Jimmy said, sliding his hands into his back pockets. “I really would. But I’ll be swapping my own vows that day.”

  “You’ll be…” Andy smacked at his thigh. “Oh wow, you’re getting married?”

  Jimmy smiled. “I am. To the woman I’ve loved since the second I saw her.”

  Andy beamed. “That’s beautiful. Wonderful! Can’t wish for anything better than that, can you.”

  “Nope, my friend.” Jimmy smiled, and for a second, it was as if the sun turned his eyes white. “You truly can’t.”

  Epilogue Two

  Cold.

  Dark. And cold.

  Everything was dark and cold.

  Opening his eyes, Kitt struggled to sit up.

  Pain sheared through him, from his side all the way to his left shoulder.

  He winced, pressing a hand to his rib, and hissed at the fresh wave of pain lashing through him.
r />   What the…

  The last thing he remembered was running through a tract of dense trees in wolf form, heading for the LA base of Douglas Philips.

  The bastard had taken James. Had summoned him somehow. And then he’d taken Tahlee Hope ,as well.

  Nim had found James’s location, called Kitt and told him it was okay, she was going to help. But that wasn’t enough.

  Kitt had to get there. James needed help.

  He’d shifted into his wolf form and started running.

  And then… here.

  But how?

  Straightening a little—biting back another surge of pain at the minuscule movement—he squinted into the darkness.

  Tiny shards of faint light glinted off something a few feet away from him.

  He frowned and, grinding his teeth against the agony he knew would come, climbed to his feet and crossed the darkness.

  Bars.

  Gut knotting, he reached out and grabbed one of them.

  “Shit!” he yelped, staggering back a step as excruciating anguish lanced through his palm and up his arm.

  Silver. The bars were made of silver.

  “What the…” he muttered, turning slowly. Where was he? And how did he get here?

  “Hello?” he called, wincing as the unseen wound in his side protested.

  His shout bounced around him, fading into nothing.

  Silence hung heavy again, oppressive and thick and cold.

  Kitt swallowed, the hairs at the back of his neck standing on end. What the hell was going—

  “Ah, you’re finally conscious,” a deep, disembodied voice wafted to him from the darkness. “Excellent. That makes me very happy. I knew I’d one day catch the last dire wolf in existence… and I’d hate to think I’d mortally wounded you when I had.”

  The End

  Thank you for reading!

  I hope you enjoyed the second book in Guarded Souls. I can’t tell you how much fun I had writing Hope’s Wish. James Hastin (aka Barqan) is quite possibly my favorite hero to date, and I hope you like him as much as I do and enjoyed his story. The Guarded Souls series continues with the third book, Amber’s Heat (Kitt’s story). As you can probably tell already, things aren’t going so well for wolf-shifter Kitt Newton, and they’re only going to get more… intense.