Page 21 of The Last Wish (Lost Legacy #1)

CHAPTER

TWENTY-ONE

SHEENA

C allum is right about one thing: we’re going to get this damn book open. He just won’t like my plan to make it happen.

As I sneak through the courtyard, it’s so dark I can barely see my shoes. The stone cobblestones are uneven beneath my feet, and I hear the decorative fountain gurgling and splashing to my right. I use the sound of rushing water to orient myself, irritated that I’m having to echo locate like a goddamn bat. Not everyone has perfect night vision. If they can afford a fountain, they should be able to invest in some outdoor lighting.

Two more reports of hunter attacks came in at dinner. So Gideon and Callum were pulled into a super secret meeting with their fathers, and Ciprian left town abruptly to deal with some sort of situation in Nevada. Their absence is why I find myself hustling across the courtyard alone, clutching the tiny purple and gold book to my chest like some kind of thief in the night.

They won’t want me to talk to the fae, especially alone, but every time Gideon and Callum are around him, the entire conversation devolves into veiled threats and passive aggressive dick measuring. I know neither of them trust Idris, and given my background, I can appreciate their suspicion. But like it or not, he has been the only one able to tell me anything concrete about my heritage.

The entrance to the fae wing looms in front of me. I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and step up to the threshold. A heinously bright LED floodlight switches on, and I stumble back as it sears my retinas.

“Shit,” I hiss, my heart pounding.

I blink through the spots dancing in front of my eyes and grip the door’s old-fashioned knocker firmly. It’s cool under my fingers, a copper pentagram coated in a thick patina courtesy of time and the elements.

Before I can second-guess myself, I lift the knocker and bring it down against the wood several times. The sound is surprisingly underwhelming. If the fae is more than ten feet away, there’s no way he will hear it. Just as I’m starting to think of a backup plan, the door swings open and reveals Idris. Dressed in sweatpants and a plain green t-shirt, I’ve never seen him look so casual.

“Oh good, you’re home,” I sputter.

“Little djinn.” Idris tilts his head slightly to the side. If he’s surprised to see me, he doesn’t say so. “Please, come in.”

He steps to the side to let me pass and closes the door behind me.

“Is everything alright?” Idris asks.

Is that concern flickering in his cool blue eyes?

“Yes, sorry. It’s just—I have this book.” I brandish the little tome as if that explains everything and immediately start rambling. “It won’t open. I’ve tried pulling hard and opening my eyes really wide. I also told it I was a djinn and that it was safe to open. Nothing happened, so I was wondering if you had any ideas.” I trail off, feeling like a complete idiot.

I’m relieved he doesn’t comment on my word vomit. Instead, Idris leads me to a sitting room that’s still in the middle of a major construction overhaul. A thin layer of sawdust blankets every surface. There’s a protective sheet spread across the couch, but it doesn’t help much.

Idris brushes some of the dust away. “I’m sorry everything is in such disarray. Please sit if you don’t mind the mess,” he says, gesturing to the couch.

I plop down with no hesitation, waving my hands around. “This is nothing.” I smile. “The last ten places I lived were smaller than this room, plus a little dust never hurt anyone.”

Idris cocks his head to the side, studying me like I’m some kind of oddity at the county fair.

“May I?” He holds his hand out for the book, and I hand it over.

When he attempts to open it, nothing happens. Even though I saw that coming, I’m disappointed. Determined not to run my mouth again like a fool, I sit quietly as he examines it from every angle. Idris runs his fingers along the golden clasp—his lips pursed in concentration—before assessing the back and spine.

With nothing else to occupy myself, I stare at his hands. They are pale and slender with long, tapered fingers—capable, demanding, and confident all at the same time.

What would they feel like on my skin?

Horrified, I banish that thought, realizing too late Idris has stopped perusing the book and is studying me just as closely.

“A curiosity,” he says. I desperately want to ask if he means the book or me. “Have you tried your blood?” Idris’ lips twitch. “Not all of your blood. Just a few drops, little djinn.”

My blood? I scrunch my face up. Right. I’m no longer part of the human world.

“Blood magic used to be quite common, but it’s fallen out of favor in recent years, especially here on Earth. I cannot imagine why.” Idris smiles widely, and the effect is almost as blinding as the light by the door.

“Did you just make a joke?” I demand, wincing at how rude I sound.

“Apparently, not a very good one,” he admits.

Idris rotates the book back to the front cover and holds it out to me, running his finger over a spot in the middle of the clasp where the color is darker.

“I would try putting a little of your blood here.” His fingers brush against mine during the transfer, and I can’t help my shudder. “The author of that book likely wanted to make sure it never fell into the wrong hands.”

His arm falls back to his side and I nod, unsettled by the sudden static energy swirling around the room. When I stand, Idris rises with me, letting me lead the way back out. The skin on my neck tingles; I feel him watching me.

“Thank you for your help,” I say when we reach the front door. “I’ll let you know if the blood works.”

I turn to face him and our eyes meet. Suddenly, I’m frozen by the intensity in his icy blue eyes as they search mine.

“You’re drained,” he says. It’s a statement, not a question. He’s giving my earlier bluntness a run for its money.

I can’t stand the idea of Idris thinking I’m weak, so I square my shoulders and lift my chin. “No, no, I’m fine.” I paste a fake smile on my face. “I had a long nap earlier, and I think I slept too long. It must have made me groggy.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Idris whispers. His voice is so painfully gentle I flinch. “Without your talisman, it’s only going to get worse.”

I don’t want to hear this.

“Wow, Idris.” I force a laugh. “You’re not winning any gold medals for optimism.” His soft expression doesn’t change at my obvious deflection.

“When humans talk of my kind, they often say we cannot tell a lie,” Idris murmurs, his eyes cataloging my face. “That’s rubbish, of course, but I’ve often wondered if there’s at least a little truth to it.”

He brings his hand up slowly, tracing the plane of my forehead with his thumb. The furrows I didn’t even feel myself making relax under his touch. A cool sensation moves through my head like a gentle breeze, and the throbbing headache I’ve been trying to ignore since this morning disappears. My body sags in relief.

“I’ve seen many people I care for fall in battle or to betrayal.” The mesmerizing lilt of Idris’ voice sinks into my skin and takes root there. His thumb ghosts over my lips, just a whisper of a touch, before falling away from me completely. “As we speak, my home realm is ravaged by lies and greed, so I’m sorry if I cannot give you optimism, little djinn. But please don’t mistake my truth as a desire to see you fail.”

He steps back, and the only sound penetrating the night is the distant fall of the fountain’s water. I have so many questions I want to ask, but I don’t dare. Not now, maybe not ever. The only thing I’m brave enough to ask for in this moment is his silence.

“Please, don’t tell them, Idris,” I whisper. He frowns. “For the longest time, terror was all I had. Gideon and Callum changed that for me, and I don’t want fear to be the only thing I leave behind for them to remember me by.”

For a long moment, he says nothing. The silence stretches so long that I give up. I’m pivoting to make my way out the door when his voice stops me in my tracks.

“I can numb your pain, but I cannot heal what’s causing it.” He sounds frustrated, but I can’t tell if it’s with the situation in general or me. “Come to me when it becomes too much.”

I nod, then yank the door open and hurry away. He didn’t make me any promises, but for some reason, I trust Idris to keep his mouth closed. The fae may not be able to pull me from the magical current dragging me under, but he can give me the strength I need to keep my head above water.

It will have to be enough.

When I get back to Gideon’s room, the guys are still gone. I take the opportunity to nick my finger with my razor. The blood wells up immediately, and I press it to the dark spot on the front of the book.

Nothing happens. I stare at it, frustrated.

I’m about to go to bed when the air around the book starts to blur. I squint as smoke curls up and out of the ancient pages.

Shit, is my blood flammable?

I drop the book on the table, and it flies open to the title page. Dark, golden ink glows across the weathered paper.

My heart pounds with adrenaline and triumph. Finally, something is going right.

GIDEON

Not a godsdamn thing is going right.

I massage my temples, sick of listening to my dad and Dimitri argue about the latest hunter attack.

The cultists ambushed a group of wolf shifters on a retreat. From what we can tell, it happened near the border between our enclave and the one to the south. Most of the casualties were practically kids, which is fucking sickening enough on its own, but the leader of the trip was also a good friend of dad’s. The hunters left his broken body in the woods, so my father is out for blood.

I’ll help him spill it when the time is right, but all this talking in circles isn’t getting us anywhere. At the end of the day, we still don’t have a clue how the hunters are getting this intel. With each new attack, it’s getting harder to argue against Sheena’s mole theory.

I glance at the clock on my phone’s lock screen and smother my impatience. My chest is throbbing, and I want nothing more than to crawl into bed beside Sheena and pass the fuck out.

Ever the respectful son, Callum is giving our fathers his full attention. At least on the surface. Beneath the table, his leg is bouncing up and down beside mine. If he doesn’t cut it out, everyone at the table is going to notice, and then we’ll both be in for a lecture.

I clamp my hand down around his thigh, trapping the nervous movement beneath my palm. Callum flashes me a frustrated look. His patience is worn thin, which means I have to step up and handle this. As soon as there is a lull in the yelling, I clear my throat loudly. Dad and Dimitri both turn to look at me.

“This is serious,” I start. “Obviously, we need to shut the hunters down and find out who is feeding them their intel. We cannot and will not show weakness,” I parrot their words back to them, and they both nod aggressively. Good. I need them to chill out. “I think we should regroup tomorrow and see if Idris has anything to add to the attack plan.”

My father squints his eyes in consideration.

“I thought you two didn’t like him,” Dimitri grumbles. “You’ve been complaining about the alliance ever since you came home.”

As usual, Dimitri chooses to be a disagreeable fuck.

My dad booms a laugh, but it’s missing his normal joy. “That’s because they think he’s after their girl,” he says. “It’s the jealousy of young men, plain and simple, Dimitri.”

The accusation stings, but I won’t hide how strongly I feel for her. “She’s a woman worth getting a little jealous over,” I admit. “I was skeptical at first. That’s true. But I think Idris is a valuable ally.”

“What do you think, Callum?” My dad asks. “You’ve been very quiet.”

I barely stifle my groan. He’s just trying to make sure Cal is included, but it’s going to backfire. Every time my friend speaks in these meetings, his father jumps down his throat.

“I think Idris wants the folk to thrive here,” Callum says carefully. “And I believe he knows being a part of the enclave is the best way to accomplish that.”

“So you’re saying he has ulterior motives and could turn on us?” Dimitri twists his son’s words exactly as I predicted.

“No, that’s not what I said at all.” Callum’s tone is measured but tight. “However, I do think leaving him out of meetings like this is the quickest way to erode his trust.”

“Do you have something to say, boy?” Dimitri growls. “You think you can run this enclave better than me?”

“Now, now, everyone, calm down.” My dad realizes his mistake too late and tries to diffuse the tension, even though Dimitri is the only one raising his voice.

“I am calm.” Callum sounds exhausted. “As always, my words have no hidden meanings, and I have no interest in running this enclave.” He sighs heavily and stands. I shuffle to my feet to join him. “I also have no more energy to devote to this meeting tonight. It’s late, but I’ll be happy to talk more about this tomorrow.”

Dimitri leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. He doesn’t apologize, but at least he shuts up.

Callum looks at my dad, his eyes softening when he sees how distressed he is. “Joshua, I’m truly sorry about your friend. I hope you know I will do everything in my power to help you protect this community.”

“I know that, Callum.” My dad nods. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

Sadness carves deep brackets in the skin between dad’s eyebrows and along the corners of his mouth. He looks old. It terrifies me.

After I tell them goodnight, I follow Callum out of the conference room. I’m only seconds behind him, but even with a solid six inches of height to my advantage, I have to jog to catch up. Following him down the deserted hallway, I keep quiet as he seethes. When he stops abruptly and kicks over a trash can, I wait.

“Why does he talk to me like that, Gideon? What have I ever done to lose his trust?”

His voice is anguished. It makes me want to turn around and beat the shit out of Dimitri. Instead, I shrug my shoulders, hating how helpless his dad’s behavior always makes me feel. “Nothing, Cal. You haven’t done anything to deserve this.”

“I fucking hate being here.” He throws his arms out, gesturing to the dark walls.

“I know you do, man,” I whisper.

“It makes me feel... small.” His hand shakes slightly, and there’s so much vulnerability in the final word, it pisses me off even more.

“That’s bullshit,” I snarl. Callum shakes his head and turns away from me. I grab his arm, spinning him around so I can see his face. “It is bullshit. You can be mad. You can kick shit over as much as you want, but you don’t get to feel small.”

Callum’s eyes are dull and lifeless as he looks up at me. “You can’t control that any more than you can control my father, Gideon.”

He’s shutting down.

“Dimitri is jealous,” I insist. Callum scoffs and I tighten my grip. “I’m serious. You’re twice the demon he is. The community respects you, and he knows...” I hesitate, unsure if he’s ready to talk about this.

“Knows what?”

“He knows he fucked up with you.” I loosen my grip on his arm, but I don’t drop my hand. “His own bias made him freak out when your powers manifested. He fucked up, and instead of admitting that and trying to make it up to you now, his ego tells him to tear you down.”

“Godsdamn man, you’re making a lot of eloquent assumptions about a demon who hasn’t wasted a second thought on me in years.” Callum chuckles, trying to play it off. “Are you sure that wish wore off?”

“No jokes, Cal. I need you to hear me this time.”

“I hear you,” he says, lifting his eyes to finally meet mine.

He doesn’t seem like he’s hanging off the edge of a cliff anymore, but I can’t read the look on his face. I’m opening my mouth to drive my point home when Callum’s lips crash into mine.

The kiss is rough and a little desperate. There’s nothing soft about his mouth. By the time I unfreeze from the shock, he’s pulling away, eyes wide with panic. I lick my lips, irritated that he didn’t give me time to participate.

“I’m so sorry,” Callum whispers, backing away from me. “I don’t know why I?—”

I don’t give him a chance to freak out. I wrap one hand around the back of his neck and drop my head down to kiss him again. This time, when his mouth meets mine, the pace is less frenzied. It’s like both of us are tiptoeing into the unknown.

At some point, I forget. I forget he’s a man. I forget he’s my best friend. And I forget to be careful. Instead, I just enjoy the kiss. I enjoy the way it feels to discover new things about a person I know better than myself—like the way his lips taste and how he fights me for control.

When Cal sinks his hand into my tangled curls and tugs, I growl, pushing him back against the wall and pinning him there with my body. We grapple for dominance, the air scorching between us, the kiss a physical escape from our argument and my long-ass list of pent up frustrations.

It’s fucking addictive.

By the time I pull back to catch my breath, I’m not on the fence about kissing my best friend anymore.

“You don’t have to apologize to me,” I growl, responding a little late to his earlier panic.

“Was that weird for you?” Callum drops his head back against the wall. “I don’t want you to feel obligated or pressured?—”

“Stop acting like you’re a predator or something. I didn’t push you off, did I?” I point to our position, where he’s clearly the one backed against the wall.

“No, but?—”

“Relax, Callum.” I interrupt him again. “We kissed. It was hot.” I adjust myself in my pants. “I can’t tell you I know what this means for us, but we’ll figure it out.”

Stepping away from his body, I give him space to process and pick up the trash can he kicked over earlier.

“Seriously, I’m fine. Are you good?” I ask.

“I think so,” he mutters.

There’s a familiar wrinkle between his eyes. I shake my head and smile.

“Do you want to talk about why you kissed me?” When he blushes, I waggle my eyebrows. “There’s no reason to be shy and shit now, Cal. Thirty seconds ago, you were using my hair like a steering wheel.”

Callum looks at the top of my head with a slight smirk. My curls probably look like a used mop at this point. Unfortunately, his smile doesn’t last, and the wrinkle reappears as he sighs.

“I don’t know. I was just upset, and you got it. You get me. You always have,” Callum explains. “It’s not like I’ve thought about kissing you a bunch of times before, but suddenly, I couldn’t think about anything else.”

His eyes drop to my lips again, and I don’t hesitate. I lean in and kiss him. It’s a hell of a lot softer than our first few kisses.

“What was that for?” Callum asks, so close I can feel the question on my lips.

“I was thinking about it, so I did.” I grin and take off down the hallway for real this time. “Come on. I’m exhausted, and it’s time for bed.”

“What would your mom say if she knew you were ordering me to bed?” Callum trails after me, laughing lightly when I groan.

“Knowing her . . . ‘I told you so.’”

CALLUM

We slide into bed on either side of Sheena. I wrap my arms around her, relishing in the feel of her soft body against mine and the way her scent relaxes me. She’s perfect.

My demon agrees—nothing has changed there. Not that I expected it to. It’s uncommon for incubi to be picky about the gender of their partners. A meal is a meal, after all. But I’ve never kissed a man before. Beyond that, I’ve never even thought about making a move on my best friend. Even when I was practically starving with the need to replenish my magic, it didn’t cross my mind.

He’s too important.

“Stop overthinking,” Gideon grumbles at me, his voice low and irritated.

“I’m not,” I snap.

“Yes, you obviously are. Your thoughts are so loud, I can’t sleep.”

He’s not wrong, but I can’t just turn them off. It doesn’t work like that. “But what does it mean?” I ask.

“Gods, Cal. It means whatever we decide it means.”

His confidence settles me. It means whatever we decide it means. I can live with that.

I feel eyes on me when I wake up the next morning. I crack mine open blearily. Emerald green greets me, burning with excitement.

“Are you awake?” Sheena whispers, the sound too loud for whatever time it is.

“I am now.” I wipe the sleep from my face and smile back at her. “Do you feel better today?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Sheena blows past my question, reaching across Gideon to grab the purple book off the nightstand. In the process, she jostles him awake. Like a bear coming out of hibernation, he grumbles, latching on to her and dragging her down his chest.

“More sleep,” he grunts, but already she’s squirming free.

“No more sleep. I have to show you something,” Sheena insists. Gideon cracks one eye open hopefully, but I don’t think she has any plans to show him what he’s imagining right now.

“Can I borrow a claw?” She asks, holding up his hand.

Gideon looks confused, but he transforms his nails into razor sharp claws. The look of confusion on his face morphs into horror when Sheena rakes her middle finger over one sharp tip.

“What the fuck, Sheena?” He yells, quickly transforming his claws back into normal human fingernails.

“Hush and just watch.”

She waves us off impatiently, then presses her bleeding finger against the dirty old book. Before I can comment about how unsanitary that is, smoke rises from the pages and the book pops open. Gideon’s jaw drops. He looks as shocked as I feel.

“Right?” She giggles. “I almost had a panic attack last night when it did that.”

“How in the world did you figure that out?” I ask, impressed that she thought to use blood magic to get the book to trust her.

“Don’t be mad.” She dips her head. “I went to talk to Idris last night during your meeting. The blood was his idea.”

Of course it was. That shady shit thinks of everything.

I take a deep breath. “I’m not mad,” I assure her.

“Was he polite?” Gideon asks. “He didn’t try anything, did he?”

Sheena groans, swatting at him with the book.

“Careful. That binding is like a thousand years old, and you’re slinging it around like a used magazine,” I tease.

“He was a complete gentleman.” She hesitates. I tilt my head, considering her guarded expression. I don’t think she’s lying, but there’s something she’s leaving out. Before I can push for more, she fills the silence herself. “What happened to you both, anyway? I tried to wait up, but that was a really long meeting.”

“Last night was wild, baby,” Gideon says. “The meeting was boring and tense, but after it was over, Callum found out I’m a great kisser.”

Gideon stretches his arms over his head with a yawn as I flinch. Sheena blinks slowly as she glances between the two of us and processes what he just said.

“Sweetheart, are you upset?” I ask, eying her carefully.

“Yeah, kind of,” Sheena admits with a pout. My heart sinks like a rock in my chest as I imagine a dozen ways to punish Gideon for his poor planning. “You two kissed in real life, and I wasn’t there to see? Will you kiss again now? Please.”

Sheena slides her index finger inside the book to hold her place and looks between us expectantly with wide eyes. Gideon bursts out laughing, falling back onto the pillows.

“I told you. You were overthinking it, Cal.” Gideon laughs for so long I get a little offended. When I climb out of bed to get some distance, two sets of eyes follow me.

“I think you’ve hurt his feelings,” Sheena says to Gideon. “You should kiss him to make it up to him.”

My lips curl against my will at her one-track mind. Gideon follows me out of bed, stretching to his full height before stepping closer to me.

“You really think so, baby? You think I should kiss him?” He addresses her while breathing in my air.

Suddenly, I can’t think about anything but the heat building in the room.

“Yes, please,” Sheena whispers, biting her bottom lip.

Gideon grabs my neck with one hand, yanking my lips to his. I do my best to control the kiss. When Gideon digs his thumb into the hollow of my throat, I retaliate by sinking one of my hands into his hair roughly and rubbing my bare chest against his. I bite his bottom lip hard and he growls into my mouth.

It’s only when I feel Sheena’s lust spike and merge with ours that I groan and shove him away. “Are we going to read the djinn book or just stand around all day making out?” I try to play it cool, but my panting ruins the effect.

“I mean, if I really get a choice—it’s option two, for sure,” Sheena says, sinking back into the pillows with a huff. “You two are so hot. I’m not going to be able to focus on anything.”

I shake my head and hide my smile as I walk to the bathroom.

By the time I come back, Sheena is sitting on the love seat and holding the book studiously. Gideon is staring at it over her shoulder.

“It snaps shut if he even thinks about touching it,” Sheena explains without looking up.

“That’s what she said.” I snicker.

Gideon flips me the bird.

“If the book is going to be a prude, I guess you’re on solo research duty for now,” I say, wedging myself in beside her on the small piece of furniture. I point to the book. “Is there an index? Maybe you can read any sections that mention talisman magic first, so we can go get that handled for you.”

I know I sound a little blasé. But it’s that or release all of my worries on the two of them, and that wouldn’t be fair. Feigning nonchalance is the best I can do right now.

“No index or table of contents.” Sheena smiles to soften the blow. “Given that they probably assembled this book when dinosaurs roamed the Earth, it’s not exactly organized traditionally. I’ll let you know as soon as I see anything about a talisman. I promise.”

I frown at the book, annoyed that it’s still being difficult. “If it’s so old,” I say. “I’m surprised it’s even readable.”

“Yeah, that’s odd.”

“It’s not readable.”

Sheena and Gideon contradict each other at the same time. We share confused looks, then all together, we look back down at the book. Gideon is right. The only thing I can make out is the word ‘djinn.’ Everything else is completely indecipherable.

“Are you guys messing with me?” Sheena asks, tucking some hair behind her ear and pointing at the page in front of her. “It says, ‘the djinn are a powerful and ancient race with a sacred mission to protect and preserve.’”

Gideon and I exchange a surprised look.

“It may say that, baby, but it looks like gibberish to us,” Gideon says, squinting at the text.

“Maybe you being able to read it while we can’t is just another part of the book’s magic,” I suggest. They both turn to look at me and I shrug. “I don’t have any better ideas. Just keep reading.”

Sheena nods and begins reading in earnest. After several minutes of silence, Gideon starts to fidget on the arm of the couch. He’s so big she gets jostled every time he moves.

Eventually she’s had enough. Sheena marks her place in the book and looks up. “I don’t know how long it’s going to take me to read this, and there’s no reason for you to sit here all day waiting. Why don’t you both go find something else to do?”

“Are you trying to get rid of us?” I ask, smirking at her obvious exasperation.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yeah, but I get it, baby.” Gideon grins, planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “We need to check in with our dads about the latest attack anyway.” He gives me a loaded look, and I groan.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll go talk to the dads and let you read.” I drop a soft kiss on her lips, smiling against her mouth. “But only if you promise to let us know as soon as you learn something about talismans.”

She nods and waves us off, sinking back into the plush cushions to focus.

SHEENA

After years of hiding out in the middle of nowhere and bussing tables to get by, I’m sitting in an actual mansion, reading an ancient book written in a dead language. No more chipped laminate countertops for me. The tables around me now are all covered in linen tablecloths and crystal vases.

How did I end up here?

I inhale deeply, feeling a dull ache in my heart and head. Curled up on the couch reading in the middle of the day sounds relaxing, but there’s nothing leisurely about it. It’d be easier to enjoy if everything wasn’t a matter of life and death.

With the guys gone, I can finally concentrate on reading. I know they want to help, but their anxiety made it impossible for me to focus. Hopefully, this book has some answers.

I make my way through the introduction and can’t help but groan when I realize it’s basically saying ‘with great power comes great responsibility.’ Spider-Man’s dead uncle already taught me that. I thumb ahead, skimming until I get to a section on tiers.

This is interesting.

Apparently, djinn have different levels of power. The book says some can only affect physical objects. Like wishing for a soda from the fridge. Others can bend minds and warp wills, not just changing opinions but controlling actions as well. Even stronger djinn can modify reality itself, creating and manipulating the world around them and everyone’s perception of it.

The book goes on to say it’s not uncommon for djinn to have some combination of these skills, but the levels of power vary wildly. Which apply to me? I’ve changed some mental and physical outcomes against my will in the past, but it’s difficult to gauge the scope. I rub the furrow between my brows when my headache becomes a persistent throbbing.

Whoever wrote this doesn’t go into how to test your magic, but there is a small section about how all djinn must be assessed by an elder after they come of age. Evidently, the elders are the ones who give djinn their power rankings and placements.

On the next page there's an elaborate table. It takes me a second to figure out what it's showing, but eventually, I realize it's a guideline for djinn community placements. Once I find the djinn's power level column, I can see not only the suggested tithe but also standards for their protection detail. Stronger djinn require more money and more guards.

Here’s a friendly neighborhood djinn. Now pay up and don’t let anyone kill them. Given that I appear to be the last of my kind, I’m guessing this organizational structure stopped working at some point. I’m not surprised. It’s cold and transactional and favors communities that are already thriving.

I flip to the next chapter and sit up a little straighter. ‘Limitations’ is scrawled at the top of the page in a gilded, looping script.

According to the text, my magic cannot take a life. Thank god. The idea of becoming someone else’s killing machine... I shudder.

Changing the past is another impossibility. While it might be handy to wish for all the djinn to be alive again, it could also cause a lot of problems.

The book also notes that djinn can’t grant any wish that imbues an object with magic or affects the belongings of another djinn, even a relative. That eliminates the possibility of wishing for a talisman.

The final limitation is the nail in my coffin: djinn magic cannot be used to affect another djinn or for their own direct personal gain. If Gideon tried to wish me better or Callum wished I knew the answers, nothing would happen. That brings me back to square one, and my heart sinks.

The next page has an ornate illustration that takes my breath away. The djinn in the drawing is beautiful and terrifying. Her hair is floating, her features angular and sharp—almost jagged in a way that haunts me.

Is this how I look?

Brushing my fingertips over the art, I feel her strength, her resolve, her pride in who she is. This djinn doesn’t look like she spent her life hiding. She looks like the kind of person stories and songs are written about. Was her life an epic adventure? Did she have a great love?

The throbbing in my head ratchets up another notch as a cold, lonely feeling settles around my heart.

I’m the only one left.

When Idris and Mallory talked about the djinn, it all felt so abstract. I was just a bystander, someone observing a great tragedy from the sidelines. Now, staring at this image after adding my blood to the stained cover of this book, I feel grief not only for myself but also for my species as a whole.

There’s no one else.

As the last of us, I can’t help feeling as though I’ve inherited a greater responsibility. Like I’m carrying the burden of the past on my shoulders with no one to tell me which way to go.

I pull my eyes away from the nameless djinn, shocked to feel a tear slip down my cheek. I let it fall and scrub the heel of my hand over my eyes to clear the blur of exhaustion. The pressure opens up the tiny cut on my finger from Gideon’s claw. Red blood blooms on the tip. I pop it into my mouth, wincing at the slight sting as I focus back on the book.

The next chapter details the ethics of wishing. It says the responsibility lies with the djinn to determine if the wisher is worthy or if their desires are within the bounds of what’s right.

I scoff. Who can make that kind of determination correctly each time?

Reading further, I learn djinn are instructed to take any doubts or concerns to the elders for a final decision. No wonder my people made enemies. There’s a lot of room for subjective moral interpretation here. I can imagine an infinite number of scenarios in which wishes were denied and the asker became furious.

I find a centerfold illustration of various ornate pieces of jewelry next. There are rings, necklaces, bracelets, and even a jewel-encrusted tiara. Turning the page, I see: ‘Attuning to your Talisman.’

This is it; the answers I need.

My breathing picks up as my fingers tighten around the book. I skim the section quickly. It explains how to pick from among your family’s cache of talismans to find the one that fits you and your magic best. There’s nothing about creating a new magical anchor—only a minor note at the bottom of the page which tells you to seek help from an elder if none of your options feel right.

I throw my head back against the couch and groan. I knew we weren’t going to be able to pick up a talisman at the mall, but this is bleak. With no family or elders, the odds of me locating and bonding with a magical, life-saving artifact are pretty slim.

Frowning at the book in my hands, I go back through the section more carefully, hoping I missed something. Then, I read through the entire book from front to back without skipping around this time. It’s short, probably less than a hundred pages, so it doesn’t take me long to finish it.

Unfortunately, the answer doesn’t appear. While some things—like social structure and power dynamics—stand out to me on the re-read, there’s nothing that gets me any closer to a talisman. There are also no helpful tips on ways to slow or stop my deterioration without an anchor.

No pity.

Falling back on my original rule holds my panic at bay. I’ve never given up before, and I’m not about to start now.

Ignoring the throbbing in my head, I flip back to the beginning and start again.