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Chapter 14

The Life of a Fish

~DOLLY~

This motel room is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

It has an open floor plan with a lofty, cave-like ceiling. A massive bed sits on an elevated platform, accessible by a spiral of rugged stairs. A crescent-shaped waterfall cascades through the grotto, dividing the living area from a luminous blue pool on the other side, glowing with coral and darting sprites. Similar glowing water trickles down the cave’s rocky walls.

“Arrik, what kind of motel is this?” I ask again.

He pulls the door closed behind us. “A remote and random one.”

I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. This may qualify as an underground lagoon.

The ground is laid with stone, and the light on the walls diffuses in sunset colors from the coral scattered around the cavern. I slip off my moist sneakers and set down my bag beside the door, already triple-locked by Arrik. There’s no television, but there’s a strange brass contraption on wheels near one wall, where Arrik sets his Ray like it’s common practice. Then he approaches a matching brass control panel on the wall and wraps his hand around what looks like a beer tap. Without him moving the handle, the coral around us shifts from a sunburst palette to a mixture of emerald hues. Seconds later, the floor noticeably warms.

“Neurocontrolled ambiance panel,” he grunts. “Let me know if you get cold. The cleansing room is this way.”

I scoop up my bag and follow him. The air is light and has movement—there must be a natural vent or some magic at play because I can’t imagine an underground cavern should feel this fresh. The décor is sparse, with only a few intentional pieces scattered around, but all of it has that aquatic kitsch vibe: a coffee table crafted entirely of colored pearls; a set of armchairs with tentacles for footrests and backing; a mermaid-tail chaise decorated with shiny scales.

One of my newer favorite things is checking out how various worlds and races do their bathrooms. Here, the bathroom is tucked away in a private area within a spiral of rock, which blocks the shower from view from the main part of the cavern. Arrik leaves me at the entrance like he’s dropping me off at a corn maze.

“Is there no toilet?” I call out when I reach the center.

“No. You won’t have the need for it. The magic here keeps your body in a kind of stasis. Similar to what’s over our vessels. It’s all part of the relaxation. People don’t usually shit on holiday.”

“What about hunger?”

“Optional.”

Huh. I’ve learned a lot on this vacation. And knowing Velis, I’d bet anything he added the toilet to our rental just to keep things feeling normal for me.

There’s a gaudy—yet awesome—swan-shaped sink and an equally awesome—yet gaudy—cream-green vanity built right into the rock. The shower water cascades from the rocks above, seemingly random yet perfectly placed.

If not a lagoon, then maybe a natural splash pad.

A bracket-edged mirror hangs on a pillar near the shower. Definitely enchanted. It’s showing me a flawless version of myself, and I don’t know what the point of it is, but I actually hate it. Please go away .

“There should be an ambiance panel in there too. It’s configured for most races. Think about what you want and see if it works for you,” Arrik tosses over the open ceiling as I ‘Igor’ myself away.

I find the handle he mentioned and wrap my grip around it like I saw him do.

It works.

My hand heats around the handle, and the mirror flickers to life, scrolling through filter-like settings like I’m flipping through channels on an old TV, before turning off completely. I place my belongings on the long vanity, which is stocked with cotton swabs, cotton balls, and cotton pads. Everything is open but safely out of reach of the mist and spray from the shower. There’s even a brass fragrance knob that changes the scent released into the air and a thick foam soap that’s expelled from various pumps.

Well, this is about to be the longest shower I’ve ever taken.

The water hits my shoulders, and I slip into autopilot, standing there like I’m high while the water pelts the same section of my neck over and over.

I lose track of time as the water pours down.

Arrik doesn’t interrupt.

. . .

I hope Vel’s okay.

. . .

Am I in shock, maybe?

. . .

I wonder what Arrik told me on that balcony. I’m afraid to know.

Yet now that he’s here, and for reasons unknown, I feel the weight of it all pressing down on me, like something knocking at the door of my mind. When I think back to our first moments together... they were intense. Were they magically charged? Like they were with Velis?

And magic or not, what does it say about me that I’m still thinking about that genie in the other room when my husband is out negotiating with angel terrorists?!

I mutter a curse and turn off the water, acknowledging that I need to pull myself together and get through this night so we can visit Mayree.

I wrap myself in an extra-fluffy bath blanket, bypassing the sheer robe the motel has supplied in favor of a T-shirt and shorts from my bag. My hair’s getting longer now. I brush out the tangles and stand under a spout blowing warm air. A few seconds beneath it, and my hair is dry—fluffier and shinier than it’s ever been.

I brush my teeth.

I put on no makeup.

I collect my dirty laundry and toss it into a bin that I figure may just be a bin OR may magically wash my garments. Just a bin. I retrieve them again, toss them into my bag, and remove myself from the accumulated steam that’s slowly dissipating into the rest of the cavern.

Arrik sits on a hanging countertop, now in joggers and a white T-shirt that looks crisp against the dark lines of his body, with one bare foot rested on his opposite knee, a stack of takeout boxes at his hip, and a plate of food in his lap. And rubbing up against him is—

“Steve!” I gasp.

The orange replica tabby Arrik once created for me—and apparently kept?

“What’s going on with his tail?” I ask, making my way over to them. “Is it turning blue?”

“Ignore it. I’m planning to rehome him when I get back to the mortal world.” Arrik shoves Steve behind his back, and the copycat reappears on the upstairs bed before I can get a closer look.

Weird.

“Any word from Velis?”

“They messed with the wrong family,” he says, cutting into whatever’s on his plate with his fork. “Djinn nobles are more common than djinn lairds. And Father is high in station among his peers. They’re trying to pay us off to retract the allegations. We’ll see if Vel’s political loyalties can be bought.”

I pause. “So, he’s okay?”

Arrik takes a moment, like he’s genuinely surprised. “ Yes . As we assured you he would be. I’d tell you if he were in real danger,” he scolds me with a touch of that bully roughness that comes so naturally to him.

“What kind of food is that?”

“It’s a pie with poultry and root vegetables.”

“Like a chicken pot pie?”

“ Pot pie?” He raises an eyebrow, like I’ve just said something absurd. “Never heard of that.”

“Sometimes I find it hard to believe you spent six years in the human world.”

“Have you considered I only spent a fraction of that time in cultures similar to your own?”

I hadn’t actually thought of that at all, and it does explain some gaps in knowledge.

“My bad,” I say, settling into a squid-footed chair next to him.

“I’m giving you shit. You’re doing fine for a human who just found out djinn exist a few weeks ago.”

By ‘pie,’ he means a sloppy deep-dish ‘pizza’ with blue sauce instead of red. Somehow, that one difference makes it instantly unappealing, despite the savory scent.

“Without meaning any cultural offense, please tell me if there’s anything I’d consider freaky in this pizza,” I ask as he nudges one of the boxes at me.

He licks his fork. “Not in yours .”

I open the lid to a rush of heat and find a replica of my favorite childhood pizza from a place that closed down before my dad died. I immediately close it and hand it back.

“You can’t afford this.”

He opens his palm to reveal a small cup of ranch. “You don’t know my finances.”

I reluctantly thank him, feeling especially guilty because I’m not even hungry after pigging out at that buffet—but when the first hit of salty, soggy pizza touches my tongue, I realize I’m much, much hungrier than I thought. And that the taste of childhood pizza is more comforting than anything I could have expected.

Mother-hen Arrik always seems to know best.

“Your consumable is over there.”

By consumable, he means pop. The tab hisses as I release it.

“What is that thing?” I motion to a film of projected light being cast onto the wall from his Ray, propped up in the holsters.

“It’s like hooking your phone up to a monitor,” he says, flicking his hand as if changing screens, though to my human vision, nothing seems to change.

“And that?” I say, pointing to a fluff of white hovering in the corner.

“Cloud lounger.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“I have to try it.”

He waves at me to give his permission, continuing to eat pizza-adjacent food from a plate balanced on his knee while flipping through his Ray like he’s doom-scrolling. I sink into the cloud chair, finding it lumpier than expected, then move up the steps to the loft to check out the sleeping quarters. No bedbugs in sight. I should have waited to forfeit the bed until I felt it, but after seeing how many couples we passed on our way here, I’m probably safer in the bottle.

“Honestly, I don’t give two shits,” Arrik says from below. “I’ll shower after. I’m exhausted.”

“I know. I can practically feel it on you,” I joke, reaching for Steve but pausing when Arrik’s tone shifts.

“What do you mean?” His response is a little more serious than I expected .

I consider it for a moment. “I don’t know. You just look really tired.”

He narrows his eyes at me, and I’m not totally sure why.

I pick up Steve, who now has a blue-tipped tail and ears, and carry him back down with me. For now, we’ve agreed not to talk about what Arrik’s presence here could mean, but there’s something adjacent I’m too curious about to leave alone.

“Any theories on who this stranger who’s been visiting me could be? He... handed me your bottle when my eyes were closed.”

“Let me encounter him once before I form any theories.” Arrik ends the conversation there, finishing his pizza and grabbing a second box. He pauses before opening it, realizing, I think, that in his attempt to keep me safe through cool distance, he’s only making me feel more isolated—and I’m actually kind of in a fragile, freaked-out state.

He takes a moment to really look at me.

I saw it when I was flipping through options on the mirror. The real me. How tired my skin looks, the shiny sadness in my eyes. He sets aside the pizza, licks his thumb clean, and drops off the hanging countertop. “I don’t know about you, sweetheart, but I don’t let fate or anyone else dictate my decisions. You know my theory is a defective bottle, and if it isn’t, we can talk about how your fate is your own, and so is mine, and so is my nuisance brother’s. But let’s not jump to any conclusions until we consult a few specialists.”

His confidence is as reassuring as ever, his hand on my shoulder steady.

“You should try to sleep, DJ. Velis is fine, and every time I message him, he sounds more pissed off. Are you sure you don’t want the bed?”

“No, but can I bring this in with me?” I motion to a thick pad meant for floor-sitting that rests before a heater and could make an okay mattress base.

“Tuck it under your shirt,” Arrik says .

I wait to see if he’s kidding—then slowly slide it under my shirt. He lets out a quiet snigger, then uses that hand on my shoulder to pull me into his bottle with him.

It’s Vel’s old bottle, so I’ve been in here before. A blue lantern hangs from the ceiling. The bookshelf is much neater. And there’s a small tank with a mini-collection of sprites to help him sleep. I knew it!

Last time I was in here, it smelled like Velis.

Now, it distinctly smells like Arrik.

Arrik takes the pad from me and rolls it out, then builds me a makeshift nest of pillows and blankets like he’s my babysitter. I recall how he conjured sleeping bags for everyone the night of our sleepover. So secretly nice to his frenemies.

“Do you like this vessel?” I ask as he works.

“This is my fourth. I damaged two others. They’re all the same.”

There’s a small table, low to the ground. A dresser. Some random clutter Arrik sets about collecting.

I drop my overnight bag onto the ground beside the bed he’s made me, then slip off my slides. When I turn around, he’s just standing there.

My eyebrows request elaboration.

“I just realized you’re in here.” That’s all he says before busying himself with gathering a few pieces of laundry from the floor. “Do you need anything?”

“How to turn off the light?”

By the look on his face, it’s an oversight. He stares at said light for a solution. “Here—” He reaches for my hand and brushes his lips across my fingers without a second thought because that’s how magic works. “Snap to extinguish or ignite the lantern. Call for me if you need anything. Get some sleep. Our new laird is fine.”

I make for the nest. “Goodnight, Arrik. Thanks for doing this. I know when you left before, you said you were done with us for good. ”

“You didn’t give me much of a choice.”

I catch his eye, and there’s a glint of amusement.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” Then he’s gone.

I bury myself in piles of blankets that have shielded both Reilhander brothers, drawing the warm egg Velis gave me that night in the garden out of my pocket and slipping it under my pillow, feeling strange, feeling uncertain, feeling...

If I am in love with Velis—which I am.

If I am happy with Velis—which I am.

If I am committed to Velis—which I am.

Then why is there this simmering tension?

“ Sweetheart? ” Arrik’s whisper hits my mind sometime after the lantern has been snuffed out. “ My brother checked in. Everything’s still okay. We both want you to sleep. ”

“Thank you, Arrik,” I mumble drowsily. “Thank you for helping us.”

He’s quiet. “ I wish I could say I always will .”

I’m quiet. But I’m sure he can hear me breathing.

“ Sometime has to be the last time, DJ. ”

That’s why. That’s why there’s this mounting tension. Because spending time with him inevitably means growing closer. And we can’t grow any closer. It hurts.

“ Sweetheart. ” Arrik’s voice is in my hair, but I’m not sure if it’s real or a dream. I’m stuck inside my sleeping body.

That probably means it’s a dream .

“Sweetheart,” I mumble.

“ ...Well, you don’t seem sad, though you have been crying. ”

It’s because I feel evil, though I’m trying so hard not to be. Velis deserves my devotion. But Arrik deserves love too, and for some reason, no one has given it to him. It’s getting harder and harder to be around him without wanting to give it myself.

And what does that make me?

I started this whole thing as a cheater, and now it’s come full circle. Maybe some people are destined to cause others pain.

“ Stop it. We both knew you were a risk. We couldn’t stop ourselves either. ”

Stop themselves from what?

“ Jesus Christ, even in your sleep, you deny. ”

I have to. I don’t want to hurt him. Or Velis. Or me. Or anyone.

“ I know. Mother hen knows best. I have a plan, to give you what your heart desires. I’m only going to be able to pull it off if you keep that denial denying. Can you do that for me? ”

I can.

And even though I don’t fully know what I’m agreeing to, it makes me feel lonely.

I don’t know what he’s done, but I suddenly feel warmer, like the very air holds an essence of comfort. There’s no one touching me, but the blankets feel sensitive on my skin.

“ Is that better? ”

It is.

“ Everything will be okay, Master. You won’t even have to know. This time, Velis will carry the burden for us all. ”

I still don’t understand what he’s talking about, but that’s how dreams do, don’t they?

I curl into the pillows around me, and now that I’m deeper, I smell Velis too. Both scents intermingle with mine, and with each breath in and out, it’s like the vessel too is breathing. I match the rhythm until my dreams turn black.