Jinni's Wish (Kingdom, #4)

“Really?”


He drifted closer, so close she felt the pop and buzz of his energy roll through hers.

Breathless, she asked, “What does mine sound like?”

“What does mine sound like?” he asked back, cocking his head. He had black curls, thick and sleek, glinting like onyx in flame. Her fingers twitched, wishing she could touch it.

“Like the blue of the ocean floor, or the inky black of a midnight sky.”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “You think in color?”

“I’m an artist.” She remembered the body with the bloated face and her shoulders sagged. “Or I was.”

A burst of static traced the line of her jaw. She glanced up as he pulled his hand away.

“You sound like my Kingdom. Like the golden brush of fairy light dancing through the night, the iridescent jade of a beetle’s shell in the moonlight.” His eyes searched hers.

“Where are you from that you see fairy light?”

“A place not of Earth. A place of fairy tales and magic.” His smile was self-effacing. “But I’m sure you do not believe me.”

“I’m half dead, Jinni. It’s not so hard for me to believe in the impossible anymore.”

His face was calm, nearly devoid of any type of emotion, save for the briefest twitch of his eyelid.

“Where did you go before?” she asked again. “Why did you leave me? Aren’t you bound to this place like I am?”

He shook his head. “I am not dead.”

She cocked her head. “Then why can I see you? Why can you see me?”

For a moment she didn’t think he’d answer. Taking a deep breath, he said slowly, “Because I am not bound by this world’s rules, I am a being made of magic. Though there is one similarity between us.”

“What?”

“I am dying. Just like you.”





Chapter 5





Jinni paced the length of his cave. The constant howl of the winds outside, normally so soothing, now irritated him like the constant drip of a leaky pipe.

He was angry.

But he didn’t know why.

He stared at his empty cave, at the pit of fire that burned perpetually in the center of the dirt floor. He stoked the flames, never letting them die, knowing they wouldn’t-- couldn’t-- warm him. That nothing could ease the icy chill that encased his soul. That nothing could break his antipathy. Each day an unbearable torture because it wouldn’t end. Because he was still here. Still existing in a realm outside of happiness, joy, life.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

He gnashed his teeth. She called to him, wakened something in him. A sleeping dragon with claws that’d slumbered for an eternity, now opening languid eyes with curiosity… and maybe something more.

Something volatile and violent.

“Why are you here?” the shrill voice of she interrupted his internalizations.

“Go away, Danika,” Jinni glared at the miniature, innocent looking fae.

She. His nightmare, his bondage, and constant reminder of what he’d lost. What he’d sacrificed so long ago. And for what?

For something as fleeting and inconstant as a vapor.

Danika quirked a pale blonde brow. She preferred the guise of a frail old woman. Doddering, and well past her prime. Most godmother’s did. He could never understand why. Did they assume it was because you’d trust them more that way?

But he was as dangerous as she. There’d once been a time, when his might could have quashed even hers. He could see the monster lurking beneath the mask of civility she’d worked so hard to cultivate, because he’d once worn one himself. For a time.

His soul trembled.

Danika’s blonde curls bobbed gracefully around her head as her lips twitched, as if she knew a secret he did not. A frothing swirl of fury burned his gut.

“What?!” he demanded louder.

Her grin only grew wider. “My, my, my… is that… anger?” She tapped her jaw, the silver tips of her nails glinting like jewels as the fire reflected off it. “Surely not my Jinni. Why, I thought antipathy was your friend now. Now tell me truth, honestly, why are you here and not there?” She flitted closer, dragonfly wings shimmering with pale threads of blue.

“I did all you commanded of me, master,” he sneered the last. “You told me to stay until the girl arrived. I’ve done that.” Forcing a grim smile to his tight lips, he sidled closer, until the electricity of his form crackled like static against her magic. “Are you here to demand I return?”

She licked her lips, then with a loud sigh crossed her arms and legs and floated before him, looking as dangerous as a gnat. “I’ve never demanded a thing from you. Not one thing, Jinni. I’ve always wondered about you?”

It was bait and he knew it, but he couldn’t help but ask, “How so?”