Djinni and the Geek

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Djinni and the Geek ISBN 9781419913730 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Djinni and the Geek Copyright © 2007 Cindy Spencer Pape Edited by Helen Woodall. Photography and cover art by Les Byerley. Electronic book Publication December 2007 With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/) This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

DJINNI AND THE GEEK Cindy Spencer Pape

Dedication For Randy and Jane—Geek love is a wonderful thing! Congratulations to the best of friends, and many happy years together.

Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Beretta: Fabbrica D’Armi P. Beretta, S.p.A. Corporation Black Flag: Black Flag Company, The Corporation Boy Scout: Boy Scouts of America Coke: The Coca-Cola Company eBay: eBay, Inc. Glock: Glock, Inc. Jeep: DaimlerChrysler Corporation Mountain Dew: Pepsico, Inc. Sara Lee: Sara Lee/DE N.V. Corporation, The Netherlands Sleeping Beauty: Disney Enterprises, Inc. Smith and Wesson: Smith and Wesson Corporation Target: Target Stores, Inc. Twinkies: Continental Baking Company

Djinni and the Geek

Chapter One “Die, you mangy bastard!” David ignored the curse but winced as his opponent caught him with a vicious sword blow aimed at the rib cage, which David only just managed to deflect with his shield. That’s what he got for letting his mind wander for a moment during a battle. Had David been even a nanosecond slower, this fight would be over. The impact jarred his shield-shoulder though and the hot muggy weather was making every old injury he possessed ache like the devil, as well as turning the dirt beneath them to a slick, muddy mess. Maybe his sister was right. Maybe he was getting too old for this and should leave the fighting to younger men. But he was in this battle now and he was damn sure going to win it. Attention now fully focused on his opponent, David defended while he watched the younger, taller man’s flashy moves. Ah. That would be his weakness, then. The youngster was faster and had the advantage of reach but his movements were just a little too dramatic. He’d probably never been in a real fight in his life. David waited for his opening then struck during one of his opponent’s overly long follow-throughs. His sword sliced cleanly up under the other man’s sword arm, with a solid blow to center mass. A killing shot. Finally. His opponent crumpled to his knees at the force of the blow, shock in his eyes, which was all David could really see through the visor of the other man’s full-face helmet. He waited ‘til the other man acknowledged the defeat with a nod, then David turned to the stands and bowed to his liege lord and lady. Finally this stupid contest was over. “Victory for Sir David.” There was a smattering of applause and a chorus of catcalls as the herald bellowed out the result. The younger man, tall, blond and handsome, had been the crowd favorite. Oh well. David leaned over and held out a hand to help his opponent to his feet. “Nice moves,” he muttered as the two bowed to the crowd once more. “But get someone to teach you about street fighting one of these days. The dramatic flourishes might get you a few more wenches but down and dirty wins the fight almost every time.” David had learned that the hard way, at a very young age. It was a skill that had saved his life more than once. “Thanks, man.” Both men tossed their rattan blades to their squires and pulled off their helms as they strode off the tourney field. Dave shook the sweat out of his longish curly hair. The muggy heat made wearing padded armor a pain in the ass but that beat getting the shit kicked out of you without it.

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A serving wench in a low-cut chemise and tightly laced corset scurried up with two foaming mugs and eyed the younger knight suggestively. “Come on over to the tavern, Sir Brendan.” Brendan cast David a questioning look. David took his mug then laughed, barely remembering what it was like to be that young. “Go.” He shook his head. “Good job.” Dave smiled as a pair of friends strolled up from the stands. “Hey, Dave. Wasn’t sure you’d make it this year.” He set his beer on a stump then stripped of his gauntlets to shake hands with two other regulars on the tournament circuit. “Me, miss a tourney? Not if I can help it.” “I had to miss the last one,” one of the men groused. “The wife said I was spending too much time on fighting and not enough on her. We spent the entire week at her parents’ house.” He shuddered dramatically. “In-laws.” David chuckled. “Reason number one why it’s good to be single.” An exotically dressed dancer walked by, her black curls tumbling to her thighs and the bells on the hem of her garment jingling in time with the sultry sway of her hips. She flashed David a come-hither smile and he saw that her eyes weren’t dark as he’d imagined but a striking lavender color that had to be contacts. Oh yeah, he wouldn’t mind seeing what she had to offer. He finished his beer in one long swallow, then set the mug on a bench. He clapped his buddies on the shoulders. “And that, my friends, is reason number two. See you at the bonfire tonight.” His friends headed back to the stands and David set off toward the merchant tents to find the dancer. An hour later, he still hadn’t found her. He’d even gone and watched the belly dancers’ show, hoping to catch a glimpse of the violet-eyed beauty but to no avail. He leaned against an oak tree with another mug of ale and wondered what to do. He didn’t have another bout scheduled until the following day, since today was filled with the first-round eliminations. While he should go watch and study the competition, he just wasn’t in the mood. He could probably find a woman to keep him company. He was no great shakes to look at, average height and sturdy with curly reddish brown hair that hadn’t been cut since his friend Eric’s wedding in May and a beard that sorely needed a trim. Still, in this crowd, his status as a winning combatant usually carried some weight. One of the thirty-something barmaids had been giving him the look but her buxom blonde charms just didn’t appeal. Not today. He wanted the dark-haired dancer and she was nowhere to be found. If he couldn’t have her, then what he really wanted to do was check his email. It was too hot to go sit in his tent with the flaps down and the authenticity fanatics would have a shit fit if they caught him using his cell phone anywhere out in the open. David

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loved these medieval reenactments but some of the crowd took themselves way too seriously. Maybe he should head into town. He’d been camping out at the tourney site for two days already. Maybe it was time to put on some modern clothes and go grab a burger. Air conditioning would be a bonus. He ducked into his tent to grab clean clothes, then hiked up to the one set of showers the campground provided. Then, dressed in clean cargo shorts and a t-shirt that read Sarcasm, just one more service we offer, he grabbed his laptop, climbed into his camo-painted Jeep and headed for town.

***** Anissa smiled as she paced the small confines of her prison. He was coming for her, she was sure of it. Her hero. The one who would break the spell. She didn’t know when, she didn’t know how but it would definitely be soon. She’d dreamed of him this morning, smiled at him in her vision, although she hadn’t been able to see his face. Anissa flopped onto a cushioned divan and closed her eyes. What would he be like? Tall? Handsome? Of course. Who’d ever heard of a short, ugly hero? A wizard, most likely. A mere human would never have the power to break the spell. He’d also need power to face the wizard who had trapped her in the puzzle box. She wrapped her arms around her body to ward off a chill of fear. Because one thing Anissa was very, very sure about, was that Murdoch of the Moorlands was never going to give her up without a fight.

***** The Gulf Coast town was bustling even though it was Thanksgiving weekend, but David managed to find an empty table in the back corner of a coffee shop with free wireless internet access. Ah, civilization. He’d been out of touch for two days and was starting to go through tech withdrawal. Paradoxically, reverse tech withdrawal was one of the reasons he participated in several reenactments every year. When you made your living teaching computer science to college students, sometimes the only way to stay sane was to step back and let it go now and then. A few colleagues knew how to reach him in the case of a real emergency. This fall he was more restless than usual even after a trip to England for a tournament last August. Maybe it was because his main partner in crime, his officemate and best friend Eric Gordon had married last spring. Now that Eric had somebody else to spend his time with, it left David more alone than usual. Or maybe it had more to do with the big-time shake-up his belief structure had had to deal with last spring. Or maybe he was just getting old. Oh, Get over yourself, Garvaglia. Thirty-seven wasn’t all that bloody ancient. Although it had felt like it when he was facing down twenty-something Brendan

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Malone this afternoon. If Brendan took his advice and learned to fight instead of just showing off, next year he was going to kick Dave’s ass into the dirt. Dave clicked through his emails. There were several from Eric and his wife Lori, a few from his sister and a couple from students. Dave smiled when he found one from his friend Drake. Eric and Lori had discovered Drake last spring, living in the steam tunnels below the campus of Southern Michigan University, where all of them taught. David and a couple of other friends had been brought in to help identify and catch the computer hacker and would-be wizard trying to enslave Drake. Right now Drake was traveling through Asia, looking for long-lost relatives and Dave smiled at his friend’s descriptions of Uzbekistan. He twisted the Celtic silver ring on his right pinky, a gift Drake had given him in thanks. It never got old, knowing he was the personal friend of an honest-to-goddess dragon. It was approaching sunset when Dave locked his laptop into the Jeep and walked the two blocks down to the shoreline. Florida’s sunset coast was aptly named and he figured he’d watch the show before heading back to the campground and the inevitable party that would be well underway. Shops lined the streets and he glanced through a couple of windows, eying tacky souvenirs and upscale menswear with equal disdain. He did duck into a used bookstore and spent a few minutes haggling over a mintcondition pulp paperback from the twenties before zipping out the back door to the alley which would serve as a shortcut to the beach. He’d wrangled himself a good deal on the collectible, so he was whistling as he went. There was a dinky antique shop across the alley that actually looked intriguing. For one thing, it was small and dingy, not flashy like most of its neighbors. A hand-lettered sign reading, Open—Mind the cat graced the streaky glass back door. For another, most of the stuff in the window looked real. Odds and ends and curiosities rather than large valuable pieces. Maybe he could find an oddball gift for his sister’s birthday. Dave stepped over to the stoop. As he was pushing the door open, he heard a crash, then a scream from inside. His entire body immediately went on alert and he almost reached for the sword he wasn’t wearing. He crouched and opened the door, going in low and peered down the cluttered aisle. The jumble of merchandise prevented a view of the front of the store, so he crept forward, nabbing a broom as he went. By the time he reached the front of the shop, the aisle widened out and his eyes had adjusted to the light. The shopkeeper, an older woman, was in the process of emptying the cash drawer of her antique register into a yellow plastic grocery sack. It was going slowly since her blue-veined hands were shaking badly. Standing next to her, his back to David was a tall, lanky youth with a big, shiny knife. He didn’t even think about it. Life on the streets followed by a four-year hitch with Uncle Sam had given him the skills, sword fighting and paintball tournaments kept him in shape. He had the drop on the kid, so Dave whacked him upside the head with the broom handle and with two more sweeps of the makeshift quarterstaff, had him down and disarmed. 8

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“You okay, ma’am?” The kid started to say something but since Dave was sitting on his chest with the broom handle across his throat, he shut up as soon as Dave pressed down. Angry dark eyes glared up from inside the hood of a black sweatshirt. A dirty blue bandana covered the lower half of his face. “Ma’am?” “Oh!” The white-haired woman seemed to snap out of her daze. “I’m fine. Thank you so much, young man.” “You might want to call the cops.” The old lady looked down at her assailant and bent to tug the bandana down to his chin. She studied his face with her lips pressed into a thin line. “I know you, don’t I?” The youth squeezed his eyes shut. Dave eased up on his broom just enough to allow speech. “Yes, ma’am.” “And would you care to explain this behavior?” The young man’s eyes went wide and terrified. “No, ma’am.” “Do you and your sister have money to eat tonight?” The older woman looked down and shook her head. The kid went slack beneath Dave. “No, ma’am.” The woman pursed her wrinkled lips and tapped her chin. “Well. Here’s what we are going to do. You are going to sweep up the glass you broke.” She picked up the plastic sack she’d dropped when Dave took down the kid and withdrew the stack of cash. She placed two twenties on the counter and put the rest back into the register before turning back to the pair on the floor. “Then you are going to sweep the rest of the store, take those and go feed your sister. Come back tomorrow and I’ll pay you ten bucks an hour to dust the store and clean the windows. Cash under the table. You do that and I won’t call the police. Deal?” “You’ve got to be kidding.” Dave had kept his mouth shut up to this point but he couldn’t believe she was letting this punk get away with a robbery attempt. “It’s my store and I believe this boy. Do we have a deal, Luis?” “Yes, ma’am.” “Good.” She turned her sharp emerald gaze on Dave. “Thank you though, young man. Not many people would have intervened. Now please let him up.” He did, reluctantly. He also took possession of the knife, then stayed around to make sure the young felon swept up without causing any further trouble. Well, it wasn’t like he’d never done anything he shouldn’t have as a kid. Especially if it had involved making sure his sister could eat. Dave’s shoulder, already aching from the tourney battle earlier had taken another good hit, so now it hurt like hell. A dozen other aches and pains had set up a steady background hum and Dave couldn’t help wishing the campground had a hot tub.

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The kid nodded glumly, picked up the broom Dave had set aside and got to work. He did a decent job, Dave noticed, though he kept his face down and refused to make eye contact with either of the adults. “I’m Miriam Lazlo.” The store owner held out a frail lined hand, which Dave shook, introducing himself. She had a surprisingly strong grip and her green eyes crinkled as she smiled at him. He returned it. She’d proven to be a game old bird and he was glad he’d been in the right place at the right time to help her out. “Since you appear to be staying for a bit, why don’t you look around the store? Let me know if anything catches your eye. I hear the owner offers discounts to good Samaritans.” Well, he’d meant to find a gift for his sister. Keeping an eye on the kid, Dave wandered along the twisting aisles, then reached down to pick up the book he’d dropped on his way in. As he stooped over, a carved wooden box caught his attention. It was on the bottom shelf of a painted pie safe, nestled amid a pile of old lace doilies and souvenir tea towels from the fifties. Something about the gleam of the burnished wood inlay just called to him, so Dave picked it up. He’d have sworn it radiated warmth into his fingers but he knew that was impossible. It was about six inches long, by maybe four inches high and wide, the size of a small jewelry or cigar box. He blew a layer of dust off the top, awed by the simple beauty of the intertwined flower design. A closer look showed no hinges, no seam where the box opened. He moved closer to the door, where the last of the sunlight trickled through. Still no opening. Not a box at all, then, just a pretty trinket. Still it was unique enough that his sister might get a kick out of it. He walked up to the register just as Luis finished dumping the broken glass into a garbage can and as Miriam handed the kid the money off the counter. “Nine o’clock, sharp, mind you. And you can bring your sister if you need to.” Luis nodded. “Yes ma’am. Nine o’clock sharp.” Dave stood with Miriam and watched the youth’s retreating back as he hurried away down the street. “You really think he’ll be back?” “Oh yes.” Miriam locked the front door with an antique brass key. “Now did you find anything you like?” “How much is this?” He held up the box—paperweight—block—or whatever. “Interesting.” Miriam tapped her chin with her index finger. “Why that?” Dave shrugged. “My sister’s birthday is coming up. She likes unusual things.” Miriam shook her head. “No. That will never do for a birthday gift.” She studied him for a minute with those oddly intent eyes, then selected a colorful Art Deco vase off the shelf behind her. “This for your sister. The box for yourself.” The woman was good. Jenna would adore the swirling gemstone hues of the glass vase. And there was a niggling sense of relief that he wouldn’t have to give up the box. It felt sort of right in his hand. Dave nodded. “How much?”

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Miriam consulted a sticker on the base of the vase and then twitched her lips. “Fifty for the vase. The box is free.” Dave raised one eyebrow in question. The elderly woman shrugged and gave him a little smile. “Consider it a thank-you gift. It’s supposed to be a puzzle box but no one has ever been able to figure out the secret. Keep it for a year. If you haven’t opened it by then, bring it back and exchange it for something else.” Aww, damn, Dave could never resist a puzzle. He turned the box over in his hand, then looked back at the vase. “Fifty, huh?” “It’s a good deal. Signed and dated by the artist in 1928.” What the hell, he could afford it. He reached for his wallet and dug out his credit card while Miriam carefully wrapped and boxed the vase, then placed it in a sturdy paper shopping bag, along with the box. After ringing up the transaction, she handed it over with a smile. “Remember, one year. And good luck, young David. I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.”

***** Anissa felt the change in the atmosphere of her prison, like a vibration in the very fabric of the universe. She nearly jumped up and down with excitement. It was him. She was sure of it. Now all she had to do was to get him to open the box…

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Chapter Two David stared around himself, shaking his head and scratching his beard. He couldn’t believe he’d actually bought a house. Not just a house. A sprawling old three-story farmhouse, on ten acres of land, outside the southern Michigan town of Kilkenny. Did this mean he’d finally grown up? His friends must be rubbing off on him with all their domesticity. He stood in the pile of boxes that was his new kitchen and wondered for about the thousandth time what he was doing. He just knew that when he’d laid eyes on the house, something about it had called to him. “That’s everything.” Mike, one of David’s graduate students set down a final box and dusted off his hands on the seat of his pants. Anything else you need?” Dave shook his head. “Nope. I think we’ve got it under control.” He pulled a couple of folded up twenties out of his pocket and pressed them into the student’s hand. “Thanks, man. Have a good Christmas.” Mike was already halfway out the back door. “You too. And thanks for the gas money.” Dave’s friend Eric stuck his hand out. “Hey, I didn’t know you were paying us for this. Where’s mine?” Dave laughed and slapped his friend’s open hand. “You get the standard rate. Pizza and beer. Kid needed gas money to get home for the break. You live five miles away.” Eric laughed and slid his six-feet-plus body onto a chair. There were only two and they didn’t match each other, or the wobbly laminate table. David was going to have to consider buying furniture pretty soon. “Fair enough. I think that’s what I paid you when you helped move Lori’s stuff into my place last spring.” “Yeah, that and homemade cookies.” Ben Montoya, another friend hopped up onto the kitchen counter to sit. “You make cookies, Dave?” “Bite me.” They all laughed, then Dave reached into the fridge and pulled out three cold longnecks. He handed one to each of the other men, passed around the opener and raised his beer. “To friends.” “Hear, hear.” Eric clinked bottles with Dave and then Ben. “And to new beginnings.” “Amen on that.” Ben tapped the neck of his bottle to Dave’s. “It’s a good place. You need help with the renovations, give me a call. Wes and I can both swing a hammer.” Dave wasn’t surprised. Ben’s live-in lover Wesley Iversen was the kind of woman who could probably do just about anything and do it with flair.

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“Where is Wes today?” Dave plunked down on the sole remaining chair. It wasn’t like her to leave the heavy lifting to the men. “Keeping Lori company.” Eric shook his head and crossed his feet on top of a box. “Otherwise she’d have been here too. Thank God the semester is over and she got her tenure. Now maybe she’ll stay off her damn feet for ten minutes.” “Isn’t she due, like any day now?” Thinking about his friends as parents was still freaking Dave out and he could understand Eric wanting to surround his wife with bubble wrap. If he ever found someone half as cool as Lori, he’d want to protect her too. Not that he really believed there was a woman out there who’d stick around him that long. Happily ever after was for nice, normal guys like Eric, not scruffy former street rats like Dave. “Not ‘til early January, so a few more weeks.” “Too weird.” “Tell me about it.” Eric took a long pull of his English stout. “On the one hand, it’s the coolest thing ever and I can’t wait. On the other, I’m terrified. I’ve never been around kids. I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. All I really know is that nothing will ever be the same.” “You’ll be fine.” Montoya was the steady, sober one of the bunch. The former Special Forces officer had just finished his first semester teaching English at the local community college. “You and Wes ever think about taking the plunge?” Dave tipped his chair back on two legs. He couldn’t help wondering what made people tick. He could take apart a computer and rebuild it with his eyes shut but the human brain was a total mystery to him. Ben snorted out a laugh. “Hell, I can’t even get her to wear a ring. Any discussion of the distant future is a long way off.” “Yeah well, you’re both miles ahead of me.” Dave downed the rest of his stout. It was a decent winter brew but not his favorite. “At least you’ve both found women who’ll put up with you.” “You looking?” Eric tipped his head to the side and peered at Dave through his wire-rimmed glasses. “‘Cause I’m sure Lori or Wes would be happy to fix—” “No!” The front legs of David’s chair hit the floor with a loud clunk. “No fix-ups. I went out with Wes’ sister for a month. That was enough.” Wendy Iversen was a gorgeous redhead and a tiger in the sack but she was way too high-maintenance for Dave’s world. She’d expected him to dress up and get haircuts. No thank you,

***** They’d gone back to Eric’s place so Lori and Wes could share in the pizza, reinforcing Dave’s status as the odd man out. When had that started? He’d always loved being single and had never had any interest in settling down. But by the time

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he’d finally returned to the farmhouse, he couldn’t shake the pall of discontent that had been hovering for the last few months. Even standing in his own driveway looking up at his own house couldn’t quite kick the gloom. It should though. He’d come a long way from the streets of Detroit’s Corktown. Who’d have ever thought that the halfstarved Irish-Italian gangbanger would end up with a Ph.D. and a farmhouse? More importantly, he’d gotten Jenna out. And if he never accomplished anything else in his life, that would be enough. Dave’s sweet, fragile older sister was now securely ensconced in an artist’s colony in New Mexico. He might not be able to see her as often as he liked but they emailed almost every day and he knew she was happy. She was even making enough from her paintings that she wouldn’t let him send her money anymore. Maybe more manual labor would get his brain out of this funk he was in. If he wanted to sleep tonight he was going to have to move boxes off the bed and dig out some sheets. Or at least his sleeping bag. And setting up his computer was a major priority. His DSL wouldn’t be connected until Monday, so he couldn’t go online from the house but he could at least set up his work station and video game console. Blowing up aliens was always a good pick-me-up. He had his MP3 player cranked as he worked, so he didn’t hear his cell phone over the Ramones but he felt it vibrate in his back pocket. He yanked out his earbuds, heard the ringtone programmed for his sister and answered the call. He flopped down in his leather recliner to talk. “Hey, Jenna. What’s up?” “Thought I’d see how you were doing in the new house.” “Surrounded by boxes. But yeah, it feels pretty good to have a place to call my own. No ghosts yet, so doing good so far.” “No, I’m not getting a sense that you’re surrounded by spirits. All the readings I’ve done show that the house is a healthy one for you. I wish I could see it in person though.” He heard the little sigh and mentally echoed it. He missed her too, even though they’d agreed a long time ago that they were both where they needed to be. He was glad, though, that she’d done some Tarot readings about him and the house. There had been a time when he hadn’t believed in her gift but after meeting Drake, all bets were off about the supernatural. He puttered about with the phone to his ear, opening the boxes that held his remote controls and a few DVDs. “You could come up for Yuletide.” He could almost hear her smile—that knowing, sort of wistful smile that meant she knew more than she was telling him. “Not this year. I think you’ll be—busy by then. Besides, Liv and I are going to Mexico with her parents for the holidays.” “That should be fun.” “I hope so. I’ll get to play with her nieces and nephews, which is always fun. I’ll email you pictures of the beach and you can send me some of the snow, when you get it.”

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“I can do that.” In Michigan, you could never tell. Snow could come in October, or not until February. “Love you Jen. Take care.” “Love you too, David. And one more thing…” “What?” He could hear a hint of worry in her voice and he flopped down into his one good leather recliner. “Spill it, Jenna.” “I can’t tell what, but I get a weird feeling that things are about to start happening in your life. Like what I got in April but this time more personal, more intense. Just keep an open mind, okay? And be careful.” “I promise.” Whew. After he’d said goodbye and hung up, he slumped back into his chair and switched on the recliner’s built-in massage function. When the whole dragon thing had erupted last spring, Jen had been frantic, leaving all sorts of warnings on his voice mail. And he’d only been peripherally involved. Maybe he should call his friends and give them a heads-up. Or at least go into the office and email Drake, to see if something was happening to him. But no, Jenna had said this was more personal for Dave. So the message was for him, not for his friends. He’d just have to follow his sister’s instructions, take her words to heart. Be careful and keep an open mind. That sounded like decent advice in pretty much any situation. How hard could it be? He finished unpacking the box into the entertainment center—which along with his desk and the recliner completed his collection of decent furniture, then he stopped at the fridge for one more longneck and headed up the wide wooden staircase to the second floor. The largest bedroom up here had been converted to a master suite sometime recently, so that was where he’d put his bed and two mismatched chests of drawers he’d scavenged from yard sales. Once upstairs, he dug out pillows, flannel sheets and his heavy down comforter from a jumbo garbage bag, which had seemed easier to pack linens in than boxes. More trash bags held clothes and blankets. Jenna had moved all the way to Arizona to forget about all the winter nights they’d huddled under a single crummy blanket with no money to pay the gas bill. Dave stayed in Michigan, refusing to let the memories win but he did splurge on really good, warm bedding. A bag in the bathroom held towels, a box yielded soap and toothpaste and such. It was good to have a bunch of geeks help you pack. Things were more organized now than they’d been in his apartment. He took his first shower in his new home, tossed on a pair of baggy sweats and a long-sleeved t-shirt, then wandered into the walk-in closet and stared at the stack of unpacked boxes. Maybe there was a book in here that would distract him. In the second box down, he smelled the faintest trace of licorice, then his fingers made contact with the wooden puzzle box, the one he’d picked up at the antique shop in Florida. Well, maybe that would occupy his brain for a while. He turned on some music before climbing into bed. It was too damn lonely in the big empty house without any kind of background noise.

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So with Green Day blaring, he sat in bed, leaning against the wall since he still didn’t own a headboard and laid the box in his lap. He took a long pull of the Irish porter and tried to figure out why his silver ring had grown warm again. Finally, he shrugged. Whatever was going on, the gods would reveal it in their own sweet time. He sipped at his ale, then picked up the wooden box. It felt almost too delicate for his beefy fingers but he couldn’t resist the warm, silky feel of the burnished wood. He toyed with it until he was finished with his beer, then returned it to the milk crate that was presently serving as his nightstand, turned off the lamp and pulled the blankets up to his chin.

***** He still hadn’t opened the box! Anissa wanted to scream. She was getting so tired of waiting to be freed. But now he was asleep and that meant she had another chance to reach him. For the first time in weeks he slept close enough to the box for her to reach out into his dreams. By the time she was done with him, she vowed, he’d be so anxious to open the box that he’d barely pause to eat or sleep. She stomped one bare foot on the plush rug carpeting her prison. He was her hero, by the goddess and it was high time he acted like it.

***** It was her, the dark-haired beauty from the tournament last month. The violet-eyed belly dancer he’d wanted so badly but had never been able to find again. But now she was here, hot and soft in David’s bed. He didn’t know how he knew it was her, the lights were off but he’d swear he knew her touch, her scent. Her long curls wrapped around both of them. Dave could feel the ends tickle his butt. Her lush curves filled his hands and Dave squeezed, his grip on her plump cheeks drawing her closer to him, plastering her against his chest. Surprisingly strong arms wound around his neck, pulling his face down to hers and he didn’t resist. What red-blooded male could? He found her lips, touching them gently with his own. He forced himself to go slowly so he wouldn’t scare her away. He didn’t want to lose her—not again. He reveled in each soft stroke of his lips on hers. It was she who deepened the kiss, who opened her lips to nibble on his, who let her hand trail down his spine, pulling his groin even closer to the lush cradle of her hips. He plunged in with his tongue, giving her a foretaste of what he was about to do for real. Goddess, he wanted her. He couldn’t remember when he’d ever been this hard, this hot. He pulled back so he could trail his lips down her chin to taste the soft skin on the side of her neck. She tasted of sugar and cinnamon, with just enough salty sweat to make the mixture headier than a drug and he licked and kissed his way down to the damp valley between her full, round breasts.

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“What’s your name?” His voice was a husky whisper as he paused just long enough to inhale her scent. Spices again and feminine musk. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever smelled and he nuzzled the sides of her breasts, drinking it in. She moaned, twisting to bring her nipple to his mouth. “Anissa.” “Anissa.” It was as lovely as she was, feminine and exotic. He sighed with pleasure and caught her dusky brown nipple between his lips, making her cry out. Her nipple was full and plump and hard as a button. He swirled his tongue around it before pulling it in and pressing it between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. She arched her back, thrusting it deeper. He palmed her other breast and kneaded while he suckled. “Oh yes.” She undulated beneath him and he trailed his hand away from her breast to the thick nest of curls between her legs. He could smell her arousal but he still groaned against her nipple when he felt the thick flood of wetness against his fingers. “Please.” Her whimpered plea was all the encouragement he needed. With one last kiss, he released her breast and covered her body with his. His hand slid through her drenched slit, rubbed at her swollen clit for a second, then positioned his cock at her entrance. With one hard push, he rammed himself home, filling her hot tight pussy with his aching flesh. He couldn’t go slowly but she didn’t seem to mind. Her lips lifted to meet every thrust and she made soft little whimpers each time he pushed against her cervix. Her sharp nails dug into the skin of his back, urging him on. He wasn’t going to last long and he wanted to make damn sure she came with him, so he angled his body enough to get his hand in between them and he fingered her clit, swirling it with her juices, then pressing down hard. That was enough. She convulsed around him, her tight walls gripping his cock like a fist. It was all he needed to send him over the edge and he jerked his hips and shouted, spraying into her with everything he had. His own cry of pleasure woke him up. As his eyes popped open and sleep drifted away, he could swear he heard her voice echoing in his ears. The box. You have to open the box.

***** It had been almost two weeks—twelve nights—since David had managed any reasonable amount of sleep. Every night he dreamed of her again. He’d had dreams about the dancer for the first week or so after the tournament but he’d figured that was just because he hadn’t been with a woman in a while. He had no idea, though, why the dreams had started up again as soon as he’d moved into his new house and continued every night since.

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So here it was, December thirtieth and tomorrow was New Year’s Eve. He’d spent the last two days retiling the kitchen and it looked pretty damned good, if he did say so himself. He debated heading out to the bar, maybe he could find someone to keep him company for tonight and if they really hit it off he could take her with him to Ben and Wesley’s party tomorrow. It was a good plan. Except it sounded about as appealing as a root canal. He popped a Japanese monster movie into the DVD player and settled into his recliner. The movie was a classic, an old favorite, but tonight it wasn’t holding his attention. Nothing seemed to lately. He turned off the flick and switched on his video game console, figuring that if all else failed he’d blow up aliens for a while. Ten minutes later he’d been killed out of the game—a new all-time low for him on a game he’d contributed to writing. He must have dozed off in his chair, because he was still sitting in it when she came to him. When she danced, her hips swayed in the most seductive rhythm he could imagine. She moved from the doorway of the room to stand before his chair. Her arms were held over her head, lifting her breasts like offerings of fresh, ripe fruit. He just watched, his cock hard and throbbing against the fly of his jeans. “You’re so tired, my poor darling.” She bent over and pressed a hot, wet kiss on his lips, her heavy breasts swaying as she leaned forward. Without even thinking, he lifted his hands, filled them with the warm globes that were only slightly hidden by the silk. She moaned as he rubbed his thumbs across her pebbled nipples. She pulled her mouth away from his to murmur. “If you would solve the puzzle, we could do this for real.” He didn’t have an argument for that. His mouth was too busy recapturing her lips and thrusting his tongue beneath them when they opened. He let go of one breast to pull her down, straddling his lap. He knew she never wore anything under the filmy skirts, so when she rubbed against his straining cock, there was only his clothing between them. Even through his jeans and boxers, he could feel the wet heat of her pretty little pussy. Last night she’d let him taste, had gone down on him in return. All he wanted this time, though, was to bury his rock-hard shaft in her hot, tight channel and fuck her until they both passed out from the pleasure… The tinny music from his cell phone jolted him awake. Goddess damn it. He should have figured that Jenna would call. Even though she was in Mexico, she could undoubtedly sense his bleak mood. Jen’s spider-sense was downright scary sometimes. He adjusted his too-tight jeans and told himself he could pick up the dream soon enough. He actually managed to smile as he flipped open his phone. His weirdly psychic sister would probably know somehow if he didn’t. “Hey, Jen. How’s Mexico.” “It was nice but I’ve been back in Arizona for two days now, you big goof. I sent you a present.”

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“Huh?” He’d opened the gifts she’d sent on the solstice, just as she’d opened his. Then they’d talked for an hour, their own private holiday tradition. “Did you have one too many margaritas and forget? By the way, I wore the sweatshirt you sent to Christmas dinner at Eric’s. They loved it.” It was his new favorite, black with white letters that read Think, it’s not illegal yet. “Not Yule present, idiot. Just a present. It should be there in a couple of days.” “Okay.” He wondered what was up but knowing Jenna, he didn’t bother to ask. If she didn’t want to tell him something, a flock of bulldozers wouldn’t be able to drag it out of her. “I keep getting the feeling that there’s something you need to do. Something you need to find. So quit overanalyzing everything and listen to your instincts tonight, all right?” “Sure.” What the hell was going on? “And remember what I told you before. Keep an open mind and be careful.” “O-okay.” “Love you, bro. Gotta go now. Liv invited the neighbors over for dinner.” “Love you Jen. Give Liv a hug for me.” He plopped down in his recliner, the earbuds still hanging limply around his neck. Something he needed to do? The only things he knew he needed to do were to open the damned puzzle box and he needed to find the black-haired belly dancer from his dreams. Was that it? The silver Celtic knot ring from Drake felt warm. Damn, something weird was definitely happening. David shook his head. Today had just been too damn long and he didn’t want to think about anything anymore. He snagged a beer from the selection in the fridge and walked toward the stairs, turning lights out on his way. Good beer was his one indulgence, his one way of admitting to himself that he’d made it in the world. He’d never be a wine connoisseur or a gourmet chef but he could appreciate the difference between an ale and a lambic. Finally, he shrugged. Whatever was going on, the gods would reveal it in their own sweet time. He set the bottle on the milk crate beside the bed and picked up the box. With a silent prayer to every god of fools and lunatics, he gently brushed his thumb over the carved flowers on the lower left-hand corner of the box’s top. He moved his calloused digits over the delicate inlay and paused when he felt a tiny electrical jolt from the ring. He brushed back against a flower in the upper left-hand corner. Yep, there was the tingle. He could almost feel Anissa’s warm sweet breath and hear her sultry voice in his ear cheering him on. With just the tip of his thumb, he exerted pressure on each petal, one at a time. With an almost inaudible click, the third petal depressed. A heartbeat later, the box gave another, slightly louder click and a seam appeared, dividing the box into two uneven halves, following the flow of the pattern rather than a straight line. It resembled a rectangular Easter egg cracking open slowly from the inside. 19

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His hands were big. They almost engulfed the box as he palmed each of the halves gently trying to separate them. He tested a couple of different motions, finally discovering that if he rotated the halves counterclockwise, the tingle returned to his fingertips. That must be it, then. He twisted slowly, not wanting to accidentally break whatever treasure was inside. When he finally felt the mechanism give, he expected the box to come apart in his hands dropping whatever it contained onto the comforter covering his lap. Instead, he heard a loud whoosh, as if someone had just launched a missile in the room. The box was hot. It singed his fingertips until he dropped it to the floor beside the bed. Then he coughed as he inhaled a cloud of lavender-colored, licorice-scented smoke. He closed his eyes against the sting of the wispy tendrils. A second later, he opened them again. The burning sensation and the lavender cloud were gone but the licorice scent remained. And there was a woman kneeling on the comforter at the foot of David’s bed. Her face was down on her knees in a position of full obeisance but the curly black hair that fell all around her to puddle on the comforter was a dead giveaway. Dave knew who he’d see when she lifted her gaze. He tried to speak but couldn’t get the words to leave his throat. He stared in rapt fascination as she spoke without lifting her head. “How may I serve you, oh master?” Her voice was soft and husky—pure distilled sex. Exactly as it had been in his dreams. Dave’s cock throbbed just thinking about the possibilities. Maybe he was still dreaming, because here she was in his bed. Then she looked up and saw him and all the color drained from her lovely face. Her tilted violet eyes widened and her hand covered her mouth as she shrieked. “Who are you and what have you done to my hero?”

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Chapter Three Anissa gazed in horror at the man in the bed. This couldn’t be happening. Not now, not when she’d sensed her rescuer so close for so long. This burly, shaggy, bearded creature lounging idly abed bore no resemblance to the hero of her dreams. But she was bound to him, bound by the geas of the box. She forced out the ritual words. “Your humble servant is here to grant the three wishes of your choosing, oh, master. You may command me with the words, Slave, it is my wish.” “Un-fucking-believable!” Wide blue eyes stared back at Anissa from under the bushy red-brown brows. Well, he wasn’t particularly articulate but the eyes weren’t half bad. She could almost see the clockwork mechanism turning in his head as he tried to comprehend his good fortune. She knew that magic had become increasingly rare in the world during the time of her captivity. Doubtless, he was in shock. “Anissa?” His voice was a deep bass rumble that sent a sensual tingle running down her spine. It almost sounded like the voice of her hero in the visions she’d been having so frequently of late. In other circumstances, she might not mind his ownership so much but she had to hurry him through his wishes so that her hero could take possession of the box. Then she realized he’d spoken her name. Not her real name, the name she gave her masters but the one only one person on Earth could possibly know. “You know me?” He shook his head, his shoulder-length russet curls tumbling. With his overlong hair and unkempt beard, he reminded her of the fierce Scots clansmen she’d once met, except that there was no odor of filth clinging to him. She knelt only a few feet away and could smell naught but clean, healthy male. “Then how do you know my name?” That had never happened before. Perhaps he was a mage after all. A small tendril of hope twined around her heart. He opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again like a fish. Clearly, there was something he didn’t want to tell her. He reached to a funny red table beside the bed and picked up a brown glass bottle, then took a long drink. Aha—she smelled yeast and hops. Apparently beer was still in favor in whatever place and year she’d found herself in this time. “Are you a mage?” She wished he would speak. He sputtered, clapping a hand over his mouth to avoid spitting his drink at her. Well, perhaps the savage had some manners, after all. She managed what she hoped was an encouraging smile but he shook his head. “No. Definitely not a mage.” Yes, the

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voice was as deep and husky as before and she felt herself moisten with desire. Her dream hero had primed her well, she’d felt desire in those visions the likes of which she’d never known in the flesh. “A warrior then?” She heard her own voice deepen. He tipped his head side to side. “Been there, done that, but not in a while. And what exactly are you, Anissa? A genie? Or is it Djinn?” “Djinni, if you please. Djinn is plural. I am a captive of the box, bound to grant wishes to those who solve the secret.” “Three wishes, just like in the stories?” She nodded, softening a bit toward the brute. He might be a bit rough around the edges but he seemed to be smart and unlike her last owner, he hadn’t run screaming from the room. She respected courage. Perhaps he would bed her before making his wishes. She would not object. She knew her nipples were peaked beneath the thin silk of her clothing and hoped he noticed. “This will require some thought. Is there a time limit on the wishes?” She bowed her head. “No, master.” No limit, only her own impatience to find the champion of her dreams. And now, perhaps, for a few moments of carnal pleasure. “Are you required to call me that?” She looked up to see a frown on his face and she shook her head. “No, master.” Only in the initial speech were the words prescribed. After that, it was up to the master. “Then please don’t.” “As you wish.” Then what was she supposed to call him? There was no armor, or coat of arms to reveal his identity and the furnishings were plain and poor, so he probably wasn’t a lord. “My name is David,” he replied. “Doctor David Allan Garvaglia, or Professor Garvaglia to my students. You can call me Dave.” He enunciated his last name slowly, like he always did when introducing himself. Gar-VAHL-ya. It didn’t seem that difficult to him, but hardly anybody ever got it right the first time. “David.” It was a nice, solid name. “You are a physician?” “No. A—scholar, I suppose, you’d call it. I teach at a university.” He sipped his ale, then seemed to realize what he did and set it aside. “Are you thirsty? Can I get you something? Do you even drink, or eat?” “I do, when I am free of the box. A drink would be welcome.” She had no idea how long it had been since she’d tasted anything and her mouth began to water at the thought. Perhaps she could take time for that before she let him bed her. He flung the covers aside and Anissa averted her eyes, before she realized that he was fully clothed. Not in a nightshirt, as her last master had worn but in a pair of soft, loose trews—trousers, she remembered—and a baggy tunic of the same faded gray material, with words emblazoned on the front. When he stood, she saw that heavy 22

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stockings covered his big feet. She shivered, becoming aware of the scantiness of her dancer’s costume, the filmy bandeau top and wispy skirt that were part of the geas. “Are you cold?” He reached out a hand and assisted her to stand beside the bed. His hands were powerful and large, she savored the brief touch. A soft fluffy rug cushioned her bare toes and the bells around her hem and ankle jingled while she moved. She nodded, suddenly shy. Few of her masters had thought of her comfort and none so quickly. “A little.” “Wait here.” He bounded over to a chipped, painted chest and pulled open a drawer. Anissa took a moment to look around the room. It was fairly large, with a big square bed, two mismatched chests and a large shelf facing the bed. The shelf told her that she’d been in the box a long time, because she recognized none of the black metal boxes with glowing red and green lights, dials and numbers. Music came from the cloth-covered smaller boxes atop the corners of the shelf but such music as she’d never heard before, loud, raucous and cacophonous. “Here.” A bundle of fabric was thrust into her hands. “It will all be huge on you but it should keep you warm.” He pressed a button on one of the boxes and the noise stopped immediately. Perhaps it was a descendant of the radio—she remembered those. She looked at her hands to discover she held a tunic much like the one David was wearing and a similar pair of thick, wooly stockings. Hideous but the material was as soft as it looked and heavy enough to be warm. How funny that he wished to cover her up, when he was one of the first masters she would have willingly stripped naked for. But she was intrigued enough to follow his lead. She sat on the edge of the bed to pull on the stockings. He had not been jesting. The heels came halfway up her calves but her toes curled gratefully into the soft, fluffy warmth. The tunic was black with red letters emblazoned on the front and when she stood, it reached mid-thigh. It bore a faint trace of male scent under the fragrance of soap and she snuggled into its warmth for a second, before rolling up the sleeves to expose her hands. “Thank you.” She stood to follow as he held open the door to a hallway, then she glanced down at her tunic. “What is a smu? I am unfamiliar with the word.” His laugh was warm and sounded genuine. He flicked a switch with his finger and light flooded the hallway. Ah, electricity. She recognized that from her last— assignment. They’d obviously improved the process since then. These were much brighter and cleaner-looking than she remembered. “SMU. It stands for Southern Michigan University, the college where I teach.” Ah. A university. She remembered a master in Edinburgh who had been a scholar at the university there. It had been many years, though, so things had probably changed. And Michigan was in America, she was sure of that. She hadn’t come too far geographically this time. Her last master had been in Chicago.

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A lovely wooden staircase led down into another large room, the parlor, perhaps. The furniture here was of a style she didn’t recognize but the stuffed navy blue seating area looked new and comfortable as did a brown leather easy chair. A pair of mismatched swords hung on one wall and a large, surprisingly lovely, painting of a dragon was centered above the fireplace. Another shelf held more of the large strange boxes, including one fronted with an enormous glass panel. “Kitchen’s through here.” Her master led her through an archway. She recognized stove and sink and the large metal icebox. There were other strange devices, some new, some old. A rickety looking table with a patterned top sat in the middle of the room, flanked by two chairs, one metal, one wood. David pulled out the wooden chair and gestured for her to sit. He moved over to the icebox and opened the larger of the two doors. “I’ve got orange juice, Mountain Dew, water and beer. For beer, there’s an Irish porter, some India Pale Ale and a winter wheat lager. What would you like?” Most of the words were unfamiliar to Anissa. Orange juice she recognized, but the beer had smelled so good. “A beer, please. Any kind.” He studied her for a moment, then pulled two bottles out of the icebox. Cold air wafted from the doorway and there was an electric light inside the cabinet. She blinked when he closed the door and used a small metal tool to remove the tops from the bottles, before handing her one. He sat across from her in the other chair and held up his beer. “Cheers.” She allowed him to tap the necks of their bottles together and repeated the toast. “Cheers.” The pale ale, as the printed label called it, was cold and smooth and Anissa had to force herself to drink slowly, to sip instead of guzzling the flavorful liquid. She’d never had much of a head for strong drink but after years, even decades of deprivation, her senses relished the tastes and textures of freedom. “Hungry?” She started to shake her head but at the very thought, her stomach growled in a most unladylike fashion. She felt her face flame and peered down at her hands to hide the blush. “I am sorry.” “Don’t be. Being hungry is nothing to be ashamed of. How long since you last ate?” He’d stood again, was rummaging through the icebox before she could even answer. “I don’t know. What year is it?” “Two thousand seven.” He looked back over his shoulder. “Do you like roast beef?” “Very much.” She performed the calculations in her head. “Eighty-three years.” “What?” He straightened so fast he banged his head on the icebox and Anissa waited for the explosion. Men always managed to blame a woman when they erred. But

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he just shook his head and laid a clear packet of beef on the table. “Eighty-three years? Damn. We’re gonna need more food.” He turned back to the icebox. “In the box, I do not require food or water,” she explained. “Only when I am out. And it has been a long time since anyone solved the puzzle.” “I guess so.” He piled more foodstuffs on the table in front of her. “Good thing I had the guys over for poker yesterday. If you had to rely on my normal cooking, you wouldn’t be eating nearly this well. How hungry are you?” “Very,” she admitted in a tiny voice. He transferred the entire packet of beef to a plate, then pulled open a glass-paneled box. The plate went in, then he punched a couple of numbered buttons and the box began to hum. While that continued, he pulled a block of yellow cheese out of the icebox and a large covered bowl. The humming stopped, the box chirped and David removed the plate of now steaming beef. When he laid it on the table, Anissa held her hand a few inches above the meat, felt the hot steam curl around her fingers. “‘Tis hot.” She tipped her head to study her host, who now placed the bowl in the box. “You lied to me. You are a mage.” He laughed, a warm, sensual sound and restarted the device. “No. This is a microwave oven, a triumph of science, not magic. It’s powered by electricity, the same as the lights.” “But it heats so quickly.” “Yep. You like chili?” The beef, bean and tomato stew was unfamiliar but Anissa was hungry enough to try anything. The spices in it smelled strong but the blend was wonderful. Within minutes, everything had been warmed and a veritable feast was spread out on the table between them. David brought two plates and two bowls to the table and she watched him check them before handing her the less chipped of each pair. “Dig in.” So much for tomorrow’s lunch. David watched her inhale the leftovers he’d warmed up, amazed by the amount of food such a small person could pack away. She wasn’t skinny, her curves were too lushly feminine for that but he could still probably pick her up with one hand. Right now she was plowing through her third roast beef sandwich, each motion of her hand and wrist swift and graceful. He remembered his dreams of those hands and almost moaned out loud as his cock leapt to attention. He’d gotten a Djinni for Christmas. Hot damn. Hell of a way to ring out the year. He wondered if her hard nipples up in his room had been from more than just the cold. He could only begin to imagine the many ways he wanted to fuck her. Starting with here on the kitchen table. But not until she’d finished eating. He took a swig of his beer while she sipped at hers daintily. “There’s pumpkin pie, if you’re still hungry.”

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“Pie?” She looked so hopeful, like a kid in a candy shop, that Dave couldn’t help smiling. “Pie,” he confirmed. “Sara Lee’s finest.” He returned to the fridge, then came back with a half a pie and a can of spray whipped cream. “How much?” “Just a little.” Her lashes fluttered down. “Half of that, perhaps? Is Sara Lee your cook? You must thank her for me. The food was delicious.” He laughed, cut it into two equal pieces and slid one quarter of the pie onto her plate. He could see he’d have to go grocery shopping tomorrow. “Sara Lee is a corporation that sells frozen, ready-made deserts. All I did was take it out of the freezer and toss it in the oven for half an hour. Whipped cream?” She gave the can a funny look, so he demonstrated, spraying a big mound onto his own serving, which he’d left in the foil pan. She nodded, so he handed her the can and tried not to laugh while she attempted to figure it out. When she shot herself in the face with a dollop, he lost the battle and laughed out loud. “Would you like some help?” He couldn’t resist the urge to reach over and wipe the blob of cream off her nose with a finger. He caught his breath stunned by the electrical jolt he felt from that minimal touch. She didn’t jump but those pale purple eyes widened and caught his. He pulled his finger back and licked the cream away, feeling the tingle all the way to his crotch. Her tiny pointed tongue flicked out and licked a drop of cream off her lip, her breath hitching at almost the same moment as his. Goddess, now he had to add that to his list—licking the sweet cream off every square inch of her dusky skin. Endless seconds went by as they stared at each other, frozen. Then she gave a forced little giggle and handed him the can. “Yes, please.” He took the can but it was a moment before he remembered what he was supposed to do with it. They finished their meal in silence, except for the hungry little moans of pleasure she occasionally made as she savored the pie. Dave couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to have her make those sounds while he was thrusting inside her.

***** “Have you chosen your wishes?” She sat and watched as he loaded their used dishes into yet another machine. A dishwasher, he had called it. At least that name was fairly self-explanatory. David shook his shaggy head. “No. I’ve read one too many books where the moral of the story is be careful what you wish for. This is going to require some thought.” She nodded. He was a scholar, of course he would want to think things through, although she still thought he looked more like a barbarian warrior. At least he had fed and clothed her while he pondered. That was more than most of her masters had done. Now that she had eaten a feast and drunk two bottles of ale, though, another need was

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making itself known, another thing that she forgot about in the stasis of the box. She tried not to squirm. “Are you all right?” He was perceptive too. If only he could have been her hero. Shaven and trimmed, he would probably even be attractive, if not precisely handsome. But he was neither mage nor warrior, so she could not ask him to take the risk. “I am fine.” She wiggled in her chair. “But, if I could… That is… Is there a privy in the house?” She tried to remember the word from her time in Chicago. “A lavatory?” He thumped his forehead with his hand. “Duh. Bathroom. I’m sorry, Anissa, I wasn’t thinking.” He pointed to a wooden door off the kitchen. “Right through there. It’s kind of small but at least it’s clean.” She nodded her thanks and fled. When she returned, the dishes were gone and the dishwasher was gurgling and humming. The professor leaned against the cupboard, his keen blue eyes watching her as she emerged from the water closet. “Do you go back into the box to sleep?” She shook her head. “No. I only return to my prison after all three wishes have been granted.” “I was afraid of that.” He gave her a crooked smile. “I don’t have any furniture in the guestroom yet, so you can have the bed. I’ll sleep down here on the couch.” She had assumed that she would be sleeping with him—or perhaps not sleeping, at least for the next several hours. A number of male masters—married or otherwise—had chosen her body as one of their wishes, some had just commanded it while they decided. She usually hated it, but with this master, she would not have minded. He had certainly looked as though he were interested in her. His gaze was intent, his features fiercely set, though his baggy trews hid any clear physical evidence. If he didn’t have a wife, why didn’t he take her? Perhaps he was wed and his wife was merely away. “Are you married?” His snort of laughter was answer enough but he also shook his head. “Look around. You see any signs of a feminine touch?” “No.” “Very good. No wife. No kids. I don’t even have a dog.” He opened a closet and pulled out a large sack sewn of some material so shiny she could see no fibers. It was twisted shut with a paper-covered wire and David opened it, then removed a pillow and a puffy sort of blanket, folded in half and fastened that way with a row of interlocking metal teeth. “It’s a sleeping bag. I use it when I go camping.” He tossed it onto the big settee sort of thing, which was three sides of a rectangle, with the open side facing the shelf full of boxes. “I’d change the sheets on the bed for you but I don’t have any others. I washed them yesterday, though, so they should be fairly clean.” He seemed to be bothered by what he felt was a breach of hospitality and she shook her head, reaching out to touch him on the shoulder. “I do not think you understand. I

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am only a slave. While it is nice to eat and drink, I cannot starve or die of thirst. You need not worry about my comfort. I am yours to command until your wishes are complete. You could command me to share your bed.” “They outlawed slavery in this country about a hundred and fifty years ago.” “Magic answers to a different set of laws.” “Yeah, I know that much.” That set her back. His flat delivery made her wonder just what he knew about magic and what had happened to make him such a believer. Had so much changed in the past eighty years? “Slave or not, Djinni or not, right now you’re a guest in my home. And though I have roughly a million and a half questions for you, at the moment I’m too tired to think straight, not to mention that I’ve had most of a six-pack tonight. So we’re going to call it a night and in the morning, we’ll eat breakfast and then we’ll figure things out. That sound reasonable to you?” It sounded more reasonable than anything she’d heard in several centuries, though it was still a rejection of a sort. In fact, the gruff solicitousness in his tone was causing tears to prickle behind her eyelids. She blinked hard and nodded. “There are fresh towels in the bathroom upstairs if you want to take a shower. There might even be a spare toothbrush.” Then he paused. “Your last experience with any of this was in the nineteen twenties, right?” She nodded. “So half the stuff I’m telling you means absolutely nothing, does it?” She shook her head. “Come on.” He took her hand and tugged her with him toward the stairs. “You can sleep in the sweatshirt you’re wearing. I’ll find you a clean one in the morning. Will you be warm enough in that?” Under that decadent down quilt of his? She would roast like a Christmas goose. But she simply nodded. “This will be fine. Thank you.” “Toothbrushes were around in the twenties, weren’t they?” “I am familiar with the concept.” She tried and failed to keep the note of laughter out of her voice but he did not appear to be offended. He led her through his bedroom into an attached bathing area that was larger than many bedrooms she had seen. “Shower is there.” He gestured at a glass-walled enclosure. “Help yourself to the soap, shampoo, whatever. I’m afraid I don’t have much in the way of girly stuff.” There was an enormous tub, with little nozzles in the side, along with the usual lavatory appointments. He opened a built-in cupboard. “Towels and washcloths in here, use what you want. He held out a small orange brush, sealed in a clear crinkly material. “Aha. Toothbrush. Brand new, from my last trip to the dentist. Toothpaste is right there.” He pointed at a long tube sitting next to the sink. “Need anything else?”

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“No.” She fingered the brush, fascinated with the crinkly wrapping. Cellophane, maybe? It was a material with which she unfamiliar. “You’ve never seen plastic, have you?” His voice was soft and comforting, not derogatory. “Plastic?” He tapped the packet in her hand. “This stuff. Almost everything is made of plastic these days, in one form or another. The toothbrush, the wrapping, hell even the bathtub.” She turned to run a hand over the smooth surface she had assumed was marble. But where marble would have been cool to the touch, this surface was as warm as the air. “How odd.” He gave a short bark of laughter. “Very. Look, I’ll be downstairs if you need anything. Get some sleep.” She was not sleepy at all. Time was different in the box and though she slept sometimes, she had no real sense of day and night. She knew from experience that it would take her a couple days in this time to adapt to the daily rhythms. If she was here that long. What she truly wanted was for him to take her to his bed and satisfy the unfamiliar yearning he seemed to arouse in her heavy breasts and aching loins. But he was being so sweet and kind, she did not have the heart to tell him and she had just enough pride left not to beg. “I will. Thank you.” “The pipes are old. It takes a few minutes to get hot water up to the second floor. So let the water run for a bit before you adjust the temperature. Don’t want to burn yourself, or step into a freezing cold shower.” Now she knew he was as reluctant to leave her as she was for him to leave. His rapid breathing told her that he could possibly be aroused, yet he did not act on his desire. Could he actually be restraining himself out of courtesy to her? If so, she was not going to argue—not now. He had said he was tired. Tomorrow would be soon enough to change his mind. She touched his chest with her hand and gave him a little push. “I may not know about this plastic but I believe I can manage a bathtub. Thank you. I will be fine.” “You’re sure?” He looked down at her with those soulful blue eyes. “I could…” She stopped him by laying a finger over his lips. His beard and mustache were wiry and tickled her finger but the sensation was not unpleasant. And she had to reach up to do it. He was not terribly tall but she was short and the top of her head only came to his chin. “Sleep. I will be fine.” His lips briefly kissed the finger she had laid across them. The sensation made her knees flutter and her internal muscles clench. She could smell her own wetness, knew if he even hinted at taking her, she would fly to the waiting bed. He grunted and she knew he felt the power that pulsed between them as well. But he remained the gentleman. “Okay, then. You’ll yell if you need anything. Right?”

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“Right, Professor David. And thank you. You have been very kind.” He shook his head. “Kindness is not one of my attributes.” He pulled away from her then and walked to the door. “Goodnight, Anissa.” “Goodnight.” She stood still, staring, even after he had closed the door behind him and she heard his footsteps on the stairs. What an unusual man, this new master of hers. She leaned her head against the cool tile of the wall and willed her body to stop throbbing with this uncomfortable desire. She did not want to like him. One thing her centuries of servitude had taught her was that even the kindest of people turned selfish once they realized the magnitude of what Anissa had to offer. Extended life, limitless wealth, almost anything the mind could conceive of was within the power of the Djinni’s box. Most of them had been selfish in bed, as well. She had learned to take some pleasure from coupling with a few of her masters but she had never felt desire for its own sake before meeting this one. What kind of magic was afoot, to make her body turn traitor and hunger for the touch of a master? She looked around the luxurious bathroom, trying to reconcile it with the Spartan furnishings she had seen in the bedroom and kitchen. Did this new master need money or did he not? He had not hesitated to share so much food. His home and person were scrupulously clean but his hair had not seen scissors nor his beard a razor in months. He was obviously attracted to her but he was camping on his parlor sofa so she could have his bed. Nothing about the man made sense. She studied the shining silver taps of the tub. Very simple. H for hot water, C for cold. She remembered the professor’s instructions and let the hot water tap run while she selected a towel and found a bar of soap in the shower area. Then she paused to study that arrangement. A cascading bath system. How ingenious. But it would never replace the luxury of a good hot soak. There was a bottle in the shower as well and she read the label. Apparently shampoo was a special liquid soap for the hair. The bright green substance smelled of fresh herbs and grasses, so Anissa added a few drops to the running water in the bathtub and was delighted when a cloud of freshly scented bubbles arose. She shed her garments and slipped into the deliciously hot water, deciding that she liked the twentyfirst century so far. When she discovered the pulsing jets of water that massaged her back and legs, she liked it even more. Finally, she spread her legs and angled her body so that the force of the water reached the aching cleft between her thighs. Oh yes. Her fingers found the small hooded nub of flesh at the top of her slit and rubbed, the slickness of her own juices coating her fingers, even in the water. She imagined her new master David, imagined it was his thick staff that caressed her as it had in her visions. Or perhaps his tongue, stroking her points of pleasure. It took mere moments before her womb tightened and convulsed with waves of rapture and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. A single tear escaped her eye as she dropped her hand

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back into the bath at her side. She had nearly screamed out his name. Even now, after bringing herself to completion, her body clamored with emptiness, a longing to be filled by him and him alone. Nothing had ever been like this before, not in eight hundred years. Whatever was a Djinni to do? Dave lay in his sleeping bag on the foldout bed that was part of his sectional sofa and listened as the water ran and then stopped. There was a sharp squeal followed by a giggle when the whirlpool jets turned on. Apparently the little Djinni really was capable of managing a bathtub. Picturing her there wet and naked was flat-out painful. He had seen every inch of her in his dreams and he couldn’t help wanting to see how the real Anissa measured up. She was every bit as beautiful in the flesh, way out of the league of a geek like him, but goddess, how was he supposed to resist her when she was here in his house and she didn’t seem interested in resisting him? Part of him still wanted to believe he was dreaming. No way in hell could he have opened a box and had a magical being pop out. Let alone a magical being he’d been dreaming about on and off since August. He’d probably had too many beers and was in the middle of an alcohol-induced dream. But if this was another dream, why was he on the couch? For the last week, his dreams of Anissa had been progressively more erotic, to the point where most days he’d had to wash his sheets after he woke up. He’d had more wet dreams in the last week than he’d had since he was seventeen. And yet here he sat, as hard as a rock and with his balls aching like he’d been smacked with a practice sword. If this was a dream, he really didn’t like this new twist. A year ago, he would have flat-out refused to believe any of this. Back then, he didn’t even truly believe in Jenna’s visions, though he’d always tried to humor her. After meeting Drake last spring though, all bets were off when it came to the supernatural. Something about making friends with a fire-breathing, centuries-old dragon had sort of changed his views. And if dragons were real, why not a Djinni? His brain was whirling around in circles. He knew he wasn’t going to make any sense of it tonight. Once upon a time he’d have called Eric, even though it was midnight and dragged his butt over here to help sort it out. Now Eric was probably sound asleep next to his very pregnant wife and no way was Dave going to disturb them for anything short of a life-threatening emergency. He could call Jenna, he supposed but he didn’t want to worry her, either. No, he’d sort it out himself. In the morning. Meanwhile he had to do something if he had any hope of getting to sleep. And climbing up the stairs to fuck Anissa senseless wasn’t going to be it, so it was time to resort to plan B. He crawled out of the sleeping bag and padded as quietly as possible into the bathroom off the kitchen. He dropped his sweatpants, closed the toilet lid and sat down and left the light off, so that only the dim glow from the living room lamp filtered in.

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Then he leaned back and closed his eyes, allowing images of Anissa to fill his mind. Her soft, dark skin. Her sweet, licorice-and-woman scent and the incredible things she’d done with her hands and mouth and pussy in his dreams. He squirted some lotion on one hand, then reached down and wrapped it around his cock, which was so sensitized he nearly moaned out loud, just from his own touch. He fisted himself tightly and pumped up and down, using the other hand to brace himself against the wall of the tiny room. It didn’t take long at all. Just the memory of her tight, wet passage squeezing him as she knelt above him, dream or no dream, was real enough to send him over the edge faster than he’d expected. He barely had time to grab a couple of tissues with his free hand and wrap them around his tip before he came, shooting long and hard into the soft paper, wishing like crazy it was into Anissa’s willing pussy.

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Chapter Four It had been a very long night. Dave didn’t know why he’d even bothered to try to sleep. He’d gone over and over everything Anissa had said and everything he thought he knew about the Djinn. Only four facts were clear in his brain. She was real. She was here in his house. She wasn’t here by choice. And he didn’t get to fuck her. She’d called herself a captive of the box. She’d even said straight-out that she was a slave. Whenever somebody solved the puzzle box, Anissa was released, forced to grant three wishes to the lucky winner and then she vanished back into the box until somebody else solved the puzzle. Sounded like a hell of a deal for the wisher, not so great for the Djinni. So what was he supposed to do? Hold off on his wishes, so she could stay here indefinitely? She’d said there was no time limit. Or did she prefer it to go quickly? Would it be kinder to make his wishes and then let her go? She’d been too cryptic for him to be sure. One thing he knew was she liked to eat. David wasn’t much of a chef but he could handle breakfast. French toast had been one way to stretch a dozen eggs and a loaf of stale bread when he and Jenna were growing up and protein had been a luxury. There were no sounds from upstairs yet, so he washed up in the tiny bathroom off the kitchen and got to work.

***** Anissa woke to the sound of a gentle tapping on the bedroom door. It took her a few moments to remember where she was. All she noticed at first was that she was in a firm, comfortable bed, buried under the biggest, fluffiest quilt she’d ever felt. “Anissa?” The deep voice of her current master called. “You all right in there?” “I am fine.” She dragged her head out from under the mound of bedding to find him leaning in the open doorway. “Is it morning?” Had he come to make use of her body? She could only hope so. “It is.” There was a warm chuckle. “I made breakfast, if you’re hungry.” More food. Maybe she could get him to delay his wishes just so he could keep feeding her. Well, that and the sex she was sure he would get to eventually. What did she care if her next master found her as big as a house? Then she remembered her vision. Her champion was waiting, the one who would have the power to break the spell. So she could not afford to dally over roast beef sandwiches or a magical bathtub.

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But he had said they would talk over breakfast. Since she was here, she might as well enjoy it. She swung her legs out from under the covers and wiggled her toes inside the heavy wooly socks. His warm tunic left her legs bare and she tugged the sheet back over them as his eyes widened and an approving smile ghosted across his craggy face. She saw his eyes flicker over to the dresser where she’d left her thin silk skirt and bandeau top. “I should find you some pants.” He rummaged through another drawer and came up with a pair of the same sort of baggy trews that he still wore but which had been haphazardly hacked off partway down the leg. He tossed them to the foot of the bed. “They’re big enough to go around you twice but there’s a drawstring at the waist, so they won’t fall off. I’ll go get breakfast on the table while you get dressed. Okay?” She did not know the word but she understood the gist of it. “Okay,” she repeated with a nod. He closed the door behind him and she heard the thump of his stocking feet as he galloped down the steps. She followed soon after, clad in the soft cotton knit tunic and trousers, which hung just past her knees. Gods, she hoped this was not the current fashion, because she did not believe she would be able to stand it. Though she had to admit, anything was better than the petticoats and corsets of the Victorian era. Just remembering those made her ribs ache. Fabulous smells wafted from the kitchen, so Anissa followed her nose to find the wobbly table once again laden with food. Crispy slices of bacon were piled on a platter alongside a towering stack of French toast and a glass bottle of maple syrup was still giving off heat. “Orange juice, coffee, or both?” David asked over his shoulder from the stove, where he was flipping even more pieces of French toast. The coffee smelled marvelous. She had grown accustomed to the American beverage during her last few assignments but fresh orange juice was a rare treat. “Both, please.” He poured a mug of coffee from a glass carafe that had been set in another of the ubiquitous machines. The orange juice came from the icebox in a paper carton but it was fresh and crisp and cold. Oh yes, she could very definitely get used to this century. When the professor-who-looked-like-a-warrior sat down with the rest of the food, he piled several slices of toast onto her plate before filling his own. “Did you sleep all right?” She nodded, even though she had spent much of the night awake, longing for him and a wee bit frightened by her unfamiliar yearnings. “Yes, thank you. Have you chosen your wishes yet?” He poured syrup onto his food, then took a bite, chewing slowly. “Are there rules about the wishes? Limits, or any other caveats I should know about?” “There are limits.” She cut a tiny bit of the toast and dipped it into a puddle of syrup before tasting it. Then she closed her eyes to savor the rich sweetness. 34

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“Are you going to tell me about them, or do I have to guess?” He was smart. “No, you just have to ask.” “I see.” He nodded and grinned. “Don’t ask, don’t tell. You can only give out information if I directly request it.” “Very clever.” She nodded and smiled. “Could you please pass the bacon?” He did, smiling back as she helped herself to several crispy slices. Perhaps he liked his women chubby. She believed she could adapt to that. “So what are the limits of my wishes?” He had waited until she had a mouthful of food, so she rolled her eyes at him and finished chewing before she spoke. “One moment. First, I cannot alter people’s thoughts.” She held up one finger. “I simply do not have the power to meddle with the human mind.” “Understandable.” He scratched his beard idly. “So you couldn’t, for example, make someone fall in love with me, or have a millionaire suddenly decide to leave me all his money.” “Correct.” She was not sure why but the idea of having some hapless female fall in love with him was decidedly irritating. “Got it. Keep going. What are the other limits?” “I cannot fundamentally alter nature, or the state of the universe. I cannot make it summer in January in London or turn the Sahara into a jungle. And the only human I can alter directly is you.” She could make him taller, slimmer, richer, or extend his life. She wondered if he would choose any of those. “Reasonable. What else?” “I cannot kill anyone for you and will not steal or maim.” “You said will not, as opposed to cannot. Is there a difference?” She felt her face warm with a flush. No one had ever picked up that tiny discrimination before. “Not from your point of view.” It was the one line she had drawn. Refusal to follow her geas meant death for a Djinni but she would happily accept that before she would use the power of the box to harm an innocent. “So basically, everything else is fair game.” There was an odd, speculative gleam in those blue eyes that she did not entirely trust. “Yes.” “Are you truly a slave of the box?” “Yes.” “Does that go with being a Djinni, or is it just something that happened to you?” Stars, she should have known a scholar would bypass curious and go straight to just plain nosy. But part of her curse was that she had to answer her master’s direct questions with at least a fragment of the truth. “It is a common punishment for Djinn.” “So you’re being punished?” 35

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How to answer that one? “In a sense.” “For what?” The speculation in his expression had hardened into dogged intensity. “I—declined the advances of a sorcerer. He thought that trapping me within the box would cause me to reconsider. I chose to remain in the box instead.” “So the sorcerer could have reversed the spell and set you free?” She nodded miserably. “Is he the only one?” She shook her head. “No.” He laid down his fork and reached across the table to clasp her hand. She clung to it, savoring his warmth and strength. It had been so long since she’d had any human contact. “Can any master wish you free?” Could it be? He looked nothing like the hero she had imagined but he was smart and strong and he was asking all the right questions. Perhaps that was the signal she was overlooking in this wild attraction that burned between them. She squeezed his hand and tried to speak. All that emerged from her throat was a whisper. “Yes.” “Please tell me how to set you free.” She shook her head and pulled her hand away. “It is not so simple. The process—it takes more than one wish. In truth, it requires all three, leaving none for you. And he will sense it, will come to stop you. It is far too dangerous.” “Who’s he?” “Murdoch of the Moorlands. The wizard who ensorcelled me.” “No offense but wouldn’t he be a little old by now? How long have you been in the box, anyway?” He continued to eat, plowing through his food without his eyes ever leaving her face. “His first wish was for a long life. He ages only one year for every century that he lives.” “Ouch, you can do that?” She nodded. Now he would see how foolish it would be to sacrifice all his wishes for her. “That’s pretty powerful magic. And when did you say this happened?” “I—I never knew the exact year. Calendars were for lords and priests, not peasants. It was during the reign of Richard, called Lionhearted, in England.” Dave felt the blood drain from his face. His fork clanged against his plate when he dropped it. Richard the fucking first? That was roughly eight hundred years ago. Talk about an older woman. Trying to appear calm, he picked up his fork and peered at the beauty across from him. “So you don’t age.”

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“Not while I am inside the box. I do during the time I spend in the mortal realm outside it.” “Then you must not get out much.” She looked to be in her mid-twenties, scarcely older than most of his students. “I was fourteen when I was first ensorcelled and bound to the box. All told since then I have probably spent close to twenty years outside.” “Fourteen?” Dave had to fight to remain seated. He ground his next words out from between clenched teeth. “And this wizard put you in the box because you wouldn’t have sex with him?” Maybe he could wish the bastard here, just so he could beat the shit out of him. She stared down at her food, her tumbled black curls hiding her face. “Yes. At the time, a female of that age was considered mature.” “And you’re still afraid of him, aren’t you?” His fingers curled into fists. She tipped her head, just a fraction of an inch, still not looking up to meet his gaze. “How does he find you?” Her shoulders lifted in a tiny shrug. “Magic.” “More details, please.” It was hard to be polite when he wanted to smash something but he didn’t want to scare her any further. She sighed, then tilted her face up. Her lips were drawn thin and white and a small furrow had appeared between her eyebrows, aggravating Dave’s rage. “His second wish. He can tell whenever I am free of the box. If I remain free for more than a few days, he finds me. Which is why you should make your wishes quickly. He is—not a pleasant person.” “What was his third wish, Anissa?” If the bastard had raped her, then he was going to die. Dave felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach. The one group of people on Earth he flat-out hated were men who preyed on little girls. He remembered all too well the shattered look on his sister’s twelve-year-old face as ten-year-old David had held her in his arms and tried to stop the bleeding. “For riches. Murdoch wanted me to kill a powerful lord and install himself in the lord’s place, but he worded the wish too vaguely. Instead, I led him to a trove of Saracen gold.” The knot in his stomach loosened, just a little. Maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t have to kill the sorcerer, just neutralize him somehow instead. “And if I were to use my wishes to set you free, what could he do to you then?” “If the box is not destroyed, he could trap me back inside. The Djinn are subject to summoning and he knows my true name. He might also become angry enough to kill us both.” Dave snorted. “He can try. So how do we destroy the box?” “I do not know.”

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David continued to ponder as they finished their meal and he cleaned up the dishes. A glance at the clock told him it was after ten. Time to get moving. “Well, we can think about that for a few hours. Tonight is New Year’s Eve and I have a party to go to. You’re gonna need something to wear.” She smiled and the brightness of it damn near lit up the room. “You mean this is not the height of fashion for 2007?” “No.” He snickered and shook his head. “But since this is a college town, you can get away with wearing that to the store.” “I was only making a jest. I do not need to attend your party with you, Professor. If you have not made your wishes by then, I can simply wait here until you return.” Ha! Fat chance he was going to let that happen. Until he had a handle on all of this, she’d be lucky if he let her out of his sight. “You’re going.” “As you wish, master.” She pressed her palms together in front of her chest and bowed her face over them. David growled, the sound coming from low in his chest. “Knock it off. I’ve got some friends I want you to meet. I think you’ll find them—helpful, given the circumstances.” She tipped her head to one side. “I do not understand.” “You said this Murdoch dude could show up at any time, right?” “Yes.” She spoke slowly, drawing out the single syllable. “What will he do if he finds you here, alone?” “Nothing—permanent.” “But it won’t be nice, will it.” He saw the shudder that rippled through her frame. “No.” “I’m not leaving you here by yourself. And these friends have faced down some pretty nasty stuff before. We need to talk to them.” “Couldn’t you just wish for something, then allow me to go?” “No.” Just his luck to have the chance of a lifetime dumped in his lap, when his conscience wouldn’t allow him to take advantage of it. “We’re going to figure out how to set you free, without letting this Murdoch asshole get his paws on you.” “I appreciate your intentions but without magic of your own, you will never be able to stand against him.” “Who said we don’t have any magic?” “You said you were not a mage. It will take a very powerful mage to defeat him. Mayhap if you were a warrior, you could overcome him that way but it would still be a grave risk. You have been a very thoughtful master and I do not wish to see you hurt. So please, make your wishes and let me go.” David snorted out a laugh. “Sugar, I’ve faced down some pretty scary shit in my time. To tell you the truth, one mangy wizard doesn’t even begin to trigger my alarm 38

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bells.” He closed the door of the dishwasher and walked over to where she sat, then squatted down so his eyes were level with hers and took her hands. They were soft as satin, cold and dwarfed by his oversized paws. “We’re going to fix this for you. I’m not sure how yet but I promise, you’re not going back into that box and you’re not going to end up with Murdoch. We just need some time to figure things out and arrange for some backup. So unless you can zap yourself a party dress, what we need to do now is go to the store. Got it?” Her big, slightly tilted violet eyes studied his face, making him wish he was betterlooking for the first time in years. Most of the time he could not care less but someone as stunning as Anissa deserved an escort who was in her same league. Once she laid eyes on some of the other guys, she wasn’t going to look at Dave twice. Well, he couldn’t do much about that but he supposed he could at least make time to shave. Wouldn’t his friends get a kick out of that? “Very well,” she finally conceded. “We will go to this party and I will meet with your friends. Murdoch will not show himself at such a gathering. He does not care for crowds. And he will likely wait a day or two in any case. But you said it is winter, correct?” “That’s right.” He pointed out the window to the light dusting of snow on the ground. “See?” She nodded and wiggled her sock covered feet. “Then the first thing I obtain, Professor, should probably be shoes.”

***** Actually the first order of business proved to be something called television. Anissa was astonished when the professor picked up a small plastic object, pointed it at the large glass-fronted box in the living room and pictures came to life on the screen. She’d seen a moving picture once, when her Chicago gangster master had wanted to show her off to his colleagues but this was so much more advanced. Not only was it here, in his own home but there was no film, no projector. And it was in color, with sounds. When he started changing the program with more taps on the button-thing, she sank onto the sofa and stared. “What is this?” “Television.” He pressed the little black thing into her hand. “This is the remote control. It changes the channel.” He must have seen her confusion, because he showed her which buttons to push, then kept going. “It’s like movies but broadcast into homes. With digital cable I have almost two hundred channels to choose from. I thought you could watch for a while, catch up on current events a bit while I take care of a few things.” She nodded, not turning her eyes from the screen. She was still staring when he returned.

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“You ready to go shopping?” Anissa held up her hand. “Wait.” It was almost the end of a marvelous contest to find the strongest man on the planet. The top five contenders were moving boulders and she was enjoying watching their muscles bulge. Then she caught herself. What had she just done? She had never told a master to wait before in all of her eight hundred years. Most of them would have slapped her by now, if not worse. She dropped to her knees in front of the divan. “Forgive me, master.” “For what? Why are you on the floor?” Anissa giggled. She had not intended to laugh, it had simply happened. She looked up, expecting a slap and all she saw was a look of total puzzlement beneath the bristly beard. He honestly did not know why she cowered at his feet. “What?” He peered at her and scratched his beard. “Did I put my shirt on inside out or something?” She shook her head. He looked fine. His hair was still damp and he wore clean clothing. A black jersey tunic—no, she remembered from the television, it was a hoodie—announced Some days it isn’t worth chewing through the restraints. Beneath it he wore baggy tan trousers and heavy black army-style boots. Hmm. Perhaps he had been a warrior after all. “Well then why are you laughing at me and what the hell are you doing kneeling on the floor?” He reached out a hand and hauled her to her feet. She waited until she could speak and tried to answer. The only problem was she had no idea what to say. Finally she spit it out between giggles. “I was afraid you were going to strike me.” “What?” Anissa’s eyes widened. She had not heard him shout before but his outraged bellow shook the very walls of the house. He backed away from her a step, crossed his arms over his chest and glared. “I. Do. Not. Hit. Women. Ever.” He was not just furious, she thought. He looked offended. And in his clear blue eyes, was a trace of something that resembled pain. She stepped up to him instantly, laid her hand over his crossed arms. “I am sorry, David. I was not truly thinking about you when I reacted. I have had many other masters and most of them have not been nice men. Once I remembered where I was and who I was with—that is when I laughed. At myself, for being silly. Never at you.” He just stared at her for a long moment, his eyes narrowed, assessing. Finally he gave her a curt little nod. “Good. No hitting. No matter what. And just for the record, you have my permission to say whatever you want, whenever you want. You can tell me I’m full of shit, you can tell me to go jump in the lake, you can call me a big stupid jackass, if you want. Got it?”

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“Why would I want to do that?” He was making no sense at all. “You are big but I do not think you would be a professor if you were stupid. And aren’t the lakes all frozen right now?” This time he laughed and his stiff stature relaxed as he patted her hand. “Trust me, sooner or later, you’ll get the urge. Now, let’s go get you some clothes.”

***** It was not the first time a master had taken her shopping but it was definitely the strangest. First he measured her feet with a sliding metal ruler. Then he carried her to his automobile, a boxy thing he called a Jeep. She had seen automobiles before but they had changed considerably in the past eighty years and this was much less comfortable than the long, stretched-out sedans she remembered. When he started it up, she jumped and shrieked at the loud blast of sound that emerged from the dashboard. “Oops. Not much of a punk rock fan, I guess.” He touched a button on the dashboard and the noise stopped. “What was that?” “Would you believe music?” He leaned over and took a strap attached to the top of the vehicle and then buckled it into a clasp at her waist, effectively lashing her into the seat. “Seat belts are required by law, now. You need to wear that every time you’re in a car.” “Very well.” She did not mind the strap. She just wished he had not brushed so close to her as he had fastened it. She could smell the crisp herbal fragrance of the shampoo in his hair and it married well with the duskier scent of clean healthy male. The combination was making her want things that a slave had no business wanting. Like a kiss. Or—more. She squeezed her legs together to ease the ache in her woman’s mound. “Here’s a question for you. How come a Djinni, which is a Middle Eastern mythos, has a British accent? Or speaks English in the first place, for that matter?” How was it he noticed holes in her story that no other master ever had? The man was far too clever, probably too much so for his own good. “My first master was an English soldier—one of King Richard’s Crusaders. He took me back with him to Britain, where I spent most of the last eight centuries. While comprehending languages and speaking in the same is part of the Djinni’s magic, I suppose I may have picked up some traces of local dialect.” “And the sorcerer, Murdoch. Is he Djinn?” “No. He is, or was, human.” “Was?” He kept his eyes focused on the road in front of them, navigating the icy road with what seemed to her like remarkable skill. Ice-covered trees zipped by and soon they came to a town. There were other cars alongside them, of all different shapes and colors.

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“After eight centuries, can you still call him human?” She did not want to talk about Murdoch. She wanted to learn more about this fascinating place and time she found herself in. “I guess not.” He turned the Jeep into a parking area. “Welcome to the town of Kilkenny, Michigan. It’s not much but some of us call it home.” The store in front of them claimed to be a shoe outlet. He stopped the car but left the engine running. “You wait here. I’ll be right back.” Carrying the metal measuring device, he dashed into the shop. Anissa played with the music buttons on the dashboard while he was gone. In addition to the raucous noise he had called punk rock music, she found several other kinds, including a very little that she recognized. Finally she found music that was both familiar and pleasant. A previous master had played the piano and had been very fond of the works of Beethoven. She left the device on that setting, enjoying the soft orchestral strains. The piece had not even finished when the professor returned carrying a bright yellow sack. “Here. These will keep your feet warm ‘til we can find you something better.” He climbed into the driver’s seat and handed her the sack. “Put them on so you can go into the next store.” She pulled a pair of boots from the bag. They were pink and quilted, with pink fur on the inside and no fasteners. She pulled one on over the heavy stockings and found it a snug fit but well cushioned by the fluffy artificial fur. “Your feet are so small I found those in the little kids section.” “Thank you. They should be very warm.” They were hideous but perhaps that was the style these days and he was being so kind, she would not belittle his choice. “Now for clothes. You’ll need a couple of days worth at least and something fancier for tonight.” “As you wish.” She tried not to wonder what he would demand in return. What she secretly hoped he would demand in return. The store he pulled into next was much larger than the first. There must have been fifty vehicles on the large concrete pad and they parked some distance away, making her grateful for the warm fluffy boots. She saw other women and girls in similar footwear, so perhaps he had not chosen so badly after all. One step inside had Anissa’s mouth hanging open. She had never in her life seen so many things under one roof at the same time. The shop appeared to house everything from cosmetics to furniture. Where was a person even supposed to begin? Apparently David had an idea. He grabbed a red plastic bin on wheels and pushed it ahead of them as he tugged her over to an area that contained racks upon racks of women’s clothing. Then he looked around, with a helpless sort of grimace. “Let me know if you see anything you like.”

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“Most of the people on the television wore those heavy blue trousers.” She had seen them on men, women and children, to the point where it was nearly a uniform. She was unfamiliar with the notion of women in trousers but they looked very comfortable. And it seemed the television had been correct. Here in the store, the blue leggings were also the standard. “Jeans.” He nodded agreement. “Good idea. They’re pretty much a staple. Add some shirts, some sweaters and you’re all set.” Jeans were easy to find. He grabbed three different sizes off the rack of denims and handed them to her. “Go in there and try them on.” He pointed to the dressing room. And then a few minutes later, he watched her sashay out and his tongue damn near hit the floor. She’d been gorgeous in a pair of his old cut off sweats. In painted-on blue jeans, she was a fucking goddess. “Are these acceptable?” She turned, making sure he had a good view of her mouthwatering ass. “Uh—fine.” Really, really fine. Moving kept him from tackling her then and there, so he collected two more pair while she changed back into the sweats. Then he figured what the hell and threw in a khaki pair and one in black, just in case she got tired of blue. She continued to torture him as she selected t-shirts, sweatshirts, blouses and sweaters, arguing with each addition that he was buying too much. He was glad his own pants were baggy cargo-style khakis, or they’d have kicked him out of the store for being a pervert. Just to be on the safe side, though, he carried his coat in front of his body to hide the raging hard-on he got just watching her. “Will this do for the party you mentioned?” She held up a black velvet skirt. At least he thought it was supposed to be a skirt. It could have been a really wide belt. “Umm—I guess.” That was him, Mr. Eloquent. “Might get a little chilly.” Might make me bend you over and fuck you before we even get out my front door. “You made me choose a long coat. It will be fine.” Yeah, fine was a damn good word for her. “What about on top?” “This, I thought.” She pointed at a sparkly purple top. Damned if the thing wasn’t almost exactly the same color as her eyes. It was hard to speak, since his mouth had gone completely dry and all the blood in his body was presently filling his cock. He just nodded toward the dressing room and she gave him a happy grin as she headed in. Screw it, if it made her smile like that, he’d buy her a hell of a lot more than a bunch of clothes. Next came the other stuff. Shoes, socks, even underwear. He refused to help with that one. She took pity on him and patted him on the shoulder. “I will manage.” He ducked over to menswear to grab a new sweater for himself. Fuck, it was a party after all. When he went back to get Anissa, he tried not to look when she dumped

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a colorful jumble of lace into the cart. The cosmetic aisle was much the same. He knew she needed shampoo, deodorant and makeup but the details were a total mystery to him. They’d never been able to afford much of that stuff when David and Jenna had lived with their mom. “What is wrong with the soap and shampoo I used last night?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Did you like it?” The thought of her using his stuff was oddly arousing. He’d never had a relationship get that intimate. “It was fine. This lotion to moisturize the skin. May I get one of those?” “Pick whichever one you want.” He watched while she checked the fragrances of several, glaring at anyone who looked like they might ask her to stop. Nobody did. Then they got to makeup. All he could do here was throw up his hands and shrug. His little Djinni was smart, though. She studied the displays and watched the people who walked by. Then she started reading product labels. Pretty soon there was a small, surprisingly small, pile of colorful packets in the cart. “That will do,” she announced with a crisp nod. “I saw a program on the television about face paint. I shall not embarrass you in front of your friends.” “Sweetheart, you wouldn’t do that if you were wearing a clown suit and a red rubber nose.” Of course, he didn’t think she needed the makeup anyway but she’d looked like she was having fun picking it out, so he didn’t say anything. To his mind, she was gorgeous enough without it. After checking out, he bundled the huge pile of bags into the back of the Jeep, then climbed in alongside Anissa, who was flipping through a fashion magazine they’d picked up a the checkout counter. “Okay, we need to pick up lunch on the way home, since we killed off the leftovers last night. You got a favorite food?” She titled her head to look up at him sideways. “If you continue feeding me, I am going to be too fat to wear the clothes you purchased. What is it about you and food?” He shrugged. “I know what it feels like to go without it, that’s all.” “I can make you wealthy, you know. According to the television, there is a lottery in this state. All you have to do is wish and it can be yours.” Her tone was speculative and he wondered briefly if she was testing him. She could try. He wasn’t going to use his wishes for himself. “I have plenty of money.” More than he could figure out how to spend. He’d done very well in the dot-com boom a while back, aside from what he made teaching and writing video games with Eric and a few others. “So why is there no furniture in your house?” He laughed. “Because I just moved in and haven’t had time to go shopping yet.” “Oh.” She turned back to her magazine. Since she hadn’t specified a food type, Dave decided to go with easy, since time was getting tight and he had no earthly idea how long it would take her to get ready for a party. Besides, he wanted to see her face when she discovered the concept of a burger joint drive-through.

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***** Stars, she hoped she had done this correctly. She had had masters take her out and show her off before but never on her first day in a new century. And she had never cared before what they thought of her. She had the fashion magazine spread open on the bathroom counter as she tried to brush her hair into some semblance of order and secure it with the black velvet bow she had selected to match the skirt. The face paint or makeup that was shown in the magazine was much more pronounced than what she had seen on the women in the store, so she opted for the simpler look, just using a little violet powder labeled eye shadow, a kohl-like eyeliner pencil and a sparkly pink lipstick. The professor was too important to risk embarrassing. Her head was still in a whirl over him. He was not what she had been expecting for a champion but she was beginning to come to grips with the notion that he was. He certainly seemed to think so and he did not even know about her vision. Or about what his presence did to her body. “You almost ready in there?” She heard him from out in the hall, through the closed door of his bedroom. He had gathered some supplies and retreated to his guest bathroom to dress, a gesture that had touched Anissa more than she liked to admit. “Just a moment.” She turned from side to side to study her reflection in the huge mirror, then nodded. It would have to do. Her only jewelry was the silver hoop earrings and belled anklet from her dancing costume but they seemed to go with the outfit she had chosen. She tugged the sleeves of the purple knit blouse lower on her shoulders, adjusting the shoulder straps to cover the straps of her black lacy brassiere. Underwear in this century was more like her dancer’s garb than anything she had worn in public before but the soft silky fabric felt good against her skin, as did the sheer black pantyhose that covered her legs beneath the tiny black skirt. She clicked off the bathroom light and stepped out in the bedroom to put on her shoes. “You may come in now.” The door to the hallway opened and Anissa stopped and stared with her shoe halfway to her foot, dumbfounded by the man who stepped into the room. Who was this and what had he done to her master? “Everything okay?” The gruff velvet voice was right and so was the strong, thickfingered hand that idly stroked his chin. The bare skin where a rough red-brown beard had been just an hour ago. His hair was still long but had been ruthlessly tamed into a small queue at the nape of his neck with a black leather thong. His bright blue eyes were the same, though and they studied her hotly. “Wow. You look amazing.” His deep voice was husky and warm and Anissa felt it like a caress, all the way to her bones. She felt her face warm in a flush as her womb clenched and her passage moistened and she focused on her shoes until she could breathe correctly again. Once she had the velvet pumps in place, she stood and smiled. “As do you.” It was a struggle not to lick her lips and to keep her hands at her sides. A soft blue turtleneck hugged a chest that she could see was broad and thickly muscled, not fat as she had

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assumed from his baggy sweatshirts. Heathery gray trousers fell from trim hips and he carried a gray tweed jacket over one arm. She grinned as her eyes continued downward though. From beneath the woolen trousers peeked a pair of perfectly shined combat boots. “Yeah, this should shock the hell out of them,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Sorry I didn’t have time for a haircut.” “I am glad.” The admission popped out of her mouth before she could stop it. “Your hair is—nice.” His grin was sweet and a little bit shy. He ignored the compliment. “We didn’t think to buy you a purse or anything. You need me to stick anything in my pockets for you? Doesn’t look like there’s much room in that outfit.” “Is it too small? I could wear the black jeans.” She whirled toward the dresser. “Whoa there.” He stopped her by laying a hand on her shoulder. The contact of his warm hand on her bare skin pulsed through her like a lance straight to her womb. He had used some sort of cologne or shaving lotion. The extra touch of spiciness it added to his scent made her knees wobble. “It looks great. I just don’t see any pockets, if you need to take a hairbrush, or some makeup or anything.” “Oh.” She had to move away from him a step in order to think. “The lipstick, perhaps.” “Fine.” She fetched it from the bathroom while he put on his coat and he slid the silver tube into his pocket without hesitation. Then he stood by the door, holding it open for her. “Ready?” She nodded, ignoring the butterflies that tumbled in her stomach like traveling acrobats. She followed him down the stairs to the kitchen door where he helped her into the long quilted down coat he had purchased and cut the tags off a pair of soft leather gloves before handing them to her. Then he tucked his wicked-looking folded blade back into the pocket of his trousers. Yes, she now believed that there was more of the warrior to him than she had originally thought. “There’s just one more thing I’ve got to do before we go.” His whisper was such a low bass rumble she barely heard it. “What?” She looked up at him, mesmerized by the sheer breadth of him looming so close. “This.” He leaned down with one hand on the wall and one holding her elbow in a loose grip. Then he lowered his face to hers, moving slowly, giving her plenty of time to escape. She could not have moved, even if she had desired to do so. And truly, she did not wish to. Instead, she went up on her toes to meet him partway. At first it was just a featherlight brush of his lips against hers. Unfair. She placed both her hands on his shoulders and tugged, bringing him back down. Then she opened her lips and drank him in. He tasted of mint, smelled of spice and man and it only took

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a moment for him to take over the kiss. His free arm swept around her waist and drew her up against him while his lips plundered and devoured. Anissa gave a little moan as her breasts crushed up against his rock-hard chest and he used that instant to sweep his tongue inside her mouth, teasing, tasting and seeking out every curve and hollow. Not to be outdone, she stroked it with her own and they played seek-and-follow until they were both breathless and shaking. Her new underwear and pantyhose were dripping wet and her swollen nipples throbbed against his chest. His long thick shaft pressed into her belly, hard and strong and she exulted in the knowledge that he wanted her just as she longed for him. Finally he straightened and stood her back on her feet, steadying her at the waist until she stopped wobbling. As soon as she could breathe, she blurted out the first thought that popped into her head. “Must we attend this party? We could stay here.” David drew in a ragged breath. “Don’t tempt me.” He leaned over and did up the top two buttons on her coat. “Now let’s get out of here while we still can.” “Just one moment.” She looked around, saw a box of tissues by the couch and grabbed one before returning to David. “What?” He was still breathing heavily, as was she. Her feminine heart was thrilled to know he was as affected by the kiss as she had been. She raised the tissue to his face and wiped at the area around his lips, smiling softly. “Pink, Professor, is decidedly not your color.”

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Chapter Five Dave mentally kicked himself in the head the whole way to the party. Kissing Anissa had been a really, really bad idea. Hell, he’d known that before he’d done it. He’d just absolutely needed to taste her before he took her out in public as his date, before she got a good look at some of the other men the twenty-first century had to offer. But now he’d be lucky if he could be seen in public without a bath in the snow. His cock was screaming for release. He could still taste her, damn it. He’d meant to claim her as his but he thought it had turned out the wrong way around. Even though she’d wiped away the lipstick, he felt like it had been permanently branded into his skin. “This is where your friends live?” “Yep.” They’d pulled into the parking lot of Wes’ condo complex. “They do not own the whole thing, do they? I thought castles went out of fashion.” “No, they just have a condo.” She made a little hum he was beginning to identify as confusion. “Apartments. I know they had those in the twenties.” “Oh. Of course. My master lived in one in Chicago.” He hated the fact that she’d been a slave to a long string of men and even more that she still thought of herself as a slave. That knowledge helped him get his raging lust under control. “Didn’t any women ever solve the box? Were all your masters men?” “There were women. But they usually wished quickly and were done. Few of them wanted a harem girl as a slave.” His hands gripped the wheel tightly as he pulled into a parking space. Time to quit talking about this for now. They had to go mingle politely until they could get his friends aside. “Okay, we’re going in. Remember what you’re supposed to say if anyone asks?” “I am visiting from Europe. I have moved around a great deal and do not care to discuss it. We met when you were in England last summer and you invited me to visit.” “Perfect.” He turned off the Jeep and tilted the review mirror toward Anissa, then handed her the lipstick out of his blazer pocket. “You might want to fix this.” “Thank you.” She did so with swift, deft moves, like she’d been using the stuff for years. No one at the party would suspect she wasn’t exactly human. Of course, he didn’t like thinking about that either. He got out and walked around to open her door. He felt a surge of pride when she took his arm to walk into the apartment. She might not have chosen him to be with but she’d kissed him back like she meant it and she didn’t appear ashamed to be seen by his side. That was something.

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The party was already going strong. The loud beat of the salsa music wafted through the closed door into the hallway. Dave knocked loudly, then brushed a few snowflakes off his sport coat while they waited. The light dusting of flakes sparkled like gems where they nestled in Anissa glossy dark curls. “Come on in.” The door flung wide and Ben Montoya spoke without really looking at his guests. Then he paused to see who it was and did a double take, his goggle-eyed expression making Dave laugh. “Yeah, it’s me. Can we come in or not?” “Wesley,” Montoya called as he stepped aside to usher them in. Then he turned his way-too-charming Latin smile on Anissa and Dave had to resist the urge to break his pretty face. “Hi there. I’m Ben Montoya.” “Anissa Black.” She smiled and shook his hand the way Dave had taught her. Maybe he shouldn’t have. The sight of another man touching her made Dave’s blood pressure spike until he was afraid the top of his head would blow off. She’d admitted a previous master had picked the surname because of her hair and because it was common. That pissed him off too. “Hey there.” Wes sauntered up, her long, lean curves barely covered in red spandex. Usually Dave spared a few minutes to drool, but tonight Wesley’s charms barely registered. Every other woman present paled in comparison to Anissa. “Holy shit, Dave.” Wes grabbed him by the shoulders and held him at arm’s length to study his clothes. “You clean up good when you try.” She turned to Anissa and held out a hand. “I’m Wesley. I don’t know who you are but if you can get him to look like this, would you consider sticking around?” “This is Anissa Black.” Violet eyes studied Wesley critically until Ben dropped a kiss onto Wes’ tousled golden curls, then Anissa smiled and shrugged one shoulder. “I am sorry but I had nothing to do with his clothing.” “Let me take your coat.” Ben held out a hand but Dave moved quicker. He stepped behind Anissa and helped her out of the long down parka. A few minutes later, they’d moved out of the doorway and into the spacious living room. Dave had a cold beer in his hand, while Wes had poured Anissa a glass of wine. “We need to talk to you two later. Are Eric and Lori here yet?” Ben shook his head. “As far as I know they’re coming, though.” “Good. We could use their input too. I wish to hell Drake was in town.” Ben raised his eyes at that. “That kind of problem is it?” Dave nodded. Ben’s shoulders squared and his lips tightened into a thin line. Dave watched the other man force himself to relax. “I see. We’ll talk.”

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Ben and Wes moved off to greet other guests, leaving Dave and Anissa to their own devices. “Is your friend Ben a professor too?” Anissa whispered. “When I was in Edinburgh, the dons were not allowed to marry.” He raised one eyebrow and shook his head, missing the feel of his hair and beard bouncing around. “That must have been a while ago. Both Ben and Wesley are professors. She’s a geneticist and he teaches English at another school nearby.” “She is a professor as well?” “Yeah. So’s Lori, my friend Eric’s wife. Most women have careers these days. And Wesley isn’t married to Ben, by the way. He keeps asking but she keeps putting him off. So they just live together.” An incredulous grin spread across Anissa’s heart-shaped face. “Really? And no one objects?” He shrugged. “I guess there are still a few old fuddy-duddies around but it’s pretty common.” He could see the wheels turn in her brain as she processed that. Anissa broke into a wide grin. “I think I love this century.” It was the most natural thing in the world to snake an arm around her waist and give her a squeeze. “Yeah, well it’s gonna love you too. Now come on, there are some people I want you to meet.” They chatted with other faculty members, even a few students from the fantasy and role-playing clubs on campus, which Montoya had belonged to as a grad student while Dave was a faculty advisor. Though Dave caught some ribbing about having shaved, it was worth it to see the happy gleam in Anissa’s violet eyes. Finally Eric and Lori showed up. As Wes and Ben shepherded them in, Dave began maneuvering himself and Anissa closer to the new arrivals. “Oh.” Anissa shook her head and whispered to Dave. “She should not be here tonight.” “Why not?” He continued to tug her closer to the door even as he murmured back. “Nobody keeps pregnant women confined and isolated anymore.” Anissa stopped dead and tugged on his hand, forcing him to turn and look her in the eyes. “You care about this woman.” Her voice was curious, but still pitched so low that no one else could hear. He thought about it, then nodded. “Yeah. I guess I do. And Eric is probably my very best friend.” Anissa smiled. “That is very sweet.” She patted his lapel, then her face twisted in a grimace. “I did not mean she should not be welcome.” She reached up for his ear and dragged his head down even closer. “She is in labor but I do not think she knows it yet.” Oh hell. Dave wanted nothing whatsoever to do with that situation. No way, no how. “How do you know?”

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“I am Djinn. I can occasionally sense certain things about people.” “From twenty feet away?” Having his face so close to her hair was distracting. He could smell an odd mix of his shampoo, warm woman and the faint licorice scent that always seemed to cling to her. She shook her head, dusting his nose with a few errant curls. “Not usually. But the vibrations are rolling off her in waves. I think the child is very impatient to be born.” “Fuck.” What was he supposed to do? Tell Eric? How the hell did you bring up something like that? He didn’t have time to think about it, because right about then Eric, with the advantage of his six-feet-plus height, spotted Dave over the mob and tugged Lori toward them, her belly parting the crowd like the prow of a ship. “You shaved.” Lori squealed as she moved to hug him. Dave cautiously wrapped his arms around her shoulders and let her hug him too terrified to squeeze back. He didn’t want to make anything go pop. “Hey, dude.” Eric clapped Dave on the shoulder once his wife let go. “Nice clothes. Who’d you mug to get them?” “Shut up, asshole. Like you haven’t seen my faculty meeting outfit before.” “Yeah, it does look familiar. I guess I was just blinded by the shiny face.” “Don’t listen to him, David. You look great.” Lori punched her husband lightly on the shoulder, then tucked a chunk of her shoulder-length brown hair behind her ear. “So do you.” He turned to peer up at Eric. “You sure she should be here?” “David.” Lori’s normally sweet voice was sharp with warning. Dave immediately snapped a salute. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.” The three of them laughed while Anissa looked on as though she was watching a play. Lori finished her reprimand more gently. “Talk to the pregnant woman, not about the pregnant woman. We’ve been through this.” He nodded, then shrugged and looked away. “Sorry. I guess I just worry about you a little.” “That’s so sweet.” She patted his elbow, then turned to Anissa. “Sorry about all of that. It’s just that the last time we actually saw his face was at our wedding last spring. I’m Lori Gordon and this is my husband Eric, David’s office mate.” “Anissa Black.” “Nice to meet you, Anissa. Do you live around—oh!” Lori broke off and clutched Eric’s arm. “That was weird.” Eric paled as he looked down at his wife. “You okay?” “Just a back spasm, I think.” Dave felt Anissa’s nails digging into his own arm, knew she wanted to say something but didn’t know how. He took a deep breath and sent a mental message of apology to his sister for taking her name in vain. He leaned over to whisper to Eric. “Dude, you know my sister, right?”

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“Yeah but what…” Eric held onto Lori with one hand, fiddled with his glasses with the other, a sure sign he was stressed. “Look, I talked to her today. She’s psychic remember? She said to tell you and Lori congratulations.” “That’s cool but what…” “She made some really strong hints about tonight, Eric.” Eric’s jaw dropped, his eyes flew open. “You mean… Holy shit!” Dave nodded. “Exactly.” Eric’s throat worked furiously but no sound came out. Dave knew Anissa was watching everything closely, he could feel her scrutiny and he saw out of the corner of his eye when she turned and took the other woman’s hand. “Are you feeling well, Mrs. Gordon?” “Lori.” She made a face that was probably an attempt to smile. “I’ll be fine. My back’s been bugging me on and off all day, but just now it totally locked up.” “Are you sure it is your back? Labor can simulate other kinds of pain.” “I think we should go.” Eric was still pale but he’d wrestled himself under control. Dave couldn’t imagine being in his buddy’s shoes right now. Hell, he was scared and it wasn’t his wife, or his kid. “I’m not due for another week.” “So you would be well within the realm of normal.” Anissa smiled reassuringly and patted Lori’s arm. “I agree with your husband. You should at the very least return home and rest. Perhaps contact your midwife or physician.” “Midwife,” Lori breathed. She squeezed Anissa’s hand and something odd happened. Lori’s pale skin regained a bit of its natural color, while Anissa’s golden skin grew dull. “Do you have children?” “No but I have—assisted a midwife in the past.” “You two can have this conversation later.” Dave did not want Anissa to get tangled up in any long discussions about her past. And he wanted Eric to get his wife the hell out of here before anything—messy—happened. “Right. Just in case she’s right, we’re leaving.” Eric put his hands on his wife’s shoulders and started steering her toward the door. “Say goodnight, Gracie.” “Goodnight, Gracie.” Lori shrugged and sighed. “I still don’t think we need to go yet but he’s going to have a fit if we don’t. Nice meeting you, Anissa.” Dave caught Montoya’s eye from across the room and jerked his head at Eric and Lori. Ben nodded and met the couple at the door with their coats. “Call when you head to the hospital,” Dave overheard Ben murmur to Eric. “Wesley wants to be there.” “Deal.” Eric rolled his eyes. “Happy New Year, guys.”

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Anissa swayed, barely noticing when David caught her arm and steered her to a sofa with one empty spot on the end, then perched himself on the arm beside her. She felt the chuckle reverberate through his body more than she actually heard it. “Well that was interesting. You managed to feed her some kind of energy, didn’t you?” “Only a little.” But it had taken a toll on her limited stamina. She had not slept much the night before and she found the loud music and thronging crowd a little wearisome. She thought about saying he could take her home to bed but held her tongue. She knew that this was where he wished to be, so she shook her head. “Anything I can do to help?” He was so kind but she shook her head again, though the motion made her dizzy. “Not unless… I do not suppose there is any food here, is there?” He laughed out loud, causing several heads to turn in their direction. She did not care, not even when he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, until her head was resting on his thigh. After a moment he eased her back against the sofa and stood. “I think we can scrounge something. Wait here.” She let her eyes drift shut while she waited. The next thing she knew, he was tapping her shoulder. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. Here’s your snack. Once you’ve polished that off, you can go get some dinner.” “There is dinner?” She blinked rapidly, trying to get her eyes to focus. “Huge buffet in the kitchen. Didn’t you notice?” “No.” She sat up and reached for the plate he held, then let out a laugh. It was piled high with what must have been one of everything on the buffet. “This is your idea of a snack? Is there any food left for the other guests?” He shrugged, then stroked his chin. She stifled another laugh when she saw the brief flare of confusion. It clearly took him a moment to remember that he had shaved. “I didn’t know what you’d want, so I got a little of everything.” “Here. Please sit down and share some of this so everyone does not mistake me for a sow.” She patted the now-vacant spot next to her on the sofa, before popping a cheese cube into her mouth. He sat and helped himself to a meatball on a wooden toothpick. “Thank you.” “For what?” She played with what had to be the tiniest tomato she’d ever seen before exploding it between her teeth. Wonderful. “You fetched the food.” “For helping Lori. And for tipping me off.” She shook her head. “It was nothing.” He smiled and she was glad he let the matter go. She watched while he dipped a celery stick in a creamy white spread before holding it up for her to bite. Oh stars, it was marvelous. She chewed with enthusiasm, then dunked a miniature carrot in the same goo. Some sort of cream with dill, perhaps? She had to get a recipe

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for this concoction. If she was out of the box for long enough to bother, at any rate. She said as much to David, who laughed. “It comes in a plastic tub for about a buck. Nobody makes veggie dip from scratch.” Anissa shook her head again, glad the dizziness had passed. “This century is so confusing. How do any of you ever make sense of it?” “I’m not sure we do. At least not all the time. You just deal with things as they come and get through the best you can.” They finished off the plate in companionable silence. She watched the people mill about the room, studying postures, behaviors and clothing. So much to learn but she was already catching on to some of it. It would probably be just her luck to finally sort it all out and then have him make his wishes before she could put it to use. That pattern had happened more than once in the last eight hundred years. A blast of flat-sounding music sounded from somewhere near her left shoulder, causing her to jump and she spilled the glass of fizzy water David had fetched her. “What is that?” David made a face and reached into his pocket. “My cell phone. Eric.” He pulled out a small silver object and unfolded it into something that resembled the remote control for the television. When he opened it up, the music stopped. Then he held it up to his ear and spoke. “Yo. What’s up?” He paused briefly and asked, “You cool with us hanging out?” What on earth did that mean? Sometimes she had no idea what he was saying, even though she knew he was speaking English. “You need us to do anything else?” He nodded. “Cool. Be there in a bit. Hang in there, bud.” He flipped the device closed and turned to Anissa. “Time to go.”

***** More than the telephones had changed, Anissa thought, looking around the grimly sterile hospital waiting room. When had the men in charge decided that all babies should be born in such unpleasant surroundings? She leaned against a thick concrete window ledge and looked around at the harsh lights, plastic furniture and cold tile floors, then shivered. “Cold?” David was right by her side, a place he had barely strayed from since the moment she had popped out of the box. She had been so terrified of the big, shaggy man at first. Then she’d desired him with overwhelming lust. Now—now she drew such comfort just from having him beside her, though his scent still made her toes curl. All in less than a single day. “A little.” It was chilly in here and she was fully clothed. How awful it must be for the patients in those flimsy little shifts she had seen them wear.

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David slipped off his tweed jacket and held it out to her. “Here. That outfit was fine for the party but it’s not great for sitting around waiting and the pink one is too warm for in here.” She snuggled into the big heavy garment, which was still warm from his body and fragrant with the scent of his aftershave and his skin. “Thank you.” The slap of large shoes and the click of high heels echoed in the nearly empty hallway as Wesley Iversen and Ben Montoya came scurrying into the waiting room, also still in their party clothes. The two were quite possibly the most physically beautiful couple Anissa had ever met. Obviously both were brilliant thinkers and yet they were so down to earth and friendly that it was impossible not to like them. “We left Wendy in charge of the party.” The statuesque blonde was clearly out of breath from hurrying. “Any news?” “Eric popped his head out when they told him we were here. Said everything’s going about as expected, whatever the hell that means.” “That’s good, isn’t it?” The other woman seemed as out of her depth in the situation as the men. They were all so close, these friends and Anissa could not help but feel out of place. She tried to draw back further into the shadows by the window, but David caught her hand, holding her to his side. “How the hell should I know?” David’s grip tightened on Anissa’s hand and she could feel the worry and tension that radiated through him. Despite the big gruff exterior, he was so softhearted. “You’re the biologist.” “Two words, doofus. Plant. Genetics. And if you even think about saying I should know more because I’m female—” David chucked and his tight stance relaxed a little. “Trust me, Wes, I value the family jewels too much to try that one. I think Lori’s the only one of this crowd who’s ever spent any time with kids and she’s kinda busy right now.” “Since we have to wait, why don’t we all go sit down?” Professor Montoya, the calmest of the group, was obviously of Spanish origins though he spoke American English with no trace of an accent. Clearly America had become the melting pot of cultures that it had once aspired to. Montoya pointed to a grouping of ugly chairs off in a corner, away from the few other people scattered about the room. They sat, helping themselves to coffee from a big silver urn plugged into the wall on the way. Society had certainly become even more dependent on electricity in the last eighty years, but Anissa was not inclined to complain as she sipped the strong, hot beverage. “So what was it you wanted to talk about, Dave?” Ben kept his voice pitched low, so that only their small circle could hear. “You were wishing Drake was in town?” “Oh yeah.” David sighed heavily and slumped in his chair, leaning his elbows on his knees. “You know how stunned we all were to realize dragons are real?”

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Anissa’s eyes popped all the way open. Dragons? What on earth was he talking about? Before she could ask, however he went on, leaning toward the center of their little cluster. “Well, now you get to meet a real live Djinni.”

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Chapter Six Both Wesley and Ben blinked and turned to stare at Anissa, who tried to shrink, tried to meld with her chair. How could David do this to her? They would never believe without proof and this was far from the place to provide it. “Anissa?” Ben’s voice was soft and very gentle. “You?” She tipped her head a tiny bit. David was her master. It was his right to expose her if he wished. Her voice was barely a sigh when she spoke. “Yes.” Montoya turned back to David. “How did you find this out?” To Anissa’s surprise, his tone conveyed skepticism, but not outright incredulity. “Did she pop out of a bottle?” Wesley’s voice was wry but her eyes were still kind. Anissa tried to find words but David shook his head and reached over to take her hand again. “A box,” he murmured. “You remember the puzzle box I picked up in Florida last summer?” “The one you wouldn’t let me try?” Wesley returned with a small grimace. “That was mean.” David shrugged. “From the minute I found that box, I knew there was something odd about it. And it felt very wrong to let anyone else touch it. Kind of like it was meant for me.” “So when you finally solved it…” Ben prompted. David gave him a nod. “Poof. Big cloud of purple smoke. Then there she was.” Ben and Wesley both studied her as if she were some sort of merchandise at a market but the warm strength of David’s grip on her hand gave her courage to sit straight and allow their scrutiny. Finally Wesley broke the silence. “Do you grant wishes?” Anissa cast a sidelong glance at David, saw his encouraging nod and small smile as she gave her hand a subtle squeeze. “Yes. But only to the one who opens the box.” Ben tilted his head and looked at David. “So what did you want our advice for? Can’t you come up with your own wishes?” The teasing note in his voice kept Anissa from bristling at the insult to her master. “She’s a slave, Ben. Could you take advantage of that?” His gruff tone was as serious as she’d ever heard it and the wealth of compassion in his words almost brought tears to her eyes. No other master had ever thought of her first. Never. “No.” Wesley and Ben spoke in unison. “Can you be freed?” Wesley directed her question to Anissa.

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She was only bound to answer her master, so Anissa simply looked down at her hands. “Anissa.” David’s voice made her look up at him. That was a mistake. A woman— or Djinni—could drown in the depths of his bright blue eyes. “Please answer them. We’re only trying to help you.” Drawing a deep breath, Anissa nodded. She looked up at the other couple and chose her words with care. “It is possible. But it is not practical. He would be far better served to make his wishes and send me back to the box.” “Why isn’t it practical?” Wesley kicked off her high heels and folded her long fishnet-clad legs up under her in the chair. Anissa couldn’t help but envy the taller woman’s easy grace. “Releasing me takes a full three wishes. There would be none left for him.” “So? That’s the same number he had before he opened the box.” Ben’s matter-offact tone proved that he did not understand either. Anissa gritted her teeth and suppressed a snarl. Did none of these people realize what David would be giving up? “Not that it isn’t tempting.” One corner of his expressive, mobile mouth quirked upward. She could see why he hid that mouth and chin with the beard normally. It was so much easier to read his mood without the hair. “From what she’s said, the wishes can do damn near anything.” “Really? That’s cool.” Wesley’s expression was openly curious. “Anything?” “Not quite.” Anissa shook her head. “Close enough,” David argued. “But that isn’t important. The wishes are going to release you. The problem is the wizard and that’s where these two might be able to help.” “Wizard?” Montoya looked around as if to be certain no one else was close enough to hear. No one was but still he stood and dragged his chair closer to Anissa’s and Wesley followed suit and even David scrunched his seat a few inches closer, tightening the circle. “Oh shit, not another one.” Wesley rolled her eyes and grumbled. “The last one was a pain in the ass.” “The last one was a wannabe.” David’s lips set into a grim flat line. “This one’s had eight hundred years to practice.” “What?” “You’ve got to be shitting me.” Wesley was much blunter than her lover, Anissa decided. “No, it’s true.” David turned to Anissa and gave her an encouraging smile. “Tell them about Murdoch and the box, okay?” But Anissa’s mind was still a few sentences back in the conversation. “You have faced a wizard before? And emerged victorious?” “Yeah, last spring. But that isn’t important now. Please tell them about the box.” 58

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She nodded. She could not refuse a direct request from her master. “Where would you like me to begin?” “How about at the beginning?” Professor Montoya’s words were gentle and encouraging, but not particularly helpful. “Which beginning? Mine or that of the box?” “How about where the two intersect?” Once again, Wesley was the voice of reason. “That would be with my grandfather.” Anissa paused searching out the right words, the appropriate amount of the story to tell. “He liked to interfere in the human realm. He did not care for the man your history calls Saladin and he formed an alliance with King Richard’s army.” “Richard? As in Richard the First? Of England?” Anissa nodded at the other woman. “Correct. My grandfather met a would-be wizard called Murdoch of the Moorlands among the Crusaders and amused himself by training the young man. He even brought Murdoch across the veil into the realm of the Djinn, a place very few humans have ever seen.” “Keep going.” David nudged her knee with his. “Murdoch was an apt student and during his training performed many services for my grandfather. So my grandfather chose to reward him and offered Murdoch his pick of my grandfather’s possessions, assuming he would choose some magical item. He did not know that Murdoch had seen me one day near the fountain outside the seraglio. When Murdoch chose me as his reward, my grandfather had no choice but to honor the bargain.” “No choice, my ass.” David’s voice rose just enough to draw the attention of the others in the room until Wesley clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Agreed, but be quiet,” the blonde commanded. Then she turned to Anissa. “Please go on.” “You must understand.” She already knew how David felt about slavery, about ownership. How could she make him understand that among the Djinn, this was the norm? Whoever was the strongest held absolute power within a clan. “I meant very little to him. My mother had defied him when she was—with my sire. His bloodlines were less than pure and I have always been tainted by her disgrace. In truth, I am not even pure Djinn but some unknown mix of Djinn, elf and probably even human.” They all shook their heads as if that was of no importance. And perhaps to them it was not. But it had been of vital significance to Rashid. “So where were your parents while your grandfather was selling you off like a cow?” This time David’s voice was a low, angry growl. “I never knew my father. He vanished before my birth. I was told he had abandoned my mother but I always believed that my grandfather had him killed.” “And your mother?” Ben’s voice was still soft and kind, though his face was set in rigid lines.

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“My mother was never—strong after his disappearance. She was afraid to stand up to her father. She cried when they came for me but she made no move to stop them.” “Useless twit.” This time it was Wesley expressing disgust. Anissa did not have it in her to disagree. She took a sip of her bitter coffee to wet her lips. “My grandfather was our ruler. I was of age. There was nothing she could do.” Wesley scrunched up her nose and made a face. “But go on, Anissa. We need to know the rest.” “Somehow, he had discovered that the Djinn can be bound into an object. When I refused to share his bed, he cast the spell which bound me to the box.” “And the only way out is for someone to use all three wishes to free you?” Ben’s brow was furrowed with concentration. “Or for Murdoch to free me himself, which he will only do if I agree to belong to him. But I have been refusing him for eight hundred years and I will continue until I die, or he does, whichever comes first.” “I take it the box lends you a form of immortality,” Ben interjected. “You certainly look good for being several centuries old.” She sent him a small smile of thanks. “I only age when I am out of the box, which is a very small portion of my time. Most of the masters who have solved the puzzle simply make their wishes and send me back into the box.” Wesley tore tiny pieces off her now empty cup with her red-lacquered fingernails, dropping the debris heedlessly into her lap. “Have some of them have kept you out for a while?” Anissa nodded. “A few. One older man wished me to be his mistress for the remainder of his life. It was about eight or nine years, I think.” She felt rather than heard David’s growl, the low rumble that vibrated through his body. “A few others have dragged out their wishes for several years. The most recent was in the late nineteen-twenties, in Chicago.” “And you’re at their mercy during the time it takes to make their wishes?” “Yes. Part of the curse of the box is that I must do the non-magical bidding of my master or mistress during that time.” “And some of them used their fists to reinforce that.” David’s words were a low snarl. “I looked at her funny and she ducked, expecting to be hit.” “Too bad they’re all already dead.” Ben’s tone had gone as flat and hard as David’s. “And this wizard Murdoch should be.” Even Wesley looked furious, though her voice was quiet and steady. “He’s gotta be over eight hundred too. Which brings up another question. Why isn’t he dust by now? Does he only age when you do?” “No.” Anissa shook her head. “One of his wishes. He ages one year for every hundred that he lives.” Wesley raided one eyebrow. “Good wish, if you’re a megalomaniac.”

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Ben nodded his agreement. “So if he was thirty-something then and it’s been eight hundred years, he should be effectively about forty. That’s still a young and vital age in our society.” “Nothing a Smith and Wesson can’t handle,” David rumbled. “Better yet, a Glock.” “Noisy.” Montoya wiggled his hand. “And messy, especially if anyone sees it happen. We don’t want to end up losing you, either.” “Now I see why you wished Drake was here. And hungry.” Wesley continued her absentminded destruction, while David played idly with Anissa’s fingers. “Who is Drake?” Anissa wished he would stop getting more friends involved. They all ignored her question. “Of course, there remains the question of how we find this asshole.” Ben plucked the tiny piece of remaining cup out of his lover’s hands and set it on a nearby table. “Obviously, we can’t have her looking over her shoulder for him the rest of her life.” David wiggled the hand that was not still holding hers. “According to Anissa, he’ll find us. She says he always finds her when she’s out of the box for more than a day or two.” Anissa nodded, confirming his statement. “That knowledge was his second wish. He will find me and soon. He always has. Then he will give me the option of breaking the curse. When I refuse, he will do one of a number of things. Most times he simply forces the master into hurrying his wishes, sending me back to my prison. Other times, if he was convinced that the master was unpleasant enough, he has done nothing, leaving me suffer through the situation.” “Like the eight-year run with the old man.” Anissa nodded, though David had not really asked a question. “And the time in Chicago. My master there worked for a man named Capone. I was glad to go back in the box then, as well. Fortunately for me, there was a contract out for his death and he used his wishes to flee the country.” Dave fought the urge to go kill something with his bare hands. “Son of a—” “Already dead, Dave.” Montoya held up a hand to stem Dave’s outburst. He turned to Anissa. “What happens to the box after you end up back inside?” She shook her head, her pretty black hair falling all around her face and torso. “I have not the faintest idea. I assume it simply sits until someone else solves the puzzle.” “You’ve never had it pass among friends or family members, the one telling the other how to work it?” She shook her head. “I do not believe so. There was a father and son once but it was many, many years in between. I think perhaps that the solution changes each time, so it cannot be handed down, so to speak.”

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Ben nodded. “Most magic comes with some checks and balances, so that makes an odd sort of sense.” Ben was the folklore expert, the most knowledgeable of the bunch about that sort of thing, so Dave accepted his opinion. Wesley murmured an agreement. “Well here’s a question, Dave. Where did you get the box?” What did that have to do with anything? Oh well, they were just fishing anyhow, might as well answer. “A little curio shop over on the gulf coast, Thanksgiving weekend. Some little punk was trying to rob the older lady who ran the place, so I stopped him. She wouldn’t press charges but she gave me the box as a thank-you.” “She say anything about where she got it?” Dave thought for a second, then shook his head. “No. But it was kind of funny, now that I think about it. She got a little weird when I held up the box and said it was something my sister might like for her birthday. She said no, that the box was for me and handed me a vase for Jenna. Then she said to keep it for a year and if I didn’t want it after that, to bring it back for something else.” “Maybe we should try to contact her,” Wes suggested. “She might know something helpful.” “What was her name? She could be related to one of my previous masters.” He almost forgot to answer the question, he was so busy enjoying the sight of those liquidviolet eyes gazing at him like he had all the answers in the universe. “Miriam.” Dave had to pause to think about the last name, so he watched as if in slow motion while the blood drained from Anissa’s face and her jaw dropped. Her hand went limp in his when he said the last name. “Miriam Lazlo.” “It cannot be.” Her whisper was so silent even he barely heard it. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He picked up her ice-cold hand with both of his and started rubbing it to get the blood flowing again. “You know the name?” “Not as such.” Her voice shook almost as much as her hand did. “But Miriam was my mother’s name. And she called my father Lazlo.” After she’d dropped that little bombshell, they’d discussed endless possibilities without coming to any decent conclusions except that they’d be trying to contact the little antique store as soon as the holidays were over. Eric had popped out for two minutes at about ten thirty to tell them things were still moving along. He looked like hell but Dave noticed he could hardly wait to get back inside. Dave wasn’t sure whether he pitied the man or envied the hell out of him. Maybe both. That had been close to an hour ago. Wes had conned some orderly out of a deck of cards and now they were in the middle of teaching Anissa the finer points of euchre. She might not have the education of the others at the table but she was wickedly smart and had just finished taking all five tricks with an iffy hand and little help from her

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partner, Dave. It was her turn to deal, so laughing off Wesley’s good-natured snipes, Anissa picked up the deck and started to shuffle. “Oooh.” She dropped the cards and pressed one hand to her mouth. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing serious, at least I do not believe so. It is just your friend. That last one hurt. And she is so very, very tired.” “How can you tell?” “You can feel her from here?” David’s question came right on top of Wesley’s but he didn’t care about manners right now. “You three are so connected to her, I can sense her through you. The child is close but Mrs. Gordon is growing quite weak.” Anissa wrung her hands together, obviously distressed. “Can you help her?” “I do not know. I have only a very small healing ability. I helped a few of the women back in the seraglio but I was always with them, able to make direct contact. I do not think they will allow that here.” Dave could see the struggle on Anissa’s face as she tried to figure out a way to help. He turned to Wes and Ben. “Anissa’s a healer. She managed to feed Lori some strength at the party, though it pretty much wiped her out. If she says Lori’s in trouble, then she is.” “Maybe Ben could charm one of the nurses to let us in.” Wes chewed on her lip and looked at her boyfriend. Ben shook his head. “I’ve got a better idea. You said she’s connected to all of us. You can feel her through that?” Anissa nodded, her eyes pleading with David to find a way for her to help. “What about if we all join hands? Would that strengthen the contact enough for you to make a link?” Duh. Dave slapped his hand on his knee. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Damn if Montoya hadn’t come up with the right answer again. Anissa’s eyes narrowed as she thought. Then she nodded and gave a tiny shrug. “We can try.” She reached out her hands to Ben and Wesley on either side of her. Dave opened his mouth to object but Anissa stopped him with a rueful smile. “They are closer to Lori, while your bond is more with her husband. Your task is just to lend me support.” Hell, how could he object to that? “Anyone looking will think we’re all just praying or something.” Wesley grinned. “I guess they won’t be too far off.” “Not far at all, corazón.” Ben gave Dave a sheepish look and took his hand, while Wesley claimed his other. It was worth holding hands with another guy just to see Anissa smile and mouth the words “thank you” to him across the card table.

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Anissa closed her eyes and David could practically feel the vibrations in the atmosphere as she focused on people and events she couldn’t even see, let alone touch. But the energy that pulsed through their circle of hands was real and Dave could feel the static charge making the hairs on his arms stand up and even the tail at the nape of his neck felt alive. “Yesssss.” He saw the look of rapt concentration on Anissa’s lovely face ease into a smile at the same time as he felt a wave of weakness pass through his arms, a brief moment of crushing fatigue. She’d drawn energy from him, he realized, to send to Lori. Probably from all of them, since Wes and Ben both swayed as well. A few seconds later, Anissa opened her eyes and dropped the hands she held. “We have succeeded. The babe was turned just a bit, but now it is aligned and your friend has enough strength to finish the task.” “Thank God. Or the goddess. Either, both, I don’t care. Whichever works.” Wes said what they were all thinking. “You channeled energy from all of us didn’t you?” Leave it to Ben to have to analyze the magic. Anissa nodded. “I am sorry. I know should have asked. But I needed more than just my own and I did not wish to draw it all from David.” “No, that’s good. We all wanted to help.” Wes lifted a bottle of water to her lips with only slightly shaky hands. “Thank you. Lori is very dear to us all and we are glad you could use us to help.” Montoya lifted Anissa’s hand and kissed it in a courtly gesture that almost had Dave rising out of his chair. “Knock of the Latin charm, toots. You’re pissing David off.” Wesley rolled her eyes and grinned, lifting her feet to the card table so she could lounge back in her chair. “And nobody wants to clean up all the spilled testosterone after that fight.” That put both of them in their place. Dave flipped Wes off while Montoya laughed. Then Dave turned his eyes on Anissa and was out of his chair before he knew what he was doing. He caught Anissa’s slumping form in his arms before she could slip out of the chair to the floor. “Hey Wes, hand me that water.” She thrust the bottle into his hand without a word. Anissa’s eyes were still fluttering open, so she hadn’t passed out completely. He sat on the floor with her in his lap and held the bottle to her lips. “Didn’t switch power sources quite soon enough, did you?” She sipped obediently and opened her eyes but didn’t answer his question. “Everything all right over there?” Great. An orderly passing through noticed Anissa’s near faint. “We’re just tired,” Wesley told the man, batting her big baby blues. “But is there a candy machine or something near here? My friend is a little hypoglycemic.”

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He pointed. “Down the hall, through the double doors and to your left.” Then he picked up his tray and continued on his way. “Good catch.” Dave’s heart rate started to slow back to normal as he watched a trace of color creep back into Anissa’s face. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and tossed it to Wes. “Food seems to help her recover. Anything with protein and lots of carbs. She eats a lot.” “Way to be suave, pal.” Ben slapped his hand on Dave’s shoulder and stood to escort his girlfriend down the hallway. “Back in a minute.” “I just said that because I was hungry.” Wesley’s wry remark drifted back over her shoulder as she left. Dave was glad to see Anissa manage a weak smile. “You are all insane in this century are you not?” He grinned back. “Pretty much. But at least we’re not suicidal. Pull from me earlier next time, damn it. You scared the crap out of me there.” “Yes, master.” But there was a tiny giggle with the words, so he figured she wasn’t pissed. By the time Ben and Wes returned with several pounds of junk food, Anissa had finished the water and was sitting up on her own, though they were both still on the floor and Anissa leaned against his side. He tried not to notice how right and natural it felt to have her there. Wes and Ben dropped their offerings into a pile on the table. Wes grimaced at the mound of salt, sugar and preservatives. “We didn’t know what you liked, so we got some of everything.” Dave ripped the wrapper off a packet of peanut butter crackers and handed one to Anissa. “Start with these.” She did. Dave helped himself to a candy bar, motioning for Ben and Wes to do so as well. Ben popped the top on a can of cola and placed it on the table in front of Anissa. “Sugar and caffeine. Those should help.” Fifteen minutes later, the mound of food had been reduced to a pile of wrappers. Anissa covered a dainty belch with her hand. “I think Twinkies and Coca-Cola must be the foods of the gods. Thank you, all of you. This was quite a feast. They all laughed, then stopped abruptly as a beaming Eric stepped out of the delivery room area. He snagged one of the remaining candy bars and wolfed it down in two bites as he slid into Dave’s abandoned chair. “It’s a boy.” His proud grin was wider than his face, even though he looked exhausted. “Phillip Drake Gordon. Seven pounds, two ounces. Mother and son are both doing fine.” Then he drew in a deep breath and shuddered. “Thank God that’s over.” Wes and Ben enveloped him in a simultaneous hug and Dave felt the sting of tears behind his own eyes. “There were a few hairy minutes a little while ago. Apparently he got turned or something and Lori was about wiped out. They were starting to talk drugs or surgery

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or something. Then it was the weirdest thing. She just perked back up, gripped my hand like a stevedore and went back to work. Like she’d just gotten a total second wind.” The four visitors exchanged knowing looks. They’d fill Eric in later but not now. For tonight he deserved to just bask. “Here.” Dave handed Eric his own barely touched soda. “Caffeine good.” “Amen, brother.” Eric downed the can in a half-dozen swallows. “Now back to work. Thanks guys. Knowing you were out here, it meant a lot.” Dave nodded, then stood to give his friend a pat on the back. “Congrats, bud. Really.” Eric gave Dave his crooked grin and nodded back. There was a half second of awkwardness, then Dave thought what the hell? He wrapped his friend in a bear hug and squeezed. Anissa was so proud of David it almost brought tears to her eyes. Society had not changed that much, she was certain. It still took a great deal of courage for one man to hug another in public. The two were obviously brothers of the heart if not the blood. They stayed long enough for a five-minute visit with the new mother and a fleeting glimpse of the red-faced infant. Then they walked with Wesley and Ben down to the hospital entry and were nearly out the door when the security guard looked at the television mounted high on the wall of a seating area. “Hey everybody, it’s one minute to midnight.” They all paused, as did the one or two other groups passing through the lobby. Sure enough, on the television screen was a scene of a large clamoring group of people standing shoulder to shoulder and watching an enormous glowing orb that seemed to hover over the city streets. Numbers on the corner of the screen flashed the countdown to the New Year. When it reached ten seconds, the orb slowly descended and everybody began to chant. “Ten. Nine, Eight…” As she stared at the nearly unbelievable program, she barely registered the fact that David had snaked an arm around her. He slipped his hand up under her fluffy pink coat and clamped it around her waist. When the chanting crowd reached one, everybody on the screen and in the lobby yelled, “Happy New Year!” Then David bent his head and kissed Anissa, soundly on the lips. It was long, wet and intimate and it caught her so off guard that she forgot all about where they were and that they had an audience as her body melted into his. She stumbled on her high heels when David finally released her lips and he caught her tight against his chest. When she heard the smattering of applause from the guard, David’s friends and whoever else was watching, she hid her face in his wool-covered chest. “Happy New Year, Anissa.” The chuckle that accompanied David’s softly spoken words vibrated through his chest. “If we play this right, this year should mean the start of a whole new you. Not that I’m objecting to the old one.” 66

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He held onto her hand as they walked out to the parking area, waiting patiently as Anissa halted a moment to marvel at the massive electric lights that illuminated the area. “Do you think this wizard guy will show up tonight?” Ben paused with his hand on the door of a sleek silver sports car. David looked at Anissa. “Well?” “I do not know. But probably not. It usually takes him several days.” Wesley tapped her cheek thoughtfully. “Does he zero in on you? Or on the box? ‘Cause we could always ditch the box somewhere. It might at least slow him down.” “Good idea, Wes.” David nodded, then turned to Anissa. “What do you think?” She shook her head. “I do not know. But the box is magical. I do not think it can change hands once it is opened. I believe it will return to David no matter what, until his wishes are done. So it does not matter if it is me or the box.” “You could crash at our place tonight.” Ben’s offer was warm and genuine and Anissa smiled. She had not spent time with people this kind in—well—centuries. David shook his head. “Dude, there’s probably still a party going on at your place. No thanks. She said it should be a few more days, anyway. And out at the farmhouse, there won’t be anyone else around to get confused if magic starts flying.” His face and voice hardened. “Or hollow points.” Ben shot David a sharp glance. “Try to keep guns out of it, m’ijo. Won’t do her any good if you end up in jail.” “Guns?” Anissa’s gaze flew to David’s face. “Who said anything about guns?” “Hollow points are a type of bullet,” Wesley explained. “Ben and Dave are exmilitary. They’re both pretty good with things that go boom.” Ha. He was a warrior. She had known it all along. She would not object to someone putting a bullet in Murdoch’s head but she most certainly did not want David to go to prison for her. “Anyway,” David continued, “I emailed Drake, since he’s our magic expert. Maybe we can just have him eat the bastard.” Again, the mention of this man, Drake. “Who is he? You keep speaking of your friend Drake. Is he such a powerful man? A wizard perhaps?” Another wizard to go up against Murdoch, now that would be helpful. The three friends all laughed and David squeezed Anissa’s hand. “Drake isn’t a man at all. Drake’s a dragon.”

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Chapter Seven “So the rules say you’re supposed to do everything I tell you until my wishes are granted, right?” They were back in Dave’s kitchen, sharing one last beer since they hadn’t had a chance for their New Year’s toast. Anissa cast him a wary look from under her absurdly long black lashes and answered hesitantly. “Yes.” “So why haven’t you told me what I need to do to set you free? I know I’ve asked you more than once.” She fiddled with the label on her beer bottle, peeling the corner away from the glass. “Because it is too dangerous.” “Well answer me this, then. Do you want to be free?” Her eyes widened and brightened to the point where the tears almost seemed to be brimming over. Her voice came out as a husky whisper. “More than anything else in the world.” “So if we can set things up with some reasonable safeguards, will you tell me the process?” Biting her lower lip, she nodded. “Okay then I’ll let that go for now. Here’s another question for you. Why did I see you in August at the tournament? The day I got the box, I swear I saw you, tried to find you. Were you out of the box then, or am I just delusional?” A wash of pink tinted her fair skin. “I sent you a vision, I suppose. To me, it was a dream. For a while I had been dreaming, sensing that someone was coming who would solve the riddle and set me free.” He couldn’t help feeling a rush of pride that he’d been the one. If she’d sensed him before he ever opened the box, maybe fate had chosen him to be the one to set her free. It was a hell of a responsibility but he figured he was up to it. With a little help from his friends. “What about the dreams?” He felt the heat of a flush rising on his own face and wished like hell he still had his beard to hide it, as he remembered the subject matter of those dreams. Anissa’s must have run along pretty similar lines, because she stared intently at her beer bottle, her face now flaming a bright rosy pink. “I do not know,” she confessed in a tiny, slightly husky voice. “That has never happened before.” Good. It pissed him off enough that there had been other men who’d effectively lived with her. It was nice to know he was the first to share her erotic dreams.

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“I have a question of my own, if I may.” He nodded. “Is your friend Drake really a dragon?” Dave grinned. “Yup. Big, bronze and scaly.” “Do you think he can help?” It was the first note of real hope he’d heard in her voice and Dave felt like a skunk for not being able to give her an unqualified yes. “It depends. Last I heard, he was somewhere in Asia, looking for other dragons. I don’t know if he can get back here easily or not. There are lots of hazards in the air these days for something that’s roughly the size of a small plane.” Anissa set down her beer bottle and shook her head. The light cast sparks of her dark curls as they tumbled around her shoulders and Dave had to fight to keep his hands from reaching for it. “There is so much I do not understand. I have spent longer periods in the box before but things, society, had never changed quite so much.” This time he had to reach across the table to take her hand. “Technology has grown at an exponential rate in the last several decades. Don’t beat yourself up because you haven’t learned everything in a single day.” “I cannot go back, you know.” “Back where?” She shifted gears so fast sometimes, he had trouble keeping up with her. “To my homeland, the realm of the Djinn. In that world, I am still considered the property of my grandfather, or even Murdoch.” Oh yeah, he was going to let that happen—not. “Your grandfather is still alive?” She nodded. “I presume so. Djinn age much more slowly than humans. Many live for two or three thousand years.” “Wow.” So much for any vague fantasies he had of keeping her. Maybe she’d stick with him for a while but he’d want her to be long gone before he was using a walker or wearing diapers. “So if I were freed, I would have to stay here, in this world. But how would I manage to survive? I have no money, none of those little plastic cards you used to pay at the store, no home.” She slumped over the table, leaning her chin on her hands. “And all the women here have educations and professions that take years to obtain. Perhaps I should simply give up this notion of freedom. It is clear I will never fit in this century.” “Knock it off.” He tried and failed to keep the flash of irritation out of his voice. When he heard it, he forced himself to throttle back. “You’ll be fine. First of all, don’t forget you have magic. That’s a big asset. Secondly, I’ve got more than enough money to get you started, you can pay me back later. And we’ll figure out the education thing. Not everyone goes to school, though. You’ve only met a fairly small sample.” She nodded, but the clouded expression in her eyes told him she didn’t really believe him. He was trying to figure out what to say next when he cut loose with a yawn that damn near shook the walls of the house. 69

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“Damn. It’s after three. And we didn’t get much sleep last night, either. What do you say we hit the sack and worry about all this stuff when it’s daylight?” A tiny smile twitched at the corners of her luscious lips. “I am sure, for the most part, that you are speaking English but sometimes it does not sound like it.” Dave laughed. “Yeah, well, when I get tired, I forget about all those years of education and revert. How about this then? It’s late. We’re tired. Let’s go to bed.” He plucked the empty beer bottle out of her hand, then stood up and set both empties on the counter by the sink. She stood, her movements so graceful Dave had to look away, though he was thankful as all hell for the pleated front of his good wool pants. “I’ll just get my stuff out of the bedroom,” he muttered. “Then you can have it all to yourself.” While he’d be on the pullout, sulking about it. He froze when he felt her hand on the back of his shoulder. “We could share.” His already hard cock got even harder. He spun and caught both of her hands in his then searched her face to see if she’d meant what it sounded like. Her expression was open and ripe with honest invitation and Dave felt like pounding his chest. But… Goddess, he was an idiot but he was about to turn her down. His balls and cock were screaming in frustration but his conscience won the fight. “Sex is just part of the deal, isn’t it? Just one of the services you provide your socalled masters?” She nodded, dropping her eyes to the hardwood floor. “It has been, yes.” “Then, thanks but no thanks.” Her eyes flew back up to meet his. “But why? I thought…” “You thought I wanted you?” His hands tightened on hers to the point where it must have hurt. He heard the gruff huskiness in his own voice but he couldn’t do anything about it. “Yes.” “I do.” Goddess, what a fucking understatement. Every cell in his body ached with desire for her. He’d wanted her since before he knew she was real and he’d been at least half hard since she’d popped out of the damn box, even five minutes after he’d jacked himself off. “But I don’t want a slave. When we do get horizontal together, I want to know you had a choice.” “But…” “And notice,” he added with a low growl. “I didn’t say if. I said when.” With those startled violet eyes gazing up at him, he very deliberately used their clasped hands to pull her close. Then he was slow about lowering his head, giving her more than enough time to react, to run away. All she did was lick her lips, then press her body closer to his, close enough that he could feel every sexy feminine curve, even through the layers of their clothes. Finally, she must have become impatient, because

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she stood on her tiptoes and stretched upward to close the gap, brushing her trembling lips against his. The kiss went from gentle to ravenous in nanoseconds, to the point where Dave might not have noticed if the whole damn house went up in flames. She tasted like nothing he’d ever known, like beer and sweat and that faint hint of licorice, all mixed together in the ultimate sensory package. Breathing was highly overrated. He didn’t want to let go for something as trivial as oxygen, but eventually he had to pull back before he ripped her clothes off and fucked her here on the kitchen floor. He stumbled as he stepped back, catching the corner of the archway against his shoulder and the pain jarred him out of the daze her kiss had left him in. She was panting heavily too, her lips flushed and swollen, her nipples tight points poking through her bra and top. “Good night, Anissa.” It took three tries to get the words out but he finally managed it. He clenched both hands on the archway behind him. “I do not understand you, Professor Garvaglia.” She’d managed to pronounce his last name right, which pleased him for no explicable reason. His short bark of laughter sounded rusty, even to him. He put his hands on her shoulders and steered her out the archway to the living room, giving her a gentle shove toward the stairs. “Then that makes two of us. Go to bed Anissa. Alone. And as your master, I’m ordering you to lock the damn door.” He watched as she moved slowly up the stairs, still shaking her head. He heard the click of the door latching shut, then the softer snick of the lock. Cursing himself for his idiotic sense of nobility, he went back to the kitchen for another beer. Or six.

***** Anissa woke more rested than she had any right to feel after her tumultuous night. It was the first day of a new year and for the first time in centuries, she just might have a year to look forward to. She strolled over to the closet, where David had insisted she hang her new clothes. Since his wardrobe seemed to consist mostly of t-shirts and baggy trousers, the huge closet had been more than half empty. Seeing her things hanging beside his sent a strange thrill down her spine. She still could not believe he had turned her down the night before. She knew he wanted her, she had felt the proof of that pressed against her belly when he had kissed her. He was just being noble and it was as frustrating as it was endearing. She stared at selection of garments. From what she had seen in the magazines, these things were inexpensive and casual but Anissa loved each and every one of them. They were hers. It had been so longs since she had been allowed to choose her own clothing. She could hardly decide which to wear first. The farmhouse was chilly, so she settled on jeans and a sweater, with one of her lacy sets of underclothes beneath. David might believe he was going to resist her but 71

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she wondered what he would think of her in nothing but the little scraps of bright pink silk. She was determined that sometime today, she was going to find out. She showered with the luxurious almond-scented soap she’d selected, then pampered her hair with the rich sudsy shampoo and deep conditioning treatment that had been recommended by another woman in the aisle with long curly hair. She stood there until the water began to run cool, then rinsed out her hair and dried off with a thick fluffy towel. She shook her head and smiled. The man must spend more on his linens than on his entire wardrobe. Thick, creamy body lotion that smelled of apricots soothed her freshly scrubbed skin, especially her legs, which she had painstakingly shaved the day before. The magazine had shown all the women with smooth, bare legs. With such a short skirt, she had not wanted to stand out and for some reason had not wanted to resort to magic to satisfy her needs. Fortunately, the stretchy black pantyhose she’d worn had hidden the dozen or so little nicks she had given herself. She combed out her wet hair and left it loose to dry, then dressed, adding a touch of the purple pencil around her eyes. She had no idea what David had planned for the day but she couldn’t help wanting to look nice, just to see the gleam of approval in his eyes. Eyes that looked at her as a person, not just a toy. She still could not hear any sound coming from the lower portion of the house, so after she made the bed and tidied the bathroom, she left her shoes off and walked down the stairs as quietly as she could, wincing when the old wooden boards gave a creak. When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she saw him and something in her chest twisted painfully. He had fallen asleep sitting on the sofa, where he still sprawled, his head thrown back against the suede cushions and his feet up on the cocktail table. A half-empty beer bottle sat near his feet and a funny-shaped plastic object with buttons lay next to his outflung hand. He still wore the sweater and trousers he had worn to the party. Redbrown stubble darkened his chin, which was the most handsome feature of his face, strong and square. She wished he would not hide his looks with that sloppy beard. His toes twitched as he snored and Anissa jumped to rescue the imperiled beer bottle. When she moved closer, she could see that the television was frozen, displaying a drawing of a dungeon, over which the words “Game Over” were emblazoned. She shook her head and carried the bottle through to the kitchen, moving as quietly as possible. There was still so much to learn. But one thing that she could do was cook. She had watched enough to know how the stove burners operated and the heavy iron frying pan was a tool that had not changed much over the years. She plucked the biggest pan off a hook on the wall and placed it over a lit burner. Then she rummaged in the icebox for bacon, eggs and butter. Outside the big glass window, the sun was shining brightly, reflecting off the thin layer of snow that covered the ground. This part of Michigan was not that different from the border region between England and Scotland where she had spent a good many years, she reflected. Wooded and hilly, with numerous small lakes. The buildings and roads were different but the land was similar and even pulsed with that same 72

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magical quality she had always found in her fens. David had called this area the Irish Hills, said it had been settled by dispossessed Celts because it reminded them of home. Anissa could well believe it. She had heard a song at the party last night, an old, old ballad that had been speeded up and shouted by one of David’s “punk rock” bands, as he called them. She had been a bit horrified but had to admit, the harder, faster beat was sort of appealing. She hummed the tune while she fried bacon, then used the same pan to cook the eggs. Since she already knew David was a hearty eater, she scrambled up the whole dozen. At last she had a chance to do something for him. David woke up with a crick in his neck, a knot in his lower back and an aching left knee, which usually hurt, since he’d messed it up too many times to count. But the others weren’t standard. Where the hell had he fallen asleep? All of this, however, was countered by the incredible scent of frying bacon. Enjoying it, he didn’t bother to open his eyes, afraid it was the relic of a dream and would disappear on full awakening. A sexy contralto voice was singing, “Will ye go, lassie, go…” so softly he could just make out the tune. Oh yeah, a guy could get used to waking up like this. It was the most utterly damn domestic combination he could imagine and therefore it was absolutely impossible that this was real. It wasn’t so much that Dave didn’t do domestic, as that domestic harmony didn’t do Dave Garvaglia. But as the fog began to clear, he started to figure out where he was, when it was and why he was here. It was New Year’s Day. He was sleeping upright on his couch, game controller still at hand and there was a drop-dead gorgeous Djinni cooking bacon in his kitchen. Which must make him Major-freaking-Nelson. He scrubbed at his eyes with his hands and groaned. Not a role he was cut out for, damn it. He’d always been way more of a Roger Healy kind of guy. The comic relief sidekick—that was him. So what the hell was he supposed to do next? As he stretched and tried to unkink his knotted up muscles, he gradually recalled the rest of the previous night and he broke out in a grin so wide it almost hurt. He was a goddamn uncle! Or as close to it as he was ever likely to be. He’d have to give Eric a call later today, make sure everything was still okay. Since Anissa was singing in the kitchen that meant his bathroom was free. He looked down at his wrinkled party clothes and shook his head in disgust. He was such a slob. After one look around the bathroom, though, he grabbed his toothbrush and shampoo and fled. His territory had been taken over by unidentified feminine objects. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to know what all those bottles of goop were for. He scooped up some clean clothes as he passed through his bedroom, then showered in the hall bath. Less than ten minutes later, he was back downstairs. Anissa was still in the kitchen and Dave paused in the archway, just watching as she transferred a huge mound of scrambled eggs from a cast-iron frying pan into a

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stainless steel bowl. A plate piled high with bacon already sat in the middle of the table and Dave felt his stomach rumble in anticipation. She was still humming, this time a song he didn’t know and her hips, which were encased in a pair of gloriously tight jeans, were swaying in time with the tune and his cock reacted to that by straining against his zipper. It was all he could do not to walk over and fill his hands with her delectable little cheeks. When she turned toward the table, she spotted him and shrieked and spun, the frying pan lifted in a threatening gesture. Then she scowled at him, set the pan back on the stove and stuck her hands on her hips. “Do not do that again.” “Sorry.” He held up his hands. “What’s for breakfast?” He wasn’t sorry at all, but he tried to keep the snicker out of his voice. He knew it was as clichéd as hell but damn, she was cute when she was pissed. She rolled her eyes. “Why do I not believe you?” Still shaking her head, she moved the bowl of fluffy yellow eggs to the table. Figuring he’d better make it up to her if he wanted to eat, he got out plates and silverware, then poured two mugs of coffee from the automatic drip machine he’d set up the night before. Then just to be on the safe side, he held out her chair, just as she came over to the table with a plate full of toast. “Thank you.” She smiled up at him as she took the seat, her violet eyes twinkling. “Did you sleep comfortably?” His face flamed. Of course she’d had to walk right past him to get to the kitchen. He only hoped he hadn’t snored, or even worse drooled as she walked by. He returned her grin. “Not great. How about you?” She helped herself to some eggs, then passed him the bowl. “Very well, I’m afraid. Please do not—” Sensing she was about to get stubborn about the sleeping arrangements, Dave decided to make an end run around the subject. He handed her the bacon and interrupted. “Today we’re going to go buy a bed for the guestroom. And maybe a dresser and stuff.” “But—” He plowed ahead, looking at the beat up table between them. “And maybe a table and chairs for in here. Ones that match.” “I am a servant. You do not need to buy things for me.” Her voice was rising. “You’re not a freaking servant.” She didn’t look impressed but the impact might have been reduced by his mouthful of food. He tried the eye-rolling thing on her but apparently it didn’t work in reverse. “Look, I know I need stuff in the house, okay? It’s not just for you. I moved in less than two weeks ago and I haven’t had time to go shopping yet. But Ben and Wes are coming over later and it might be nice to have a place for them to sit.” Never mind that both of them had been here for their weekly poker game and hadn’t minded camp chairs.

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He filled his mouth with eggs and closed his eyes to savor the taste. When was the last time anyone had cooked him breakfast? Well, there was the B and B where he’d stayed in England. And Jenna and Liv, the last time he’d been in Arizona. But just breakfast for two? Hell, if it ever had happened before, he couldn’t remember it. By the time he loaded the dishwasher, he was the one humming. It occurred to him briefly that the stores might not be open on New Year’s but a quick glance at yesterday’s paper dispelled that notion. Apparently, he was in for a major sales extravaganza. Whatever. Though he wasn’t going to turn his nose up at some savings. It was worth fighting the crowd just to see Anissa’s face when they walked into the discount furniture barn. “Why is everything in this time so huge?” “I don’t know, but bigger doesn’t always mean better.” He couldn’t even see the bedroom sets from where he was standing, so he held out his hand. “Might want to take off your coat. I think we’re gonna be here a while.” She was good at this. He watched her inspect every piece with a critical eye as they moved through the displays. She snorted with laughter when he pointed out a crisply modern black lacquer dining room set. “In your home?” She shuddered. “You wish to put that hideous monstrosity into your hundred-year-old farmhouse?” Hmmm, maybe not. But what did he know? He just shrugged. “Over there.” Still shaking her head, she steered him over to a sturdy but pretty oak set, with ladder-backed chairs. It was still simple, with clean lines but the glowing grain of the wood did look like it would fit more comfortably in his kitchen than the black stuff. Classic, he realized, running a hand across the smooth surface of the table. It wasn’t old-fashioned, it was classic. He tried to channel Jenna’s artistic eye for a second and almost laughed out loud. She’d have agreed with Anissa, Dave decided, except she’d have probably slugged him for suggesting the modern set in the first place, instead of just giving him that “men are so stupid” look, like Anissa was doing. In fact, now that he’d looked at this one, he couldn’t really imagine anything else in the space. An idea began to form in his head but he didn’t say anything. He’d just give it time to percolate. “Okay, this is it.” He crossed his arms and leaned against it, waiting for a sales person to swoop over and snag the commission, which took all of about three seconds. “Start writing this up, Bob,” Dave told the beaming salesman. “While we go look at bedroom sets.” This time he gestured for Anissa to take the lead. “Guestroom,” he told her. “Bed. Dressers. Whatever.” He waved a hand toward the displays. She homed right in on the one she wanted. It was another simple, classic style, nothing froufrou or fussy. Just straight lines and gleaming cherry finished wood. “This one, I think.” “Okay.” He motioned for Bob to join them.

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Anissa stuck her hands on her hips. “You’re not even going to examine it? What is wrong with you?” Dave shrugged. “I’m a guy?” Most women seemed to recognize that as affliction enough. Anissa snorted and rolled her eyes. But she narrowed them and smiled as Bob approached. “This is far too expensive.” Bob blinked. Then he smiled his sharky salesman smile and settled in to haggle. Dave just grinned, leaned back against the bedpost and left them to it. “Don’t forget we need the mattress set too, honey,” was his only contribution. Neither Dave nor Anissa had bothered to correct Bob’s assumption that she was “the missus”. Bob was looking shaky by the time Anissa was done with him and Dave hadn’t been so entertained in years. Not only had she wrangled an extra thirty percent discount on the price but she’d convinced the poor schmuck to throw in a pair of lamps, a rug and a funky carved elephant. Dave congratulated her on the victory as Bob sidled off to enter the sale into the store’s computer. “Bah. I should have talked him out of that oriental vase as well. But this will do.” She gave him a frown. “Now, if you will just replace that hideous wallpaper in your kitchen, it may actually become an attractive room.” Dave’s germ of an idea took root. “So replace it.” He shrugged. “Like I know anything about wallpaper.” “You want me to wallpaper your kitchen?” He could almost see the wheels turning behind her ridiculously long eyelashes. “No. I want you to tell me what wallpaper to buy. And paint and curtains. All that stuff.” She tipped her head in a mock bow. “As my master wishes.” Dave shook his head. She was thinking he’d finally gotten around to using her as a slave. As if. “Don’t give me any of that bullshit. I’m offering you a job, plain and simple. Interior design is big business these days.” “I do not understand.” “Wait,” Dave whispered, pasting on a smile as Bob approached. “All set folks.” The sharklike grin was mostly back in place but the salesman still regarded Anissa with an air of caution and respect. “We can arrange delivery next Monday.” “Monday?” Dave gulped at the thought of several more days without an extra bed. There was no way he could fit all of that in the Jeep, though. But Montoya had a pickup truck. “How about we take the bed and the dining room set today and have the rest delivered? Would that work?” Bob agreed and Dave called Ben. While they waited for Montoya, Dave tried to explain his idea to Anissa. 76

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“You said that a problem with being free is that you’d have no means of supporting yourself, right?” “That is correct.” She cocked her head and studied his face. “I suppose that being your housekeeper would be a respectable position. You could certainly use one.” Dave laughed, not caring that other customers in the store turned to look at them. “Yeah, I suppose I could. But that wasn’t what I had in mind. Not exactly. What I meant was for you to help me get the place fixed up—choose colors, pick out furniture, line up contractors, tell me what I need and all that. I’ll check online, find out what the going rate for an interior decorator is these days and pay you a regular salary. At least that will give you something to get started with while you figure out what you want to do.” “This is an actual profession in this time? You are not just making it up for my benefit?” Dave held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.” She didn’t need to know he’d never been a Boy Scout. “And you are aware that I am bound to honor any demands you make of my time until your wishes are granted. I would do this thing without any recompense if you simply ordered me to do so.” She spoke with slow deliberation and he wondered if she was testing his reaction. So even though he wanted to pound on someone every time she used the word slave, he kept his cool. “I know. I may not be the most altruistic guy on the planet but I do draw the line at slavery. So it’s simple. You work for me, I pay you. Do we have a deal?” She nodded and stuck out her hand. “Deal.” They shook on it just as Ben and Wes walked through the door.

***** A few hours later Anissa was seated with David’s friends around the brand-new table. Plates were piled high with spinach dip, spicy chicken wings and other finger foods that were apparently leftovers from the previous evening’s party. It was hard for even Anissa to remember that it had been less than forty-eight hours since David had opened the box. So much had happened in such a short time. “So you’re expecting this guy Murdoch to show up pretty soon?” Ben asked, not unkindly. He was perhaps the most handsome man she’d ever met, but his astonishing good looks didn’t make her heart race the way David’s craggy features did. What was wrong with her? “He rarely waits more than a few days.” “What does he do when he shows up?” Wesley’s lively intelligence was refreshing and fun. Anissa had spent so much time under male ownership, that she’d had little female company over the centuries.

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“His first step is usually to approach me and remind me that he has the power to remove the spell.” “He can try.” David’s voice was a deep bass rumble, one that was almost felt rather than heard. She decided to ignore it. “When I refuse to submit to him, he will often encourage my master to use his wishes quickly, forcing me to return to the box.” She sighed, toying with her food. “He can be very convincing.” “And I’m hard to persuade. What next?” She could well believe that. Anissa swallowed hard. “There have been times when he left me to my master’s devices. Usually if he was convinced the situation was— awkward for me.” Murdoch liked it when they used her as a domestic servant but even better when a master made her his sex slave. “So if he thinks your master is cruel, he goes away?” David rubbed his beardless chin thoughtfully. Anissa nodded. “Sometimes.” Once in a while he’d stuck around to join in the fun. David must have caught the shudder she’d tried to repress. “And others?” “It varies. A few of my masters have—befriended him. A wizard can be a useful ally.” “So he sticks around to keep up the torture.” “Yes.” “And what happens if you’re not unhappy in the situation?” Ben’s crisp tone severed the tension that stretched between David and Anissa and brought the two of them back to the group. Anissa turned her eyes down to the table, swallowed hard. “The one time he could not come to terms with a master who was kind, it was not—pleasant.” “Meaning?” That was David’s voice, low, growly, yet strangely encouraging. She didn’t want him hurt. Why couldn’t he just make his wishes and let her go? “Murdoch arranged for a series of accidents to befall him. He finally was forced to use wishes in order to walk and see again.” “Yow. This guy means business.” Wesley drummed her fingers on the table. “What would happen if by the time he found you, you were already free? Wishes done, spell broken?” “I do not know. He would be very, very angry. It would not be impossible that he would simply kill us both.” “With magic? Or would he use something more prosaic, like a gun or a knife?” Again, Wesley brought a practical point of view to the discussion. “Magic, most likely. He sees himself as being above the petty concerns of mere mortals and would prefer not to descend to that level.”

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“Do you think we could use a forgetfulness spell, like we did with Zimmerman?” Wesley pondered, munching on peanuts. Anissa felt her jaw drop. “You are mages? David said you were not.” “No.” Ben shook his head. “Drake was in danger and with his help we put together a spell to make this guy forget he’d ever heard about a dragon. But since he was as much of a novice as we were and there were five of us, plus Drake, he was seriously outgunned. This Murdoch won’t be.” “Three. Only three of you participated in the spell.” Wes looked daggers at her lover. “Only those of you with elven blood, remember? Dave and I were just backup.” Hmm. So much for her assumption that her hero would be part Fae. Funny that she did not for a moment consider that her champion might be Ben, even though he so closely fit the image she had held in her mind for so many years. No, even unkempt and cranky, David was definitely the one. “And let’s not forget, he almost killed Lori in the process,” Ben remarked gravely. “I’d rather not take those kinds of risks again with other people I care about.” Anissa gasped. “Of course not.” David crossed his arms over his chest and stretched his legs, pushing his chair back on two legs. He slipped his zippered black hoodie off his shoulders to reveal a shoulder holster over his t-shirt, then he drew the wicked-looking black handgun and laid it on the table in front of him. “Exactly. So here’s the plan. First. We take the damn box out into the woods and bury it. If his homing beacon is on the box instead of Anissa, it’ll take him longer to find us. Secondly. I do this.” He stared straight at Anissa, locking his gaze with hers. “Anissa. I am ordering you to tell me exactly what wishes need to be made to free you from the box. Now.” She nodded in misery. She did not have the luxury of choosing to defy a direct command. “You must wish me free of the box. You must wish that the magical connections between the box and myself be severed and if I am to continue living, you must wish me to resume my life as I am and in the present place and time.” “Thank you.” He gave her a crisp nod and a hard smile. “Slave, it is my wish that you be freed from your servitude. It is my wish that any and all connections between you, the box and Murdoch of the Moorlands be permanently severed. Finally, it is my wish that you resume your natural life as you are now, beginning in the present place and time. There, have I got it covered?”

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Chapter Eight “No!” It felt like the scream was being ripped from the very core of her soul. “What have you done?” She could not believe such a smart man had been so stupid. How could he? And yet beneath the flood of absolute terror, a tiny kernel of hope insisted on taking up residence in her heart. Stars and moon, could it actually work? The box belched a puff of its purple smoke and rattled on the tabletop for just an instant then stopped, inert. Anissa’s vision swirled as she sensed the metaphysical chains falling away. Gods and goddesses, was she finally free? She knew of at least one way to test the concept. It had been over eight centuries since she had crossed the veil that separated this world from her own. It would not be her homeland she found on the other side. She had moved too far geographically from her origins but she did not plan to linger. She stood, then allowed her lashes to flutter closed while she envisioned the veil between realities and called forth a gap. Without opening her eyes, she stepped through. “Anissa!” She heard David’s voice calling as though from a great distance. And perhaps it was. She opened her eyes and gazed around her into the mist, willing it to clear. When it did, she nearly wept with joy. She was most certainly in her native realm, though she believed this part of it belonged to the North American totem spirits rather than the Djinn. There were no walls surrounding her, only trees and the ground, devoid of snow, was carpeted with a fragrant layer of evergreen needles. Tears dripped down her cheeks. She was home, or at least in the realm where she had been born and reared. She knew she must not stay. There were treaties and rules regarding such things. There were agreements among the diverse clans and races that populated the Otherworld. Before being bound to the box, Anissa had been a sheltered child in her grandfather’s seraglio, monitored all the more for her mother’s indiscretions. She had crossed the veil to visit markets but only in the company of guards and chaperones. She had never known the protocol for traveling in another race’s territory and even if she had, it had undoubtedly changed during her centuries of servitude. Reluctantly, she summoned the veil and stepped back through to the farmhouse kitchen. David stood in the doorway with the lethal-looking firearm in his hand, looking out to the yard and calling her name. “I am here. You do not need to shout.” He spun around and laid the pistol on the orange countertop. He crossed to her in two long strides and grasped her upper arms with his hands, squeezing until it almost hurt. “Where the hell did you go? Damn it, I thought I’d killed you or banished you or 80

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something.” Then he crushed her to his chest in a great hug that left her unable to breathe. She allowed the embrace for a moment, burrowing her nose into the warmth of his skin through the thin undershirt. Then she pushed against his chest with her hands, forcing herself back just until she was able to speak. “The Djinn have the power to cross the veil that separates the world of mortals from the Otherworld. The box acts as an anchor, however and while I was bound to the box, I was unable to cross. When I felt the bonds fall away, I wished to test my freedom.” “And?” She pulled back a little more, far enough to look up into his face. Worry and relief warred in his furrowed brow and fierce blue eyes. They mesmerized her so deeply that it took her a moment to realize what he was asking. She nodded her head and offered him a tentative smile. “I am able to both summon the veil and to cross it. It seems your wishes have been granted.” “And no Murdoch anywhere in sight.” She shivered and welcomed the fact that his arms tightened around her. “Yet.” “Yet.” Now his eyes bored into hers. “But next time you decide to pull a disappearing act, give me a little bit of warning, will you?” She nodded. She’d almost forgotten the others were there until Ben spoke. “Is there any chance that Dave’s wish cancelled out Murdoch’s and that now he won’t be able to find you?” “I do not know. David’s wish did specify that all bonds between Murdoch, the box and myself be severed. I have never known the wishes of one master to directly counter those of a previous one before, so I am not certain of the outcome.” “We’ll more than likely find out.” David’s voice was firm and sure as he set Anissa away from him and nudged her back toward a chair. “What we need to do now is destroy the box. That thing’s like a ticking time bomb. We don’t want to leave it lying around so someone can use it against Anissa again. Or any other Djinni, for that matter.” Wesley picked up the box and examined it. “A shame to destroy such a work of art.” She sighed and handed it to David. “But you’re probably right.” David took the box. “I knew there was a reason I wanted a house with a fireplace. Now all we need is the marshmallows.” Once again Anissa understood the words but had no idea what he meant, other than that he intended to burn the box. Nodding happily at that thought, she followed him into the parlor—no, he called it the living room—and perched on the edge of a chair as he used wadded up newspapers to build a fire. Soon the papers blazed and he added several split logs until the entire room was filled with the glow and heat from the roaring flames.

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Anissa held her breath when David pulled back the protective screen and dropped her wooden prison into the heart of the blaze. Then he replaced the screen and stepped back to stand next to Anissa. He laced his fingers through hers in a gesture that seemed almost instinctive, as though he was unaware of his action. She clung to his hand tightly, watching for the box to ignite. Surely the fames would engulf it at any moment. They watched—nothing happened. The fire burned. The box did not. They all stared at the hearth until the four thick logs had burned themselves out. And yet the box endured. David used a pair of large iron tongs to pull it out of the still smoldering embers. It was coated with a layer of soot and ash but once it was wiped clean with a rag, they saw that the box was still perfectly intact. The blazing fire had not so much as scorched a corner of the wood. Anissa turned away. It was all she could do not to weep. “I’ve got an axe in the garage.” David sounded more angry than discouraged. “Worth a try,” Ben agreed. David did not even stop to fetch a coat and neither did the others. Hugging her arms around her chest, she followed them out the kitchen door to the carriage house— garage—behind the main dwelling. A stump sat on the ground beside the smaller building, its scarred surface giving testament to its use for splitting logs—as did the neatly stacked firewood nearby. David ducked into the garage and returned almost instantly carrying a large axe with a weathered wooden handle. The heavy iron head had lost most of its red paint but the metal edge was keen and gleamed from a recent honing. Good. Anissa and the others stood several yards back while David hefted the axe over his head with both hands and brought it down with a mighty heave. She tried to ignore the rippling muscles beneath his shirt as he moved and to focus on the axe. The force of the impact was evidenced by the deafening clang that resounded in her ears. “Son of a bitch.” David dropped the tool to the side and shook his arms as if in pain. “You okay?” Wesley sounded more curious than concerned but Anissa saw the furrow between the other woman’s eyebrows. “Yeah, just jarred.” David glared at the still pristine box. Then he looked at Montoya. “Dynamite?” Ben grimaced. “Maybe not. I think we should lock that sucker up somewhere while we do some more research.” David nodded grimly and picked up the box. “Gun safe.” They trooped back into the house and Ben followed David down into the cellar. The two men returned a few moments later without the box. Just after they had rejoined the 82

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women at the table, there was a knock on the kitchen door and David’s friend Eric let himself in. “Hey, am I missing a party?” “Don’t you have somewhere better to be?” David scowled but Anissa noticed that he immediately vacated his seat for his friend and strode to the icebox for a beer. Eric slumped into the chair and took the chilled bottle with a smile. His sandy hair stuck out in numerous directions, his spectacles were crooked and long lines of fatigue etched his friendly face but his grin was joyous. “Lori and Phillip are home and resting fine,” he announced. “And the place is currently being overrun by my in-laws. Female in-laws, mostly. So I fled for an hour.” He took a long swallow of the beer, smiled and sighed loudly. “Christ, I needed that. Happy fucking New Year.” They all clinked the necks of their bottles together and echoed the sentiment, except for Anissa who simply watched. “So what’s up?” Eric looked at the group and must have noticed their troubled faces. He stretched his long legs in front of him, then leaned back so his chair balanced on the rear two legs. David pulled up another chair from the far wall and plunked it between her and his friend. Then he straddled the seat and leaned his chin on the seat back. “I’m gonna need to hack Social Security.” At David’s announcement, Eric’s chair clattered and hit the ground. “What?” “No way.” Ben argued. Wesley nodded. “Probably.” “What is Social Security?” None of them paid any attention to Anissa’s question, they just kept talking. “And what does ‘hack’ mean?” “Dude that’s a major-league felony.” “Are you good enough?” “Why?” A loud whistle split the air. When Wes whistled, everyone shut up. Even Dave, though he’d just taken a mouthful of beer and it took him a second to stop choking and swallow. He hadn’t survived this long by being stupid. He knew when to shut up and listen to the general. “Okay, first—” Wesley sipped her beer and nodded to Anissa. “Social Security is the division of the United States government that issues identification numbers. Without one you run the risk of being deported as an illegal immigrant. Secondly, the word hack means to illegally access someone else’s computer. Since both David and Eric are computer experts, hacking is probably the best way to get you the identification

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you’ll need to stay in the country. Thirdly—” Now she pointed at Eric with the neck of her beer bottle. “Daddy over there has been a little busy for the last few days and is out of the loop. Turns out, Anissa here is a bit more like Drake than like the rest of us, if you get my drift. I don’t know why this particular group of lunatics seems to be a magnet for the supernatural but there you go. Now you—” The bottle jabbed at Dave. “Explain.” Given the timing, David had wanted to keep Eric out of it, figured the guy had enough on his plate right now. But if he was going to hack the Feds, he knew he was going to need to pick Eric’s brain first. Then when it came down to it, he’d make damn good and sure Eric wasn’t anywhere nearby. If Dave was going to end up in a federal prison, he was damn sure not going to be taking any of his friends with him. Especially the brand-new dad. Dave chugged the rest of his ale and rested his chin on the chair back, then closed his eyes. “Once upon a time there was a Djinni, who was trapped in a magical puzzle box by an evil wizard.” With occasional input from Anissa, he brought Eric up to speed, ending with the fact that Dave had just used his wishes to set her free and the failed destruction of the puzzle box. Eric listened in silence, nodding here and there. When they’d finished he took off his glasses and polished them with the hem of his sweatshirt before putting them back on and casting Anissa a quizzical look. “So why are you still here?” David started to answer, then made himself stop. As much as he wanted to stand between Anissa and the rest of the world, he knew that would be a bad idea in the long run. If she was going to stay in this time and place, she had to learn independence. If she wanted to be pampered and protected full-time, she could go back to her grandfather. So instead of speaking for her, he just sent her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “In my world, females are not free,” she began, pausing between each word, as if selecting it carefully. “Not free to be scholars or to live unwed if they so choose. I have very little value to my grandfather, who has already sold me once, into a union I found so horrific that I chose imprisonment in the box instead. Why would I wish to return to his power now?” Eric nodded. “Makes sense. Next question—if you’re free from the box, how much of your magic do you still have? Are you basically human now, or are you still a fullfledged Djinni but with no constraints?” Ow! Dave hadn’t even thought of that. Just how much power did she have now? He knew she could still hop over to the other dimension. “I imagine I retain those powers that I had before my incarceration. I can move objects, change the appearance of things and so on.” She broke off and Dave wondered what other power she’d decided not to list. There was something she wasn’t telling them.

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“So could you make yourself some identification so Dave doesn’t have to violate half a dozen federal laws?” Anissa bit her lip and Dave wanted to intervene, to assure her he didn’t mind the risk but she spoke first. “I could make a piece of paper look like a passport, if that is what you mean. Or any other kind of document. But it would not be real, if you take my meaning. There would be nothing behind it if someone were to check further. And I do not know what a computer is, so I do not know if I can access it with magic.” “You know, a passport might be an even better idea,” Ben postulated. “Especially if we make it from some little country with lousy computers and backward recordkeeping. They would be easier to hack than the US and it would also explain why she sometimes makes mistakes with technology and so on.” “Good point.” Wes smiled at her boyfriend. “Though he’d have to make sure INS had a record of her entering the country.” “True and with Homeland Security what it is these days, I’m not sure that would be any easier,” Eric pointed out. “Well, we’ve got a few days before classes start back up to figure it out. Hopefully in that time we can also come up with a solution to the evil wizard problem.” Once he went back to work, he wouldn’t be able to watch her twenty-four/seven to make sure she was okay. And he wasn’t about to leave her alone if there was any reason to think that Murdoch might still be after her. Meanwhile, Anissa had apparently decided it was time to test her powers. An apple that had been sitting in a bowl on the counter suddenly vanished, then reappeared in her hand. She held it up with an ear-to-ear grin. “Some of my powers are still here. I will not be totally helpless.” “Have you thought about what you’re going to do in this century?” Wesley asked. She was often the most practical one. Sometimes Dave thought that the blonde bombshell hadn’t always had an easy life. From little snippets she’d let drop in the nine months they’d known each other, Dave sort of got the idea that Wes’ childhood just might have been something like his own. “David has been kind enough to offer me a position,” she answered, eyes downcast. His friends all tried to smother smiles or knowing leers until she added. “As his internal decorator.” “Interior designer,” he corrected with a laugh, as everyone else lost it. “Well good.” Wesley wiped a tear from her eye when she stopped laughing too hard to speak. “Lord knows he could use the help. And if you helped him pick out this table and chairs, I’d say you’re qualified.” “She did,” Dave affirmed. He was proud of her, damn it, even if he didn’t have any real right to be. “Plus the stuff for upstairs and more arriving Monday. He gestured at the table. “But isn’t this great? I thought she was going to slug me when I pointed at the black Asian set.”

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“Well it sure beats the old one.” Eric shuddered and chuckled. “Though I can’t say any of my stuff was any better. Most of our furniture came from Lori’s place.” “And the house could sure use some new paint and paper,” Ben agreed. “But the bones of it are gorgeous. It would be practically criminal to leave Dave in charge.” “Hey, wait a minute there—” It wasn’t that he took any offense at the kidding, not really. But form required some rebuttal. It said so right in the guy’s etiquette handbook. When insulted, shoot back. Or at least flip the bugger off. But his token protest was brought up short by Anissa. “It is his home and if he prefers black plastic furniture, he may have black plastic furniture. All I did was to point out another option he had not yet noticed. The choice was his.” Wes smothered a grin while the guys didn’t bother to hide their amusement at her ferocious defense. The laughter continued until Eric managed to break it up with a bone-cracking yawn. “Seems to me like a nap would’ve been more productive than running out here.” Dave had seen Eric like this after all-night programming sessions, so he wasn’t too worried. He jerked his thumb toward the stairs. “You wanna crash upstairs for a while?” Eric checked his watch then shook his head. “No, I’m supposed to pick up dinner on my way home, so I’d better get moving. Thanks for the beer, though.” “Do you want us to stick around in case Murdoch shows up tonight?” Ben asked Dave as they all walked Eric out to his car. Dave shared a glance with Anissa. He could see the fear in her eyes, warring with her reluctance. And there was something else—the sizzle they’d both been trying to ignore all day. And now she wasn’t a slave. Finally he shook his head. “Keep your cell on, if you don’t mind. But he could show up tonight, or next year, or never. It’s doesn’t make sense to barricade ourselves in the house waiting for something that might never happen.” They all promised Eric that they would drop by and see Lori within the next few days and then all his guests were on their way. Except for Anissa. She stood in the doorway beside him silent but smiling warmly and waving as his friends drove away. “I think you should conjure yourself a passport.” He closed the door and motioned her to a seat across from him on the sectional. Now that they were alone, he needed to stay well away from her tempting curves if he was going to stop himself from jumping her on the living room couch. “Do you have one I can study, so I know what it should look like?” He thought a minute. “Yeah but only one from the US. Damn it. We’ll need to get a hold of one from whatever country we decide you’re from.”

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“That would be best.” She looked down at her hands, which were playing with the hem of her heathery gray sweater. The soft yarn clung to her curves and Dave fisted his hands in the couch cushions. The idea hit like a thunderbolt, making him feel like an idiot for not having thought of it sooner. He smacked himself on the forehead. “Duh. The internet. I’ll bet we can find pictures of a passport online somewhere!” He leapt up off the couch and held out a hand to help her up. “Come on.” He dragged her into one of the first-floor bedrooms and Anissa saw more of the plastic and metal boxes like the ones that made music and heated food. One that looked like the television sat on the wide desk with a flat version of a typewriting machine in front of it. “This is a computer.” David sat in the single black leather chair and tugged her down to perch on the arm. Excitement fairly hummed through his voice and she remembered Wesley telling her that David was an expert with these machines. “They’re what I work with, what I teach about and they’re like nothing that existed in the 1920s. I don’t want to take time to explain everything about how they work—that could take months but if you can master the basics, this will be your single most effective tool for learning about the twenty-first century.” He fiddled with a couple of buttons and the screen came to life. “Think of it like the television, only interactive,” he told her. He moved a small device beneath his palm. “We call this the mouse. See how that arrow moves around the screen as I move the mouse?” It took her a moment but she did. “Yes. How marvelous.” “And you can enter information with this keyboard, among other ways. The really cool thing is that this computer is linked to others all over the world. Whole libraries of information at the click of a button.” Pictures flashed on the screen as he moved the mouse and clicked. “Here is a Russian passport. Can you speak Russian by the way?” She shook her head. “Not yet. Arabic. Turkish. Greek. Latin. German. French and a little Gaelic.” He gazed intently at her face, sifted his free hand through her hair. “With your facial features and coloring, we could probably pull off anywhere around the Mediterranean basin. Skin and hair look Middle Eastern but those eyes—those gorgeous eyes—speak of a European heritage.” His touch sent shivers of desire coursing through her entire body. “Djinn. My eyes are Djinn.” He smiled and tapped her nose with one calloused finger. “But we can’t put that on your passport. Right now there is a war going on in the Middle East and it’s a pretty bad time to be of Arabic origins in the United States. So how would you feel about being from the Baltic somewhere?” 87

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“Why there?” “Lots of recent turmoil and confusion. Records are bound to be screwed.” “I see.” She did not, not entirely. But she trusted him and his knowledge. “So now we do a search on Greek or Turkish-speaking countries in southeastern Europe…” His thick fingers flew with surprising speed and agility across the typewriting keys. “Here we go. The Republic of Belisara. Mountainous, with remote villages lacking even electricity. That suits. Language is a dialect of Turkish, with Greek and Slavic influences. It borders Turkey, mostly but has been claimed by six different nations since the fall of the Iron Curtain. Currently quasi-independent and in reasonably good diplomatic standing with the United States government but not a member of the European Union.” “But did we not already tell people that I am visiting from England?” “Got that covered, doll.” He had another passport picture on the screen which seemed to be changing before her very eyes. She blinked rapidly when her own name appeared. “You got a middle name?” “I—do not know, exactly. Anissa is not the name I was given at birth. It was a pet name my mother gave me because I so loved the anise-flavored candies from the market. She said I might as well be called that since I always smelled of the stuff.” “And that explains why the smoke smelled like licorice. And you too, a little.” His smile was intimate, sensual. “Enough to make me want to find out if you taste like licorice too.” Her heart pounded and her head swirled. She opened her mouth to speak but struggled to find anything suitable to say. He forestalled her by tapping her lips with a finger. “But right now I want to finish this. It’s important. What was your original name and which would you prefer to be first on your passport?” “I like it when you call me Anissa.” She did not tell him that she had shared her pet name with no other master. “My other name is Miriam, the same as my mother’s.” “Okay, Anissa Miriam Black, it is.” He typed and that name appeared on the image of the passport. “Parents Miriam and Lazlo. Hmmm. Black doesn’t sound very Belisaran.” He tapped a few more keys and came up with another name. “Here we go. Belak. It’s a common Belisaran name and anyone who met you will just assume they heard it wrong. That okay?” She nodded her approval and was rewarded with a smile before he went on. “Birthplace—some dinky town in the mountains no one has ever heard of. There’s a good one. Now date—hmm—how old do you want to be?” “How old do you think I appear?”

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He laughed. “Honey, every guy in the world knows better than to answer that question. It’s almost as dangerous as ‘do I look fat in this’. How about twenty-nine? Not too young but not middle-aged yet, either.” She nodded. “That will suffice.” He had her stand still against a plain white wall while he took a photograph of her, which through some magic of his own, then appeared on the computer screen—first at full size and then in smaller form on the false passport. Amazing! “And your entry visa will say you came here from England for a visit. You were in England living with relatives after insurgents burned your tiny little village, killing most of the inhabitants. There are so many smoking ruins in that part of the world, no one will be able to prove it didn’t happen. You traveled overland through most of southern Europe so your passport is so dog-eared and stamped up it’s not too easy to read. Can you use magic to change the color and thickness of paper?” “Yes. To make it permanent will take considerable energy but it is within my powers.” “Good. And while you do that, I can start hacking the Belisaran government. Which frankly, should be a piece of cake. They probably work on a VIC-20 or something.” By the time he finished altering the picture on the screen, she had lost interest in the process and roamed over to inspect the books lining the shelves on the far wall. There were a great number of heavy tomes that seemed to be academic in nature, with subject matter like mathematics and physics and history. There was also a vast collection of smaller paper bound books that proclaimed themselves fantasy or science fiction. “Finished!” David’s exultant cry was followed by a mechanical humming and whirring. Soon, pages of white paper began to spill from one of the computer boxes. “You made a copy of a passport from this country—with my name on it?” “Exactly.” Now all we have to do is make sure the paper matches, the seals are impressed, then trim and bind the pages.” He opened a file drawer—that she recognized—and pulled out what was clearly his own passport. “This one is outdated but the paper quality should be the same. According to the highly illegal website I hacked into, the paper on the Belisaran documents looks just like ours but is a tiny bit thinner.” He held out the sheaf of large white pages in one hand, the well-used passport in the other. So these papers have to look like this paper, but about halfway between for thickness. Think you can manage that?” “Yes.” She took the passport in her hands, rubbed the pages between her fingers and examined the paper closely, absorbing the texture and color and weight. Then she handed it back and took the other sheets instead. “Maybe you should sit down. You said this was going to take a lot of power and the last time, you pretty much passed out.”

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He was so very thoughtful. She nodded and smiled. “Probably not quite as much as I sent to your friend, but yes, sitting down would no doubt be wise.” He stood and swiveled his big leather chair for her to sit in, then leaned back against his desk, arms crossed, watching her. “You need me to do anything else?” “No. Just be silent for a few moments.” He grinned at that and her stomach gave a tiny flip. She had never been able to tease with a master before. Then her stomach flipped again when she remembered that he was no longer her master—just a man. One by one, she lifted the sheets of white paper in her hands and focused on them. The color the weight, the texture. When the transformation was complete for all the pages, she handed them to David and leaned back in the chair, closing her eyes. “You okay?” “What does that word mean? You use it a great deal.” “It means all right, or fine, or well, or good, depending on context. But I think you had already figured that out. Answer me, Anissa. Are you well enough to do more, or should we wait until tomorrow?” She was not sure why but she was inordinately pleased to be able to contribute something of value to her own cause. And she found his gruff solicitousness somewhat pleasing too, though she doubted he would appreciate her thanking him for it. “If I could have a glass of water, perhaps? Then I will be ready for—as I have heard you say—the next round.” He was out of the room almost before she finished speaking, returning in mere moments with a bottle of water and a clean glass. She took the bottle and unscrewed the cap—she was learning, she told herself. Then not bothering with the glass, she took a long draught of the cool liquid. “Thank you. Now what is next?” “These images need to look like they were pressed into the paper—raised on one side and indented on the other.” “Like with a seal, perhaps?” “Exactly.” “Piece of—cake, correct?” He chuckled, that soft growly chuckle that made her insides melt. “Correct. Piece of cake. And if you’re really good, can you alter the ink to look more like a stamp and less pixilated? That means the image is made up of small dots.” Ah, so it was. She nodded, then focused on the stamped, colored images bearing the seals from each of the countries she had supposedly visited. The changes were so slight it took little energy to make them look just like the stamps on David’s expired passport. “Okay and the cover needs to look like this—” He handed her the page, with its dark green color. “But feel like this.” The dark blue cover of his own document. Moments later it was done. She added the gold embossed imprint of the lettering and seal on the front and handed it back.

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There were boxes stacked in one corner and from one of them David drew a large flat board with a wicked looking blade attached by a hinge on one end and a twist of wire on the other. David untwisted the wire and freed the blade to pivot up and down alongside the board. Then he lined one of the sheets up against some crosshatching on the board and sliced the paper, rotated it and sliced again, until he had meticulously trimmed each of the pages to his specifications. “We’ll have to figure out how to do the binding.” “I can do that.” She took it from him and envisioned the sewn and glued binding that held the whole thing together as a booklet, willing the papers in her hand to be so bound. After he examined it, she smiled and presented it back to her with a flourish. “Your passport, Madame. Though try not to need it. At least until we get all the backup in place.” “Of course.” She held the document to her breast and fought the urge to jump up and down. Instead she gave in to a different urge, on that had been on her mind all day. She set the passport carefully on the desk and leapt out of the chair right into David’s arms, then threw her own around his neck. While he was too startled to push her away, she leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him right on the mouth.

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Chapter Nine Whoa. Dave steadied himself against a bookshelf so they didn’t both fall over when Anissa launched herself into his arms. And that’s about how long it took for his brain to quit working. His hands rested on her hips to steady her and he instinctively pulled her close, pressing her body along his. When she pushed up on her toes to kiss him, he groaned, knowing that if he started this time he wasn’t going to be able to stop. He’d wanted her just too damn much for too damn long. She took advantage of his groan to slip her tongue inside his mouth. Goddess she tasted of beer and spice and something indefinably her. It wasn’t his fault if he gripped her hips tighter and kissed her back, letting his own tongue stroke and slide along hers, before finally chasing it back inside her mouth, tasting, seeking, learning every line and hollow of her, then thrusting in hard, exerting a little of the primitive, chest-pounding dominance she seemed to bring out in him. Anissa must have welcomed the intrusion because she rubbed her pelvis against him. She was just enough shorter that it didn’t quite work, didn’t put the pressure where both of them wanted it—needed it—but it did make her softly curved belly brush back and forth against his straining cock and David thought he might just come in his pants. He’d worn baggy jeans today, partly to camouflage the effect she always seemed to have on him, but now even those were far too tight. But he was a glutton for punishment, because he cupped both of her beautifully round, beautifully firm ass cheeks in his hands and lifted her, so that when he rubbed back, the ridgepole of his erection was right at the vee of her legs. Even from behind he could feel the dampness spreading from her pussy, wetting the fabric of her jeans. Whatever this was about for her, it wasn’t just gratitude or duty—not unless Djinn had the magical power of arousal at will. Any woman that wet had to be almost as turned on as he was. Still he needed things to be clear before they went any further and he completely lost control. “You know where this is leading?” His voice came out rough and to his total embarrassment, cracked. She didn’t seem to care, or even notice. She played with the ends of his hair and swirled her tongue around his ear. “I am not a slave any longer, David. I am hoping it leads to your bedroom. It has been far too lonely in that great huge bed all by myself.” Well, that was pretty clear. “Then we’d better go now, otherwise we’re never gonna make it that far.” He buried his face in the hollow between her neck and shoulder, licking the sweet, salty skin that he found there, then lightly nipped the corded tendon. Her breathy, mewling cry was maybe the best compliment he’d ever heard. But in a

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sincere effort to get to the bedroom, he slid her body down his ‘til her feet touched the floor again. She steadied herself, then dropped her arms from his neck and looked up at him with shining lavender eyes. “I wish to know you, David. In every sense of that word. I want this of my own free will and for my own selfish pleasures. This sort of thing has never been a choice for me before but this time it is. I want you—Professor David Garvaglia. We may not know what the future holds in store for us but for tonight, if you will have me, I would be yours.” “Hell yeah.” Not trusting himself to make it to his bedroom if he stopped to kiss her again, David scooped her up in his arms and tossed her over his shoulder in a fireman carry, relishing the sound of her laughter as she cooperated. He didn’t quite run up the stairs two at a time—he wasn’t willing to risk dropping her—but he did move a hell of a lot faster than normal. When they reached his bedroom, he stopped beside the bed and slowly lowered her ‘til she was standing in his arms. He hadn’t bothered to turn on a light, so the only illumination in the room was what little filtered in from the hallway. Still, even in the dimness, he could see her smile. “Sorry if that wasn’t very romantic.” She shook her tumbled black curls and her laughter tinkled like silver wind chimes in a gentle breeze. “It was fun.” She licked her lips and grinned. “It—this—intimacy— has never been fun before. That has meaning for me.” Tears pricked at the corners of David’s eyes but he fought them back. He was not going screw this up by making an idiot of himself. “Aww, darlin’. Sex should always be fun. And anyone who had the incredible good fortune to be in the same room with you, let alone in the same bed, was an absolute idiot for not taking the time or effort to make sure it was fun for both of you.” “Should I disrobe?” Her question was almost innocent, though he knew she wasn’t—not in any technical sense. But knowing that he was the first man she had chosen to sleep with was a huge rush and David felt like beating his chest and screaming his triumph from the rooftop. But he also felt a huge responsibility to make sure it was good for her. So he stepped back and lifted his hands from her shoulders, let them drop to his sides. “What do you want to do? This is your party. Tell me what you want and if it’s within my ability to do so, I promise to make it happen.” She sucked her lower lip between her teeth and gazed at him quizzically. For a moment it looked like she either didn’t believe him, or didn’t know what to say next but then her kiss-swollen lips widened into a grin. “Then I wish for better light in here. I want to watch while you undress for me.” Ooookay. David swallowed hard, he hadn’t expected that one. He was usually pretty dominant in the bedroom—this was just a little uncomfortable for him. But he’d put her in charge, so it was her call. He took one step to the side and turned on the

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lamp. Then he stepped back to stand in front of Anissa. “What do you want me to take off first?” She sat on the bed, pulling her legs up into an effortless lotus position and David’s cock throbbed at the further evidence of her flexibility and grace. She twisted one long springy curl around her finger as she paused to consider. “Boots. And socks.” “Sounds like a good place to start.” He knelt in the center of the floor to unlace his combat boots, then shoved his socks off with them and tossed them into the far corner of the room. Then he stood. “What next?” “Your jersey, I think. No—it is called a hoodie, correct?” When he nodded, she smiled. “Your hoodie, then. Remove it, please.” “As you wish.” Scenes from The Princess Bride flashed through his head. For someone who had spent the last eight hundred years as a slave, Anissa did imperious almost as well as Robin Wright had in the movie. Ignoring the part of him—okay parts—that were screaming at him to hurry up and get naked, he unzipped the Misfits sweatshirt and pulled it down off his arms as slowly as he could manage. Once it was off, he flung it into the corner on top of his boots, then held his arms out at his sides. “Anything else?” She seemed to like what she was seeing. Her lips were parted and her hands fisted in the comforter. When she spoke again, her voice came out as a husky purr. “The undershirt.” It was black, emblazoned with the phrase, Han Solo shot first. He peeled it off but this time instead of throwing it at the corner, he tossed it into her lap. When she lifted it to her face and inhaled, he thought his cock was liable to burst through the front of his pants. “Now?” His own voice was little more than a croak. He tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans. “Now—you may—unfasten—your t-t-trousers.” Short sharp pants punctuated her sentence. Dave nodded, pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to form coherent words at all. With shaking fingers, he unbuttoned his cargo pants and eased down the zipper with excruciating caution. He’d dug out a pair of black briefs this morning, not wanting to wear his usual boxers and walk around pointing at Anissa all day. The cotton knit that showed in the vee of his unzipped pants was stretched so tight it was translucent and the tip of his cock was poking up over the waistband, a tiny drop of liquid already leaking from the slit. “Off.” He barely heard her whisper but he saw her lips move and he wiggled the pants off his hips, let them drop to the floor, then stepped out of them toward the bed, his hands on his hips. “Come—” She paused, licked her lips and drew in a deep breath. “Come closer please. I wish to remove your drawers myself.” He nodded in obedience. One more step took him right to the edge of the mattress. He crossed his arms over his chest in an effort to keep his hands to himself. When she 94

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reached out and tentatively touched his shaft through his briefs, he swallowed hard and locked his knees to keep them from trembling. He was ready to go off like a rocket—it was going to be a challenge to hold out long enough to satisfy her need to play. The elastic of the waistband slid torturously along the front of his erection as she slowly maneuvered his briefs down off his hips. She leaned forward, just close enough that he could feel her warm breath on his already heated skin but far enough back that he could still see the intense expression on her beautiful face, the small furrow of concentration between her brows as she watched him. When his cock sprang free of the shorts, she gasped and it was all he could do not to push his hips forward and aim for her throat. Instead he held himself rigidly in place while she stripped his shorts down past his knees. When they reached his ankles, he kicked them to the side. There was something oddly erotic about being bare-ass naked while Anissa sat on the bed still fully clothed. He watched her face for cues, couldn’t help a surge of satisfaction when her violet gaze fastened onto his bobbing cock and she licked her lips. “What next?” He could barely speak but he got the words out as a hoarse whisper. She shook her head and shrugged, as if she didn’t know what she wanted. Then she drew her lip back between her teeth and reached out one finger to trace a line down the thick vein that ridged his shaft. Her touch was as light as a feather but it hit him harder than a kick to the head. When she swirled the tip of the finger around the swollen head of his penis, it leapt upward to meet her touch and he couldn’t suppress the groan that rumbled from deep in his chest. She snatched her hand back. “I am sorry. You do not like to be touched?” “I like it too much. I’m so hard for you that it hurts when you touch me because I want more. But if you want to explore, I think I can survive a little more torture.” “You are larger than I had expected, given your height.” Great, now she wanted to talk anatomy. And had she just called him short? He squeezed his eyes shut. Focus, Garvaglia. Focus. “A lot of that is because of you,” he gritted out. “You make me so damn horny—aroused—that I’ve been walking around with an erection for the last two days.” “That is what you call this? An erection?” She said the word slowly, as if testing it out. Meanwhile she was weighing it in her hands and tracing all the whorls and ridges with her silky-soft fingertips. “It sure as hell is right now.” And getting more so by the second, if it didn’t explode in her face first. “Any other names?” “Hard-on, woody, boner.” What they hell had they called it in the twenties? Fuck that—he didn’t care—didn’t really want to know. Didn’t want to think about her having been with some asshole gangster back then. Didn’t really want to think of her having been with any other guy, ever. And that thought scared the living shit out of him—or would when his brain became capable of processing rational thought again. 95

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“Phallus,” she said, moving her face closer until she was rubbing her nose on his hip. “That is the correct term, is it not?” “One of them. Penis is more common today.” She ran a nail along the slit, rubbing around a drop of thick white fluid and a shudder ran from the top of his head down to his toes which were curled into the carpet. “Goddess, Anissa, there are a thousand different words for a man’s cock. Can we discuss them another time? It doesn’t care what you call it as long as it gets to be buried inside your sweet little pussy. Preferably very, very soon.” “Pussy?” She drew back and tilted her head. Then she smiled and nodded. “Ah. Pussy. I like that word too.” “Yeah, well if you want me to make love to it, you might want to consider taking your jeans off. One of us has too many clothes on.” “Yes.” With one smooth, graceful move she pulled her sweater off over her head. Gods have mercy. Had he bought her that tantalizing scrap of hot pink lace she had on underneath? The push-up bra barely covered the bottom curve of her breasts. It was cut low with just a glimpse of puckered berry-brown nipples peeking over the edge of the lace. His control broke then. He just couldn’t keep from filling his hands with those soft, ripe globes. He slid one hand under each, lifting and weighing them, then used his thumbs to brush at the hard points sticking out of the lace. “Oh.” She dropped her hands behind her on the bed, leaned back on them to thrust her breasts further into Dave’s grasp. He ran the tip of his left thumb under the lace, found the pebbled nipple and stroked it. Then he did the same with the right. “Oh my.” Trying to move slowly, not to be too rough, he pushed the bra straps down her arms and lifted her breasts from their skimpy confinement. For a moment, all he could do was stop and stare. “Goddess.” She was every bit as beautiful in the flesh as she had been in his dreams. Then he dropped to his knees beside the bed and sucked a nipple into his mouth. Just the salty sweet taste of her skin was almost enough to make him come but he fought the orgasm that was building in his tight swollen balls. He was damn sure going to make it good for Anissa before he went off like a fifteen-year-old virgin. He swirled his tongue around the point of her nipple, before drawing it in deeper and suckling hard. His other hand alternately stroked and squeezed her other breast. “David!” She fell back on the bed, her knees still bent over the edge on either side of his chest. Her jeans rasped against his skin, reminding them that there was still a layer of unnecessary fabric separating them. He switched his mouth to the other nipple and moved his fingers to the snap and zipper of her pants. She lifted her hips, allowing him to slide the denim off her legs and he peeled her gray fuzzy slipper socks off at the same time. He left the tiny panties in place for the moment, wanting to take the time to savor the sight of her in nothing but damp pink lace.

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“Beautiful.” He dropped nibbling kisses on each dark puffy nipple, then in a line down to her bellybutton which he tickled with his tongue. Then he trailed his tongue down the slight rise of her abdomen to the edge of the tantalizing pink lace. He could smell her arousal now, rich and musky and quintessentially feminine. And oh, goddess, there was that faint licorice overtone he would forever associate with Anissa in his mind. With a guttural groan he buried his face in the little scrap of cloth, was thrilled to find it soaking wet against his skin. He nuzzled her through the cloth, enjoying every whimper and wriggle as she tried to increase the strength of the contact. Finally he dipped his head just a little lower and licked a wet line from her inner thigh up to the thin strip of cloth that rode between her labia. Then he pulled the wet lace aside and ran his tongue along the length of her cleft in one hungry slurp that had her crying his name and bucking up off the bed. Her pussy clenched around the tip of his tongue and more wetness leaked out to coat his lips. He slid one finger into her, then two and felt the snug pulsing of her walls as she rode the mini-climax. Wanting her to enjoy every possible moment, he found her tightly beaded clit with his tongue and stroked it until she stopped twitching around his hand. “Oh, David.” Her eyes flew open as he stood, still between her bent knees. “Thank you. That may have been the most beautiful moment of my life. But I thought you were going to be—inside me.” “Oh, I fully intend to do just that, don’t you worry.” In a hurry now, he pulled the panties down to her ankles so she could kick them off, then lifted her up so he could undo the bra that was still bunched up beneath her breasts. “Trust me, gorgeous, we’re just getting started.” When she was as naked as he was, he climbed onto the bed, pulling her with him so her feet were no longer dangling and they lay side by side on top of the comforter. David wrapped one arm around her shoulders, one arm around her ass and pulled her close for a deep wet kiss. He knew she could feel and taste her own juices on his mouth and chin and that turned him on even more. She sucked at his lips and tongue hungrily, fisting one hand tightly in his hair and grinding her wet curls against his aching cock. He slid his fingers down along the crack of her ass, teased her anus for a second, then moved down to slide between her legs. He could tell she was ready to take him by the way she wriggled her hips, trying to drive his fingers back into her pussy. Dave was barely breathing by the time she finally pulled back from his mouth to utter, “Please, David, now.” Compared to getting inside all that heat, oxygen just wasn’t a priority. “As you wish,” he huffed. Then she screeched in surprise as he gripped her tightly and flipped over to lie on his back with Anissa sprawled atop him. “This is your party, remember?” He kissed her hard, then moved both hands down to cup her ass. “You’re in charge.” “Oh.”

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Anissa drew up onto her knees astride him and paused for a moment to let his words sort themselves out in her mind. What did he mean she was in charge? Then he lifted his hips and nudged her with his—cock was as good a word as any—and she understood. More wetness flooded from her body as she thought about impaling herself on his impressive member and she ached deep in her womb to be filled. She rubbed her mound back and forth along the ridge of his erection. The sensation was wonderful but she desperately wanted more. “Any time, though, princess.” His words were curt, interrupted by short almost gasping breaths. He leaned up and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth and she cried out at the beauty of the sensation that tingled all the way down her spine. When he drew it deep and suckled fiercely, she ground her mound down harder on his cock. His hands gently lifted her hips away from his groin and she felt one slide between them to adjust the position of his cock. Finally. She held herself poised above him until he slipped the thick head into the mouth of her opening then with his other hand on her ass, guided her down to take him inside. “Oh.” He was so big it hurt for a moment when she slid all the way down to rest on his skin. He filled her completely and the tip of him pushed at the entrance to her womb. The constant suction of his mouth on her breast coupled with the taut fullness below to send gentle waves of sensation rolling through her and she rocked back and forth, almost keening aloud with the pleasure. Stars and moon, how she had wanted this, wanted him. No other man had ever left her yearning and aching for this like David had, even in her visions before he’d freed her from the box. Now she nearly wished she could keep him like this forever, his massive cock thrusting into her, his mouth suckling her nipples like a hungry babe or a starving man. She dug her fingers into the muscles of his arm and began to move, lifting her hips until only the head of his erection remained inside her, then slithering back downward ‘til he was embedded fully, filling her to the brim. Her movements gathered speed and force and soon each push down was accompanied by a breathy cry she barely recognized as her own voice. David released her breasts to fall back onto the bed, his hands coming up to grip her hips and guide her motion. “Goddess, you’re so—damn—good!” “David.” She was reaching for something, something beyond the level of fulfillment she had found minutes earlier, that place of pleasure she knew her body could obtain from any moderately considerate lover. This peak she was climbing was sharper, higher than anything she’d ever tried to reach before and she did not know if she could reach the summit alone. “David, help me.” It had been barely a whisper but the connection between them was so close, so intimate that he heard and must have understood. Without dislodging himself within her, he gathered her close in his arms and rolled them over. He pressed a kiss on her lips then rose up on his elbows to take control.

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“Come on honey. Let go.” He pumped his hips, driving into her with deep strong strokes. One of his hands insinuated itself betwixt their bodies to fondle the small bundle of skin just above where they joined. “Don’t try to think, just feel. Let the magic take over and send you flying.” Anissa twined her legs around his, her heels digging into the backs of his hairy thighs. He thrust harder and she would have sworn that her entire body was filled with his. There was no telling where David ended and Anissa began. Her nostrils were filled with his scent and his taste was warm on her tongue. Her soul coiled into a knot inside her body and then with one final flick of his finger, one final shove of his strong cock inside her passage something in her shattered. Stars exploded behind eyelids that fluttered shut of their own accord and she thought she cried his name just as he called hers the moment she felt his warm, rich seed flood into her womb. They lay silently for an indeterminable amount of time, each of them struggling for breath. Anissa buried her nose in the crook of his neck and held him close. She knew it was foolish but she almost felt as if he would disappear, leaving her back in the box at the mercy of another vision. Surely nothing this devastating could have been real. “Anissa?” Finally, David spoke. He lifted his chest away and she missed it immediately. She wound her arms around his waist to hold his lower body in place— keeping his penis where it belonged—deep inside her and lodged tight to her womb. He didn’t shift his hips at all. Perhaps he was enjoying the continued contact as well. Instead, he brushed the damp tangled strands of her hair away from her face with gentle fingers. Fingers—she noticed with a flutter of feminine pride—that were trembling ever-so slightly. “Anissa, honey, are you okay?” She smiled, forced her eyes to open despite the two tears that insisted upon leaking down the sides of her face. “Okay means fine, does it not? I am more than fine, my hero. I have never, not in all my many years, felt as beautiful and wonderful as I do at this moment.” “I’m glad.” He bent down and kissed the tears from her cheeks. When she stirred, he pulled away but not too far, lying propped on one elbow beside her, his other hand still stroking her face and her hair. “I can’t remember anything better myself.” If it was a lie designed to soothe her feelings, it was a good one. Honesty and passion radiated from his beautiful blue eyes. But there was a note of something else in his intent gaze as well. Something akin to—concern? “I am sorry about one thing though.” Now his piercing gaze searched her face. “We didn’t use a condom. Now I’m pretty sure you don’t have any sort of human disease but there is something I don’t know. Anissa, are humans and Djinn genetically compatible?” She scrunched up her face trying to understand his question. And what was a condom that they were supposed to have used?

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“Okay, let me rephrase that.” He sighed deeply, gave her another little hug. “Honey, what I’m trying so clumsily to ask is if there is any way I could have just made you pregnant.” Oh. That was his concern. Of course. She smiled and shook her head. “No. You need not worry about that.” She was glad to be able to relieve his fear so easily. “No little half-Djinn, huh? That’s what I meant by not genetically compatible. Our two races are not cross-fertile.” “Cross—” Again she had to think about his words before she could be sure of what he was asking. “No. I mean yes—human and Djinn are capable of having children together. They are called Djann. I knew a few such at one time.” There had been two or three children in the harem with human mothers. “But for female Djinn, fertility is an issue of choice. Until I am certain that I am free of Murdoch and his revenge, I would never risk becoming pregnant.” And because she was not at all certain of her feelings for David, nor of his for her, she could not risk creating the bond of a new life between them. She was very afraid that for the first time in her long life, she was falling in love with someone. “Good then. As little as I want to move right now, we might want to get under the covers instead of on top of them. Before we fall asleep.” “You are sleeping here then?” She wished she did not sound so hopeful but she truly did not want him to leave her tonight. “If you don’t mind.” He bent his head and kissed her. This time instead of hungry, it was long and sweet and any defenses against him she might have still possessed crumbled to dust. “I’m not finished with you yet, not even close.” “Good.” She rolled toward him. “Because I am not finished with you either.” And a small voice at the center of her soul warned her that perhaps she never would be. She did not want to move but she shifted so he could pull the duvet out from under their bodies, then snuggled back into his chest when he tucked it up over them and drew her back into his embrace. The crisp dark red curls on his muscular chest tickled her cheek and she brought up one hand to toy with them. He was so different from her, all sturdy strength to her softness and vulnerability. How could she have ever thought he was not her hero? Even if he had not freed her, she doubted she could have kept from falling in love with him, something that had never happened before, even with the kindest of her masters. He was strong and sweet, brilliant and the most honorable man she had ever known. She drew in a deep breath, inhaled the mingled scents of his body and hers, shampoo, perspiration and sex. It smelled like heaven. Even worse—it smelled like home. What the hell had he gotten himself into? He lay in the dark with Anissa cuddled up on his chest, warm, soft and smelling of sex. Her long curls trailed all over them both, all over the bed. He picked one up with

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the hand that wasn’t cradling her head and played with it. What was he doing here? Besides the obvious stupidity of falling in love. It was too late to do anything about that. He figured he’d fallen for her in his dreams long before he’d even opened the damn box. Meeting her in person, getting to know her quick mind and generous heart as well as her outward beauty had only cemented his doom. He could not allow this bastard wizard to hurt her. That was a given. So how was he going to stop it? He had a collection of swords in the house, all real, all deadly and he knew how to use them. The gun safe in the basement was full of some of the best engineered firearms in existence—and he knew how to use those too. During his short hitch with Uncle Sam, he’d been tapped for sniper training. David liked his toys—not only were they cool but they made him feel safe, in control. Growing up on the street had impressed him early with the need not to be a victim. Not ever again. But would any of his weapons or skills do any good against magic? He knew some spells, some rituals that were part of his Wiccan belief structure. But he wasn’t sure that a general protection spell would hold up against a mage with eight centuries of experience. It was time to call in the big guns. He fingered the silver ring on his pinky. “I need your help, buddy,” he whispered into the night. To protect Anissa, he’d not only call in the favor Drake claimed to owe him, he’d sell his goddess-damned soul.

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Chapter Ten “Shopping? Again?” Bleary eyed he peered at Anissa over his morning mug of coffee. Okay, early afternoon. They’d spent most of the morning in bed and not much of that time had involved sleep. “Fixing up this house, that is my—job—now, is it not?” He nodded cautiously. “I guess that was our deal.” “Well then, I need to know what is available. What is in fashion and how to tell what is needed.” “Oh. Research. We don’t need to go out for that. That’s what computers are for.” “But I do not know how to use your information machine. Is there a lending library perhaps? I do know how to use books.” “But even in the library now you need to use computers to find the books. Card catalogs are as extinct as the dinosaurs, sweetheart. But I tell you what. I’ll give you a quick lesson on surfing the web and you can play around on that while I get some work done. Then a little later we’ll hit the library and maybe go out for dinner and a movie. How does that sound?” Of course the little lesson took two hours and was interrupted by a brief but passionate interlude on the office floor. Dave was going to have bruises on his ass from that one. Not that he cared. They probably went well with the claw marks on his back and the tiny bite on the top of his shoulder—he was particularly proud of that one. Turned out his little Djinni possessed a fine set of very sharp teeth. After several tries and only a few minutes of pounding his head on the old wooden door, he finally got her to borderline functional with some of the online decorating sites and left her browsing on his main desktop unit while he sat on the sectional just outside the office door with his laptop. The first thing he did was download the baby pictures Eric had posted on his website. Then he spent a few minutes uploading some addendums to the syllabus for next semester’s Programming 101 class. Finally, he composed an email to Drake, asking the dragon for help. Remember our live action game in the steam tunnels below campus, buddy? I need your help on a similar problem. I mean I’d swear this dude has had like eight hundred years to practice being an evil wizard. Dave read it over to make sure that if somehow intercepted it would sound just like a couple of geeks talking about a role-playing game. But Drake would read between the lines and know Dave was likely to be facing down a real wizard. And Drake, of all beings, understood enough about magic to recognize the magnitude of the danger in that situation.

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Dave also had some serious hacking to do but he didn’t want to do that from the laptop. The Belisaran government would be a breeze but US and British customs and immigration were going to take a little more finesse. Normally, trying to hack from campus would be even riskier but Dave and Eric had helped build the SMU network. He’d designed the firewalls and knew where the back doors were—he’d be able to work from his office without leaving any traces anywhere. While he piddled around with his campus email, an instant message icon popped up on the screen. Cool, Drake was online. Seconds later the message arrived. “Am on my way. Ward your house.” “Done,” Dave typed back. “Do it again,” Drake replied. “Stronger. Eric told me more about the game you are all involved in. Is the new player as attractive as he mentioned?” “More.” Of course Eric had ratted him out. He’d have done the same if their positions were reversed. And Dave didn’t really care—it saved him the trouble of explaining. “I am returning as quickly as possible. Meanwhile, here is a spell to use for the wards. It should impress your opponents in the game. And remember, even high-level wizards have their weaknesses. The game—the big game—is designed that way.” The big game? Life? Dave was relatively sure that’s what his scaly friend meant. “I’ll keep that in mind. And buddy—my new house has a guestroom I think you’ll like.” That thought had occurred to him the minute he’d first seen the property. While the house and garage had barely been touched in decades, the big, open barn was in perfect condition, both heated and insulated. Dave knew he’d sleep a lot better with a dragon on the premises. “I look forward to it.” Drake was nothing if not polite. “Expect me in three to four days.” “Would you prefer the walls in your living room painted or wallpapered?” Anissa’s voice startled Dave out of his thoughts and he looked up to meet her gaze through the office door. She sat in his ergonomic chair, tapping her pen on a corner of a yellow legal pad. “There are so many varieties of each from which to choose.” “Paint.” He sure as hell didn’t want flowers all over his living room walls. He hoped he could trust her not to make the place too fussy or girly. Other than that, as long as she left him a place to hang his sword collection and Jenna’s paintings, he didn’t really care. “Good. Though I think you should include some paper in the kitchen and the small lavatory, to be in keeping with the age of the house. Stripes, perhaps, or a simple design. Would that be acceptable?” “Sure, if you think so.” She rolled her eyes in that way that even the dimmest guy knew meant “men are so useless”. “The rest of the furnishings you purchased are to arrive today, are they not?”

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“Umm—yeah—I think so. They said between noon and four, so anytime now.” “Excellent.” She nodded and stood up, sending him a determined smile. “While we wait, you can show me the rest of the house and tell me what you envision for each of the rooms.” Anissa nearly laughed aloud at the perplexed expression on David’s face. Some things about men never seemed to change, despite the male “designers” she had seen in the magazines. If she had harbored any doubts about the validity of his paying her to redecorate his home, they vanished in the face of his obvious confusion as she followed him from room to room. He obediently explained his ideas for the functions of the rooms but cast her blank stares when she mentioned possible colors and products that she had seen on his computer. His needs, she discovered were quite simple. Comfort and function were vital and while he enjoyed attractive surroundings, he had no idea how he wished to achieve that goal. As long as nothing was—in his own unique yet oddly comprehensible phrasing—too froufrou—she was free to choose color and pattern at will. There were more bedrooms than he had any idea what to do with of course. The house had been designed with a large family in mind. They agreed that the public areas of the lower floor would be dealt with first, starting with the living room and kitchen. He even agreed to let her choose some new dishware and silver. Just because he lived alone did not mean he could not have plates that matched. Really the man needed more than a decorator. In any previous era, an unmarried male professor would have had staff—at least a full-time housekeeper. Perhaps when she was ready to leave his home, she would see about finding someone for the position. While he worked on his computer, she sat at the kitchen table making lists until the deliverymen arrived with the furniture. After meeting the men at the door, David turned them over to her to oversee. “You’re in charge of where stuff goes,” he told her before returning to his office. So she led the men up to the spare bedroom and watched while they arranged the new furnishings to her satisfaction in the room with the new— and unused bed that had been set up the day before. She felt herself blush when she realized they had not even put sheets or blankets on the bed. In fact, she wondered if David even had sheets to fit, since this was a much smaller bed than the one in his room. She added bedding to her shopping list. “You ready to go?” While Anissa stood at the front door watching the delivery van drive away, David moved up behind her and wrapped her in his arms, drawing her body back against his chest. “Yes.” She did not move, however, content for the moment to lean back into his embrace. “I have a list of items we should purchase.” “Already? Why such a hurry?” “If this is to be my profession for the present time, should I not begin?”

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“I guess. But don’t get carried away. It’s still the holiday vacation for some of us, no reason you can’t take a few days to enjoy your freedom. There’s no deadline on getting the house finished. You can take all the time you want.” His hands skimmed over her waist, down to her hips, then back up to toy with the sides of her breasts. His warm breath tickled her ear. “I can think of all sorts of more interesting ways to spend the afternoon than paint shopping.” She tipped her head to give his wandering lips better access to her neck and ear. The prospect of spending the afternoon, as they had the morning, in his bedchamber was immensely appealing. “But I thought you needed to visit your office?” “Damn.” He nipped her neck then soothed the tiny hurt with a wet, sucking kiss. Then with a huge sigh he shifted his hands to her upper arms and gently set her away from him. “I should. We should. There’ll be plenty of time for this later.” Then he turned her to face him and his intense blue eyes searched her face. “That is—if you want this—want us—to continue. We hadn’t really discussed it, I know. Was last night just a one-time thing? A celebration of being free? Or is there something deeper going on here between us?” “I—I do not know, David.” She stared back at him, taking note of his furrowed brow, of the tense clenching of his jaw. Unable to resist, she lifted her hand and ran one finger down his cheek, rubbing against the roughness. He had forgotten to shave and the russet stubble added a roguish cast to his countenance. “This freedom—’tis so new to me. I have no real notion of what to do with it, or of what is to happen next. And there is still Murdoch to consider. It terrifies me to know he could arrive at any moment and that you and your wonderful friends could pay the price for my liberation.” “I’m not worried about that.” He nipped her finger lightly, then sucked it into his mouth for a moment before releasing it and giving her a lopsided smile. “I just need to know what you’re thinking, what you want—not for the long haul but for here and now.” “I cannot begin to fathom the shape that my future may take.” She tapped his lips with her damp finger. “But if you are inviting me to share your bed for this night and for however many after it we choose, then my answer is an enthusiastic—even eager— aye. I would far rather lie with you David, than lie in the darkness without you.” “I can live with that.” His smile widened into a beatific grin. He enfolded her into a hug, the sweetness of which brought tears to prick at her eyelids. Even his voice sounded a bit husky when he pulled away and tapped her playfully on the derrière. “Now go get your coat.”

***** The university was nearly deserted, as all of the students and much of the faculty had gone away for the holidays. The quiet landscape was filled with a motley collection of building styles, most she assumed were recent and a few that had likely stood for eighty years or more. She liked those, the elegant brick edifices with soaring towers

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covered in winter-leafless ivy vines. The ground was covered in snow, with the broad expanses of white broken by strange, shapeless concrete and metal sculptures and stately mature oak trees. “We’ll do the grand tour another day when it’s warmer, if you don’t mind. The brisk wind blew swirls of snowflakes across the windscreen of the Jeep as David turned into one of the parking areas, this one next to one of the most modern—she supposed— of the buildings, a giant cube of concrete and white marble. “This is the library.” She shivered as he handed her down from the vehicle, already cold. “That would be fine.” There were only a few cars parked nearby, so they had only a short walk to the door but she was still glad for the arm he kept about her as they went. “I figured you can pick up some books or magazines here, then take them with you to read in my office.” He ushered her through a set of wide glass double doors. “Give you something to do while I get some work done.” “I thought you had planned to leave me here while you did your work?” He squeezed her hand through her thick padded mitten. “Yeah, well I had second thoughts about that. We still have no idea when or where Murdoch is going to show up, right? I don’t like the idea of you being out on your own until we’re sure it’s safe.” Of course. He could not protect her forever but she knew he would worry if they were apart and in truth, she was more than a little frightened of being on her own in this strange new world. With David, she felt safe, though she would protect him from Murdoch’s wrath if she could. When had her feelings grown so complicated? The library at least seemed vaguely familiar as they entered a wide book-lined hall. Anissa had struggled to learn reading and writing in several of the languages as she changed ownership over the years but she had spent more than enough time in Englishspeaking lands to become fluent. Of course times had changed considerably since she was last in such an institution—a fact that was driven home the minute David began by leading her straight to one of his beloved computers. “Type in the subject matter here,” he told her. That will tell us where to look. She was proud of the fact that he stood aside and allowed her to do it. Many men had no patience for teaching—but then he was a teacher and she would do well to remember that his behavior may have little to do with her as a person.

***** An hour later, armed with instructional books and several glossy lifestyle magazines, she followed David into the small windowless box he shared with Eric Gordon as an office. The two shorter walls of the room were lined with bookshelves and filing cabinets, while desks and tables filled the two longer walls. Every available flat surface was covered with books, papers or arcane electrical devices, most of them resembling the parts on David’s home office computer desk. The only empty space was the dented top of a single small metal filing cabinet positioned in the center of the floor,

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almost exactly between their two high-backed steel and black-leather chairs and two hard plastic chairs that sat at the end of each desk. Probably there, she thought, to discourage visitors from staying for long. The only way she could tell which desk belonged to which man was that each held a single framed photograph of a woman. She knew the desk nearest the door was Eric’s because she recognized his smiling wife, in a white gown and lace bridal veil. The woman in the portrait on David’s desk was equally lovely, with brilliant red hair and aqua-blue eyes. Anissa felt her entrails clench. Who was this woman who rated such a place of honor in David’s life? David pulled out Eric’s chair for Anissa, then pointed at a coffee-making machine perched atop a blue metal cabinet. “You want some coffee?” “No, thank you.” She sat in the proffered chair and he set her books down on the desk beside her. The chair, like the one in David’s office at home, was far more comfortable than it looked. “Okay then.” He dropped into the chair opposite her and pulled the keyboard off the desk into his lap as he began pushing buttons. The various devices began to light up and hum to life. “May I borrow a pen and some paper?” “Sure, no problem.” He rooted through several of the piles on his desk until he unearthed a yellow lined tablet and a partly chewed ballpoint pen. “Anything else?” “Thank you. Those will do.” He swiveled his chair until he was at an oblique angle to his computer screen and lifted his booted feet to rest on the mid-floor filing cabinet. Ah, she thought, one mystery explained. He gazed at her, his brows drawn together above his nose. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” She turned her back to him, made a great show of spreading one of her magazines open on Eric’s desk. “Have you not work to do?” “Yeah. Nothing. That’s one of those woman-speak things isn’t it?” She heard him lift his feet and spin his chair around, then the rhythmic clack of his fingers tapping on the keyboard. She tried to focus on colors and fabrics, draperies and appliances, but to no avail. “This is a lovely photograph of Mrs. Gordon.” “What? Oh. Lori. Yeah that’s a good pic. Taken at their wedding last May.” May? Anissa counted on her fingers and smiled. None of their friends seemed to care, so she certainly did not. The Gordons clearly adored one another, which was all that mattered. David turned back to his machine and Anissa wanted to growl. Instead, she gritted her teeth and asked outright. “And the photo on your desk? She is lovely as well. Will she mind my sharing your home?” And your bed, you annoying hairy beast? “Jenna? Why the hell should she care? I mean, sure I’m her baby brother but she knows I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

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“That is your sister?” Anissa considered the possibility of crawling under the desk to hide. Of course it was. The red hair should have told her as much. And the warm, sweet smile. “Yup, that’s Jen.” He handed her the picture. “Her girlfriend Olivia took that last summer. Hard to believe she turns forty next year, isn’t it?” “Yes.” Anissa would not have guessed the woman at over thirty. “You mentioned once before, I think, that she lives with another woman.” “Liv—Olivia. She’s great. They’ve been together for years and Jen’s never been happier. If our politicians would get their heads out of their asses and legalize gay marriage, she’d be my sister-in-law.” That it was even considered astounded Anissa, though such things had been common among the Djinn hundreds of years earlier. “Do you see them often?” “Not enough. They live in Arizona. I thought about moving out there to be closer but it turns out I can’t stand the desert. Jenna thrives on it. So we talk on the phone and email and see each other a couple of times a year. It works.” His deep love for his sister warmed his voice and Anissa’s heart. “Is she your only sister?” “She’s all I have.” “No parents?” “No.” His expression shuttered and he took the portrait from her outstretched hand then turned to put it back on his desk. “I always wished for a sister. There were other children in the harem. Cousins of one degree or another, I suppose. But because of my mother’s disgrace, they were mostly kept away from me.” “Don’t you ever want to go back, see if your mother is even still alive?” She did. She had no desire to ever see her grandfather again but she would like to see her mother, know that she was well. But not enough to risk being sold back into slavery to Murdoch. “It does not matter.” She heard the whoosh of his chair seconds before she felt his hands land on her shoulders. “After we get Murdoch sorted out, we’ll do whatever we can to find a way to get you together with your mom. Promise.” She shrugged, tried to keep the emotion from her voice. “It matters not. You have already given me my freedom and a job. It is more than I ever believed possible.” He kissed the top of her head. “And right now, I’m working on making your passport legitimate. So if we’re really okay now, I’ll get back to that.” “Of course.” She turned her own chair and let him see the tears that she knew were filling her eyes. “Oh hell.” He groaned and crushed her to his chest. “We are never going to get anything done if we’re in the same room together are we?”

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Her tears were forgotten as she burrowed into his chest. The strong bands of his arms encircled her, and she felt wetness pool between her legs. Why did it seem she could never get enough of this man? She was no novice at sexual relations, had enjoyed them with some of her masters, but with David she was experiencing a continual state of craving for his touch. And that was like nothing she had ever felt before. Still, she saw no reason to deny them both the pleasure and relief that they could find together. There was a small glass pane in the office door but it had been covered over with papers and cartoons. “Did you lock your door?” “Uh-huh.” His hands were already sliding up under her sweater. “I usually do when I’m breaking federal law on my computer.” She shifted her hands to allow him to tug the soft pink wool over her head, taking her ivory satin bra with it. Then he pulled her out of her chair and into his lap, filling his hands with her breasts. His mouth crushed down on hers, fierce and hungry. Her breasts swelled and ached as he shaped them with his hands while his tongue plundered her mouth. She shifted in his lap until her knees straddled his legs and her pussy—another word he had taught her that morning—rubbed against his cock. It wasn’t enough, she wanted him stuffed up inside her but his hands were doing such wonderful things to her taut and swollen nipples that she could not bring herself to move. Goddess! All she had to do was look at him and he lost all control. He pumped his hips against Anissa’s pussy, torturing them both through their jeans. How many times had he already fucked her today? You’d think he wouldn’t have anything left in him, but somehow she turned him into a perpetual fucking machine, ready to go off the minute he got his hands on her skin. You’d think he’d somehow dropped twenty years off his age. He drank in her little whimpers and moans as their tongues danced and dueled. Her nipples were hard little beads pressing into his palms and she’d shown him already that they were so damn sensitive. One of these days he was going to make her come just by sucking on them. But not now. Right now he wanted inside that hot little core of hers with an urgency that wasn’t going to leave a whole lot of time for preliminaries. He had to stand her up to get her jeans off and his body whimpered like a baby at the temporary loss of contact. She’d taken her pink moon boots off when they came in, so when he shoved the denim down around her ankles, she stepped out of it easily. He was tempted to rip her scrap of a thong off her hips but managed to dredge up just enough self-control to drag it down and out of the way with her jeans. The he leaned forward in his chair and buried his face in the soft black curls of her pussy. She was already dripping wet, which astounded him. He’d never been with a woman who was so responsive, who wanted him this much, this often. She widened her stance to give him access and he slid his hands around her ass to hold her in place

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while he did his level best to lick up every drop of juice from her pink puffy lips. Then he licked along the seam before pushing his tongue in to circle the rim of her vagina and on up inside, making his cock jealous. There was so much lubrication he couldn’t resist gathering some on his index finger and running it around the rim of her other hole. Her moan sounded more like pleasure than disapproval, so he slid the finger up to the first knuckle inside her ass and switched his tongue to flick against her turgid little clit. “David!” She was a screamer, he’d already figured that one out and was delighted by it. He nipped at her clit with his lips covering his teeth and worked his finger in another inch. “Yes.” And with that she came, a fresh wash of juice flowing over his face as she spasmed, her anus clamping down like a vise on his finger. He took one last swipe with his tongue then pulled back so he could shift his other hand and slid two fingers up into her twitching pussy. She ground down on them with a low, happy moan and rode out the rest of her orgasm on his hands. He saw her knees begin to buckle as the tremors ebbed, pulled his hands out and got them around her waist just in time to catch her as she tumbled back into his lap. After a long, wet kiss, he shifted her into the chair and stood, his hands fumbling with the button and zipper of his fly. He pushed the jeans down to his ankles, his briefs with them. As he moved to step out of the tangle of cloth, the back of his knee hit the filing cabinet they used as a footstool and he sat down hard on the cold steel surface. Anissa pounced. There was no other word for it. When she saw him sit, her eyes lit up with glee and before he could register what was happening, she was on her knees in front of him with her head in his lap. She made a tiny humming sound just before her lips closed over the tip of his cock. “Fuck.” Dave held the edge of the filing cabinet in a white-knuckled grip as his hips lifted up to meet Anissa’s mouth. She swirled her tongue around the head of his penis then ran it down along the ridge to circle each of his balls in turn before trailing it back up to lick the drop of pre-cum off the slit. He tried to figure out how to work this—he could just drag her up onto his lap right here but before he could move, she’d sucked him back into her mouth and begun pumping up and down with her fist wrapped around the base of his shaft and moving in sync. All he could do was throw his head back and flex his hips with every pull while her cheeks hollowed and puffed as she moved on him. He wasn’t going to last long. His abs were clenched tight and so was his ass, every muscle in his body was coiled and taut. “You want me to come down your throat, sweetheart?” “Yessss.” She murmured the single syllable around his cock, taking a moment to kiss and lick the glans before she went back to sucking him her breath hot on his wet skin. She tightened her grip with her fingers on his cock and added her other hand to the party, cupping and gently squeezing his painfully tight balls.

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She didn’t have to tell him twice. He pumped his hips up off the cabinet and groaned, probably loudly, before yelling her name. She swallowed, pulling him deeper into her throat. “Anissa!” he bellowed just as he spurted hard and fast into her mouth. She swallowed again, drawing another jet of seed but she swallowed that too. When he was panting and limp, she cleaned him off with a wet, sucking kiss and a swipe of her tongue before laying her cheek on his quivering thigh and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Up here, you.” Using what little bit of strength he had left, he caught her under the armpits and dragged her upright and between his legs. She leaned into him and he caught her lips in a long, tender kiss. He tasted his semen on her lips, her wetness on his and the sweetness that seemed to be her natural state. “Thank you.” “Mmm.” She nuzzled his ear. “Thank you.” They heard a throat clearing and a loud knock on the office door. “Ben and I are gonna run downstairs and get a Coke from the machine. You guys want anything?” “Eric.” Shit! Dave hid his face in Anissa’s tousled curls. He cleared his own throat to try to get his voice under control. “Two of anything with caffeine and sugar,” he called back. “Can we escape while they are gone?” Anissa’s voice was muffled—she had her face mashed into his chest. He kissed the top of her head, then reluctantly moved her off his lap to stand “I wish.” He leaned over and opened the bottom drawer of the file cabinet, pulled out a roll of paper towel and a bottle of window cleaner. He handed Anissa several sheets of the toweling and used a few more to wipe himself off. It only took a second to get his jeans back in place since they’d never gone past his ankles anyway. Then he spritzed off the top of the cabinet and the seat of his desk chair, threw the evidence in the trash can and kicked that under his desk. Anissa sank into Eric’s chair and finger-combed the tangles from her hair, her face still a bright, flaming red. “It’s all right, sweetheart. They’re not going to judge. It hasn’t been very long since both of them were in new relationships. I’ve walked in on Eric and Lori a time or two.” Not right in the middle of things but close enough.” She narrowed her eyes and gestured as he tossed the cleaning products back in the drawer and slammed it shut with his foot. “‘Tis good you are prepared for such occurrences. Nothing more than a normal day at the office?” Goddess, she was cute. He laughed and pulled her up out of Eric’s chair and kissed her hard before dropping her into his own chair. “I have never so much as kissed another woman in this office. But I do eat in here all the time. That stuff is mostly used to clean up Mountain Dew spills and pizza sauce.”

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“Humph.” Her lips twitched, though he could tell she didn’t want him to see her smile. “You could do with a cleaning staff here as well, I see.” No arguing with that. He leaned over Anissa and tapped a couple of keys, closing out the applications he’d been using. “You’re clear through US customs but I still have work to do with the British government in case anyone tries to track you back that far.” Then he walked over to open the door and plopped down on the file cabinet seconds before he heard the tap of footsteps in the hallway. Eric and Ben entered the office with poorly feigned indifference, Eric whistling tunelessly. They both smiled at Anissa but neither of them managed to look her in the eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?” Dave asked Eric after the sodas were handed round. Eric slumped into his chair. “Looking for you.” Montoya dropped into one of the student chairs by the doorway and swung the door shut with his foot. “Thought you needed to see this in person.” Eric held pulled a folded up sheet of copy paper from his jacket pocket. Dave felt the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up. He reached out and took the piece of paper, unfolded it slowly. A wanted poster. It was hard to believe they actually had those anymore but apparently they did. “I had to go pick up a package at the post office this morning. Baby present,” Eric explained. “It’s a different name and the faces don’t quite match but—” “Yeah.” David ran his hands through his hair. “The good news is this doesn’t match up with the entry dates stamped on her passport and it isn’t the same name. The face is a drawing, thank the goddess. It could be any vaguely middle-eastern woman.” “You’ve got a passport?” Now Ben addressed Anissa directly. She nodded and handed over the document. “What is it David? Show me.” He handed over the poster. “Remember I told you that the United States is at war. It is very easy right now to get someone in trouble with the government just by accusing them of being an Islamic terrorist.”

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Chapter Eleven “Terrorist?” Anissa wasn’t familiar with the term but she understood the general concept. She had no doubt that the face in the drawing was meant to be hers. The name however had been a guess on Murdoch’s part—it had to be him behind this, she had no doubt of that. He only knew her real name, Miriam and he had given her an Arabic surname, Bin Rashid. But the black hair and violet eyes were a damning combination. “Well at least we know now how he intends to strike.” David pulled her hands into his chafing them gently. “And we know he isn’t watching our every move, or he’d know what name she was using and the dates we put on her passport.” “Yeah. But it also means he knows how to work within the system. This is on the DOJ website,” Eric warned. “And Homeland Security. At least it was. I still know a few back doors. It’s gone now but it may pop back up when he figures it out.” David nodded at his friend. “Good. I just got her passport up with US Customs and Immigration. Since she entered from England, I want to get her into the British system too, for backtracking.” “I’ll take the airline,” Eric offered. “I did some work for one of those, I can get in pretty easily.” Ben growled low in his throat. “I can’t hack but I do have a couple favors owed from someone in the State Department. Let me know if we need them.” “I do not want any of you to get in trouble for me.” Anissa wanted to scream at them and to cry at the same time. She could not believe how quickly or completely these friends of David’s had rallied behind her. Why would these men be so willing to risk their freedom for a woman they had never met? Possibly even their lives if Murdoch grew as murderous as she believed he could be. Bad enough she would have to worry about David, the man she had so quickly fallen in love with. Now she would have to worry about these selfless friends as well. “If I was an evil wizard and I’d gone through all the trouble to get her on the terrorist watch list, would I just let it go at that?” David mused. He kept his grip on both her hands with one of this, while the other rubbed at the stubble of his beard. “Or would I be sure that the local cops were tipped off as to her whereabouts?” “Tipped off, definitely.” Eric began pushing buttons on his side of the room, bringing his machines to life. “So we can expect to be chatting with the cops pretty soon. Maybe local, maybe state, maybe Feds.”

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Ben nodded. “Probably. And you’ll need to be completely surprised when it happens. Because if she’s innocent, if she just arrived in the country on…” He checked the passport still in his hand. “December nineteenth, then you wouldn’t have any idea about any possible issues.” David rumbled his agreement. “I have another idea. It might draw some extra scrutiny from immigration, so I was keeping it in reserve. But it would go a long way to explaining why she’s here and why there was such a delay between our meeting last summer and her arrival here. Thing is, you’d all probably need to back me up on it.” Eric took off his glasses and cleaned them on the tail of his plaid shirt. “What the hell have you got up your sleeve this time?” David sent her a look that seemed almost apologetic. “I looked into some immigration laws. Her best chance to stay in the country is if she’s married to a US citizen.” “Married?” Anissa heard herself shriek? “You wish to pretend to get married?” Instead of looking properly horrified, his friends seemed to be pondering the possibility. David shook his head, his mop of curls bouncing around his head. “No. I already slipped the data into the system. According to the United States government, we are married. We got married in England and you waited to enter the US until all the paperwork was filed.” He pointed over at one of the machines—the one that was spitting sheets of paper into a tray. “That’s what’s been printing as we speak.” He must have sensed her distress. He squeezed her hands again. “I promise, Anissa, once the danger is over, we can have a nice quick quiet divorce, or if nobody but our friends has found out, I’ll hack in and undo it. But when I saw the opportunity, I went ahead and put that extra safeguard in place. I didn’t mean to trap you into anything. I know how important it is to you to be free.” “Sounds like you anticipated this direction of attack.” Ben’s tone was wry but the twist of his lips indicated approval. David shrugged. Her hero was not terribly comfortable with praise. “I grew up in a little different environment from most of you. I got kinda used to trying to be ready for the next line of attack.” “Got it.” Eric’s green eyes radiated a sympathy she knew he would never express in words. “So if anybody asks, we’ve known about it since summer but were keeping quiet until it was all legal and aboveboard. I can do that. So can Lori.” “And you were going to make the announcement at the New Year’s party but Eric and Lori’s news took precedence,” Ben added. “Oh, that’s good,” Eric approved but with a hint of dry humor. “Glad the little guy could help.” It was outside of enough. Now they were joking about the risks they were taking, even joking about Eric’s child. Anissa glared at David. “You will do nothing, say nothing, nothing that will endanger that family, do you comprehend?” Then she spun on Eric. “Your wife and son need you to stay safe. Keep out of this.” 114

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“Easy there, doll. Nobody’s putting Eric or the kid in the danger zone, trust me on this. Any involvement from him is strictly of a hearsay nature. There’s no crime in saying he’d heard we got married last summer. All that means is that I lied to him, so any fault is on me.” “But the computer slashing—” “Hacking,” Eric supplied. “Hacking. David you said yourself that you were breaking the law. So he must be as well.” “Anissa, I appreciate your concern but when it comes to computers, believe me, Dave and I know what we’re doing. And I’m not going to take any chances with my life or freedom.” Eric promised. “But Dave is family to me. So, yeah—I’m going to do whatever I can to help him stay out of trouble too.” “Okay, can the love-fest be over?” David stood and pulled the sheaf of pages from the tray attached to his computer. “Anissa, a few of these need to be stamped, or signed. Remember what we did on the passport?” “Of course.” Did he think she was a child, or an imbecile? She took the pages from his hand, looked for places where the color indicated a change in relief, or an afterprinting addition and she made the alterations as she had the night before. The other two men looked on in amazement. When she finished, she handed David the papers then slumped back into the big leather chair, drained as usual after using her powers. “Handy trick.” Ben looked carefully at her passport. “That’s how you made this?” David nodded and handed her the can of cola which she sipped gratefully. “Is it permanent?” Eric took the passport from Ben and whistled approvingly. “Yes.” David answered but Anissa held up her hand to stop him. She had to establish the precedent of speaking for herself. “It is permanent but that requires more magical energy to create.” “Which means we need to get you some food, doesn’t it?” David searched her face, then turned and began to shut down his bank of machines. “So guys, thanks for all the help and I’ll be in touch. Right now I’ve got a date to take my new wife to dinner.”

***** “I’m sorry for dropping that bomb on you,” David told Anissa over the dinner table. They were in the back corner of a noisy restaurant, filled with families and young couples. Unfamiliar with most of the items on the menu, she let him order for the two of them. It was insane, really to trust him the way she did, in every aspect, large and small of her life. But he asked her preferences, relayed them to the impossibly cheerful young waitress and soon Anissa had a glass of wine while David sipped at a chilled glass of beer. “It just occurred to me while I was in the immigration computer and I put it in place as backup. I wouldn’t have even mentioned it if they hadn’t shown us that poster.” 115

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“I understand.” She did, mostly. She glanced up at the television over David’s head. It was showing some kind of sporting event but for some reason there was no sound coming from the set, just a loud raucous music and the babble of conversations filling the room. It was not that she necessarily objected to the notion of being married to David but she would have preferred to have been asked—and for the usual reasons. “I don’t want you to feel obligated—” he went on. He was so clearly worried about having upset her than Anissa finally reached across the table and laid a finger across his lips. “I. Do. Not. Object.” She spoke each word slowly and clearly. “Thank you. I am overwhelmed by the lengths you have gone to for my sake. I feel…guilty for allowing it. I worry that Murdoch will hurt you and your friends. But there is nothing you have done or could do that I find offensive. Please stop trying to spare my feelings.” He shook his head. “I just want you to be safe. Maybe we should have gone a different route, hacked into Social Security like I wanted to at first and made you a US citizen.” “Then something else would have happened. I heard a phrase on television yesterday and I believe it applies here. Stop beating yourself up.” He chuckled. “Yeah, it applies. You catch on quickly, don’t you?” “I have learned to adapt at a rapid pace, yes. It has not always been easy but I have developed the skills to survive. It will be a great luxury to stay in one time period from now on.” “About that,” he began. He picked up the paper napkin off the table and began to twist it into a variety of shapes. “You believe your mother and your grandfather are still alive. So does that mean that Djinn normally live more than eight hundred years?” Yes, she could see where that might add an inconvenient element to their already awkward relationship. She hastened to put him at ease. “Only if we remain in the Otherworld. When we are on this plane, we live and age as humans. So if I do not return to my homeland, I will grow old just as any other woman in this world.” “That’s gotta suck. Is there nowhere in the Otherworld where you would be safe from your grandfather?” She shook her head. “I have no notion. He is—was—a very powerful Djinn. I was only a child and had no dealings with the other races of that plane. Perhaps one of the other groups would offer refuge but I would not even know whom or how to ask.” “But to give up hundreds of years of your life—surely it would be worth the trouble to find out?” “I truly have no desire to do so.” She smiled, knew it might be a little sad but she tried to project a reassuring image. “I have already lived—existed at least—for a very long time. Now I would rather live for a brief human span than to merely exist for centuries more.”

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His smile began in his eyes then spread to his sensuous, mobile lips. “As long as you promise not to stick around because you think you owe me, okay? Promise me that?” How could such a strong, brilliant, honorable man be so unaware of his own worth? Did he not know how appealing he was, how much she wanted to be with him just for her own pleasure—whether in bed or across the dinner table? Surely the women of this time must have all taken leave of their senses to have overlooked such a man. “I promise you, David. I swear on my very life that I will never act toward you with any sense of obligation. Any choices I make will be made freely.” “Okay then.” The waitress arrived at their table with a large platter of little cracker-like triangles covered with meat and vegetables and cheese. After she left, David grinned at Anissa. “And now I get to teach you about nachos.”

***** Dave had insisted on stopping to pick up a ring on the way to the movie theatre. That was a prop he didn’t want to be caught without. He hit the ATM and got his maximum amount of cash from three different accounts, which he figured added up to enough for a modest wedding set. In a college town, picking up something for cash wouldn’t be all that remarkable. He made Anissa wait in the record shop next door, however. She was too damn memorable. He measured her finger with a strip of paper and took that inside with him since they wouldn’t have time to get anything sized. He hit pay dirt at the first jewelry store. Rather than just the traditional diamonds, they had engagement rings featuring colored stones, including a selection of amethysts that were almost exactly the color of Anissa’s eyes. The bored-looking young clerk brought them out of the case and helped Dave find one the size of his strip of paper. Dave added a pair of white gold bands to the purchase and walked out of the store barely fifteen minutes later. Putting on wedding rings in the front seat of the Jeep wasn’t particularly romantic but it got the job done. And that he reminded himself was all that really mattered. The movie had been fun, watching Anissa watch the film had been even more so. She’d held his hand through the whole thing, though she’d been too wrapped up in the picture for him to try anything else. They’d watched the latest spy flick and she’d about jumped out of her seat at each gunshot or explosion. He had high hopes for the rest of the evening too, based on the way she’d squeezed his hand and licked her lips during the sexy parts. All his plans were shot to hell when he pulled into his driveway and saw the deputy sheriff’s patrol car there ahead of them. “Ready, hon?” She nodded and gave him a grim little smile. “I hope so.”

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“Just remember, if it gets too confusing, lapse into Turkish. And tell them you want a lawyer.” “And never forget that we are married,” she added, making a fist and touching her ring to his. “Right. Now you wait in the car for a second while I go see what these officers can possibly want.” He got out of the car slowly, his hands fully visible. It had been a long time since he’d been on the wrong side of the law but it wasn’t something you forgot. The deputy was quicker and waiting for him when David walked up the drive. “Hello, Deputy. Is something wrong?” “Professor David Garvaglia?” He pronounced it wrongly, but somehow Dave didn’t think it was a good time to correct him. “That’s me.” “We received an anonymous tip that you may be harboring a suspected terrorist. Would you ask the lady to get out of the car please?” “Sure but what does this have to do with my wife?” “Your wife?” “Sure.” He stepped back toward the Jeep and beckoned to Anissa. “Honey, come on out. The officers want to talk to us.” He turned back to the cop. “She’s from one of those little countries that’s always at war, so anyone in uniform tends to make her a bit nervous.” “And which little country would that be?” The deputy’s partner was out of the car with her hand on her sidearm as Anissa slowly exited the front seat of the Jeep. “Belisara. But she lived in England before coming here.” Anissa walked up and David took her hand. “Anissa, this is Deputy…” Dave read the guy’s nameplate in the glow of the porch light he’d left on. “Thornton. Deputy, my wife, Anissa Garvaglia.” “Ma’am.” “Pleased to meet you, Deputy.” Anissa held out a hand and the cop wavered uncomfortably before he eventually shook it. “Won’t you please come inside and have some coffee or tea while you explain why you are here?” “Ma’am, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you to the sheriff’s department and ask you some questions.” “Excuse me?” David stepped up and tucked Anissa behind him. “Exactly what do you mean by that? My wife has done nothing wrong.” “She’s on the terrorist watch list, sir. We have to hold her until someone from Homeland Security or the FBI can come question her further.” “Let me see the warrant.” “This is just for questioning. There’s no arrest warrant at this time.”

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“Questioning in regard to what?” “I already told you. Suspicion of terrorist activity.” “I don’t see how. She’s only been in this country for two weeks.” “That’s not what we’ve been told sir.” His face was getting redder, his tone more taut and Dave figured he was just about to blow. But Dave knew the law well enough to know that he needed more than just an anonymous tip to bring someone in. “Honey, you’ve got your passport in your purse, right?” He’d picked her up one of those on the way into town. “Of course.” Anissa handed him her shoulder bag. “Do you want to dig through and get it, or can I pull it out for you?” Dave held the bag out toward the deputy. “I’ll do it.” The female deputy had come around to stand next to her partner. She took the purse and rooted through it. Dave knew there wasn’t much inside—a brand-new wallet, a hairbrush, a lipstick and the passport. She pulled out the latter, held it up to the porch light. “Belisaran, all right. Last stamp is entering the US on December nineteenth. Before that, a year and a half in the United Kingdom.” “What’s the name?” Thornton was tapping his foot impatiently and it was all Dave could do not to step on it to make it stop. “Belak. Anissa Miriam Belak. Not Bin anything.” “Miriam. That’s the name on the watch list.” Thornton seemed to think that was close enough. Dave snorted. “It means Mary in about twelve languages. How common do you think that is?” The female deputy nodded. “He’s right on that one, Frank. It’s really common. You can’t pull someone in because her middle name is Mary.” “And she matches the picture.” “What picture?” Growing up on the street, you learned how to bluff. “The wanted poster.” “Come again?” Dave knew he was growling but didn’t care. The female deputy—her name badge said Johnson—pulled a folded piece of paper from her notebook and handed it to Dave, ignoring her partner’s blustering objections. Dave stepped into the light to study the picture as though he were seeing it for the first time. “It’s close, I’ll give you that. But it’s not my wife. Though if someone saw this and then saw her with me, I can see why they’d call. Especially if it was some student I failed last semester.” “Why don’t we take you up on that offer of coffee?” Deputy Johnson offered. “Talk about this inside, out of the cold?”

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Thornton looked like he was going to object until she stared him down, then he nodded a grudging assent. He watched intently as Dave unlocked the front door and led them inside. “Nice house,” Johnson noted. “Looks like it could use some work, though.” “We just moved in.” Dave helped Anissa out of her coat and ushered her into a chair, motioned the deputies to take seats at the kitchen table. “I bought the place while we were waiting for the paperwork to come through for Anissa to immigrate.” “You just got married since the nineteenth?” “No.” Anissa was the one who answered while Dave started up the coffeemaker. “We were married in Yorkshire. In August.” “But it took a while for the governments to work out the details,” David added, glad they’d rehearsed their story in the car and over dinner. “I was so glad to be able to join him for the holidays.” Her violet eyes gleamed, even he almost believed her. “Being back together with David made this the most wonderful Christmas ever.” “Anyone who can back you up on this story?” Ah, Thornton—a trusting soul. “Well, we can dig out her airline ticket, I think. Plus her passport, which you have in your hand. We stapled a copy of the marriage certificate in the back.” That touch had been Ben’s idea and Dave mentally thanked him. “We spent Christmas with our friends Eric and Lori Gordon. But since they just had a baby on New Year’s Eve, I’d appreciate it if you’d wait ‘til morning to bother them.” Coffee streamed into the carafe and Dave pulled four mismatched mugs out of the cabinet, then handed them around while the deputies studied the fake passport. “Yep, here it is.” Johnson unfolded the marriage license. “Looks like it’s all in order, Frank. I don’t think we have any business dragging these nice people downtown. We’ll write this up, then if we have any further questions, we can contact you in the morning, right?” She drank down a good third of her mug of coffee, barely wincing at the heat. Anissa gripped hers with both hands, which were shaking a little but nerves weren’t out of place in this situation. “Sure. Only place we were going tomorrow was over to Ann Arbor to the mall.” He tipped his head at the faded wallpaper. “Anissa’s in a hurry to get the place decorated, now that the holiday rush is past.” “You really think this might have been a disgruntled student?” Thornton glared over his coffee cup, thick gray eyebrows knitting together over his beak of a nose. Dave shrugged. “Could be. Or a prank. Some dumbass students have a really twisted idea of what’s funny. Or maybe someone was just paranoid and saw a pretty girl who looks a little like the one on your poster. I have no idea. But I do know my wife is neither Islamic nor violent.” “Want to tell me about those swords I saw hanging in the living room as we walked through?” Thornton obviously wasn’t done yet.

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Dave shrugged. “It’s a collection. I’m into medieval reenactment. That’s why I was in England last summer.” He gave Anissa what he hoped was a suitably besotted smile. “They’re all registered and zip-stripped to their brackets for safety.” And on his keychain was a thumb knife that would cut through a zip-tie in a second but the cops didn’t need to know about that. Thornton muttered something about University nutcases and finished his coffee. Johnson gulped hers down and sent Anissa an apologetic smile. “Thanks for the coffee, folks. We’ll be in touch.” She laid a business card face-up on the table. “Have a good night now.” “And don’t leave town,” Thornton grumbled. He stood and zipped up his jacket. “I suppose the mall can wait another day,” Dave conceded. “If this goes on longer than that, the lawyers are going to have to get involved.” Thornton started to say something but his partner stopped him with a hand on his arm. “That’s perfectly understandable. Good night.” They moved back toward the door, then out to their patrol car. Dave and Anissa stood in the doorway until the lights were no longer visible down the road. “Well, that didn’t go nearly as badly as it could have.” Dave closed and locked the front door, turned off the porch light. “What do you mean? I was so frightened I thought I was going to be sick.” Anissa sank onto the sofa with her face in her hands. “They didn’t take us in. That means they believed us, at least more or less. It’s a start.” He sat down beside her, rubbed her back with both hands. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. We’ll work it out.” She didn’t answer, just turned her head into his chest and threw her arms around his waist. It felt so good to hold her, it took him a second to figure out she was crying. Oh hell, what was he supposed to do now? The only think he could do was gather her close and keep rubbing her back and whispering that everything was somehow eventually going to be all right.

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Chapter Twelve “Good morning, sweetheart. Time to wake up now.” “Mmm.” Waking up next to David was a very good thing—Anissa had discovered that the day before. Waking up underneath him was even better. Anissa stretched and rubbed her breasts against the crisp hair and taut muscles of his chest while he very thoroughly kissed her awake. The thick press of his erection between her thighs had her instinctively opening her legs and tilting her hips up to welcome him in. “Good morning indeed.” “Goddess.” He adjusted himself slightly then slid home in one strong push. The squelching sound told them she was already prepared and wet. It seemed she always was when he was near. Her feet came up around his thighs, her heels digging into his strong corded muscle as he slowly stroked into her then even more slowly pulled almost out. The faintest trace of dawn filtered through the window where they had forgotten to close the curtains the night before. It was so easy to lie here and think of nothing but David and the way he made her body and heart sing with his touch. Wrapping her arms around his neck she pulled him down, until all his weight was on her and not on his elbows and their mouths met for a kiss so deep and intimate it was almost more intense than the sex act itself. His whiskers scratched at her chin and cheeks but it did not matter. He could shave every day or never again and she would treasure every bit of him just the same. His hair could grow longer than hers or he could cut it to the scalp and she would not care. He was still her beloved David and that was the only thing of true importance. He slid his hands behind her thighs to pull her legs up higher—around his waist, which lodged his cock more deeply inside her core. She could feel the tip pressing against her womb with every thrust as his strokes grew shorter and faster. He finally tore his lips away from hers when they were both struggling to breathe. She heard a soft mewl and only vaguely realized it had emerged from her own throat. She gasped for air and gripped his back, hoping her nails weren’t wounding him. When David turned his face into her neck and sucked deeply at the tendon where it met her shoulder, she cried out his name and screamed as the pleasure burst within her. Violet sparks flashed behind her eyelids as her body convulsed, her arms and legs squeezing his torso almost as tightly as her pussy squeezed his cock. Greedily she held him as close as she possibly could, held his cock deep within her until she heard his own shout, felt his body tense, then felt the warm spurt of his seed gushing inside her. Even when the tremors had stopped racking them both, she held him close, refused to relinquish the warmth and comfort of his weight pressing her into the mattress. 122

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Sweat slicked both of their bodies and the cool winter air chilled her skin when he finally lifted himself back onto his elbows. “You okay, princess? What’s with the tears?” She had not even known she was crying. She shrugged and tried to hide her face in his shoulder but he held her down against the pillows gently kissing away each of the tears. “What’s wrong, Anissa? Did I hurt you or something?” “No!” To her horror a fresh pair of drops escaped from her eyes to roll down the sides of her cheeks, though he kissed each away before it could fall to the pillow. How could she tell him that it was just too wonderful to be borne? That she was so happy to be in his arms at this moment that she feared the devastation that would come when their charade of marriage was discarded? Instead she shook her head and forced herself to smile. “I am so happy to be here with you. To be free. It—overwhelms me at times.” It was most of the truth and she hoped it would suffice. “If you say so.” His gaze remained skeptical even as his lips smiled. He brushed her tangled hair back from her face with gentle fingers. “If I do say something or do something to hurt you, will you tell me though? I was never very good about figuring out that sort of stuff. Promise me you’ll let me know if I do something stupid and give me a chance to fix it. I’m no good at relationships but I don’t want to chase you away.” The man was insane. No good at relationships? Clearly every single woman he knew was a blithering idiot. Her smile was less forced this time. “I promise. When you make me angry, I will bring it to your attention. But you must assure me of the same. I am the one unfamiliar with this time and place. Surely I will err from time to time.” “Good.” He sighed with such satisfaction and relief, another corner of her heart crumbled. “And I promise too.” He threaded the fingers of both hands through hers and pinned hers to the pillow beside her head. “Total honesty. For as long as it lasts.” “So be it.” They sealed the vow with a chaste brush of his lips across hers. Then he shook his head and grinned as he withdrew from her body and bounded out of the bed. “Now it’s time to get moving woman. We’ve got things to do today.” “We do?” She reluctantly allowed him to pull her from under the covers. “I thought the policeman told us we must stay home.” “First of all, he doesn’t have any real authority to back that up. Secondly, he only said not to leave town. So I figure it’s a good day to go buy a couple of gallons of paint and get started on the living room. After all, what’s more normal than a couple of newlyweds fixing up their new house?” She eyed him, skeptical of his sudden cheerful mood. “I thought you said I would not have to paint.” “Come on it’ll be fun,” he coaxed. “You get to pick the color.”

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He still had hold of her hand as he drew them both toward the bathroom. “Of course we need to get cleaned up first. And we’ll definitely need to take a bath together after.” “I see.” She crinkled up her nose and smiled back, loving his sense of whimsy and play. “So your evil plot begins to take shape. The redecoration is merely an elaborate scheme to get me into your watery clutches.” He reached into the shower and turned on the water, then pulled her close for a kiss while they waited for the stream to warm. “Damn, you’ve figured me out. Is it working?” She wiggled her eyebrows and went willingly into the tiled enclosure. “Oh my. It does appear to be successful. Who would have guessed?” It tickled the hell out of him to make her smile. Didn’t even matter how, not really. She got such a kick out of the simplest things. Messy finger food, girly earrings, or hot steamy sex in the shower. Come to think of it, he did have a preference. But the others were pretty damn cool too. He watched her bend over the costume jewelry displays in Target on the way to the paint department and couldn’t resist the urge to buy her some trinkets. “The good ones are over here.” He pointed at the glass case with the real stuff. “Look, there are some purple ones that match your ring.” “Amethyst.” She smiled as she corrected him. “And they are almost as beautiful as my ring. But those are so much more expensive. These over here are just—fun.” “So get some. Pick out two or three pair and throw them in the cart.” And while she was choosing, he motioned for the clerk to ring up the good ones. “You are sure?” She dithered between some big dangly things with blue stones and a pair of fake gold hoops. Dave just shook his head and reached over her shoulder to grab both pairs. It was worth it to see the envious grin of the bored-looking guy at the jewelry counter when Anissa threw herself into his arms for a thank-you kiss. “Now for paint.” He tried to steer her toward hardware, he really did. But they got sidetracked at housewares. Sheets for the spare room and a set of dishes went into the cart, closely followed by flatware and glasses. Flatware? Who named this stuff anyway? Knives were flat. Forks and spoons were not. It might as well have been Sanskrit for all he knew. Then there were plants and candles and stuff. Candles were cool, he had a bunch he used in rituals but she had to pick out just the perfect holders and scents. Ditto plants and flowerpots. Dave just leaned on the cart and nodded as needed. He sure hoped she had a green thumb, because the only live plant he’d ever owned had been a cactus Jenna had brought him from Arizona. And it had died of thirst. “Paint?” He tried again. Unfortunately it was on the other side of the baby department. “What have you bought for the Gordons’ new baby?”

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“Bought?” “A gift?” She shook her head and tapped her foot. “Please do not tell me you have not bought a gift for your best friend’s new son.” Oh shit, that’s right. When people had a kid, you were supposed to buy them something. Right, like he had any clue about babies or what they needed. He shrugged helplessly. “Men.” She quickly started pawing though itty-bitty outfits with her brow furrowed and her lower lip caught between her teeth. “This is cool.” He held up a neon green stuffed dragon. “Eric and Lori will get a kick out of this.” “That is good. But not enough.” She turned to examine a car seat and shook her head before whispering, “There is so much I do not know, David.” “You’ll catch up. If it’s any consolation I don’t know what any of this shit is either.” He pointed to some sort of absurdly expensive thing labeled a “baby gym”. “How about that?” He sighed and loaded it into the overflowing cart when she nodded her approval. “Now paint?” This time they made it. He let her pore over the color samples while he stocked up on rollers and pans and brushes. He got back to find that she’d narrowed it down to three. “This ivory is very popular in the magazines. Very neutral. It would blend with any sort of rug you chose. The same is true of the pale gray. Which do you prefer?” “Booorrrring.” He knew neutral was supposedly good but he didn’t want bland and sedate. “What else have you got?” Her eyes sparkled and she pulled the third sample out from behind her back. “I knew you would say that. Your furniture is midnight blue. How about this yellow?” Dave whistled. The sunny color might just be the ticket to stave off the winter blues. He nodded. “If you think so.” Besides it was only paint. If he didn’t like it, he could change it again next week. They got home and covered up the furniture, then carefully taped up the woodwork. Dave dragged in a ladder and was doing the upper halves of the walls while Anissa did the trim around the baseboards and windows. She even let him put some music on and he was teaching her the finer points of Black Flag’s musicology when the knock sounded at the front door. At first they didn’t hear it over the music but the pounding got louder and Dave registered the interruption. “Honey, can you hit pause on the stereo?” he yelled as he climbed down the ladder, roller still in hand. He glanced out the front door before loosening the chain and deadbolt. “Deputy Thornton. Won’t you come in?” He stepped back to allow the older man into the room. The deputy looked around at the plastic draped furniture and actually seemed to crack a smile when he saw the

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big yellow heart David had put on the far wall to test the paint. He nodded politely to Anissa. “I just stopped by to say that so far everything you’ve told us has checked out. You’re free to go shopping out of town if you want.” He didn’t look thrilled about it but he was being polite, so Dave wiped his paint-spattered hand on his pants then held it out. “Thanks. And if you ever find out who tried to get us in trouble, I wouldn’t mind knowing. But I really appreciate you stopping by—I know you didn’t have to do that.” The deputy shook his hand carefully, then checked his own for paint. “Yeah, well I remember what it’s like to be a newlywed. Congratulations, kids. Happy New Year.” After he left, Anissa turned to Dave. “That was a good visit, correct? They believe us now?” “Well, so far.” “But it is not over?” “No not ‘til we find Murdoch and put a stop to his shenanigans once and for all.” Had he really just used the word shenanigans? The paint fumes must be getting to his head. She twirled a lock of hair around her finger, adding a yellow stripe to the ebony curl. “Or until he finds us.” He couldn’t stand the look of foreboding in her eyes. “That would just make our lives easier. Get it over with.” Of course he wasn’t in such a big hurry to get it over with, not if it meant Anissa would move on with her new life and leave him behind. Okay that’s it. Something in Dave’s brain snapped. He was goddess-damned tired of being serious. He fought to keep from grinning as he eased the still-wet paintbrush out of Anissa’s hand. “I wonder how you’d look as a blonde?” “What?” She looked up at him, total confusion in her eyes. “As a blonde.” He took the paintbrush and made two swift stripes, one down each side of her hair. Her eyes widened and her mouth formed into an “o” but no sound emerged. He’d read the studies. Indoor latex paint wasn’t toxic in small amounts. David tipped his head and pursed his lips in a bad imitation of a pretentious artist. He affected a really horrible French accent. “No? Zen how ay-bout zees?” He dotted the brush on the tip of her nose. “Zere. Pair-fect.” She still gaped at him as though she was trying to shriek but he saw the moment it registered that he was playing. The eyes slanted down and the corners of her lips quirked up. “Perfect is it? Well then how does Monsieur like this?” He’d forgotten she could teleport objects. Nanoseconds later the paint roller was in her hand and leaving a thick yellow swath down Dave’s chest.

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Of course the only thing he could do then was roar with laughter and envelop her in a bear hug, planting a smacking kiss on her lips for good measure. Anissa sputtered and laughed with joyous abandon. She was wearing the same pair of cut off sweats he’d loaned her the first day and one of his old t-shirts that read Sarcasm is the body’s natural defense against stupid. It had shrunk too much for Dave to wear it, which meant Anissa’s voluptuous curves filled it out very nicely. But t-shits were cheap. He grabbed the roller with both hands and yanked, then used it to paint a bright yellow line across the peaks of her breasts. She hadn’t yet developed the American woman’s habit of wearing a bra all the time and the wet cotton clung, letting him know her nipples were already hard. “You—you evil thing, you—” she sputtered. She darted after him as he danced backward but they both slipped on the paint-slicked plastic drop cloth and they went down in a heap with Anissa on top and the roller between them. Now this was perfect. “Oh yeah. Evil incarnate, that’s me.” He sighed happily, fisted both hands in her hair and pulled her face down for a kiss. They were both covered in strange-smelling yellow paint but it did not matter a whit when David’s mouth ravaged hers. Every nerve in her body instantly awoke, demanding David’s care and attention. Would she ever get tired of this? No. She would have been grateful to any master who released her from her bonds, would gladly have offered to trade sexual favors. But this? This had nothing to do with the box or freedom or gratitude. This was just about David and Anissa and the magic their bodies made together. Moreover, this was about love. She returned his kiss with all the hunger and ferocity that these strange new emotions brought to light. When she felt the paint roller pinch her belly between them, she used her powers to transport it elsewhere, not caring overmuch where it went. Then, just because it occurred to her that she could, she transported away David’s tshirt and baggy cotton trousers as well. “Nice trick,” he murmured between sucking little kisses on her lower lip. “Now what about yours?” “Of course.” With another couple thoughts, those were gone as well. Neither wore shoes or socks, all that remained between them was David’s stretchy cotton underwear and her own tiny satin pair. Seconds later, those had joined the rest, leaving them gloriously skin to skin. She wrenched her mouth away from his and sat upright astride him. His cock was already thick and hard between the petals of her sex and she rubbed along the heated ridge of it, spreading herself on it, wetting them both.

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“Oh yeah, that’s nice.” He reached up with both hands and palmed her breasts, which sent a spiral of need straight to her core. She leaned forward into his touch, which also put her clitoris in contact with the head of his cock at the same time as he used the thumb and forefinger of each hand to enclose her nipples and squeeze. The triple pressure was so exquisite, she caught her breath on a wordless little cry. Even the sound of her own passion excited her further, so she whimpered again. “Goddess, Anissa you’re so hot I barely know where to start fucking you.” The words were crude and unrefined. So why did they make her pussy clench and more wetness spill over his cock as she rubbed along it? She looked down at his unshaven face, spotted with paint and flushed with passion and it was so beautiful, so dear it made something in her chest hurt, echoing the ache in her womb. She rubbed her slit harder against his cock and he closed his eyes and groaned but still his fingers pinched and pulled on her swollen nipples. “Lean forward and lift up just a touch.” She trusted him implicitly to see to both of their pleasure, so she did as he asked. She whimpered when he let go of one nipple but murmured approval when he slid that hand down between them to stroke at her open folds. “So wet, so hot.” “For you, David.” Saying his name sent another pulse through her pussy, another spike of pleasure though her sex. When he positioned the thick, heavy head of his cock at her entrance, she called it again, then slowly sank down, impaling herself until he was pushing against her womb and her mound pressed down around his ballocks. She shuddered at the beauty of the sensation of his hard shaft slowly filling her hungry core. “Only. For. You.” He sat up and guided her legs around his waist. Then he enfolded her in his strong arms while her own twined around his neck and their lips met for a long tender kiss. The position limited movement to small pulses instead of powered thrusts. His strong thighs clenched beneath her, shifting her up and down on his shaft in tiny increments while his hands caressed her spine and his lips lingered on her mouth, eyelids and ear. Finally when the pressure inside her had built to a nearly unbearable level, he wiped one finger off on the tarp, clearing it of paint. Then he brought it to his mouth and wet it, then ran the tip down along her spine to her anus. He circled it slowly, softly, then with a groan that shuddered from deep in his chest he popped the very tip of his finger inside the puckered hole. “Oh.” She jumped then settled, causing a greater penetration of both his finger and cock. The dual sensation was unexpected but stimulating and it pushed her over the edge. She bit down on the corded muscle of David’s shoulder as she came, the waves of release racking her body over and over. He wiggled his finger and pumped hard with his thighs and hips, until he joined her, the scalding rush of his semen flooding her pussy and his hoarse cry of triumph ringing in her ears.

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“Damn we’re liable to kill each other before the semester starts up.” Not that he really cared. They’d toppled over on the tarp so they were lying on their sides, facing each other. Reluctantly, Dave disengaged himself from Anissa’s body and started to stand. “Semester?” She looked up at him, those incredible lavender eyes heavy and languid, then held out a hand for him to help her up. He’d been planning to duck into the downstairs bathroom and wash up a bit but looking at her made him realize he must be as big a mess as she was. Streaks of paint matted her hair and there were splotches of the stuff all over her face and body. So he hauled her to her feet and tugged her along with him toward the stairs. “School session,” he explained as they climbed. “When I have to go back to working five days a week.” Okay, four and a bit. Nobody wanted Friday classes anymore but that’s when he usually did his grading and grad student meetings. “And when does the semester begin?” “Next Monday.” Which somehow his brain had begun to associate with the end of his time with Anissa. Of course he had no reason to assume that the timing of the two would coincide. He just didn’t figure she’d want to stick around much longer than she had to. Once Murdoch was exposed and dealt with, she’d be free to find someone a whole lot more interesting than him. And he was really hoping to have Murdoch out of the way before classes started up. One thing he did not want to do was leave Anissa home all day on her own while the wizard was still out there scheming. “And today is…?” He had to stop to think, so he fiddled with the temperature controls on the shower. “Thursday. Today is Thursday.” “So we have four days left of our…” She paused, gave him a rueful grin. “Our honeymoon, as it were.” Ouch. He hadn’t thought of it in those terms and life would have been a lot more comfortable if it had stayed that way. Even as they climbed in the shower to scrub paint off each other’s skin and hair, the word honeymoon seemed to hover like a storm cloud between them. He’d created a legal marriage entirely in the cyber universe as a precaution but now that it had come into play here in the real world he had no idea how to handle it. “We need to find Murdoch.” He picked flecks of paint from one curl at a time while she scrubbed at his shoulders and arms with a washcloth. “In the next three days. There has to be some way to force him out in the open.” “If you had not severed my link to the puzzle box, I might have the power to find him, to force him to show himself. But my own powers are not that strong.” “Maybe scrying or something? I’ve met people who can do that, with a map and a pendulum. My sister Jenna has some skill with it.”

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“It is possible.” She scrubbed at a spot on his hip. “I do not know. And I do not know what you expect to do when you find him. I—I would not have you kill him outright, David. Though we would both breathe more easily if he no longer walked the earth.” “I’m hoping we can come up with some way to neutralize him—either lock his powers down somehow or negotiate a deal. Failing that, we can always have Drake eat him. He said he’d be here in a couple days.” “He would do that? You truly know a dragon who would fight for you?” It was the most hope he’d heard in her voice and it about broke his heart. Didn’t she understand the concept of friendship? Dave had lived from hand to mouth, literally stealing to feed himself and his sister but he’d always had Jenna, so there had always been hope. And now there was Anissa and for the first time in two decades there was something he wanted so much he was afraid to let himself hope. There was very little chance he was going to get to keep Anissa. He accepted that. But by all the gods, by the time she left him, she was going to know what it was like to have friends—to know how it felt to be loved.

***** He couldn’t believe she’d talked him into this but now that she had, Dave was glad he was here. They sat in Eric’s comfy living room watching Lori open the packages they’d brought. She still looked beat but happy, curled up in sweats on her couch, leaning on Eric. The rugrat was snoozing in a little cradle-thing by her feet. It—he— didn’t look much like a person but something still grabbed Dave by the throat when he saw the pudgy red little bundle. Suddenly there was another person in the world he’d kill for or die to protect. The first thing they’d done when they arrived was use Drake’s spell to ward the house. No way did Dave want his or Anissa’s presence to lead Murdoch here. That had been his biggest argument against coming. But after he’d finally remembered to set the wards on his place, Anissa had convinced him that he should share the spell with his friends. So here they were. “I hope you don’t mind that Eric filled me in on everything.” Lori had, of course, welcomed Anissa like an old friend. “He knows my brain’s going gaga with everybody talking about nothing but baby stuff all the time, so he’s been my link to the outside world. I love my mother and sister and they’ve been a huge help, but I was so freaking glad they finally went home this morning. If I heard them babbling in baby talk one more time I was going to clock one of them with Eric’s quarterstaff.” “I do not object at all,” Anissa assured her. She looked perfectly at home in her jeans and button-down shirt with her hair pulled back into a thick ponytail. She perched on a footstool within touching distance of Dave, but also where she could admire and coo over the infant. “I cannot believe you would say anything to endanger David with the authorities or his employers. In fact, your husband has been a great deal 130

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of help. Without the information he provided, we might not have been prepared to face the police last night.” Dave quickly related the story of last night’s encounter with the cops, with occasional interjections from Anissa, who spoke more as she became more relaxed around the other couple. He’d emailed some of it to Eric earlier but it was nice to hash over the details and get the input from another point of view, especially given that these were two of the smartest people Dave had ever met. “It sounds like you’ve forgotten about one possible source of information,” Lori mused. “The antique store owner. Now I know you probably can’t fly down to Florida to check her out but did you try calling her? Or the internet. From what you said, Dave it really sounds like she was trying to tell you something.” Dave nodded. “You’re right. We thought about that but it was midnight on New Year’s Eve and then we forgot all about it.” “I mean—” Lori began then broke off twitching her foot impatiently and nibbling on her lower lip.” “Whatever it is, say it, short stuff.” Dave was pretty sure she couldn’t come up with anything offensive if her life depended on it. “But the whole story about how she gave you the box, with the kid and his sister and everything—doesn’t it sound kind of—well—familiar?” Dave nodded. “Like it was a setup, deliberately orchestrated to push my buttons. I thought about that but the old lady’s fear struck me as pretty real at the time. And I’m sure not the only street rat who ever stole to feed a sister.” Anissa flashed her wide purple eyes at him, then narrowed them with a look that promised he’d some explaining to do later. “And now?” Eric took his glasses off and twiddled them. “I guess I need to go online and search for an antique shop. The good news is I still have the receipt for Jenna’s vase, so I can find the exact name and address of the shop.” “There you go.” Lori nodded. “And you might want to think about talking to your sister the psychic too. Who’s to say what might come in handy? If you’ve got resources, use ‘em.” “She is right, David.” Anissa smiled up at him. “You can telephone your sister tonight.” Dave started to agree but his murmur was lost in the howl as the youngest member of the gathering woke up yelling. Lori picked him up then wrinkled her nose. “Stinky.” She handed him off to her husband. “And guess whose turn it is to change him?” “Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner.” Eric took the baby, unfolded his long frame from the couch. “Be right back.” He was. Moments later he returned and handed Phillip off to Lori. “And now he’s hungry, which is decidedly your territory.”

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One of them must have seen the panic on Dave’s face when Lori shrugged and started to open the front of her sweat jacket. Some unseen signal passed between them and instead of sitting down, Eric jerked his head. “C’mon dude, let’s go hack something.” The women shared a glance and stifled giggles as the men fled. “So how are you holding up with this whole fake marriage thing?” Lori lifted the babe to her breast with a tender smile and encouraging words that were not, Anissa noted, the goo-ing sort of baby talk she had disparaged moments earlier. Anissa dipped her head. “It would be easy, very easy, to forget that it is a ruse. David is—a very special sort of man. But then you must know that.” Lori’s laugh was wry and friendly. “I know he’s crazy but in a good way. I know he totally lacks social skills, though a few seem to surface when he’s around you. He’s brilliant and funny and loyal and not nearly as unlovable as he thinks he is.” “As…he believes he is what?” “From what I’ve picked up here and there, David had a rough, very rough, childhood. Pretty much no parental figures to rely on at all. So he tends to think that the only way to get anyone to care about him is for him to take care of them. Never the other way around.” “He had no parents?” “I don’t think he even knows who his father was. And my guess is that his mother was a drug addict or an alcoholic, not very involved in raising her children.” “But is his sister not the older one? I thought that was what he had said…” “Yeah but from what I understand, Jenna was always kind of fragile, mentally and physically. I’m pretty sure Dave was always the caretaker of the pair.” “Is his mother still living?” Lori shook her head. “No. He mentioned something about her dying while he was still in high school. I think that’s when he dropped out and joined the army.” “Good.” Anissa ground her teeth together. “It saves me finding the woman and killing her myself.” The other woman gave her an approving smile. “You’re okay, Anissa. Has Dave figured out that you’re in love with him?” Anissa winced and rubbed her eyes with the back of one hand. She had hoped she was hiding her emotions better than she obviously was. “I do not believe so.” Lori nodded. “That’s what I figured. Emotions—gauging them or expressing them are completely out of his comfort zone. He’ll never figure it out until you tell him pointblank. And even then he might not understand it, if you get the difference.”

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“I think so.” Anissa pondered Lori’s words. Did David really believe something so very foolish—and so patently untrue—as that he was unworthy of love? It would explain a great deal… “And unless I’m reading him completely wrong—which is possible given the state of my brain and hormones over the last few days—he’s more than halfway in love with you too. So if you’re planning on leaving him and going back to wherever it is that Djinn live—you’d better be up front with him about that now. Hurt him and not only will I come after you but I’ll sic Wes on you too.” Once again, Anissa understood only part of the words the other woman was using but she could comprehend the gist of them. She smiled her understanding of the threat. “I do not believe he is truly in love with me. I think I am more of a…” She searched for the right word. “A responsibility, a duty to him. But I would never hurt him. That would tear out my own heart.” “Good then we understand each other.” Lori shifted the babe to her other breast. “And I hope we can get to know each other better, Anissa. I know that it must be hard adjusting to a whole new millennium. And I’m sure that there are some areas David knows absolutely nothing about—like fashion for instance. I’m on maternity leave this semester and I know I’ll be begging for adult conversation during the school day. So any time you need female company or information, just give me a call. Another few weeks and we can even go shopping together.” “That would be lovely.” She continued to be amazed at how readily David’s friends had accepted her. She told him as much in the Jeep on the way back to his home. “Well, after the whole dragon incident, a Djinni wasn’t likely to bother them all that much. And you’re a whole lot prettier than Drake.”

***** David turned the Jeep into the drive leading to the farmhouse and Anissa saw the familiar red and blue lights atop the vehicle that waited in front of the house. “Oh shit, not again.” David turned off the vehicle and turned to Anissa. “Wait here.” “No.” She climbed out of the vehicle and came around to stand beside him as they waited for the officers to join them. “Whatever the problem, we will face it as husband and wife. Side by side.”

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Chapter Thirteen “Mrs. Garvaglia?” “Stopping by for coffee again, deputies?” What the fuck did they want this time? “Mrs. Garvaglia, we’re going to have to ask that you come with us this time.” Thornton wasn’t smiling or relaxed at all tonight. Neither was his partner, which was slightly more worrisome. “You have a warrant there, Deputy?” “Trust me, it’s gonna go worse if you make me wake a judge up. She’s not under arrest—yet.” Thornton looked Dave straight in the eyes. If the man was bluffing, Dave never wanted to take him on in a poker game. “Can I drive her downtown, or does she have to ride in the backseat?” Thornton and Johnson exchanged glances, then Thornton nodded. “We’ll follow you to the courthouse. Drive slow.” “Fair enough.” He turned to Anissa, squeezed her hand. “Get back in the car, okay? I’ll be right there.” Her absolute trust awed him when she nodded and followed his instructions without hesitation. He could only pray he didn’t let her down. He turned back to Thornton. “Before we go—I have a concealed carry permit in my wallet and a Beretta in a shoulder holster under my coat. I’d like to lock it up in the house before we go, unless you’d prefer me to just hand it over to you. I’d trust you to get it back to me.” Thornton sighed. “Johnson, escort the professor inside. But make it snappy. It’s goddamn cold out here.” Dave didn’t lead Johnson down to the gun safe. He didn’t think they needed to see the full collection. For tonight the small document safe in his office would suffice. She watched with professional caution but didn’t look too worried as he stripped off his jacket and zip-front hoodie to unbuckle the holster. He folded it, gun and all and laid it in the small floor safe. “Now I’m adding the boot knife.” Johnson cracked a wry smile but she nodded for him to go ahead. “You always walk around this well armed? College professors have sure changed since I took classes.” He shrugged and removed the sheath from around his ankle. “The knife, always. That’s a holdover from growing up two blocks off the Cass Corridor in Detroit. Didn’t learn about guns until Uncle Sam put one in my hand but then I got real comfortable with them real quick. You guys showing up last night told me that there might be someone out there with a grudge against my wife. So, yeah, the old paranoia kind of kicked back in. You want to search me for anything else?”

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“No.” She shook her head, motioned for him to close the safe. “You’re smart enough to know you’ll be scanned at the courthouse.” “Yep.” He shut the safe, spun the dial and asked her straight-out, “Should I be calling my lawyer?” Johnson raised her hand and wiggled her fingers. “Probably wouldn’t hurt.” “Thanks.” He led the way out of the house, paused to lock the door behind Johnson. With a quiet word, he reset the magical wards, then saluted. “See you downtown, deputies.” As they drove, he opened his cell phone and dialed Wesley. “Get your sister to haul ass to the county courthouse.” Wendy was a criminal lawyer in Ann Arbor, which was little more than half an hour away. Since they’d ended their brief fling with no hard feelings on either side he had no qualms about asking her to help Anissa. “Tell her as much as you think you need to.” He trusted Wesley’s discretion and instincts, trusted her to know her sister better than he did.

***** Anissa poured every bit of her magical energy into projecting an air of innocence and confusion. Of course the confusion part was genuine, since they had not yet told her why she had been detained. She had been separated from David immediately upon entering the courthouse and she felt his absence as strongly as if they had removed a limb. The first thing they had done was confiscate her passport and marriage license, which she desperately hoped withstood their scrutiny. Then they forced her to stick her fingers in black ink and press them to a paper to capture her fingerprints and had her stand against a wall for some truly dreadful photographs. Finally she was ordered into a tiny, icy cold room with glass walls, barren except for a table and four metal chairs. Johnson, the female deputy stood near Anissa, while another guard in the same uniform stood by the door, his hand resting on his weapon. Two gentlemen in dark business suits entered. They looked at Deputy Johnson as though they would like her to leave but she leaned against a wall and did not move. “Ms. Garvaglia has requested that questioning be held until her attorney arrives.” “Why? Do you think you need one?” The older of the two men was clean-shaven with dark hair and piercing dark eyes. He sat in the chair directly across from her and Anissa shrank back from the blatant look of menace in his stare. “I do not know,” Anissa answered slowly and truthfully. “I do not even know why you have brought me here.” “Look, this doesn’t have to be difficult.” The younger man with longer blond hair and a more brightly colored necktie slid into the other chair and gave Anissa an ingratiating smile. “While we wait for the lawyer, why don’t you just tell us where you were this evening?”

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She liked him even less than his colleague. While the older man seemed harsh and possibly cruel, this one was—oily. She fixed her eyes on her fingers, interlaced on the glass tabletop. “We were visiting some friends of my husband’s.” Anissa had grown up in a harem where the social lie was considered an art form and she had been the unwilling mistress of a Chicago mobster. She knew that the best liars stuck to the literal truth as much as possible. The only part that was a lie was the word husband but she said it without batting a lash. “And the names of these friends?” “Mrs. Garvaglia, you do know that you aren’t required to say anything until your attorney gets here, don’t you?” Johnson still leaned against the wall but she raised an eyebrow at the two men. “I am not?” The confusion was not feigned. Anissa had no notion of current law or procedures, any more than a recent immigrant would. She looked at Johnson. “I do not wish to bring any difficulties to these people. They have been very kind to me since my arrival.” “Well, you should probably wait for your lawyer but if you were really with friends tonight, they won’t get in any trouble. They’ll just be asked to verify the time you were with them where you were and what you were doing. That sort of thing.” “They are my husband’s friends. You could ask him.” “Your so-called husband is being questioned.” The dark-haired man rolled his eyes as if he could not believe her ignorance. “So-called? I do not understand. And I do not think I wish to answer your questions. I have done nothing wrong.” “Well, we’ll be the ones to determine that, Ms. Bin Rashid—or is it really Belak?” This time the older man openly sneered. “Neither. I am a married woman and my name is Garvaglia.” By now she had convinced herself to believe in this marriage. Using David’s name sounded and felt so— right. “Of course it is,” the blond man intervened. He reached across the table and patted her hand. “But we don’t have any proof of that, now do we?” Anissa snatched her hand back and turned back to Deputy Johnson. “I do not wish to speak to these men. Not without my solicitor.” Johnson smiled, in a nasty sort of way, at the two men and jerked her head toward the door. “You heard the lady. No more questions until the lawyer arrives.” Both men shot vicious glares at Anissa and the deputy but they grudgingly stood and began to exit the room. Before they reached the door, however, it opened and Johnson’s partner, Deputy Thornton, strode in. “She’s free to go.” “What?” the two men in suits demanded as one. 136

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“Her alibi checks out.” Thornton cast Anissa a stern look but he glared at the other two men with open distaste. “The newlyweds were picking up two pizzas and a large salad at Tino’s Pizza Palace at almost exactly the time witnesses supposedly saw them across town. Mrs. Tino waited on them and she identified the little lady here down to the purple engagement ring and the puffy pink coat. Credit card transaction backs it up.” “You’re sure?” The blond man’s air of superiority obviously did not endear him to the deputies. “Yep.” Thornton glanced down at a sheet of paper in his hand. “Then they took the pizzas and a couple of presents to the home of Professors Eric and Lori Gordon, 1424 Sunrise Avenue and spent the rest of the evening there, according to the Gordons. Mrs. Gordon delivered a baby on New Year’s Eve and the Garvaglias brought over dinner and baby gifts tonight. Dr. Gordon said, and I quote, ‘The dishes and beer bottles are still by the sink if you want to come test them for DNA. Just don’t wake up the baby’.” “So that means I may go home?” She did not even have to think about the word. In her heart, David’s farmhouse was already her home—the first one she had had in hundreds of years. “We’ll see about that.” The dark man stormed from the room, barely sparing a glance for Deputy Thornton who held the door. His partner followed closely on his heels. “Soon,” Deputy Johnson promised with a reassuring smile. She and Thornton followed the other men out. Several minutes had gone by, however when Anissa was finally escorted from the room. She found David waiting for her in the lobby with a stunningly beautiful redhaired woman by his side. “Mrs. Garvaglia?” The redhead held out her hand. Her smile was unexpectedly familiar. “My name is Wendy Iverson. I’m your attorney.” Anissa took the other woman’s hand and shook, while David stepped up and wrapped a warm strong arm around Anissa’s waist, bringing instant comfort. “You okay, sweetheart?” He brushed her cheek lightly with the fingers of his other hand. She released the attorney’s hand and gave David a smile. “I am fine. A little fatigued is all.” She turned back to the other woman. “I am pleased to meet you Miss Iverson. Thank you very much for coming.” “Well, Dave is an old—friend.” “Oh.” Anissa felt the blood leave her face as she registered the innuendo. “I see.” “Emphasis on the old. And the friend.” Dave tugged Anissa close against his side and squeezed, then dropped a kiss on top of her head. “And she’s Wesley’s sister.” That explained the sense of familiarity and Anissa was heartened by David’s air of easy friendship with the tall, svelte woman, who chuckled softly. “All of which can be explained far more comfortably over drinks at Wesley’s condo.” She picked up a long

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black leather coat and shrugged it on over her elegant suit. “We’re meeting back there for the debrief.” “Sounds like a plan.” David lifted the padded pink coat and held it for Anissa to put on. Compared to the sleek elegance of the other woman she felt like a pudgy pink piglet. David, bless his chivalrous heart, did not so much as glance at Wendy once while they made their way outside to their vehicles. How, Anissa wondered, could any woman fail to fall in love with such a man?

***** “She needs food.” Dave took one look at Anissa’s drawn face and wan complexion as she dropped onto Wesley’s couch and barked the order to his hosts. “Were you using magic at the cop shop?” He’d barely kept himself from chewing his way through the walls to get to her once they’d separated them at the courthouse, even though he knew it was what had to be done. “Here.” Wes brought out several bags of chips and a couple of half-full cartons of dip while Ben handed around bottles of beer and cans of soda. Then she perched crosslegged on a footstool and opened herself a bottle of stout. “No charges were filed.” Wendy crossed her long legs in front of her and took a deep pull from a pale ale. “But there was a bomb threat at the campus library tonight and apparently several witness reported seeing someone who looked almost exactly like Dave’s new wife fleeing the scene.” She took another swig, finishing nearly half the beer this time. “They got the bomb disarmed and fortunately the time of the call coincides almost exactly with Dave’s credit card transaction at the pizza place.” “But it was a real bomb?” Ben stood, arms crossed over his chest and leaned against a wall, his black brows knitting together over his nose. “Not just a false threat?” “Yeah.” Dave popped the top on his Mountain Dew and took a drink. He wanted a beer but he wasn’t going to risk being at less than full capacity if something else went wrong tonight. “So our guy knows something about explosives.” “Well, after eight hundred years, he’s had plenty of time to learn.” Since Wendy didn’t even blink at her sister’s statement, Dave figured she’d been brought up to speed. Good. “Something Mrs. Gordon—Lori—mentioned tonight was that we had forgotten to find the woman who gave David the box. It is possible that she may be able to help us.” “Good point. You guys got a computer handy?” Since he wasn’t planning on hacking, he didn’t need to worry about using his own equipment. “Sure.” Ben stepped into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with a laptop, which he opened up on the coffee table and logged on, then turned the machine to face Dave. 138

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A few clicks later and Dave had a phone number for the antique store. “Of course Florida is in the same time zone as we are.” He keyed the digits into his cell. “But we’ll see what we get from the answering machine.” Sure enough, he was greeted by a recording. He waited for the beep, then spoke into the machine. “Hi, Ms. Lazlo, this is David Garvaglia. I’d like to talk to you about a vase I bought Thanksgiving weekend. Please call me back as soon as possible at the following number.” It was barely five minutes later when his cell phone rang. “This is Miriam Lazlo. How can I help you, Mr. Garvaglia?” “I have some questions about a wooden puzzle box,” he told her. “You wouldn’t let me pay for it…” “Did you solve the puzzle?” Her voice was taut, almost shaking as she interrupted him. “Yes.” “I see.” He heard a swallow. “And did you find the contents—satisfactory?” “What the hell kind of question is that?” He shook his head in frustration. “Look, lady I need you to tell me what you know about the box.” This time the voice was barely a whisper. “Is she there?” “What?” “The Djinni. Is she with you?” The strain in her tone practically vibrated through the phone. “Is she there now?” Okay, so she knew about the Djinni. He hesitated, afraid this was another one of Murdoch’s plots, or even someone else entirely who might be after Anissa’s erstwhile power. He must have hesitated too long. “Sir, please! Is my daughter there? Is she all right?” Dave damn near dropped the phone. He knew every eye in the room was on his and he shrugged, telling them he didn’t know what was going on. Yet. “Your what?” “My daughter. Is she—is she well?” “Holy shit. Sorry, ma’am. I mean, sorry I swore, not sorry about your daughter. She’s fine.” “Daughter?” Anissa gasped in his other ear but he ignored her. “Thank the gods!” He could hear tears now in the shaky female voice. “Lazlo, she is there and she is alive.” “Can we see her?” A man’s voice had come on the line. “As her master, will you allow us a short time to visit before you make your wishes?” “Whoa.” Dave needed a moment to process all the new information. “Slow down there.” “We will make it worth your time, sir. Please.”

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“No—I mean yes—I mean—oh fuck.” He was way too tired and frazzled to cope with family melodrama right now, let alone Djinn family melodrama. This was way worse than the normal “meet the in-laws” scenario. “Just slow down a minute. The wishes are past tense, they’re gone. And I’m not her fucking master, I’m her husband.” There were gasps from the other end of the phone, followed by shrieks once the man relayed that news to the woman. “And as long as you’re not in league with that asshole Murdoch, you’re welcome to come visit. We live in Michigan.” “We know.” The woman’s voice was back on the line. “I took the address from your credit card information. We have taken a hotel room in your town. We can be at your home in minutes.” “Wait.” He set the phone down and turned a bit so he could take both of Anissa’s hands with his. “Anissa, your parents want to come see us.” “My—my mother is on that telephone?” The words were barely a whisper and her face was pale as the snow outside but it sure looked like hope that brightened up her big purple eyes. “I think so. And she’s with a guy named Lazlo, who is probably your father. You want to see them?” “Of course. But my grandfather… What if—” “Got it.” He kept hold of one of her trembling hands with his left, picked up the phone with his right. “What about the grandfather? Is he going to try to sell her out again?” “He’s dead.” It was the man’s voice on the phone again. “Murdoch killed him years ago.” “And what about Murdoch? Can you help us stop him from coming after Anissa?” “Anissa—you call her that?” What was this bullshit? “It’s her name, isn’t it? Now answer the damn question.” “Yes, we believe we can help. Now please, may we see her?” “It’s up to her. Hold on a minute.” He held out the phone to Anissa. “Sweetheart, you want to say hi to your mom?” “I—yes. All right.” Anissa wiped her hand on her jeans and then took the phone. “Hello? Mother?” After a pause there was a torrent of conversation in a language he didn’t recognize. But he did understand Anissa’s blinding smile and the happy tears that trickled down her face. A few seconds later she handed him back the phone. “Thank you.” The man’s voice sounded as shaky as Anissa’s hands. “Where would you like us to meet you?” After a quick discussion with Ben and the others, they decided on the farmhouse. Dave was glad. It felt better somehow, to face Anissa’s parents on his home turf.

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Her parents. Wow! He was thrilled for her and at the same time, something in his stomach twisted. Well, at least now he knew where she’d go once this was all over and she left him.

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Chapter Fourteen Anissa wiped her hands on her jeans. Again. She could not believe how nervous she had become at the prospect of meeting her parents. Not just her mother but the father who had abandoned them both. David looked even more tense than she, which was some consolation. His friends were present as well, and she knew they felt entirely out of place. She would have preferred to have this meeting without an audience but she understood David’s reasoning. He did not know her mother, could not be absolutely sure that this was not a ploy of Murdoch’s making. Wesley had been tactful enough to take her sister and lover into the kitchen while Anissa and David waited in the freshly painted living room. Anissa could not look at the sunny yellow walls without a smile. She had never painted a room before, nor had she ever made love covered in paint. Both were memories to treasure, memories which so easily could have been lost in the horror of her sojourn with the police. David vanished into his office but Anissa heard the sounds of the safe, knew what he was doing. She was not nearly as naïve as he liked to believe. She knew he had left his handgun behind when the police had come, knew he was now putting it back on. Did he think she could hug him and not know the difference? And she knew he needed the assurance of the weapon to face the visitors who might be Murdoch’s lures. She also trusted him not to hurt her parents, so all was well. Except for the dancing bears that seemed to have taken up residence in her stomach. “What will she think?” Anissa spoke to David though she knew he had no more answers than she. “It has been so very long.” “She’ll be amazed at how brilliant and beautiful you’ve grown up to be.” He kissed the tip of her nose, careful not to muss the makeup she had repaired the moment they had returned to his home. “You have nothing to worry about on that front, gorgeous. Believe me.” “She was so beautiful. I remember the way she used to dance in the harem…” “Honey, the woman I met was an old lady with gray hair. Don’t get your hopes up too much, okay? Things are gonna be different.” “I know. And if she has spent much time in this realm she will have aged a great deal. I just hope she has not spent so long here that she is—near death. I do not want to lose her again so soon.” “Let’s not borrow trouble, okay? Wait and see how everything turns out.” He turned her to face away from him so he could rub her shoulders. She leaned back against him, savoring his warmth and strength.

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“Right.” She allowed him to coax her down onto the sofa. When the doorbell rang, possibly only minutes later though it seemed to be hours, Anissa leapt to her feet, only to have David, who had been perched on the arm of the sofa, push her back down. “I’m going to check, remember?” She nodded but balanced on the edge as he moved to the door, slowly looked through the small glass pane. She knew Ben and the other women lurked just behind the kitchen doorway, also armed. But none of it mattered. All of her attention was focused on the heavy wooden door. Finally, he turned the handle and swung the door wide. “Come in.” He stepped back to allow them to pass. Two figures in modern clothing and heavy coats stepped in. The man turned to David and held out a hand. “Thank you.” David allowed the handshake, nodded curtly. He may have been about to say something but then Anissa met her mother’s gaze. She heard a feminine squeal and realized the voice was her own. There was an answering squeal, she thought, then she and her mother were rushing together, meeting in the middle of the room in a flurry of hugs and kisses and chatter. “Oh, Mother!” Anissa drew back to look, really look at her mother’s face. Though Miriam had certainly aged in the last eight centuries, she was nowhere near the grayhaired relic David had described. Instead, Anissa saw a middle-aged version of herself, with only occasional white strands mingled with the dark and a very few tiny lines around her brilliant green eyes. “I cannot believe you are truly here.” “My beautiful little girl.” Tears sparkled on Miriam’s lashes and Anissa blinked back a few of her own. Her mother held her at arm’s length and examined her from head to toe. “I have not been a little girl for many years, Mother.” She tried to smile but was less than certain that she managed it. “And I was never there to see you grow. I am sorry for that, my daughter. Sorrier than I can say.” “It matters not.” Anissa had no wish to waste this reunion by dwelling on the wrongs of the past. “But you are here now. And with…him. How can that be?” She heard the sound of David clearing his throat. “Honey, why don’t I take everyone’s coats and get them something to drink? Then you can all sit down and talk.” Stars, she had almost forgotten David was there. Well, not precisely forgotten. It was uncanny how used to him she had become in just a few short days. He had become such a part of her being that he was like an arm or a leg—not always notable by its presence but the pain of its absence would be horrendous. “Of course.” She took a step back from her mother and smiled at David. “Mother and…” She found she simply could not say the word father. Not yet. “Sir. May I present

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Professor David Garvaglia—the man who used his wishes to free me from the puzzle box. And—my husband.” “Husband!” Her mother’s gasp filled the room. “Is it true then? He said as much on the telephone but I did not believe him.” Anissa cast David a worried glance, hoping he would not take offense. His lips were set in a tight line as he reached out a hand for Miriam’s coat. It was a long, elegant creation in pearl-gray wool and sable fur, so different from Anissa’s pillowy pink confection. Miriam’s long hair was gathered into a sophisticated coil at the nape of her neck, making Anissa with her unbound curls feel almost slovenly by comparison. Miriam allowed David to help her from her coat, which he draped over one arm. He moved to hang it in the closet near the door, then did the same with the tweed jacket Lazlo handed him as well. “Now what can I get everyone to drink?” He could see that Anissa’s nerves were stretched as thin as a wire and he wished there was more he could do to help her through this. He had no idea how she wanted him to handle it, so he was trying to play it by ear. “Scotch, if you have it.” The brown-haired, violet eyed man who was probably Anissa’s father gave him a tight smile and held out a hand. “I am Lazlo, though in this time and place I use that as my surname. Most of my acquaintances know me as Leon.” “Leon it is.” The gold-streaked hair did resemble a lion’s mane. Dave shook the man’s hand, with all the respect and trepidation due to the father of the woman he’d been having sex with, though he was reserving judgment until he heard a damn good excuse for abandoning her and her mother. “And you’ve met Miriam.” “Of course.” Dave stepped over and shook her hand as well. “Though I must say, ma’am, you’re looking remarkably youthful tonight.” Miriam laughed and her eyes twinkled up at him. Goddess, except for the eye color, he could see Anissa in twenty years and something in his gut clenched at the possibility. “Actually, you met Leon too. But he was in a totally different persona.” It took Dave a second, then he smacked his head. “The little thug. That was you.” Leon shrugged. “I would apologize for the ruse but you can understand that we had to be certain the box went to someone worthy of it.” Dave wanted to be pissed but he supposed on some level he did understand. He nodded to the other man. “Okay. Drinks. One scotch.” He turned to Miriam and tipped his head in question. “A glass of wine would be lovely.” He did a quick mental inventory. Yeah, he was pretty sure Wes had brought over a couple bottles of something red. He looked at Anissa and smiled. “You want a glass of wine, sweetheart?”

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She smiled back and shook her head. “No. I think I would prefer a beer, if you please. The winter wheat one.” “Got it.” He moved toward the archway to the kitchen. “Everyone have a seat. I’ll be right back.” “I will come with you,” Leon said easily, catching up with Dave in two long strides. “Perhaps you will introduce me to your friends.” Never try to put one over on a Djinni. David made a face. “Might as well. You can understand my need to take precautions.” This time Leon’s wry grin appeared genuine. “I understand very, very well. But I am not yet certain that her mother does. There will be time later for our father-to-son-inlaw chat, no?” Dave almost choked on his chuckle, looking up at the very serious warning in the male Djinni’s gaze. Then he thought about how precious Anissa was and managed a nod and a grimace. “Yeah. But right now, unfortunately, I’m the least of your worries.” “And that is why we are going to have a drink and a long, long, talk with the ladies.” Oh yeah. Dave got the drinks while his friends packed up and headed for home. Everyone agreed to meet for lunch the next day to go over plans, then they said goodbye to Anissa and took off, leaving Dave alone with his not-quite wife and her all too real parents. He figured it was Anissa’s choice about how much to tell her parents. His friends knew the truth, so he would have understood if she’d felt the need to tell them everything. But not until after he’d had a few things explained to him. He still wasn’t sure how much trust he could put in a family that hadn’t bothered to be there for her for the past eight hundred years. “Thank you for freeing my daughter.” Miriam sat beside Anissa on the middle portion of the sectional, still clasping one of Anissa’s hands. “Before we say anything else, thank you so much for that.” “Agreed.” Leon, seated on one end of the sofa, across from Dave lifted his glass. “Above all else, thank you for that.” “None needed.” Nonetheless Dave raised his longneck and drank, relishing the cold bite of the beer as it rolled down his throat. He’d really like nothing more than to get stinking drunk and ignore all of this but that wouldn’t do Anissa any good. So he turned his attention to her mother. “How did you end up choosing me? It can’t have been planned in advance. Even I didn’t know I would wind up in your shop.” “I think we need to start earlier than that. The story truly begins before Anissa was born. I was an itinerant performer, visiting the court of Miriam’s father. As my credentials and bloodline were less than pure, Rashid took great offense when I dared to fall in love with his daughter. When we discovered that Miriam was pregnant, we planned to disappear.”

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“Yeah, about that,” David interrupted. “Anissa told me that Djinn can regulate conception. So why in the hell did she get pregnant while she was still under her father’s thumb?” Miriam flushed and bowed her head. “I was a very foolish young woman. I thought that a child would force my father to allow our marriage. Obviously I was wrong.” Leon patted her hand and continued. “I had contacts at the elven court and believed we would have been welcomed there. But Rashid must have somehow found out. When I attempted to sneak into the harem, I was captured.” “Until my father died, he maintained that Leon had fled, leaving me with child. After his final duel with Murdoch, the women were ordered to leave the harem. We had nowhere to go, no money to pay our way, so I snuck into my father’s bedchamber. I found a small box of jewels which I thought I could sell. But there was a gold bracelet that drew my eye. When I fastened it around my wrist, Lazlo—Leon appeared. He offered me three wishes before he realized that it was me.” “So you freed him.” Anissa set down her beer and took her mother’s other hand. She turned, eyes shining to give her father a warm hopeful smile that about broke Dave’s heart. “You did not abandon us. Not by choice. Mother, is it not wonderful?” “Yes, my darling. And—no. It was truly wonderful to be reunited with my love after so many years and to know he had not willingly deserted me and our child. But no. I did not use my wishes to free him.” She held up her wrist. A heavy gold bracelet of Byzantine design glittered in the lamplight. “But why?” Anissa’s shocked cry echoed David’s own confusion. He hadn’t even been in love with Anissa when he’d decided to set her free. He couldn’t begin to imagine how fast he’d have done it if he’d felt the way he did now. “I would not allow it.” Leon’s voice was harsh but his smile for Miriam was tender as he slid around the corner of the sectional to sit beside her and laid his hand on her knee. “I convinced her to use her wishes to find our daughter instead. As you know, a Djinni has far greater power when imprisoned. The power is even stronger when applied to a master or mistress’s direct wish.” Okay, that he could buy. Dave nodded his understanding to the older man. No question he’d sacrifice his own freedom to find and free a child. “I used my first wish to find the puzzle box,” Miriam continued. “But since it had magic of its own, it was not easy. While you were in the power of a master, the box was—dormant and unable to be located. Once you had returned to the box, we were able to find it but Murdoch obtained it first. Only after he sold it again, were we able to retrace it and purchase it from the heir of the original buyer.” Leon picked up the story. “Neither of us was ever able to solve the puzzle. Miriam’s second wish was that she be able to do so but the wish failed. The spell Murdoch used to trap you within the box is a more sophisticated one than Rashid used on the bracelet. The puzzle box may only be opened by one who does not know the secret of what it

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contains. So we guarded the box and only allowed it to fall into hands we considered worthy.” “First we set a spell on the store that would draw in the true of heart and repel those with evil intent. Then when one such entered, we enacted the test, designed to prove both courage and mercy. You were one of the first to pass in many years. “There were others but none of them ever managed to open the box,” Miriam added. “Each time, we would find them and offer to purchase it back from the individual or their heirs. “We knew from the beginning that you were special. So I convinced Leon to follow you here and watch. We were beginning to lose hope. And then you called.” Tears sparkled in her blue eyes. The love between the two was obvious from the way Leon rubbed her shoulder and murmured words of comfort. “And not only had you opened the box but you had already set her free. We are truly forever in your debt.” “Well the only payment I want is to make sure Murdoch can never get his slimy hands on Anissa.” They talked for what felt like hours, until both David and Anissa had quit being able to hide their yawns. Dave welcomed the insights into Murdoch’s character and strategies. He’d already known that Murdoch liked to play dirty—a combat tactic Dave well understood. It worried him though, that Murdoch had taken out a powerful Djinni—Anissa’s grandfather. This guy was obviously pretty damn powerful. When it looked like Anissa was about to fall over from sheer fatigue, he turned to Leon. “There’s a spare room now, with sheets and everything. Would you two like to stay here for the night?” Leon and Miriam exchanged glances before Miriam answered. “I think we would rather return to our suite at the hotel. To be honest, we had hoped Anissa would join us.” Dave looked at Anissa and was relieved to see the look of surprise on her face. She hadn’t told her parents yet that the marriage wasn’t real and the hope that maybe she wouldn’t was a nearly painful bubble of emotion caught in his chest. She looked to him and he shrugged. “Up to you. You’re your own boss now, remember?” Her smile was so beautiful it made his stomach hurt. Then she turned it on her mother and shook her head. “No. This house is safe and well warded. But David speaks the truth. You are welcome to stay with us. There is no need for you to take a hotel suite while you are in town.” Us. Why did that one tiny word have to sound so good? Again the older couple exchanged looks of silent communication, then finally Leon nodded. “Very well. After all this time, we wish to remain close to our daughter.” “Fine.” Damn, that meant no sex, since the guestroom was next door to the master bedroom. Of course the way Anissa was drooping, she’d probably pass out the moment her head hit the pillow anyway.

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Dave stood and held out a hand to Anissa. “Let’s show your folks to their room, then we can all get some sleep, okay?” She nodded took his hand and stood, then beckoned to her parents. “Come along, Mother—Father. The bedrooms are on the upper floor. And be careful. The yellow paint is still wet.” Oh goddess, she had to mention that. Dave tried to will away the hard-on that sprang up as he remembered the paint fight and its aftermath. Good thing he was leading the way with his back to his in-laws. In-laws. Weird how that concept freaked him out way more than the thought of having a wife. Somewhere over the last few days he’d grown too damn used to that particular idea. He put some clean towels in the hall bathroom while Anissa said goodnight to her parents. Leon gave him a suspicious glare but thankfully didn’t say a word about Anissa following Dave into their room. Damn, he even thought of it as theirs instead of his. What a mess. But when they moved into the bedroom and she closed the door behind her, all his qualms vanished. There was only Anissa and her heavy-lidded lavender eyes, advancing on him with a downright predatory smile. “Umm—” He started to say something, though he wasn’t sure what. She shut him up fast when she pulled on his hair to bring his face down to hers, then planted her lips on his. “You.” She pulled back long enough to say the word then kissed him again between each of the words that followed. “Are.” Kiss. “Wonderful.” Kiss. “Thoughtful. Kind. Strong. Courageous. Brilliant. Sexy.” Since she was pushing him toward the bed as she went, he figured it was all good and let her have her way. But, damn, he liked that last one. When she stalled, he decided to be helpful and supplied his own. “Horny?” “Hmmm?” She nipped his ear this time and shoved at his chest with her hands. Given that his calves were against the mattress, the push sent him toppling backward to the bed. Damned if he was going alone. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her with him, landing on his back with Anissa sprawled on top. “And does horny mean what I think it means?” “You tell me.” He pulled her face down to his with one hand and kissed her thoroughly while his other hand slid beneath the waistband of her jeans to cup her ass. She rubbed her mound against his crotch, back and forth across his erection. “I believe it does resemble a horn. A most impressive one.” “Yeah, well that is entirely your fault. If you weren’t so damn hot, I wouldn’t be walking around hard all the time.” He kept up the kneading with one hand, while his other snaked between them to find the closure of her jeans. “Hot is good, yes?” She sucked the lobe of his ear into her mouth, while her nimble fingers slipped up under his sweatshirt.

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“Oh yeah. Hot is very good.” He got her jeans unzipped. “Oh.” She stopped cold when she found the shoulder holster and Dave froze as well, his stomach twisting into a knot. He’d never, never once, forgotten to disarm himself before getting frisky. “Give me a minute, please.” He pulled his hands out of her pants and put them on her hips to roll her off him onto the bed. “Sorry, sweetheart.” “Just hurry back.” She licked her lips, encouraging him to hurry. He stripped off the shoulder holster and placed it under the plastic milk crate that served as a nightstand. Then he peeled off the rest of his clothes at top speed, while simultaneously trying to watch as Anissa wiggled out of hers on the bed. When they were both naked, he practically dove back onto the bed on top of her. “Much better,” he murmured, though his voice may have been a little muffled. He’d landed with his face buried between her breasts. “Oh yes.” Goddess, he loved her little satisfied purr. When he turned his head and latched onto a nipple, her voice rose to a shriek. “Damn.” There went another bucket of cold water over his head. “Umm. Sweetheart? Might want to remember that your parents are in the next room.” “Oh stars.” She squeezed her eyes together and her whole body started shaking. “Hey, don’t cry, it isn’t…” He broke off when he heard the giggle that escaped her lips. He shifted to the side, pulled her into his arms and laughed along with her. “It’s been a long, long day. You want to just go to sleep?” A glance at the clock verified that it was after three. “I have a better idea.” Wiping away the tears from her mirth, Anissa sat up crosslegged on the bed. What was the use of being a Djinni if one could not take advantage of a little magic now and then? She closed her eyes and murmured a short spell. “What was that?” Goddess, he was so delicious sprawled beside her on the bed. “A bubble.” She pounced, landing atop him with all that warm masculine flesh stretched beneath her. “Bubble?” His arms wrapped around her rubbed up and down her spine creating a series of ripples that went straight to her core. “A sound bubble. Until I release the spell—or fall asleep—no sound will enter or exit this room.” “Lady, I love the way you think.” He rolled her beneath him, spearing his cock into her already drenched and waiting pussy. This time, Anissa didn’t have to worry about noise so she cried out her pleasure as he stroked his thick rod in and out. She wrapped her legs up around his waist and dug her heels into his back.

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The position took him deep but he must have wanted more. David took her legs from around his waist and lifted them up over his shoulders, rising up on his knees. His hands clasped hers, fingers interlaced and clamped them down to the bed on either side of her head. Now with every forceful thrust, he hit the mouth of her womb and slapped his balls against her ass. “Yes, David.” She loved his name, loved to hear herself call it during rapture. “Take me as hard and fast as you can.” “Fuck, yes. All I have to do is think about that slick, tight pussy of yours and I can barely walk.” “And all I have to do is think of you and your big hard cock and my jeans become soaked.” Her hips jerked upward to meet his cock and she locked her ankles behind his neck. She loved the new words he had taught her and knew he liked to hear them during lovemaking as well. “When you are inside me, everything else in the world fades away. There is nothing and no one else. Only you and me and the wonderful feeling of your cock fucking me, filling me up.” “Oh goddess, I love you so much!” He roared and rammed himself deeper than he had ever gone before, then she felt the hot pulse of his seed filling her. The sensation was so deeply erotic that her own pleasure spiked, exploding through her like a whole barrel full of Chinese fireworks. She screamed his name and tightened every muscle. Her pussy clenched, holding his still hard and still spurting penis tight to her womb. She sobbed her release into his shoulder as he lowered her legs and pressed her body into the mattress with the warm heat of his own.

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Chapter Fifteen Dave woke to a knock on his bedroom door, which was confusing since Anissa was still a warm bundle in his arms. Oh shit. The parents. “Yes?” “There are people here to see you.” “Shit.” He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Thanks, Miriam. Could you tell them I’ll be right down?” “Who is it?” Anissa yawned and stretched. “Don’t know.” He disentangled himself from her and the covers, leaned over to kiss her good morning before he left the bed. “Go back to sleep if you want. I’ll deal with it.” “I am okay,” she told him with the smug little smile of a satisfied woman, making Dave feel about ten feet tall. She sat up, the comforter still draped around her covering the good parts. “I will take a shower and be down shortly.” “Cool.” He kissed her again. Then he forced himself to step away from the bed. He ducked into the bathroom to wash and brush his teeth, then returned to the bedroom to find clothing. The top t-shirt in the drawer was red and said I scare my own family. Dave shrugged it on, along with a pair of boxers, then pulled on black cargos and his combat boots. The shoulder holster went on over the t-shirt, followed by a checkered wool shirt to cover the holster. Total time—less than five minutes. Sometimes it was good to be a guy. Downstairs, he found Eric and Ben lounging on his couch drinking coffee. “Yo.” Eric greeted Dave with a worried frown. “I hear everything worked out last night. Anissa okay?” “Yeah.” Dave started to walk past his friends to the kitchen for coffee but Miriam appeared in the archway holding out a steaming mug. He accepted it gratefully. “She’ll be down in a few. Miriam, have you met Eric Gordon?” “Of course. Professor Montoya introduced us.” He turned back to his friends. “So what brings you two here so early? I thought we were meeting for lunch.” “Someone tried to break into my house last night.” Eric’s voice was grim. “Either the ward you cast held or the neighbors’ German shepherd scared him away, but there were chisel marks on the back door this morning.” “Shit.” “We left Wes and Wendy with Lori for now but I think I’m going to take Lori and Phillip down to her mom’s for a few days. I hate to take off on you but she’ll kill me if I

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don’t go with her.” And Eric didn’t want to be separated from his wife and son either. Dave could understand that. “No. Don’t worry about me. Just go.” Eric’s first priority had to be protecting his family. “And as soon as you get there do the warding spell on that house, just to be on the safe side.” David had copied it to him in an email, so he knew Eric had the information. “I will.” He drained his coffee and stood. “Be careful, dude. And stay in touch. I’ll be back for classes Monday.” “I hope to hell we have this taken care of by then.” “Don’t we all?” Ben echoed the sentiment. The two walked Eric to the door. As they watched him leave, Ben continued. “It strikes me that what we need is some sort of plan to force him out in the open.” ‘‘That would be nice.” “Well,” Ben speculated. “What have we got that he won’t be able to resist?” The two men looked at each other and grinned. “The box.” “They are up to something.” Anissa looked up at her mother over her breakfast plate. It still surprised her that her spoiled, pampered mother had learned to cook like a human. Leon and Ben were in the office with David, undoubtedly plotting something. That was not, however the thought that was uppermost in her mind. “Was it difficult for you to adjust to the mortal realm, Mother?” “I do not know that I truly have. Because we did not know how long it would take, we have been careful to spend most of our time in the Otherworld, to prevent us from growing old before we could find you.” “There are places, then that welcome us?” “The Otherworld has evolved and changed along with this one. There are agreements between many of the peoples that populate it. Your father and I have a home in the Otherworld equivalent of Florida. We would have you return there with us, with your husband if you truly wish to remain with him. “His life and his profession are here. I do not think there is much computer work in the Otherworld, even now.” “No, that is true. But there, he would be as a Djinni, immune to aging and death. If you choose to remain here, you will both grow old and eventually die.” “True.” Anissa sipped the coffee her mother had made this morning. “But after eight hundred years as a slave, I am not sure that the length of life is as important as the quality of that life.” Miriam nodded her head. “You have grown very wise.” She reached across the table and squeezed Anissa’s hand. “Has it occurred to you, though, that by remaining here, you are placing your young man at risk?” 152

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“Of course it has.” She pushed the food about on her plate. Her mother had made a wonderful breakfast but now the sweet fruit and savory omelet tasted like ashes. “He is clearly a good man, if a bit uncouth,” Miriam continued. Before Anissa could protest the “uncouth” portion of that statement, Miriam went on. “I would not have given him the box had I not believed that. His rescue of the old lady in the store was really quite dashing.” David had told her the story, though she was sure he had downplayed any heroism on his own part. She listened while her mother recounted the event from her own point of view. “David is an amazing man,” Anissa told her mother, giving up on the food entirely and resting her elbows on the table, her chin on her hands. “He does not even believe it himself but he is truly the sort of champion about whom tales would have been sung had he lived in an earlier age. And he has known such loneliness in his life. I do not wish to leave him, Mother. Though I worry that I am just a passing fancy to him. That he cares for me now only because he feels I need him and when the danger is gone, he will lose interest.” “I have no standing with which to offer advice on love.” Miriam sipped her own coffee daintily. She wore gray wool trousers, a pink twinset and a strand of fat, gleaming pearls, making Anissa feel underdressed in her jeans and fuzzy blue sweater. Anissa still admired her mother’s grace and elegance, still felt as though she would never measure up. “I believed my own father for hundreds of years when he told me that my lover had fled rather than face fatherhood and marriage. All the while my father had kept him imprisoned in a jewel.” She sighed deeply. “And when that same father took my daughter and gave her away, I barely protested, let alone fought. It took me many, many years to grow up. You have no idea how much I regret that, my daughter. This fine strong woman you have become is none of my doing and yet I could not be more proud. Or sorrier for not preventing your enslavement at the outset.” There had been times during her captivity when she had blamed her mother bitterly, times when she would have sold her very soul to hear those words. Now they seemed anticlimactic and unnecessary. This time it was she who reached over to pat her mother’s hand. “Let us not dwell on the past, Mother. We are together again and both of us have found men who make us happy. Let us move forward from there.” “Again you prove to be wiser than your mother.” Miriam gave her a fond smile. “But please consider my words. If you leave here, Murdoch has no reason to hurt David or his friends. And Murdoch will find it much more difficult to get to you in the Otherworld.” “I will consider it.” As though she had a choice. Now that she actually possessed the wherewithal to leave, the arguments for and against would ricochet through her mind continually.

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“Yes, we have a bite!” The trio of war whoops echoing out of the office had both women rolling their eyes and grinning. “Perhaps we should go see what they have done?” Miriam stood, coffee cup in hand. “I think eBay is a wonderful thing.” David exulted as the women stood poised in the office door. He was seated at his computer, while her father and Ben had brought in chairs from the kitchen. His fingers flew across the keys. “David has posted the Djinn box on an online auction site,” Leon explained. He pulled Anissa’s mother down onto his lap. “As bait to attract Murdoch’s attention.” “Now all we have to do is trace the bidders and voilà, we have a location.” “You can do that?” Miriam asked. “I have used those auctions for my store but did not know the bidders could be traced.” Ben snickered. “Mostly they can’t. But what Dave can do with a computer is a kind of magic all his own.” He glanced over David’s shoulder at the screen. “Got him?” Dave shook his head. “Doubt it. This one’s in Dallas. And a sixty-four-year-old romance writer, from her profile. I doubt that’s our guy.” “Possibly not,” Leon agreed. “Are there other bidders yet?” “Not yet.” David pushed back from his computer. “It may not work at all if our guy doesn’t catch wind of it. It’s a decent plan but it can’t be our only one.” A vehicle horn sounded outside the house and Dave moved to the front window to look, hoping it wasn’t the cops again. Apparently everyone else had the same idea, because they all clustered around looking worried. He dropped the blind with a chuckle and moved to the door. “It’s just the mail lady. Looks like a package that was too big for the mailbox.” He answered the door and accepted the package with a smile and a “Happy New Year” to the letter carrier. “Cool, something from my sister.” He dropped onto a chair and pulled out his pocket knife to slice open the tape, pausing to look up and smile when Anissa perched on the arm of the recliner. “It appears to be a small painting,” Anissa said as Dave unwound the bubble wrap from a flat square object. “Your sister is an artist, is she not?” “Yeah. That’s one of hers.” He gestured at the spot over the fireplace where he’d hung the portrait of Drake. Of course since he’d taken it down yesterday to paint, it wasn’t there. Anissa smiled. “The dragon picture. It is beautiful,” she said to her parents. “You must see it before you leave.” He looked down at the painting in his hand and chuckled. “I think they’ll like this one even better.” He held up the small watercolor of Anissa. The delicate tints were boldly outlined with black ink in Jenna’s signature style. Every stroke captured Anissa’s 154

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beauty and whimsical personality perfectly and the lavender eyes practically sparked on the parchment background. What pleased Dave the most was that in the portrait, Anissa’s left hand sported a wedding band and an amethyst engagement ring. He really hoped that was prophetic. Miriam and Leon clustered around to admire the painting, peppering Dave with questions about his sister and wondering when she and Anissa had met. “His sister is a seer,” Anissa explained. It sounded so casual, Dave had to smile. But he guessed to a Djinni a psychic was sort of ordinary. “As well as a talented artist,” Miriam added, then cast a face at Dave. “I do not suppose you would be willing to part with this? I would give much to have such a portrait of my daughter.” “Sorry.” No way in hell. “But you’re welcome to use the digital camera and print out as many shots as you want on the color laser.” “Thank you.” Ben volunteered to act as the photographer, the bum. They all seemed pleased with that idea and immediately began a frenzy of photography that even Dave didn’t entirely escape from. Not that he really minded the idea of having a few shots of him and Anissa together. Something else to look at on the long lonely nights after she was gone. He hadn’t given up hope that she’d stay but neither had he missed the fact that when he’d told her he loved her last night, she hadn’t replied in kind. The next arrivals were Wesley and Wendy, here ostensibly to pick up Ben and to relay the news that the Gordons had left with no further incidents. Of course they ended up staying for lunch and observing the ongoing efforts to monitor the online auction. It was late afternoon when they finally left. Not ten minutes later there was another knock on the front door. “Who is it this time?” There’d been enough coming and going this afternoon that he’d let his guard down. Instead of checking, he just pulled open the front door. Big mistake. The man who stood there looked more like a banker than a wizard, with a deep gray suit and neat red tie, covered by a black wool topcoat. But the sheer fury blazing in his electric green eyes left very little doubt in David’s mind as to whom he was facing. The wooden staff carved with glowing runes that the man brandished was a bit of a giveaway too. “You are not welcome in this house.” David took a step back. The sword rack was under a tarp leaning on the back of the sofa but his hand automatically went to the Beretta in his shoulder holster. “Give me the box.” Dave had never heard so much concentrated menace in one sentence before. “No.” His stance widened as he reached under his wool shirt and unsnapped the holster. “You will not sell the puzzle box like some worthless piece of garbage. Give me the box and the Djinni and I may let you live.”

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Dave drew the Beretta. “Does your magic stop bullets? If not, you might want to get off my property. Now.” “As a matter of fact, it does.” Murdoch’s grin was the most evil expression Dave had ever seen. It literally sent chills down his spine but he didn’t budge. Murdoch waved the staff and Dave saw what looked like an oil slick form in the air around the wizard. “Now let us see if your firearm can protect you from this.” He raised the staff again and a bolt of brilliant crimson light shot from the red glass orb at the tip. When it hit David’s doorway, however, it glanced off, like a hockey puck hitting the glass. The streak of light careened off the open doorway and bounced, striking a small blue spruce in the front yard. The tree immediately burst into flames. For a minute, Dave thought Murdoch was going to ignite as well. The wizard’s face turned as red as the orb on his staff. “The Djinni’s talents must have increased over the years to produce such effective wards.” His eyes narrowed and he glared at Dave. “But it will do you little good in the end. I will be watching. And you cannot remain in the house forever.” With that, he stormed off and vanished. Interestingly, he didn’t seem to have come by car. The only thing in the drive was Dave’s Jeep. Hmmm. Anissa flung herself into Dave’s arms, sobbing softly. “He could have killed you.” “But he didn’t.” Dave set the gun on an end table, kicked the door shut with his boot and stroked her hair. “Don’t cry, honey. Please.” Leon stood at the window and muttered a spell, which doused the flames around the spruce tree. Dave looked out, over Anissa’s bowed head. The blaze had burned with unnatural speed, though and all that was left were the blackened skeletal remains of the poor tree. Still, Dave was damn glad it had been the tree and not him. “Who provided your wards?” Leon lifted one brown eyebrow. “That was— astounding.” “A friend sent me the spell,” Dave admitted. “I’ve gotta admit, I was pretty surprised myself when it held. I’m not much of a caster.” “Perhaps more than you think.” He picked up the portrait of Anissa, which had been scanned and printed for her parents to take. “Your sister may not be the only member of your family with talent.” Dave shrugged. Like he had a freaking clue. Anissa sniffled into his chest, then detached herself. She kissed his cheek then disappeared into the bathroom. “Now that Murdoch is aware of the warding spell, he will be forced to come up with another plan. And he speaks the truth. You cannot remain in your home all the time.” Leon spoke with slow deliberation. “I know.” Yeah, he had that all figured out. He just didn’t know what he was going to do about it. He turned to his father-in-law. “You got any other ideas about stopping that fireball trick?” “Stay the hell out of its way.” “Yeah. I’d sort of figured that part out for myself.”

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“We should leave here. His powers are tied to this plane. He will have a far more difficult time finding us in the Otherworld.” Miriam walked up to them and placed her hand on Leon’s arm.” “But isn’t that where he took on a powerful Djinni and won?” Dave hated to remind the woman that Murdoch had killed her father but he wasn’t willing to pussyfoot around when it came to Anissa’s safety. Her lips drew into a thin line, reminding him of her old-lady disguise. “That is true. But he knew where to find my father, knew when to find him at his weakest.” “Why can’t you simply use your final wish to have Leon stop him?” “The power of the wishes cannot be used to kill. That is one of the few restrictions.” She looked down and examined her fingernails. “Also—it is selfish but then Leon would be lost to me and I do not wish for that.” Okay, he could understand that. “Could you wish that Murdoch would take Leon’s place in the bracelet? That would take care of two problems at once.” “That is a very clever idea.” Miriam gave him an approving smile. “But one that will, unfortunately, not work.” Leon shook his head. “The vulnerability to being bound into an object is a characteristic of the Djinn, not just of the object. A weakness in our race, if you will.” “Damn.” So as long as Murdoch was around and could find a Djinn object, Anissa would remain at risk. He really hoped there was a way for him to kill the bastard without winding up in prison. Though if it came down to a choice between that and Anissa’s safety, he knew which road he’d take and never look back. He locked the front door and reholstered the Beretta. “Then the smart thing to do is for you three to take off. If he’s busy here, you should have plenty of time to get to the Otherworld, set up whatever defenses you need. Leave me some way to contact you in case of emergency.” “I agree.” He whirled at the sound of Anissa’s voice, firm now, with no trace of tears remaining. “Except I believe you should come with us.” “No.” He would stay here and somehow deal with the threat. He crossed to her rested both hands on her shoulders and kissed her on the nose. “I’ll be fine.” “But—” She broke off, biting her lip. He brushed it with his thumb, until she let it go. “Classes start in just a few days. My responsibilities are here.” “But—” She tried again and the look of hurt in her lavender eyes about broke him in two. “Go with your parents. You knew this was only a stopover until we’d dealt with Murdoch. If you stay here, you age, you die and I don’t really want that on my conscience. It’s been fun, doll, but it’s time for you to go.”

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She sniffled a bit but she squared her jaw and nodded. “Very well, then. But we take the box with us. It will be far safer there.” She concentrated for a minute and the puzzle box appeared in her hand. Dave looked over at Leon, who nodded. He reached out and took the box from his daughter. The lavender eyes, so like his daughter’s spoke volumes, let Dave know the older man had figured out what Dave was doing and he wasn’t going to rat him out. “So do you guys need to pack or anything?” Lazlo shook his head. “Once we reach our home we can blink—teleport our belongings.” Oh yeah, he’d forgotten that. “You sure? Your daughter has a lot of clothes upstairs.” “You wish me to take those?” Anissa’s voice was tiny. “Well it’s not like I’m gonna wear them.” He remembered something, dashed to the coat hook by the kitchen door and wrestled something out of his pocket. “Meant to give you these last night but with everything going on, I sort of forgot.” She opened the velvet jeweler’s box with the amethyst earrings and her eyes filled up with tears. “You were not supposed to buy these.” He forced a grin. “Yeah, well I never was very good at following directions.” He turned to her dad. “You have to fly commercial, or is there some kind of Djinni airline?” “Once we cross the veil to the Otherworld, there are spells for transportation,” Lazlo informed him. “There are?” Even Anissa seemed surprised by that one. “I did not know that.” “You were a child when you left, my daughter.” Miriam stroked her daughter’s hair. “But no, the spells were not well known then, or I would have left my father’s harem long before your birth.” “So there you go. You take care, now. All of you. And let me know how to get in touch if things change.” “The answering machine from the store,” Miriam answered. “We monitor that from our home in the otherworld.” “Good.” Please let them leave before he started bawling. “Keep an eye on each other, all right?” “We shall. And you be careful too, son.” Leon shook Dave’s hand. He’d used the word intentionally and Dave’s eyes started itching even more. “We shall be in touch.” “Goodbye.” Miriam kissed his cheek. “Thank you so much for giving us back our daughter.” Then the two of them faded from view. “Goodbye.” He knew his voice was anything but steady. “Goodbye, David. Remember me.”

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“Like I could ever forget my very own Djinni.” And then because he couldn’t have spoken another word he kissed her. He tried to keep it soft and simple but by the time he pulled away, they were both breathing hard. And Anissa wasn’t the only one with a tear on her cheek. Then with a sweet, sad smile, she faded from view. And all the color seemed to drain out of David’s world.

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Chapter Sixteen Anissa restlessly paced the confines of the magnificent room she’d been given in her parents’ villa. The villa was beautiful, with wide windows to bring in the sunshine and tropical breezes, comfortable furnishings rich with silk and velvet upholstery, a courtyard filled with lush tropical flowers, palm trees and fountains—even a swimming pool. Dinner had been a veritable feast, with course after course, filled with all the foods Anissa had loved as a child. She was touched beyond belief that her mother had remembered them. She wanted pizza. She had only been here for part of a day and already she wanted to go home. Except she did not have a home. She had only deluded herself for a short time into believing she was making one in Kilkenny, Michigan. With David. Barefoot, she stepped through the sheer silken curtain onto her balcony overlooking the pool and courtyard. It was stunning. But all she could think about was how much fun it would be to bring David here for a visit and make love to him in the bubbling hot spa. She liked it here, welcomed the opportunity to visit with her parents but had no desire to be a permanent resident. Her heart, her home was with David in his frozen northern land. Without her, who would keep him warm at night? He got so cold, probably from having never been warm as a child. He would have to go back to sleeping in sweats and his heavy socks, like he had the night she had arrived. When he had slept with her, he had slept naked. And who would help him finish restoring the house? Any fool could see that the man longed to build a warm, cozy home but had no idea how. Now who would keep him from choosing horrid black plastic furniture? Foolish man. Could he not see that he needed her? Nearly as much as she needed him. Why had he sent her away? Last night he had said—well shouted really—that he loved her. Today he had said it was over and sent her away. How could he be so cruel? Did he not know she loved him, that he held her heart in his big, rough hands? She smacked her forehead with her palm and used a phrase from TV. “Well, duh.” Of course he did not. She had never told him. How could she have been so stupid? He had sent her away because he loved her and he thought she did not love him. His pride would never allow him to play the unrequited lover. He had used her safety as an excuse.

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Safety. She slammed her hand into the ornate brass rail of the balcony. Stupid, stupid, stupid! He hadn’t stayed in Michigan because he thought Murdoch would follow them here, leaving David safe. He had sent her and her parents to safety, believing that Murdoch would come after him. Murdoch would never forgive David for wishing her free, revenge would be uppermost in the wizard’s mind. David had stayed in Michigan to keep Murdoch focused on him. “Mother.” She stormed through the bedroom and into the corridor shouting. “Father. Where is everyone?” “Your father is away from home.” Miriam appeared through a pointed archway. As soon as she had returned home she had changed into the halter top and loose pants of the harem, while Anissa still wore her sweater and jeans. Further proof that she did not belong in this world. Not any longer. “Where has he gone?” She needed him to take her back. They had not yet taught her the transportation spell. “He—umm—had some—er—business to attend to.” Why was her normally poised and polished mother hemming and hawing like a giggling girl? Anissa tapped her painted toes on the floor. “Mother? What is going on?” Miriam tilted her head. “You are beginning to sound like an American, my dear.” “Mother—” The toe tapping speeded up as her patience decreased. She drew herself up to her full five feet three inches and glared at her mother, arms crossed over her chest. Miriam deflated. “I forget sometimes that you are no longer my little girl with your hands all sticky from eating licorice. You are a woman grown.” “I am, Mother. I am sorry if that disturbs you but I am far from the child you remember. And that is not necessarily bad thing. Certainly, some of the years I spent were—difficult. But most were simply tedious. And now I am an adult and thanks to David I am free.” At least in some ways. She looked down at the wedding ring he had given her. Their marriage may have started as a sham but to her it was a very real commitment. Even if he did not take her back, the only way that ring was coming off her hand was if someone removed it from her corpse. “And you love him.” Was it that obvious? Not that it mattered. She did not care if everyone in both worlds shouted it to the trees. “Of course I do.” “He explained to your father about the marriage—that it was a ruse to keep you out of trouble with the American government.” “That is how it began,” Anissa admitted. “But that is not how I intend it to end.” “I see. You are so much stronger than I have ever been.” Miriam paused, looked over the gallery rail to the foyer below. “Your father believes that David sent us away to draw the danger to himself.” “Of course he did.”

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Miriam nodded. “I believe you are correct. Leon felt your young man might require some—as they call it on television—backup. He returned to Michigan.” “Thank the gods and goddesses.” Anissa gripped the rail as relief momentarily weakened her knees. Leon still had the power of his imprisonment, as well as his own brilliant mind. He would help keep David safe. But she was not going to sit here like some helpless harem flower. “Do you know the transportation spell?” Miriam sighed but when Anissa began tapping her foot again, she dropped her shoulders and nodded. Anissa blinked on her pink boots and puffy coat. “Take me home, Mother.” “Of course.” Miriam also blinked on winter clothing—wool pants, sturdy boots and a black leather coat. She held out her hand to Anissa. Anissa took her mother’s hand and squeezed it, then found herself pulled into a quick, tight embrace. “My little girl is a married woman.” Miriam smiled and sniffed, just before she whispered the words of the spell and the scenery around them changed. “You do not have to come with me,” Anissa reminded her mother as they stood in the trees of Otherworld Michigan. Miriam managed a brittle smile. “Yes, well, I’ve learned a few things from my wise daughter. Do not forget that my man is there too.” Anissa smiled at her mother. Hand in hand, they stepped through the veil into David’s kitchen.

***** An hour after Anissa left, Dave thought he was losing his mind. After two he was sure of it. He considered emptying the fridge and getting thoroughly drunk but there was still the issue of Murdoch to deal with. If he didn’t take the bastard out, he’d eventually wind up going after Anissa. And that was simply not an acceptable option. So no getting plastered until the big fight was over. And that could take days. He tried to email Drake but apparently the big guy wasn’t online. There was a note from Eric saying that they’d arrived safely at his in-laws. That was one weight off David’s mind. There was also a note from Ben, one that gave Dave something to think about. Ben’s doctoral research had been in the area of folklore. He’d done a lot of research on magic and spells. One thing, he reminded David, that often cropped up in legend and myth was that often the most effective magic wasn’t the use of pure power but the ability to turn that power. Then he attached a couple of sample reflection spells. Reflection. Dave wasn’t much of a caster but he could see the beauty of it. It was like aikido for magical energy. You don’t need to be stronger than your opponent. You just need to be

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able to use his own strength against him. Dave pored over the material, cataloging the information, committing it to memory. Hot damn, this just might work. An hour later, he was done waiting. He wanted Anissa, or at least the chance to talk to her again, to ask her if she’d consider staying in a ramshackle farmhouse with an equally ramshackle professor. Moreover, he needed to know she was safe. He placed a call to Jenna, wanting to say goodbye in case he didn’t survive but her cell phone went straight to voice mail, as did Liv’s. So he sent an email instead, telling Jenna he loved her. And he left a message on the Lazlos’ answering machine outlining the plan. Then he took his favorite broadsword off the rack and polished it to a reflective shine. Centering himself, he lit a candle and performed a short ritual blessing, consecrating the sword and imbuing it with protective wards. Finally, he drew on his combat boots, his leather bomber jacket and lifted the portrait of Anissa in the hand that wasn’t holding the sword. “Love you,” he told the picture. Since no one was looking, he raised the frame to his lips and kissed the glass above her forehead. “And that’s for luck.” Then he set the portrait down and stepped out his back door into the driveway. “Come and get me, Murdoch of the Moorlands. I’m challenging your cowardly ass to a fight.” “What do you think you are doing?” Dave spun to see that his father-in-law had stepped out the kitchen door behind him. “Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere else? Protecting the women?” “Oddly, they seemed to think you were the one in need of protection. And based on this utter foolishness, I am inclined to agree.” “I’ve got a plan,” David hissed. He turned and pressed his Beretta into Leon’s hand. “Now shut up and stay out of the way. If you want to help, watch my back.” “Very well.” Leon remained on the top step, leaning with what Dave knew was feigned casualness against the screen door. Dave stood in the middle of the snow-covered back lawn and yelled at the sky again. “Oh Murrrrrdochhhhhhh. Come out and play, you slimy bastard.” “Must you really be so crass?” With a flash, Murdoch appeared about ten yards in front of David. He wore the wool topcoat again, but open over a black pinstriped suit, with a blood-red tie. The red orb on top of his staff glowed with an unholy light. Leon automatically descended the three concrete steps but he stopped at the bottom when David held up a hand. “I’m not in my house this time, fucker. Give me your best shot.” At the very least, Dave hoped that if Murdoch focused everything on him and it punched through, that would leave him a moment of weakness which Leon could use to shoot.

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“This is actually rather anticlimactic.” Murdoch’s long face registered resigned derision. “I had expected to have to pry you out of your fortress.” “Yeah, well I never did like doing what was expected of me.” Dave lifted the sword into a ready position. “And patience is not my strong suit. Let’s just get this business the hell over with.” “Then give me the box.” “Can’t. I don’t have it anymore.” Fury mottled the wizard’s complexion. “What have you done, you stupid worm?” He raised the staff. “I sold it on eBay,” Dave sang, intentionally off-key. The orb started glowing brighter and David prepared the words, mentally willing Leon not to interfere. His eyes were so focused on the wizard he didn’t see the back door open again, didn’t see the two women tumble out onto the steps until he heard Anissa crying out his name. “Leon.” “Got them.” Murdoch sent a small burst of flame from the tip of the staff but Dave deflected it with the sword, sent it off into a snow bank where it popped and fizzled. “Gonna have to do better than that, asshole.” “Leon.” He heard Miriam’s voice laced with tears as he batted away another, bigger blast. This one skittered across the field of snow before sputtering out. “My slave. It is my wish that our son-in-law David be given the power and resources to permanently defeat Murdoch of the Moorlands.” “As you wish.” Leon’s voice was broken but warm. “Goodbye, daughter. Goodbye, my love.” Dave felt a warm surge of energy infuse his body and mind. This time he reflected a blast straight at the wizard, singeing a small hole in the man’s coat. “Another Djinni? How many have you collected?” Murdoch inhaled deeply, his body seeming to swell and grow as he gathered his forces, focused his energy. “Sweetheart, pick up the gun and shoot him right after he blasts, okay?” Dave didn’t turn. He hoped Anissa heard him and followed his instructions. He muttered the words of the spell, pushing with everything he had. He drew from deep inside himself, all his hopes and fears and dreams. Jenna’s strength, Eric’s friendship and a huge well of love for Anissa. He also felt the Celtic knot ring on his finger warm and sent a mental thanks to Drake for whatever extra oomph was coming from the ring. When the blast came, it was with a great burst of silence, rather than a roar of sound. Sickly crimson light pulsed around the wizard then coalesced into a fiery freight train that launched straight at David. He had no doubt it would flatten him and leave nothing behind but a melted spot on the snow. Except that then Murdoch could hurt

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Anissa and the others. So the sword came up, David shouted the words and for just a heartbeat, the freight train paused in a moment of suspended animation. David mentally said goodbye. Then faster than he could blink, the flaming phantasm reversed course and slammed back into Murdoch. Dave saw the look of incredulous horror on the wizard’s face like a single frame of stop-action film. Another frame later, the flames outlined his tall thin form like a fiery halo. Then there was a tortured scream, a blinding flash and both flames and wizard were gone.

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Chapter Seventeen David dropped to his knees, the sword falling limply from his hands. When Anissa ran to him, his arms automatically went around her, even though he would have sworn he didn’t have the strength to even blink. “You stupid, stupid man.” Since she was peppering his face with kisses, he didn’t think she was too pissed off. Still, he took the easiest way he could think of to shut her up. He covered her lips with his. Goddess, kissing her was like coming home. He held her tightly, praying he never had to let her go again. When they were both gasping for breath, he dragged his lips from hers and buried his face in her neck, loving the feel of her hair caressing his skin. “If you ever try something that foolish again, I swear I will kill you myself!” Anissa did not even try to hide the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. She just clung to David for all she was worth. “Do you think he is really gone this time?” David nodded against her throat. “Oh yeah. Trust me, the sight of his flesh burning away from his bones was pretty conclusive.” The he pulled his face away and gave her a stern look, though it was undermined by his gentle thumbs wiping the tears from her face. “And just what the hell were you doing here, anyway?” “I finally realized what your plan was,” she told him, shaking a finger. “You are a giant fraud you know. You pretend not to care, while all the while you were willing to sacrifice yourself to keep me safe.” “I told you I love you. How is that pretending not to care?” His beloved voice was thick and rough with the emotion he tried so hard to hide. “You only said it during passion. I am sorry, but I did not know if it was—real.” “Then believe this. I love you, Anissa. More than anything I’ve ever known or ever dreamed. Will you stay here with me and marry me for real?” “With all my heart. I love you, my hero.” This time the kiss was slow and tender, a sealing of their vows. They stopped after a few seconds when the sounds of the world outside penetrated their consciousnesses. Anissa’s stomach clenched when she heard her mother’s sobs. In her joy and relief over David’s survival, she had forgotten that her mother had used her third wish. Now Anissa’s father was once again entrapped.

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With a tender smile and a nod for each other, they moved as one, over to sit on either side of Miriam on the cold hard steps. Anissa enfolded her mother against her breast and David draped one comforting arm about them both. “We will find a way to get him back, Mother. I swear it.” “Actually, that may be easier than you think. Miriam, may I have the bracelet, please?” Miriam sobbed harder. “But it is all I have left of him.” “I know. I will take good care of it, I promise. Just let me see it for a moment.” Anissa hugged her mother as she realized what he planned to do. “Trust him, Mother. You will not be sorry you did.” “After all you have done for our family I can hardly do anything else.” With a delicate sniff she blinked a handkerchief into her hands and wiped her face before she slowly unclasped the bracelet and handed it to David. “Thank you, Miriam.” Anissa had never been prouder than when Miriam managed a small trace of a smile and told him, “Call me Mother.” “Gladly.” Anissa was proud of him as well. She watched him clasp the bracelet around his wrist and wait. She could see his heart sink along with hers when nothing happened. “It has to be a woman.” The strange voice came from the corner of the house and Anissa jumped at the sound, having completely failed to see or hear the three other people who had entered the yard. The speaker was an ethereally lovely redhead with a sad but sweet smile. Anissa recognized her instantly from her photograph. “Jenna!” “And I know your face but not your name.” Jenna Garvaglia smiled as she moved to Anissa and took her hand. A taller, sturdier woman with short blonde hair moved by her side, her hand protectively on Jenna’s arm. David stood and hugged his sister, then the woman beside her. “Jenna. Liv. What are you two doing here?” He didn’t give them time to answer as he hastened to introduce Anissa and Miriam. Anissa had to blink back another tear when Jenna enfolded her in a warm hug. “I’m so glad to finally have a sister.” Then David looked up at the man who still stood several yards away. He was tall and broad with golden brown hair and intensely bronze eyes. “Jen, who’s your friend?” “Oh. We met him at the airport trying to rent a car without a driver’s license. He said he was coming to Kilkenny, so we offered him a ride. We were halfway here before he told us he was a friend of yours coming to visit.” “Do I know you?”

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The man gave a wide grin that was uncannily familiar. “You do.” David blinked, then Anissa watched his jaw go slack and his eyes grow wide. “Drake?” Drake? Was that not the name of his friend the… Dragon. The bronze-haired man stepped away from the house. Anissa stood in shock as the air around him shimmered and in his place stood an enormous bronze—dragon. “Hey, bud. Didn’t know you could do that.” The dragon transformed back into the man—clothing and all. “Neither did I. This trip of mine has been most—informative.” He walked back to the others and bowed to Anissa and Miriam. “Ladies. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” “Anissa Garvaglia.” Anissa held out her hand, announcing her name with pride. It was the one she intended to use for the rest of her life. “And my mother, Miriam Lazlo.” “The bracelet,” David’s sister interrupted. “Dave, give your wife the bracelet. It only works on a woman.” David shrugged. “Makes as much sense as anything else has today.” He took off the bracelet and handed it to Anissa. “Here you go, hon. Set your father free.” He held her shaking hands to help steady them but let her do the work, fastening the clasp around her wrist. An instant later, her father appeared, kneeling in the driveway dressed in a white turban and full purple pantaloons. “How may I serve you, my mistress?” He intoned the ritual words without looking up, until he heard Miriam’s happy cry. Then he stood and opened his arms as she ran down the steps and flung herself at him. Anissa remembered every word of the wishes David had used to free her. She modified them only a trifle. “Slave, it is my wish that you be freed from your servitude. It is my wish that any and all connections between you and the bracelet be permanently severed. Finally, it is my wish that you resume your natural life as you are now, beginning in the present place and time.” There was a flash and time shuddered briefly before returning to normal. Anissa’s father unwound one arm from Miriam and held it out to Anissa. “Thank you, child.” David gave her a little push and she ran to hug her parents, while David turned to his sister. “So you never did mention why you two were here.” “We didn’t?” Anissa shared a grin with her new sister, certain she knew what the other woman was about to say. “I thought that was obvious. We came for the wedding.” Dave blinked. Oh. Of course they had. And why hadn’t he thought of it himself? Because in his heart, they were already married. And in the eyes of the law. It wouldn’t look too good for them to apply for a marriage license under the circumstances. Then he

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grinned. “Handfasting,” he told them all. “It’s already legal but we can hold a ritual here at the house.” He shared a steamy gaze with Anissa. “Soon.” “Glad to hear it, son.” At some point while Dave wasn’t looking, Leon had resumed his usual clothing. “Very, very soon.” “We still have one more thing to consider,” Anissa reminded them. She was so beautiful it took his breath away but he needed to remember she was smart too. He wouldn’t survive very long underestimating his little Djinni. “The box and the bracelet still exist. And as long as they do, they are potential weapons against any of the Djinn. We would do well to bend our minds to thinking of ways to destroy them.” She held out her hand and the puzzle box appeared in it. Drake grinned his toothy grin. “I think I can help with that.” He stepped back and changed back into his massive dragon form. “Toss me the box.” Dave took the box from Anissa and tossed to Drake. He caught it between two long talons and popped it into his mouth, chewing fiercely. Then when the box was nothing but a pile of splinters he spat it out onto the snow. “Step back.” Once everyone had, Drake breathed out a steaming puff of flame, incinerating the shredded wood instantly. Drake turned his head away and belched a puff of smoke. “Next.” Dave took the bracelet from Anissa’s wrist and tossed it to his friend. Drake chewed it and spit out the mangled wad of metal, then breathed on it until a shiny puddle of gold lay on the bare earth. Then he dragged his claws through the liquid, contaminating the molten metal with dirt and twigs and rocks, ‘til it was an unrecognizable lump. Finally he slapped his hand down on it and squashed it flat. “There. I defy anyone to make anything magical out of that again.” He rubbed it with his foot again and it crumbled into a pile of tiny brown pebbles. “Thanks pal. And thanks for the ring too. You never told me it was magic.” Drake resumed his human form and tipped his head. “It isn’t.” Nice try. Dave shook his head. “Come on. I felt the power in it. Once when I was trying to figure out how to open the puzzle box and just now while I was fighting Murdoch.” “No.” Drake shook his head again. “But it has Fae origins, so it is sensitive to magic, which is different. I’m guessing you were subconsciously using it as a focus—a way to channel your own magical power.” “I don’t have magical power,” Dave reminded him. Drake snorted a very dragonlike snort, which sounded odd coming from a human mouth. “Try again, monkey-boy. You’re as magical as they come and still qualify as human.” “Huh?” “It is true,” Leon added in a soft serious tone. “When Miriam wished you power, I did not have to give you any. All I had to do was unlock the reserves you had for some

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reason never tapped. The power you used to defeat Murdoch was yours and yours alone.” “Didn’t you ever wonder, Dave? Why I can see the future sometimes, or how we survived what we did as children? Our mother was—something, witch or sorceress, or something but she never learned to cope with it and the power eroded her mind. And I know you never met your father but I did.” Jenna shuddered. “I hid in the closet sometimes when he came to see our mom. He was a very scary man.” “A sorcerer, I am sure,” Drake agreed. “And your mother was more than a little Fae, or elf. Somehow, though, your sorcerer half locked down your Fae abilities. Until you were forced to access them yourself, your power remained dormant.” Stunned, Dave struggled to take it in. It was totally unbelievable, yet in other ways it explained so much that had never made sense in his life. Anissa wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder. “And wizard or not, part Fae or not, all that matters is that you are still my David. Still the man I love.” He hugged her tightly. She was right, of course. That was really all that mattered.

***** They called Eric and Lori, called Ben and Wes and Wendy and by the end of the evening, Dave’s living room was filled with friends and family. No, he thought, snagging the last slice of all-meat pizza out from under Eric’s hand. Just family. Even Lori had insisted on stopping by to meet Anissa’s parents on their way home. After the stories had been told, repeated and dissected thoroughly, the crowd started to thin. When the new parents headed home to bed, Jenna and Liv left with Miriam and Leon to get hotel rooms, while Drake had decided to stay with Wes and Ben. “So the wedding is tomorrow at four, right?” Wes gave Dave a hug as she moved toward the door, while Drake dropped a kiss on Anissa’s cheek. “Right.” Dave figured the honeymoon would have to wait until spring break but that gave him one night to treat Anissa to a nice hotel in Ann Arbor or something close by. And it gave her tomorrow morning to go shop for a dress or whatever else she needed. He figured Eric and Ben could help him snag a suit in a hurry. “Cool.” Wendy grinned from the doorway. “See you in the morning for the shopping marathon.” “Would all of you just go home, already?” Laughing, they all sailed out the door, finally leaving Dave and Anissa alone. “You sure this setup is what you want?” Dave turned and pulled both of Anissa’s hands into his. “If you want the whole big wedding deal, we’ll figure out a way to do it.”

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“No.” Her smile was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “All I want is to stand before our families and friends and declare our love for one another. I would have been content to do so tonight.” “Me too, but I think it will seem more official with the clothes and flowers and stuff.” “If you insist. You are such a romantic.” Dave laughed but it broke off as she pulled his t-shirt up over his head. Since he’d ditched the holster hours ago, all he had to do was lift his arms to help. “Just do not cut your hair, do you understand? Do not let them talk you into that, or I will be forced to hurt someone.” Her hands moved down to his fly and he nodded his acceptance, unwilling to do anything or say anything that might halt her busy fingers. “As long as you don’t cut yours, either.” “Good.” She pulled his pants down and dropped to her knees on the floor in front of him, dragging his boxers down as well. She wrapped one tight fist around his straining cock. “It appears that you are happy to see me.” “I’d be happier if I were seeing more of you,” he gasped as her tongue swiped up the droplet already beading on his tip. “You. Have. Way. Too. Many. Clothes. On.” He reached his hands behind him to grip the back of the sectional when she swirled her tongue around the head of his penis before sucking it into the hot recesses of her mouth. “Mmm.” Her moan of pleasure almost had him shooting down her throat. But that wasn’t what he had in mind tonight. He leaned back against the couch and let go with his hands so he could grip her under the arms. “Enough of that, love. I’m not ready to come just yet.” He pulled her to her feet and began to methodically remove every last stitch of her clothing, though he had to pause and suckle her pebbled nipples through the black lace of her push-up bra. Once he had her limp and moaning in his arms and the fabric was as wet as the soaked scrap between her legs, he peeled off those last two impediments as well. He’d turned her away to unhook her bra, now he reached around to knead her breasts, pulling her back against him. He rubbed his cock along the crack of her ass as she melted against him, moaning every time he pinched or pulled one of the swollen peaks. “I love you,” he murmured, then buried his face in the hollow between her neck and shoulder. He nipped the tendon then lightly sucked, soothing away any hurt. Based on the way she ground her ass into his groin, she liked the way it felt. He let one hand slide down off her breast, across her smooth abdomen and down to the wet curls between her thighs. She shifted her legs apart, allowing his hand to slide between her slick puffy lips. The wet sucking sounds of his hand separating her and fingering her clit were almost as arousing as her whimpers and moans. “Yes!” She squealed and bucked when he scissored two fingers around her engorged clit. When he did it again and pulled, she came, grinding against his hand while her thick juices spilled over his hand and down her leg.

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“You are so fucking beautiful,” he growled against her throat. “Lean your arms on the couch.” She obeyed, eagerly spreading her legs to make room for him between them, holding her ass high as she bent over the sofa. “One of these days, I’m going to fuck you there,” he murmured, spreading her wetness up to her puckered rosebud anus with one hand while he positioned his cock at the entrance to her still twitching pussy. “Go ahead.” Her whisper was soft and sultry. “Any time, any place, any way you like. I love you David. Nothing you could ever do would be wrong.” He pushed inside her pussy until his balls were flattened against her ass, then slid one finger into her other hole. “Maybe next time. Tonight I just want to be inside your pretty little pussy, fucking you ’til neither of us can stand.” “Yes, please.” She strained her ass up to meet him as he stroked slowly out then rammed himself back home. This time it was he who shouted, “Yes!” “Harder, David.” Happy to please, he fucked her as hard and fast as he could, the slap of his balls on her thighs a timed counterpoint to her pleased gasps and his own harsh breaths. The tempo kept increasing ‘til he felt like his entire body was going to explode instead of just his balls. They were drawn up tight and hard, pulsing with seed and his entire body had gone rigid with the building orgasm. Anissa had tensed too, her fingers were white where they gripped the upholstery and her jaw was locked, muffling her cries. When he couldn’t hold it back for another single second, he leaned down and nipped at the love mark he’d already left on her neck. “Love you.” When he bit down, Anissa’s tight pussy clamped down on his cock with a series of ripples that gripped him harder than his own fist and send little sparks of electricity along every nerve ending on his sensitized penis. Her sphincter clamped down on his finger, adding yet one more level of sensation to his already overloaded system. She screamed his name and sobbed as she shattered, lifting her ass to take him even deeper, then milking him until he shattered himself. The force of the orgasm jolted through him like wildfire, starting in his fingers and toes, then ripping all the way to his balls and cock. Jet after jet of semen pulsed out of him, filling her hot, wet cavern until he would have sworn not a drop of fluid was left in his shuddering body. He had just enough force of will and strength left to topple them over the back of the sofa and onto the cushions while stars and blackness danced across his eyelids. “I love you.” Her words were muffled by his chest and her hair. “Love you too.” He was surprised his own were mostly coherent. His head was still reeling.

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“Mmm.” She rubbed her head against him and kissed his flat brown nipple, then licked. She loved him so much, it felt like her heart was going to burst. “Don’t ever send me away again. Whatever difficulties we face, we will face them together.” “Okay.” She knew he’d have promised her anything right then but she was going to hold him to it anyway. David smiled. “There are so many things I want to share with you. Just wait ‘til you try your hand at paintball. You’re going to have a blast.” “I am sure I will.” Every day with him would be an adventure of one sort or another. Feeling his revived erection prodding against her folds, she shifted to take him inside. Whatever came, they would face it, savor it together. Forever.

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About the Author Cindy Spencer Pape has been, among other things, a banker, a teacher, and an elected politician, though she swears she got better. Her degrees are in zoology, and she currently works in environmental education, when she can fit it in around writing. She lives in southern Michigan with her husband, two teenage sons, a dog, a lizard, and various other small creatures, all of which are easier to clean up after than the three male humans. Cindy welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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