by Lyn Brittan
Faruq put down his plate and grinned. “I’ll get some blankets to sit on. Meet me upstairs to get dressed when you’re ready.”
She tried not to smile.
She tried not to look up.
She failed at both. Getting dressed was one of her new favorite pastimes. She sent a group text to tomorrow’s three clients too and ran up to the bedroom, stripping out of her sweatpants on the way.
The man had a thing about lingerie. She did the best she could. Bras were the safest and she got on a green one without too much interference.
Faruq watched her from the edge of the bed, shirt off and pants unzipped. She bent over, butt towards him to put on the panties, but jerked up and set them aside. Just in case.
Thigh-highs next, nude.
Leg one? Check.
Leg two?
Before she got the hose halfway up, Faruq moved to stand directly behind her. His shaft pressed against her cheeks but she didn’t stop. When she stood up, his breath was hot on her neck. “Bend back over.”
He entered her swift and hard, one hand around her stomach, the other at her throat. He never took his time, always pulling, rushing, fast.
She loved it.
She knew that when they came back home and when it was time to go to bed, it’d be her turn to use him. But this first time was always his. It left her wet, desperate and feeling just the right side of dirty. Their relationship was the perfect balance of power and sharing.
When he was finished, he dragged his hand across her wet kitty and brought it to her mouth. She sucked while he talked.
“When we get home...”
“Mmmhmm.”
“After we make love...”
“Yes?”
“I have something for you.”
“What?”
He reached around, grabbed her panties and held them out for her to step in. “After.”
Dressing happened fairly quickly. She didn’t wash up, loving the delicious and wicked sensation of him lingering and sliding down her legs. She wished them to the park district, but he planted them off at the far end and they walked arm in arm through the congested street of families.
When he stopped to read a posted program, she caught movement out the corner of her eye. Unsure of what she saw, she turned to face an antique baby carriage wobbling across the uneven streets of the old city. Without doubt, it was the very same one from the first day they met. The one Faruq claimed to see when he was on his own and away from the house. “Faruq?”
He whipped around and sucked in his breath. “Get behind me.”
“Why doesn’t anyone else see this?” She ached to know what was inside. The thing turned to her and tumbled in their direction. With the handle within reach, she lunged forward, but Faruq whirled her away.
“No.”
“I have to know what’s inside.”
“It can’t be good. Look around. The last time we saw this, everything stopped. Everything. Now nothing. Whoever is controlling this isn’t as strong here. It’s the same when I’m alone. They can keep others from seeing it, but not halt things as they did before.”
“It was stronger closer to my house, but loses power at the actual property line.”
“Exactly. But I’m starting to take more stock in the belief those blessings worked to protect your place. At least some of them.”
The carriage tried turning towards their new position on the pathway, but it soon faded to nothing as if it’d never been there at all.
“We’re leaving.”
“We just got here, Faruq. It’s gone now. Let’s stay. Please? I don’t think it can hurt us, or it would have already.”
He swore a bit, but nodded. “Okay, hamdullah. Listen, we’ll stay for the show, get some energy in us and wish ourselves directly to the property,” he said, staring off into the distance.
He hadn’t caught it, but she had. It was the first time he’d called her that – ever said the word in her presence. Knowing what she was to him, hovered over like a specter in the dark. Hearing him say it presented an entirely new wave of emotion.
She liked it.
She could get used to it.
Love.
There it was again, growing in the quiet moments. She took a deep breath and made a decision right there and then to stop fighting it and start fighting for it. Without another word, she rose to her toes, gave him a kiss and led him to an empty spot on the dew glistened grass.
Chapter Ten
“Tell me more about this Lyons guy.”
Cassia stopped swaying with the music and threw back her head in laughter. “He doesn’t like you.”
“Can I kill him?”
“No. You should thank him. He’s the guy who told me to give you a chance.”
He was also the guy that stole most of her time. It would have been unthinkable in the past – a woman working so closely and so alone with other men. But he couldn’t ask her to change. It was up to him to catch up. Archaic thought wouldn’t do anymore.
Thank god for Tig. He helped tamp down on those urges to cart Cassia off to some deserted isle or blind every man who looked at her. His heart thudded with unexpected and unfounded jealousy. The whole mating process changed him throughout.
“We talk about you,” she said, rising to an elbow. “You can stop smiling about it.”
“And what do you say?”
“None of your business, djinn. What if I asked you what you and Tig talk about?”
He cleared his throat and leaned down. “I’d tell you.”
“Liar.”
“You know I’m not that. Go ahead. Ask, if you dare.”
“I dare,” she said, using a blade of grass as a pointer.
“Cricket.” And you.
“The fake baseball game?”
“That actually hurt, Cassia. I’m serious. It’s a beautiful sport.” He got on his stomach next to her and tapped his temple. “It kept me here, when I was on my own. The whole stadium comes together, an impromptu, if temporary, family. For three days, strangers stand in complete love. Sometimes more.” He chuckled and plucked her nose. “I’ll take you some time, if you’re good. Before you say you don’t have time, we’ll make time.”
“Faruq—”
“Hush. Listen to the music. We’ll fight about it later.”
“But, Faruq—”
“Or we can fight about it now.”
“I’d love to go.”
“Really?”
“No, but I’m willing.” She traced the outline of his lips. “Well, look at that smile. I’ll have to tell Lyons he was right.”
He shook his head in genuine confusion.
“About making you happy outside of the bedroom. It does feel pretty good.”
He made a mental note to send the shifter a truckload of steaks and loins. He had no thoughts of carriages and fighting after that. The last song came too soon. Not wanting this night to end, they lingered as the people around them left in pairs and groups.
Cassia’s upturned hand on the blanket grabbed at the air until he put his hand across it, interlacing their fingers. “This is good,” she said. “Real good. New schedule.”
“Okay. Let’s hear it.”
“No schedule. Aside from work, we do whatever we feel like doing. No more waiting for Sundays. Dinners out. Dinners in. Ice cream for breakfast. Whatever.”
“Because this is good?”
“Yep. I should wish us home, but I don’t want to go. Take me somewhere, Faruq.”
“The world is literally yours for the asking. What’s your wish? Anywhere, anything. That’s what I’m here for.”
She gave his hand a squeeze and locked onto his eyes. “I wish for you...for us...to do this. To be happy. Now, I know wishes can’t force a djinn to take action upon himself, so you’ll just have to do it the hard way.”
“Let’s go.”
“Back to the house? No.”
“Only temporarily. I promise. Wish us there. It’ll be worth it.
”
“It better be.”
They arrived on the porch. He opened his mouth to joke about carrying her over the threshold, but didn’t get a word in over her screams about the yard.
Which to be fair looked like a series of gnome construction sites. Holes dotted the yard. They came in three sizes. Large, larger and subterranean trench.
“When I find out who owns those damned dogs—”
“You’re not going to hurt them. I don’t think you can anyway.” Like the carriage, the supposed dogs appeared to follow a set of unknown rules. The creatures came around when no one was there to see them. He’d heard the barking plenty of times, but never once caught a glance.
“I’ll turn their owners to frogs or something.”
“If they have owners.”
“Strays? You’d better mean they’re strays. Otherwise, you’re insinuating the existence of magical dogs.”
“Well...”
“Why can’t it just be dogs? Normal dogs do this. Stop looking for danger. Magic isn’t everywhere.”
She twisted her mouth and he knew the subject was closed. Temporarily. He added it to the list of things to investigate on his own. “I’ll deal with it in the morning. Come on. I’ve got something to show you.”
“What?”
“This.” He grabbed her hand and flung them both into the lamp. The ride was a bumpy one, but they landed in a pool of gold and blue pillows. “Welcome home.”
“Is this...” Her jaw dropped before she slapped both hands over her mouth.
“Yes.”
“Huge,” she said beside him.
“Yep. There’s the sleeping area. And if you go down there, past the pool, you’ll find a working—”
“There’s a pool in your lamp? A pool?”
“More like a jacuzzi if I’m honest.”
She shrieked and ran straight to the edge. He considered pushing her in, but thought better of it. Two days he’d yanked her into the tub. Instead of hot sex, he’d wound up listening to an eight hundred minute conversation concerning something about reverting. Best not. The moment was too good.
Too sweet.
He had his mate in his lamp, the place that held his power. His home. Nothing was more important than falling into the cushions and watching her explore.
“You have a fireplace.”
“Uh huh.”
“Across from a dining table.”
“I almost never use it.”
“But...how...I mean...”
“Some of it comes from snagged wishes. Others, well, I touch it and come home. It comes with me.”
“Ah, this is where you bring all the ladies, then?”
“I tried with only one other. She was...not you. So very much not you, Cassia. The lamp wouldn’t have her.”
“Like it knows?”
“Oh, it does. We’re old friends, this house and I. Even when I abandoned...well...you belong here. You don’t even need me to come. I’m serious. Try it.” He meant to say more, but she’d already disappeared.
And reappeared via a very inglorious belly flop a few feet away. Cassia popped up from the golden pillows, rubbed her knees and crawled over into his lap. Unshed tears glistening in her eyes.
“Baby, it’s okay. Relax. I know this is scary. I didn’t bring you here to push you.”
“Cassia Dorcas Lydia Authement is the name that was called into the night of my birth.”
“Cassia.” Words had strength, but names held ultimate power. No one gave full names away, not lightly. Not, without knowing. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he knew all of Tig’s names.
He only knew two. His and now his hamdullah’s. He sniffed, cleared his throat and after several false starts, the words crawled out. “My name is Faruq Simi Adlai Ashour Hasan Wahid and I grant you the power of my name.”
A surge of raw force pummeled through him and into her screaming body.
“That’s...its...Faruq?”
“The power of my name.”
“It hurts...but it doesn’t. I don’t know how to describe it or what to say.”
“Words have no place in this moment. Come here, hamdullah.” He held her as she cried, arms wrapped around each other while their futures blended. They made love her way that night, soft, quiet and easy. He had an instant of doubt, but his body knew that she needed him and the urge to release too soon faded away, powerless against Cassia.
She healed him emotionally, bodily and in every possible way. They would grow together. Live through the ages and find new reasons to love each other with each passing year. How had he ever doubted this?
She fell asleep atop him with a grin on her face, one that likely matched his own. When her breathing had gone deep and heavy, he shuffled out of bed and materialized outside the lamp.
He found it there at the bottom of the staircase, right in the spot where he’d first whisked them away into it. He kissed his golden home and the precious contents it held inside.
The lights from the porch put off enough illumination for him to see the holes in the lawn. They’d multiplied during their short time in the lamp.
His grip tightened on the tiny thing as he trudged upstairs. Halfway there, the same porch light lit on something else - the tiny keyhole in the wall. A chill draped around his heart in the too still house, on this too still night. He said one word. “No.” To whomever, or whatever listened, the answer was no. His mate, his lamp, his rules. Whatever was here belonged to him.
*****
The front yard had three dozen holes and from what he could see from the porch, the damage went around the house. Cassia flew off the steps, morning joe in one hand and the other on her white robed hips. She toed the upturned earth with her foot, then stooped over. “Magic.”
“Ya think?”
“But we heard dogs.” After a rather crablike shuffle to another hole, her hand went inside and came out gripping something.
“I don’t care what it is, drop it. We’re leaving. Now.”
“It’s a key.”
“Leave it alone, baby. Let’s go. I’m going to get some clothes on and taking you to the hotel.”
“I’m not being chased out of my house.”
He tugged at the chain on his neck. “Your house is right here.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I know that there is a magic strong enough to have hidden this key and another magic determined to fight it. The two are duking it out and we don’t need to be caught in the middle.”
“What if—”
“Baby, there’s no ‘what if’ good enough to risk what I have.”
“But what if it leads to a secret level of the house? We might find ancient treasure.”
“Cassia, I’m rich. Born rich and in a thousand years, I’ll die rich. Lamp. Money. What’s mine is yours. What the hell else do you need?”
“It’s my home. Yes, the lamp too. I know that, but this is all I have in Galveston. It’s not Dinah’s, it’s not Mom’s or Dad’s, its mine. You and this house are the only two things I can say that about.”
“So I’m not enough?”
“Don’t go there.”
“Because I’d give up this lamp if you asked me to. I’d walk away from it.”
“That’s not fair.”
She walked right past him and into the hall. He snatched the key from her hand inches away from the slot. “Are you sure?”
The key slid into the lock, snapped and twisted all on its own...and so did the rest of the world.
Chapter Eleven
They hadn’t moved, but the house had. Dead grass crunched beneath her shoeless feet, but that wasn’t her biggest worry.
That would be the tombstones.
Endless tombstones splattered across a gray and brown landscape beneath a reddish sky.
“It’s all dead,” Faruq said beside her. “Congratulations. Your creepy ancestors kept a secret dead forest. Now you know. Let’s go home.”
“How?”
“Wi
sh it!”
She did, but nothing happened. Faruq frowned, the lines between his brows furrowing into deep slits. “My magic doesn’t work here. Hold on.”
He disappeared and the chain he kept around his neck fell to the ground. He stood beside it an instant later.
“Correction. My magic does work. At least I can get in the lamp. Wish for something else. Something here.”
“I wish my shirt was blue.”
It changed colors.
“Wish for something you don’t have here.”
“I wish for a coat.”
Nothing.
She tried the key still in her hand, held it to the air and twisted. Just like that she was back in her house.
Alone.
“Faruq? FARUQ!”
Heartbeats thudding in her ear, she put the key back in the slot and was transported to an ashen-faced Faruq.
“Cassia! Come here. Oh, my Cassia.” He picked her up to bury his head in her chest. Massive shoulders shook and when he pulled back to touch her face, his eyes blazed red. “Where did you go?”
“Home.”
“How long have you been away?”
Her heart dropped to the lifeless ground. “I...two seconds, no more than that. How long was it for you?”
“A little longer, baby. A little longer.” He hadn’t let go and he looked to be in no real rush to put her down. “I think this is something your ancestor created. The one who lived a little too long – I know how she did it. Dark magic’s at work here. Hamdullah, you are my light. Now I want you to leave. I’ll be fine.”
“Leave you again? Don’t be stupid. We’re getting out of here together.”
“Turn the key and go.”
Something moved out the corner of her eye. She tried to turn, but he held her face between his hands, refusing to let her see. She’d never viewed eyes more shadowed, broken or loss than his. “You need to tell me what’s happening right now.”
“Just leave.”
“I won’t go without you. Hold my hand while I turn the key. Don’t let go.”
His grip weakened when he kissed her and the half-second before their lips met, she turned to see what he’d been shielding her from: the antique baby carriage.
And more headstones.
