Burning Hearts

by Melanie Matthews

  “Fatima didn’t love Malcolm,” she countered. “Your kind is incapable of love.”

  He finally smiled. “True, but we do form close attachments. Our lust is like a thirst that can never be quenched.” His eyes shot to Malcolm. “It’s a good thing my sister threatened your life, or else I wouldn’t have enjoyed witnessing your girlfriend’s talent. Of course, Magi from the Love line have been known to exhibit certain Jinn traits, notably controlling the elements.” He gave Jenna a crooked smile. “Perhaps we’re cut from the same cloth.”

  “I’m nothing like you!”

  “Then how do you explain”—he wiggled his fingers in the air—“that bit of hocus pocus?”

  She fell silent. She couldn’t explain what had happened, but he didn’t offer up any answers either. Her left hand felt normal again. The magic departed as soon as it’d arrived.

  “You saved his life, but you’ll end up regretting your actions,” Saladin informed her as if he cared. He shifted his eyes to Malcolm, giving him a knowing smile, before focusing back to Jenna. “He keeps his dark side contained, bottled up, but one day, he’s going to blow his top. It happened to his father, Ishmael. He turned on his beloved Antonia, and well, your dear grandpa—once his friend—decided he needed to be put down…or so the rumors go.” He smiled. “The same will happen to Malcolm. Like father, like son. He’ll turn into a monster, and you’ll have no choice but to slay your beloved half-breed.”

  Jenna was shaking with anger. “You’re wrong!”

  “Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt,” he quipped.

  Malcolm growled and lunged, standing in front of Jenna in a protective stance. “Get out,” he commanded through clenched teeth to the King of the Jinn. “Or stay and die.”

  Jenna tensed, fearing Saladin was going to punch through Malcolm’s chest, and rip his heart out, effectively killing him; it was something his sister was unable to do. But Saladin only smiled, as if Malcolm was the least of his worries, a non-threat. Or perhaps he was delightfully amused.

  He shifted his fiery gaze to Jenna. “Until next time, little rose.” He vanished, giving her a smile and a wink as he went.

  The sand castle started to shake, threatening to fall down.

  Malcolm grabbed Jenna’s hand and they disappeared from the desert, leaving the Devil to sort out the mess that Saladin had made of his path.

  THE END AND THE BEGINNING

  The horrible events that the townspeople had experienced were over. There weren’t any Jinn, save one, left in Oasis. As the days passed, everyone had gone back to their normal routines, and talk of the “Time of Troubles” had been replaced by preparations for Christmas.

  Jenna went to visit Mrs. Tinsley, still recovering in the hospital.

  “I prayed and prayed and prayed, sweet girl, and you know what?”

  “What?”

  “The Good Lord heard me and with His mighty hand, swatted the Devil from outta here.”

  Jenna squeezed her hand, dotted with old age spots. “That He did.”

  Jenna left the hospital, wrapped in a coat with a scarf around her neck, and sat on a wooden bench, next to Riddick; he was wearing just a black T-shirt over a black long-sleeved shirt.

  “How is she?”

  “Good.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  She sighed. “I can accept being a slayer. Hell, anyone could probably do that. All you need to do is stab the Jinn in their hearts. But controlling the elements? Putting out fires with the will of my mind? How is that even possible?”

  After that day in the desert, Malcolm had tried to soothe Jenna, telling her that Saladin had lied about her being part Jinn. She’d believed Malcolm, refusing to accept that demonic blood was flowing through her veins. But like Saladin, Malcolm hadn’t been able to solve the mystery of her surprising demonstration of magical talent.

  At least her boyfriend didn’t accuse her of being evil.

  “You’re wrong about how ordinary you are,” said Riddick. “Not many people can be skillful and successful demon slayers. And about being a firefighter, didn’t Saladin say—”

  “I don’t trust Saladin,” she snapped at Riddick, and then immediately said, “Sorry,” in a softer tone.

  He waved her apology away as if she’d every right to burst. “They say the Devil mixes truth with lies. You just need to find out which truths Saladin spoke of.”

  “Malcolm said that Saladin had lied about everything.” She shrugged. “Maybe he did. I found no evidence in my grandpa’s journal about extraordinary powers, beyond what a Mage can do. Or any twisted family tree where I’m related to Saladin, or any other Jinn for that matter. And if my grandpa had killed Malcolm’s father, and he knew it, wouldn’t he be mad at me?”

  Riddick put his arm around her shoulders. “If it were true, it’s not your fault. You had nothing to do with his father’s death.”

  “I know. I guess you’re right. But something’s been worrying me. Saladin said that Ishmael turned against Antonia, that his demonic side came out.”

  “Another lie.”

  She shook her head. “Maybe, maybe not, but it got me thinking about Malcolm. I know he’s good. He’s great, actually. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. But…”

  “You’re worried that he’s gonna turn? Suppress his humanity? Be full-on demon?”

  “No Maybe. I dunno.”

  He held her close and kissed her cheek. “I’ll admit it: I hate Malcolm. Not because of who he is, but because he has you. It’s only natural, I think, to hate him. But I’ll tell you from my own experience that humans, full-on humans, can act just as demonic as demons.”

  She clasped his hand. “But you were influenced by the Jinn. You would’ve never tried to hurt me if they didn’t become involved. Right?”

  “Of course. I can’t even think back on that moment without my heart hurting. But what I’m saying is this: don’t worry. Malcolm’s one of the good guys. He’d never hurt you. Trust him.”

  She smiled. “Have you been talking to him? ’Cause you know he can sway, make you believe whatever he wants.”

  He shook his head and smiled. “No swaying.” He tapped the side of his head. “All these crazy thoughts are mine.”

  “I love you,” she said wholeheartedly.

  She’d been resisting, but now she didn’t care about the consequences. She had to let him know the truth. He deserved it.

  He caressed her cheek with his thumb. “I know.” Then he moved his hand to hers, holding it.

  She smiled, interlacing their fingers.

  The wind stirred, lifting her hair, waving it like a fiery red banner.

  “Ah, it’s cold.” She let go of his hand to readjust the scarf around her neck. “Let’s get outta here.”

  “You can’t do a spell?” He smiled. “Throw up your hand and will the cold away?”

  “I wish, but no.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette lighter.

  She gasped. “When’d you start smoking?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I don’t. I just have it. I keep it with my Swiss Army knife. It’s what all guys carry. Not everyone can have a fancy demon-slaying dagger as you,” he teased. He clicked the lighter, expelling a tall flame. “See if you can make it go out.”

  She hesitated, but then raised her left hand, willing the flame to extinguish. She felt nothing. No numbness. No shock.

  She let her hand drop. “Guess it was a one time thing.” She shrugged. “Like adrenaline; a feat of extraordinary skill when you’re desperate to save someone.”

  He released his thumb, ending the experiment, and put the lighter back in his pocket. “Maybe you have to practice.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t wanna practice. Controlling the elements is a demon thing. And the last time I checked, I’m supposed to kill demons. I’m not one of them.”

  “Still…it’s kinda cool, right?”

  She shrugged again. “Yeah, I guess. But I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” Sh
e patted his knee. “Let’s get going.”

  As they settled in his new car, a black Mustang GT with matching leather seats his step dad had gotten him for a Christmas present, Jenna turned up the heat.

  “You know, you’re gonna be beating the girls off with a stick now that you have this car.”

  “I’m ready.” He thumbed behind him. “I got my beating stick in the back.”

  “I thought that was for the zombie apocalypse.”

  He turned out on the road. “That too. I bet those zombie girls are gonna be a bitch to deal with.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed. “Eating brains. Asking if they’ve gotten fat from all the brains. Flirting to get car rides from some poor schmuck so he can drive them around for more brains.”

  “Even undead girls can be teases,” he said deadpan.

  She smiled, and then frowned. “I’m gonna miss you.”

  “I’ll only be gone a week,” he reminded her.

  “But Houston is so far away,” she whined.

  He stopped at a red light, keeping his eyes on the road. “No, it’s not. Do you even know where you live?”

  She sighed. “I dunno where the hell I am anymore.”

  The light turned green, but he didn’t move. “You could come with me.”

  She was taken aback. “What?”

  He finally turned to her, locking his dark brown eyes on hers. “Why not?”

  The car behind him honked the horn. Riddick cursed and accelerated a few more feet before eventually turning into the parking lot of the Oasis Bar and Grill where their friends were waiting to join them for lunch.

  He parked the car and shut off the engine. “Look, Jenna, I’m not gonna beg for you to choose me, but I can see the truth: you’re struggling. You love me and Malcolm.”

  Jenna wanted to disagree, but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Yes, she loved Riddick, but her love for Malcolm was beyond high school crushes. It was Kismet. What was meant to be and what can never be undone. But why couldn’t they make love? They hadn’t tried again since that devastating night, but she wanted to try again, to know that they weren’t cursed—that a Mage and a Jinni could be together in that way.

  “I don’t wanna talk about this right now.” She forced a smile and tugged at his arm. “Let’s go eat.”

  “Jenna,” he began, and then shot out his hand, latching onto hers in a sort of urgency, “I won’t wait for you. I’ll always love you, but I won’t sit around, hoping you’ll leave Malcolm someday.”

  She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I understand.”

  ~~~

  “How was lunch?”

  Jenna was lounging on her bed, flipping through the TV channels, finding nothing of interest. Malcolm sat next to her, looking sexy in just a T-shirt and jeans.

  “Good.” She patted her stomach. “I ate way too much. I always do that when the weather turns cold. What were you doing while I stuffin’ my face?”

  He kicked off his shoes and stretched next to her, propping his head against a pillow. “Spending time with my aunt. Talking, mainly.”

  She shut off the TV and rolled on her side to face him. “About what?”

  But he didn’t turn to meet her, remaining on his back, staring up at the ceiling. “My father. Turns out, she’d met him, before…”

  “Oh.” She chose her next words carefully. “How’d he seem?”

  He smiled and finally turned to face her, but only moved his head. “She said that he was nice and compassionate, and that he loved my mother very much.”

  Jenna needed to hear that. Obviously, Saladin had been lying. In that moment, she expelled all worried thoughts about Malcolm going bad from her mind. She’d nothing to fear…well, at least from the love of her life.

  “Did you tell her he was a Jinni? And that you are?”

  “No.” He looked away from Jenna. “I don’t want to scare her with the truth.”

  She wrapped her arm around his chest. “But it’s not a bad thing of who you are. Your aunt might even be proud.”

  He stroked her arm, still refusing to look at her. “Proud of you, definitely, for ridding us of the Jinn. But me? No. I’m not worthy of adoration.”

  She shifted her body and sat on top of him, straddling his waist. “What’s wrong? Why are you talking like that?”

  He put his arm over his face, hiding his fiery blue eyes. “Saladin got to me, saying that my demonic side would come out, putting you in danger, forcing you to kill me.” He flexed his fingers. “I should’ve killed him,” he said softly, but no less menacing.

  She removed his arm, revealing those beautiful eyes of his. “Don’t listen to him. He’s a liar, remember? You said so.”

  Malcolm sighed. “But what he said isn’t wrong. I’ve seen it before. Those like me. Turning.”

  She leaned down and kissed his lips, welcoming the fire he always had for her, promising to never go out. “But that’s not gonna happen to you.”

  He smiled, resting his warm hands on her hips. “Oh? And why’s that?”

  She gave a proud smile. “’Cause you have me.”

  He raised his eyebrow. “And you won’t let me?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. I’ll remind you of who you are: a nice, gentle, compassionate soul who loves and is loved.”

  He took her in his arms, and she let him shift her body with his, so they lay on their sides, facing each other. “I still can’t believe you love me. I don’t deserve you.”

  She tugged gently on his earlobe. “We need to work on your low self-esteem issues.”

  He smiled. “You know what would help?”

  She snuggled closer and wrapped her arm around his chest, resting her hand against his back that seemed knotted with stress; she began massaging his muscles.

  “What would help?”

  “Promise me that you’ll always love me.” His tone was soft, but there was no denying the force behind it: he was begging.

  Jenna didn’t hesitate. “I promise.”

  ###

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Melanie Matthews prefers to write stories that are funny and heartbreaking at the same time. “Make ‘em laugh, make ‘em cry” is her motto. Burning Hearts is her second novel, her first being Coldhearted, about ghosts. Are you sensing a “heart” theme? You’re welcome to psychoanalyze her and she can be contacted on Twitter @matthews_author. Limit your diagnoses to 140 characters, if you can.