by Marie Hall
“Paintings, was it?” Pandora cocked her head, feathers on top of her tiny hat flopped forward.
“Oh please, this is insane,” Paz shook her head, “you probably heard one of them mention it. Why do you waste people’s money this way?”
Pandora smiled. “Because you’ll come. Though,” she cocked her head, “I’m very good at what I do.”
“I’m sure you are.”
What a waste of her time and Todd’s money. Paz stood, ready to head back out.
“Sit down,” Pandora’s voice brooked no argument, a shiver of heat zipped down Paz’s spine. Not fear, not exactly, but wariness.
She sat.
Pandora tapped blood red fingernails on her knee. “Go to Alaska.”
“What?” Paz snorted. “Alaska? Are you nuts? What’s in Alaska?”
“He is.”
Paz’s heart skipped a beat. He, as in he. The one? Prince Charming? Her Todd?
“Yes. The one. Your Prince Charming. Your Todd.”
Her mouth flopped open. Probably wasn’t pretty, but holy freaking cow batman, how had she done that? “I didn’t say that--”
“Out loud?” Pandora lifted a pencil thin brow. “You didn’t have to. I told you, I’m good at what I do.”
Heart thudding almost painfully in her chest, Paz’s left leg began to bounce up and down. So many different reasons why that was a cracked up idea floated through her mind.
Pandora pressed her lips into a thin line. “Stop over thinking this, Paz…”
“Wait?” She held up a hand. “How do you know my name? I didn’t tell you--”
She waved her hand. “You need to go. He needs you, he’s waiting. And he doesn’t have much time left.”
“Alaska?” Her voice sounded strained. Why was she even listening to this woman? This was so stupid. Totally dumb. And yet… “Where in Alaska?”
“Book a flight to Anchorage.” Pandora leaned forward, intense eyes never swerving from Paz’s face. “You have to leave tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” she squeaked. “This is nuts. You’re crazy. I’m crazy.” She laughed, voice sounding totally unlike hers. So why was she suddenly sweating, suddenly desperate to believe this lie?
“He’s dying, Paz, and only you can save him. If you don’t leave tomorrow, it’ll be over. He’ll be over.”
Something close to pain hammered behind her closed lids. Paz squeezed her armrests, nails digging in so hard she felt one break.
“You’re… lying?”
Pandora shook her head. “I never lie.”
***
How had she wound up here? Thirty thousand feet up in the air, flying to Alaska? Alaska of all places. Paz had gone to sleep last night, desperate to forget it all. But an ache, a gnawing need for truth, had begun to bloom in her chest.
What if it was true? So she’d be out a couple hundred bucks-- which would make her royally pissed, since she’d been saving for a screen press-- if it wasn’t true. But there’d been dreams last night. Lots of them.
A blue faced man, features distorted, but with hope shining in liquid black eyes. She’d woken up in tears and within seconds phoning the airport to confirm a roundtrip ticket to Anchorage.
Turbulence seized the plane and she yelped, biting down on her lower lip hard as her gut toppled to her knees. She hated flying.
Hated. It.
Why oh why, was she doing this? Time away from the carnival, the dream, made her think suddenly this was the stupidest idea she’d ever had. Richard and Todd had certainly been shocked, for a brief thirty minutes their wide eyes had made her feel brave, powerful. But now… the plane dipped, and she flopped in her seat, now she was just scared.
From the moment she’d stepped foot on the plane she’d gotten a strange sense of something being off kilter. Weird. But she’d ignored it, thinking she was just being the chicken Richard always accused her of being.
So she’d found her seat, not needing the compartment space, she’d packed light.
Literally she was flying to Anchorage with tickets back the very next day. Why had she done this?
She groaned when another round of turbulence tilted the plane.
She had no idea what she was looking for. Who she was looking for. She’d scanned the faces boarding her flight with an obsessive need to know if maybe one of them was Mr. Wonderful.
Then he’d sat next to her.
Heart pounding, trying to hold down the saltine crackers she’d noshed on earlier, she glanced at Mr. Tall, Dark, and Decadent sitting next to her. He was gorgeous.
Bronze skin two shades darker than her own, dark unruly hair that curled against the nape of his neck, and liquid black eyes. The eyes had made her think of her dream. It hadn’t been a huge stretch for her to think maybe it’d been him.
So she’d waved, and smiled.
He’d sat next to her, his delicious scent of clover and moss, teasing her senses. Paz had waited for the friendly smile in return. Nothing.
Like he’d not even seen her.
When the attendants had taken drink orders, he’d ignored her too.
He didn’t read, didn’t move, didn’t do a single thing. Which totally creeped her out. Stepford wife, or husband in this case, total weirdo.
The plane jolted again, this time listing deep to the side.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the pilot’s voice came on over the loudspeakers, “please put your trays in the upright and locked positions, we seem to be experiencing a bit of turbulence--”
“Oh sh--” the co-pilot cried and then there was static.
But that wasn’t the worst part, because now the plane was dipping forward, faster and faster.
Suddenly Mr. Creepy latched onto her hand, squeezing tight.
“Look at me,” he said, and oh man, so embarrassing that as they were crashing and getting ready to become nothing but a memory, all she could focus on was the flutter of her stomach at the sound of his whiskey deep voice.
Adrenaline spiked her veins, kids and women screamed. Oxygen masks dropped from the rough turbulence that shook her around like a rag doll.
“You’ll be fine. You’ll be fine,” he said and she nodded.
His eyes were so beautiful. Not black like she’d first thought, but a deep inky well full of stardust. His thumb caressed her knuckles, and she knew fire seeped through her skin, deep into bone.
A strange whistling rang loud in her ears. Paz lifted up on her toes, wishing she could run away. “It’s just like the movies,” she whispered.
He licked his lips and man they were nice. “What?” he said.
Tears crept into the corners of her eyes as her stomach bottomed out. A baby was crying. “The sound of death.”
His touch was so nice. So real and warm.
“My Todd,” she whispered as her vision blurred. He was looking at her, with an ache, a soul deep connection.
She’d finally gotten it.
Paz screamed when the plane pitched on its side. His grip tightened.
“Close your eyes, Paz,” he whispered.
How did he know her name?
Glancing over her shoulder, he licked his lips, and she didn’t miss the dilation of his pupils.
“We’re close aren’t we?” She knew they were, gravity was pinning her against the seat. The ground had to be only seconds away. Her body shuddered, tightened with goose bumps. Death breathed down her neck.
“Close your eyes, head on your knees. I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise.”
She dug her nails into his fist, but he didn’t flinch.
“What’s your name?” she breathed, back of her neck tightening.
They were close, within a second of crashing. The plane unnaturally quiet as people prayed, cried softly, or closed their eyes and waited for the inevitable.
His smile was so achingly real, alive. She sniffled, throat working back a hot tide of tears.
“Tristan Black.”
Nodding, she dropped her head to her knees and sq
ueezed her eyes shut. Her fingers still threaded through the hard strength of his.
She’d finally found him. Prince Charming.
So not fair.
There was a deafening whistle and then nothing else.
Chapter 2
He was floating, bits of debris sailing through a body that was once solid and firm. That’d once known pleasure, desire.
Jinni gnashed his teeth. Or at least, attempted to. There was very little substance left to him anymore. Trees towered in every side of him. The mundane world echoed with the faint buzz of animals at rest, sleeping insects, and stalking predators. But inside he felt nothing.
Nothing but an empty void. No joy, no sadness. He just was.
And he was tired of it.
Banished from his Eastern realms, tried for treason. And all for what? For something as insubstantial as the body he now called his.
Why was he here? Staring up at a liquid blue moon, gazing at an endless expanse of stars stretching far as his eye could see. He remembered the stars. Remembered dancing through galaxies, bending time and matter to his will.
He’d been powerful then. A being to be worshipped, feared.
But always, always with a weakness.
He stared at his wrists. A faint bluish white glow surrounded them, if he looked hard, he could see landscape through them. Once his arms had been burnished bronze, with sleek muscles that moved and rolled like a panther’s graceful glide when it struck prey.
At least that’s what she’d said. Nala, with her rose red lips and charcoal lined eyes. She’d been small, perfect… and he hadn’t been able to resist. Theirs had been a passion to rival that of Scheherazade for her King.
Magnetic. Powerful. And illicit.
Jinni dropped his hands.
Why was he here? He should have stayed with Ewan. He was not a slave to be commanded, ordered by a mere wisp of a fae to go and wait beneath the star.
And he’d known which star she’d meant. They all did. A bright jewel of a star that glowed like flame in the sky, mortals called it the North Star, but he knew it as home-- Kingdom.
So why had he come? Antipathy clung to him like a leech. He did not care what was soon to happen. Maybe he should? Maybe if he fought it more, he wouldn’t be a pale wisp of himself. But he was old. Ancient.
Older even than the fairy who called herself his godmother.
That thought elicited a whisper of a sound from him. He thought maybe it was a laugh, but he couldn’t be sure. There’d been a time when his services had commanded the eye of Kings and Queens, when to have a genie in your court proclaimed you to be a man of stature and power.
Now… he was nothing but a sad lyric in an old Eastern ballad: Beware, oh beware, ye of great power… the lips of woman beguile like ambrosia, but cannot hide the evil scheming of her heart.
Wind shoved through his body, a loud pop of indrawn air sucked at his back. He did not turn. He knew who was behind him. Her power rolled through him like a tingling tide.
“What?” he drawled.
“Jinni,” Danika flew to his side. “You’re here.”
She was in her mortal form again, though still wearing her translucent dragonfly wings. Her big blue eyes were wide and expectant.
He rolled a shoulder, his movements awkward and stiff. He didn’t even need to breathe anymore, everything he did now… breathing, smiling, even talking, it was all an act. A way for him to try and retain some sort of humanity. But he wasn’t sure he cared much anymore.
“Where else would I be, starflower?” His words no longer carried the sting of sarcasm. “I’ve nowhere to be, and no one to care.”
“She’s coming. Your mate.”
He looked up at the sky, studying the constellations. The night was clear, with nary a cloud to mar the exceptional beauty of this strange land. Jinni liked trees, but a part of him would always yearn for the endless rolling dunes of his homeland.
“Don’t you care?”
Should he? He waited for a spark, some thread of longing to fill him, breathe new life into his soul to brush away the decay that’d crept like a slow cancer through him. But it was empty and hollow.
“No.” He looked at her.
“Perhaps I waited too long for you, Jinni.” She wrung her hands together, her spider silk dress sparkling with dew.
He wasn’t sure, but thought maybe there were tears in the corners of her eyes. “Why do you cry?”
She sniffed, knuckling the corner of her eye. “I never wanted us to be like this. I know you can never fully accept me, but I would be your friend. If you’d let me.”
He studied her rosy cheeks, the pale circles under her eyes. She did not look well. “I was once a god. I do not think you could ever understand.”
Danika laid her palm upon his chest, a static tingle rushed through her fingers. “You’ve still got magic. It’s not been fully stripped.”
Glancing at his wrists, he said, “I was feared, a slave to no one. I owned land, animals, chariots. Within me was life or death, now…” he looked back at her, “there is just death.”
Straightening her shoulders, Danika shook her head. “I lost my sister, I will not lose my boys.” There was an edge of steel to her words. “Your mate is coming, she is your perfect match.”
Jinni glanced back up at the sky and narrowed his gaze when he caught sight of the flaming orange tail of a streaking comet.
“You can either choose to accept and live, or you can fade into the ether and never know true joy. The choice is yours, I cannot force your happiness.” She shoved something into his lax hand.
It took a huge amount of concentrated effort to grasp onto something solid, all the energy in him had to roll into his hand, just to make it substantial enough to hold on.
The effect left him dizzy and breathless.
Jinni unfurled his hand, within it lay two silver chains. A purple pendant attached to each, one square shaped, one heart shaped. “The stone of veritas?” he inquired with a raised brow. “What truths do I need to discover?”
“The stone can do much more than tell truth. It can show truth. Place the amulet around your neck, I’ve infused enough magic into it to make you fully fleshed and solid once and only once. Choose your moment wisely.”
“Why do I have two stones?”
“The other is for her. When the time comes. You’ll know why.”
Jinni shook his head. “I cannot regain solid form again, Danika. Even if I could turn solid once, what would that matter? I cannot retain the form for long, cannot know the erotic caress of a woman. Especially not a mortal. This is senseless.”
She frowned, blonde brows drawn into a tight vee. “You, a genie. You should know magic cannot be contained, cannot be denied. I tell you there is a way, I’ve already provided it.”
A soft humming filled the woods.
“How? You tell me my mate comes, and maybe I believe you. But how am I to know her, hmm? She cannot even see me. I’m a ghost among mortals.”
Danika jerked, her eyes went flat black and then she spoke, but the words were not in her voice. They were deep, a man’s voice. “Look at me. You’ll be fine. You’ll be fine…”
She was in a trance. Jinni cocked his head. Who did she speak to?
The first faint hum of curiosity stirred.
Suddenly he became aware of the absolute stillness of the woods and the whistle like shriek from the sky. He glanced up, and the comet was close. But he knew now, it was not a comet at all.
It was an airplane, and it was headed straight for them.
“Tristan Black,” Danika said, the name momentarily caught his attention and he glanced back at her. With a final shudder, she blinked. The black eyes returned to blue.
“Who is Tristan Black?” Jinni asked as the roar of twisting metal became deafening.
She smiled, tugging the square shaped pendant from his hand and slipped it around his neck. It settled with a flutter of warmth, spreading like tingling feelers through his body.
He glanced down, the pendant had flared to life, a bright and glorious undulating royal blue. He didn’t feel it, didn’t have to push energy through his body to keep it on, it simply stayed put.
“You are, Jinni.” And with those final words, she disappeared in a bright flash of color.
He barely had time to turn, when the world erupted into chaos. The plane crashed into trees, a wing tip ripped through his midsection, causing a momentary shiver of discomfort.
Rocks and debris flew like shrapnel, pelting and sailing through his face, his chest. With one final groan the plane sank to its belly, kicking up clumps of grass and dirt in its wake. Then all was silent save for the licking of the flames curling out of the wreckage. Black smoke billowed high into the heavens.
But the strange and empty silence didn’t last long.
In moments there were groans, and then screams as humans kicked and clawed at their metal coffin.
A latch was turned with a loud squeal, and then a man appeared in the black doorway. Bathed in shadow and covered in soot, he wheezed and coughed. “Come,” he called to someone with a voice grown hoarse.
Fire grew higher.
Shadow man turned and then dragged a body out. A woman, judging by the length of her waist length black hair.
Her eyes were closed, her full pink lips scratched and oozing blood.
The man was tugging on her arm. There was a mechanized motion to his body, unnatural. His movements were robotic.
Jinni floated closer, drawn to the man for some odd reason. Quickly glancing inside the aircraft he noticed many misshapen lumps, humans clawing and crying to crawl away from the greedy flames that’d already claimed some. The stench of sizzling flesh and hair reached his nose.
He turned his back, again drawn to the man who continued to drag the woman out. Now that he was out in the moonlight, Jinni could see him better. The stranger was covered in blood, a large gash stretched across his forehead.
There was something about him. Something unusual that teased at the corners of Jinni’s mind. He’d seen the strange movements before. Human, but not quite. Off.
And then he looked into the stranger’s eyes and knew. They were dead and empty. Hollow, with no life.
