I sifted through my thoughts to get a better understanding of my emotions.
Relief and acceptance were the predominant ones.
Killian needed someone in his life to take care of him, to love him, to protect him from himself. Z was capable and willing to do just that. I couldn’t fault my brother for being happy, just like I couldn’t fault my mate for making him as such. She was good for him, and he, her. He brought out a tenderness that was absent normally, even when she was with me.
I could see the way she looked at him, like he was something to be cherished and protected at all cost.
So no, as I stared at the bed, I felt no jealousy. No animosity for two people I cared about more than anyone else in this god-forsaken world.
Diverting my attention from the fluffy white bed, I walked to the couch and collapsed down. My fingers were white from how tightly I gripped the package Laurel had given me.
I could scarcely believe I held it. I kept expecting to blink and have it disappear in a cloud of smoke. To dematerialize, as if it had never existed at all.
Hand shaking, I grabbed the golden hued lamp from inside the purple bag. It was small, smaller than even Laurel’s, with a color that wasn’t quite gold but wasn’t yellow either. Umber and amber blended together, a dark shade of black at the bottom. There were no jewels encrusted on the sides like my father’s.
Simple. Relatively unremarkable. It gave no indication of the power it wielded, the power it continued to wield.
I felt as if I was going to pass out. My entire attention was fixated on the lamp in my hand. The lamp that had been missing for years now.
When you made a wish with a Genie, you had to be specific. There could be no loopholes. It sometimes took weeks, months, to articulate a wish. If you fucked up...
Well...
It wasn’t unheard of for things to become dire for you.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t thought of wishing for my lamp until Z had come back into my life. That would’ve saved me years of fruitless searching.
With bated breath, I rubbed my hands down the smooth sides. Cliché, most definitely. It was a stupid practice implemented at the beginning of time.
Unlike Laurel, I didn’t revel in collecting souls. I didn’t like granting wishes to unsuspecting people, despite my entire survival depending on it.
I took clients that wanted little. A new dog, for example. Or a roof over their heads. Unlike the other assholes, I tried to keep the wishes straight to the point. No loopholes. No stipulations.
It didn’t change the fact that the universal cost for not holding up your end of the contract was your soul. There was quite literally nothing I could do about it, no matter how hard I tried.
I only had one soul in my lamp. One soul trapped in a cage for all of eternity. One soul that had failed to uphold his end of the deal.
My hands scrubbed the sides erratically, waiting for the soul to appear.
Nothing.
Not even a wisp of smoke.
Fear strangled me, and I once more rubbed a shaky hand up and down, up and down.
I couldn’t seem to take in enough air. It wasn’t grief, not yet, but a strangling type of fear. It closed off my airways and made me light-headed.
It shouldn’t be possible. No, from what I gathered, it was impossible.
A soul didn’t magically disappear from a Genie’s lamp.
After one more ineffectual scrub down the ice cold sides, I pulled at my magic. Violet tendrils escaped me, snaking to the lamp and encompassing it in a soft embrace. My magic sputtered once before dying out.
It, too, didn’t sense anything or anyone inside of my lamp.
But that was...
I took a breath meant to calm me, but it did little to slow down my rapidly beating heart.
The soul was gone. Disappeared.
If that was the case...
I shook my head, as if fending off dizziness.
If that was the case, Z was going to hate me.
There was no doubt about that. She would hate me once she discovered the truth, once she discovered what I had kept from her.
And the rest of us?
We would be fucked.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Z
There was a certain sound the water made as the boat was steered cleanly out of the basin. I wouldn’t call the boisterous sound soothing. Loud, would be a better description. Almost comforting and hypnotic, a noise that would lull you to sleep. The slightest swoosh of water brushing the edge of the boat.
Why they had boats when the majority of the population could breathe - and were required to at least half a day - underwater, I had no idea. But I wasn’t willing to look a gifted horse in the mouth...or however that saying went.
The castle and “summer home”, as Dair called it, were located on the mainland, a couple hundred miles away from the Capital. From there, it led to an immense body of water, Leapon Ocean. Hundreds of islands freckled the ocean water, all varying in size and wildlife according to Dair.
Bash expertly steered the boat through a narrow canal, the only sound the rippling of water and puttering of the engine.
“I don’t like this,” I whispered tersely. My eyes constantly scanned the horizon. What I was searching for, I couldn’t discern. Something didn’t feel right. The unease prickled the skin on my arms, snaking to my throat and choking me.
I didn’t like being separated from my mates. Not so soon after I met them.
Not so soon after I claimed them.
I didn’t want to think about that, about them, and I once more looked out into the distance.
A tapestry of green surrounded either side of the narrow canal. Tiny dots of yellow adorned the majority of the leaves. The only trees I recognized were palms, spaced intermittently along the waterway. Another one looked like a palm
