Tales of the Djinn: The Guardian (10 page)

Elyse could almost feel his arm squeezing her
shoulders.

Sighing—but thankfully not crying—she tucked
the phone in her back pocket and went to make coffee. The box of
Turkish delight sat open on her island, empty but for the powdered
sugar still clinging to the wax paper. She’d save it, she decided,
loving the painting of the Old World sweetshop on the lid. Maybe
her odd new tenants would turn into friends. Maybe they’d stay a
month or two and move on. Either way, the gift was a symbol that
life didn’t stop just because you’d lost someone. Nice surprises
might be around the corner. The end of the story hadn’t been
written yet.

Elyse knew her dad would have approved of
that attitude.

~

Arcadius spent his morning at the New York
Public Library, researching Elyse’s family history. Though his
over-amped libido had left him sleep-deprived, his surroundings
perked him up. The main branch on Fifth was lovely, the Rose
Reading Room worthy of having been built by djinn, with its
majestic ceiling murals and high arched windows.

No charm but simply a polite request earned
him the aid of a helpful librarian. Though djinn didn’t have
computers, they had magical objects that served similar functions.
The librarian’s instructions for how to use the loaner were easy to
follow.

As Elyse had mentioned, her grandfather Saul,
the antiquarian bookseller, was the first Solomon to own the
brownstone. He’d bought it in 1950 when he was a mere twenty-seven
years of age. He moved in with his wife Mary to raise two sons. The
elder, Leo, was three at the time of purchase. The younger,
Vincent, had been just shy of two. Both sons grew up and married,
and both sired one daughter. Of the two sons, Leo had stuck closer
to the brownstone, continuing to reside there even as an adult.
Perhaps because of this, the building was left to him at his
father’s death in 1994. Mary pre-deceased Saul, and her sons had
already formed Solomon Brothers Imports—which appeared to provide
them a good living.

Curious, Arcadius searched local newspapers
for reports of strange happenings at the address. Elyse’s husband’s
unsolved homicide came up, the case ceasing to appear again after a
few articles. A previous structure on the site had been a
Freemasons lodge. It burned to the ground in 1912, the cause for
the fire listed as faulty wiring. The current building went up a
few years later. No other dramatic events were reported.

Apart from an account in an Italian tabloid
of Leo’s death, he also found no news stories involving the Solomon
brothers. If they’d come into unexplained sums of money, they
weren’t spending them in newsworthy ways. Leo had possessed quite a
few djinn treasures before he fell into the volcano. If he’d had
others he sold for profit, Arcadius unearthed no sign of it in
these records.

As he shut off the machine he’d borrowed from
the library, Arcadius wasn’t sure what he’d accomplished. Leo or
his father seemed the best candidate for having installed and then
removed the door to the other plane. Perhaps one of Saul’s antique
books had supplied the instructions. Cara and her father’s interest
in the brownstone suggested they were aware of the nexus’s
existence, a likelihood he and Joseph had already guessed. Arcadius
felt no closer to finding the door itself or to understanding the
mind of whoever had hidden it.

He shoved back from the little wooden carrel
the librarian had led him to. He was an active man. His back was
stiff from sitting and he stretched his arms upward. Well-being
rushed through him as he did, his new body enjoying the sensation
of tight muscles relaxing. A different kind of stretch warmed his
groin a moment later. He dropped his arms and cursed. His new cock
was at it again, reminding him it wanted pleasure too.

Well, maybe it would get it. He did, after
all, have a live source of information on all the Solomons.

~

Elyse ran a quick errand at the bank, picked
up a few groceries, and came home. As she entered the brownstone’s
lobby with her bags, she noticed a man in work overalls rummaging
in the supply closet. The individual wasn’t her regular
handyman.

“Hey,” she said. “You’re not Frank.”

The guy stepped out where she could see him.
Elyse struggled not to gasp. The stranger was very big, very tall,
and very tattooed. The swirling, thorny designs covered every bit
of him, even his face and shaven scalp.

He looked like a bad guy from a movie.

“Sorry for taking you by surprise,” he said
in a rumbly voice. He wiped his giant hand and held it out to her.
It was tattooed as well, including his fingers. Elyse shook it in
bemusement. His grip was firm but not bone breaking. “You must be
Elyse. I’m Mario. I work with Frank on some of his other buildings.
He’s got the flu. He asked me to check in here. I hope that’s okay
with you.”

Mario’s eyes watched her, something about
their steadiness unnerving. His irises were so dark they blended
into his pupils.

“Frank gave you the keys?”

Mario held them up. “Frank told me your
tenants write their repair requests on the white board in here. Do
you maybe want to check the list and tell me what to do first?”

Everything he was saying was adding up, plus
he had his own authentically dented old toolbox. Probably she was
freaked because she didn’t meet people with that much ink everyday.
She told herself not to give in to narrow-mindedness.

“Sure,” she said, stepping into the closet to
study her tenants’ pleas. “I’ll call Frank later to make sure he’s
okay.”

~

The day was sunny but bitter cold. Arcadius
hailed a taxi to take him home from the library. Considering the
nice warm cab protected him from the wind, he didn’t long for a
flying carpet to whisk him there. After paying the driver and
getting out, he noticed Elyse’s cousin Cara lounging outside their
below-street door. Despite the arctic temperatures, her long red
coat hung open.

A blind man would have seen her nipples
poking behind her bra.

“Hey, there,” she said, her smile as bright
as the sky. “I was hoping I’d catch you. Your friend didn’t open up
when I knocked.”

“He may be out,” Arcadius responded
cautiously.

“Out and about,” she laughed, like it was a
joke. “What exactly do you two do?”

“We’re gem dealers.” This was what they’d
told Elyse, and it was true enough.

Cara seemed simultaneously amused and
dubious. “Interesting digs for that.”

He took a moment to grasp her meaning.
“Living modestly draws less attention. We have security
concerns.”

“Well, sure. Who wouldn’t?”

He couldn’t tell if she meant this or why she
was here. “Did you have a reason for wanting to speak to us?”

She laughed as if that were funny too,
pushing off the building’s brick to stand directly in front of him.
Getting up in his grill
, he believed the saying went. She
tapped his chest playfully with her fingernail. Though he found her
actions presumptuous, he couldn’t deny she was beautiful with the
icy wind blowing back her honeyed locks. Her lipstick was shiny
peach today. “I have a favor to ask.”

“A favor.”

“Nothing big. I borrowed this antique book
from my dad’s library and loaned it to Elyse’s husband. It’s a
collection of love poems. David wanted to read them to Elyse.” She
rolled her eyes like this was silly. “Anyway, he died before he
could return it, and we can’t find it anywhere in Elyse’s place.
I’d really like to put it back before my dad notices it’s
missing.”

“Forgive me,” Arcadius said politely. “But
what does this have to do with me?”

She blinked, clearly expecting a warmer
response. “Well, it might be in your apartment. David spent a lot
of time fixing up the place. Possibly he mislaid it down there. If
I could just take a quick look around—”

“No,” Arcadius said firmly. This really set
her back on her heels. “Joseph and I value our privacy. If we find
your book, we’ll let you know.”

“O-kay,” she said, hesitation breaking the
word apart. “It’s small. About the size of cigarette case and bound
in embossed leather. The pages are kind of fragile, so if you find
the thing, you probably shouldn’t open it.”

“We’ll keep your wishes in mind,” he
said.

She pulled her coat around her. He sensed her
deciding whether she should try to flirt harder. Maybe he should
have let her, but he kept his expression cool. He had enough
concerns without trying to juggle fake pursuits of her
and
Elyse.

“Okay, then.” Cara tossed her hair behind her
shoulders. “Thanks for agreeing to look for it. —Hi, Elyse,” she
added sunnily, lifting her hand toward the steps above them.

Elyse stood there in snug orange pants that
made his mouth go dry. The dismay on her face said she’d drawn her
own conclusions about his and Cara’s proximity. His stomach dipped
even as his annoyance spiked. Cara was swanning away down the walk
as if nothing at all were wrong. She must not have realized his
ears were sharper than a normal man’s.

“All right, mofo,” he heard her murmur
beneath her breath. “Don’t say I didn’t try to do this nice.”

~

Cara hadn’t simply cozied up to kissing
distance from Arcadius. She’d also treated him to her trademark
hair flip. To a practiced flirt like Elyse’s cousin, this was
pulling out the big guns.

Elyse’s gloves tightened on front stair
railing. This wasn’t her business. She had no dibs on the man.
Anyway, Arcadius hadn’t been smiling back at Cara.

Of course, his habitual expression was kind
of stern.

Even as she tried to comfort herself, his
head snapped around to watch Cara sashay away. Elyse’s cheeks
burned with embarrassment. Arcadius twisted back before she’d
recovered. His blue gray eyes were highly observant. She had a
feeling he knew what she was thinking better than she did.

“Your cousin asked if we’d seen a book of
poems she lent your husband,” he volunteered. “I told her we’d let
her know if we did.”

“She’s, uh, kind of got a thing about
that.”

Arcadius nodded, still looking serious. Elyse
cursed herself for finding that sexy.

“Did you have something to say to me?” he
inquired.

“Oh, um, yes.” She fought another blush. “The
repair guy is here. Have you or Joseph noticed anything not working
in your unit?”

“Everything seems functional,” he said.

“Okay . . . I’ll . . . just see you around
then.” She turned and began to climb the stairs, every step in the
formfitting leggings feeling incredibly awkward. For just a flash,
she had the weird impression he might be staring at her butt.

“Elyse,” Arcadius said.

She stopped and turned back to him. Her pulse
was going to get whiplash from the way he made it jump around.
“Yes?”

He was a ways beneath her, down on the
basement unit’s entry ramp. He lifted his face to speak. “Would you
like to have dinner? With me? At a nice restaurant?”

He was asking her on a
date
. Though
she’d been out of circulation for quite a while, she couldn’t
mistake that. Struggling to recover from her surprise, she shut her
gaping mouth.

“I enjoyed your company last night,” he
continued, his expression still serious but gentler. A tiny smile
pulled one corner of his kissable mouth upward. “If you’re
interested, I’ll tell you the rest of the sultan’s tale.”

She started to assure him she didn’t need a
bribe but pressed her lips together before she could. He was asking
her on a date. Dates implied things she wasn’t ready for.

Arcadius must have sensed she was on the
fence. “Food,” he enticed, the curve of his mouth deepening. “Wine.
Some hopefully pleasant conversation.
Lots
of wine, should
that not work out. It’s easy to say ‘yes’ to . . . unless you have
something more important you need to do.”

He reminded her she had something she’d
rather avoid. If she had dinner with him, she couldn’t cave to
Uncle Vince.

“Can I pick the place?”

“No.” He paired the refusal with a truly
brilliant smile, the first she’d seen him break into. His exotic
handsomeness dazzled her—and his obvious enjoyment in teasing her.
“I’m the man. I want to surprise you.”

An unexpected and very hot wet quiver seized
her between the legs. When it passed, desire ached deep inside of
her.

“I hate Thai food,” she said, because she
couldn’t just give in.

“I’ll come for you at seven,” was his
undeniably smug answer.

~

Elyse managed to put off worrying what to
wear until her day’s duties were fulfilled. These included calling
Frank her handyman a couple times and getting no response. She
shrugged off a pinch of unease. If Frank had a bad case of flu, he
might not be up to answering. Mario of the head-to-toe tattoos
seemed to be filling in okay. She’d crossed his path earlier, while
he was patching a wobbly baluster on the stairs. Also promising,
the hall light on the fourth floor wasn’t flickering anymore.
Probably she was right to give Frank’s choice the benefit of the
doubt.

Her upcoming date was another matter.
Low-grade anxiety turned to panic the moment she surveyed her
closet. She had nice clothes, or nice enough for her. She just had
no idea what would be appropriate. Was a dress too dressy? Or would
pants be too casual? Not knowing where they were going made her
selection more difficult. She didn’t want to be rude, but she also
didn’t want to send the wrong message. She flipped through her rack
again. Cleavage sent the wrong message. She could eliminate any
choices that exposed that.

“Yoo-hoo,” called her cousin’s voice from the
foyer.

Elyse’s heart jumped into her throat. Cara
had a key but she usually knocked. She also didn’t usually tear
herself away from work this early. Cara loved her job at Solomon
Brothers.