Djinn's Desire: A Mates for Monsters Novella Page 5

  Scanning the floor for her leggings, she spotted them on the back of the sofa behind Ophir. Rather than brave being near him again, she held out one hand. “Please hand me my clothes.”

  Without taking his gaze off her, he reached behind him and retrieved the clothing. “Why are you afraid?”

  She swallowed, heart thundering against her ribcage. Her muscles ached as if she’d just finished a marathon, and a surprisingly delicious burning between her legs served as a reminder of the heights she’d just reached. Grabbing her pants, she met his gaze. The connection between them pulled her toward him as if only he could alleviate the trembling deep inside her. A longing for passion, affection, and partnership. He made her want to tell the truth. She jerked her gaze away, stepping into her panties. “You’d never believe me.”

  He swung his legs around to face her, settling his backside into the sofa as if he was about to watch a football game. Except the only entertainment was her struggling back into her clothing. He said, “Try me.”

  Her stomach dropped. Back at the salon, he’d said he believed in magic. That’s what had started this entire thing. Could she confide in him? Would it ruin her chance to save the salon? Or worse, drive him away? This man had just chosen to pleasure her while taking none for himself. The thought of never seeing him again hurt. Settling her waistband around her hips, she took a deep breath and faced him. “Did you really mean it when you said you believe in magic?”

  “I do.”

  “And that’s why you want to invest in the salon?”

  “Yes.”

  She pointed a finger back and forth between them. “This can’t happen again.”

  “I can’t promise that.” The hungry gleam in his eyes made her swallow down her own lust and longing.

  “It’d only end in trouble. Believe me.”

  “How do you know?”

  She clenched her teeth. “Because I do.”

  “Convince me.”

  Standing there glaring at him, she was torn. The need to justify herself had never felt so strong. If I tell him, what’s the worst that could happen? He’d think she was crazy and run away forever. Which would probably be a good thing, even if it meant losing his business backing. Still aware they were in a public place but needing to finish this conversation for good, she moved around the desk. She needed something physical in between them to carry on. She’d never talked about her wish with anyone. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to now. But Ophir seemed more genuinely interested than anyone she’d ever met. She stared at the stacks of receipts littering the desk, only half-seeing. “My mother and grandmother died when I was eight.” She twisted her fingers tightly together, trying to keep the horror that haunted her dreams under control. “They gave their lives for me.”

  She glanced up, and his attention threatened to burn a hole straight through her. He asked, “That’s their photo in the salon?”

  She nodded, neck stiff. “It’s one of the few things that survived the blast. Besides myself. I survived without a scratch.” Her skin prickled with remembered heat, and her blouse stuck to her skin uncomfortably. “The official report said our motor home’s propane tank was leaking. But…” She looked at him through her lashes, bracing herself for disbelief and ridicule like she’d received as a child. “The real cause of the explosion was our demon.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Demon.”

  It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. What was he thinking? Was he afraid? Did he think she was batshit crazy? Her pulse thrummed in her ears. “I know I sound crazy, but he’s real. And you don’t need to worry. He’s not dangerous. Not anymore.”

  The demon had taunted her during her early years, telling her to grow up fast so he could be free of the obligation tying him to her. Apparently he hadn’t realized her unfulfilled wish would block his greater powers. That he wouldn’t be free to harvest more humans until her wish was complete and she was settled in with a loving husband and family. By her eighteenth birthday, when the wish could be granted, she’d resolved to reject it.

  Ophir asked, “Is he… still with you?”

  Her hand automatically went to her chest, where the pendant had hung for years until she’d discovered the dampening power of the safe deposit box. Ophir’s gaze followed her move, then returned to meet her eyes. She chewed her lip, uncomfortable under the scrutiny. “He’s restricted to minor magic until he fulfills my wish.” She tried to lighten the mood. “I call him a poltergeist, but he hates that.”

  “I’ll bet he does. He probably doesn’t like to be called a demon, either.” Was that amusement dancing in his eyes? He relaxed back onto the sofa. “So let me get this straight. You made a wish, and you believe your mother and grandmother paid for it?”

  “I’d already made the wish when my mom found me, and a wish can’t be broken. But it can be renegotiated, so she and Grandma bargained their two souls for my one. I watched them make the deal.”

  “I’m sorry.” His brows drew together in what seemed to be genuine regret. “What did you wish for?”

  She swallowed, wondering how he was taking this all in stride, but on the other hand she was glad he wasn’t making telling it any harder. Especially now that they were at the point of this confession—the reason she couldn’t be with him. Couldn’t allow herself to fall for him, not even a little. “To have a loving husband and family and live happily ever after.”

  He cocked one eyebrow. “Ah, a delayed wish. That makes more sense. You no longer want the wish?”

  Tears burned the back of her eyes and she set her jaw, the longing ache within her stronger than she’d ever experienced. “I don’t deserve it. It’s my responsibility to make sure he never hurts another human being again. If I allow him to fulfill the wish, he’s free. If I die before then, he dies with me.” She grit her teeth, helpless anger welling up within her. “I’ll destroy that evil creature if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “I see.” He rose suddenly, his eyes impossible to read. “We’d better get back to our table. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. And we have a business deal to conclude.”

  Her heartbeat was painful inside her chest. He had no more questions? She hadn’t known what she expected, but complete acceptance of her situation—indifference, even—wasn’t it. She’d told him she had a demon, for God’s sake!

  He waited by the door, then escorted her from the office, one hand familiarly on her lower back. Tingles ran up and down her spine at the contact, but he seemed unaware of his effect. The kitchen staff went on about their business, oblivious to their passage, and she wondered if he’d paid them all off. Planned this entire thing. But if that were true, why hadn’t he taken full advantage of her? She stumbled back into the dining room, more confused and torn than she’d been during his seduction.

  Maybe he really was only interested in the magic? Seducing her was merely a side amusement. Or he stopped because he found out you’re a virgin. That made more sense. She had no skills or abilities in that department. Of course he’d lose interest in her.

  She told herself that was fine as long as he still wanted to invest in the salon, which it sounded like he did. After all, he’d said they had a deal to conclude. If he could save the salon, she could harden her heart and forget what had happened. Or hold onto it forever. The one and only date she’d ever have. Best make the most of the memory. Signaling the waitress, she said, “I’d like to see the menu again, please.”

  Damned if she wasn’t going to order the most expensive thing on it.

  Ophir swirled his wine and studied Tanika over the rim of the glass, so many thoughts warring within him, he didn’t know where to begin. She’d called her djinn a demon. A creature. And she wanted him dead, even at the expense of her own deepest wish. That was powerful magic in and of itself. An unfulfilled wish explained so much; the magic embedded within her cells, the reason he couldn’t read her like he could other humans. The attraction pulled at him stronger than any portal ever had. Stronger than eve
n another djinn had any right to pull. The attraction only a mate could wield.

  A mate who wanted to kill djinn.

  He grew dizzy with memories of Emelda, who’d carried djinn blood within her, although she was unaware of it. Believing she might be worthy as a mate, he’d courted, wooed, and eventually revealed his true nature to her. She’d been a devout Muslim, and confessed his secret to the Imam, who in return incited a riot against Ophir’s master. The outcry was explosive, for the master was disliked throughout the kingdom. Deep under the influence of the poppy, the master slept while the rioters set his chambers on fire. His ring-portal melted and his bones charred to ashes. Ophir could only stand amidst the flames and watch, unable to act without his master’s orders. He’d closed his eyes against the volcanic intensity released with the destruction of the portal. Shuddered as the fire raged throughout the palace. And walked away as the flames spread over the rest of the city like a tsunami.

  No one in the palace survived.

  He blinked away the memory as the waitress removed his half-empty bowl of lobster bisque and set a plate fanned with enormous prawns before him. Loving a mortal was folly. He might as well fall in love with one of these shellfish. But fate seemed intent on driving him forward. Tanika was irresistible.

  She’d ordered a prime rib with fermented garlic cream. He found it amusing that she’d decided to order her own meal after their intimacy. As if she, too, wanted to resist the extraordinary connection between them. She licked her lips and eyed his plate as if regretting her entree decision.

  “Would you like to try one?” he asked, stabbing a succulent prawn with his fork and holding it out to her.

  “Oh, I don’t want to take away your dinner.”

  “Please.” He stretched the fork across the intimately-sized table toward her mouth.

  She hesitated only a moment, her gaze never leaving his, then leaned in to accept. The fork held too much for a single bite, and when he continued holding it toward her, she grinned delightedly, finishing the morsel off. “Thank you. That was amazing.”

  “I didn’t say it was free.” He cocked a brow at her.

  She looked at him wide-eyed and frozen, like a deer in the headlights.

  Damn, her innocence was sexy. He pointed his fork at her plate. “I want a taste of your prime rib.”

  “Oh!” She laughed nervously and pushed her plate toward him. “Oh, sure. That makes sense.”

  He looked down at the plate then back at her. Smiling in a way he knew women couldn’t resist, he opened his mouth expectantly. Wooing her might be folly, but he couldn’t help himself. She was so lovely sitting there across from him, refreshing in so many ways. His honest gypsy. He didn’t have supernatural hearing, but he swore he could hear her heartbeat racing like a mouse’s. Making her uncomfortable was a delightful game.

  “Oh!” She hurriedly cut a slice of prime rib and lifted it with her fork, hand trembling.

  “You’re adorable when you’re nervous.” He allowed her to shove the too-huge bite in between his lips. The beef was quite nice, tender and flavorful and seasoned with a hint of lemon.

  “Is this normal for a business dinner?” She stared at her fork as if it were a foreign object.

  Still chewing, he shook his head slowly, eyes never leaving hers. She’d known the answer before she’d asked it, of course. Mortals couldn’t help playing the game.

  A series of emotions contorted her face, as if she wasn’t quite sure which to settle on. Brows pinched and lips pale, she cleared her throat. “Listen, I know we kind of got off on the wrong foot. But like I told you, what happened back there,” she twitched her gaze toward the kitchens, “can never happen again. I can’t be in a relationship. I want to talk about the salon. Business.”

  So they were back to this. Business instead of pleasure. She was a stubborn one, for sure. Her rock-solid refusal to fulfill her wish must be driving her djinn insane. He realized he was jealous of this unknown djinn having access to her any time, day or night. “Okay, then. I want you to be my personal psychic. On-call twenty-four seven.”

  Her brows drew even closer together. “But I couldn’t even read you.”

  “Exactly.” He bit into a prawn, chewing slowly. “So when you do see something, I know it’ll be real. That’s worth a lot to me.”

  Tanika narrowed her eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

  This woman might be innocent when it came to men, but she’d obviously had a lot of experience with her djinn’s trickery and double talk. He picked up an asparagus spear. No relying on a trust spell. No charming her with a come-hither. Perhaps right now the truth would serve him best. Yet the truth had cost him Emelda, and he didn’t want to repeat that cascade of horror. A partial truth, then. He set down the asparagus and wiped his mouth with his napkin before proceeding. “What if I told you I can free you of your djinn?”

  He’d been thinking about this ever since she’d revealed the unspent wish. Everything with djinn came at a price, and Ophir had wondered from time to time how he might convince a kinsman to allow him passage, since he had little to offer. Tanika’s wish provided a unique opportunity. After decades trapped by an unfulfilled wish, her djinn was probably desperate to return home. Enough that he’d relinquish his claim on the portal if Ophir assumed the wish’s debt. Tanika could not only be rid of her djinn, but Ophir could remain at her side. At least for the remainder of her short mortal life.

  Tanika let her fork clatter to her plate. “I don’t want him free. I want him dead.”

  The venom in her voice sent a chill through his immortal blood. The death of a djinn was a rare thing. More fierce in its repercussions than the destruction of a portal. Even the power-hungry djinn who hunted those weakened after procreation were cautious in their methods. What would she think if she ever found out Ophir was a djinn? He cleared his throat, vowing to himself not to let that happen. “I can send him away. Humans will never have to worry about him again.”

  She regarded him through narrowed eyes. “How do you know so much? How do you even know he’s a djinn?”

  His breath caught. He’d let that slip. She’d never called him a djinn, only a demon or a creature. “I’ve been drawn to magic my entire life,” he said. “I’ve studied centuries of arcane knowledge. As soon as you said there was a wish involved, I knew.”

  Her shoulders relaxed a fraction. “He took advantage of a young child. Killed my family. Has basically held me hostage for almost two decades. I want him to suffer. ”

  “He won’t be free. He’ll be trapped in his own realm once again. Believe me, he’ll suffer.” The djinn was already suffering, his magic slowly draining away the longer he held the wish open, yet he was unable to close it. Djinn magic was a lawful thing, even though djinn nature could be chaotic. An agreement could be twisted, reinterpreted, even renegotiated, but never broken. Her djinn would return home a weakened thing, susceptible to other djinn.

  She licked her lips, obviously still skeptical. “You could really banish him from Earth? Forever?”

  “I can’t promise forever, but he’ll be weak. At the mercy of other djinn, and believe me, they are cruel. The likelihood of him acquiring another portal is slim.”

  “And what would happen to my wish?”

  He scratched behind his ear, uncertain how to answer her. He had every intention of fulfilling her wish. And yet a part of him felt dirty that he’d use the wish to requite his own desire to mate her. She was mortal. Fragile. Finite. Ultimately, he’d be the one to suffer, left behind when she passed on. Djinn magic could not grant her immortality. A wish required a soul, and becoming immortal was contrary to the cost. “Wishes never go away. Whether or not yours comes true would be up to you.”

  Tanika stared past him a moment, her eyes glazed as if thinking about something. Her throat rippled as she swallowed. Then she rose so fast her chair clattered to the floor behind her. “I have to go. Now.”

  Spinning, she ran from the restaurant.

  Oph
ir was on his feet, confused by her sudden turn of emotion. And then a familiar scent from behind him made him stiffen. “I wondered what had my little human in such a tizzy.”

  Chapter Six

  Ophir spun to face the voice. The scent of djinn magic assaulted him, but not the sweet anise coming from Tanika. This was a bitter acetone stink, the kind that came from a starving djinn. The bare-chested man standing in the middle of the restaurant gathered no odd looks, his magical glamour forcing the servers to skirt him without realizing why. He slid directly toward Ophir and took Tanika’s seat at the small table. Age lines creased his face, a feature rarely seen on djinn, yet he still moved with the lithe confidence of one who had no fear of physical harm.

  Slowly lowering himself back into his seat, Ophir faced his kinsman. Their kind seldom came face-to-face here on Earth, and when they did, it was often because warring masters caused them to clash. He hadn’t been in the presence of another djinn in almost a millennia, and he found himself surprisingly misty-eyed with emotion.

  His new table companion snatched up Tanika’s wine glass with one gnarled hand, downing the contents in a single gulp. “Ah, I miss having a master who appreciates the finer things.”

  Picking up his own wine, Ophir sipped, keeping his face neutrally amused, despite the rapid pulse in his temples. “Greetings, kinsman. I’m called Ophir.”

  “Elim.” The djinn waved a hand over his bare chest, conjuring an outdated dress jacket and cravat, then signaled the waitress for more wine. “You’ll have to forgive me, Ophir.” The djinn cut into Tanika’s prime rib. “I have very limited time here, and am seldom near the pleasures of such fine cuisine.”

  Ophir wondered exactly how this djinn had come to be here, since he’d detected no portal on Tanika’s person during their intimate encounter, and a djinn could not travel far from that point. But it wasn’t a question he could ask outright. Talking to another djinn required finesse. A careful attention to detail so as not to be trapped when an inevitable deal was brokered; all interactions with djinn resulted in a deal. “Does she treat you so badly?”