One Wish Away: Djinn Empire Complete Series

by Ingrid Seymour

  “And don’t forget ‘bout me,” Javier added, a big, toothy grin across his face. “I’m good with a water hose.” He mimed watering the yard.

  Marielle laughed. There was a twinkle in her eyes, one I hadn’t seen there in a while. It warmed my heart to see her happy, because happiness was all I wanted for her.

  Javier grew serious suddenly. “I’m also good with a shotgun. They bleed, right?”

  Bullets couldn’t hurt Djinn, even if they bled, but we all shared Javier’s sentiment.

  7

  Marielle

  Everyone walked upstairs, carrying a candle. Shadows danced on the wall as the steps creaked under our tired, heavy footsteps. The cold felt worse up there, and the prospect of sleeping in the drafty bedrooms was depressing.

  I was distracted and hit a literal wall when I reached the landing. I cursed under my breath.

  “We’ll turn into popsicles,” Abby said. She stood in front of me, a thick, red candle in hand, her spiked hair looking like upside down icicles.

  “I closed all the windows,” Faris said as he finished climbing the steps behind me. “It will get better once you slip into your sleeping bags.”

  “I vote for going back to that Dubai hotel,” Abby grumbled, as she snatched a sleeping bag from the stack piled on the floor.

  I took one for myself and tucked it under my arm. Abby and I had stolen them from an outdoor store on our way to pick up Javier. I wasn’t proud of that, even though we had left the money on the counter to cover the cost. Our options were limited, and it wasn’t the time for scruples—at least that was what Abby told me to make me feel better.

  Everyone shuffled through, picked a sleeping bag and then a room. I took Faris’s hand and started to pull him along, but he didn’t budge. I looked back at him.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  His eyes flicked surreptitiously over my shoulder. I looked back and saw Anita watching us as she filed into one of the rooms behind her husband and son.

  “Oh,” I said.

  Faris leaned in and brushed my cheek with a light kiss. “Good night.” He walked away and headed past all the occupied bedrooms, deeper down the hall.

  Before he entered the room, he looked back, but I was unable to decipher his expression in the darkness. I imagined his eyes mirrored the same emptiness I felt at the thought of sleeping apart. He didn’t need to sleep—his existence didn’t depend on fulfilling any physiological needs. But every night for the past week, we’d shared the same bed, and he had slept, even if just for the joy of it. Sleeping together gave us both peace of mind. I felt safe, happy and whole with him, and he felt at ease, knowing he could protect me better.

  Gazes locked, we made toward our respective bedrooms, moving slowly and reluctantly as if there was an invisible rubber band between us and it had stretched as far as it could.

  When I finally stepped inside and closed the door behind me, my chest ached, just like it had this morning when we’d gone our separate ways to look for Dad. It was irrational, I knew. Faris was just a few doors down, but, after being separated from him without knowing if I’d ever see him again, I couldn’t help overreacting. The loss and the anguish I’d experienced when he went with Akeelah had been almost too much to bear. And, although we were together now, life had become so terrifyingly uncertain that I never wanted to take my eyes off him for fear I might never see him again.

  Stepping into the middle of the dusty room, I tried to ignore the hollow pit in my stomach. I threw my sleeping bag on the floor and set my candle next to it. The flame flickered as a cold stream of air seeped through the old window. I took off my shoes, unrolled the sleeping bag and sat on it. Exhaustion settled on me like a three-ton elephant. We’d been up early today, driving recklessly to get to New Orleans.

  With a sigh, I lay down and immediately missed not having a pillow. Turning on my side, I brought my hand together and put them under my cheek. I closed my eyes, hoping exhaustion would steal me away from my worries, but the emptiness next to me made it impossible to fall asleep. I tossed and turned well after the house grew quiet, then sat up, knowing it was a hopeless case.

  Walking barefoot, I padded out of my room as silently as the old, wooden floors allowed. Boards creaked and groaned under my weight, but no one stirred as I headed down the long hall toward Faris’s room.

  His door creaked open. Right away I spotted his figure silhouetted against the open window. The fabric of his shirt blew around him in the cold breeze. He turned slowly, arms outstretched. His chest was bare, the shirt unbuttoned and untucked. I closed the door behind me and walked into his open arms.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” I said into his chest which felt warm in spite of the open window.

  “Me neither.”

  “Good thing you don’t need to.”

  “No, but you do. Come.” He closed the window, then coaxed me toward the middle of the room where he’d placed his sleeping bag. “Lie down.”

  He laid next to me, cradling my head in the crook of his shoulder and wrapping a strong arm around my back. I inhaled his scent, a combination of fresh linen, mint, and something unique to him, a virile musk that warmed my insides.

  I thrust my chin upward to look at him. His eyes were closed, his perfect, angular nose pointed to the ceiling. The line of his jaw twitched a little. The moonlight outside shifted as a cloud moved out of the way. The change in illumination drew my attention toward the window. My heart faltered, fearing there was someone outside. I stared into the night, eyes wide. Nothing.

  I exhaled and chided myself. Nowadays, it seemed the slightest little things scared me.

  Shifting my attention back to Faris, I held my breath. Moonlight kissed his face, making his long, dark lashes look as if they’d been dipped in silver. He was achingly beautiful.

  He turned to face me. “Something wrong?” he asked. His lashes had gone back to normal, but now moonlight shone behind him, giving him a halo.

  “You’re an angel,” I said.

  “I am?” His eyes crinkled with mild amusement.

  I nodded.

  Our locked gazes smoldered, saying so much. He swallowed and took a deep breath. I moved closer an infinitesimal amount. He had made it an unspoken rule not to kiss me when we lay together, so I expected him to pull away as he normally did.

  He stayed put.

  I parted my lips and inched closer, expecting rejection, so it was a big surprise when the kiss became a reality. His lips welcomed mine, responding with infinite tenderness. He tightened his hold around my back and brought his free hand to my waist. Our kiss deepened and our agitated breaths went in and out in unison.

  My hands found their way inside his unbuttoned shirt. His skin was silky under my hands, stretched over the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen. His pecs tensed at my touch, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he parted my lips with his tongue and tasted me.

  Breathing hard, he pulled me against him, trailing kisses that led from my jaw down to my neck. An involuntary sound in the back of my throat let him know the deep pleasure his touch gave me. His caresses stopped abruptly. He froze with his face buried in my neck.

  The spell was broken.

  Suddenly, he started shaking. He was laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked, feeling self-conscious. Had I done something wrong?

  He laughed a little more then finally asked. “What do you do to me?” He pulled away and looked into my eyes. “You bewitch me with your guiles.”

  “I do not! You’re the only one with bewitching powers around here, mister. I think it’s the other way around. As a matter of fact, I think you’re working one of those whims on me.” Whims, as opposed to full-blown wishes, were new to him. He had used them for the first time to stealthily follow Akeelah’s portals and rescue me in Spain.

  His smile disappeared. “Nothing about the way I feel about you is a whim, Marielle Iris. Nothing, I assure you.”

  Our gazes locked again, the same wa
y they had right before we started kissing. Abruptly, he disentangled himself and jumped to his feet. “I think we’ve made our own heat.” He laughed, buttoned his shirt and walked back to the window.

  I went to sleep, watching him. I still missed him by my side, but this was better than nothing.

  8

  Akeelah

  Akeelah felt the buzz of magic rippling in the air. She would have known it was Andy even if he weren’t the only one outside of his bottle. His magic had a chaotic feel that was impossible to mistake.

  A portal tore open in front of her jeweled throne and Andy and Gallardo staggered out of it.

  “Take your hands off me, hijo de puta!” Gallardo pushed away from Andy, an indignant expression on his weathered face. He straightened his tweed jacket, jerked his shoulders and struck a haughty pose. He gave Andy a disdainful glare from under his raised nose.

  Andy ignored him. He’d never been susceptible to anyone’s efforts to diminish him and, now that he was a half-djinn, that fact held true more than ever.

  “I have brought him. Your wish is my command, Dark Lady,” Andy said with an exaggerated bow.

  She could do without the mock submissive behavior, but Andy’s irreverence had always been part of him, and she didn’t have time to try to change it. He served her better than all the others, anyway. Therefore, he was worth the minor trouble. Though that didn’t mean she had to put up with him any longer than necessary.

  “Be gone!” Akeelah said with barely a glance in his direction.

  As Andy disappeared and returned to his bottle, the air closed in on the spot where he’d been standing, leaving behind a satisfying silence that eased Akeelah’s strained temper.

  “How dare he jostle me like this?” Gallardo demanded.

  Akeelah rose from her throne. “I asked him to bring you back, and so he has.”

  “Well, he ought to know his place. You must teach him better manners. That or send someone else.”

  Akeelah took a step toward Gallardo and cocked her head to one side. “Is that so?” She gave free rein to her hatred, letting it ooze and crawl up Gallardo’s legs.

  He gave a visible shiver and hunched his shoulder ever so slightly. “Just a suggestion. He’s too wild and might hurt me. After everything I’ve done for your cause, I think I deserve better.”

  Is that what he thinks? Poor deluded devil.

  “Of course you do,” Akeelah lied. “You have done much thus far. Though you are far from done aiding my cause, as you put it. But there’s no changing Andy and”—she extended a hand toward the crate that served as a pedestal to her subjects; the glass bottles shone under the overhead lights—“the others seem to be turning just as wild as he is.” She shook her head. Their growing savagery served her purposes, but made their glass prisons necessary. She could only take so much of their boisterousness.

  Gallardo’s mustache twitched with displeasure, but he let the subject go. “You need me, then?” He looked around the warehouse and wrinkled his nose.

  To Akeelah, it seemed if there was someone who needed to observe good manners and know his place, it was Gallardo. He would have to be taught. Eventually.

  “You were gone long enough.” Akeelah paced by him. Her eyes flickered toward the cage that hung from the rafters.

  The girl’s father had his face pressed between two of the metal bars. He jerked away, like a scuttling bug crawling under a rock, as if he could hide from her. Akeelah could see him perfectly through the wooden bottom as he huddled into a tight ball, praying to be forgotten. He never would be, at least not until she exacted her revenge.

  “Yes, I needed you here,” Akeelah continued.

  Gallardo straightened, setting his shoulders at a proud angle. He was a smart man who could easily foresee future paths. Surely, he’d been worried about the expiration date on his usefulness. Knowing he was still needed had to be a relief and an ego booster that would get him fully on her side again. Self-centered Dross were so easy to manipulate.

  After he had given her the secret to making half-djinn who could hurt humans, and she consequently created the first valuable member of her army, Akeelah had been too ecstatic to give Gallardo the credit he thought he deserved. Acting hurt and resentful, he had taken his leave and gone to London, looking for the validation he so desperately desired. Judging by how long he’d stayed, he either hadn’t gotten it or was a glutton for attention. She suspected the latter.

  “And what can I do for you this time?” he asked in a grating tone that made her anger flare.

  “I want to hear your ideas on what you called ‘world domination.’”

  His eyebrows did an involuntary wiggle that betrayed his satisfaction.

  She had declined to listen to his ideas before, when she’d been full of anticipation and blood lust, when the extermination of mankind had seemed easy and worth her time. After the first few exhilarating hunting excursions, however, the activity had turned tedious, especially now, as her prey opted for hiding inside their filthy dens. Now, killing any number of them was akin to flushing cockroaches out of abandoned buildings.

  “World domination,” Gallardo repeated, savoring the words. “A much better option than total extermination, as I said before. Not everyone is a total waste of space. Most, yes, but not everyone. We need to separate the righteous from the tainted.”

  The righteous from the tainted? She wondered which of the two he was interested in keeping. For her part, she didn’t care about their morality, just their deaths and suffering.

  She played along, though. “And how do you propose we do that? It’s not like they bear a sign on their foreheads to help tell them apart.”

  “They don’t have to.” He smiled. “You don’t even have to find them yourself. They will come to you. Willingly, I might add.”

  This piqued Akeelah’s attention. If they would come to her, Gallardo’s idea was definitely of interest. “I’m listening.”

  “It’s easy, just a matter of understanding the human psyche, as well as our history. They have never seen anything like you. You have but lived in our imagination. Not exactly as you are, mind you, but in different shapes and forms, and with different names.”

  Akeelah retook her throne, drinking in Gallardo’s every word. She sat, back straight, hands on the armrests. She could have been a statue, a glorious thing with limbs carved from obsidian and twinkling emeralds in place of eyes.

  “Many have been searching for you, desperately,” Gallardo went on. “They need little or no excuse to believe you are who they’ve been looking for. And once they find you, they’ll do anything for you. They’ll worship you, kiss the ground you walk on, die for you. Because you are the closest,” Gallardo paused for effect, “they will ever get to the god they’ve been craving for.”

  Akeelah stood, her essence whirling within the confines of her physical body.

  God.

  “Tell them you are God, and they will follow you to the scorching depths of the Earth.” Gallardo’s face lifted in delight, the depths of his eyes swirling with possibilities.

  She could feel something similar swimming within her own eyes, spelling out plans far better than the ones she’d imagined thus far, plans quite different from the one this weak man had in mind. She cared not for followers. Her only aim was eradication.

  “Genius,” she said. “Complete genius.”

  Gallardo’s mouth twisted in satisfaction.

  Ridiculous man. He thought she was referring to him. She most certainly was not.

  9

  Marielle

  My arms felt like overcooked spaghetti noodles, but I kept at the hand pump. It squeaked as the lever moved up and down and water sloshed into the half-filled bucket under the spout. Sweat slid into my eyes. I swept the back of my wrist over my forehead, leaving a dark stain on the sleeve of my gray hoodie. It was a crisp, forty-degree morning, but pumping water from the well was quite the workout. I slid my hoodie off and threw it on top of the dry, overgrown grass
.

  I began pumping again, my ears filled with the sounds of the blowing wind, the screeching pump and the rushing water. Shafts of sunlight pierced through the oak trees that sprawled around the plantation house. The dry grass beyond the pump was two or three feet high, swaying lightly.

  I stopped to wipe the sweat off my brow again and rest my sore arms.

  “I think we have enough water.”

  My heart lurched forward. I jumped and turned around.

  Faris stood behind me. “I’m sorry. I thought you heard me coming. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  I exhaled and told my heart to settle down, though now it was racing for very different reasons. Faris was wearing a black t-shirt tucked into black cargo pants tucked into heavy boots. His dark, silky hair was wet and combed away from his forehead, though a few strands had started to get loose. The pants and shirt fit his body like perfect gloves, accentuating his pecs and narrow hips. If I had to guess, I’d say these were clothes he had procured with magic a while back. He’d probably brought them from his house. They fit too perfectly to be store-bought.

  “Nice outfit,” I said, getting close and wrapping my arms around his waist.

  He made a sound of pleasure in the back of his throat and hugged me back. “Everyone’s up and you’ve practically filled every container of water we have.” He looked down at the ten or so buckets I’d filled to the brim. “You didn’t have to do that. The well isn’t going anywhere.”

  “Yeah, but Akeelah could poison the water.” I pulled away and started snapping lids on the buckets. The construction worker had left them behind.

  “I think the well is safe. It’s the people in the city who use the public services who are at risk.”

  “I don’t think we can be too safe.” I tried to snap one of the lids on, but it wouldn’t budge. I beat it into place with the heel of my hand.