One Wish Away: Djinn Empire Complete Series

by Ingrid Seymour

  His enthusiasm made me laugh out loud, and the sound reminded me it had been too long since I’d felt light enough for that.

  Zet grabbed a strawberry from a bowl full of fruit and popped it in his mouth. “You’re making me quite jealous, Marielle.” He turned to Faris. “How can you stand it? Abby told me you haven’t used magic for a couple of weeks.”

  “I have the best reason in the world.” Faris looked at me. The heat of a blush crept into my cheeks.

  Samuel stepped toward the island and started filling a plate from the stack of fine china I’d provided. “First useful thing y’all have done,” he said.

  “So I see they’ve made a believer out of you, huh?” Abby said in a grumpy tone. “I bet you don’t realize Marielle had to die so you could stuff your face full of bacon, do you?”

  Samuel stopped preparing his plate and gave Abby a “did you have to spoil it?” look.

  “Abby,” I said, “it’s okay. I’m okay. Please, everyone, eat something.”

  No one moved. Abby had probably killed their appetite—deader than I had been.

  Ma’ Gee pushed up from the rocking chair and walked toward the food. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

  She stacked a plate with hot cakes, fruit and eggs, then poured herself a cup of coffee. She took a place at the table and began to eat. Maven did the same, and everyone followed, even Abby, when she realized I’d conjured her favorite breakfast: cheese grits with biscuits.

  As everyone ate, I nibbled on a flaky croissant. I wasn’t in the least hungry, even though I hadn’t eaten for hours. The croissant tasted delicious, though, and I found I could greatly enjoy it in spite of my lack of appetite. Then I remembered I didn’t really need food to survive and wondered if I even had the capacity to feel hungry anymore. Maybe I did. My heart still beat. My lungs still pumped. Everything worked just as it was supposed to, a reflex of my subconscious. I could stop it all and go on like some sort of undead creature for the rest of time. But it was harder than just letting it be.

  I felt a measure of happiness watching everyone eat as we explained what had happened. They listened in rapt attention, putting their forks down and gulping their drinks when the story got too difficult.

  In spite of everything, it was the best time I’d had in while. I dare say it might have even been perfect, if Dad could have been with us.

  44

  Marielle

  After eating, Abby and I sat in the middle of the grand staircase, enjoying a cookies-and-cream waffle cone I’d conjured for her. Now that it was warm inside the house, she had changed from her warm clothes into a pair of cut-offs and a tank top. She had also kicked off her boots and chosen to walk around barefoot.

  “It seems wrong to eat this.” She took a large bite from the side of her cone.

  “Not from this angle,” I joked.

  “Did it hurt?” she asked without making eye contact.

  “I don’t want to think about it, Abby?”

  “Sorry. That was a stupid question. Of course it hurt. I wish it could have been different.”

  “It is what it is.”

  Abby ran her tongue up the side of the cone, catching a rogue streak of ice cream. “I hate to think what would’ve happened if Zet hadn’t had a change of heart. He cut his own veins, you know?”

  “What?”

  During dinner, they’d shared with Faris and me how Zet had convinced Ma’ Gee to turn him into a Djinn once more, but they hadn’t gone into the details, and we hadn’t asked.

  “He didn’t even know if Ma’ Gee was strong enough to do it. It was nerve-racking since she barely managed it. I thought I was going to faint when I saw all that blood.”

  My stomach flipped. Images of Dad’s blood—of my own blood—spilling into the stone basin flashed before my eyes. I swallowed hard.

  “Oh, crap! I’m such an idiot. I’m sorry, Elle.”

  “It’s okay.” I took a deep breath and stared at the chipped nail polish on Abby’s toenails. “Zet didn’t tell us anything, and I guess I never stopped to wonder how it happened.”

  We sat in silence for a minute.

  “I guess since he did it willingly, he won’t be capable of hurting anyone,” Abby reflected. “That’s a good thing. Just in case he . . .” She cocked her head to one side and made a face.

  “Has a change of heart?” I suggested.

  “I mean, he did try to kill you. Repeatedly.”

  “That, he did. But this time, if it wasn’t for him, I would be dead.”

  “Well, better safe than sorry.”

  “I guess.”

  Abby finished her cone and dusted crumbs off her lap. “Do you . . . feel very different?”

  “Yeah, I do.” My voice betrayed the distress I felt.

  “Not in a good way then?”

  “Nope. It’s helped me see Faris in a whole new light.”

  Abby sighed. “I guess that solves my dilemma. I’m too chicken to go through with it anyway.”

  I pulled back and gave her a wide berth. “What are you talking about?”

  “Hey, we all talked about it, so, if you’re going to be mad, be mad at everyone.”

  All I could do was shake my head in disbelief.

  “We want to be of use. We all feel pretty useless cooped up in this old house.”

  “Better useless than dead,” I said.

  “Honestly, Marielle, you should be the last one to talk. You flew to Akeelah’s lap without telling anyone. We were worried sick.”

  I opened my mouth, but what could I say? I closed it again.

  Abby lifted her gaze from her lap and looked at me. Tears trembled in her eyes. “That wasn’t very nice of you, by the way.”

  “I’m . . . I’m sorry. You’re right.”

  “I mean, I know you were in pain. You thought you’d lost Faris, and that monster has your dad, but what about us? We love you too, you know?” She swatted at a tear with the back of her hand.

  My throat ached with a sharp pain as I struggled to keep my own tears back. “I wasn’t seeing things straight.”

  “You think?”

  Turning to face me, Abby pulled me into a tight embrace. “I would have missed the hell out of you.”

  I hugged her back and squeezed her hard. That was all I could do, because any words I might have been able to muster were drowning in unshed tears.

  After a moment, Abby pulled away and jabbed my shoulder with a stiff index finger. “And don’t think you’re done paying for it. I have a huge list of things you gotta get for me, Mrs. I Dream of Jeannie.”

  “Do you, now?”

  “Yeah, starting with . . .” She flicked her head in Maven’s direction who had just come out into the foyer looking for us.

  “We’re ready when you are,” he said from the bottom of the stairs. We’d all agreed to meet in the kitchen in an hour to revise our plan against Akeelah. We had the element of surprise now. Big time. We needed a foolproof strategy to take advantage of that.

  Abby and I shared a secret smile and walked down the stairs where we met Maven.

  He frowned suspiciously at us.

  “Your turn to bitch at her,” Abby said, then disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

  I stared at my shoes. “Just give it to me. I won’t argue.”

  Maven shook his head, making a strand of blond hair fall on his forehead. “I think I understand what you did better than Abby does. Or maybe she’s just a bit more selfish. She really loves you and couldn’t imagine life without her best friend.”

  Smiling sadly, I shook my head.

  “For my part, I can totally understand doing everything in your power to save someone you love.” He lifted his eyebrows. “Even if it’s stupid.”

  “Thanks. I feel much better after that.”

  Maven chuckled. “Just don’t do it again.”

  “Hopefully, I won’t have to but can’t make any promises.”

  We exchanged a sobering glance, both ve
ry much aware that, in times like this, promises were a luxury, and everyone had to do whatever their heart dictated, no matter how risky or stupid. I had learned that the hard way.

  I leaned closer and placed my hand on his forearm. We held each other’s gaze, an unspoken understanding passing between us. “Just take care of Abby for me, okay?”

  He nodded.

  “I hope . . .” I stopped as an idea occurred to me. I started again. “I wish you’d realize time is a slippery thing. We never know when ours is going to end.”

  Djinn wishes have no power over anyone’s mind. It’s one of the rules. But Maven didn’t know that, plus something told me all he needed was an excuse to let his pride and guard down. What better way to help him lower his defenses than by making him feel compelled, as if he had no other choice? Everyone needs a free pass sometimes. Maybe this was his.

  I gave him a crooked grin and left him there. Smiling to myself, I headed for the kitchen, ready for what was to come. We couldn’t waste any more time.

  Dad needed help.

  45

  Faris

  All day I’d tried to get an alone moment with Marielle, but we’d been busy. After catching everyone up on the events of the previous night, she’d spent some much-needed time with her friends. It had been good for her, talking to Abby and Maven. It’d put a smile on her face and eased the crease between her eyebrows. Of course, that hadn’t lasted long, not after our session discussing how to destroy Akeelah, now that there was a distinct possibility of actually accomplishing the deed.

  The discussion had been intense, but we finished with a good idea of what we needed to do.

  Now, finally, it was just us. Alone in my barren bedroom with its lonely sleeping bag laying on the floor.

  I closed the door behind me, walked to her and embraced her, convinced that I would never let her go. She wrapped her arms around my neck and collapsed into me.

  Her chest rose and fell against mine as her uneven breaths blew against my neck.

  More than ever before, her essence, pure and fierce, assaulted my senses. She was made of something stern that would not bend, that would not relent. Not until all wrong were set right.

  I’d known she was made of this and more, but now that she was Djinn, I could practically taste who she was and what had made me fall in love with her.

  From her jaw, I kissed my way to her lips. There was no desire in it, just the need to feel closer to her.

  She kissed me back, raked her finger into my hair and tasted me back.

  Abruptly, she pulled away and confounded me by saying, “Forgive me, Faris.”

  “Forgive you? For what?”

  “For being angry at you when you left me behind.”

  I walked to the window and looked at the darkening sky. It was beautiful, the colors like a painting, all blending together, underlying the clouds in pink and purple and a million shades of blue. I pressed a hand to the glass. It was cold. I relished the feeling, thinking how much I wanted the house to become my home. Marielle’s home. Our home. Would that dream ever come true?

  “You had a right to be angry. I broke my promise,” I said.

  “A promise I should have never asked of you. I didn’t know better when I demanded it.”

  My heart broke for her, because she had learned this lesson, because life tore her innocence and taught her that—despite our best intentions, despite our love and loyalty—we can’t always give everything we want to give.

  “I know better now, though,” she added in a trembling voice that nearly undid me.

  I peeled my hand from the window and faced her. Her head was bowed, her long hair draping over her chest. I walked back, hooked a finger under her chin and forced her to lift her eyes to mine.

  “You do,” I said, “but only because you love. Properly. Not halfway, not conditionally, but entirely and truly. And for that, I have nothing to forgive you. I . . .”

  I bit my tongue.

  “How did you make this about me?” she asked with a sad smile. “It was supposed to be about you.”

  “It’s never about me. It’s all you. It will always be you.”

  We kissed again and, this time, desire raced through me like a violent tidal wave. I crushed her to me, tasting everything that she was, running my hands down her sides, careful to be a gentleman and not get carried away by my passion.

  Suddenly, I sensed her magic flare to life, shocking me. I pulled away, but before I could piece together what she’d done, she pushed me down onto a bed, a proper bed that she’d positioned right behind me.

  My heart skipped a beat. I sat there, staring up in shock. My mind raced, trying to embrace and deny her purpose, all at once.

  She laughed then, and it was like a bucket of ice water right at the heart of me.

  “Well, don’t you have a dirty mind, Mr. Nasser?” she said.

  I looked at the bed and its silken linens. “I thought—”

  “You thought wrong,” she said with a smile that was both wicked and innocent. “I understand many things now, including this.”

  She ran a hand down the side of my face in an extremely suggestive way that made my mouth go dry.

  “It doesn’t feel the same,” she continued. “Not even remotely. I want it. Badly. But . . .”

  I almost growled at her words, burning with want deep inside of me.

  She came closer, forced her hips between my legs. “But there should be no distance between us, no . . . borrowed skin. We should be complete when we . . .”

  Her finger brushed my lips, sending a shiver down my spine.

  “There should be no forgery. It should be you and I. Human as we’re meant to be.”

  She kissed me tenderly then and, impossibly, I fell in love a little more. To know that she felt exactly as I did in this matter made me happy beyond belief. We both felt more fulfilled as humans. Anything else was counterfeit.

  I pulled her, laid her down gently by my side. After long moments of looking into each other’s eyes and losing ourselves, we fell asleep. Peace flowed through us, between us, the calming force of knowing what was to come and the determination to face it.

  We had accepted our role in this insane plot and were ready to make Akeelah pay for her ruthlessness.

  There would be no mercy.

  46

  Marielle

  Faris watched me from the bed as he quietly sat on its edge. “Maybe a mirror would help,” he suggested. Even though we didn’t really need sleep, we had drifted away into dreams last night, and it had been good. Now, it was morning. Time to set things in motion.

  “Yes, I think it would.” I imagined a body length, free standing mirror and wished for it. A beautiful piece worthy of a palace appeared in one corner of the room. It had an elaborate silver frame, carved with flowers and butterflies. It showed my reflection. There was nothing physically different about it, but I felt as if I were looking at a stranger.

  “Now imagine someone else. Preferably not human. True Djinn rarely choose a strictly human form. Half-djinn default to their original shapes subconsciously, as we’ve done. It’s effortless, automatic. You’ll have to be careful to keep a facade Akeelah and her slaves won’t recognize.”

  I frowned. Not human. I thought of Akeelah’s hooked nose and jutting chin. She looked like the Wicked Witch of the West, except with ebony skin, not green. I grimaced. I had no intention of looking that hideous.

  An idea occurred to me. “Oh, I know!” I imagined what I wanted to look like and issued my wish. The change rippled from my head down to my toes like a wave, sending a shiver through my body. I shook it off, then examined my new form in the mirror.

  Faris walked behind me and appraised my reflection over my shoulder. “Wow, that’s very good,”

  I marveled at what I saw. I didn’t even look female anymore—or male, for that matter. I had morphed into an androgynous creature that resembled an elf from one of Tolkien’s novels. My hair was blond, almost white. My skin pale and
smooth like the petals of a magnolia flower. My features were sharper, more defined. Even my clothes had changed. I was wearing tights with high, leather boots that felt as soft as well-worn gloves. For a top, I had on a sage tunic that fell to the middle of my thighs and was held in place by a wide, brown belt.

  “Where did you get the idea?” Faris asked.

  “A movie.”

  “It should work.” He took me by the shoulders and turned me around. His dark eyes danced across my face. “Not nearly as beautiful as you are meant to be.” He caressed my cheek, then took my hands in his. “Be careful.”

  I nodded.

  “Keep this form. At all times.”

  “I will.”

  “I wish I could go with you.”

  Taking a deep breath, I straightened my back. I didn’t want him to worry. He needed to see that I wasn’t scared. “I’ll be fine. Set your watch. I’ll be back in exactly two hours.”

  He reluctantly let go of my hands and nodded.

  We left the bedroom and walked downstairs. Benito was in the foyer, playing with a soccer ball I’d procured for him. He kept it from falling to the floor by using nothing but his head and feet. He was talented and, if I didn’t know better, I would have said magic was involved.

  “Hola, Benito,” I said.

  His eye flicked to me. He froze and the ball hit him on the shoulder and bounced away from him. He went pale as if he’d seen an alien—which I guessed he had—then ran to his mother’s side in the next room.

  Ma’ Gee, Helen and Anita were in the drawing room, which I’d outfitted with a large sofa, and a couple of wingback chairs and tables. The women were sipping coffee quietly, looking as nervous as I felt. When they noticed me, they did a double take and looked almost terrified.

  “Hey.” I smiled. “It’s just me, Marielle. How was breakfast?” I had wished another spectacular meal for everyone. It felt good to at least give them that small comfort.

  Helen set her coffee on a small table. “It was excellent. The coffee is just wonderful. Thank you.”

  “Sí!” Anita exclaimed. “Gracias, Señorita. Mucho mejor que el café de mi pueblo.”