Chapter 12
Anything You Wish
Iris
You’ve really done it this time, Iris Beckett.
I press my forehead against the cool glass of Rakan’s window. Forty floors below, there’s a city I’m not allowed to walk through anymore. The glass doesn’t help. Not much could.
I should have never slept with Rakan for a second time. I know that like I know my own name. But there’s just something about Rakan that’s more dangerous to me than any monster in any alley.
Even now, when I’m in lethal danger, what really bothers me is that he’s gone.
A million different questions rush through my mind. Who could have called him? What solution did he find? What will we be, by the time this is over?
It’s terrible that our relationship even matters to me so much, but it does. Damn him.
The shirt I’m wearing belongs to him. The pants are mine, but I stole the shirt from his wardrobe. It’s as if his absence has turned me into some kind of ridiculous criminal. I hate myself for it, for finding comfort in the scent that’s now so familiar.
Was it really just a few weeks ago that I was throwing him out of The Daily Grind, asking him to discard his magical lotuses? It feels like a lifetime ago.
I need to talk to him. We need to find a real answer to this absurd situation we’re in.
Even if there’s a murderer after me, I can’t stay trapped here forever.
And as satisfying as it is to lash out at him, that’s not a solution either.
We’ll just end up having sex again, because neither of us can help ourselves.
With a sigh, I slide down from the window seat and pad barefoot to the kitchen.
The fridge is full of things I haven’t touched.
During his absence, Rakan has quietly made sure I have everything I need.
But nothing really holds my interest. “He’ll come back eventually, Iris,” I murmur under my breath.
“And you need to decide what to tell him. To stand up for yourself, properly.”
I pour myself a glass of water and take a sip. Here in Rakan’s penthouse, even simple water tastes expensive. I miss my small apartment so desperately. But I miss Rakan more.
The sound of a cleared throat startles me out of my thoughts. I jerk and turn toward the door.
There’s a man standing there, dressed in what looks like a staff uniform.
He’s holding a massive basket, full of fruit.
I’d call them mangoes, maybe, but Rakan would likely never buy something as plebeian as that.
Knowing him, it’s something stranger, no doubt imported from one of his monster friends.
“Is everything all right, Miss?” the man asks me. His voice is warm and friendly, and his presence immediately puts me at ease.
“Yes, thank you. I just couldn’t sleep.”
“Ah, that can happen,” he replies with a tiny nod. “The city can be… distracting.”
He sets the basket on the counter. “The night kitchen sent these up. Maybe a late snack will help. My name is Casey, by the way.”
“It’s a pleasure,” I reply automatically. “I’m Iris. Thank you for the fruit. I don’t think I can eat right now, but maybe tomorrow. Bottom shelf of the fridge is mostly empty, if you need a spot to put them away.”
Casey nods and opens the fridge. Slowly and carefully, he slides every not-mango into the fruit box. There’s something so… smooth about the action. Maybe Rakan trains all of his staff to be like this, as ridiculously graceful as he is.
Casey finishes his task and shuts the fridge door. Finally, he turns toward me. “Anything else I can bring up?” he asks. “Is there anything you wish?”
I open my mouth to answer. There are a lot of things I could use, like a way to contact Rakan. But before I can say a word, his question finally registers.
Is there anything you wish?
Rakan asked me that, the first time he ever spoke to me. He said it once, and never again. I don’t actually remember what I answered, but I knew then, like I do now, that wishes are not a thing djinn take lightly.
But Casey isn’t a djinn.
I stare at him and swallow around the sudden knot in my throat. He’s still smiling, a tiny quirk of his lips that seems ripped out of a customer service manual. It’s just as real as my constant attempts to pretend Rakan means nothing to me.
Rakan isn’t here right now. It’s just me and this man who claims to belong to Rakan’s staff. So I make myself smile again and shake my head. “I’m good, thanks. Have a good night.”
I know that getting rid of him can’t possibly be that easy. But my stomach still drops when he takes a step toward me. “Are you certain, Miss?” he insists. “There’s nothing the al-Rashid family can’t get you.”
Alarm bells are screaming at the back of my mind. Sweat pools between my shoulder blades, making my borrowed shirt stick to my skin. I step away, no longer able to maintain a facade of calm.
Casey’s smile widens into something unnatural. “Humans always wish for something. There must be at least one small thing tonight.”
Humans. That’s not a word someone uses about themselves. Not if they’re as human as Casey is supposed to be. I have no idea who this guy is, but I don’t want him anywhere near me. “N-Not really,” I stammer. “I’m pretty comfortable. You even brought me fruit. What more could I want?”
“Plenty of things, Miss. I could provide all of them, if you wanted me to.”
He tilts his head at me, eyeing me like one would a very interesting experiment. “Then again,” he says, his voice still the same mild tone it’s been all night, “so could my brother. I suppose that’s the real reason you’re in this apartment. Isn’t that right, Iris Beckett?”
My brother. Just like that, all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place. There’s only one person this can possibly be, and in my heart, I’ve known it for some time. Maybe, from the very moment he entered the kitchen.
I blink, and in an instant, Casey is gone.
The man who takes his place is taller, and obviously inhuman.
He has Rakan’s height, Rakan’s bones, and Rakan’s dark skin.
The same obsidian horns curl over his head.
But everything else is wrong. Blue runs through his throat where Rakan runs gold.
He lets out a breath, and a gust of cold air rushes over me.
I don’t make a sound. I don’t move. Goosebumps erupt over my skin, my clothes doing very little to shield me from the low temperature. Not that it matters. I have a feeling that even wearing a damn parka couldn’t protect me now.
And yet… He hasn’t attacked me. He’s just standing there, still looking at me. Still smiling. That means something. It has to.
I force myself to contain my panic and meet his glowing, blue eyes. “You—” My voice cracks on the first try. I force it out on the second. “You’re the one who killed the harpy. The murderer.”
He hums thoughtfully, sounding almost surprised by the way I’ve catalogued him. “Is that what I am? I disagree. I’d rather call myself a hunter. And a judge.”
His words shouldn’t surprise me, but somehow, they do.
So many people hurt others, genuinely feeling they can be judge, jury, and executioner at the same time.
Monsters and humans are no different in that respect.
But it’s just hard to grasp why someone would burn another person in an alley and deem it just.
“You have a very unique way of enacting justice, Mr. al-Rashid.”
Rakan’s brother huffs. “The punishment should always befit the crime that was committed. It’s only logical.”
I almost can’t believe we’re standing here, arguing about the ethics of murder. But as long as I can keep him talking, maybe I can stall? Maybe I can find some kind of way to defend myself?
I think about the broken taser in my apartment and narrowly manage not to flinch. There’s a knife block on the other side of the counter, but what in God’s name would a knife do to a djinn? With my luck, I’d only end up stabbing myself with it.
“I take it the harpy’s crime was making a wish,” I force myself to continue. “Where’s the harm in that?”
Rakan’s brother lets out a cold laugh. “Oh, Iris. If there’s no harm in it, why won’t you make one?”
For the first time since he entered the kitchen, there’s something truly dangerous in his voice. I stumble back, barely able to stay upright now. My back hits the wall and there’s nothing else to do. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to run, and no weapon I can use.
Rakan’s brother practically glides over to me, cold smoke rising around his feet. It’s the same smoke that had invaded the alley, the day of the murder. “Come on, Iris. You know you want to. It’d be so easy. Just say it. I wish…”
I bite my lower lip and stubbornly stay silent.
He leans in, so close to me I can feel his breath on my face.
“I can feel your wishes bubbling under my skin. How about… Freedom? I can understand that better than most, you know. I can give it to you. I can free you from this pretty cage Rakan has you trapped in.”
I bet he could. He can free me from life itself, and it’d only take him a second. But he hasn’t, and I have a feeling I know exactly why.
“There’s nothing you can give me that I want,” I blurt out, hoping I’m right.
Rakan’s brother recoils, as if I’ve just struck him. For the longest time, he just stares at me, taking me in from head to toe. At that moment, he reminds me so much of Rakan it hurts. That look… It’s exactly the same one Rakan gave me in the coffee shop.
The moment doesn’t last. His eyes flash, and all of a sudden, his whole body starts to glow. His veins pulse with power, a terrible chill emanating from his skin. “You know what?” he asks, every word tight with a cold anger. “I believe you. It isn’t me you want to enslave. It’s my brother.”
The floor under my feet vibrates. Gold motes dance in the air, settling between us like a curtain. Rakan’s brother hisses under his breath. Then, he closes his eyes, and the cold fire within him settles.
“There are wards here, shields that can protect you,” Rakan told me when he first brought me here. His words had meant nothing to me back then, but now, they are a lifeline.
Rakan’s brother glances at me. He straightens his back, and just like that, he seems completely in control again. “You’re clever, Iris Beckett. I’ll give you that. But don’t worry. I have my eye on you.”
He almost sounds like the mild-mannered Casey again. That only makes him more terrifying.
“You won’t be able to hide here forever,” he continues. “You’ll make a wish eventually. And when that happens, nothing, not even Rakan’s wards, will keep you safe. My name is Kasim al-Rashid, and for my brother’s sake, I am going to kill you.”
Without another word, Rakan’s brother—Kasim—turns on his heel and exits the kitchen. It’s a strikingly mundane way for a djinn to leave any room. Just as I thought, Rakan’s wards hold true.
Except… Do they?
I steal another look at the knife block, and the truth dawns on me. The wards hadn’t kept him away from me, not really. If he’d wanted to, he could have slit my throat with ease. Or physically ripped me apart.
I slide down the wall, shaking like a leaf. Rakan’s brother had let me live for now, but only because he’s a hunter, and a judge. I’ve yet to commit the crime he sentences people for.
But I suspect his strange moral code won’t protect me forever. To him, I’m a threat to Rakan, and I’ll have to pay for that crime, sooner or later.
Rakan, where are you?