That seemed to be enough for now. Jillian emerged onto the porch, and the dog got up from where he’d been waiting there, tail wagging. She would never know who his owners had been or where exactly he’d come from, but clearly he’d been well trained.
“What would you like for a name?” she asked him. His head cocked to one side, and one ear went straight up while the other remained flopped over. His left eye had a large black spot surrounding it, making him look as if he was wearing an eye patch. Well, that would work. He definitely did have patches all over. “Does Patches sound good to you?”
He let out a short, sharp bark, and even got up on his hind legs and danced around, the feathers on his tail flying. One paw almost caught on her sequined skirt, and she took hold of it before it could do any damage.
“Be careful,” she warned him, but clearly he wasn’t too put off by her tone. His tail wagged ferociously, and he shared another of those happy doggy smiles with her. Looking at his obvious enthusiasm, she wondered if the name she’d chosen for him was actually the one that had been his all along. It was kind of obvious after all, considering his coloring. She couldn’t quite figure out what he might be, though. Part terrier, definitely, but with a few other things mixed in. Possibly Papillon, too, because of those lopsided ears. Definitely one-hundred-percent good old American mutt, and there was nothing wrong with that.
She looked down the street and saw Aldair approaching. Unlike her, he was empty-handed, and she wondered if his trip to the coffeehouse had been less than fruitful. When he drew near, she asked, “Were they out of coffee?”
“Not at all,” he replied. For the barest second, his gaze moved over her, clearly taking in her new and improved appearance, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he went on, “I found a number of useful things, but I sent them on ahead. Why carry them back uphill if there is no need to?”
“Of course.” Yes, that would be useful. Locate the items you need, and send them instantaneously to your house. No loading and unloading, no schlepping shopping carts around.
“As I can do for you,” he added.
And the heavy purse she’d been carrying was suddenly gone, the weight of it disappearing from her shoulder. She gasped, then told herself to relax. He had told her what he intended to do, even though it had happened much more quickly than she’d expected.
“Um…thanks.”
“It is not a problem. But there are more places to explore while we’re here. Shall we?”
She nodded, and followed him down the street to the mercantile building, which probably would have some things they could use. As she walked, though, she had to wonder what his plans were. Right now he was acting like he wanted to stock up for the winter.
And winter was still a long ways off….
Chapter Six
He was doing his best not to be distracted by her. Difficult, after she’d made such a transformation as the one he’d just witnessed. When he approached her as she waited outside the boutique, he had to keep his eyes from widening in appreciation. The clothing she’d selected wasn’t particularly snug or revealing, but it fit her well, hinting at the curves beneath. Her bare arms were slender, with just a suggestion of the toned muscles under her lightly tanned skin. And then there were her feet, nearly bare in the beaded sandals she wore. He hadn’t been expecting the dark pink polish on her toes, since her fingernails were bare and cut fairly short.
Something about that polish, and the delicate ankles and toes the skirt revealed, made him want to stare. Again he had to fight back a surge of desire, telling himself he had no time for such things, especially not with a mortal woman.
Luckily, he had other matters to distract himself with, such as going through the mercantile building so he could create another pile of possibly useful items to be sent back to the house. All of the food stocked in the store had long since rotted, and he certainly had no need of any of the bottled sugary drinks in the now-dark refrigerated case, even if they were still viable. But he collected bags of nuts that might still be good, while Jillian gathered a group of pillar candles from the display on a table placed up against one wall.
“We have no need of those,” he pointed out. “The house has solar power, and even if that should fail, I can keep the lights going.”
“True,” she replied, “but if the power does fail and it’s really hot, I’d rather you used that djinn energy to keep the air conditioning on. That’s where candles could be useful.”
He thought that prospect rather unlikely, but he didn’t argue. If she wished to have a batch of useless candles cluttering up the place, then so be it.
At length they had gleaned everything that looked remotely useful, and he sent it all on to the homestead as well. He glanced down at the pretty but flimsy sandals she wore and asked, “Would you prefer to have me fly you back to the house?”
Her eyes widened in surprise, but then she shook her head. “No, I’m fine walking. Besides, I’ve got Patches to worry about. I doubt he’d enjoy flying through the air, fifty feet above the ground.”
The dog, of course. Aldair had almost forgotten about him, because he’d been waiting patiently on the porch while they searched the mercantile. A well-behaved animal, it seemed, and so he wouldn’t argue the point. “No, I suppose the dog would not enjoy that very much.” He paused and sent Jillian a quizzical look. “Patches?”
“Well, I had to name him something, and it seemed to fit. And you know, we’ve scrounged all this stuff, but I didn’t see any dog food. I might have to start looking in the other abandoned houses.”
“No need for that. I can summon that as well if necessary. It helps to have certain items on hand, because that way I don’t have to expend as much energy to get them. But it would be easier for me to bring the dog food here rather than have you go on a house-to-house search looking for it.”
She gave a dubious nod, as if she was still trying to work out the mechanics of his djinn powers, and what they were and weren’t capable of. But she didn’t argue the point, which was the important thing. Aldair did not want to have to continually explain himself to her.
They headed back toward the house, Patches running on ahead. It seemed clear enough that the dog was thrilled to have found new masters. Where the rest of the town’s canines had gone, Aldair didn’t know. Perhaps they were still out foraging in the hills, happy to be free now that they had the run of the place, could go from house to house with impunity. For some reason, though, this dog had chosen to come to them, and he wouldn’t argue the matter.
After all, if Jillian had a dog to look after, then perhaps she would be less inclined to push him about returning to Los Alamos.
The walk back to the house was uphill the whole way. Aldair gave Jillian a sidelong look, but she appeared to be managing well enough, even in those flimsy sandals she had chosen. Not that he minded the footwear; it was good to see her looking like a female.
Or perhaps not, he thought as she ranged a little ahead, smiling as Patches circled back to her and wagged his tail once again. Because having a beautiful woman around all the time may prove to be difficult.
Perhaps. In the meantime, he found he enjoyed watching her, seeing the way her cloudy gray eyes lit up as she stopped and bent to scratch the dog’s ears, noting how the sunlight caught ripples of gold and warm copper in her long brown hair. Some weight seemed to lift from her shoulders as she played with the dog, and Aldair could not help but be glad of that. He had enough burdens of his own to carry; he did not wish to suffer hers as well.
Putting away their haul didn’t take much time, because Aldair whisked everything into its respective cupboards and drawers before Jillian could barely blink an eye. However, he hadn’t touched the items she’d procured for herself, and so she took some time hanging up the lovely new garments she’d found, arranging them by color and type, although even that didn’t take too long, either. It wasn’t as if she’d cleaned out the whole store, only selected items for three or four days’ worth
of wearings. She could always go back tomorrow for more, if she felt so inclined.
Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. She should be figuring out a way to persuade Aldair to let her go, not stocking up on her wardrobe…as fun and frivolous as that might be. Her gratitude must always go to the people of Los Alamos for their efforts in making the town a safe and viable community, but she had to admit that day-to-day life there ranked fairly low on the frivolity scale.
From the open window — because it hadn’t yet warmed up enough to warrant turning on the air — she heard a dog’s excited, happy bark. Startled by the sound, Jillian placed the scarf she had been holding in one of the dresser drawers, then went to the window and looked outside. Down in what had been the yard but was now mainly a scrubby collection of weeds, interspersed with late-summer wildflowers, she caught the incongruous sight of Aldair apparently playing ball with Patches. Aldair held a neon-green tennis ball in one hand and hurled it so the dog would have to go bounding after it. Obviously thrilled by this game, Patches tore after the ball and then trotted back, his tail with its modest black and white feathers flying like a banner in the breeze.
Now, where in the world would a djinn have learned to play tennis ball with a dog? True, Aldair had admitted he liked dogs, but still, she didn’t think she could have pictured him doing something as prosaic as throwing a ball and playing catch. He seemed far too dignified for that. But there he was, face brightened by a rare smile, as he reached down and wrestled the ball from Patches’ teeth and threw it again.
Something tight and painful within her seemed to relax somewhat as she watched them. Jillian hadn’t even known she was that tense until she felt herself pull in a breath of warm, sweetly scented air, letting it flood through her whole body. This was good. Yes, it seemed crazy to even admit such a thing to herself, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d witnessed anything as silly and joyful as a djinn and a dog playing ball together. Maybe she just hadn’t allowed herself to. It had been easier to ignore the few bits of beauty and happiness in this new world, so she could stay shrouded in her cocoon of grief.
She descended the stairs and emerged into the kitchen, then went out the back door so she could stand in the porch in the shade. “Having fun?”
Aldair turned toward her. He’d been in full sun, and she noted a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead…and on the sculpted muscles of his chest and stomach, although she didn’t dare let her gaze linger there for very long. “I thought it might be good for Patches to get used to me. He is quite energetic.”
“Yes, I think he’s a pretty young dog.” Young enough that he’d been born wild, after the Heat had removed all the humans from the town? No, that didn’t sound right. The dog seemed far too acclimated to people and their behavior. Still, she guessed he hadn’t been much more than a puppy when the world changed forever. No wonder he’d attached himself to her and Aldair so quickly.
At her words, Patches came bounding up to the porch, tennis ball in his mouth. When she reached down to take it from him, he pulled away slightly, tail going a mile a minute. She couldn’t help smiling, since her dog Alfie had liked to play much the same game. Not that the little chihuahua mix could manage a tennis ball, since his mouth was so small. But he’d had a special-sized ball of his own, one that he guarded fiercely…except when it came time to play fetch.
“Oh, so you want to play keep-away?” she asked with a grin.
The dog feinted backward, and she hurried after him, determined not to let him get away. Yes, maybe this would have been easier in tennis shoes, but she and Jack had played with Alfie in the depths of summer when Jillian only had on flip-flops, so it wasn’t as if she couldn’t manage. Although she had to admit that Alfie, with his much shorter legs, had been a lot easier to catch up with.
Aldair looked on in some amusement as she stumbled through the weeds, once or twice having to stop and rescue her skirt when it got caught on an overgrown stalk. But then Patches paused for a second to smell something interesting, and she was able to grab the ball from his jaws and throw it out onto the gravel driveway that led toward the garage. He chased after it while Jillian watched him in some triumph.
“It seems you’ve played this game before,” Aldair remarked as he came to stand a few feet away from her.
“Yes,” she said, her tone casual. At the same time, she did what she could to keep her eyes somewhat level with his. Those open robes he wore showed off way too much. She wasn’t used to being around a man with that much skin exposed. That much warm, gleaming skin…. Damn it. She gulped in a breath and added, “We used to have a dog. He was a rescue, so we got him he was older. We lost him about six months before…well, before.”
That revelation only elicited a nod, although Jillian thought she could see the way Aldair’s jaw muscles tightened. Was it the reference to the Dying that had bothered him, or the life she’d had with her husband?
No, that was definitely flattering herself. To hide her discomfort, she turned back toward the driveway and called out, “Come here, Patches!”
The dog bounded obediently toward her, but, true to form, he dodged out of the way the second she reached for the tennis ball. Aldair chuckled.
“Perhaps I should show him that we djinn have a few tricks up our sleeve.”
He curled his fingers slightly, and at once the ball came flying out of Patches’ mouth and landed neatly in Aldair’s palm. The dog’s eyes widened, as if even he had realized that something wasn’t quite kosher here.
“Isn’t that cheating?”
“No,” Aldair said. “I am merely using my own skills to counter his. I do not see that as cheating.”
Apparently neither did Patches, whose tail was wagging so hard that his hindquarters moved along with it. Jillian thought he looked delighted at this wrinkle in the age-old game. But she also realized how hot it was standing out here, how her hair had begun to stick to the back of her neck. And she wasn’t wearing any sunscreen. She was going to get fried if she stayed out in the yard for much longer.
“Well, you kids have fun,” she said. “It’s getting too hot for me out here. I’m going inside.”
Aldair glanced up at the sky. The day had started out cloudless, but a few big puffy clouds had begun to appear, promising rain by evening. That was how things usually went during monsoon season. “We will be in shortly,” he said. “I think another five minutes will ensure that Patches will take a long nap this afternoon.”
“Probably,” she agreed, then turned and headed back inside. The air in the kitchen still felt comfortably tepid, although not for much longer. When Aldair came in, she’d check to make sure if it was all right to turn on the air conditioning. She didn’t know whether it would work properly without him there to oversee it.
From outside came another of Patches’ excited barks, and Jillian shook her head. Obviously the dog didn’t find anything strange about their situation, but she didn’t know what she was supposed to think. For a few minutes there, life had felt fun. Normal. And oddly domestic.
She decided it was probably better not to think about that at all.
As Aldair had guessed, the dog fell asleep on the rug in the living room within minutes of coming inside. He’d stopped to swallow what looked like almost half the contents of the bowl of water Jillian had thoughtfully set out for him, nosed around the floor for a short time in case anything interesting to eat had been dropped there, and then collapsed in blissful exhaustion soon afterward.
It was good that he’d had water, but he would need food when he awakened. Aldair reached out with that sixth sense all djinn had, questing outward for something the dog could consume. As it turned out, he didn’t have to look very far, since it seemed that many of the households here had dog food in their pantries, along with canned and dry goods. He summoned a large unopened bag from a ramshackle house up the canyon, then opened it and poured a measure into a bowl he fetched from the cupboard.
At the clatter of the dry food into
the bowl, Patches came running, all wagging tail and excited grin. He put his head in the bowl and started crunching away, just as Jillian appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.
“So you found some.”
“Yes. There is a good deal available in town. Your idea to look for dog food here was a good one, although I believe I saved you some walking in the hot sun.”
“You did.” Her head tilted slightly at his words, as though she was not sure why he would have shown her such solicitude. “I still don’t know why we went poking through those stores if you could just bring anything we needed directly here.”
“Sometimes it is good to see things for oneself,” he replied. “I do not know this town. Now I know it a little better.” He raised an eyebrow at her, and allowed himself to give her new ensemble a rather piercing glance. “Besides, I did not think you would wish for me to select your new garments.”
A flush rose to her cheeks, one he did not think could be blamed entirely on the sun she’d been exposed to a short while earlier. “No, I suppose that’s something I needed to do on my own.” Appearing to gather herself, she went on, “I found out who this house belonged to.”
“Indeed?” he asked, trying to sound polite. Truthfully, he could not think why that mattered. Whoever had lived here, they were long gone.
“Her name was Natalie Marquez. I guess she was a fairly well-known artist. In that room upstairs, the one that must have been her studio, I found a stack of brochures that had been printed for an upcoming gallery show. It was supposed to be on October fifth.”
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