Page 11

Chapter

Eleven

Mandy sat in her favorite recliner, laptop balanced on her knees as she edited her latest chapters. She'd written three chapters in the last three days - chapters she was deliriously happy with. Mozart sprawled across the arm of the chair, occasionally batting at her fingers as they moved across the keyboard.

A whisper of movement drew her attention. She turned her head, seeing Kieran materialize in her living room, his silver hair catching the afternoon sunlight. His presence filled the small space, somehow both intimidating and welcome.

" Sabah il-khayr ," he greeted.

" Sabah il-noor ," she responded with a welcoming smile.

"You haven't called me to you." His deep voice carried a note of curiosity rather than accusation.

Heat crept up Mandy's neck. She closed her laptop and set it aside, buying time to organize her thoughts. "No, I... I haven't."

Mozart chirped a greeting and abandoned his post to investigate Kieran's robes. Bach, snoozing on the cat tree, did no more than flick an ear in their direction. The cats' casual acceptance of the Djinn's presence only highlighted how surreal her life had become.

"May I ask why?" Kieran settled into the chair across from her, his silvery-blue eyes intent on her face.

Mandy's fingers twisted in her lap. "It feels... wrong. Presumptuous." She gestured vaguely at the pendant. "The idea of just summoning you, like you're some kind of servant rather than..." She trailed off, unsure how to describe what he was. An ancient, powerful being? A Djinn prince? Someone who had shown her nothing but patience and consideration?

"A servant?" His eyebrow arched slightly.

"Yes! I mean, you're..." She waved her hand helplessly. "You're you. Calling you just because I just want to talk to you seems incredibly rude."

A surprised laugh escaped him, rich and deep. The sound sent an unexpected flutter through her stomach. "After all this time, that's what concerns you? Not the magnitude of having three wishes, but the etiquette of how to request my presence?"

Put that way, it did sound a bit ridiculous. Mandy felt her cheeks warm. "Well, when you say it like that..."

A horrible thought struck her.

"Wait - is there some kind of time limit on this? Do I need to make these wishes quickly?" Her stomach clenched as an even worse possibility occurred to her. "Oh god, are you bound to that pendant like a slave until I make all three wishes?"

Kieran's silvery-blue eyes widened slightly, as if he were startled, and he held up one elegant hand. "No, nothing of the sort. I am neither bound nor enslaved. The pendant is merely a focus point, a magical connection between us."

Relief flooded through Mandy as the tension drained from her shoulders. She sank deeper into her recliner, one hand coming up to touch the pendant at her throat. Not a prison then. Thank goodness.

Kieran studied her with that unnerving intensity, his head tilted slightly. The afternoon sunlight streaming through her window caught his hair, creating that ethereal halo effect that made him seem even more otherworldly.

"Have you decided on your first wish?" His deep voice filled her small living room.

Mandy shook her head. "No, though not for lack of trying. I do think about it, though," she said. A chuckle escaped her as she confessed, "A lot! I know I must sound ridiculous, being this indecisive about something as incredible as three magical wishes."

Kieran considered her for a long moment, his silvery-blue eyes gleaming with an unreadable intensity. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Most people start off thinking of money."

"Oh, that was practically my first thought," Mandy admitted with a self-deprecating laugh. "How could it not be? And twenty or thirty years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated. But now?" She shrugged, and made a little helpless gesture with her hands. "Having tons of money would create more problems than I want to deal with."

Kieran's eyebrow arched upward in that elegant way of his, and Mandy found herself momentarily distracted by the motion. She'd read about men being able to do that in countless romance novels - that single-brow lift that conveyed volumes of meaning. But she'd never actually met anyone who could pull it off in real life, let alone with such devastating effectiveness.

"You find something amusing?" His deep voice carried a note of curiosity.

"Sorry," Mandy felt heat creep up her neck. "I was just thinking about how you do that thing with your eyebrow. I've never seen anyone who could actually pull that off before."

Heat flooded Mandy's cheeks as Kieran simply stared at her. She watched him pinch the bridge of his nose between two fingers, and she ducked her head, suddenly fascinated by Mozart's tail swishing against her arm.

"So, money. You were saying?" His deep voice carried a note of gentle prompting.

"Right. Money." Mandy gathered her scattered thoughts, grateful for the redirect. "The thing is, I've got enough to live comfortably. My needs are simple - this apartment, my cats, my writing. A big windfall would mean dealing with financial advisors, investment strategies, tax implications..." She wrinkled her nose. "Just thinking about it gives me a headache."

Kieran's silvery-blue eyes studied her with that unnerving intensity that made her feel completely transparent. "Most would consider such concerns a small price to pay for wealth," he observed, his deep voice neutral.

"Maybe." Mandy stroked Mozart's fur, drawing comfort from his steady purring. "But since my disability forced me to downsize my lifestyle to the basics, I've discovered what I truly valued. Having more money would mean more responsibilities, more decisions, more stress. I'd rather focus on the things that bring me joy - my stories, my cats, quiet afternoons with a good book."

Kieran remained silent, those ancient silvery-blue eyes fixed on her with patient expectation. The weight of his gaze made Mandy's skin prickle with awareness. She sighed. She hated discussing her physical limitations, hated the way people's expressions changed when she explained her condition. Even after all these years, it still stung.

"Look, with my back and knee the way they are, I can't do much of anything anyway." The words tasted bitter on her tongue. "I can walk across the floor, maybe stand up long enough to make myself a simple salad before I have to find a chair to sit in quickly."

"It is what it is. I've accepted that." She met Kieran's steady gaze, lifting her chin slightly. "All the money in the world isn't going to fix what's wrong with me."

"Perhaps not," Kieran's deep voice held a note of confusion. "But money would pay for surgery. For your back, your knee."

Mandy shook her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips. Of course he wouldn't know about the VA system - why would ancient magical beings keep up with modern healthcare bureaucracy?

"That's not actually the issue," she explained, shifting carefully in her chair to face him better. "I'm a disabled veteran. The Veterans Administration covers all my medical care, including any surgeries I might need. They've already been pressing me to have surgery, but I've refused it."

His eyes narrowed slightly, and she could almost see him processing this new information.

"Back surgery..." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "It's complicated. The techniques have improved dramatically over the past few decades, but it's still basically a roll of the dice. Once they cut into the spine, there's no going back. If it goes wrong..." She gestured helplessly. "Some people have back surgery and it's like a miracle - their pain vanishes, their mobility returns. Others wake up and discover they're worse off than before. I could end up in more pain than I deal with now, or possibly even completely unable to walk at all, instead of just having limited mobility. And there's absolutely no way to know which way it's going to go into until after it's done.""

The afternoon sunlight streaming through her windows caught Kieran's silvery hair as he listened, creating that ethereal halo effect again. His expression remained neutral, but something in those ancient eyes suggested he was absorbing every word with careful attention.

"You could purchase a house," Kieran observed, his silvery-blue eyes scanning her modest living room. "Something more permanent, that's yours."

Mandy struggled to stifle the flash of resentment that surged through her at his easy dismissal of her home. The apartment might not be a mansion, but it was perfect for her needs. Spacious enough to move around comfortably, yet compact enough that she could easily navigate from room to room even on her bad days. The layout had been carefully chosen to accommodate her limitations, with strategic placement of chairs and furniture.

The kitchen opened directly into the living room, allowing her to keep an eye on whatever was cooking while she rested in her recliner. The bathroom had been modified with safety rails and a walk-in shower. She might not own it, but it was still hers.

Then again, she had to admit the idea of owning her own place had crossed her mind more than once. Being upset with Kieran for suggesting the same thing seemed a bit hypocritical. She drew a deep breath, forcing herself to consider his words objectively.

Mandy sighed, as she considered how to explain. "I've actually thought about that, too," she admitted. "But owning a house comes with so many responsibilities. I'd need to hire a housekeeper for sure - cleaning is hard enough in this apartment with my limitations."

She gestured toward her window, where the apartment complex's swimming pool sparkled invitingly in the afternoon sun. "And I have to have access to a pool, swimming is the only activity that involves moving, that I can actually do without pain, or making things worse. So, if I'm buying a house, it has to have a pool. Which means hiring a pool maintenance service." Her lips quirked into a wry smile. "Plus a gardener, because yards don't take care of themselves. And definitely a handyman - when you own a house, you can't just call maintenance when things break."

"So that's already three or four people. And since we're talking unlimited funds here, might as well add a personal chef - cooking isn't exactly easy when standing for more than a few minutes kicks off an escalation in my pain pretty fast." The more she spoke, the more overwhelming the scenario became. "Then I'd need an accountant to handle all the payroll and tax implications."

Mandy drew a deep breath, thinking of all those people she'd have to interact with on a regular basis. "And since I'm basically a cave-dwelling introvert, I'd have to hire someone to actually talk to all these people for me. So, a PA." she added, glancing at Kieran's otherworldly features. "That's a personal assistant - someone to manage all the day-to-day interactions I'd rather avoid."

Kieran's lips twitched, and his silvery-blue eyes gleamed with barely suppressed amusement. "I see you've given this more than a passing thought."

Heat crept up Mandy's neck as she realized how detailed her impromptu house-ownership scenario had become.

"And we're back to my ADHD tendencies," she said, gesturing vaguely at her head. She glanced toward her kitchen, where a large spice rack with pull-out drawers sat on the counter by the stove. "I mean, I alphabetize my spices."

Kieran stared at her, his ancient features settling into an expression she couldn't quite interpret. The silence stretched between them for a long moment before he spoke, his deep voice utterly blank.

"You... alphabetize... your spices."

Mandy grinned. "That's exactly what my mom said, in just that tone of voice. But see, that's exactly what I mean. I don't understand why people don't get it. If I want cumin, I don't want to search through dozens of jars or bags to find what I'm looking for." She gestured toward her meticulously organized spice rack. "It just makes sense to alphabetize them."

Heat crept up her neck as Kieran's gaze remained fixed on her, his ancient features unreadable. She grimaced, ducking her head to avoid his gaze.

"I'm the only one in the world it seems to make sense to," she muttered.

Kieran's silvery-blue eyes narrowed slightly. "How do you alphabetize spices that come in bags?"

Mandy bit her lower lip, trying to suppress her amusement. This wasn't her first rodeo explaining her spice organization system.

"I don't keep them in the bags," she explained, gesturing toward her kitchen. "See those drawers there? They slide out, and hold bottles of spices. The bottles are all the same size and shape, glass, with clear labels."

"I buy the spices in larger bottles and bags - those stay in a basket in the back of my pantry. Then I use those to refill the bottles in the spice rack when they get low." She smiled, warming to her subject. "It's actually more cost-effective to buy in bulk, especially for things I use frequently like cinnamon, and Indian and Italian seasonings."

Mandy watched Kieran's expression, waiting for the usual reaction - the raised eyebrows, the barely concealed amusement, maybe even an eye roll or three. But his ancient features remained thoughtful, those intense eyes studying her spice rack with genuine interest.

"Each bottle has its proper place," she continued, encouraged by the fact that he was actually listening to her… hearing her. "When I'm cooking, I can reach for exactly what I need without having to search through a jumbled mess of different-sized containers. Then I just put them back in their proper slot."

Mandy warmed to the topic now that he seemed genuinely interested rather than dismissive. "Oh, and my books are alphabetized too. By genre first, then author's last name, then title within each author's works."

Her gaze swept lovingly across the overflowing bookshelves lining her living room walls. The familiar, organized chaos of her collection brought her joy every time she looked at it.

"And my DVDs," she continued, gesturing toward the entertainment center. "Those are sorted into categories first - movies, TV shows, and documentaries. Then alphabetical by title within each section." She paused, remembering an important distinction. "Except for Christmas movies, of course. Those have their own separate shelf."

Again, Kieran closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers as though fighting off a headache.

"Of course," he echoed, his deep voice carrying a note of what might have been either pain or amusement - possibly both. He held up one elegant hand, his eyes closing briefly. "Enough. I understand the picture perfectly."

Mandy pressed her lips together, trying to contain the bubble of laughter threatening to escape. She couldn't remember the last time she'd enjoyed herself this much. Here sat a being who had witnessed millennia of human history, who wielded powers beyond mortal comprehension, who could probably turn her into a toad with a mere thought - and she'd managed to drive him to distraction with her enthusiastic explanation of her organizational skills.

Bach chose that moment to wake up from his nap on the cat tree, and leaped onto her lap, adding his purr to his brother's. She scratched behind his ears, biting her lower lip to keep from grinning as Kieran drew another deep breath.

The whole situation felt surreal. A few days ago, her biggest concern had been managing her pain levels and deciding what to write next. Now she sat in her living room, watching an ancient Djinn prince struggle to maintain his composure in the face of her alphabetized spice collection.

Kieran tilted his head, studying her with that mesmerizing gaze. "What else would you not be able to pursue with unlimited resources?"

"Travel." The word sprang from Mandy's lips without hesitation. "I'd love to return to Cairo... and go explore the Carpathian Mountains... take the steamboat journey from St. Louis down to New Orleans. Heck, I'd just love to explore the French Quarter." She sighed, absently stroking Bach's fur. "For that matter, I'd love to visit my daughter in Washington state more often. Though that's more manageable since I can drive myself without aggravating my back too much. I can drive long distances just fine, although getting luggage in and out of motel rooms is tricky, but it's doable. The real issue is flying."

His dark brows drew together. "You dislike flying?"

"Oh no!" Mandy smiled reminiscently, memories flooding back. "I love flying. The takeoff, the landing, floating above the clouds, watching the earth spread out below like a patchwork quilt." Her eyes lit up as she remembered. "When I served in the Army, I went up in helicopters all the time. Those were incredible - nothing like being in a commercial plane. It's just you and the hopefully clear blue sky."

She laughed, the sound bright with nostalgia. "Once we had to set down in a cow pasture because the mist was so thick." Her smile dimmed slightly. "I even applied for warrant officer flight school to learn to fly them myself. Everything was lined up perfectly, but my depth perception wasn't quite good enough, even though I met all the other requirements."

The old disappointment tightened her throat. "That was crushing. One of the biggest disappointments of my life, actually. After that, nothing I ever did seemed to turn out right."

Mandy drew a deep breath, pushing aside the old regret about flight school. "But it's not the actual flying that's the problem nowadays. It's everything else about air travel." She shifted in her chair, trying to find a more comfortable position. "The whole airport experience is a nightmare when you're handicapped."

"First, there's the endless lines at the ticket counter, then more lines for security screening, then more lines for boarding." She grimaced at the memory of her last flight. "Even with wheelchair assistance, it's still a major aggravation. You're completely dependent on airport personnel to take you from point A to point B."

"And don't get me started on airplane seats," she added, her voice taking on a frustrated edge. "They're absolutely terrible for anyone with back problems. Trust me on this - they hit exactly wrong, pinching already angry nerves in ways that make the pain exponentially worse."

"And getting off the plane?" She shook her head. "That's just everything in reverse, with the added fun of trying to move after being cramped in those torture devices they call seats for hours. And if you have to transfer planes… well, you see. "

Kieran's expression softened, as he nodded slowly. "Yes, I see," he said, his deep voice thoughtful. "I had never considered those aspects of modern air travel before."

Mandy sighed, feeling a twinge of envy, and said, "No, why would you?"

Her fingers traced the pendant's warm surface as she considered the vast differences between them. Here sat an immortal being who could probably teleport anywhere in the world with a mere thought. Someone who'd likely witnessed the pyramids being built, who'd watched empires rise and fall, who'd experienced more in his millennia of existence than she could even imagine.

"I mean, you probably just..." She waved her hand vaguely in the air, stifling the faint stirrings of envy, "...poof yourself wherever you want to go. No security lines, no cramped airplane seats, no hauling luggage through endless airport terminals."

Heat crept up Mandy's neck as she realized how long she'd been rambling about her organizational quirks and travel limitations. Here sat an ancient, powerful being, patiently listening to her babble instead of doing... whatever important things Djinn princes normally did.

"I'm sorry," she said, ducking her head. "I keep putting off making these wishes, and you're stuck waiting around for me to make up my mind."

"There is no need to apologize." Kieran's deep voice carried a gentleness that made her look up. His silvery-blue eyes held no judgment, only patience. "The choice of wishes is not something to be rushed."

"But surely you have better things to do than listen to me go on about alphabetized spices and airport complaints?"

A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I have existed for millennia. A few days or weeks while you consider your choices is insignificant."

"You're sure?" Mandy's fingers found the pendant at her throat, its warmth reassuring against her skin. "I promise I'll try to decide on my first wish soon. I just want to make sure I get it right."

"Take whatever time you need. There is no time limit on your wishes," Kieran said, his deep voice gentle. "No deadline you must meet. The magic will wait until you are ready."

Relief flooded through Mandy at his words. She'd been carrying that worry without even fully realizing it - the fear that she might be forced to make hasty decisions about something so important.

"Really?" She absently stroked Mozart's fur, drawing comfort from his steady purring. "I won't be... I don't know, holding you back from other duties or responsibilities?"

Kieran's lips curved into a slight smile. "I am quite capable of attending to my duties while maintaining our connection through the vessel. Take whatever time you need to consider your choices carefully."

The tension she'd been carrying in her shoulders eased. Having unlimited time to think through her wishes properly made the whole situation feel less overwhelming. She could approach this methodically, considering all angles and implications, rather than rushing into decisions she might later regret.

Relief flooded through Mandy, but confusion quickly followed. "Then why did you seem so... frustrated earlier about taking time to decide?"

"Because it is highly unusual." Kieran's deep voice carried a note of bewilderment. "In all my millennia as a Djinn, I have never encountered someone who could not immediately think of things to wish for. The challenge is typically limiting their desires to only three wishes."

"And yet you hesitate," Kieran observed, leaning forward slightly, his ageless eyes studying her with renewed fascination, "weighing the drawbacks of each possibility that crosses your mind, struggling to commit to a single wish."

Mandy felt heat creep up her neck under his intense scrutiny. "Well, when you put it that way, it does sound a bit ridiculous."

"Not ridiculous," Kieran corrected. "Merely unprecedented."

Steam rose from the spout of the teapot on the table between them, and Mandy had to shake her head as the small tea glasses refilled themselves. Taking the one nearest her, she sank back into her recliner, a rueful laugh escaping her. "I am so envious you can do that. Do you have any idea how wonderful it would be to just..." She mimicked his elegant hand gesture. "...conjure things instead of having to get up and fetch them?"

Kieran's silvery-blue eyes fixed on her with that penetrating stare. "Explain to me more about the pain issues." It seemed more a command than a request.

Mandy grimaced, her fingers tightening around the pendant. She hated discussing her medical issues - it always made her feel vulnerable, exposed. "It took me two years to accept being permanently disabled and losing so many activities I loved." Her throat tightened. "I wasted that time crying and feeling sorry for myself, obsessing over the unfairness. Time I'll never get back, because this is my reality."

She met Kieran's steady gaze, chin lifted. "It's easy to fall into that trap where hopelessness blocks all positive thinking and stops you from moving forward or enjoying life. Once I finally got past self-pity, I focused on finding what I could do and being happy with that."

"So you've pared your life down to the basics, in order to survive," Kieran said, his deep voice carrying a note of understanding that made Mandy's throat tighten unexpectedly.

"Yes, exactly." Relief flooded through her at his precise grasp of her situation. Most people didn't get it - they saw only limitations, where she'd crafted careful solutions. "I've created my own little world here."

She gestured around the apartment, taking in the strategically placed furniture, the wall of bookshelves, the cat trees positioned by sunny windows. "It's not huge, but it's perfect for me. Large enough to be comfortable, but small enough that keeping it up isn't beyond my capabilities."

Through her window, the complex's swimming pool sparkled in the afternoon sun. "And that pool? Its location is no accident. Swimming is one of the few exercises I can still do that's actually good for my back, so I chose this apartment specifically to be close enough that getting there and back doesn't undo the benefits."

She watched as Kieran's silvery-blue eyes swept around her carefully curated space, taking in all the small adaptations that made her independent life possible.

"It may not be big, or fancy, but it suits me. A big house wouldn't be good for me," she explained. "Would I love to have a house, airy and spacious, with lots of windows? A library with a fireplace and one of those rolling ladders? A swimming pool and gardens?" She shook her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "I'm disabled, not insane. Of course I want that! In fact, a house like that has been my dream all my life."

She sighed a little, as she continued, "But it's simply not in my best interests, finances aside."

She broke off as her glass refilled itself, the fragrant steam rising in lazy spirals. The familiar scent of clove and other exotic spices tickled her nose, bringing a smile to her face.

"You Djinn and your tea!" Mandy laughed, carefully lifting the glass to take a sip. She savored the fragrant tea, letting the familiar spices dance across her tongue. The taste transported her back to those sun-drenched afternoons, watching the bustling streets of Cairo from her favorite café. walking along the Corniche el Nil, eating heated peanuts, buying jasmine necklaces from small, dark-haired children with big eyes, the bells and clopping hooves of passing hanturs , the horse-drawn carriages...

"You are thinking of Cairo again." Kieran's deep voice broke through her reverie.

Mandy's eyes flew open. "How did you?—?"

He tapped one elegant finger against his temple, those silvery-blue eyes gleaming. "You were shouting again."

Heat flooded Mandy's cheeks as she set her tea down carefully. "Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was thinking so loud."

"It pains you." His observation cut straight to her heart. "These memories of Cairo."

Mandy clasped her hands tightly in her lap, studying the way her fingers intertwined rather than meet his penetrating gaze.

"It was... easier before," she said softly. "When I had no money to travel, I could tell myself that was why I couldn't go back to Cairo, or explore the places I dreamed of seeing. That I could save up and maybe one day go back." She drew a shaky breath. "But now, knowing I can never go back because of my physical limitations, even if I had the money... it makes everything so much worse."

Memories flooded back - those dark early days when she'd first faced the permanence of her disability. "It brings it all back. The memories, the longing... the frustration and anger at how unfair it all is." Her voice cracked slightly. "And the longing for those places just tears me apart inside, especially Cairo. I can't... I just can't go down that road again. It's hard for me to even think of my time in Cairo now."

All of a sudden, the weight of everything she'd lost, everything she could never have again, pressed down on her chest until she could barely breathe. It was only with effort that she managed to keep tears from welling up.

Silence stretched between them, broken only by Bach's steady purring and Mozart's occasional trilling chirps. Kieran's eyes studied her with that unnerving intensity that made her skin prickle.

"These issues with traveling," he finally said, his deep voice measured and calm, "they are all things that significant wealth can overcome." His otherworldly features remained expressionless as he continued. "Private jets eliminate the need for commercial airports entirely. Personal flight crews can accommodate any special requirements. Chauffeurs and assistants can handle luggage and arrangements. Luxury accommodations can be tailored exactly to your needs."

Mandy stared at him, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly as she tried to process the casual way he suggested such extravagance. Heat crept up her neck as she finally found her voice.

"Do you have any idea how greedy that would be?" The words burst from her with unexpected force. "I mean, if I was born into that kind of money and lifestyle, or if I'd become some tech whiz and invented Apple or something, and it all just took off naturally - at least then I'd have earned it somehow." She gestured helplessly with her hands. "But to make a wish for that kind of wealth, just for those reasons? It... I just… Argh! Even thinking about it makes me feel like some scuzzy crime lord or something."

Kieran's lips twitched, and Mandy caught the gleam of suppressed amusement in his eyes.

"I'm serious!" She scowled at him, crossing her arms.

"My apologies," he said, his deep voice rich with barely contained mirth. "I am attempting to envision you as a scuzzy crime lord, and finding myself failing abjectly."