“That’s not possible,” I say instantly.
“It’s not only possible, it’s natural.” Rook cups my face in his palm.
“You don’t need these with me. I like to see your eyes.” I reach up and pull off his sunglasses to set them to the side. Not only is it true that I think his amber eyes are beautiful, but I also need to see them to judge how he really feels. I’ve found one truth about humans over the last millennium—their eyes don’t lie.
Right now, Rook’s eyes tell me that he believes in a better world—no, not just believes it. He’s seen it.
“Tell me,” I whisper, taking his face in my hands and running my thumbs along the rough stubble on his face.
“Humans and Djinn can procreate. It doesn’t happen often, and as far as I know, the two have to be in love. I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense, but it does happen, which means we can commingle the DNA going forward.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. I don’t mean to belittle his beliefs, but I’ve never heard such an absurd thing. He stiffens and tries to pull away, and I hold him still, tempering my reaction with a sigh.
“I’m sorry. It’s just something that’s never even been in my wheelhouse. Tell me, when has this supposedly happened?”
“It’s enough to tell you it has. I’ve seen it. I need you to believe me, Mira, but naming individuals puts them at risk. I want to trust you, but you are part of some organization that wants to destroy everything I’ve worked for, and I have no doubt you are capable of it if you put your effort into it. You are Djinn, and I know you have others you can combine powers with.”
Rook does pull away this time, standing and pacing while visibly attempting to regain control of a temper I have yet to have seen boiling inside him. His aura pulses red and green as though the two are fighting each other for control, but the emerald color washes over him and the red turns back to rust and then to copper before he faces me again, dropping to his knees before me once more.
“Mira, you’ve trusted me thus far. You’ve delayed your objective, and I hope it’s because somewhere inside you, you see the merits of what I’m doing and that I’m not a danger or a threat to anything or anyone you care about. But it goes both ways. I don’t know you any more than you know me. I’ve tried to give you a peek tonight at who I am and what I stand for. It’s all I have. But I have people I love too. People I have to protect.”
“You let me meet Pops.” Returning his touch takes immense control. All I want is to drop to my own knees and devour his beautiful mouth.
“I’m good at reading people, Mira. And I don’t think you’d hurt an innocent man.”
No. I would not. Not unless I’m forced to by someone else, and I intend to make sure that never happens again.
“What makes you think I’d hurt this child of Djinn and human?” My voice is small, curious.
Rook shakes his head, taken aback. “I don’t think… I mean, I hope you wouldn’t. But if you really believe eliminating the Djinn blood on the black market is that dangerous, who’s to say you wouldn’t try to destroy such a child because of some supposed threat it poses to you? And not just you, Mira, but the Order of which I know nothing about.”
I nod, and he stands, offering me a hand.
“There’s so much to take in from what you’ve told me. So much to pull apart and try to understand.”
“I still have one more day to convince you. You gave me the weekend.” Rook pulls me close, and parts of me come to life in anticipation of a kiss.
“Then we should meet again,” I say, cutting him off as he dips his head. Whatever this strong pull or connection is between us, I need to delay it. I have to have a clear head to deal with the information he’s given me. But I promise my aching body that when I’m done with business, I will give in to its desires at least for one night. Rook doesn’t seem to have any qualms over that.
He nods and steps back. “Tomorrow? Same time?”
“I’ll meet you at your place this time,” I say with a wink.
When I travel back to my own place and he disappears from view, I let my lungs deflate of air and collapse on my chair. What are the implications of this new information? Would Djinn hybrids pose a threat in some way? Would they too be susceptible to enslavement by others for use of their magic? How often could it happen? And who is the child Rook spoke of?
I attempt to clear my head by taking a walk by the lake. The air is colder than comfortable for most people now that the end of November has taken the last leaves from the trees. So I have the boardwalk mostly to myself. The waning moon casts its light over the water, highlighting the ceaseless motion.
I pause, watching the Ferris wheel in the distance. There’s something so haunting about a being built for a purpose and remaining empty and unused even if only for the time being. If I’d have asked Kitra, I’m sure she would have been all too happy to tell me my purpose was to service her every whim and desire, to carry her around and around in an unending cycle. Then thoughts of Rhada and our first days together in human skin fill my mind.
We’re here to enjoy the pleasures humans take for granted.
That never felt true either and certainly is worthless as a purpose.
This body never felt completely right if I’m honest. It’s like a dress I had to put on to fit in, but not one that truly reflects me. What does? I wonder. What is my purpose? Would I be happier on the other side of the veil?
I’ve tried living that way, the way I was born into existence, but even there I feel as though something is lacking, and at least staying on this side when Leela finally gets her wish and closes the door I will be on the same side as those I care about.
I think of the way Rook sees me, my energy filling this vessel. That’s the truest reflection of self I’ve ever experienced. Can he see what I am really here for?
I shake off such a ridiculous thought. This is not why I’m here. I am here to decide what to do about the black market and the dissemination of Djinn Blood. I believe Rook when he says the blood is willingly taken. I don’t think those that belong to the Aladdin would allow any such torture. I wonder briefly if Silas has ever donated his own blood for Rook’s cause.
I’ll have to tell Dira about this development. No more time should be invested in what is, for all intents and purposes, a dead end. We need to free the final Djinn so that we can close the portal at the allotted time.
No time like the present.
I appear on the doorstep of Dira’s small bungalow. The moon is the same here, though lower in the sky as it’s technically three hours earlier in this time zone. The California air is warmer but still stings the bare skin of my arms. When I knock, the door swings open for me. It’s a polite gesture not to walk into another’s home. I won’t even do it to Leela or Taj for fear of walking in on something I’d rather not see with their significant others.
I find Dira at her small desk bathed in the glow of her computer screen and the Himalayan salt lamp beside it. She barely looks up.
“Nice outfit.”
“Thanks.” I conjure a chair and a glass of wine for each of us.
“Did you find anything at Aladdin?” she asks, finally turning away from her screen. If she were human, I’d most certainly find dark circles and lines beneath her large eyes. She shows no such outward signs of stress or fatigue, but her loss of Rachim is still relatively fresh. I know what it is to lose a Djinni lover to murder. She’s never had to confide a word.
I fill her in on what I’ve learned about the black market but hold back details of my attraction to Rook, his personal information and abilities, and the idea of the Djinn hybrids. The more I speak, the more I realize Rook’s plans may prove fruitless no matter what if we close the veil and lose the majority of our powers and immortality anyway.
Dira taps her chin with a chewed-up pen before responding. I sip my wine.
“We should wipe it now that you have access.”
I set the glass down a bit too hard. “It’s a waste of energy. There’s no harm in it. Even the DB will lose its potential worth when we close the curtain. We should secure the last six outliers. We only have a few weeks, and we can’t afford to lose focus.”
Dira laughs nervously. “It takes very little energy or focus to wipe out the threat. It’s worth the trouble just in case.”
My mouth tightens into a line, my teeth grinding together. “I should check with Taj.”
“Then why bother to come here? I thought we were doing this to keep some of the pressure off him.” The pen clatters to the desk, and Dira runs her hands down over her tired face.
“No. We’re doing this because we both need something to put all our effort into so we don’t have to face the reality of life without certain people in it.”
The air grows thick and full of static from the power rising between us, though on the surface we remain calm and still. I’ve dared speak of the unspoken agreement. Perhaps I’ve realized that it’s not helpful to either of us.
“I wish we could bring back those we love,” I say softly, reaching for her hand, which she yanks away.
“Not even a dozen Djinn can bring him back.” She focuses on her lap, and her voice is thin, even.
She’s right. We’ve tried. We started with the human companion of Leela and Jered. But the closest we could come was summoning his energy from wherever he now resides. Gabe’s message was of love and peace, which satisfied them. Curiously, Rhada and the other Djinn could not be summoned in the same way, which made me wonder if we even have souls. Or perhaps we were souls that had destroyed our essence when we dared find our own bodies.
“He would want you to live, Dira. And ultimately that’s all Rhada wanted for me. To live and experience the”—I search for a word other than sensuality because that’s what she had been so obsessed with—“happiness available to us in human bodies.”
It’s that simple really. Happiness is the goal, isn’t it? And that’s the something whose absence I feel so keenly. Rhada equated that with sex, which was new and exciting to her, filled with pleasure. An easy mistake to make, to confuse and conflate the two.
“What would make you happy right now?” I ask her, standing suddenly.
She stares up at me with blank eyes. “Happy?
“What did you like to do before Rachim?”
She blinks as though I’m speaking a foreign language. “I liked to swim in the ocean.”
“Come with me,” I say, holding out a hand.
“Where are we going?” she asks, joining me.
I smile. “We are going for a midnight swim.”