One Wish Away: Djinn Empire Complete Series

by Ingrid Seymour

  She looked at me, eyes wavering with unshed tears. It felt so wrong to tell her she could be herself again when her body lay at her feet, a reminder of the fear and torture she had just endured.

  Knowing she needed the support as much as I did, I walked to her and wrapped my arms around her, turning her away from the ghastly scene. She was cold, the imprint of death very much with her, still. Her essence washed over me, making me dizzy. I ignored the way it made me feel—intoxicated and oddly alive—and focused on the moment.

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” I whispered. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to prevent it. But I’m here now. I’m here now.”

  Behind Marielle, Zet crouched by her body and inclined his head to one side, trying to tell me something. I frowned. He shook his head as if I was being dense, then disappeared along with the body. The room went back to normal, everything in its place, every drop of blood erased from existence—the burden removed from Marielle’s sight.

  My brother.

  My brother who had given her back to me, even though, for centuries, he’d blamed me for losing his own love. If I had doubted whether or not he had truly forgiven me, those doubts were gone now.

  “I . . . I . . .” Her voice trembled. She was unable to finish.

  I pulled away, composed my face, and silently tried to convey a message to her: You can lean on me. For strength. For anything you need.

  “I died,” she said, and the phrase was a statement and a question.

  “I should have prevented it. I’m sorry. I would do anything to go back and spare you those horrible moments.”

  She ignored my apology and went on. “And now, I’m . . . I’m a Djinn.”

  I nodded, even though there was no need for it. “You can be human again. Just wish it so, and you’ll go back to normal.”

  She frowned as if having trouble processing this. Looking over her shoulder, she searched for her body. When she didn’t see it, she seemed to panic.

  “Zet took it,” I said. “He’ll make sure it . . . gets a proper burial. It’s not you. You are here.” I tapped her chest. “And when you wish to be human again, the magic will give you back your body as it was.”

  “How are we here? In the shack? How did you manage to get away from Akeelah”

  “It was . . . it was all Zet. He saved you. I was . . . useless.”

  She looked up at me, frowning. It was a confused expression I’d seen on her face many times. Maybe it was crazy but it filled me with relief and the conviction that she would be herself again.

  She was strong, unlike anyone I had ever met. I was lucky she had chosen me.

  Stepping closer, she lifted a hand and pressed it to the side of my face. “I thought I had lost you.”

  “You thought you had lost me.” A sad smile escaped me. I wanted to tell her not to fret over that. I was fine. But she seemed in need of something else to focus on, so I let her.

  “When the demon took you and you didn’t come back, I thought it had devoured you. You told me they consume those they capture. I was sure you . . . what happened exactly?”

  “You kept me alive. The thought of coming back to you, I don’t know, it helped me hold on, even though the demon constantly pulled at me, tried to undo me. It was close. If Zet hadn’t intervened when he did, it would have been too late.”

  “How is he a Djinn again?” She looked as puzzled as I felt.

  “I think he showed Ma’ Gee what to do. He says being human doesn’t please him anymore. But we haven’t had a chance to talk. When they told me you weren’t there, I knew you’d gone to help your father, so I left straight away. What were you thinking, Marielle?”

  “That I hadn’t much else to live for.”

  I took her hand in mine. “But you—”

  “Don’t argue with her, Romeo,” Zet appeared close to the front door. “You tried to do the exact same thing.”

  Marielle’s gaze darted between us. “What do you mean?”

  “He tried to become human again, stabbed himself. Fortunately, you were too dead to hear him.”

  She looked at me, her green eyes wide and sparkling with emotion. I’d told her I loved her—what she’d been wanting to hear for so long—and this is how she found out. I felt like a piece of rubbish. But the circumstances didn’t seem to matter to her—not if the sweet smile that stretched her lips was any indication.

  Her gaze flickered from my eyes to my lips and back again. I almost stepped forward to kiss her, but Zet’s presence held me back. The moment passed.

  Marielle’s expression changed suddenly. Her face disfigured into a grimace, and she began to pace, shaking her hands and clenching her fists as if she were gearing up for a fight.

  She whirled and faced Zet. “What did you do with my . . . body?”

  “Buried it in the backfield, under the oak tree,” he said.

  “You did?” Marielle and I asked at the same time.

  Zet shrugged. “I know what it means to you.”

  “How do you know that?” Marielle asked.

  “I . . . spied on you. A lot. Remember?”

  I didn’t want to remember. If I did, I would want to strangle him, even after all he’d done today.

  “And now I’m a Djinn,” Marielle said. “You turned me into a freakin’ Djinn!”

  Apparently, she hadn’t quite processed her new state, and the knowledge was assaulting her once more.

  Zet looked smug. “I did. And I think it opens up a room full of possibilities that we need to discuss.” He smiled wickedly.

  In that smile, I caught a glimpse of the brother who’d been more than willing to trap me inside a stone tablet for all eternity. It wasn’t the most pleasant experience.

  But I knew what he meant. I could practically read his mind.

  Yes, we definitely had a lot to discuss.

  42

  Marielle

  I stared at my fingers. They looked the same as they always had, but felt foreign, separate somehow. I flexed them, marveling at the way the joints bent, the way the skin stretched. They moved because I wanted them to move, but there was a certain emptiness in the motion. They were simultaneously me and not me.

  “Strange, isn’t it?” Zet said from his seat on top of the desk. “But you’ll get used to it.”

  I shook my head, tearing my eyes away from my alien fingers. “I don’t want to get used to it. I want to—” I was going to say I wanted to be human, but Zet didn’t let me finish.

  “Don’t!” He put a hand up to stop me. “Be careful what you say. You need to stay as you are, if you’re to get rid—”

  “Zet,” Faris interrupted him. He was standing next the rusted metal cabinet, his worried eyes fixed on me. “Let me explain.”

  Zet shrugged to concede.

  “Explain what?” I asked.

  Faris walked to me, to the swivel chair where I was sitting. He knelt and took my hand. “You don’t have to get used to it, if you don’t want to. I never have. I’ve never wanted to forget what it is to be human.” His dark eyes lifted to mine, full lips parting. I ran a hand through his silky, black hair, grateful for his kindness, for his understanding. I ignored the autonomous way my hand seemed to move, the terrifying sensation that I was possessed.

  “You didn’t?!” Zet asked in near horror.

  Faris ignored him. “You can become human again, anytime you wish, but . . .” He broke eye contact as if embarrassed of what he was about to say. “But I think you shouldn’t. Not yet.”

  I fought to understand why he would ask me to remain a Djinn, but I couldn’t think clearly. Everything felt so strange, so disconnected. “Why not?” I demanded.

  “Several reasons. For me, the first one is your safety. I know it’s selfish, but . . .” He put his hands up and shook his head. “Akeelah can’t hurt you if you’re a Djinn.”

  I struggled with the concept. I’d been afraid of Akeelah for so long that I couldn’t quite grasp the validity of what he was saying.
<
br />   “But that is not the only reason,” Faris continued. “All three of us, we’d be able to handle that demon. I don’t think we’d even need Ma’ Gee. Zet and I were able to dispatch this one well enough. But with you, I’m sure we’ll be able to control it properly, enough to send it after Akeelah.”

  Faris’s expression and voice were filled with a barely restrained plea. I think he wanted me to make my own decision, but it wasn’t easy for him to allow me the choice—not when choosing to stay a Djinn meant the chance of destroying that monster. I took his hand and squeezed it. Our gazes met again. A quiet understanding passed between us.

  He knew exactly how I felt.

  I considered for a moment, wondering how he could be willing to let me choose at a time when choosing was not an option. Akeelah would be the end of humanity if we didn’t do something. I couldn’t be selfish and decide to become human—not when remaining a Djinn restored our hope. It didn’t matter that panic climbed up my throat every time I stared at my own hands, every time I blinked and breathed.

  There was only one thing that could explain his willingness to let me choose, even though it was ludicrous.

  “You said you never wanted to forget what it is to feel human,” I said. He nodded. “Does that mean that you still . . .” I ran the tips of my fingers over the palm of his hand, over the crisscrossing lines. I felt its roughness. It was all there as it should be, but it was . . . I clenched my teeth, searching for the word.

  It was . . . not real.

  Incomplete.

  I clenched my teeth even harder, resisting the urge to jump out of this fake skin. Instead, I heeded the need to be solid, experiencing a tug of war between two things I didn’t want.

  “Does that mean you still feel incomplete?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Trapped. Bound. Torn. Limitless and limited at the same time. Pulled in a million directions, then condensed to a pinprick of nothing. Yes, I feel all those things and more. That’s why I won’t ask you to do something you don’t want to.”

  “Holy God, Faris. All this time?” Zet mumbled from his spot on the desk.

  Faris lowered his head in response.

  The pain I’d always seen in his eyes made sense for the first time since I met him. All along, he’d wanted to be human just as badly as I did at the moment. Except, he’d never had a choice—not the way I did.

  Millennia of this torturous suffering!

  How did he endure it?

  I pressed my forehead to his and cried for him. For his pain, his loneliness, his tremendous, brave heart.

  “I love you, Faris.” And unlike the many times I longed to hear him repeat those words back to me, this time I felt reverence for his strength. He’d denied himself—not me—those three words, in spite of his overwhelming pain.

  What a self-centered, spoiled little brat I had been, when he had gone through so much just to protect me.

  “I can do it,” I said. “For you. I’ll stay a Djinn for you.”

  “I beg to God it won’t be for long,” Faris said.

  I left the chair and knelt in front of him. “It doesn’t matter for how long. We’re in this together.” My love for him before today had been greater than anything I’d ever felt. But in the span of the last few minutes, it had transcended.

  I knew him now, really knew him.

  He was pure of soul and heart. He was selfless and brave.

  And he was mine.

  43

  Marielle

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Abby pushed me away from her tight embrace and held me at arm’s length. Her eyes danced over my face. She frowned, and I wondered if she could tell I was different now. She took a step back and seemed to shiver. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  They’d all been sitting on the porch—waiting, even when they had no idea if we would come—and when they saw us approach in a car Zet had stolen from the warehouse that neighbored the nursery, they all rushed to meet us. It was early morning of the next day. It had taken me this long to feel ready to face everyone. I’d been up all night, talking to Faris and Zet, asking questions about how it all worked, wondering when I would get sleepy. (I never did, never would need to sleep if I didn’t want to.) Now, the sky was bright and clear after the previous night’s rain.

  “You scared the crap out of us.” Maven gave me a quick hug, then pulled back, shaking his head in disapproval or, perhaps, something else.

  “Miss Mariella,” Javier and Anita stepped closer. They also looked wary, possibly of the situation, possibly of me. I tried to remember how it had felt the first time I’d seen Faris. I had been afraid, though the circumstances had been completely different. I’d had reason to be scared of him. Grandpa had warned me not to trust him. But maybe it had been more than that. Maybe some instinct that knew I was in front of a creature that shouldn’t be trusted.

  “We’re glad you’re okay,” Javier said.

  “Thank you.”

  My eyes found Ma’ Gee, sitting on a rocker, wrapped tightly in several sleeping bags as she worried at her beads. There were dark bruises under her eyes, and she looked sunken, reduced. Her dark gaze drilled into mine and something—maybe disappointment or disapproval—told me she knew what I had become, and that it had taken a hellbound beast to turn me into it. For a moment, I wondered if the demon had soiled me and made me evil. Was that what she was seeing? I shook my head, immediately realizing that was a stupid idea. All I had to do was look at Faris to know it was possible to remain good.

  “Oh, child,” she said when I approached. “Is it too high a price to pay?” she asked in a low voice only I could hear.

  I considered the question, then said, “No. Not at all. I have a choice. And for now, I choose this.”

  Ma’ Gee frowned. “A choice?”

  “What are you talking about?” Abby asked stepping behind me.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “A long story?” Maven asked. “You were only gone for—”

  “A lifetime,” I said and managed a smile. “Let’s go inside and I’ll tell y’all everything.”

  We went into the kitchen where it was a bit warmer, though not by much. While Helen helped Ma’ Gee along, Samuel hefted the rocking chair inside, set it down in a corner of the kitchen and helped the old woman sit. I was surprised by his gentleness toward her. Apparently, he wasn’t all bad.

  I looked around as everyone tried to find a comfortable spot in the furniture-bereft room. It was a sad setup that I now had the ability to fix. Tired of being afraid and of living this way, I leaned toward Faris and spoke in his ear. He nodded, agreeing.

  Abby frowned at me as I pulled away from Faris. She looked uneasy and suspicious. She’d heard my stories of Zet posing as Maven, so I didn’t blame her.

  Feeling everyone’s attention on me, I walked to Ma’ Gee and laid a hand on her wrist. Helping Zet rescue Faris had left her drained and, in their hurry, they had neglected to make her better. But I could help now. Without her, Faris would be lost. It was the least I could do.

  “Won’t the evil one find us if you do that?” Ma’ Gee asked in a whisper, reading my intentions like an open book.

  “She thinks I’m dead. Besides, she doesn’t know the feel of my magic.” I whispered back.

  I hadn’t used my powers yet, but this was a great place to start.

  I made my wish.

  Something shimmered before me, as if the air were splitting open to reveal its fiery core. It was a small slit, though big enough to show me that what lay on the other side was vastly different from the world I was used to. There was a certain pull from that other realm that called to me, to that new side of my nature that felt like an unwanted intruder. I recoiled from it, feeling that if I let myself be lured I might lose myself.

  Ma’ Gee let out a pinned up breath. It brought me back to the moment. I looked at her face in amazement. The color had returned to her cheeks. The bruises under her eyes had disappeared
. She blinked repeatedly and took a deep breath. She waved her arms, throwing the sleeping bags off her. Pushing to the edge of the rocking chair, she looked around, a smile stretching her age-withered lips.

  “Well, I’d better not get used to that!” she exclaimed.

  “What just . . . ?” Abby looked between Faris and Zet. “Did you just use magic? Isn’t that going to . . .” She looked to the kitchen entrance as if expecting Akeelah to burst in. Taking a cue from her, everyone seemed to go on high alert.

  I held my breath, still not trusting Faris and Zet completely. They’d told me there was no way for Akeelah to trace my magic, because she didn’t know what to trace. To her, my power would be like that of an unknown Djinn. But maybe there was a way, some loophole they hadn’t thought about.

  But if that was the case, I was ready to confront her. She had put us through hell and back. It was her turn.

  “Settle down, everyone,” Faris said. “There’s nothing to worry about. Akeelah doesn’t know the feel of Marielle’s magic.”

  “Marielle’s magic?” Maven turned to me and regarded me as if he’d never seen me before.

  “Ave Maria Purisima.” Anita made the sign of the cross.

  Helen put a hand to her breastbone.

  I shuffled from foot to foot, feeling like the bearded lady at the fair.

  “I knew it! I knew something was different!” Abby said.

  Hating their attention on me, I did the first thing that occurred to me to help them focus on something else. I wished for all the comforts we’d been lacking for weeks.

  A large table with ample chairs for everyone appeared in the breakfast nook. The temperature in the room rose from the low fifties to a comfortable seventy-eight degrees. Platters of food appeared on the island, next to pitchers of fresh-squeezed orange juice and pots of steaming coffee.

  Benito jumped in excitement, grinning from ear to ear in spite of the incredulous look in his eyes. He walked up to a tray of muffins and snatched two of them. “Pastelitos, Mamá!” He took a huge bite out of one of them. “Están de morirse.”