Chapter 18
Caspar wrapped his fingers around Malek’s hood and tugged him closer.
Malek felt pliable in Caspar’s hands, so completely mouldable.
Malek had been so worried and worked up about the whole djinn reveal that he’d done just about everything to keep his vulnerability at bay.
But somehow, with a slip of his hand and the coy way he used his tongue, Caspar had unravelled him.
Malek wanted all of Caspar as he worked through the chinks in Malek’s well-kept armour.
Malek was a traitor and an outcast from his own family, perpetually on the run since he was twenty-one and decided that starting a band with Abe and Tariq was the best thing to do with his time.
He was always making stupid decisions, but he’d always kept them close, because they were his decisions.
Even if they ended in blood and mayhem, they had still been his decisions to make.
That was what Caspar had said, right? After working through the shock and awe of his own reveal, he supported his parents’ choice because it had been theirs to make.
And now, as Caspar pushed their lips together and urged Malek to explore with his tongue, Malek knew that this was their decision.
Their kiss was more than groping after a long, seven-year dry spell; it was an act of freedom, an act of choice, and a revolt against their past.
We can do this. We’re not related. We’re not even the same class of djinn. And he’s not a civilian anymore, not really. He’s just like me. He’s all—
“Mine,” Caspar said as he pulled away. Malek blinked his eyes open, utterly befuddled by the distance between their bodies. Caspar stood in front of him, holding the silk package that contained his jewels. “Mine,” he repeated, his smile devious.
“No, wait! Be careful with those! You can’t just—”
But Caspar was already peeling back the fabric. He didn’t even seem woozy this time as he touched the edge of the pale pink stone. Katja’s potion had done wonders. He embraced them like they were his rightful legacy.
“You’ve already made a decision, haven’t you?”
“Not yet. I like to sleep on big choices. But I’m thinking about it. Now that my body knows what I am, I’m less confused. My head hurts less. I’m…” Caspar looked up and took a deep breath. “I’m starting to think clearer than I have in years.”
“And what part of that clear thinking made you kiss me?”
Caspar flashed his devious grin.
Malek groaned. He should have known Caspar was playing him—and it was a good thing, too.
Humour was returning to Caspar after years of serious captivity.
And there was still some kind of flare in his eyes, flirty and rebellious.
“You were just given some pretty heavy news and pumped full of potions, so I’ll let that little trick go for now. ”
“It’s how I deal with pain. I make jokes. And maybe fuck around.”
“A regular comedian.” Malek huffed. He was hard in his jeans, and the buzzing of his phone only teased his erection more. When he glanced at his screen, he saw that Twigs had written out a protection spell that he’d have to enact once they had more materials around them.
“Any news?” Caspar asked.
“Not on your big honcho.”
“I don’t want him,” Caspar said. “I may have been having fun, kissing you to get these, but I was serious about your other items. I’d like to find them.”
“Was being free together a joke, too?”
“Never.” Caspar shrugged. “But are we ever really free?”
“Ugh,” Malek said. “Don’t start sounding like J now. Not saying a yes or a no doesn’t get you off the hook, either. A lack of a decision is not a decision.”
“Sure it is. I’m in an in-between state right now, so ‘maybe’ is the best answer.”
“Maybe is not good for wishes. And we still need to protect those jewels. You haven’t quite imprinted on them yet, but they still belong to you, which means that someone else in your family can sense them.”
“And if they took them, then it’s dreamland forever?”
“Yeah,” Malek said. “Assuming they don’t kill you first.”
“Okay,” Caspar said, barely concealing a slight shudder. “So how do I do a protection spell?”
“We should head back to your apartment. It’ll be safe there and I’ll have materials by then. Shit. Your table from IKEA may have been delivered, too.”
Caspar nodded as Katja and Chaz came out of the restaurant and headed over toward them. “Do you guys need a ride?”
“Yeah, that’d be great,” Caspar said. “Because apparently sitting on the floor again for dinner two nights in a row would be too much.”
Katja laughed as she unlocked her car. Malek held open the back door for Caspar as he shuffled into the seat.
Under the protection of the car, Caspar folded the silk sheet around his jewels and slipped them into his hoodie front pocket.
Malek wanted to ask for them back, but knew he had to trust Caspar.
Just like you should trust him with the rest of your story. Your items. And Abe.
“Were you serious?” Malek asked. “You know, about before?”
“I’m always serious,” Caspar said. “It’s other people who keep thinking I’m joking.”
Malek laughed, but soon quelled it when he noticed Caspar’s demure expression. “I am.” Caspar said. “I want to find your items as much as you do, probably.”
“That’s nice, but… it won’t ever work. It’s not a specific enough request for you to make a wish on. It would only lead us to ruin.”
“Says you. You’re the guy who likes blueberry pie over cherry.”
Again, Malek laughed, but Caspar just shook his head.
“Everyone buckled up?” Katja asked. “I’m not getting a ticket because the giants refused to put on their seatbelts.”
“We’re fine,” Malek said. Katja waited until Caspar and Chaz slipped their belts in place before she pulled out of the parking lot. For a moment, Malek swore he saw a black figure watching them from the diner window, but it was only a shadow.
Caspar practically ran to his door at the end of the hallway, while Malek lagged behind. “Ugh. Why are you taking so long? Can’t you just manifest, like magic?”
“I told you again and again, I’m not strong enough to do that.”
“But you could be, right?” Caspar asked, eyes alight like a kid’s. “So what is your strongest item? Could it make you poof and reappear, like the movies?”
Malek didn’t answer, only jogging to catch up to Caspar outside his apartment door.
When he arrived, Caspar dangled the keycard close to the lock without actually letting them inside.
“Come on. You can at least tell me what your items are. If we can’t find them, it doesn’t matter, right? You won’t lose anything.”
“Except my dignity?”
“Oh, please. Be realistic.”
“A crown.”
“A what? Really?” Caspar visibly struggled to hold back his guffaws. “A crown is your most powerful item? Oh, you are so ostentatious.”
“What? My name means king! I am a king—so I have a crown.”
“Good Lord. Maybe it’s a good thing that Jocasta only found the ring. I can’t imagine walking around with a crown on every time I want to contact you.”
“Just open the door. Please. Or I’m going to nail you to the wall.”
“Oh yeah?” Caspar turned around so his back was to the door. He folded his arms behind his back and gazed openly at Malek. The way he craned his neck exposed his golden throat. Malek’s heart pounded, and so did his cock.
“How are you going to nail me against a wall? With or without protection?”
“Oh, come on, Caspar. Please. This is obviously a trick.”
“Why don’t you find out?”
Malek’s rage turned to desire inside of him.
He slid a leg between Caspar’s thighs and pried them open.
Caspar grew hard against his touch. That’s not a trick.
Not at all. Malek’s mind shouted at him that Caspar had fooled him once before, but he still lowered his head.
He kissed up and down Caspar’s throat, feeling his pulse quicken as he did.
Then Caspar jerked away.
“Come on,” Malek groaned. “You’re giving the blue djinn family name a completely different meaning right now. Please stop playing.”
“I’m not—I really want this—but do you hear that?” Caspar turned toward his door, placing the shell of his ear against the white surface. “There’s like… a thumping?”
When Caspar went to touch the doorknob, the door flew open—not locked at all. Malek’s erection disappeared as his senses focused on the shadowy figure in the middle of the room. He hurried forward in front of Caspar and held out a hand.
“Stay behind me. Stay and make sure your—”
“I know.” Caspar slipped his hands into his hoodie, holding his jewels. “I’m fine. I’m back-up.”
Malek had no gun or any kind of weapon on him.
But while he was bound to Caspar, nothing could really hurt either one of them without magic stepping in.
The thumping sound grew louder. The shadowy figure had its back to them.
The thumping wasn’t thumping, Malek soon realized, but strumming. Like on a guitar.
The shadowy figure sat on an IKEA box, a guitar in his hand, playing random chords. Caspar cried out, anger evident from his twisted brows and curse words, causing the figure to look directly at them both. Malek’s heart sank.
“You!” Malek shouted. “How the hell did you find us?”