Jinni's Wish (Kingdom, #4)

Well, not the real him. Paz was staring at the painting, her eyes glued to the tall figure of the man he used to be. Her slim finger tracing the fine lines and swirls of paint, as if memorizing each stroke.

Jinni trembled as he watched her finger slide slowly down the length of his neck, across the width of his once broad chest, down each leg. But it was the spark of fire in her eyes that made him groan and wonder at the thoughts behind it-- wishing he could feel the touch of her caress, envious of a sheet of canvas. How pathetic he’d become.

“So that was your first day?” she finally said, turning back to him.

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

A secret simmer of a smile graced a corner of her plump lips. “Did you ever see them as something other than beetles?”

He snorted. “My arrogance knew no bounds. But yes, eventually I did come to befriend a few.”

“Like Aria?” She narrowed her eyes. “And who else?”

Standing under flat lighting, awful fluorescent lights bouncing off her shimmery form, her hair looked like rich oil-- liquid and black and tempting to touch. It spilled around her head in a halo effect, wild and wavy, he wanted to twine an end around his finger, bury his nose in the crook of her neck and inhale her scent deep into his lungs.

Paz looked so pure, innocent, and lovely. She’d been named well, because whenever he was around her, the guilt and anger bled out, leaving only her peace behind.

“I wish I could touch your hair the way you touched that painting, Paz,” the words spilled from him, he should take them back, wish them away, unspoken.

The center of his chest flared, the spot where he’d placed the necklaces. As if they woke and sparked to life. He knew what that meant.

Jinni closed his eyes, confused because he shouldn’t want this as desperately as he did. It wasn’t fair to her.

“The first time I saw you,” her words were close, whispered in his ear--Jinni shivered--“I felt the currents of your static roll against me. Do you feel mine now?”

She smelled of fresh turned earth, new life, and liquid sun. But he did not feel her. Every day was getting worse. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly parted. Jinni swallowed, if he was a man, he’d kiss her.

Desperate to remember, he ran his nose along her cheek, feeling nothing but void beneath him. She shuddered, her mouth tipping into a slight curve. “I can feel you. Can you feel me?”

There was such hope in her voice. She opened her eyes and he did it. He leaned in, and brushed his lips against hers, trying to remember what it would feel like to touch her again.

Wisps of memories came to him. The firmness of flesh, the give and take of two souls discovering one another, the taste of berries settling on his tongue… he swallowed the sigh of disappointment and uttered a lie. “I feel you, Paz.”

Her smile, more brilliant than a diamond, made him smile in return.

She looked out the window. “It’s morning again. Are you going to leave me now?”

He should. He should go and never come back, be the coward he wanted to be. Run away from her, from this, from the story that must be told.

Jinni shook his head. “I will stay.”

“Then tell me more,” she whispered and held out her hands, waiting for him to grab them as before. Another roll of canvas fluttered open before them.





Chapter 7





“Little princess, arise,” Jinni whispered, tiptoeing softly into her palace chambers. Gauzy drapings of the finest silk adorned marble walls, a colorful splash of teals and azure. The princess was fond of water.

In the year he’d been the King’s royal vizier he’d gotten to know the child well. Their land was fertile and rich, overflowing with milk and honey. But apart from the small river that bisected their boundaries, water wasn’t in much profusion out here.

She poured over tomes, enamored by the Western side of Kingdom and the miles and miles of deep blue and turquoise waters. He could never quite understand her fascination, for Jinni the beauty of this land was in its ruggedness, in the endless rolling hills of sand and the swaying palms. The heat that sizzled through his veins and the dry smell of jasmine and salt, more and more he forgot the stars he’d been born in. This was his land, and he never wanted to leave.

“Princess,” he whispered harder. It was forbidden for any member of the palace, aside from her handmaidens and royal family, to ever visit this side of the tower. “I’ve brought you a trinket.”

A slight breeze pulsed through the room, flapping the silk curtains and fingering gently through her riotous curls. She rubbed her eyes, squinting in the purplish lavender spill of moonlight and sat up. “Jinni?”

He grinned, cupping the hard gift behind his back and nodded. “I’ve found one.”

Sleep fled her eyes instantly, she shoved thick curls behind her large ears and gestured with her tiny palm for him to hand it over.