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Chapter 26

My Beating Heart

~DOLLY~

The Minutes Leading Up to Velis and Beckham’s Arrival

I blink. Blink. Blink.

The light of a hot, magical sunset blasts through a gap in unfamiliar sheer curtains draped over a floor-to-ceiling window. It’s definitely magical. The Makayen sun feels unlike any I’ve experienced before.

Either I’m dreaming, or I’m back in the djinn realm.

My sight readjusts to a room with high ceilings. It’s one of those places you see on reality TV shows about terrible people living glamorous lives. The walls are stark white, the orange of the sunset washing everything in a warm glow.

I’m having trouble remembering how I got here.

I turn my head and find a familiar high-boned face with a soul-searching gaze that makes my stomach clench like an orange being squeezed. “Arrik?”

“Tch! Don’t confuse me for that lecher.”

My mistake. They’re cut from the same mold, but the two are anything but alike. Ear gauges. A nose hoop. That swept-back hair. And the saltiest, deadliest frown across a face that looks overdue for its next kill .

My brain is foggy as I scramble up off the floor. My body regrets it and collapses immediately. Whatever happened to me, it feels like I bounced down a cliff. This bastard probably had something to do with it. I am so over getting kidnapped!

“ Jeb ,” I snarl.

The youngest triplet stands over me in dark denim jeans and a colorful tank top at the edge of a small sitting area, his nails painted white and his arms folded. Meanwhile, I’m in pajamas, sprawled in front of a peach camelback couch in the middle of what looks like a fancy penthouse suite, where the walls are mostly windows, and the accent colors are deep burgundy and rich-person blue. The floor is covered in extremely thick carpet. This place looks like something out of a magazine for people who can afford thousand-dollar end tables.

“What happened?” I demand, searching through the fog in my memory for the last few minutes and hours. We went to that carnival. I lay down because I wasn’t feeling well. And then I vaguely remember being in the water with—

“Arrik!”

“Shhh!” Jeb drops to my level and leans in, threateningly enough for my instincts to kick in and my blood to hammer. “Do you think I want my neighbors to know I’m harboring a human? He’s right there, stupid.”

I swivel my neck to find Arrik on my other side, also haphazardly strewn on the ground. His eyes are closed, his head turned away. “Arrik? Arrik!” I pat him, shake him, turn his face over in my hand, and brush the hair from his brow. He’s breathing. But he isn’t waking. Like a cornered animal, I lean across him protectively, spitting over my shoulder. “ What did you do to him, Jeb ?”

“Excuse me?” he hisses, slapping my hand away from Arrik’s cheek. “I did nothing to him. You two just showed up here, soaking wet and ruining my carpet.”

His carpet?

Jeb just wants this all wrapped up so that he can go back to his life in the city.

From the ground, I reach for the corner of a curtain—acknowledging that this neat, bougie apartment feels like the perfect setting for someone as cold and stuck-up as Jeb—and uncover a familiar yet strange view. It’s a stacked city of glittering white buildings shimmering under the sun, with narrow staircases winding through alleys draped in pink flowers, and every spire adorned with matching flags whipping in the wind.

“This is one of the Uppers,” I realize before throwing my attention back to Jeb. “We’re in your apartment?!”

I glance back at unconscious Arrik.

And I remember.

That dream.

A reverie unlike any before.

Fuck.

It’s not really a secret, is it, Dolly Jones? Maybe an open secret.

Go away.

Jeb narrows his ghost-blue eyes. “Why are you here, Dolly Jones?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, shoving away the lingering tension from a very wet dream, still trying to piece together the last missing minutes in my mind. “I got sick, and then we ended up here. I don’t know what happened to Arrik.”

Jeb’s stony expression doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t believe me.

At least I know none of this was his doing. Arrik may continually vouch for him, but that doesn’t change the fact that the last time I saw him, he was trying to hand me over to mommy dearest. I shouldn’t rule out the possibility that he may be to Arrik what Beckham was to Velis, and that whatever this is, it’s some evil scheme to usurp Velis.

Wherever the exit is, it’s blocked from view by a large partition the couch is backed up against, framing a breathtaking view of the Makayen sun sinking—or maybe rising?—over the horizon. Jeb stands silently, analyzing my every movement. “You’d be doing me a favor,” he says quietly as I map out his floor plan. He looks like he’s eager to deadbolt the door behind me .

There is no alternative. What kind of help could a stray human find on the streets of a ritzy djinn city? I’m stuck in this incredibly awkward moment with my unofficial brother-in-law until Arrik wakes up.

That scary-ass glare bakes into me an uncomfortably long time as he considers his next move. Then, with a huff of irritation, he marches to the velvet-cushioned armchair in the corner of the sitting area and gives it a hearty kick. “Sit down.”

Um, why ?

He rolls his eyes at my hesitation. “I’m going to read your soul to see what kind of magic sent you here so I can shrink you, stick you in a box, and send you back. And every time I’m made to answer a stupid question, I’m removing one of your air holes.”

At least he’s considering the fact that I need to breathe.

“Do I... have to sit on your lap for it?”

His drilling stare drills harder. “ There goes another one .”

I wonder how many air holes I have left.

His response is like two plops of ice into a glass of already cold water. “Enough. Questions.”

Plunk . Plunk .

I give downed Arrik a look of hesitation, feeling his hollowed cheek to ensure it remains warm, taking comfort in the steady rise and fall of his chest. Then I make my way off the floor and to Jeb like I’m about to pet a bear, feeling his dislike for me with every step against this heaven-soft carpet. It may count as cowering, as I sink into the chair.

Jeb begins to pump his foot, though there’s no pedal, yet the chair reacts like one at a hair stylist. Pump. Pump. Pump.

Now we’re at eye level. And this is the closest I’ve ever been to him.

His scowl intensifies. “You’re going to need to relax if you want me to pierce your veil.”

Okay, but he’s staring directly into my eyes. And maybe it’s because he’s technically the spider and I’m technically the fly, but every instinct thundering through me screams to knee him in the dick and run away.

He releases an exasperated sigh through tight teeth before straightening. “Non-djinn are so insufferable and sensitive.” His palm begins to glow hot-coal orange. Must not be hot-coal hot, though. He brings it to his face like he’s putting on an invisible mask. The light from his hand seems to sink into his skin, illuminating his teeth and skull through his cheek as it absorbs.

After, he looks . . . different.

The exact same.

But different.

“What?” he says, appearing slightly disgusted and a little perplexed by the way I’m staring at him.

“You look like Arrik,” I blurt.

“We’re triplets,” he says like I’m a moron.

“ Obviously , I know that. It just never really resonated before. Your features are... clearer right now.” I recognize that structured jaw and crafted lips. “What did you do?”

“I muted my magic so that you could stand to look at me. Now stop gaping and sit still.”

He grabs the arms of the chair and jerks me forward.

“What kind of magic?” I ask.

He ignores me, looking like he’ll be glad to seal up my final airhole. “Don’t breathe on me.” His ear rests against my chest while one hand circles around my back, keeping me in place as he listens to my soul.

Well, now I’ve seen everything.

He smells fancy. And clean. Like luxury men’s lotion. From this angle, it really does look like Arrik is the one nuzzling me.

Protect your boobies.

Jeb’s entire presence stiffens the moment I think it, and he rages, “ What was that ?”

“What?”

“Why is your pulse speeding in excitement ?”

“It’s not.”

“I can hear it. And feel it.” He shoots himself away from my chest as if coming to a horrific revelation. “I’m not attracted to humans. Nor women.”

Oh. My. GOD.

The chair deflates back down to the ground. “I know that! It’s not about YOU. It’s my unnatural bond history with Arrik. It messes with my... blood.”

Jeb frowns at me like I’ve just said something asinine. He snatches my chin, lifting his own while cocking his brow in a way that makes him look very much like tattoo-less Arrik, down to those teeth peeking through softly parted lips.

Fuck.

“Hmph.” Jeb throws my face to the side. “I wonder if the new ‘laird’ knows you’re in love with our brother.”

The chair makes an ugly squeak against the floor as I push myself away from him, the implication hitting a little harder than it should. “I’m not in love with Arrik, Jeb. I’m married to Velis.”

Oops. But that’s kind of a secret right now, I guess.

Jeb looks at me like I just admitted to being a secret nymph spy, the ridiculousness of it all manifesting in the form of a sneer. “Of course you are.” He curls his fingers to telekinetically snap my chair back into its lifted position. “I am not my brother. I will consider it perverse if I feel your attraction to my body. Now, hold still before I change my mind.”

He’s right. I’m drawing this out longer than it needs to be.

I calm my body and wait for Jeb to finish reading my soul, only now realizing that if we woke up on his floor wet, he must have been the one to dry us off. Surprisingly considerate.

I’m also now realizing that at some point, my body stopped aching.

He didn’t . . .

Did he heal me?

Jeb is quiet, stiff, as if listening for a deer in the woods. Then, abruptly, he shoves himself off me, his expression shifting to something more suspicious, like he’s viewing this whole situation in a different light. “You’re telling the truth.”

“Yes, I am telling the truth! What is it? What did you feel?”

“A safe haven spell. A final line of defense. But it’s stale. Placed two, maybe three weeks ago.”

“A safe haven spell? Who would have placed something like that? To send me here?”

“Who do you think?”

A final line of defense. Placed two, maybe three weeks ago.

Should I get incapacitated and my protection spell on you fail, that was Plan C. There is a Plan D, but you don’t want to know what it is.

Is this the ‘Plan D’ Arrik was referring to back in the nymph world?! After my tattoo was activated and Clifford was released, should all else fail, I would be transported to Jeb’s apartment ?

HOW IS THAT A SAFE FAILSAFE?

Wait. So, does that mean I actually would have died before this spell ripped me from time and space and sent me here? Arrik was in the room with me, and he actually allowed me to nearly die? The only way he would have let that happen is if he were unable to stop it.

Why would he be unable to stop it?

I snatch Jeb’s hand, which dangles unenthusiastically within snatching distance. “What if whatever it was followed us here? You need to put up a barrier!”

Jeb slaps my hand away for the second time, looking annoyed but, for a brief flash, troubled, as his gaze shifts to where Arrik has yet to stir. “I can’t. I’m still tethered to him ,” he says, and by ‘him,’ I assume he’s talking about Alex, his British master who made a series of wishes selflessly to save my soul from Beckham. “I can’t use upper-tier magic for anyone but my master. I’m not practiced enough to get around that restriction, and I’m under the compulsion of a wish. Your worry is foolish. This is likely all some game of Beckham’s. Have you considered the possibility that there’s more Arrik made you forget? ”

“Arrik wouldn’t do that.”

“He’s dumped you into situations lacking your memory before.”

Our time in the nexus with Beckham is a prime example. But that was before. He wouldn’t use me like that now.

As if he can hear me, there’s a groan from the floor. In a human-speed flash, I’m over the rousing form of a six-foot-something djinn.

“Arrik? Can you hear me? I think he’s waking, is there anything you can—”

In a much, much faster djinn-speed flash, Jeb is beside me, holding a small vial under Arrik’s nose.

They might be smelling salts. Arrik’s eyes rip open.

Time seems to stand still. He says nothing as the amber sun over us begins to lose to the night. He reaches for my cheek, his thumb grazing my chin in a way that makes me withdraw.

“Arrik?” I whisper, almost afraid to touch him, my breath shaky. “Are you okay? What happened to us in that lagoon?”

It’s like he’s seeing me for the first time, his gaze making intentional passes over every feature. Then, he brushes me off, leaning around me to sit up, taking in Jeb’s classy, high-end apartment. “It worked. Thank Maka.” His focus shifts to Jeb, who is looking deadly—though not as terrifying as usual.

“You lowered your stratum for her, Jeb?” Arrik observes. “ That’s interesting.”

With a glower, whatever Jeb did to ‘mute’ his magic is undone, and the youngest triplet reverts to looking like complete, unhinged rage is pulsing beneath his skin. “Explain yourself at once! How dare you drop a human into my—”

“Oh, save it.” Arrik waves him off. “It reeks of human in here already, and it isn’t my Master’s scent, is it, Jeb ?”

Jeb clamps his mouth shut.

Arrik stands, and I follow, waiting for an explanation as to how we got here. None is given before he saunters out of view and the sound of running water starts up from beyond the center wall separating Jeb’s parlor from the rest of the apartment, like he’s been here before and has no problem making himself at home.

Jeb folds his arms, shaking his head in impatience.

Arrik returns, handing me a goblet of cool water to soothe my sore throat.

“We were in the Arrowhead. Someone followed us. I believe they slipped something into your drink, and when I tried to teleport with you, we were blocked by another red barrier.”

I wait for more, finishing my water and handing off the goblet, which Arrik immediately sets off to refill in the kitchen.

“So?” Jeb presses, sounding like he’s been waiting in a bothersome line all day.

Arrik returns with the refilled goblet. “It was a doom poison, incurable by magical means. I placed a safe haven spell on her when she was first under my care.” His pale eyes meet mine, waiting for me to finish drinking before he adds, “They trigger the moment your heart stops.”

I cough into the glass. “You mean I died?”

“Momentarily.”

Someone poisoned me? And . . . a red barrier?

“Whoever has been interfering with our vacation, they actually attempted to murder me? This has got to be your family, right? I don’t need more groups of people out to kill me!”

Jeb’s stare is steady. “Doom poisons take days. First you lose your wits, then your body, and lastly, your pulse.”

Arrik shrugs. “She’s a human.”

Jeb says nothing.

Arrik says nothing.

Jeb says nothing.

Per usual, I’m confused.

“ Arrik ,” Jeb says through tight teeth, “ a word ?”

But before Arrik can agree to it, both genies perk up as if they’re hearing something I can’t. In a movement quick enough to startle my heart, Arrik has me behind him, serving again as a genie shield, as a mocking, singsong voice from elsewhere in the apartment calls:

“Oh, JEH-EBBBB— unph !”

Jeb flicks his eyes in the direction of the voice, which sounds like it’s just been abruptly muffled. Unmistakably, it’s the voice of the oldest, nastiest triplet.

“ Beckham ,” snarls Arrik. “You called him? Fucking traitor.”

“ I didn’t call him ,” Jeb spits back like they’re bickering in the back seat of a car. “I haven’t spoken with him in days. I have no idea why he’s here.”

As footsteps round the corner, Arrik places a hand on my shoulder, prepared to blip me away, but it’s unnecessary. I sense the approaching person’s presence before I ever see him, wearing those dipped brows and that compassionate, strained look that stole my heart, compelling me to run out of Arrik’s grip and into the panicked open arms of—

“Genie boy,” I whisper into his shirt as he catches me.

“Hey, Doll.” Velis holds me for a moment, and it feels like I’m being surrounded by the comfort of home. He rocks with me, melts to the ground with me, as over his shoulder, I take in the incredibly bizarre sight of Beckham farther down the hall, watching us like he’s trying to learn the art of hugging.

And he appears to be restrained in a chair.

What in the world is going on?