Carver wrapped up his call. Excitement sparked in his eyes as he turned to face us. “I talked to Ryker, a djinnologist I know. She’s agreed to help investigate,” he announced, his voice tinged with anticipation.
“Did you say gemologist?” Michael arched his brows.
“A djinnologist,” Carver corrected. “Ryker is an expert on djinns and genies. She’s my go-to person when it comes to all things djinn-related.”
“Ah. Okay. That makes way more sense,” my nephew said. “Got it.”
Djinnology was something I was deeply interested in learning more about. I had no idea it was a field someone could study. I leaned forward and asked, “How did Ryker become an expert on djinns?”
Carver leaned against my kitchen counter. He brushed a hand through his hair before explaining, “The same way you become an expert on anything—years of dedicated learning and a knack for unraveling mysteries.”
Recalling Zev's stories about the enigmatic nature of djinns, I expressed my skepticism. “Djinns aren't known for sharing their secrets freely.”
Carver nodded, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Ryker's not exactly your average human.”
“In what way?” I pressed, intrigued by the cryptic hint.
“She’s a bit like you and me. Half human and half supernatural.” He gave me a slight smile. “Ryker’s mother was human, and her father was marid, a powerful race of djinn who have a strong connection to nature and magic,” Carver explained. “They used to be sought out by kings and queens as advisors.”
Unlike Carver who was half sylph, I hadn’t been born a half-giantess. That had been Macha's doing. She’d taken the less than one percent of my DNA that had been forest giant and multiplied the heck out of it. “Did Ryker know about her lineage from the beginning?” I asked, fascinated by the unfolding story.
Carver shook his head, his expression solemn. “Ryker's mother passed away when she was seventeen. If her mom knew the truth, she never shared it with her,” he explained. “The revelation only came when Ryker turned forty and still looked twenty. Her father showed up and told her she would have to change her name and move every fifteen to twenty years if she didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that she wasn’t growing old. That was twenty-eight years ago.”
“Sixty-eight but looking twenty?” Rowan shook his head incredulously. “I need a djinn-daddy.” He grimaced and flushed as he glanced at Carver. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
I chuckled at Rowan's slip, enjoying the banter.
Rowan shot me a dirty look then redirected the conversation. “So, tell us more about Ryker.”
Michael gave his uncle a pat on the back. “Nice segue.”
My brother shot our nephew a look. “Pretty sure I didn’t ask for an opinion.
Michael grinned and gave him a thumbs up.
The marid might be a wise race, but this one wasn’t going to win any father-of-the-year awards. That was another reason to be grateful I’d never met my biological parents. “That has to be a hard way to live for Ryker.”
Carver nodded his agreement. “Ryker ignored her father. She’d do a lot of work remotely. It’s not hard to hide your near-immortality if you don’t get close to anyone.”
“How sad,” Michael said, his voice tinged with sympathy.
“Living that long can be lonely,” Carver said soberly. He gave me a sly look. “I’m over a hundred years old.”
My brother choked and coughed. “Inhaled spit wrong,” he rasped, his face contorted in a mixture of surprise and disbelief.
Carver chuckled. “Kidding. I’m only thirty-nine.” He winked at me. “For the past sixty-one birthdays.”
Rowan’s eyes bugged, but this time he could see Carver was joking. He rolled his eyes.
My poor brother. He was completely enamored of the eclectic witch. I hoped the feeling was mutual. “What can marids do?” I asked. “Magic-wise, I mean.”
Carver walked over, sat at the table, and spread his hands. “That’s the race of djinn that all the genies in lamp lore are based on. They will grant three wishes to anyone clever enough to trap them. They can also detect magic and the paranormal in the world.”
“Did your friend inherit any of the marid’s abilities? Can Ryker grant wishes?” Zev had told me that nothing is free when it comes to wishes.
“Ryker has a long life expectancy, of course, and she can detect magic and magical creatures, but she can’t apparate from one place to the other. Like most people, she has to walk, drive, or fly if she wants to go somewhere.”
I gave my phone a slight shake to wake up the screen. It was nearly noon. “When is she coming?”
Carver spread his hands. “She’s in Kentucky tracking a Kelly goblin tormenting a family living near Licking River.”
“None of that sounds like a real thing,” Michael told him. “Kelly goblin on Licking River. Who is coming up with these names?”
“And it doesn’t answer the question about when she’s coming,” I pointed out. “If Zev’s in trouble, we have to act now.”
“If you have any suggestions as to where we could start, I’m happy to hear you out.” Carver tipped his head to me.
I flipped him the bird then shrugged. “I could try the spell again.”
My suggestion was met with a chorus of “no!” from the guys.
“Fine. Gah. You blow up one stove, and nobody lets you live it down.” I knew they were right. Exploding more stuff in the house wasn’t the solution, but my heart ached, not knowing what was happening to Zev. The cryptic symbol for “caught” was the only clue I had to go on, and it wasn’t enough. My frustration mounted. There was nothing worse than feeling utterly powerless. If only there was a spell to conjure real answers, but life and magic weren’t that simple. Still, I clung to hope, desperate to find a way to free him from whatever trouble he was in. “So, how long until Ryker gets here?”
Carver nodded. “She said she was close to wrapping up the job and would be here by morning.”
Rowan looked at the demolished stove and then at me. “You could stay the night at my place if you want.”
“Or mine,” Michael added.
“Thank you. Both of you. I think I’m going to stay home.”
Now it was Carver’s turn to look skeptical. Or maybe it was suspicion. “Marigold, you shouldn’t be alone.”
“I’m not going to try the spell again,” I said. “Promise.” I crossed my fingers under the table to give myself some wiggle room.
“I can stay,” Michael told Carver. “I’ll sleep on the pullout sofa.”
In a dramatic pose, I touched my forehead with the back of my hand. “Et tu, Michael?”
“We can spend the evening going down a Google rabbit hole,” he offered.
“Enticing,” I admitted. A few years ago, I’d been diagnosed with ADHD, and hyper-focusing on internet searches for random stuff that popped into my head was a great way to raise my dopamine levels and get me out of my funk. “You’d help me do research?”
“Of course, Auntie.” His smile was earnest. “I’d do anything for you.”
“Because I’m your favorite aunt?”
“Sure,” he replied with a smirk.
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell Rose.” Dahlia wouldn’t care, but Rose was hormonal at the moment.
“So, it’s settled then.” Carver got up from his seat. “Before Rowan and I go, we’ll help you clean up the mess.” He looked at the stove and the black goo and smoke damage. “Well, as much as we can.”
“Can I leave while you do it?” Cleaning was my least favorite chore.
“Not happening,” my brother said. He grabbed a washcloth from the drawer near my sink and threw it at me. “Let’s go, girl.”
Michael chimed in with a naughty smirk. “She who smelt is dealt it. Therefore, she has to deal with it.”
I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t fart.”
“Sure smells like you did,” he pointed out… correctly.
Despite feeling somewhat out of control, I laughed. Grabbing a rag, I joined the cleaning party. My nephews logic might stink, but it was accurate.
*****
The internet had surprisingly little information on djinns. I had known that from previous searches, but I’d hoped Michael would have some Google ninja skills to find the secret paranormal dark web. Long story short, he didn’t. However, time passed so fast. Another benefit of ADHD was time blindness. If I was doing something interesting, five hours could feel like five minutes. At two o’clock in the morning, we called it a night.
I got undressed and put Zev’s blank stone on my bedside table. I rubbed my palm and still couldn’t believe that his symbol had imprinted onto my skin. There weren’t any raised lines, just solid black lines depicting several triangles arranged in an order that I’d memorized since I’d been given the smooth, round rock. The red lines weren’t like blood veins; the red was too bright for that.
“What does it all mean?” I uttered. I’d been so upset when I’d found the token blank, and I’ll admit, I was strangely relieved when Carver’s healing spell revealed and confirmed the cuneiform writing had transferred to my palm. I felt as if I still had something of Zev’s with me. The rock was cold, but my hand was warm. I pressed the symbol over my heart. “Zev, where are you?”
As I drifted to sleep, his face, lips, hands, and body were on my mind. I remembered the way he would whisper in my ear in a language that I couldn’t understand, but, oh man, those words were filled with so much promise. We’d spent three heated nights together before he embraced his fire, and during those three nights, I’d experienced more love and passion than I had in my entire adult life.
“I would not do this, libbu ša, if it weren’t necessary to keep you and your family safe. I need you to understand,” Zev stroked the side of my cheek. His gaze melted my core. “Please say you understand.”
“I do,” I told him. “Of course, I do.” He’d used his magic to make himself taller to match my new height. I slid my hands behind his neck and interlaced my fingers. I fought back the tears hot in my eyes. “I think what you’re doing to save Iris, and really, to save all of us is so brave.” I croaked as a sob jumped to my throat. “I don’t want this to be the end for us.”
“I don’t want that either, my heart. You have become...important to me. I never want that to change.”
“But it will change, won’t it?” I couldn’t meet his gaze. “If you’re fire, we can’t be together.”
“We’ll cross that road after we put Bogmall in a very deep, dark hole.”
“Will you take her right away?”
He nodded, his brown eyes going almost black. “I will take her to my people, but I will return.”
“Promise?”
“I will do everything in my power to come back to...Southill as soon as possible.”
“And we’ll still be friends?” I asked. “Even though we can’t...” I made a low whistle sound.
His kissable lips tugged into a smile. “Yes, even if we can’t...” He dipped his head, his mouth brushing over mine.
Electricity tingled through me and made a beeline for my groin. I moaned as I leaned into the kiss. Zev’s tongue slid across the part in my lips, and I opened for him as the kiss deepened. Oh, god. This would be the last time I’d ever be kissed by this man. I wanted the moment to last forever. But I knew it wouldn’t. It couldn’t. Soon, Zev would say goodbye, and that would be the end.
“I am a part of you, libbu ša. You have my heart and my soul, and as long as you keep them safe—keep them with you—then I am never truly lost.”
“I will keep you with me,” I told him. “Always.”
“I know you will.” He caressed my neck before lifting my hand. He turned my palm up before tracing the triangle symbols with the tip of his finger. “It’s time to wake up,” he said, then added, “Find me, Marigold.”
I narrowed my gaze, my brow furrowed. “Where are you?”
“Caught,” Zev replied.
“Between a rock and a hard place?”
“Between a liar and a thief.” His gaze went far off. “I can’t see my location but find the hunter.”
“Who’s the hunter?” I was confused. We were saying goodbye. I’d had this dream over and over of our last conversation in Iris’s backyard, but now the ending had changed. “What’s happening?”
“I can’t stay, my darling. If I do, he’ll find you. I can’t let him know that you’re important to me. He’ll use you to get what he wants from me.”
The hunter? This wasn’t how our goodbye had ended.
Zev’s smile disappeared. “He’s coming. Wake up, Marigold.”
“Wake up, Marigold.” Not Zev’s voice. Rowan’s. “Carver’s friend will be here in about fifteen minutes. She’s ten miles south of town.”
I blinked and gave my brother a death stare.
“Wow. What were you dreaming about?”
I quickly got out of bed. “Don’t talk to me. I don’t want to forget.” Dreams slipped away as time passed. Even seconds could kill one. I couldn’t let that happen, especially since this dream could hold the clue to finding Zev. I knew in my heart that Zev had managed to get me another message.
I grabbed my dream journal from the nightstand and removed the pen from inside it. I wrote down everything I could remember.
I looked at my brother, annoyed he’d dragged me out of the dream. What if Zev had more to tell me? “What’s going on?”
“Good question,” my brother muttered. He shook his head. “Carver’s friend. She’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”