Page 22

Chapter

Twenty-Two

Kieran stood alone on the white marble balcony of his tower in Qaf. The desert stretched before him, endless waves of sand rippling in patterns that only the wind understood. Here in the Djinn realm, the sky shimmered with magic - deep sapphire threads weaving through the atmosphere, visible only to those with the power to perceive them.

His blue fire stirred restlessly within him, reacting to his troubled thoughts. The footage of the shifter's transformation played through his mind again - that crucial moment when magic became undeniable to the human world. The bear's pursuit, the shifter's split-second decision, the transformation that changed everything. Such a simple act of courage, of heroism, yet it had torn down the veil between worlds. Centuries of careful secrecy, shattered in an instant.

And now the Djinn people, as a whole, faced a quandary. The Djinn had maintained their secrecy for millennia, weaving themselves into human mythology and folklore while keeping their true nature hidden. But the shifters... their exposure threatened to unravel everything. The delicate balance between the supernatural and human worlds had never felt more precarious. The Djinn themselves must keep their own existence secret, that went without saying. Yet it was impossible to step back. Their fates were too interconnected. They couldn't abandon the shifters to face this crisis alone, could not simply stand aside and watch as another supernatural race faced exposure. It was inevitable that the revelation of the shifters' existence to the human world would lead to questions about other supernatural beings.

His silvery hair caught the magical breeze as he straightened, his shoulders squaring under the familiar burden of leadership. The Djinn Council would be meeting soon, looking to him, and the other elders, for guidance, for solutions that would both protect the shifters and maintain the Djinn's carefully guarded anonymity.

After that, he must go on to the High Council of Others - the Council made up of representatives from all the Other species. Contingency plans had been in place for decades, but those had been hypothetical. Now they had the reality to deal with. The humans had their proof, captured from multiple angles, witnessed by millions. There would be no explaining this away, no convenient mass forgetful spell to reset the balance.

The wind whispered across the dunes, carrying ancient secrets in its voice. But for once, even the desert's timeless wisdom offered no clear path forward.

A zing of magic rippled through the air, its distinctive signature announcing a visitor. Kieran turned from his contemplation of Qaf's endless dunes.

Making his way downstairs, his footsteps echoed softly against the marble as he descended the winding staircase. The ethereal light filtering through the crystal windows cast ever-shifting patterns across the walls.

At the foot of the stairs, he found Jacinth standing in the majlis , the Arabian equivalent of the reception rooms of old. Her petite form seemed almost lost among the room's grandeur - the ancient Persian carpets whose patterns held centuries of magical symbolism, the carved teak furniture inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and the silk cushions whose colors shifted like captured rainbows in the magical light.

Her arrival was unannounced, but he wasn't entirely surprised. Jacinth had never been one to stand on ceremony, despite his position. Her casual disregard for protocol had been both refreshing and aggravating since the day he'd met her, a precocious child, centuries ago.

With only a sigh, he moved to one of the ornate settees. The ancient teak creaked softly as he settled onto its silk cushions, gesturing for Jacinth to take a seat.

"You," he said with careful precision, "are a pain in my ass."

Jacinth's delighted laughter echoed off the marble walls. She dropped onto a pile of cushions across from him, her eyes dancing with amusement.

"I never thought to hear you using Modern lingo." She grinned. "I'm impressed. Has spending time with Mandy been rubbing off on you already?"

Kieran fixed her with a withering look, his silvery-blue eyes conveying centuries of accumulated exasperation, though a reluctant spark of amusement threatened to undermine his stern expression. He never could suppress the grudging affection that had grown over the centuries of dealing with her irreverent nature.

If he were being completely honest with himself, she was the closest thing to a daughter he'd ever had in his millennia of existence. Not that he'd ever tell her that. The very thought made him shudder internally. She was annoying enough already without adding that particular piece of information to her arsenal.

Still, he couldn't deny the pride he'd felt watching her grow from an impetuous young Djinn into the powerful Wish Bearer she'd become. Even her unconventional marriage to Douglas and her fierce protection of her shifter friends spoke to the depth of her character. She'd carved her own path, defying tradition while somehow managing to strengthen their people's connection to the modern world.

He'd stood beside her through centuries of growth and change, offering guidance when needed and stepping back when she needed to find her own way. He'd defended her choices to the Council more times than he cared to count, though he'd die before admitting how much satisfaction he'd taken in watching their stuffy expressions as he systematically dismantled their objections.

Jacinth's dark eyes sparkled with that familiar mischief that alternately warmed his heart and made him want to bang his head against the nearest wall. The dichotomy of his feelings toward her perfectly embodied what he imagined mortal fathers must feel - though naturally, he would never voice such thoughts aloud.

With a casual flick of his fingers, Kieran conjured a delicate tea service and a plate piled high with diamond-shaped pieces of basboussa. The sweet semolina cake glistened with honey syrup, its golden surface studded with blanched almonds. Jacinth's eyes lit up at the sight of her childhood favorite.

He watched, amused, as she immediately snatched up a piece and took an eager bite. Some things never changed - she'd had the same reaction to basboussa since she was a young girl. A touch of honey syrup glistened on her lip as she savored the treat.

"To what do I owe this unexpected visit?" He asked her.

The playful sparkle vanished from Jacinth's dark eyes, replaced by a gravity he rarely saw in her. She set down her half-eaten piece of basboussa, wiping the honey from her fingers with uncharacteristic precision.

"The Hudson Valley shifters are organizing," she said, her voice low and intense. "They've been meeting almost constantly since the news broke. Setting up contingency plans, and so forth."

"They're particularly concerned about the children," Jacinth continued. "And those whose businesses are known in the community. The veterinary clinic especially, and Kazakis Deli. They're all potential targets now."

He inclined his head, perfectly understanding the implications. The shifters had maintained their secrecy for generations, building lives and livelihoods within human communities. Now those carefully constructed existences balanced on a knife's edge.

"Their Councils are being proactive," Jacinth added. "It's not like they haven't been planning for this for ages. It was inevitable, as we all know. But the tension is high, Kieran. This isn't like anything they've faced before."

Despite the seriousness of the topic, mischief crept into Jacinth's expression, her dark eyes dancing with barely contained glee. Kieran braced himself - that look never boded well for his peace of mind.

"And..." she drew out the word with theatrical emphasis, "Lord Damien is sending some of his vampires down to provide security for the shifter businesses at night."

Kieran's eyebrows rose in considerable surprise. The Dark Lord was legendary for maintaining the strict separation between vampires and human affairs, his ancient authority setting the standard that all vampire clans followed. In all the centuries Kieran had known him, Damien had never voluntarily inserted himself into mortal matters unless his own interests were directly threatened.

"Damien?" Kieran couldn't quite keep the surprise from his voice. "The same Damien who once said he'd rather stake himself than get involved in 'mortal dramatics'?"

Jacinth nodded, clearly delighting in his reaction. "The very same. He's already arranged rotating patrols for the various businesses. His people will keep watch in the night, while the shifter patrols sleep."

This was... unexpected. Damien's vampires were formidable warriors, their presence alone would deter most trouble. But more significantly, this represented an unprecedented level of cooperation between supernatural races.

"I assume Alyssa had something to do with this decision?" Kieran asked, referring to Damien's Djinn wife.

Jacinth's grin widened. "Of course. Can you imagine otherwise?"

Kieran sat back, genuinely impressed. Perhaps the old vampire was finally emerging from his self-imposed isolation. The implications of this decision would ripple through supernatural communities across the globe. If Damien, one of the most powerful vampire leaders, and the most notorious isolationist among their kind, was choosing to protect shifters...

"Then we can expect vampire clans worldwide to follow Damien's example," he mused aloud. "Where the Dark Lord leads, the rest generally follow."

"Exactly." Jacinth's eyes sparkled as she reached for her discarded piece of basboussa. "The Vancouver clan has already reached out to their local shifter packs, and I heard glimmerings of the same from London and Paris."

"Undoubtedly there are more," Kieran said, and Jacinth nodded in agreement. The political implications would unfold like an intricate game of chess. Damien's decision would cascade through vampire society, inspiring other clan leaders to step up to protect the shifters.

"A masterful move," Kieran admitted, his respect for Alyssa's influence growing. The Djinn woman had accomplished what centuries of negotiation had failed to do - she'd maneuvered Damien into taking a public stance on supernatural cooperation for the first time since the 16th century.

Jacinth nodded, honey syrup glistening on her fingers as she savored her treat. "The other clans can't ignore this. But," she added, talking with her mouth full, "it's not like the vampires are coming out too. They'll stay secret, as we are."

Kieran nodded in understanding. The vampires' natural affinity for darkness made them perfect for covert protection. They'd guarded their own existence for millennia - they knew how to remain unseen while still maintaining an effective presence.

"That should mean less work for you, there in the Hudson Valley," he observed.

She nodded, brushing crumbs from her fingers. "My focus will be on adding protective wards to private residences," she said. "But businesses are more complicated. Too many people coming and going, too much ambient energy interfering with the spells."

Kieran understood the challenge. Public spaces were almost impossible to ward effectively.

"Security patrols make more sense," Jacinth continued, conjuring a fresh cup of hot tea and sipping cautiously. "Shifters during daylight hours, vampires at night. That's far more practical than trying to maintain complex wards in public spaces. There's a meeting planned with the security forces - shifters and the vampires coming from Damien's clan in New York City - tomorrow evening."

Kieran nodded. "You'll let me know how it goes." His tone made it clear this wasn't a request.

"Of course, Amri. "

She tilted her head, studying him with those knowing dark eyes as she deftly changed the subject. "I was wondering how Mandy is coping with the shifters' exposure?"

Kieran's hand froze halfway to his teacup. "I would have thought you had visited her to discuss it."

"It's... complicated." Jacinth licked a crumb of basboussa from her finger, her expression growing thoughtful. "I was with her quite a bit in the beginning after the first wish, yes. Going shopping with her for her new wardrobe those first days, and helping her to settle in. But I've been pulling back deliberately."

She selected another piece of cake, but this time simply held it, turning it in her fingers as she spoke.

"Mandy has had a lot to come to grips with, and while I want to help..." She sighed, setting the cake back down untouched. "I know myself too well. I have a tendency to hover, to try to fix everything for everyone." Her lips curved in a self-deprecating smile. "It would be too easy for Mandy to become dependent on me. Not because she isn't strong - she absolutely is. But because I make it so easy for people to lean on me."

Kieran studied Jacinth's delicate features, surprised by her self-awareness. In all their centuries together, she'd never shown such clear understanding of her own tendency to hover protectively over others. That she'd recognized this pattern in herself and deliberately chosen to step back, to allow Mandy space to adjust to her new reality without becoming dependent on Djinn assistance... it spoke volumes about how much Jacinth had grown.

Memories cascaded through his mind - the impetuous young Djinn she'd been, the powerful Wish Bearer she'd become, the devoted wife and mother who'd challenged centuries of tradition. Through it all, she'd maintained that essential spark of joy that made her uniquely Jacinth, while developing wisdom he'd never expected to see.

In all their centuries together, had he ever actually told her?

"Jacinth." His deep voice carried more emotion than he'd intended. She looked up, those dark eyes widening slightly at his tone. "I don't believe I've ever told you how very proud I am of you. Of the woman you've become."

Kieran watched as Jacinth opened and closed her mouth several times, those expressive dark eyes brimming with tears. Amusement flickered at having rendered her speechless - a feat he'd never managed in all their centuries together.

"I... I don't..." Jacinth stammered, her hands twisting in her lap. A tear escaped, trailing down her cheek as she struggled to form words.

"Surely this must be a sign of the apocalypse," Kieran drawled, his deep voice rich with humor. "Jacinth, rendered completely speechless. Perhaps we should alert the Council that the world is about to end?"

A trembly laugh escaped her as she swiped at her tears. "Oh, stop it," she managed, though her voice wavered. "You're terrible."

"Indeed," he agreed solemnly, though his silvery-blue eyes sparkled. "My reputation for terribleness is legendary."

Kieran watched as Jacinth conjured a delicate lace handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes and blowing her nose with an unladylike honk that made his lips quiver with amusement. Some things never changed - she'd always been emotional, wearing her heart on her sleeve even as a young Djinn.

"So," she said, wadding the handkerchief in her small hands. Her dark eyes sparkled with the return of their usual mischief as she changed the subject. "About Mandy?"

Kieran shook his head, genuine puzzlement creeping through him. "She has completely embraced her 'live mermaid' dream. She has ordered one of those mermaid tails off the internet - eBay I believe - and in anticipation of receiving it, she is spending hours in that pool, practicing swimming, posing and preening, and blowing kisses. Lengthening the time she can spend underwater without coming up for air."

He savored the memory of watching her glide through the water, her movements growing more graceful each day as she explored her newfound freedom from pain. The joy radiating from her during those sessions was almost tangible.

Jacinth's giggle drew him from his thoughts. "And has she mentioned anything about her other two wishes?"

Frustration welled up inside him.

Bewilderment and reluctant amusement churned inside him. The situation defied all his centuries as a Wish Bearer. Humans typically rushed through their wishes, eager to grab everything they could. But Mandy...

"It's as if she's forgotten about them entirely," he said, his deep voice carrying his bewilderment.

Jacinth's eyes sparkled with mischief. "So what else has our mermaid been up to?"

With amusement, he recalled Mandy's recent activities. "Shopping for clothing, primarily."

"Well, that's just common sense," Jacinth nodded sagely. "She dropped at least ten dress sizes overnight."

"Indeed." Kieran's lips twitched as he remembered Mandy's organizational approach to rebuilding her wardrobe. "Though her newest hobby is somewhat more... unexpected."

"Oh?" Jacinth leaned forward, curiosity evident in her expression.

"She's been leaving hundred-dollar tips everywhere she goes." He couldn't help but feel amused by the memory of the shocked waitress at the diner when he'd been keeping surreptitious watch on Mandy - unseen by her - the week before. "Coffee shops, restaurants, even the bag boy at the supermarket."

Jacinth's dark eyes went round with surprise. "Hundred-dollar tips? Really?"

"And she's dyed her hair." He shook his head with bemusement at the transformation. "Every shade of pink and lilac imaginable."

"Oh!" Jacinth's face lit up with understanding. "I know exactly where that came from!"

Kieran arched one dark eyebrow, curiosity stirring at her certainty.

"There was this contestant on the Great British Baking Show who had her hair just like that." Jacinth grinned, clearly delighted by the connection.

Kieran pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. "Of course. I should have known it had something to do with that baking show she's always watching." A reluctant smile tugged at his lips. "She's also added two more potential wishes to her spreadsheet."

Jacinth's dark eyes lit with curiosity as she leaned forward eagerly. "Oh? Do tell!"

Keeping his expression deliberately neutral, Kieran met her gaze with his silvery-blue eyes. "She's considering wishing to become a shapeshifter."

The effect was immediate and spectacular. Jacinth's eyes went comically wide before she toppled sideways onto the cushions, laughing merrily.

"A... a shapeshifter?" she gasped between peals of glee. "Our Mandy? The woman who alphabetizes her spice rack and color-codes her bookshelf?"

"Indeed," he said dryly. "She has an entire column dedicated to pros and cons. The pros include 'wouldn't need to worry about becoming homeless' and 'really great sense of vision and smell, depending on species.'"

He paused for effect. "The cons list begins with 'shedding might be an issue.'"

This sent Jacinth into fresh paroxysms of mirth. She attempted to sit up, took one look at his carefully maintained serious expression, and collapsed into laughter again.

Kieran watched as Jacinth finally managed to collect herself, wiping tears of mirth from her face. He savored the anticipation of what he had to report next.

"She's also devised a solution to her travel difficulties," he said casually, keeping his expression carefully neutral.

Jacinth immediately perked up, her dark eyes sparkling with curiosity as she straightened among the cushions. "Oh? What brilliant organizational system has she come up with this time?"

"Well," Kieran drawled, his silvery-blue eyes gleaming, "since her physical limitations are no longer an issue now she hasn't the disability to contend with, she's concluded that money is the only remaining obstacle to travel."

"And?" Jacinth leaned forward eagerly, nearly knocking over her teacup in her enthusiasm. "She's decided to ask for money after all, so she can travel first class, or charter her own planes?"

"Not at all." He couldn't help but smile as he delivered the punchline. "She's considering wishing for the ability to teleport."

Jacinth's mouth dropped open. For a moment, she sat frozen in shock. Then she toppled once more onto the cushions , howling with fresh peals of laughter.

"She... she..." Jacinth wheezed, clutching her sides. "Teleportation! You have to admit, she's a genius in coming up with outside-the-box solutions."

Kieran's eyes danced with amusement at her reaction, though he maintained his carefully neutral expression.

"Oh!" Jacinth gasped, wiping tears from her eyes. "I can just see her serious face as she types all that into her spreadsheet!" She dissolved into fresh giggles, falling back among the cushions.

She finally managed to compose herself, though occasional giggles still escaped her as she brushed crumbs from her clothing and smoothed her dark hair.

"I really should get back," she said, rising gracefully from her nest of cushions. "The meeting between the shifters and vampires is tonight, and I promised Douglas I'd be there early to help set up the conference room at the clinic."

The familiar scent of jasmine and sunshine that always accompanied her wrapped around him briefly.

"Don't forget to let me know how the meeting goes," he reminded her, though he knew she wouldn't forget.

"Of course, Amri. "

With a final wave, she vanished in a shimmer of magic, leaving only the faintest trace of her jasmine scent behind. The room felt oddly empty without her vibrant presence, though the evidence of her visit remained in the scattered cushions and the half-empty plate of basboussa.

Thoughts of Mandy's concentrated expression tugged at him. The urge to teleport directly to her apartment, to check on her progress with swimming and see what new additions she'd made to her endless spreadsheets, caught him off guard with its intensity.

He tamped down the impulse firmly. He was her Wish Bearer, nothing more. The fact that he found her methodical approach to magic fascinating, or that her practical wisdom often surprised him, was irrelevant.

A wave of frustration coursed through him, radiating warmth from the pendant against his chest. The connection between his vessel and its twin, worn by Mandy, pulsed with familiar energy. He could sense her general well-being through that link - she was content, probably working on one of her stories or swimming in that pool she loved so much.

That should be enough. It would have to be enough.

But the desire to visit the mortal realm, to visit her, continued to pull at him.

The realization disturbed him deeply.

Kieran made his way back up the winding marble staircase, his footsteps echoing in the silence left by Jacinth's departure. The magical light streaming through the crystal windows cast ever-shifting patterns across his path, but he barely noticed them, his thoughts still churning.

Emerging onto the highest floor of his tower, he crossed to the balcony doors. The intricate brass handles were cool beneath his touch as he pushed them open, letting the desert breeze sweep past him into the room. His blue fire stirred within him, responding to the ancient magic that permeated the air of Qaf.

Moving to the balcony's edge, he placed his hands on the ornate marble railing, feeling its familiar smoothness beneath his palms. The endless dunes stretched before him, their golden waves rippling under the ethereal light of Qaf's enchanted sky. Here, high above the desert floor, the magical energies were more visible - sapphire threads weaving through the atmosphere, creating patterns only those with supernatural sight could perceive.

He leaned against the railing, his silvery hair stirring in the magical breeze. From this vantage point, he could see the shimmer of protective wards that enclosed his domain, their ancient magic a constant reassurance of security and stability. The view had remained unchanged for centuries, yet today it felt different somehow. The world below was transforming, and even here in his sanctuary, he could feel the reverberations of change.

Standing here, between the two worlds he inhabited, Kieran felt the weight of his position as both prince and Wish Bearer.

Kieran turned from the balcony, pacing the length of his private chambers. The magical threads of Qaf's atmosphere shimmered around him, but his mind kept drifting to more earthly concerns. To a modest apartment in Tucson, where a woman with newly pink-and-lilac hair was probably working on her latest novel or practicing her mermaid swimming.

A sense of restlessness stirred within him. Even as he contemplated the larger implications of the shifter exposure and its impact on the supernatural world, thoughts of Mandy lingered like a melody playing softly in another room - not demanding attention, but impossible to completely ignore.

In all his centuries as a Wish Bearer, he'd never encountered a human quite like her.

Her methodical spreadsheet of potential wishes had both amused and intrigued him. Where others would have rushed headlong into making demands, she approached the opportunity with careful consideration and surprising restraint. A flicker of warmth ignited within him, mirroring his growing fascination with her unique perspective.

She dreamed of exploring ancient cities and distant shores, yet refused to consider using wealth to make such travels possible. Her romantic soul yearned for adventure while her practical mind cataloged all the reasons such adventures were impractical. She crafted passionate stories filled with supernatural beings, yet approached the reality of magic with analytical precision.

The contradictions continued to surprise him. Here was a woman who organized her entire life into careful categories and systems, yet filled her mind with wild flights of fancy and impossible tales. She maintained rigid control over her environment while allowing her imagination complete freedom to soar.

Most puzzling was her attitude toward the wishes themselves. Despite being a storyteller who specialized in tales of magic and romance, she approached actual magic with pragmatic skepticism rather than wide-eyed wonder. Instead of embracing the fantasy as he would have expected, she methodically dissected each potential wish for flaws and unintended consequences.

Even more remarkable was her attitude toward mortality itself. Where most humans either feared it obsessively or pretended it didn't exist, Mandy had approached the subject with her characteristic practical wisdom. He found himself pondering her words as he recalled their earlier conversation about death.

"I don't want to know when," she'd told him, those forest-green eyes clear and direct. "That's all. Not asking to live forever - that would be exhausting. Just don't want to spend my final years counting down the days."

The simple logic of her request had struck him then, and continued to intrigue him now. No desperate pleas for immortality, no demands to extend her life beyond its natural span. Simply a desire to live whatever time she had without the burden of foreknowledge.

He quietly acknowledged his growing respect. In all his centuries as a Wish Bearer, he'd rarely encountered such clear-eyed acceptance of mortality combined with such determined enjoyment of life's remaining pleasures.

He forced his attention back to the pressing matters at hand. The High Council meeting would require his full focus. Yet even as he reviewed potential strategies and diplomatic approaches, that background awareness remained - a quiet warmth in his chest, echoing through the magical connection of their paired vessels.

His lips curved slightly as he imagined her reaction to the current crisis - she'd probably already started a new spreadsheet analyzing the societal implications of supernatural exposure. Complete with color-coding and carefully organized tabs, no doubt.

The thought brought unexpected warmth to his expression before he schooled his features back to their usual stern lines, realizing he had strayed once more from the pressing matters needing his attention.

The isolation of his tower had always provided clarity before, allowing him to maintain the emotional distance necessary for his role as both prince and Council member. But now... now the very solitude he'd cultivated seemed to mock him. He'd existed for millennia, witnessed the rise and fall of countless civilizations, yet here he stood, unsettled by memories of shared tea and cookies with a mortal woman who organized her books by genre and was ruled by two fluffy housecats.