by Ash Krafton
In the next moment, she found herself standing once more in her plain old bare bedroom, fully dressed and completely alone. The colored veils, the scented heat, the dancing flames of the lanterns—all gone.
Empty. Alone.
She sobbed, the sudden sound echoing once against the sparse walls, a hollow noise. With both hands she covered her mouth, two orphaned tears sliding over her fingertips.
Completely, inconsolably alone.
Chapter 24
Burns sat, cross-legged and still as stone, in the center of a naked room. Walls, floor, nothing more. Not even true color—every surface was dull and dreary as clay bricks baked under an unforgiving sun.
Gone was the palace. Gone were the colors and the luxuries, the shiny baubles and the trappings of a life he used to lead. Gone was the illusion that he was a free being, a master of his own destiny.
A thief is a king until he’s caught. And the cuffs on his wrists were proof that he’d been caught at long, long last.
Gone was hope and comfort. The walls of his souls were as barren as the halls of this dwelling. No sound, not even heartbeat, nor breath. Those were the sounds of life.
And he no longer had one.
His eyes, heavy lidded and half-open, saw nothing of his surroundings but inside—oh, the torrent of images. The floods of memories. The remembrance of every day, every new land, every false lead. And the hope, when he’d felt the talisman, its power and lure so bright and clear, right before him—
The metal cuffs on his wrists burned, a constant reminder. He’d thought he’d forgotten what that searing pain felt like. He hadn’t felt it since Solomon died.
He laughed, a sardonic snort, and raised his head, tilting his head back as if gravity were enough to keep the tears from forming.
So. Millennia of existence, simply to end up in the bonds of slavery, despite everything he’d done. Futile. Everything had been futile.
But the cuffs, their bite into his wrists, their constant unrelenting squeeze—that wasn’t what wounded him the most.
Her betrayal.
He’d never had guessed she was capable of it. The way she’d clung to him, tremulous and timid, the way she’d reciprocated his nudging caresses until she unfurled herself for him, opening up and drawing him in. Such innocence, such discovery. He’d never suspected it had all been an elaborate ruse.
He took a deep breath, trying to fill his chest with something other than the scream that wanted to tear out of his throat. He knew his place. She’d shown him.
He exhaled, slipping free of his human guise like a serpent shedding its skin, revealing the fiery-blue coil of his self. He let the flames take him closer to his true form than he’d been in a thousand years. They singed away the pretentions of humanity and physicality and everything else he had endured for the sake of roaming the world, seeking his ring and his freedom.
She’d shown him. And now…she’d see exactly what a djinn was capable of doing.
He winced at the thought. That wouldn’t be good.
For either of them.
Chapter 25
Another restless night. Only a few purloined hours of sleep, more for necessity than for rest. She awoke a few hours later, feeling even wearier than she had before she had forced herself to sleep. Shoving her legs out of bed, she plodded into the kitchen to make coffee.
If only she could talk to him.
She could, technically. She could command him to appear. But that would be the worst thing she could ever do to him. To treat him like a servant.
No. She’d have to wait until he wanted to see her. She’d never use magic against him.
She trudged to work, dreading the moment she’d push open the door to a place that no longer felt hers. That fern. Absolutely pathetic. Why did she even keep it around?
Her nine o’clock hour was torturous. She sat in her office, hands folded, staring at his empty chair. The coffee eventually turned cold, the mug untouched.
That was when her future came to a crashing halt—sitting in her office, staring at an empty chair, wondering when she’d see him again, knowing she’d do anything just to hear his voice.
The therapist. Pining for a client. Knowing she would not, could not walk away from him, even though she knew she must, if she wanted to keep a drop of integrity in herself or her practice.
She looked around the room, at the framed certificates on the wall, the leased furniture, the view outside the window that she prized and looked forward to every day. Tam had endured a bidding war to get the lease for this office and she never regretted it. The view alone had been reward enough.
This office, this view, these case files and folders and records of every patient she’d ever seen here—she let her eyes linger on each of those for a measured moment and knew that she had traded all of them away for a chance to be with one man.
It was done. That line she’d never even worried about crossing…it was so far behind her now, she had absolutely no hope of going back.
Couldn’t she have it all? Just this once, couldn’t she do the wrong thing, just because she didn’t have to choose?
But she did choose. The moment she rapped on his magical door, she chose.
She’d known of other therapists who had pursued their clients, and she knew how deep her disdain for them ran. It was more than ethics or guidelines. It was a taint that would touch every single client those therapists ever contacted. Even if she were able to put him on hold for a few years, she’d never put enough distance between the act and the rest of her practice.
It didn’t matter that he never considered himself a client. In the beginning, she had. Like Dolly said. The minute he walked through that door, he was a client.
Dammit.
Her heart heavy, she reached for the phone and dialed Dolly’s number. She’d chosen to be with him and that was an implicit decision to leave her practice behind.
And he wouldn’t even talk to her. Talk about losing it all.
Elder Mother said there would be pain. If this wasn’t painful, she didn’t know what was.
Dolly hadn’t sounded surprised when Tam called to tell her she was talking a sabbatical.
“I’ll be there in an hour,” Dolly had said. “Don’t do anything you might regret later.”
As if there were anything else she could do.
When Dolly arrived, the first thing she did was pull Tam out of her chair and wrap her arms around her in a tight hug.
“Oh, Tam.” Dolly held her friend and rocked her. “What can I do to help?”
“Coffee,” Tam said, weary from the weight of her dilemma. “I need coffee.”
Dolly gave her a final squeeze before releasing her. “We can both use a little comfort food about now.”
Outside, the sun cast a gentle glow on the damp streets. The weather seemed to be relenting; the morning’s rain had been more of a drizzle and the wind had taken a warmer turn. April in Philadelphia was a time of great transition, with changes that often were downright catastrophic to the last remnants of the winter.
She wanted to take it as a hopeful portent. So much of her life had been lived in a cold, numb winter. These last weeks with Burns felt a lot like April.
She brushed her fingers against the bushes lining the sidewalk, their delicate branches swelling with rosy buds, the hints of leaves to come. The buds were looking forward to the warmth and bright cheer of May.
She needed to remain cautiously optimistic. For her, winter wasn’t over. Not yet.
The sidewalks on Carbonnet Street were busy today. The warm weather seemed to have drawn everyone out, city dwellers and workers alike. As they approached the coffee shop, she peered ahead. The double oak doors, the gleaming tiger knocker, stood ostentatiously atop the marble stoop.
Just as they drew up alongside his door, a sharp pinch in her shoe caused her to stumble.
“Ow!” She steadied herself with a hand on Dolly’s arm. “I’m going to blister, I just know it.”
S
he fussed with her foot, sliding her finger around the curve of her heel. Nothing. Not a stone or a rough edge. She’d swear someone played a trick on her—
Wait a minute. She glowered at the door with its brassy lamp plate. It probably was a trick.
Should she ask Dolly if she could see the doors? How would she even bring it up? Part of her wanted to share Burns’ secret, to prove that she wasn’t as terrible a counselor as she felt. If she could show Dolly the magic door, then Dolly would understand that he was an exception. It would validate their relationship. She wouldn’t have to give everything up, after all.
It would also cause her to go back on her word.
A click and a creak made her glance up. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed as he leaned against the frame. He was watching her with the same scrutiny he’d often used in the past. Watching. Waiting for her to say something.
As if she could.
Thoughts of the night before stole her breath. Seeing him again, remembering his touch, his mouth, her desire…
…his tone. The cuffs on his wrists. The betrayal in his eyes.
Today, he wore long sleeves with cufflinks, shielding his wrists from view. Spared for a moment, at least, but she knew how terrible a rift had been ripped out between them.
She straightened and stamped her foot a few times, gazing back, silently. Dolly was oblivious to the genie standing between the impossible doors. “Weird. Those shoes aren’t new.”
He pushed away from the jamb and sauntered out, tiptoeing one slow step at a time. She watched him over Dolly’s shoulder. Smirking, he lifted a finger to his lips in a caution to be quiet. Then he raised his hands like bear claws, as if he meant to frighten Dolly.
Or attack her. They hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms.
She shook her head. Don’t you dare, she mouthed.
“Hmm?” Dolly cocked her head. She turned and looked straight at him, shaking her head. “What are you looking at?”
Tam stammered, completely at a loss for a reply. Rather, she had a reply. She just couldn’t get it out.
“Shoe good? Ready?” Dolly turned just as Burns hopped off the bottom step, directly into her path. When she raised her hand to gesture toward the coffee shop, she whacked him squarely in the chest.
The impact shocked her and she pranced backwards a few steps, her hand over her heart. Tam almost choked. Dolly frightened easily; she would jump a mile if a door slammed. A shock like the one Burns just gave her could be enough to turn the poor woman’s hair white, if she survived it.
“My dear, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Burns reached out to grasp her arm.
Dolly drew a tremulous breath. “I didn’t see you. So sorry.”
“Well?” Burns stared Tam down with a look of expectation.
For what, she had no clue. “Well, what?”
He smiled wide enough to flash his canines, sharp points that gave him the grin of a predator. “Will you introduce me to your companion, so I may properly apologize?”
Her eyes widened, and she quivered her head. She’d seen him apologize. She didn’t think Dolly was ready for a trip to the beach.
“You know him?” Dolly eyed her, wearing the slightest hint of a cat’s grin.
“Um, of course.” She shook herself, playing along. “Of course. This is—”
Her tongue tripped over his name. She couldn’t get the word out. Not even the first letter.
He smiled wider, clearly enjoying himself as he watched Tam struggle with the spell that prevented her from saying his name.
“A friend?” Dolly prompted.
“Exactly,” he supplied. “Burns, pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms.—” He trailed off, prompting a reply.
“Rivera,” she said. “You know each other, how?”
“From around,” came his vague reply. At least he didn’t accuse her of being his scheming and manipulative master. “Coffee break, Tamarinda?”
That, she could answer. “You know it. I need a hard reset this morning.”
“Tough night, hmm? You should have summoned me.” He slipped his fingers around hers and drew her hand to his lips, a polite kiss on her knuckles that masked the firmness of his grip. “I would have been happy to assist.”
“I’m sure you would.” She tugged her fingers free, a trace of unease setting in the base of her throat. It had blossomed at the sound of the word summoned. “But Dolly and I need to talk shop. Alone.”
“Ah, yes,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching. “The never-ending trials and tribulations of the emotionally imbalanced. I’m sure this will be a long discussion.”
“Exactly,” Tam said. “Which is why you were just leaving.”
He bowed, a grand sweep of a hand and a lopsided grip. “As you desire.”
Well. He didn’t seem ready to devour her friend or set a car on fire. Maybe he wouldn’t make a scene, after all. She relaxed a bit. Hand on her hip, she ventured a playful scowl. “Don’t you mean as you wish?”
“No.” His gaze intensified, excluding Dolly and the passersby and the world around them. “I do this because you ask.”
The solidity of his gaze made her pulse thump in her throat.
He dropped a wink, breaking the spell, before giving Dolly a polite nod. A last look at Tam, one that made her legs rubbery, and he strode away, disappearing around the corner.
She laughed, staring in the direction in which he’d gone. “He loves me.”
And regretted it the moment it slipped out. She closed her eyes and blew out a breath, searching for the fortitude to face her partner.
She could only imagine the look on Dolly’s face. What a disappointment she must be to her right now. Never before had she ever done anything she was ashamed of.
And, although she was not ashamed of her involvement with him, she was regretful that it meant she had to betray herself and her career to do it. Those were the sins Dolly would never forgive.
Chewing her lip, she turned to Dolly, expecting the worst.
What she saw wasn’t anger or reproach. It was…astonishment.
“That was him.” Dolly wagged a finger toward the direction he’d gone. “That was the guy.”
Tam crossed her arms, tucking her elbows tightly to her ribs. “How did you guess?”
All Dolly did was laugh. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
“I know.” She hung her head. “But I can’t—”
Dolly waved her fingers, stopping her with an upturned palm. “You love him.”
Cars streamed past them, pulses of sound. The city. It teemed with every possible emotion. Especially love.
The City of Brotherly Love. The city had been aptly named. And although she’d had lived her entire life here in this city, surrounded by love, she’d never actually been touched by it.
Not until a genie walked into her life.
Tam nodded. “I know.”
Dolly shook her head, lips parted in wonder. “You weren’t like this…with him.”
Tam scoffed and looked away. She didn’t need to ask who he was. “I wasn’t like this with anyone.”
“True, but…Six years, Tam. You were with him for six years. You never said—you never said to me that—”
Dolly’s complete lack of composure made Tam laugh. “Spit it out, Doll.”
“Fine,” Dolly said. “I never heard you say the L word.”
“Loser?” she said. “I think I said that. I didn’t mean it—”
“Love!” Dolly’s hands lifted with the exclamation. “Six years and I never heard you say the word love.”
“Can’t say it was love. It was…” Tam frowned. “Domestic.”
“Domestic? He was crazy for you. And I’ll never forget how you asked him to just pack up and leave. Honestly? I thought it was a little cold-hearted.”
“Wow,” Tam said. “All this time and it’s only coming out now? Cold-hearted?”
“I wouldn’t say that now. I know you too well. Or,
at least I thought I did because you are finally acting with Burns the way you should have been acting with Paul.”
“And that’s how, exactly?”
“In love. You should have gotten a dreamy smile whenever you said his name. You should have made lame excuses to not go out with the rest of us so you could stay home and knock boots. You should have been hoarding bridal magazines and picking out china patterns and, at the very least, you should have cried when you found out he cheated.”
“Dolly.” Tam took a deep breath and reset herself, trying to find the right word. “It was different then. No, I didn’t cry. Not for Paul, not for anyone. When I found out what he—” She shook her head, just a little. Pursed her lips. “I felt like he broke a promise. Maybe I didn’t cry, but it was wrong of him. Maybe I didn’t say the L word. But I did say a different word. Trust. He knew he could trust me. But I couldn’t trust him anymore. One of us had to go. And it wasn’t me.”
Dolly switched her purse to her other shoulder and resumed her walk to the coffee shop. “But you kept the apartment.”
“Sure, I did.” Tam grinned. “It’s a nice apartment. And I wasn’t the one who breached our contract.”
“Listen to you. Breach of contract. He cheated.”
“Same thing.”
“Really?” Dolly paused at the door without opening it. “And if Burns betrayed you?”
“I—” Tam blinked. What if he did? He was a genie, a preternatural being. Not human. She couldn’t even begin to guess his motives, his real desires. What made her think he wouldn’t betray her?
Here was the scariest truth. She didn’t know if she could trust him. His faith in her was cemented and sure, thanks to the spell that kept her from breaking her word. That spell was the ultimate insurance policy.
But she had no such assurance from him. He could turn on her at will. He could betray her and there was nothing she could do about it, except hurt.
It took several attempts before the words came out. “I’d be destroyed.”
She looked up at Dolly, her eyes like a bewildered child, round and lost. “I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
Dolly’s mouth set in a tight line, all the color chased from her lips. She reached for the door, pulling it open. “I think you were better off with Paul. At least, back then, I didn’t worry about you getting hurt.”
