“Thank you, Jillian,” he said. “I am not sure that I deserve you, but I will endeavor to do so. And that is why….” A hesitation, as if he wrestled with something he didn’t know how to say. Then he went on, “That is why I would very much like to make you my Chosen.”
Shock rippled through her, and she held herself very still. Aldair’s hand was a weight on top of hers, not oppressive, but still, very much there. If she pulled away, he would think the worst, think she was rejecting him.
Yes, he had told her he loved her, but to go from that to saying he wanted to spend all of eternity, now to the end of time with her? That was a leap — a leap of faith, if nothing else. They had only spent a week together. Yes, a week where they were constantly together, practically in each other’s laps, but still….
“I…I don’t know what to say.”
“What is there to say? We care for one another. I do not want to see you age, or become ill. As my Chosen, you will share my health, and my years.” His expression clouded as his lips compressed. “Or was your talk of love something that only arose from the heat of the moment, and you fear that it can’t possibly last?”
“No,” she said at once. She needed to set him straight when it came to that notion, no matter what else happened. “What I said — what I told you — it’s not the sort of thing I say lightly. Only one other man has ever heard it from me, and he was my husband.”
Something about the set of Aldair’s shoulders seemed to relax slightly. “Then I do not see what the problem is. Is not everlasting youth and unending life something humans have dreamed of since the dawn of time?”
Jillian couldn’t argue with that. Except…she’d never been the type to yearn for more than what she’d been given. Her only dream had been to spend a long and happy life with Jack, and that when she passed from this world, to have known she’d had children who could carry on after she was gone. The children had been denied her, as had that life she’d dreamed of.
Children. She hadn’t even thought about it, caught up in the moment as she’d been, but right then she realized she’d had unprotected sex with Aldair. Twice. A tremor went through her, even as she tried to tell herself the chances of becoming pregnant were fairly remote, since her last period had ended just a few days before the lab accident that sent her on a collision course with Aldair al-Ankara.
“It’s something some humans have dreamed of,” she admitted. “I always thought a life well-lived was better than a life that lasted forever.”
“Well, now you can have both.”
Would it be a life well-lived, this life that her djinn offered her? Hard to say, when they were living here like fugitives. Yes, she’d enjoyed parts of her time here in Madrid, the quiet peace of this valley, the way she and Aldair and Patches had become an odd little family. But she knew that what they had here was terribly fragile.
“And a family?” she asked. “Have you ever wanted children?”
Those piercing blue eyes caught hers, and held. “Not until now.”
A shiver went through her. “So you would be willing to have children with me.”
“As many as you like.” One of his eyebrows lifted at an ironic angle, and he added, “Not that we have started our family yet, in case you were wondering. Among the djinn, we must decide consciously to procreate. Until that moment, lovemaking is simply that — shared pleasure, nothing more.”
She didn’t find anything particularly “simple” about sex with Aldair, since it was the most mind-blowing sex she’d ever had…even more so than when she’d been with Jack. It had been good, even great sometimes, but when Aldair made love to her, it was as if she’d been transported to a different plane.
And now he was offering her the family she’d been denied, and eternal life at the very pleasant physical age of twenty-eight. What woman could possibly turn down such an offer?
Not she. Jillian knew she wasn’t brave enough for that.
“Yes, Aldair,” she said softly. “I would love to be your Chosen.”
Chapter Seventeen
He had hoped that would be her reply, but until the words left her lips, he couldn’t be sure. She might have said she needed more time, and he would have had to respect her wishes.
But she looked at him with her gray eyes shining, and said that she would be his Chosen. So whatever doubts and fears she might have harbored earlier, they appeared to be gone now. And he would have to endeavor to prove himself worthy of her.
“I want to do it now,” he said.
Her eyebrows lifted. “Now? Won’t dinner get cold?”
Perhaps she was teasing him, ever so slightly. He found he did not mind so very much. “I only need to say a few words. And besides, have you not noticed that the meals I create for us never grow cold, no matter how long they might sit on the table?”
A curve of her lovely lips, and she shook her head. “I’m afraid I haven’t been that observant. I suppose all the times we’ve sat down together, you’ve been distracting me.”
Ah, well, he could not complain about that. “I will do my best not to distract you in the future.”
“No, I like it. I’d worry if you weren’t distracting me.”
He could only shake his head at that comment. All the same, he didn’t want to be sent off track himself. As he’d told her, the words that would bind her to him as his Chosen were not so very many. He cleared his throat, then met her gaze as he said, slowly and deliberately, “I claim this human woman as my own. Jillian Powell will be forever known as my Chosen, and we are now bound together for all eternity.”
A small silence fell after he had uttered those words. Then Jillian said, “So…that’s it? I’m now your Chosen? Am I supposed to say something?”
“No — the binding of a Chosen is done by the djinn. And yes, you are now Chosen. I told you, there are not so very many words involved.”
She glanced away from him and down at herself, as if expecting to see some material change in her person. “I don’t feel any different.”
“Nor should you. But my being is now bound with yours. While you do not have any true djinn abilities, you will never age a day beyond the age you are now, and you will never become ill. And if you should suffer some injury, it will heal quickly, and not impede you in any way.”
A breath escaped her lips, and she reached for her glass of wine so she might take a large swallow. “This is…a lot to take in.”
“Yes, I can imagine.” He offered her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “But you have all of time to learn what it means to be Chosen.”
This was all insane, wasn’t it? Just a few hours earlier, she’d tried to walk out of Aldair’s life, had convinced herself that she couldn’t possibly allow herself to have any feelings for him. And now she was irrevocably his, wedded to him mind, body, and spirit, forever.
Well, maybe not irrevocably. He’d relinquished his claim on Katelyn somehow. So how did Jillian know for sure that he wouldn’t do the same thing to her?
Because he wouldn’t, she told herself fiercely as they returned to their neglected dinner. He said he never cared for Katelyn, and he said he loves me, has never loved anyone before. That means a whole hell of a lot.
She watched him from beneath her lashes as he ate. How handsome he was. But it was more than those ridiculous good looks — she now saw something relaxed about him, as if he’d been holding on to a certain tension ever since they’d come here to Madrid, and now he could finally let it go.
Although maybe not all the way. Her thoughts returned to what she’d been brooding over earlier. Yes, she was bound to him now, but the alteration in their relationship didn’t change the fact that he was still, for all intents and purposes, a fugitive from justice. Maybe the Santa Fe djinn would never find them, tucked away here in Madrid…but what if they did?
“You are very quiet, my love,” Aldair said then.
“Am I? Just processing, I guess.” She set down the piece of roll she held and looked across the
table at him. “I suppose I’m worried.”
“Worried? Have I not reassured you that you are the only woman in the world for me?”
Despite her anxiety, Jillian couldn’t hold back the warmth that flooded through her at his words. He sounded so sure of himself, so sure of her, as if their love and happiness was such an irrefutable fact that he was mildly surprised she could harbor any doubts.
“No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just — ” She hesitated, glancing toward the window. Night had fallen by then, but she knew she looked more or less northward, toward Santa Fe. “It’s just that they’re out there. The Santa Fe djinn, I mean. I can’t help worrying about what will happen if they find us.”
“They will not,” he said calmly, although she didn’t miss the flicker of his eyes toward the window as well, as though something of her anxiety had communicated itself to him. “While they do have some space to roam within their territory, they would not come this far afield. No one will find us.”
“Not even one of the other djinn?” she asked. Although she’d never seen them in action, she’d heard stories of what the skies above Taos had looked like when they boiled with angry djinn, those who had sworn to rid the earth of any humans who were not Chosen.
This time, Aldair did not answer right away. His fingers clenched on the stem of his wine glass, so tightly that Jillian worried he might snap it in two. Somehow, though, the fragile glass did not give way. Jaw tight, he replied, “They have no reason to come here. It is clear that everyone in this town died in the Heat, and there is certainly nothing worth plundering.”
Well, except tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of Native American jewelry in the various shops. But she supposed if those murderous djinn suddenly wanted to start loading up on turquoise, they could do so in the far larger boutiques and shops in Albuquerque. “You’re sure?” she asked.
“Positive,” he said, reaching with his free hand so he might pour more wine into her glass.
She wished his words could have reassured her. Unfortunately, she’d caught another of those furtive glances toward the window, and thought he might be just as worried as she.
Problem was, she didn’t know what either of them could do about it.
Aldair would not allow Jillian’s concerns to unsettle him. Not now, when they’d just discovered the joy of being in one another’s arms. At least she had not offered any further arguments, had finished dinner as they speculated how long the storm would last, and then smiled in amazement and appreciation as he waved a hand and made all the leftovers on the table and all the dirty plates disappear, the uneaten food whisked away to be stored in the refrigerator, the dishes and glasses scrubbing themselves to sparkling newness as they returned to their respective cupboards.
And afterward they had gone up to his room — their room now — and made slow, languorous love for a good part of the night, exploring each other’s bodies, kissing or simply holding on to one another. Finally, they fell asleep, sharing in their respective warmth, while the rain still pounded overhead, even though at last the thunder and lightning had disappeared as the heart of the storm finally began to move away.
The next morning, he was glad to see that Jillian did not bring up any of her worries from the evening before. Instead, she snuggled up to him and was all too glad to share the shower once more, after they’d finally pried themselves out of bed. And since the day was so sparkling and clear, with no hint of the storm that had drenched the valley, save some puddles in the yard and on the roadway, she suggested they go to the next town over, tiny Cerrillos, only a few miles up the road.
“Surely that will be safe enough, won’t it?” she inquired.
“Of course,” he said smoothly. “I went there myself earlier in the week. There is not much to be seen, but a change of scenery — at least, one so close by — should not be a problem at all.”
To amuse her, and because he thought he might enjoy the novelty as well, he found an older but well-maintained motorcycle in an outbuilding of one of the houses. The battery was long dead, but a djinn could always supply the necessary charge. The Harley-Davidson roared to life while Jillian looked on with wide eyes.
“Do you actually know how to ride one of those things?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, which was no more than the truth. A djinn could do many things to amuse himself when visiting this world — dining in fine restaurants, going to the symphony. Or driving fast cars or riding motorcycles. It all depended on how one wished to divert oneself. It had been some time since he had done so, but he knew he had not forgotten.
A djinn never forgot.
“Okay,” she said, although her expression was still somewhat dubious. “But you might want to rethink your wardrobe. I don’t think flowy robes are the best choice when it comes to tooling around on a Harley.”
“You are right, of course.” A flick of his fingers, and his silken robes and blousy pants had been replaced by jeans, a T-shirt, and a leather jacket. Heavy boots completed the ensemble. Even as Jillian’s eyes widened in surprise, he snapped his fingers again. This time, it was her clothing that changed, the skirt and tank top and sandals morphing into a slightly more feminine version of what he himself wore.
“Wow, that’s handy,” she said. “If you could change my clothes so easily, why didn’t you do so before, instead of having me pick through the boutiques or wear stuff that was two sizes too big?”
“You didn’t ask,” he replied with a grin. Noting her pained expression, he went on, “Also, at the time, we did not know one another well. It would have felt like taking a liberty. Now, though” — he shrugged — “it is the easiest way to outfit you for whatever endeavor you might wish to undertake.”
“I suppose I can see that.” Her eyes took on a certain glint. “Anyway, while I like your djinn clothes, I have to say that you’re looking pretty damn fine in that leather jacket.”
Her open admiration pleased him. He had always found human clothes to be rather blocky and unflattering, but if Jillian preferred them, he thought he could do with wearing jeans a few times a week. The jacket was another matter. Necessary for the ride, since even a djinn could be injured by a fall from a motorcycle, although the healing process would be supernaturally fast. But he had to admit that, with the bright September sun beaming down overhead, the thick leather was rather hot.
If Jillian was similarly uncomfortable, she made no mention of it. She climbed somewhat awkwardly onto the seat behind him without saying anything at all. Perhaps she had never ridden on a motorcycle before. From what she had said about her late husband, he did not exactly sound like the sort of person to own or ride one.
As Aldair adjusted the throttle and shifted into gear, she let out an excited little gasp. They could not go very fast here in town, not with this part of Highway 14 still choked with abandoned vehicles. However, it did not take so very long to weave in and out of the clumps of cars and SUVs, and in a few minutes, they were headed down the road at speeds high enough that he could feel Jillian’s arms tightening further around his waist, her cheek pressed to his shoulder as they followed the curves of the highway to the turnoff for Cerrillos.
The last time he had come here, he had flown in djinn fashion, but the trip did not take so very long on two wheels, either. In just a few minutes they were slowly moving down the tiny hamlet’s one paved road, past old adobe houses with walls two feet thick. Aldair saw a likely spot to park the Harley-Davidson under a pair of spreading cottonwood trees, and so he came to a stop there so Jillian could climb off and take a look around.
Which she did, eyes wide. “It feels so old,” she said at last. “I mean, I know Madrid is old, but this feels even older.”
“I believe it is, or parts of it, any rate. Turquoise was mined here long before they started taking coal out of the hillsides above Madrid.” Jillian shot him a surprised look at that comment, and he added, “I have been reading some of the books from the gift shops, the ones on local history. At any
rate, it makes sense that so many of the structures here in Cerrillos would be older.”
She nodded, unzipping her jacket so she could drape it across the motorcycle’s seat. Clearly, she thought it too heavy for the day as well. Her warm brown hair spilled over the tight-fitting T-shirt she wore, glinting with hints of gold in the bright sunlight. Aldair reflected then that perhaps there was something to human clothes, for those jeans did do a rather spectacular job of showing off the luscious curves of her hips and waist and rear end.
Perhaps he had been staring, for in the next moment she turned back to him, a smile playing on her lips. “Aldair, were you just looking at my butt?”
“If I was?”
She lifted her shoulders and let out a chuckle. “I guess I’d say that turnabout was fair play, since I was doing the same thing to you back in Madrid.”
All he could do then was go over to her and give her a long, slow kiss, one that wakened the fire in his veins — and hers, too, judging by the flush that tinged her high cheekbones. Admittedly, Cerrillos was not the sort of place where he could imagine indulging in any midday romps, but in a way, that was better. Sometimes the long, slow burn was far more enjoyable, even if it meant some discomfort in the meantime.
Jillian pulled away as the kiss ended, then looked around again. “So, what’s the plan?”
“No real plan,” he admitted. “Although I did see a place at the edge of town where a creek flowed through. There are trees, and shade. After the rains last night, the creek should be flowing well.”
“Sounds lovely. Lead on.”
The place he had described was not quite a quarter-mile from where they stood, close enough that they walked there under their own power, rather than blinking over in djinn-fashion. As they passed under the enormous cottonwoods that overhung the creek, Jillian let out a sigh.
“Oh, that is nice. The sun is beautiful today, but it was starting to get a bit warm.”
“And that is why I proposed this spot. Look, over there is a good place to sit down.”
Forbidden (The Djinn Wars Book 6) Page 20