by Marie Hall
Jinni reached out to touch the man’s shoulder when a terrible roar quaked behind them and a shot of glowing steel flew through the air, throwing the stranger flat on his back as the metal bounced off his skull and pierced the side of his neck.
He slumped in a heap next to the woman.
Cocking his head, Jinni finally looked down at her.
Ash and soot could not hide the rich caramel color of her flesh. She had a button nose and a small rosebud mouth, black hair curled becomingly around her heart shaped face. Then she opened her eyes and they were warm and molten brown, alive but glittering with pain.
In that moment something strange happened to Jinni. He sucked in a breath as heat zipped down his spine, curled long fingers through his heart and for the first time in years… he felt it beat. One strong, powerful flex of muscle in his dead chest.
“Help me,” she breathed, and then her eyes rolled back into her head.
How had she seen him?
Something a lot like panic clawed through his skull. It made him twitchy and with a violent shudder, he gripped the pendant in his fist. The ghostly echo of one time and one time only flitted through his head.
“Make it so,” he murmured and then winced as the fire engulfed him. Energy poured out of the stone.
It was like sinking in lava, feeling that terrible heat coat your flesh, sear your lungs. He screamed, dropping to his knees as the flesh covered his soul, bones and tendon knitting a patchwork frame throughout.
The plane roared as another flying spray of hot metal sailed through the air, whizzing pass his cheek. He hissed at the violent heat, shuddering at the sweat that coated his naked limbs.
He had to pull her away. Had to save her before it was too late.
Standing on feet that felt foreign and unsure, he dropped to his knee. Gritting his teeth, he tried again. Forcing his brain to remember what having a body felt like.
Somehow he managed to get his uncoordinated limbs to cross the distance to her and latched onto her wrist. There was strength in this body he wore.
With a loud grunt, he pulled her dead weight against his chest. Heart thumping wildly at the feel of her. She was soft, fleshy in all the right places, and it felt wonderful.
Hefting her against him, he walked in a drunken line deep into the woods, away from the exploding plane. She mumbled incoherently when he gently sat her down.
Then he went back for the man.
Danika had told him he was Tristan Black. Jinni hadn’t understood it then.
He grabbed the man’s wrist and had to strain to lift him in a dead man’s hold across his shoulders, his weight significantly more than hers had been.
Other bodies were slowly milling out, but Jinni had to leave them to fend for themselves. The plane was going to blow soon and he needed to reach safety now.
He was just entering the clearing he’d laid her in when the plane finally gave one final shudder and exploded in a nova of orange and blue.
Dropping to his knees, Jinni dumped the man and gathered the woman in his arms. She smelled of smoke and fuel, but she also smelled like lavender and roses. He ran his nose through her hair, breathless with wonder at his ability to hold a woman again. To feel alive in her presence.
She whimpered and gripped his waist, digging her fingers in.
He looked at the man who bled from the wound in his neck. But the bleeding wasn’t normal, it was thick and oozing, and a red so deep it appeared black. But of course he wouldn’t bleed like a normal mortal, the man was a golem.
What had Danika done?
Chapter 3
Doctors hovered around her fragile form. She was pale, her honey skin bleached out, her lips almost blue. Nurses ran through the room, sounds beeped and stirred, it was an obnoxious wail in the background Jinni fought to ignore.
His eyes were solely for her. Who was she?
Black hair, dark as moving shadow, framed her heart shaped face. Long lashes feathered and flexed as her eyes danced behind the lids.
“Code Blue,” someone shouted. “Code Blue.”
More people rushed the room, a swarm of white coats and humans in colorful scrubs.
Jinni cocked his head, reaching out a blue hand and trailed it down her cheek. He felt nothing, no firmness of flesh, no heat off her body. Just the static of energy buzzing along his vaporous body.
“Damn it, we’re not equipped to handle this,” a deep voice growled, “we’re a small clinic. Dana, you’re gonna have to call Anchorage, we’ve got to get the worst ones air lifted out of here, stat.”
He heard the voices, the sounds of panic, but it was white noise in the background. The woman took up his vision, all he saw was her. The soft rising of her breaths as the machine worked her lungs up and down, the unflinching beauty of a woman in sleep.
Jinni hadn’t meant to follow, he’d thought to stay in the woods and await Danika’s return. To show her he was unmoved, unphased by the woman Danika had chosen for him. But as his temporary form had faded, and she’d slipped softly through his hands, a part of him had felt irrevocably tethered. Like she’d taken the last shred of his soul, trapping it within her soft, soft body.
She’d felt so wonderful. Flesh firm, hot, and smooth, and he’d shuddered, having forgotten the sensation hundreds of years ago. The feeling of touching skin to skin, of holding a beautiful woman in the crook of his arms, feeling her breaths roll gently along his flesh. Making him burn with something close to desire.
Jinni had no idea how long he’d waited with her in the woods. Long enough for his body to fade to nothing but a glowing mist again, long enough for the emergency crews to arrive, long enough for him to completely change his mind.
When the E.M.T.’s had grabbed her, pronouncing her in critical condition and strapping her to a rolling gurney, he’d not given it a second thought. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t stay behind. It was that he couldn’t.
Out of curiosity he’d glanced at the second ambulance housing the golem’s body, wondering what the hospital would do when they realized how unhuman he was. The golem would bleed, could heal, and even on occasion … could talk. But the golem couldn’t feel. Because there was no life to it. A golem was a form without a soul. A shell with no emotions. Purely magic, which begged the question, why was it here?
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Ironic that the beeps should be soothing. But they were the sound of her heart, he timed his own to them. Was this his mate? This nameless woman with molten brown eyes?
Beepbeepbeep…
He cocked his head. The beeps seemed to be getting stronger. Was that a good thing?
Jinni glanced back, but none of the nurses seemed phased. They were grabbing packets, ripping them open to reveal long red tubes. Others were rolling in a large silver stand, hooking a clear bag of fluid to it, then twisting the tubes into the bag.
Beepbeepbeep…. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
A nurse finally glanced up, her face grew red as she shoved blond bangs out of her face. “Ah, hell. She’s flat lining. Grab Doc, Marshall. Now!” She zipped around the side of the bed, stepping right into Jinni.
Her energy mingled with his own, making sparks shoot through his form. She shuddered, but didn’t stop. The blonde opened the woman’s eyelids. “Honey, honey, can you hear me?”
Another white coat rushed in. “Paddles,” he cried as he raced to other side of the bed and threw the sheet back, opening the front of the woman’s hospital gown.
Jinni floated away from the bed. He couldn’t watch anymore. Couldn’t see what they did to her. He rushed through body after body, exiting the sterile room and leaning against the white washed halls, staring absentmindedly at the throngs running in and out of not only her room, but several others down the hall.
There were beds in the halls, stacked one on top of the other. Lumpy forms obscured by white sheets, the burnt odor of hair and flesh a macabre reminder of where they’d come from. Most hadn’t survived the crash. And those that did, would probably wish they
hadn’t.
A cold shiver washed over him. Energy from a portal of time, which meant she’d returned.
“She will die,” he said, never turning to gaze at Danika. “Why send me a mate, only to kill her in the next breathe? Cruel, even for you, starflower.”
There was no venom in his words, he hadn’t the strength for it.
Danika flitted in front of him, mournful blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. “She’s not dead yet, Jinni.”
Finally he looked at her. “But she will die. Is that what you’re saying?”
She took a deep breath, dragonfly wings undulating gracefully behind her small fae frame. “Losing Miriam, that was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through.”
Jinni didn’t want to hear about her sadness. Didn’t want to do this, share and confide. He barely knew the woman. She meant nothing to him.
And yet… maybe she did. Because the spot where his heart used to be burned with a gutted sort of flame.
Danika patted his arm, or at least attempted to. Her fingers were cold as they slipped through. He clenched his jaw.
“But I can promise you, if you choose the right way. If you make the right choices, happiness can be yours.”
He scoffed, rolling his eyes and staring at the milling bodies. “I’m tired, fairy. Tired of this half-life, tired of the endless days. Tired of it all.”
The words sounded so cold, spoken without the slightest inflection or trace of sorrow. They just were, a sentiment he’d had years to accept. And yet a siren’s song beckoned him from within the sterile room full of beeps and strange noises. A soft and quiet yearning he could hardly understand, for a woman he didn’t know.
“Don’t you dare say that to me!” She clenched her fist, yelling with fury, but also something almost like pain. When he looked back at her, it was to notice fat tears leaking out the corners of her eyes. “I’ll not lose you too. Miriam was many things, but never a liar. She told me what would happen. I know each and every outcome, each path every choice could make. Make it right, Jinni.”
“Why do you care? I have never liked you, fairy. I never wanted a godmother.”
Danika’s nostrils flared. “Because I will do my job, no matter what. You were given to my care, and I take my job seriously. I hope someday you can accept that, Jinni, but either way… I won’t stop.”
Swiping her hand, she opened a blue portal and without stopping to look back, flew inside. Only then did he realize he’d never asked about the Golem.
“What’s happened to me? Where am I? Can you see me?”
The sound of the dulcet voice drew his attention, made the memory of a pulse stutter through him. Jinni turned and sucked in a breath when he caught sight of the soft blue glow of a woman’s form filling the doorway. Beautiful brown eyes stared back at him with a hopeless gleam.
“Can you see me?” she asked, a thread of hope lacing the softly spoken words.
Jinni nodded his head.
She breathed a huge sigh of relief and ran up to him, throwing her arms around his waist, but quickly fell through. More insubstantial than a ghost, Jinni felt the ripples of her energy wash through him. Pure and clean, and lovely. He stared at her on the ground, wishing he could hold out his hand.
She wrapped her arms around herself, white hospital gown slipping down her pale brown shoulder. “Are you dead?” Then her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with trembling fingers. “Am I dead?”
“My name is Jinni.” It was the only thing he could think to say, desperately wanting her to know his name. Wanting to share a piece of himself, miniscule though it was.
She licked her lips. “My name is Paz.”
He smiled. A traveler had journeyed to his Kingdom long ago, bringing a caravan of servants who’d spoken in foreign tongues. One in particular, a green-eyed beauty, had taught him bits of her language. A lyrical, romantic language called Spanish.
“Peace,” he said, “Paz, means peace.”
She smiled and something painful twisted in his chest. “Yes, Paz means peace.”
Chapter 4
Paz stood by the foot of the bed, wondering when that strange man would return. After their introduction, he’d smiled and then vanished. A cold chill swept her, tugged at something deep in her soul, made her yearn for more.
Restless, she started to pace. Transfixed by the sight of her unmoving body lying in that cold, hard bed. She hated hospitals. Always had. Ever since the day she and Richard had walked out of the emergency room of Chicago medical center, doors swooshing shut behind them with the stark reality that their parents wouldn’t leave there alive.
It’d been cold, sleeting, and miserable. Paz had an art exhibition on the campus. She’d pleaded with her parents to stay home, that it was okay, she really wouldn’t feel bad if they didn’t show up.
But they’d known she’d lied. She never could keep the truth from creeping into her voice--the wistful ache to have her parents share in her first “real” show. They’d gotten into the car, and from what the police records had said … it’d been quick and painless. They’d never seen it coming.
She’d always held fast to that belief. That knowledge that they hadn’t known their lives were over.
And yet… maybe they had, because she was still here.
The walls of this sterile room were white, tubes ran the length of her body, a whir and beeping sound (she knew) were the only things still keeping her alive.
Or at least the shell of her. Because somehow, she was still here. The real her. The soul her. She glanced at her arms. They weren’t as pale a blue as the man she’d fallen through yesterday.
Had it been yesterday?
She frowned as her thoughts turned fuzzy. Time ran so differently here. A perpetual wheel of motion that she could trace, but never follow.
Sighing, she dropped her arms. She couldn’t leave the hospital. She’d already tried. Dozens of times, she’d walk down to the end of the corridor, but then some inexplicable urge to run back consumed her. Overwhelmed her, made her ache with a need to vomit or scream. The second she’d turn around, she’d feel better.
Where was that blue man?
Jinni? Was that his name?
She rubbed her cold forehead. How long would she have to stay here? Stuck in limbo?
In her twenty-seven years she’d gone to mass only a handful of times, but she’d always scoffed at the notion of a purgatory. A place where sinners went to work off their sins before they were clean enough to enter through the pearly gates.
Was this her punishment?
Floating toward the edge of the bed, she concentrated all her energy on lifting the hem of the white sheet tucked around her, (no, the body lying there wasn’t her. It was just a body and she couldn’t think of it as her anymore) the body’s feet.
A rush of fiery energy-- like the sensation of a numb limb suddenly burning as it filled with blood-- gathered in her fingertips. Clenching her teeth, sweating profusely, she willed the sheet higher and higher, with a final flicker of energy she untucked it and tossed it aside. Gasping hard for breath, feeling as though she’d just run a marathon.
It was getting harder. Yesterday she’d been able to do it easier.
Had it been yesterday?
Why couldn’t she remember anymore?
She bit her lip as the ugly truth of the body was exposed. Blood soaked bandages covered a leg so swollen it looked three times the size it’d been before. The toes were a deep crimson, the toenails gone.
The purple and silver rhinestone studded pedicure that’d cost her a small fortune, forever lost somewhere in the deep woods.
A bad smell emanated from the leg. Every time the nurses came in they couldn’t hide their grimace, or the worry scrawled across thin eyebrows.
With a shudder, Paz turned her gaze aside, but the sight of the body’s face was even worse. Clear tubes ran up the nose, a red snake looking thing was in the mouth, and the eyes were puffy. The skin that’d once been a healthy bronze was now
a waxy yellow.
She swallowed hard and looked up when chatter disturbed her macabre thoughts.
The nurse, wearing a colorful smock and pants, stopped in the door with a swift frown. She flipped through the file and then shrugged. Swiftly she walked to the side of the bed, peered at the monitor behind the body, and then tsked.
“Well, Paz, good morning to you.”
Morning?
Paz looked over her shoulder at the window. A faint pink cloud crept along the horizon. When had it turned night?
“And how are you this fine morning?”
“Fine,” she said, wishing like hell the nurse would look her (not the body, but her) in the eye.
The nurse smiled, never glancing up as she patted the body’s cheek. “You know, doc says you’re in a coma.”
Really?
Paz nibbled her lip. Weren’t comas bad?
“But I don’t think,” the nurse smiled again, “you are. Because you see, for the past two mornings, you’ve kicked your sheets off, and I know comatose patients can’t do that.”
The young blonde nurse fiddled with a clear bag of fluid.
“And if you can hear me in there,” she peered straight at the body’s face with thinned lips, “you wake up, sweetie. We’re all pulling for ya.” With a nod she turned on her heels and made for the exit.
Paz’s heart sank. “But I’m right here. I do hear you.”
She trailed the nurse, trying to tap her, hoping in some way to make a connection to another soul.
“Oh, before I forget,” the nurse clapped the door frame, “we’ve found your brother. Says he’s headed here tomorrow! Exciting, huh?”
Then she was gone and her smell of vanilla went with her.
Suddenly cold, depressed, Paz hugged her middle.
“Where are you, Jinni?”
She didn’t know him. But he’d seen her. She’d seen him.
“I need you.” A solitary tear tracked like a cool pinprick of ice down her cheek.
A loud beeping sound blared through the busy corridor. Suddenly an explosion of bodies ran toward a room two doors down from hers. Curious, Paz glided to the doorway, shivering each time a body walked through her.