by Marie Morin
But, of course, the problem was, he wasn't a man. He just looked like one—felt like one—acted like one most of the time. It was an illusion—an illusion that had made her feel alive for the first time in almost two years.
It occurred to her quite suddenly that, just as she'd revealed a weakness he could exploit, he had revealed one. He lusted for her. He didn't dare act upon it—which was a pity, but still a safety net for her.
She could torment him as much as he tormented her.
A wicked smile curled her lips as she stepped out of the shower and dried off. She hesitated. Her acute modesty was no act. She had never really gotten comfortable about being completely naked around her husband—not in the sense that she felt at ease strolling around the house undressed.
On the other hand, there was no time like the present to rid herself of inhibitions. She tossed the towel aside and, with as much unconcern as she could muster, strolled out of the bathroom and into her bedroom.
Raheem, she saw from the corner of her eye, still hovered over her bed. Ignoring him, she selected her clothes and dressed at leisure, like a strip tease in reverse.
When she dared a glance at him finally, the glitter in his eyes unnerved her, but it also sent a shaft of need through her, making it patently obvious that she could no more tease him in such a way with complete impunity than he could her.
* * * *
Elise was a long way from being independently wealthy, although her friends seemed to think she was. She'd invested most of the money from John's life insurance and earned a modest, supplemental income sufficient to survive in reasonable comfort whether she worked or not. He'd had life insurance on the car and the house as well, and those had been paid off after his death ... which to the average American, was virtually the same as being wealthy.
She would've rather had John.
Nothing in life was more certain, however, than that one could never have everything, or even mostly have, what one wanted most.
She worked part time as an EMT. She'd wondered if she'd lost her mind when it had first occurred to her to take the training, because she would be exposing herself almost daily to the same tragedy that had cost her her happiness.
There was comfort, however, in being there to help others, in thinking that she might make a difference for someone else ... if she was fast enough in reaching the scene, and skilled enough to save those she went to help.
Tired as she was when she finished her shift, she was also tense. Instead of going directly home, she decided to stop by the library and see what she could find out about the djinn.
She found several books. A good bit of the information was conflicting. The djinn was an evil being; the djinn was mischievous, a trickster, rather than the personification of evil. The finder of the vessel could call forth the genie and the genie, a slave to the master of the lamp, or whatever, was forced to grant wishes. However, the genie, having been summoned and not too pleased about it, had a tendency to twist the wishes. If someone wished for a million bucks, they didn't get a million dollars. They got a million bucks.
She thought about Raheem. There was no doubt in her mind that he was dangerous, but evil?
She realized she didn't want to believe that he was, but did that mean, deep down, that she'd sensed he was? Or that he wasn't?
An hour later, she had assured herself that there was nothing at all in the books about sex between a mortal and a genie—She hadn't even realized she was looking for a reference to it until she'd drawn a blank.
A blush climbed her cheeks and she looked around guiltily.
Raheem was sitting cross legged on the library table across from her.
Elise gasped, clutching the book to her chest as her heart lurched painfully.
“What have you there?"
The blush that had scarcely died, flashed into her cheeks in a tidal wave. “Nothing,” she said quickly. “Really."
He opened his hand and the book flew from her fingers and into his grasp. He fanned the pages and handed it back to her. “This is not correct."
“Which part?"
He waved his fingers in the air dismissively. “What would you like to know?"
Elise looked at him suspiciously. “Could I trust you to tell the truth?"
He gave her an affronted look. “I have no reason to lie."
“Except that you might want to,” Elise countered.
A gleam entered his eyes. His lips twitched. “You are surprisingly astute for a mortal ... particularly a female."
“You're sexist!” Elise gasped, outraged.
“I do not know this word. What does it mean?"
“It means you assume superiority based on gender!"
“Ah.” He laid down on the table, propping his head on his elbow. “These are enlightened times?"
He was baiting her. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I might have known you would be ... you are from the dark ages, after all."
“Where were these dark ages?"
She shrugged. “I'm not a historian. A thousand years ago, at least ... I think."
He frowned, apparently studying over it. “When last I was summoned, a mortal by the name of Attila was raping and pillaging Europe. That was....” He stroked his beard, contemplating.
Elise's jaw dropped. “Attila ... the Hun, you mean?"
“He is known here?"
“Good God! You can't be that old!” Elise exclaimed.
He chuckled. “Age is a concept of mortals. I am as I have always been, as I will always be. This form you see is no more than a manifestation of my ... spirit, if you will. The djinn exist without form."
Elise stared at him in dismay. It was almost the same as saying he was merely a ghost. Was that to be her lot in life? Always to be chasing ghosts?
That thought, erupting from her subconscious without her even having been aware of the emotion behind it, stunned her. Until that moment, she had not acknowledged, even to herself, that she was drawn to the djinn in ways that should never have occurred to her.
It had seemed harmless enough to acknowledge a physical attraction to him—it was impossible to ignore, at any rate—but it didn't really matter whether it was something that could, or should, be acted upon. She'd been sexually attracted to men who were unattainable more than once in her life. Just like most everyone else, there'd been models, movie stars ... singers, even men she'd met in her day to day life, that she'd daydreamed about, knowing it would never be anything else. It was a harmless form of excitement so long as one didn't allow it to get out of hand.
She'd been secure from any more heartache, though, because she still loved John. She could not allow herself to become emotionally attached to yet another ‘ghost’ or she was dooming herself to a life of loneliness, and here she was, already well on her way to just that.
Abruptly, she began to close the books that lay open around her on the library table, gathering them up. She was aware of Raheem's frowning observation, but he said nothing and she wasn't about to volunteer answers to questions that had not been asked.
A gasp behind her distracted her and she turned to see one of the librarians come to an abrupt halt at the end of the aisle behind her. “What ... are you doing? You must get down at once!"
Elise glanced from the woman to Raheem, who'd sat up and was staring at the woman in dawning fury. Even as she watched, he lifted a hand and pointed a finger at the woman. Without thinking, she leapt to her feet and grabbed his hand. “Don't! Please don't!” she whispered anxiously. “She's a nice lady. Don't do ... anything to her."
Raheem stared at her angrily, then glanced at her hands for a long moment. Something flickered in his eyes. Abruptly, he nodded at her and vanished.
“What ... where did he go?” Alicia Chaney asked, bewildered.
Elise glanced at her. “My ... uh ... friend, you mean?"
“That ... He was a friend of yours?"
“Well ... more of a new acquaintance, I guess,” Elise said, smiling faintly. “
I asked him to wait for me outside."
Alicia frowned, still looking more than a little confused.
“What in the world was he doing up on the table?"
Elise shrugged, smiling wryly. “He's a ... uh foreigner. He's not used to the way things are here. It won't happen again."
The librarian was still looking around, as if she expected momentarily to see Raheem. “No. We can't have that. He could fall, get hurt. You must explain to him."
“I will, but I won't bring him back again. Anyway, I think he'll be going home soon."
Chapter Five
Elise had more than half expected to find Raheem lounging on the couch when she reached the house. He wasn't. Her sixth sense told her even before she'd searched the house that he was not there at all, but she looked anyway.
She was disappointed when she found he wasn't. The disappointment was dismaying. She hadn't even known him a month ago. She should not be expecting, or looking forward to, finding him in her house.
It was her fault. Her friends had been trying to get her to circulate for more than a year. Even her mother, while acknowledging that grief was something that only time lessened, had pointed out that, at twenty five, she was far too young to withdraw from life, that she needed to socialize, give herself the chance to meet someone ... consider having a family. She'd thought she was reasonably content. She had no desire to settle for less than she'd had before, and no belief that loving another man even nearly as much as John was a possibility.
Obviously, she was far more lonely than she'd acknowledged to herself. If not, she would not have been so susceptible to the first ‘male’ who refused to be ignored, would she?
Sighing, she glanced disinterestedly through her mail and tossed it onto the hall table. Restless, she decided after several moments to cruise the web for a while. She wasn't hungry and it was too early in the evening to find anything, except the news, on TV. Booting the computer, she went into the kitchen to find a cold drink and then returned to her small home office and connected to the internet.
There was more junk mail in her mail box than anything else. After cleaning out the junk mail, she answered the few personal messages and checked out a couple of her favorite chat rooms. Without much surprise, she saw that only a few people were in the rooms, none that she generally ‘visited’ with.
Losing interest, she went to a search engine and pulled up pages referencing genies. Three hours later, she had a headache and was no wiser than before. The djinn was believed to be a being, or spirit, that existed on another plane—as Raheem had told her.
Leaving the desk, she found the charm she'd bought and settled on the couch with it. If she simply removed the tiny stopper and left it, would Raheem return to his own world? Or would she be ‘inviting’ others to emerge from the tiny gateway?
She wasn't really surprised when two legs appeared before her, but her heart did a little double trip. Determinedly, she put it down to surprise. She looked up slowly. Raheem was standing before her in his ‘at ease’ stance, studying her.
“You are a curious creature."
Elise frowned. “That's so flattering."
He cocked his head to one side. “Have you decided upon a wish?"
She sighed, then bit her lip as a thought occurred to her. “I asked you to give a message to Santa for me...."
He glared at her ferociously, but there was a gleam of amusement in his eyes. “You must wish for that which exists."
Sadness filled her at his words. She nodded.
“I could give you wealth beyond imagining,” he said coaxingly.
Elise smiled faintly. For a moment, she allowed her imagination to run wild; thinking of yachts, mansions, designer wear ... trips around the world. But they were all material things, things that would bring enjoyment for a little while and then cease to bring any joy at all. Who would she share them with? People whose only interest was in acquiring material things for themselves? Who had no real interest in her? Or, worse, who would plot to knock her off just so they could have the things for themselves?
“You don't have the power to give me what I really want,” she said finally.
He frowned. “The man whose image appears beside your bed?"
“In the picture,” she corrected, nodding.
“He has passed into the dark world?"
“That's one way of putting it. He no longer exists, except in my memory."
He snapped his fingers. Abruptly, a man appeared next to him. The man looked stunned, confused and more than a little angry.
Elise was equally stunned. She stared at the man uncomprehendingly for several moments, then slowly, like someone sleepwalking, stood up and touched the man. He jumped and began to speak to her in a language she didn't recognize.
She didn't need to understand his language to know what he was saying, however. It was obvious the man was as stunned and unnerved to find himself in her living room as she was to see him. He was not John. He resembled him a great deal, but it was most definitely no more than a similarity.
She turned and glared at Raheem. “Send him back!"
The djinn chuckled. “He is what you wished for."
“He is NOT!” Elise snapped angrily.
The djinn walked around the man, studying him closely. “He looks much the same."
Elise threw the charm at him.
No one was more surprised than she was when the charm struck him just above one of his wickedly arched brows. She gaped at Raheem, horrified. He looked at her as if she'd grown horns. The stranger looked at both of them as if he'd found himself in a lunatic asylum.
Abruptly, both Raheem and the stranger vanished. Elise found that she was shaking. She stared down at the tiny charm that had landed on the floor, fighting the temptation to walk over to it and crush it with her shoe.
Instead, she scooped the charm up, studied it for several moments and finally went into her room and tossed it into her lingerie drawer.
After pacing for a time, she decided, maybe, she was just going stir crazy. Pulling her address book from her purse, she thumbed through it until she found the number of one of her coworkers. She'd gone out with Lonnie a couple of times, but had discovered by the end of the first date that there simply was no spark. All the same, Lonnie seemed more than a little interested in her.
She called him and asked him out to dinner.
* * * *
“You look good enough to eat!” Lonnie said with a grin when he met her outside the restaurant.
Elise smiled with an effort. It was a compliment ... not particularly to her taste, but well intentioned. “Thanks!"
He crowded close, pressing her back against her car. She slipped away. “We should go in before the place gets too crowded."
He shrugged, grinned and fell into step beside her. “I was surprised when you called."
“Sorry. I know it was short notice."
“No problem. It's just that, after what you said about not dating coworkers, I didn't expect to hear from you again."
Elise was saved from answering immediately by their arrival at the hostess’ station. Unfortunately, she still hadn't come up with a good explanation by the time they were seated. “I still don't think it's a good idea ... but, we are friends,” she said a little hopefully. “I figured, even if we weren't actually dating, there was no reason why we couldn't go out ... as friends, you know."
He frowned. He was studying the menu, but Elise didn't delude herself into believing the frown was from concentration. His smile, when he looked up at her, was a little strained. “I'm not really ‘in’ to having female friends."
She supposed she should appreciate his honesty, even if she didn't particularly care for his bluntness. There were plenty of guys, she was sure, who would've been willing to go along with the suggestion that they were ‘just friends’ until they got the chance to jump her bones. Before she could think of any comment, his smile broadened to a grin.
“Now, if we're talking fuck buddies, I
could deal with that."
Elise gaped at him, feeling blood flood her cheeks, then glanced around quickly to see if anyone had overheard him. Thankfully, there was no sign that anyone had. “That's a little hazardous these days, isn't it?"
He shrugged. “That's part of the excitement."
The statement gave Elise cold chills. How could she have forgotten that the main reason she'd stopped seeing Lonnie was because he was a class A jerk? She forced a smile. “I've never been one for ‘Russian Roulette’ myself."
He looked her over and shook his head. “That's the part that really surprised me about you. To look at you, nobody'd ever guess you were such a tight ass."
Elise cleared her throat, looked up uncomfortably at the waiter who'd appeared beside the table just in time to hear the remark. The polite smile she'd plastered on her face froze.
It was Raheem.
He was dressed like all the other waiters in the restaurant, but it was hardly a disguise.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. She had no idea of what she ordered, or ate, or what Lonnie said ... until he suggested they go back to her place and his glass mysteriously tipped over the edge of the table, filling his lap with beer.
That ended the evening abruptly and she and Lonnie parted company.
She supposed she should have been angry, but the truth was she was relieved that she wouldn't have to try to fend off Lonnie's determined efforts to get laid.
* * * *
It was the worst wreck, bar none, that she had seen since she'd begun working as an EMT. There were times when she'd thought she was growing numb to the carnage, but every time she thought so she was called out on another wreck and discovered she was far from numb.
A truck driver had apparently fallen asleep at the wheel. The semi had jackknifed, taking out three cars and killing or maiming everyone inside. The car directly behind the semi had burned a streak of rubber in the pavement at least a hundred feet long, but still hadn't been able to stop. They'd gone under the truck. They'd been wearing their seat belts, pinned to the back of their seats so that the truck took their heads off. The girls had been in their teens.