Jinni's Wish (Kingdom, #4)

Another white coat rushed in. “Paddles,” he cried as he raced to other side of the bed and threw the sheet back, opening the front of the woman’s hospital gown.

Jinni floated away from the bed. He couldn’t watch anymore. Couldn’t see what they did to her. He rushed through body after body, exiting the sterile room and leaning against the white washed halls, staring absentmindedly at the throngs running in and out of not only her room, but several others down the hall.

There were beds in the halls, stacked one on top of the other. Lumpy forms obscured by white sheets, the burnt odor of hair and flesh a macabre reminder of where they’d come from. Most hadn’t survived the crash. And those that did, would probably wish they hadn’t.

A cold shiver washed over him. Energy from a portal of time, which meant she’d returned.

“She will die,” he said, never turning to gaze at Danika. “Why send me a mate, only to kill her in the next breathe? Cruel, even for you, starflower.”

There was no venom in his words, he hadn’t the strength for it.

Danika flitted in front of him, mournful blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. “She’s not dead yet, Jinni.”

Finally he looked at her. “But she will die. Is that what you’re saying?”

She took a deep breath, dragonfly wings undulating gracefully behind her small fae frame. “Losing Miriam, that was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through.”

Jinni didn’t want to hear about her sadness. Didn’t want to do this, share and confide. He barely knew the woman. She meant nothing to him.

And yet… maybe she did. Because the spot where his heart used to be burned with a gutted sort of flame.

Danika patted his arm, or at least attempted to. Her fingers were cold as they slipped through. He clenched his jaw.

“But I can promise you, if you choose the right way. If you make the right choices, happiness can be yours.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes and staring at the milling bodies. “I’m tired, fairy. Tired of this half-life, tired of the endless days. Tired of it all.”

The words sounded so cold, spoken without the slightest inflection or trace of sorrow. They just were, a sentiment he’d had years to accept. And yet a siren’s song beckoned him from within the sterile room full of beeps and strange noises. A soft and quiet yearning he could hardly understand, for a woman he didn’t know.

“Don’t you dare say that to me!” She clenched her fist, yelling with fury, but also something almost like pain. When he looked back at her, it was to notice fat tears leaking out the corners of her eyes. “I’ll not lose you too. Miriam was many things, but never a liar. She told me what would happen. I know each and every outcome, each path every choice could make. Make it right, Jinni.”

“Why do you care? I have never liked you, fairy. I never wanted a godmother.”

Danika’s nostrils flared. “Because I will do my job, no matter what. You were given to my care, and I take my job seriously. I hope someday you can accept that, Jinni, but either way… I won’t stop.”

Swiping her hand, she opened a blue portal and without stopping to look back, flew inside. Only then did he realize he’d never asked about the Golem.

“What’s happened to me? Where am I? Can you see me?”

The sound of the dulcet voice drew his attention, made the memory of a pulse stutter through him. Jinni turned and sucked in a breath when he caught sight of the soft blue glow of a woman’s form filling the doorway. Beautiful brown eyes stared back at him with a hopeless gleam.

“Can you see me?” she asked, a thread of hope lacing the softly spoken words.

Jinni nodded his head.

She breathed a huge sigh of relief and ran up to him, throwing her arms around his waist, but quickly fell through. More insubstantial than a ghost, Jinni felt the ripples of her energy wash through him. Pure and clean, and lovely. He stared at her on the ground, wishing he could hold out his hand.

She wrapped her arms around herself, white hospital gown slipping down her pale brown shoulder. “Are you dead?” Then her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with trembling fingers. “Am I dead?”

“My name is Jinni.” It was the only thing he could think to say, desperately wanting her to know his name. Wanting to share a piece of himself, miniscule though it was.

She licked her lips. “My name is Paz.”

He smiled. A traveler had journeyed to his Kingdom long ago, bringing a caravan of servants who’d spoken in foreign tongues. One in particular, a green-eyed beauty, had taught him bits of her language. A lyrical, romantic language called Spanish.

“Peace,” he said, “Paz, means peace.”

She smiled and something painful twisted in his chest. “Yes, Paz means peace.”





Chapter 4