One Wish Away: Djinn Empire Complete Series

by Ingrid Seymour

  “Hey!” Faris pulled me up by the arm and forced me to look into his eyes. “Are you okay? You seem a bit . . . frantic.” He said the last word carefully, as if he expected me to yell at him for calling me that.

  I clenched my jaw and shook my head.

  Faris sighed. “I’ll find him, Marielle,” he said, fully aware of why I was so restless. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.”

  “What?” I demanded, full of suspicion. What was he planning? I didn’t like the cautious tone he’d used, not in the least.

  “I think you’re right and it’s possible that Akeelah—”

  I shook my head, feeling tears prickle in the back of my eyes. “You think she killed him.” It was a half question, half statement. My skin broke into goose bumps. My stomach went sour.

  “No, no, that’s not what I’m saying. He’s fine. I’m sure he’s fine.”

  “Sure? You can’t you be sure.”

  “Well, you can’t give up. You have to hope, right?” he asked, his tone a little angry.

  I frowned at him.

  “Look,” his tone switched to conciliatory, “Akeelah is a vengeful b—” He stopped and bit his lip.

  I had never heard him curse. It was endearing how he was always the gentleman in front of me.

  “She’s vengeful,” he continued, “and the grudge she holds against us is a big one. Think about it, we didn’t get the best of her once, but twice. She will never rest until she’s made us pay.”

  “Well, hurting Dad would definitely qualify as making us pay.”

  “Yes, but she would want us to know she did it. She would want us to watch her hurt him.”

  My throat closed up. I pressed a hand to my mouth.

  “I’m sorry. I’m trying to help, but I’m—”

  “I know what you’re trying to do. You want me to see that Dad’s still alive because she’s too much of a monster to just outright kill him.”

  “It’s awful but—”

  “It’s okay. I think you’re right.” Oddly enough, he had given me some of the hope I had lost.

  “Okay, good.” He nodded. “So what I was thinking is that I should go to that warehouse where she took me. Maybe she’s still there. Maybe she’s keeping Robert with her.”

  “I’ll go with you,” I said, heart pumping as I thought of Dad at the mercy of Akeelah.

  “No, no, no.” Faris shook his head. “That’s just—”

  “He’s my father, Faris. You can’t ask me to sit here waiting.”

  He took a step back and stood firmly, looking down at me. “And what do you think you would accomplish besides getting yourself killed?” His tone was harsh, harsher than it’d ever been with me. “She has thirty half-djinn fully capable of hurting you. I might be able to stop one of them, but not the other twenty-nine. I would never put you in that kind of danger.”

  “It’s not up to you to decide what I do.”

  Faris lowered his head, looked at his boots and took a deep, calming breath. “I know that, but—”

  “You guys better get back in here and listen to this!” Abby yelled at us as she came running around the corner of the house. “You’re not gonna believe what that crazy bitch is doing now.”

  Faris and I exchanged a panicked glance, then hurried after Abby into the house. My heart pounded as we rushed up the porch steps and into the kitchen. The certainty that Akeelah’s game had just changed for the worse gnawed at my insides.

  Fear bloomed in my chest as a chilling voice I knew well echoed through the empty house, snaking its way into my body and twisting itself around my bones.

  It was Akeelah.

  For a terrible instant, she sounded as if she was in the room with us, as if she had found us and this was the end. But her voice was coming from Javier’s small shortwave radio.

  We listened in horror, her words chilling our very souls.

  10

  Akeelah

  The man pushed a large microphone in Akeelah’s direction, indicating it was ready. His hand trembled as he pulled it away and looked down to fiddle with the control panel in front of him.

  The radio station had been Vic’s idea. This man was his friend and was supposed to ensure her message was properly delivered. She could have magically coerced the equipment to do its job, but she’d wanted to focus on her words.

  She was ready to put Gallardo’s plan into practice, along with a few modifications she was certain he would not appreciate. She watched him standing on the other side of a thick glass window, Vic by his side.

  The padded room around her was strange and cramped. She would have preferred doing this by her own means, but the world was too ample for even her powers to easily do so. And this would spread her message a lot faster than using only magic.

  “Whenever you’re ready,” Vic’s friend said, his eyes never leaving the many levers and buttons under his sweaty hands.

  Everywhere around the city, radios were clicking on by themselves and tuning into the correct station. Her bastard djinn were making sure of that.

  A communiqué from God should know no impediments.

  “You, my faithful servants,” Akeelah began in the same voice she’d chosen centuries ago, “already know the time of reckoning is here.”

  Gallardo had suggested she should use a male voice. God was thought to be male, after all. It would make it easier for people to believe, he had said. But it was a ridiculous concept. The Creator was no more male or female than Akeelah herself. She was essence, a sentient manifestation of energy. If she chose to present herself as female, it had all to do with aesthetics, not a misguided, man-conceived illusion.

  “You have been praying,” she continued, “and I have been listening. I heard you before and I hear you now. The world was in chaos and you sensed this time was near.

  “You were right.”

  Each and every single one of them would think she was delivering a personal message, an answer to their questions, prayers, fears.

  A solution to all the evils of the world.

  “Corruption and depravity eat away at the soul of so many men and women. Humanity has reached a tipping point. It has squandered chance after chance, ignoring my calling.”

  Behind the glass, Gallardo nodded his approval. Vic chewed on a toothpick, eyes narrowed, judgment held back until further notice. He knew well not to make any assumptions.

  “Now the time to make amends has come to an end, and the time for something quite different is at hand. My benevolence and patience have reached their limit. Those who have used their free will to destroy, corrupt, and murder shall be no more.”

  Her voice rose. It rang out strong, righteous and true. Maybe she wasn’t The Creator, but her patience had certainly run out. Humans had enjoyed their free will long enough. They were privileged in a way that she was not. They enjoyed finite, easily fulfilled lives, saw their flaws and virtues reflected in their offspring’s eyes, enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh. They had all the things her kind was denied, though they deserved none of it.

  And, now, she had the chance to take it all away, and she was not going to miss that opportunity.

  “A systematic cleansing has already begun, and many have met with the consequences of their depraved actions. Judgment is nigh for many more. Murderers, thieves, adulterers, all of those who have not upheld my teachings.”

  The man at the controls shrank and covered his face as if to hide all the wrong he’d done during his miserable life.

  “Sinners, infidels,” she made those words echo and linger for a few moments, “it is time to meet your maker and the judgment of your peers.”

  Gallardo frowned at this. Akeelah showed him a smile. His frown grew deeper.

  “But you who have been true and firm in your belief, you will sit to my right and to my left and will inherit the earth for now and forever.

  “Come. Join me. Wear my seal and be my disciples. I will be waiting for you.”

  ***

  “The
judgment of your peers?! Be my disciples?!” Gallardo exclaimed, loosening the tie he wore around his thick neck. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Akeelah walked past him, ignoring his outraged, bugged-out eyes. He followed along, lumbering and ungraceful.

  “What you intend is . . .” His scholarly vocabulary failed him.

  “Genius,” Vic finished for him.

  They walked out of the radio station. Akeelah stopped on the sidewalk and looked to the blue afternoon sky. She closed her eyes and slid into The Blink, searching and sensing her army’s magical powers. Each of her subjects’ magic had its own distinctive feel, its own brand. She could find them wherever they went, if she so wished. She didn’t look for them often, though. They knew to return, lest they provoke her anger. As a matter of fact, they were already on their way, after a job well done.

  Before sliding back into the physical realm, she searched for a particular brand of magic that had eluded her for some time. Looking for Faris had become a compulsion she would be unable to shake off until she found him, along with his pet.

  They will come soon.

  She had the girl’s father, and they would eventually come looking for him. Without the use of magic, it was possible they were still on the other side of the world, but they were resourceful. They would return. She knew this was true, but she could not help reassuring herself over and over.

  “This is not the best way to go about my plan,” Gallardo said in an irritatingly reasonable tone. “It will be anarchy. You will have no control over who lives or dies, over who’s left.”

  Akeelah looked down at Gallardo. “Who said I wanted leftovers?”

  “You did. You called it a culling.”

  “I did, didn’t I? I guess that was for your benefit, to convince you to help me create my army.”

  “In case you need a reminder,” Vic said, “that happened around the time when the only thing on your mind was sticking it to your stodgy Oxford friends.” He stepped forward and straightened his jacket. He was wearing a brand new suit that fit his athletic figure perfectly—a far cry from the cheap clothes he’d worn when he first joined Akeelah. “But it seems you bit more than you can chew, and you’re not ready for this.”

  “And you were?” Gallardo glowered at Vic, his eyes ready to pop out of his head. “She’s talking about the extermination of the human race. That includes you, in case you’re too stupid to realize that.”

  Quicker than Akeelah had ever seen a human move, Vic turned on Gallardo, pushed him against the radio station’s glass door and pressed a large gun to his temple.

  “The only one too stupid to realize what’s going on here is you,” Vic hissed into Gallardo’s face.

  For a short instant, Gallardo stood frozen, his eyes wide and panicked. But the fear in his gaze did not last and was quickly replaced by a determination he’d never seemed to possess. Surprising even Vic, he swung a heavy hand to one side and knocked the gun out of his attacker’s grasp. The gun clattered to the sidewalk and slid under a parked car.

  With a mad growl, Vic clenched his fists and delivered an explosive jab into Gallardo’s stomach. The older man’s face tightened into a twisted grimace, but that was the extent of his reaction. He bunched his own fists and lifted them, squaring his shoulders and legs like a boxer. He threw a punch that missed Vic’s face by a mere inch.

  Akeelah watched in amusement as the men circled each other, throwing punches like children in a schoolyard, trying to prove who was the top dog. Clearly, they’d forgotten there was only one top anything, and it wasn’t a dog, but a Djinn.

  When she got tired of their hormone-ridden display, she pressed her hands together, held them in their direction, then pulled them apart. The men slid away from each other as if on conveyor belts. They didn’t stop until they were ten feet apart.

  “You waste my time,” Akeelah said.

  With a flick of one finger, she made the gun fly from under the car straight into Vic’s hand. He wrapped his fingers around the shiny grip and stared at it in surprise.

  “Bring him to the warehouse,” she ordered. “If he resists, shoot him.”

  “You can’t do that,” Gallardo protested. “After what I’ve done for you.”

  Akeelah shook her head. Why was everyone so gullible? They made it far too easy for her.

  “You promised me power, retribution,” he reminded her.

  “And you shall have it.”

  Gallardo took a step back, his blue eyes growing dark as his pupils doubled in size. He was beginning to understand.

  “You won’t be able to kill everyone,” he said, attempting to drive the focus away from himself. “It’s impossible. Many will hide. You can’t find every last human soul.”

  She didn’t dignify that with a response. Nothing was impossible, not for her, not against puny humans. It would take time, true, but she had plenty of that.

  “Don’t worry,” Vic mocked, “I’m sure your Oxford colleagues won’t manage to hide. They’ll be taken care of.”

  “You can’t possibly agree with her plans. You’re insane!”

  Vic smiled lopsidedly. “The pot calling the kettle black.”

  “You won’t get away with it,” Gallardo declared, his tone too certain for her liking.

  She took two steps closer, nostrils flaring. “Who will stop me?”

  He averted his eyes, hiding something from her.

  She was certain of that.

  “Someone will,” he mumbled.

  “WHO?!” she demanded.

  Gallardo started, but didn’t look quite as scared as she would have like. Instead, his gaze darted in Vic’s direction, the only one with the ability to hurt him—though not necessarily the power to do it. That belonged to Akeelah. One word from her lips, and Vic would blow Gallardo’s brains out.

  “There’s Faris,” Gallardo blurted out.

  Akeelah laughed. Vic followed suit.

  Ridiculous!

  Except Gallardo’s words had felt slithery, like snakes striking a deceiving blow then rushing to hide under the brush. He had counted on the preposterous quality of his statement.

  She searched his weathered face as if to read the truth in the grooves over his brow and the spider webs at the corners of his eyes. She focused, trying to divine the real answer behind his act—but human nature sometimes confused her with its many emotions: sadness, hope, happiness, lust, love. Her essence was made of the purest anger and hatred. Nothing else. How was she supposed to comprehend everything those blue eyes harbored in their depths?

  “He’s hiding something,” Vic said, also sensing the duplicity. He came closer and aimed the gun at Gallardo’s head.

  For a long moment, they stood there, forming a fateful triangle.

  This cowardly man thought Faris could put up a fight? Or was that an attempt to divert her attention? There was no way anyone could stop her, much less that Dross-loving weakling.

  Something strange seemed to crawl through her essence, a repressed fear that throbbed in a new, indescribable manner. Was it doubt? Had this insignificant creature made her question her might? She had never doubted herself. Never. She didn’t appreciate the strange sensation.

  “Speak!” she ordered. “Or meet your end. I’m sure Vic will gladly deliver you from your miserable existence.”

  “With pleasure,” Vic said, checking his aim to make the point.

  Akeelah used her magic to tighten Gallardo’s tie. She could do no more than give him discomfort, and, though she deeply desired more power over him, she enjoyed the sight of his reddened face, nonetheless.

  “What makes you think anyone can stop me, much less Faris?” she demanded. “How could he or anyone ever accomplish such a feat? There’s no match to my power or that of my army.”

  Gallardo stuck a thick finger between his neck and collar and swallowed. His expression wavered as if he were weighing, measuring, curating his next remark. When he finally spoke, his words wormed themselves into her essence and
permanently planted the corruption of doubt into her core.

  “Leave me alone, Djinn. Your magic holds no sway over me,” he said, his confidence and recklessness giving Akeelah the certainty that he knew something she didn’t.

  With her magic thus repelled, his tie immediately loosened. Inhaling deeply, he stretched his neck and removed the useless garment. His mouth twisted into a satisfied smile. His chin lifted a couple of righteous inches.

  Akeelah’s essence roiled within the confines of her physical shape.

  “Boy, are you stupid?” Vic shook his head and, in one quick motion, slammed the butt of his gun against Gallardo’s temple.

  The large man’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. He swayed for a moment, then collapsed to the ground like a building overdue for demolition.

  Vic looked at Gallardo down the length of his nose and poked the man’s sizable stomach with the tip of his shoe. “Don’t worry, I’ll make him sing.”

  11

  Faris

  Everyone stared at the radio. It sat in the middle of the kitchen island, delivering static now. No one seemed able to lift a finger to turn it off. I was just as paralyzed as everyone, asking myself why I never realized this might happen.

  Marielle reached over and intertwined her fingers with mine, looking for someone to ground her the same way I needed to be grounded after hearing Akeelah’s heinous message.

  Finally, Javier took a step forward and pressed the off button. The static turned to unbearable silence.

  He looked around, a puzzled look in his kind eyes. “I’m hopin’ my broken English was a lot worse than normal.” Benito walked to his father’s side and took his hand as if to offer support. The boy didn’t understand half of what was said, but he could certainly tell when his father looked upset.

  Helen dropped the hand she’d moved to her mouth and spoke in a frightful whisper. “No one could possibly wish to join her?” She seemed surprised at her own words, as if she hadn’t expected them to take the shape of a question.

  “Oh, people will join her, all right,” Samuel said. There was still bravado in his voice, but something else too. Maybe a bit of reason and fear had finally managed to pierce through his adolescent bluster.