Jinni's Wish, Book 4 Kingdom Series (4 page)

“Code Blue,” someone shouted. “Code
Blue.”

More people rushed the room, a swarm of white
coats and humans in colorful scrubs.

Jinni cocked his head, reaching out a blue
hand and trailed it down her cheek. He felt nothing, no firmness of
flesh, no heat off her body. Just the static of energy buzzing
along his vaporous body.

“Damn it, we’re not equipped to handle this,”
a deep voice growled, “we’re a small clinic. Dana, you’re gonna
have to call Anchorage, we’ve got to get the worst ones air lifted
out of here, stat.”

He heard the voices, the sounds of panic, but
it was white noise in the background. The woman took up his vision,
all he saw was her. The soft rising of her breaths as the machine
worked her lungs up and down, the unflinching beauty of a woman in
sleep.

Jinni hadn’t meant to follow, he’d thought to
stay in the woods and await Danika’s return. To show her he was
unmoved, unphased by the woman Danika had chosen for him. But as
his temporary form had faded, and she’d slipped softly through his
hands, a part of him had felt irrevocably tethered. Like she’d
taken the last shred of his soul, trapping it within her soft, soft
body.

She’d felt so wonderful. Flesh firm, hot, and
smooth, and he’d shuddered, having forgotten the sensation hundreds
of years ago. The feeling of touching skin to skin, of holding a
beautiful woman in the crook of his arms, feeling her breaths roll
gently along his flesh. Making him burn with something close to
desire.

Jinni had no idea how long he’d waited with
her in the woods. Long enough for his body to fade to nothing but a
glowing mist again, long enough for the emergency crews to arrive,
long enough for him to completely change his mind.

When the E.M.T.’s had grabbed her,
pronouncing her in critical condition and strapping her to a
rolling gurney, he’d not given it a second thought. It wasn’t that
he wouldn’t stay behind. It was that he couldn’t.

Out of curiosity he’d glanced at the second
ambulance housing the golem’s body, wondering what the hospital
would do when they realized how unhuman he was. The golem would
bleed, could heal, and even on occasion … could talk. But the golem
couldn’t feel. Because there was no life to it. A golem was a form
without a soul. A shell with no emotions. Purely magic, which
begged the question, why was it here?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Ironic that the beeps should be soothing. But
they were the sound of her heart, he timed his own to them. Was
this his mate? This nameless woman with molten brown eyes?

Beepbeepbeep…

He cocked his head. The beeps seemed to be
getting stronger. Was that a good thing?

Jinni glanced back, but none of the nurses
seemed phased. They were grabbing packets, ripping them open to
reveal long red tubes. Others were rolling in a large silver stand,
hooking a clear bag of fluid to it, then twisting the tubes into
the bag.

Beepbeepbeep…. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

A nurse finally glanced up, her face grew red
as she shoved blond bangs out of her face. “Ah, hell. She’s flat
lining. Grab Doc, Marshall. Now!” She zipped around the side of the
bed, stepping right into Jinni.

Her energy mingled with his own, making
sparks shoot through his form. She shuddered, but didn’t stop. The
blonde opened the woman’s eyelids. “Honey, honey, can you hear
me?”

Another white coat rushed in. “Paddles,” he
cried as he raced to other side of the bed and threw the sheet
back, opening the front of the woman’s hospital gown.

Jinni floated away from the bed. He couldn’t
watch anymore. Couldn’t see what they did to her. He rushed through
body after body, exiting the sterile room and leaning against the
white washed halls, staring absentmindedly at the throngs running
in and out of not only her room, but several others down the
hall.

There were beds in the halls, stacked one on
top of the other. Lumpy forms obscured by white sheets, the burnt
odor of hair and flesh a macabre reminder of where they’d come
from. Most hadn’t survived the crash. And those that did, would
probably wish they hadn’t.

A cold shiver washed over him. Energy from a
portal of time, which meant
she’d
returned.

“She will die,” he said, never turning to
gaze at Danika. “Why send me a mate, only to kill her in the next
breathe? Cruel, even for you, starflower.”

There was no venom in his words, he hadn’t
the strength for it.

Danika flitted in front of him, mournful blue
eyes glistening with unshed tears. “She’s not dead yet, Jinni.”

Finally he looked at her. “But she will die.
Is that what you’re saying?”

She took a deep breath, dragonfly wings
undulating gracefully behind her small fae frame. “Losing Miriam,
that was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through.”

Jinni didn’t want to hear about her sadness.
Didn’t want to do this, share and confide. He barely knew the
woman. She meant nothing to him.

And yet… maybe she did. Because the spot
where his heart used to be burned with a gutted sort of flame.

Danika patted his arm, or at least attempted
to. Her fingers were cold as they slipped through. He clenched his
jaw.

“But I can promise you, if you choose the
right way. If you make the right choices, happiness can be
yours.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes and staring at
the milling bodies. “I’m tired, fairy. Tired of this half-life,
tired of the endless days. Tired of it all.”

The words sounded so cold, spoken without the
slightest inflection or trace of sorrow. They just were, a
sentiment he’d had years to accept. And yet a siren’s song beckoned
him from within the sterile room full of beeps and strange noises.
A soft and quiet yearning he could hardly understand, for a woman
he didn’t know.

“Don’t you dare say that to me!” She clenched
her fist, yelling with fury, but also something almost like pain.
When he looked back at her, it was to notice fat tears leaking out
the corners of her eyes. “I’ll not lose you too. Miriam was many
things, but never a liar. She told me what would happen. I know
each and every outcome, each path every choice could make. Make it
right, Jinni.”

“Why do you care? I have never liked you,
fairy. I never wanted a godmother.”

Danika’s nostrils flared. “Because I will do
my job, no matter what. You were given to my care, and I take my
job seriously. I hope someday you can accept that, Jinni, but
either way… I won’t stop.”

Swiping her hand, she opened a blue portal
and without stopping to look back, flew inside. Only then did he
realize he’d never asked about the Golem.

“What’s happened to me? Where am I? Can you
see me?”

The sound of the dulcet voice drew his
attention, made the memory of a pulse stutter through him. Jinni
turned and sucked in a breath when he caught sight of the soft blue
glow of a woman’s form filling the doorway. Beautiful brown eyes
stared back at him with a hopeless gleam.

“Can you see me?” she asked, a thread of hope
lacing the softly spoken words.

Jinni nodded his head.

She breathed a huge sigh of relief and ran up
to him, throwing her arms around his waist, but quickly fell
through. More insubstantial than a ghost, Jinni felt the ripples of
her energy wash through him. Pure and clean, and lovely. He stared
at her on the ground, wishing he could hold out his hand.

She wrapped her arms around herself, white
hospital gown slipping down her pale brown shoulder. “Are you
dead?” Then her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with
trembling fingers. “Am I dead?”

“My name is Jinni.” It was the only thing he
could think to say, desperately wanting her to know his name.
Wanting to share a piece of himself, miniscule though it was.

She licked her lips. “My name is Paz.”

He smiled. A traveler had journeyed to his
Kingdom long ago, bringing a caravan of servants who’d spoken in
foreign tongues. One in particular, a green-eyed beauty, had taught
him bits of her language. A lyrical, romantic language called
Spanish.

“Peace,” he said, “Paz, means peace.”

She smiled and something painful twisted in
his chest. “Yes, Paz means peace.”

Paz stood by the foot of the bed, wondering
when that strange man would return. After their introduction, he’d
smiled and then vanished. A cold chill swept her, tugged at
something deep in her soul, made her yearn for more.

Restless, she started to pace. Transfixed by
the sight of her unmoving body lying in that cold, hard bed. She
hated hospitals. Always had. Ever since the day she and Richard had
walked out of the emergency room of Chicago medical center, doors
swooshing shut behind them with the stark reality that their
parents wouldn’t leave there alive.

It’d been cold, sleeting, and miserable. Paz
had an art exhibition on the campus. She’d pleaded with her parents
to stay home, that it was okay, she really wouldn’t feel bad if
they didn’t show up.

But they’d known she’d lied. She never could
keep the truth from creeping into her voice--the wistful ache to
have her parents share in her first “real” show. They’d gotten into
the car, and from what the police records had said … it’d been
quick and painless. They’d never seen it coming.

She’d always held fast to that belief. That
knowledge that they hadn’t known their lives were over.

And yet… maybe they had, because she was
still here.

The walls of this sterile room were white,
tubes ran the length of her body, a whir and beeping sound (she
knew) were the only things still keeping her alive.

Or at least the shell of her. Because
somehow, she was still here. The real her. The soul her. She
glanced at her arms. They weren’t as pale a blue as the man she’d
fallen through yesterday.

Had it been yesterday?

She frowned as her thoughts turned fuzzy.
Time ran so differently here. A perpetual wheel of motion that she
could trace, but never follow.

Sighing, she dropped her arms. She couldn’t
leave the hospital. She’d already tried. Dozens of times, she’d
walk down to the end of the corridor, but then some inexplicable
urge to run back consumed her. Overwhelmed her, made her ache with
a need to vomit or scream. The second she’d turn around, she’d feel
better.

Where was that blue man?

Jinni? Was that his name?

She rubbed her cold forehead. How long would
she have to stay here? Stuck in limbo?

In her twenty-seven years she’d gone to mass
only a handful of times, but she’d always scoffed at the notion of
a purgatory. A place where sinners went to work off their sins
before they were clean enough to enter through the pearly
gates.

Was this her punishment?

Floating toward the edge of the bed, she
concentrated all her energy on lifting the hem of the white sheet
tucked around her, (no, the body lying there wasn’t her. It was
just a body and she couldn’t think of it as her anymore) the body’s
feet.

A rush of fiery energy-- like the sensation
of a numb limb suddenly burning as it filled with blood-- gathered
in her fingertips. Clenching her teeth, sweating profusely, she
willed the sheet higher and higher, with a final flicker of energy
she untucked it and tossed it aside. Gasping hard for breath,
feeling as though she’d just run a marathon.

It was getting harder. Yesterday she’d been
able to do it easier.

Had it been yesterday?

Why couldn’t she remember anymore?

She bit her lip as the ugly truth of the body
was exposed. Blood soaked bandages covered a leg so swollen it
looked three times the size it’d been before. The toes were a deep
crimson, the toenails gone.

The purple and silver rhinestone studded
pedicure that’d cost her a small fortune, forever lost somewhere in
the deep woods.

A bad smell emanated from the leg. Every time
the nurses came in they couldn’t hide their grimace, or the worry
scrawled across thin eyebrows.

With a shudder, Paz turned her gaze aside,
but the sight of the body’s face was even worse. Clear tubes ran up
the nose, a red snake looking thing was in the mouth, and the eyes
were puffy. The skin that’d once been a healthy bronze was now a
waxy yellow.

She swallowed hard and looked up when chatter
disturbed her macabre thoughts.

The nurse, wearing a colorful smock and
pants, stopped in the door with a swift frown. She flipped through
the file and then shrugged. Swiftly she walked to the side of the
bed, peered at the monitor behind the body, and then tsked.

“
Well, Paz, good morning to you
.”

Morning?

Paz looked over her shoulder at the window. A
faint pink cloud crept along the horizon. When had it turned
night?

“
And how are you this fine
morning
?”

“Fine,” she said, wishing like hell the nurse
would look her (not the body, but her) in the eye.

The nurse smiled, never glancing up as she
patted the body’s cheek. “
You know, doc says you’re in a
coma
.”

Really?

Paz nibbled her lip. Weren’t comas bad?

“
But I don’t think
,” the nurse smiled
again, “
you are. Because you see, for the past two mornings,
you’ve kicked your sheets off, and I know comatose patients can’t
do that
.”

The young blonde nurse fiddled with a clear
bag of fluid.

“
And if you can hear me in there
,” she
peered straight at the body’s face with thinned lips, “
you wake
up, sweetie. We’re all pulling for ya
.” With a nod she turned
on her heels and made for the exit.

Paz’s heart sank. “But I’m right here. I do
hear you.”

She trailed the nurse, trying to tap her,
hoping in some way to make a connection to another soul.