“Fuck, dude.” I splash my face with water, hurriedly rinsing the shaving cream off so I can check on Sheena. I’m relieved to see she isn’t upset by his bluntness.
“Yeah, I would like to avoid wasting away, slaughter, and captivity.” Sheena’s words are garbled by toothpaste as she ticks through the grisly options on her fingers. Once she's done, she spits into the sink.
The ease at which we’re playing house with her should be weird, but it feels completely natural.I like this.
“Maybe we play it by ear and see how today goes,” I say. Sheena glances at me then, worry in her eyes. I know why she’s concerned. “Don’t worry about me,” I assure her. “I survivedliving with my parents for sixteen years just fine, and it would be nice to spend some time with Joshua and Sarah.”
I don’t mention my brother and neither does she, but I can tell she wants to bring him up. If Sheena had her way, we’d be hugging it out in no time. It’s unlikely as hell, but who am I to crush her dreams?
“Okay, so what are we going to do today?” She scrapes her hair back into a high ponytail and secures it with a black band.
“I was thinking we could have a supernatural boot camp and teach you some self-defense, since you’re new to all of this.” I broach the topic carefully, unsure how she’ll react.
“That sounds like a great idea.” Sheena’s face lights up in excitement. She drops into a boxing stance and holds up her fists. “I’m picturing a movie fight montage, except more awesome.” She throws a jab, followed by a cross and a hook. I crowd her against the counter, sparring playfully with her.
Sheena and I are still going at it when Gideon’s phone goes off. He saunters into the bedroom to get it, and I don’t think anything of it until his ferocious growl rattles the door frame. Sheena and I rush in and find Gideon staring at the screen, trembling with rage.
“What’s wrong?” I demand.
Instead of answering, Gideon angles the phone to show us both. Through our security app, we watch live as a masked figure ransacks our kitchen. The cheap skull mask is familiar. It looks just like the ones we found on the traffickers at the barn. To the side, I notice Sheena’s worn duffle bag. I searched high and low for it in the woods the day after she ran, but couldn’t find it anywhere. Now I know why, and I don’t like it one bit.
Who the fuck is this, and how did he find our house?
Sheena shudders and covers her mouth with one hand. Gideon shoves the phone into my chest, rushing over to wrap her in his arms. It’s only then that I notice she’s completely frozen.That’s not good.She can’t shut down—not now, not ever. If she can’t overcome this fear response, it could get her killed.
“Do you recognize this guy?” I ask.
I hold the phone where she can see it, ignoring Gideon’s glare. The masked fucker looks directly at the camera. His eyes glow yellow. Sheena takes half a step back and blinks a couple of times, then nods slowly, her eyes fixed on the tiny screen.
“I can’t be sure. I never saw his face, but I think he’s the guy who took me,” she says, her eyes wide and glassy. “Over the years, his guys have come close to catching me again. I don’t understand how they keep finding me. Gideon, that’s my bag. He must have been in the woods that night?—”
“He can’t get to you here, baby.” Gideon tightens his arms around her, and she nods woodenly.
I harden my heart and focus on what needs to be done. The time for playing things by ear has passed.
IDRIS
I need to decidewhich side I’m on. Her existence alters the status quo. Sitting at my desk, I drum my fingers on the polished cedar as I consider my options. The little djinn seems moderately stable for now, but without a talisman, she could deteriorate at any moment.
Something heavy hits the floor above me. The whine of drilling starts up again, snagging the threads of my thoughts into a hopelessly mangled snarl.
Insufferable construction.
It can’t be helped, I suppose. The alternative is to live indefinitely in this lifeless, stone mausoleum. But the volume of these improvements is grating in the extreme.
Studying the thick walls, I feel them closing in around me.Would it be too much to ask for a window or two?If the djinn harnesses her powers, she could bring light to this wing with a snap of her delicate fingers.
I close my eyes and imagine the large glass panels I would wish for.
The eastern windows would overlook a lush, garden paradise to watch the sun rise each morning. A riot of wildflowers grows nearby, guarded by honeybees and worshiped by exotic, dancing butterflies. Mother nature’s divine magic nurtures her children’s growth, blanketing my oasis in a thick carpet of grass. The sunshine is warm. The breeze is cool. The babbling brook sings a melodic song as I lay the djinn down on its banks and make love to her until the sun sets.
My eyes snap open and the vivid images fade to mist.
These thoughts are dangerous. My attraction—useless. I have displaced fae to lead and protect in this realm. They choose each day to follow me and pursue a future as a diaspora, instead of fighting over the bloody remnants of our homeland. I owe the folk my fealty, not some diminutive djinn.
If I can use her in my plans, that’s fine, marvelous even. If not, well, the best course of action may be to eliminate her entirely. My conscience stirs from its long hibernation, disgusted by the idea. But I bury it. Much like I did the full extent of my knowledge of her kind last night.
Human lore—while fascinating—rarely portrays supernaturals accurately, and in many ways, djinn are just like any other enhanced species. Far from omnipotent, they have strengths and weaknesses just like the rest of us. Accordingto legend, some djinn could birth civilizations, but many were limited to only granting wishes amounting to mere parlor tricks.
