by Lyn Brittan
The sincerity in his voice heated her face. Lord knows she understood how jacked up magic could be. She’d been there enough times to know better. “Sorry for snapping. I sometimes have jerkish tendencies. Truce?” She held out her hand again.
And again, it wasn’t taken.
“Seriously?”
Before she finished giving him a piece of her mind, Tig swooped in between them and threw her over his shoulder. “How about a nice family breakfast? I think we can all use something to eat.”
From her sack of potatoes position, she had a clear, if bobbing, view of the handsome boor. The man’s face tightened, but he bit his lip in something that registered remorse. Okay. Heavy remorse.
Something else was at play here. Tig was a standup brother-in-law and wouldn’t let even the hint of a slight pass if ill will were intended.
Maybe the brother had a phobia about touching. Maybe something worse. A curse? Between problems, human and Magical, she ran down a list of what this sad looking man might suffer from. She was back to feeling like a douche and tried for an upside down half-smile.
One he kinda, sorta returned as he followed them down the hallway.
Tig abandoned her in the kitchen to help Dinah with the plates. Her sister waved, but went right back to her husband, whispering and looking over his shoulder. Whatever. She’d grown used to it and slid into a seat at the table. Faruq took the one opposite and grinned into his coffee. “I can have jerkish tendencies too.”
“Runs in the family, then?”
“As beauty runs in yours.”
“Aren’t you the flirt?” He wasn’t naturally smooth, but she enjoyed watching him try. As if he heard her thoughts, the smile dropped, he grabbed two sugars from the bowl and went back to staring at his coffee. Could the man simply be shy? Hmmm, that was annoying, but curable. “So, Faruq, Tig is a kakillion years old. What about you?”
“A kakillion and one, I suppose. If we’re being precise. How was the milk?”
“That was you? Nicely done. I’d high five you, but you’d probably leave me hanging.”
“I suppose I deserve that. Maybe I’ll make it up to you with a milkshake next time.”
“I’ll take it. You know, you’re cute when you smile. You should do it more often.”
She didn’t quite get the response she hoped for. Faruq coughed and reached once more for the sugar. She shoved the canister out of the way before he put himself in a coma. Compliments were a no, then. Dinah and Tig brought stacks of piping hot meats and gooey confections to the table, cutting off a final attempt at common conversation.
Dinah passed around the butter. “Faruq’s staying here for a while. We’re so excited to have him.”
“I hope I’m not imposing too much.”
“You don’t impose,” Tig said, squeezing his hand over his older brother’s. She watched a sad look jump from one man to the other and it left her even more confused. Why did Tig need to comfort him? What on earth was she missing?
She’d never ask. While she hadn’t experienced trauma in her life, there were things her sister and Tig never discussed. They had a look between them and Cassia saw it right now at this table. She flittered out of the conversation and shoved another slice of pancake into her mouth.
“Right, Cassia?”
“Hmmm?”
Dinah’s eyebrows jerked toward Faruq. “I said, that it might be fun for you to take him out on one of your runs. It’ll be a good way for him to see the city.”
A quick glance to Faruq’s slate blank face didn’t reveal his thoughts on the issue. She aimed for the most noncommittal grunt she could muster and took her half-full plate to the sink, before setting on another pot of coffee.
Every so often, she’d turn to find him staring at her, before quickly looking away. Maybe he hadn’t flirted at all and was only being polite when he talked of her looks. Like a twelve year old, she’d imagined something not there. Fair enough.
A chime indicated a finished pot and she brought the carafe over to the table. She filled Dinah’s cup first, then Tig’s and even Faruq’s. Her arm brushed against his shoulder when she leaned in and...well...all kinds of hell broke loose.
Chapter Three
Blinding pain, blinking stars and a million ringing bells assaulted his senses. “What happened? Why am I on the floor?”
Dinah’s hand brushed at his forehead while Faruq tried to get the world to stop twisting. A quick check to the back of his throbbing skull produced blood coated fingers. What the hell?
“It’s alright, Faruq. Tig told her you passed out from exhaustion. Too much magic, we said. She already started jogging back to her house.”
“Her who...oh...oh...her.”
Cassia. Strong, amazing, Cassia. Now he really was grateful to have the floor at his back. He should have known it the moment he saw her. All those years avoiding a woman’s touch, only to have a pot of coffee ruin everything. A new shadow fell across his face. He didn’t bother to open his eyes. “Shut up.”
“I haven’t said anything. Nothing. I could have mentioned my older brother fainting, but I didn’t.”
“Shut up, Tig.”
“...like a little girl at the sight of blood.”
“Tiglathpileser, shut your mouth.”
His brother did shut up then...for a second. “Back before you were passing out, my name on your lips would have had me pissing my pants.”
“It’s her.”
“Figured.” He opened one eye to a hairy thigh. His brother squatted beside him with a towel in one hand and a glass of water in the other. “Ah, well. You could do worse than an Authement woman.”
“He’s right. We’re not so bad,” Dinah said from his other side.
A mate. A life’s partner. He’d been down this road before and it’d led him to the gates of hell.
Yes, it had happened before... and those sorts of things only occurred once in an existence. She wasn’t his hamdullah. That woman died ages ago. “It can’t be Cassia. You know that, Tig.”
“I know she laid you the hell out. I also know that what I have with Dinah, I wouldn’t trade. What you had before, that couldn’t have been this. You got caught up. That’s different than this.”
“Don’t.” Faruq sat up, waving away unwanted hands of assistance.
“I remember her, Faruq. You didn’t pass out. You also didn’t love her.”
“Stop it.”
“Who are you trying to convince here?”
What was the alternative? That he’d cared for a woman and had his life nearly ruined by her for no good reason? He laid right back down on the floor and threw his arm over his eyes. “This isn’t happening.”
“It is.”
“This can’t be happening.”
“It is.”
“You are not helping.”
“I am, but I don’t need to tell you that. Do I?”
No. He’d been lonely in those days. Sad and jealous. Too eager to find a partner. And now he possibly faced the real thing and didn’t know what to do with it.
“Take her out for a drink,” Tig suggested, as if reading his thoughts.
“My husband’s right. Maybe you had a super reaction. With all this magic running around, some supernatural wires might have crossed. But you deserve to find out for sure and my sister deserves to know if she is.”
He’d been alone for so long that maybe his imagination had taken hold in sheer desperation. Hell, he could have just been horny. Or could the blame rest on the overstimulating mixture of a beautiful woman, a house with four Magicals and having his lamp back? It could have been anything. Or everything. Or nothing at all. “No. There’s no point.”
Tig gave him a right and proper Algerian knock to the chest. “Sure. As long as you’re fine with another man touching her. Can you handle that? She’s got a lunch date tomorrow, so either you fix this tonight or let it go. But let me say this, she’s not like that whore before. Cassia’s a witch. She knows our kind and our lives. My a
dvice is to put on your big boy panties and get your shit together. Dinah, give him her number.”
“I, uh, don’t have a phone. Hold off on the eye rolling. I’ve never needed one before. I’m not sure I need one now, for all that.”
“Do you want one?”
“Why do you insist on rushing me? Can I have a few seconds to get my brain matter off the floor?”
Apparently not. Tig threw up his hands and stomped out the room with a brusque, “I’m done.” Only the soft-spoken Dinah remained.
“Well, I’m not,” she said, with an outstretched hand and a wink. “I’m tougher than I look. Meaner too. So you’re going to get up and figure this out.”
“Is that a wish or an order?”
She shrugged, then pulled her hair into a bun and grabbed her purse. “Pick one. Scratch that. I wish we were at the mall and, oh never mind, I’ll grab the keys. Be right back.”
In the blessed silence, Faruq sagged against the wall and stretched his back. He’d come here for a lamp, not a wife. Did he believe Cassia was the one?
Not exactly.
Did he want another man touching her?
Well, not exactly that either...
Chapter Four
On the run back home, Cassia stumbled over every stone in the country and received a dozen angry car honks in the city. Her mind’s eye locked on Faruq, leaving her physical ones just sorta dragging three steps behind. But c’mon! What was the man’s problem?
Djinn didn’t have physical medical conditions that she knew of. That didn’t, however, speak to mental strains that might befall any Magical. The next thought that popped into her head landed her straight into a thicket of dead rose bushes. The pain hardly registered.
Oh, why hadn’t it come to her sooner? Someone must have had his lamp. The dear thing had likely been under the servitude of some jackhole who’d drained him dry. The thought of it sent her blood boiling and she had to do an extra two laps around the block before continuing on. She very rarely got so angry that magic bubbled to the surface, but trees withered around her and bugs chattered in protest. Even worse, she didn’t have enough control over her power to shut ‘em up. The extra two laps became an extra five.
No, she wasn’t a decent witch. She knew no spells by heart and her pull on power was never as strong as her sister’s. But she had a feeling that if the person who hurt Faruq stood in front of her right now, she’d light ‘em up.
How had it even happened in the first place? Tig’s lamp stayed safe around Dinah’s neck or his own. Faruq must have slipped up and lost it somehow. She shuddered and did a sixth lap. Djinn couldn’t be made to hurt themselves, but their kind had a long history of being tools of murder and torture. That would mess anyone up in the head.
By the time she reached her house, she prayed for a rock to slither under. It was no wonder Faruq hadn’t wanted to touch her when they met. Instead of concern for his condition, she’d jumped from unnecessarily cruel to annoyingly flirtatious. Even worse, the beautiful man had taken her crazy in stride. If Faruq ever spoke to her again, she promised not to embarrass herself.
Drenched, she kicked off her shoes and slid across the floor on damp feet. Every few steps, a new lump of clothing dropped to the floorboards as she stripped out of her running gear. She’d overdone it. Her arches ached, her blowout was now a ‘fro out and she had to roll down her panties to get them off.
Upstairs, she hopped into the shower and rested her head against the fogging glass. Even here, that djinn invaded her thoughts.
His face.
His short cropped hair.
His lips weren’t bad either and the image had her hands moving. She’d been too long without a man’s touch and with her schedule, there weren’t any prospects on the horizon. Memories of Faruq clouded her mind and as her fingers danced over her body, she imagined his hands leading the way. He’d be a patient lover, slow and considerate.
Then again, the quiet ones always surprised you. Thoughts of Faruq having her against the wall or balling her hair in his fist were enough to turn her shower into a far more pleasant enterprise than she’d anticipated. She was just rounding third base...and pondering if one could third base oneself...when her cell phone rang.
She ignored it for all of 0.2 seconds.
On the infinitesimal chance it could be him, she scrambled out of the shower, sliding wrist first across the tiles. One hand shaking, the other was forced to bear the burden in her Frankenstein crawl to the bedroom. “Hello? Hellohellohello?”
“Cassia?”
“Yes, um, hi. Uh, Faruq?”
“If I’m bothering you—”
Be cool. She let out the breath she’d been holding, ignored her now scraped wrist and pushed the throbbing pain away to feigned awesomeness. “I wasn’t sure I’d hear from you again.”
“I’m sorry for my behavior.”
“Strong ditto. Mine, I mean. We should start over, don’t you think?” She thought she heard a whoosh of air on the other line and a little something fluttered in her tummy.
“That’s why I’m calling. I hoped that you could show me around.”
“A run?”
“Not exactly. I had drinks in mind.”
Her fist pump to the air was immediately followed by a wince at her burning wrist. She used to know a spell to fix that sort of thing.
“Cassia?”
“Right. Yes, I’d like that. Soon?”
“Tonight. If you’re not busy. I know it’s short notice but—”
“Pick me up at eight. Gotta go. Bye.”
She hadn’t meant to hang up on him.
Well...she had. Drawing that out would have left her open to more humiliation. Nope, best to end strong...ish. She had business to handle and only nine and a half hours to find the perfect outfit, do her hair and erase the ridiculous grin crawling across her face.
She ran to her closet, fast on the hunt for something tight, sexy but not slutty.
Hair? Flat ironed.
Grin? Still plastered on. No help for that.
Game? Got it.
Magical wrist fix? She’d work on it.
Chapter Five
Faruq triple checked his tie in the rearview mirror of the borrowed Jag. He wiped his damp hands against the side of the leather seat one last time and checked his teeth before getting out. It’d been eighty years since he’d last gone out on a date and he knew he was nowhere near as suave as he used to be.
Date. The word was so impermanent. One day on a calendar. Back then, they’d called it courting and it meant forever. On the other hand, perhaps the word did suit. He’d know soon enough and planned to touch Cassia the second she opened the door. He wouldn’t have it hanging over them throughout their night.
If she was his, he had a place to work from. If not, well, at least he’d have a pleasant evening with a beautiful woman on his arm.
...assuming he didn’t faint again.
Right. Battle stations.
She answered on the first knock and he was very lucky to be holding on to the door when she did. “Wow.”
“Too much?” Behind her, the lights of her house flickered, but that may well have been his imagination.
The sleeveless black dress looked to have been painted on her, accentuating every curve and muscle of her body. Where Dinah was small and delicate, her younger sister was a warrior princess in heels. Very, very high heels. Heels attached to legs and thighs that went straight on up forever. “No...perfection.” She turned away, but not before he caught her grinning. “May I escort you to the car?”
She took his offered hand and a glorious tenderness that stung in its intensity, burrowed through his heart. She’d done it again.
“Everything alright?”
“Not sure how much your sister told you.”
Her smile didn’t drop, even as she gave a very unladylike snort. “Dinah never tells me anything. I’m still the annoying little sister. It must be nice to be the older sibling. I’ve gotta admit, I’m
looking forward to some juicy stories on Tig. Crap, I’m blabbering. I mean, shoot, did you want to come inside for a drink or—”
“No!”
“Right.”
Her smile dipped and he could punch himself in the face for causing it. “Not that I don’t want to come in, but I didn’t eat much today and I’m starving. Why don’t you tell me about this place we’re going on the way?”
It got her in the car and talking.
A lot.
Unlike her sister, apparently Cassia didn’t need to breathe. She pointed out every house, every corner and every pothole in the road. It ought to have put him to sleep, but her voice tingled on every word, like a bird in the distance. Perhaps she was a bard, one of those rare witches who could sing words into the magic.
Then she started humming along to an outdoor street band and he knew that couldn’t be the case. The sound progressed into outright caterwauling, even after they left the intersection.
“Are you smiling at my singing?”
“No. Well, the key isn’t exactly...that is...you’re kind of terrible.”
“So? Don’t you like music? I do,” she said, not giving him time to answer. “I shouldn’t sing, but I always sing.”
“You’re not the least bit embarrassed, are you?”
Cassia scrunched her nose and shook her head. “I wake up each day and do the exact same thing. That’s cool, though. I like order. But, music is my release. When I’m working out or relaxing, music unwinds me. You could use a little of that, Mister Man.”
“That’s why you’re here.”
“I see.” She clicked her tongue and leaned back against the headrest. It got real hard to choose between the two things his eyes should focus on, her or on the road. Cassia caught him smiling once or twice, but he could claim the same. For the first time in ages, he felt young again. Damn this amazing woman.
And her neckline too. The space between her breasts cushioned a single teardrop sapphire. Lucky gem.
“Watch out!”
“Oh, khara!” An old-fashioned baby pram wobbled in the road, forcing him to swerve off the pavement. When they jumped out of the car to investigate, the baby carriage was gone. “Did I hit it?”
