He sinks back into slumber.
When I deliver him to the mansion, it's not even sunrise. The guards are ready and waiting.
I have no idea what daylight is going to bring for him. For me, though, the hum is gone.
For now.
***
The sun is up by the time I pull into my carport. There are no other vehicles. I grab the case file and trudge across the yard.
My muscles ache. My eyes burn. I just want to pass out on my bed for a few hours. Dirt and pine needles fall to the carpet as I step inside. I stop and look down, then sigh.
My fingers have blood dried on them. My hair is stiff with sweat. My arms have scratches from scuffling with Counselor Robert.
I probably should clean up.
I detour to the kitchen to cram the case file into the trash, then force myself through a shower before dropping onto my bed. My whole body protests, from my neck and shoulders down to my knees and calves. Even my knuckles hurt.
With a final effort, I crawl under the blankets and fall into blissful unconsciousness.
A vibrating bang jolts me upright. Someone is knocking on the window.
How the hell did Robert find me? I scramble for the gun in my nightstand.
Then Syd yells, “Hurry up, Dim! It's hot out here!”
I stare at the curtains. She is a raging lunatic.
“Coming,” I say, though I don't know if loud enough for her to hear.
I put the gun back in the nightstand, slip on pants, and meet her at the front door.
She tilts her head. “Did I wake you?”
“No, Syd, we were playing hide-and-seek. Congrats, you won.” I step aside.
She leans in for a kiss, then stops. Her eyes fix on my arms. “Rough night?”
“It's always a rough night,” I mutter and head into the kitchen.
She follows and slides up to the breakfast bar. “Do you have to work today?”
“God, I hope not.” I offer her a bottled water from the refrigerator.
She takes the bottle. “I was thinking we should go out and do something. See a movie, maybe?”
My head throbs, but at least it's not the hum.
“I'm really tired,” I say.
That's an understatement. Zombies look more alive than I do right now. Or at least feel.
She turns her lips up then shrugs. “I kind of figured. That's why I brought these.”
She reaches into her purse and pulls out a stack of DVD's.
I smile a little as I lumber past her toward the hall. “Come on, we'll watch them on the computer.”
In my room, she boots up the computer and pops in a movie. I sit on the bed, back to the headboard, and drink down another bottle of water. I feel like I spent days wandering the Sahara.
Syd crawls onto the bed next to me.
I hold up the blanket. “Naked and under the covers.”
She grins, and then wiggles out of the black top and long pants with slits up the side. Next goes the red lacy bra and matching panties. They are nice, but what's underneath is nicer. When she slinks next to me, her skin pressing against mine. She's warm and soft and smells like coconut. It's rejuvenating.
I put the water aside and slide my hand under the blanket to cup one of her breasts. She squirms closer to me, her leg over mine, her pelvis turned against my thigh.
“What are we watching?” My eyes are heavy, and I'm focused on the smoothness of her skin as I trail my fingers around and under one breast then another.
“Aladdin,” she says. “Aren't you paying attention?”
Fantastic. Just what I wanted: a cartoon about a genie. At least Robin William's genie doesn't stuff ball gags in the mouths of businessmen before stabbing them in the throat. If I recall. That doesn't sound Disney to me, anyway.
I move my hand down her stomach. “I'm more interested in the show on my bed.”
“It's not a show—yet.” She looks up at me and grins, then turns back to her movie.
My hand slides between her legs, and she clamps her thighs, nestling her warmth against my fingers.
I want this, every day, but my mind is too tired to contemplate how that might happen.
After a few minutes, she repositions herself so her head and breast are on my lap, the curve of her spine facing me.
She says, “You know, the word 'genie' comes from the word 'jinn'.”
“I didn't know that,” I say, and I resist adding that I don't care, either.
She doesn't realize this is an awkward conversation.
“People often confuse them for demons, but it's not the same thing. Not entirely.” Her voice is muffled, but I can hear her well enough. “You know how the Bible says humans were made from dirt or clay? Well, the jinn were made from fire or smoke, or smokeless fire. They had genders and free will, and some were good and some were bad. It's actually still part of the Islamic faith.”
Syd is a walking encyclopedia.
“It started before them, though. Maybe as far back as Zoroastrianism or Sumer. Some people think part of the Islamic beliefs were adopted from pagan traditions that developed long before, in pre-Islamic Arabia. Belief in the jinn even migrated with people to the Canary Islands.”