by Judi Fennell
“That’s your argument?” Zane had to remember he was holding children in his hand when he set the plates down on the table so that he didn’t slam them. “She took my memory from me.” And control of his life.
“Technically, she didn’t. She manipulated time, and a piece of your memory got lost in the shuffle—you got it back, didn’t you? And, if you think about it, she added hours to your life by repeating a few things, so you actually came out ahead.”
“I am not going to discuss this with you.”
“Well tough, because I’m going to discuss it with you.” Merlin strutted along the back of the sofa like the Liberace version of a rooster. “I haven’t looked after that girl for almost six hundred years for you to get a bug up your butt about a so-called mistake. She didn’t have to stay here, you know.”
“Yeah, I found that out. After she lied about me being her master.”
“I’m not saying her methods were the best, but her heart was in the right place. I mean, she said those three words that every genie dreads.”
“Yeah, I can see how ‘as you wish’ would cramp her style.”
Merlin fell back onto the cushion with a wing over his eyes. “You seriously need a history lesson.” He lifted a feather and glared at Zane. “Here it is in a nutshell. Genies like being in The Service. It’s an honor. A privilege. Not every genie is Chosen to be. See the big picture?” He hopped to his ridiculous purple feet. “Let’s put this in your terms. Say, you’re playing in the World Cup—”
“Super Bowl.”
Merlin rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Biggest game of your career, right? Not only do you want to win, but you want to be the superstar. We on the same page here, big guy?”
“Go on.”
“Why, thank you. I think I will.” Merlin ruffled his zebra-striped breast. “To Vana, that’s what Peter’s wish is like. It’s her Olympic Games. She pulls it off, it’ll be like hitting it out of the park. She’ll finally earn the respect no one’s given her. You haven’t seen her parents. Those two make Sophocles and Aristotle look like toddlers. And then there’s her sister… Talk about a superstar. And then comes Vana. Struggling along to live up to the family name.”
Zane didn’t want to hear this about her. Didn’t want to know it because it didn’t matter when it came to his life. His choices. The ones she took.
“So you come along,” continued the bird. “Big, strapping, nice guy, you. Not hard on the eyes, and well, the girl’s been in that bottle for over a hundred years. Think what you’d be like in her situation. So, you turn on the charm and she falls. Hard. But she knows she can’t because if she does, it’s a slippery slope to losing the chance for redemption in the eyes of her family and the djinn world. That’s the big deal. Are you following me?”
He really didn’t want to know this about her. He’d heard “I love you” so often from so many women that he’d stopped believing them long ago. Actions spoke louder than words, and her actions…
He’d actually liked her. Admired the earnestness she’d put into every task. The unflinching optimism that had kept her trying. She’d made mistakes, owned them, and had tried to learn from them.
But she’d also used him. She could couch it in whatever terms she wanted, but by taking his memory, she’d made his decisions for him.
The familiar anger simmered, and in a move opposing teams had used on him too many times to count, including the one that had torn his ACL, Zane rushed Henry. He caught the armoire by surprise and shoved him two feet toward the foyer. An armoire was not going to stand in his way.
“What’s the matter, Zane?” sneered Merlin. “Are you so used to fawning fans and an adoring public that you don’t care what Vana gave up for you?”
“You, bird, are out of line.” Anger gave him the strength to move Henry another foot.
“No, you are. You condemned her without knowing the facts, and you have no idea what’s happened to her since. Do you even care?” Merlin landed on top of Henry. “That woman, that sweet, giving, hurting woman did something so utterly selfless and loving that you should be prostrating yourself before her, begging her forgiveness for the callow way you spoke to her. She didn’t just disappear. Not of her own volition. She was yanked off this plane to face The Fates. You know them, right? Old crones from Greek history?’
“Mythology, you mean.”
“Yeah, as mythological as I am. Good argument.” Merlin clacked his beak and his feathers turned black. With orange bands around his legs. “Vana was summoned to face their wrath for meddling in time—”
“Good. She ought to be held accountable for her actions.”
“But mostly for telling you she loved you. They’re up on their mountain trying to placate The Power That Is and fix this because genies don’t say those words. To any mortal. Ever.”
“Sure they do, Merlin. You just don’t know about it because they’re too busy rewinding time.”
“Geez. Who would have thought you were this cynical? This jaded?”
“Life does that to you. And lying genies.” Zane shoved Henry another ten inches. But then the armoire opened his door against the trim around the arch into the foyer and something rolled out.
Instinctively, Zane caught it.
Vana’s bottle.
The memories of that night, that first night, came rushing back to him. He knew what the inside of her bottle looked like. Remembered the snow and the non-windows. The rose petals and the candles. Her bed. What they’d done. How she’d looked at him. How she’d touched him—inside and out.
He’d thought he’d seen something in her even then. A kindred spirit, maybe. Something good and wholesome and right. A connection.
That’s why he’d taken her to bed that night. Not because he was a young first-round draft pick with women throwing themselves at him for the first time. Ten years ago? Hell, yeah. But he’d matured beyond that and had seen something in Vana—thought he’d seen something in her—and had responded to it. To her.
Only to find out that he’d been wrong.
Zane sagged against Henry. “Fine, Merlin. Say what you want to say, then get out. I’m at my limit for magic these days.”
Merlin flew onto the back of the sofa, brushed a feather over his cockscomb, and started pacing. “Here’s the lowdown, Mr. Lowdown. When Vana said she loved you, it wasn’t to put anything over on you. There was no ulterior motive. Matter of fact, it was because she didn’t want to say those words that she manipulated time in the first place.”
“Yet she ended up doing exactly what you say she didn’t want to do.”
“Arrrrggggh!” Merlin squawked. “Will you listen to yourself? You’re so blinded by that chip on your shoulder that you can’t see what was right in front of your face. Genies can’t tell mortals they love them or they are no longer genies. Get it? They lose their magic and their immortality. Can you think of one person who would willingly give those two things up? She gave up life everlasting, her family, and her magic by giving you the gift of her love. And you threw it back in her face.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No, I expect you to sprout figs from your ears.” Merlin stomped his foot and a spark shot out. “Of course I expect you to. It’s the truth.” He stomped his other foot and another spark shot out, flaring to life on top of his talon. “That’s why Vana rewound your night together. You’d gotten too close. You’d touched her soul.” The flames mingled at the bird’s knees. “Among other parts of her, I’m sure, but hanky-panky doesn’t make a genie fall in love with you. It shouldn’t make anyone fall in love with anyone because love transcends the physical.”
The flames climbed up Merlin’s belly. “The Fates will undo her saying it—they hate to have their collective Will thwarted—and she’ll never be able to say it again, but she felt something for you that she’s never felt before. I’ve known her for close to six hundred years and never have I seen her even be tempted by anyone else to say those words, mortal or genie.” Now
his wings were getting singed. “For her to go to such lengths for you, you ought to be feeling honored instead of pissed off.”
The fire licked at Merlin’s chin, but the bird went on as if nothing were happening. “When she said she loved you, she was sealing her own coffin, and unless you accept that,” the cockscomb caught fire, “you’re going to miss out on the best thing that could have ever happened to you.”
The fire claimed Merlin with a whoosh, leaving behind a cinder image of him on the edge of the sofa that collapsed into a pile of dust that burst into nothingness.
Zane stared at the spot where Merlin had been so magnificent in his anger… his righteous anger?
What if what the bird said was true? Had he misjudged her? Or was Merlin playing mind games with him, too?
Zane looked at her bottle. It didn’t matter if he’d misjudged her. She was gone. Back to her life, and he’d go back to his. He had options now; the future was looking brighter. He’d go back to Philly, pick up the threads of his life, make a decision about his future, and forget the four craziest days of his life had ever happened.
Except… that didn’t look like it was going to happen because, somehow, he ended up inside Vana’s bottle.
Again.
40
“Holy smokes!”
Zane stared at the woman holding a scimitar to his heart.
Hadn’t they done this before?”
“Zane?” Vana tossed the sword away and fell to her knees beside him. “I didn’t know who it was—” She pulled her hands from his arm and sat back. “What are you doing here? How did you get here?”
“I have no idea, Vana. For the second time in my life I have no idea how or why I’m here.” He got to his feet and helped her up. “The question is, why are you?”
“I live here.”
“Ten seconds ago you didn’t. Your bottle was empty.” He looked around. It certainly wasn’t empty now.
He was in her bedroom. The one from the first night they’d made love.
This must be the karmic retribution for wanting to wring the phoenix’s neck.
“Ten seconds ago I wasn’t here.” She licked her lips, and while Zane found that particular nervous habit of hers distracting, it was also very telling. Maybe Merlin was right and he had misjudged her.
“Vana—”
“Zane—”
“No, let me.” He had to know. “That last time… that last night… Why did you say the words you’d gone to such lengths not to say?”
She licked her lips once, but then raised her chin. “Because I’d hurt you with lies and you deserved the truth.”
“But at what risk to you?”
She inhaled and walked over to a desk where a large leather-bound book rested. She opened it. “The first rule of the djinn is to do no harm. But I had. And I had to make it right.”
She linked her hands in front of her, but this time, she didn’t fiddle with her fingers. “That night, when I realized what I felt for you, where it could lead, I’d thought only to protect myself. To ensure I’d have my magic so that I could become the genie everyone wants me to be—everyone but me.”
She closed the book and leaned against the desk. “I’m not like the rest of my family, Zane. They’re all master genies, and me… I’m a mess. Words get mixed up or left out, letters disappear or get transposed… my magic is all over the place. I read and read DeeDee’s manual, and still I can’t master it. I thought I’d get it if I only tried harder or read longer or studied more, but it never clicked for me.”
She shoved off from the desk and walked over to one of the non-windows. “After so much intensive study, I should be able to manage at least the simple things besides travel and Invisibility, but something always goes wrong. Remember that falafel incident? I was one letter off. One letter! How hard is that?”
It’d be pretty hard if she were dyslexic.
The thought popped into his head as if by… no, not magic. Learning disabilities had been part of his curriculum for his education degree, and while he wasn’t qualified to make that diagnosis, what she described fit the parameters. He’d have to do some research, but there were techniques that could help her.
She wrapped her arms around herself. “Every Chosen genie can master simple magic the first month of school, but I was still on the primer when everyone else had moved three levels ahead. I felt so stupid. And there I was that night with you, trying to protect something more important to everyone else than it was to me, while denying that you were—are—what’s important to me. And when you remembered it, when I saw how much I’d hurt you, I had to tell you the truth. The magic didn’t matter in the face of what I’d done to you.”
He walked over behind her and covered her hands with his. “I think you’re brilliant, Vana.”
“What?” She turned in his arms and looked up at him with those gray eyes that could change like quicksilver. Warm and inviting when she was happy, brittle when unsure, glinting when wary, and liquid silver when her emotions threatened to get the best of her.
Her emotions were one of the best parts of her. She couldn’t lie about those. Her emotions had always been right there for anyone to see. When she was happy, it shone in her eyes; nervous, she twiddled her fingers; aroused… her eyes darkened with desire. It was all there if he only looked.
But he’d been blinded by his anger and his—yeah, his fear. His fear that it wouldn’t last.
“I do think you’re brilliant, Vana. You taught me, and I was an unwilling pupil. I didn’t want to know my family’s history. I didn’t want to know who Peter was as a human being. I was embarrassed by the stories and just wanted to wipe him from my life. But you wouldn’t let me. You wouldn’t allow me to deny him. You made me listen and learn, and you gave him to me.
“This house, his legacy, and the permanence behind it… I get it, Vana. You were right about football being a substitute for what I really wanted, a substitute that wouldn’t last. I’d been so focused on keeping everything the same that I couldn’t accept the differences, and then you came along, one big difference from anything I’d ever known, and you barged into my life with your magic and your hope and your determination.
“You wouldn’t let me not see the world through your eyes, whether it was on a magic carpet or in your bottle or rummaging through memories in my attic. You’ve given me my family, Vana, and…” He reached for her hand. “And I’d like you to be part of it.”
Vana couldn’t say a word. Being a part of his family had so many possibilities that she couldn’t get her hopes up. She was, after all, the woman who’d slept with him, then made him forget it.
“Merlin explained it, Vana, what saying you loved me cost you. I know you can never say the words to me again, but—”
“No, Zane, that’s not true.”
“You don’t love me?”
“No, not that. It’s not true that I can’t say the words. I do love you, Zane.”
“But what about your magic and your immortality?”
“I don’t have any magic left to lose.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Look where we are.” She swept her hands around the room. “We’re not back in my third-floor bedroom. The Fates didn’t send me back to that first night. We’re in my bottle, and everything that happened has still happened. This isn’t a do-over. Remember when you said that you have one shot at life, that it doesn’t come with do-overs? They gave me the option of traveling back to that night and reweaving our Life Threads so I could not say those words and keep my magic. But I didn’t take them up on it, Zane. I elected to move forward with you. Without my magic.”
He stared at her.
She took a step closer. “I’m not that person that they tried to make me be. I’m not cut out for The Service. Peter knew it. That’s why he never asked anything of me. Remember, he didn’t have a big family. That’s why he went around the globe picking up others who were as alone as he was. Those children? He so badly wanted me to be
able to free them. That’s why he sent me to my bottle that day—he didn’t want any setbacks, and when the bear showed up and the stairs disappeared, well, he wasn’t worried about what other people said. He was worried I’d get discouraged.”
“But you won’t be able to turn the children back without your magic.”
“But DeeDee can and she’s promised to do it.”
“Then how about if they come live with us?”
“With… us?” Vana didn’t know which to react to first. “Children?”
Zane tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “They’re going to need a family, and you and I both want one, right?”
“But how? Your condo isn’t going to hold all of them.”
“This house will.”
“This house… What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I’m turning down the contract offer and the network job.”
“But—”
“Hear me out.” He put his fingers on her lips, and Vana had to restrain herself from kissing them. “I’ve had a surprising number of opportunities open up to me since we were together, and one of them is to teach. Here. At the high school. Coach, too.”
“But is that what you want, Zane?”
“What I want is you, Vana. I want you.” He tilted her face up. “I love you. Your kindness and your generosity. The way you think of others and fight so ferociously for them. I love that about you. I’m not so fond of the time-travel thing, but I guess that’s no longer an issue.”
She shook her head. “I only did it to—”
“I understand why you did it. And I can’t say I blame you. But that’s behind us now. In the past where it should stay and never be revisited. I want a future with you. You said you can’t take me to the future with your magic, but what about without it? Will you be my future, Vana? Will you marry me and let me love you? Will you love me back? Make a home with me? Raise the children—ours, the dishes, maybe even adopt a few? The children need us, Vana. And I need you.” He gathered her hands in his, raised them to his lips, and kissed them. “I love you.”
