Page 9

Chapter

Nine

Kieran's unexpected smile warmed those silvery-blue eyes. His imposing presence had softened, and for the first time since he'd appeared in her living room, Mandy felt truly at ease with him.

"Yes," he said, his deep voice gentle. "It's quite real."

Bach chirped, headbutting her hand in his ever present quest for scritches. Absently she complied, noting that Mozart had crept forward and was eyeing the hem of Kieran's robes as the Djinn reached for his tea glass. The cat's fluffy tail twitched in that telltale way that meant mischief was imminent. The orange tabby crouched low, his green eyes fixed on the shimmering fabric that caught the late afternoon light.

"Mozart," she warned, recognizing the pre-pounce wiggle of his hindquarters. "Don't you dare."

Kieran paused, his hand still extended toward the delicate glass. His silvery-blue eyes tracked Mozart's movement with what looked suspiciously like amusement. The stern set of his features softened as he observed the cat's impending attack.

"I should probably warn you," Mandy said, trying to distract Mozart by wiggling her fingers. "He has a thing about flowing fabric. Especially anything sparkly."

Kieran's black eyebrow arched upward as he regarded the creeping cat. "Indeed?" His deep voice carried a note of genuine interest rather than the annoyance she'd expected.

Mozart chose that moment to pounce, batting at the shimmering hem with lightning-quick paws. The fabric rippled like water under his attack, seeming to dance just out of reach no matter how he swiped at it. Just like magic.

Magic.

"A whole life changer," she whispered, more to herself than to Kieran. The words felt inadequate to express the magnitude of what lay before her.

Her thoughts whirled with potential. Her novels. She could wish for recognition. Maybe her stories could catch Oprah's eye, or perhaps she'd find her name rocketing up the bestseller rankings. Maybe some big-shot filmmaker would stumble upon her work and declare it ideal for the silver screen. She could reach countless readers - masses of people diving into her worlds, falling in love with the people she'd created. The thought left her dizzy with longing. What she wouldn’t give for that!

Mandy's eyes lit up as an idea struck her. The perfect wish - one that would benefit not just her, but countless others. Her lips curved into a wicked grin as she considered how to phrase it.

"Say..." She shifted in her chair, causing Bach to readjust his position with an annoyed chirp. "I don't suppose you could make it so that the… er… ding-a-lings of all rapists would fall off? Or at least stop working?"

Kieran's mobile eyebrow shot upward, his stern features registering surprise. "Ding-a-lings?"

Mandy's lips quivered with barely suppressed amusement. "Hey, I'm an old lady, and this is mixed company. I'm minding my language."

Mozart paused in his attack on Kieran's robes to give her what could only be described as a judgmental look.

She couldn't be sure, but she thought she caught a flicker of amusement in Kieran's silvery-blue eyes, despite his pained expression.

Kieran's stern features softened slightly, though his silvery-blue eyes remained serious. "I apologize, but even with Wish magic, that would be beyond my capabilities."

"Well, hell." Mandy slumped back in her chair. She'd known it was probably too much to ask, but still. The idea had merit.

If something as specific as making all rapists impotent was beyond a Djinn's power, then clearly the really big wishes were off the table too. No solving world hunger or achieving world peace with a single wish. If Djinn could make such sweeping changes to the world, wouldn't they have done so already? Surely in three thousand years, someone must have tried to wish for an end to war or disease or poverty.

"So I'm guessing anything involving massive worldwide changes is out?" She couldn't quite keep the disappointment from her voice.

The corner of Kieran's mouth twitched upward slightly. "Indeed. Wish magic, while powerful, has its limitations. The more people or things a wish would affect, the more difficult - or impossible - it becomes to grant."

Mandy nodded as she processed this new information. It made sense, really. Magic or not, nothing was truly unlimited. Even in her novels, she had to establish rules and limitations for any magical systems she created. Otherwise, the story fell apart.

She pondered other possibilities. Wishing for money was a possibility, naturally. Even though it felt kind of crass to her. And anyway, she felt content with her current means and simple way of life. What purpose would substantial wealth serve? Managing a big house wasn't feasible for her. Though having household help - someone to clean and prepare meals - would free up time for her writing.

But she could travel! Except… yeah, no. Extravagant travel plans like a tour of the Carpathian mountains - a place she'd always wanted to see - or a steamboat trip down the Mississippi to New Orleans - they all seemed futile when a short trek to collect her mail left her winded.

Designer attire? Precious gems? Those held little appeal since she rarely ventured out. And that was never her style, anyway, not even when she'd been young, slender, and halfway pretty. Besides, she loved her existing collection of jewelry. It wasn't extensive, but each piece was carefully chosen and loved. She didn't really need or want any more. Not that the occasional addition to her jewelry box wasn't welcome, but she certainly didn't need a fortune for that.

Her lips curved, though, as she considered some of the other options money would give her. She could support charities, and donate, and stuff like that. She liked that idea, too.

Oh! Didn’t some millionaire used to go around leaving random gifts of money? Was that Howard Hughs, maybe? She could totally get behind that… carrying hundred dollar bills around with her and spontaneously gifting huge tips to waiters and waitresses, busboys, taxi drivers, rideshare drivers.

Maybe she could even take a road trip, since driving wasn’t ever a problem for her, even with her bad back. Cross-country, maybe, and find people along the way to shower money on. Anonymously, of course. She’d have to figure out a way to -

The sound of a throat clearing brought her attention back to the Djinn watching her. His silvery-blue eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and something unreadable.

"Oh." She blushed, heat creeping up her neck to her cheeks, remembering suddenly he could read her thoughts. Her mind raced, trying to recall everything she'd been thinking. "Sorry, I let my imagination get away with me."

He did the eyebrow thing again, one perfect black brow arching up in a way which shouldn't have been so elegant, and she bit back a giggle. Yep, she was definitely getting giddy. If she could have, she would have leaped off the sofa and jumped for joy, spun and twirled and danced around the apartment like a teenager, and screamed to the world from her balcony. Her cats would think she'd lost her mind, but who cared? They could come on the road trip with her!

"About that…" His dry tone broke in on her sudden euphoria, and she dragged her thoughts back into order. The last thing she wanted was to mess up whatever magic had brought him into her life.

"I understand," she reassured him. "It's a secret. I'm not really going to go yelling from the rooftops that Djinn exist… that magic exists." She held his gaze, hoping he'd see that she grasped the gravity of the situation despite her thoughts going off into crazy places.

His penetrating gaze lingered on her features, making her throat constrict with nervousness. She nearly gave in to the urge to squirm under his scrutiny when he finally inclined his head.

"I trust your word."

She regarded him, thinking over what he'd told her so far. The more he spoke with her, the easier it became to believe what was happening, to accept it as truth rather than fantasy. His presence carried such gravitas, such solid reality, she couldn't deny the evidence of her own senses. She told him so, her fingers absently stroking Bach's fur where he lounged beside her.

"Could you kind of... keep telling me more?" she asked hesitantly. "It makes it more real for me, and less like this is some kind of hallucination, or a daydream that got out of hand or... or something." She paused, considering the fairy tales and stories she'd grown up with. "So, there are rules. Can you explain more?"

Kieran nodded, his features growing grave. "Good intent is not enough. You mentioned that movie, the Disney one," and his mouth twisted in distaste. "The rules there are indeed correct in essence. First and foremost, bringing back the deceased would be considered evil, regardless of intent. The ramifications extend much deeper than what's apparent on the surface."

"Right." Mandy nodded at him. "Dead is dead."

"Exactly. And when it comes to matters of the heart, it's also a concern. We Djinn have strict rules against tampering with anyone's freedom of choice."

"What about protection from someone dangerous? A stalker, maybe?" Mandy asked. "How could you stop them without restricting their free will?"

"That's actually quite manageable," Kieran explained, his tone shifting to something almost professorial. "We could make you completely undetectable to them - they wouldn't see you, your home, or even find traces of you online. Or, if the threat was more serious, events could be arranged to ensure their capture - perhaps through a crucial piece of evidence coming to light, or a witness stepping forward."

"Wow." Mandy shook her head, impressed. "That's both clever and thorough. Talk about a magical restraining order! It's just…" she pondered the explanation, her brow furrowed as she tried to grasp the concept. "How is that even possible?”

His shoulders lifted dismissively. "It's magic," he said, as if that explained everything. Which, when she thought about it, she guessed it kind of did.

She frowned, as a new question made itself known.

"What about something like Oprah discovering my books?" Mandy leaned forward, her earlier hesitation forgotten. "I mean, I know she'd love them if she just read them. But how could you arrange that without compromising her free will?"

Kieran's expression turned thoughtful, those silvery-blue eyes distant. "It could be arranged... perhaps during air travel. Your book appears in her seat pocket just as her own reading material suffers an unfortunate beverage accident. A subtle enchantment draws her attention to your novel..."

"That's amazing. And kind of devious." Mandy's lips twitched. "I like it."

He laughed outright at her response, his head tipped back, his teeth gleaming white against his tan skin. The rich, melodious sound filled her living room. "We are Djinn. It is our nature to find mischief." His silver-blue eyes sparkled with centuries of practiced cunning.

Heat crept up her neck as she realized she was staring. She couldn't help it - the change in him was remarkable. Gone was the intimidating Djinn who had appeared in her living room demanding answers. In his place sat someone approachable, magnetic even. The stern mask had cracked, revealing glimpses of a personality as complex as the magic he wielded.

Her heart skipped a beat as those silvery-blue eyes met hers, still dancing with amusement. The intensity of his gaze sent a flutter through her stomach that had nothing to do with anxiety this time. How had she not noticed before just how handsome he was? The strong line of his jaw, the elegant arch of those black brows against his tan skin, the way his presence seemed to draw her in like a magnet...

Mandy forced her gaze down to her teacup, her cheeks burning. What was she thinking? He was an ancient, powerful being who had walked the earth for millennia. And she was... well, she was just herself. An overweight, elderly lady who needed a cane to walk, lived with two demanding cats, and wrote books.

Speaking of cats, Mozart chose that moment to make another playful swipe at Kieran's robes, providing a welcome distraction from her wayward thoughts. She watched his antics, grateful for the distraction from her confusing thoughts. The orange tabby had managed to catch a fold of the shimmering fabric between his paws, his green eyes wide with feline triumph.

"Speaking of mischief makers," she said, gesturing toward Mozart with her teacup, "that reminds me of something else I was wondering about the wishes." She paused, organizing her thoughts. "I assume the Djinn have some way to handle large sums of money appearing in someone's life without triggering investigations? I mean, if someone suddenly came into millions of dollars, wouldn't that raise red flags with the FBI or SEC?"

Kieran gently extracted his robe from Mozart's grasp, those silvery-blue eyes warming with amusement as the cat stalked off in a dudgeon. "Indeed. As you might imagine, we have extensive experience in such matters. Any wealth that manifests through wishes comes with a complete paper trail and legitimate source."

"So no Men in Black showing up at my door demanding to know where mystery money came from?" The mental image made her smile - she'd always loved those movies.

"No." His deep voice carried absolute certainty. "Whether through inheritance, investment returns, lottery winnings, or other means, the wealth would appear completely legitimate to any investigation. The documentation would be flawless, the timing natural, and all legal requirements, including taxes, satisfied."

Mandy nodded, impressed by the thoroughness. Of course ancient magical beings would have systems in place for this sort of thing. They'd had millennia to perfect their methods.

"That's actually really clever," she said. "I mean, even taxes. I hadn't thought about all the complications that could come from sudden wealth in modern times. Bank accounts, taxes, legal documentation..."

"The world has grown more complex," Kieran agreed, "but Djinn magic has adapted accordingly. We ensure our Wish Bearers' gifts don't create problems for the recipients. That would rather undermine the whole point, after all."

Mandy nodded and fell silent, sipping her tea. The spiced warmth spread through her chest as she watched Kieran's silvery-blue gaze travel around her living room, taking in the overflowing bookshelves, the cat trees positioned by the windows, and the park visible across the street. His presence filled her small space, yet somehow didn't feel intrusive anymore.

The afternoon sunlight streaming into her living room caught his silvery hair, creating that ethereal halo effect again. His stern features had softened into contemplation as he studied her surroundings. What did an ancient being think about modern apartments? Did he find her small space charming or chaotic? She pushed the questions aside, not wanting to interrupt whatever deep Djinn thoughts occupied his mind.

"Your questions are unusually thorough," Kieran's deep voice broke the comfortable silence. "Most of those granted wishes simply state their desires without considering the broader implications."

Heat crept up Mandy's neck at his observation. She set her glass down carefully. "My brain tends to generate contingency plans for my contingency plans. It's ADHD - makes me a decent writer, great for plotting complex storylines. Not so great for sleeping at night." She gestured vaguely at her head. "It's always busy in here. My brain sees loopholes everywhere, all the potential ways things could go wrong. I can't help analyzing every angle, every possibility."

"Take something basic like wishing not to hurt anymore - my mind starts dissecting it instantly. Would I actually still be hurting, but simply not feel it? That would mean I might miss important warning signs from my body, and I'd overlook crucial symptoms. Do I stop taking my nerve reliever medication because the pain is gone? Conversely, what if I still took them even though my pain was gone, on the basis that the physiological cause is still there, but it wasn't?"

Mandy gestured with one hand, shaking her head. "My thoughts spiral out of control, generating a… a spider web of endless possibilities until even the most straightforward desire turns into this massive, tangled mess."

Kieran's silvery-blue eyes fixed on her with that unnerving intensity that made her feel like he could see straight through to her soul.

"You fear making a mistake in the wording of your wishes." His deep voice filled her small living room, the simple statement cutting straight to the heart of her anxiety.

"Yes." A surge of relief went through Mandy as he indicated that he understood. "My brain won't stop showing me all the ways it could go wrong. It's not only the Monkey's Paw thing, either. It's like..." She searched for the right words to explain the chaos in her head. "Remember the story of King Midas? He wished for everything he touched to turn to gold, but didn't specify exceptions. He couldn't eat, couldn't drink, and when he hugged his daughter..." She shuddered. "That's what my brain does. It shows me every possible way my words could be twisted or misinterpreted, every potential consequence I might not have considered."

Kieran leaned forward, those silvery-blue eyes softening as they met Mandy's worried gaze.

"Let me explain something to you, that may set your mind at ease." His deep voice gentled, losing its earlier stern edge. "The purpose of a Wish Bearer is to manifest the true desires of those we serve. We are not tricksters seeking to twist words or corrupt intentions."

"In fact," he continued, "the more precise and detailed your wishes, the better I can shape the magic to achieve exactly what you desire." His lips curved slightly. "If you wish to present me with specifications worthy of a Scandinavian architect, I would consider it a gift. Such clarity makes the crafting of Wish magic both easier and more satisfying."

“Crafting the magic.” Mandy smiled suddenly, her heart warming. “That sounds so wonderful, special.”

“It can be.” He paused, tilting his head as he watched her. "What is your first wish?"

Mandy gulped.

“I… could I have a little more time?” she asked him, glancing up briefly to meet his gaze. “This is so huge, I can still barely even wrap my head around it.”

“I understand.” He rose to his feet, and he indicated the necklace she wore. "You know how to call me when you are ready."