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Authors: Candice Gilmer

Tags: #Fairies;Banshees;Paranormal Romance;Candice Gilmer;Mermaids;Merrow;Genies;Djinn;Comedy

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BOOK: Saving Her Destiny
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Chapter Twenty

Thursday morning

Cara ran her hands over the fabrics she wore. The head scarf, done in a soft turquoise pattern, highlighted the turquoise trim in the outer dress. It felt very strange to be in the desert, draped in so many layers of fabric.

“Thank you for this…uh, what is this called again?” Cara asked Malik as she stroked the head scarf. He'd been nice enough to give her something to wear, since she didn't want to be naked in this djinn's lair. Hidden in a cave, the lair went on for at least a good mile, layers of rock that sort of gradually went down into the earth. The stone glittered with all sorts of veins of gems, giving the walls a sparkle.

The furnishings were elaborate carvings, some covered in gold. She didn't want to think that some of the shiny furniture could be pure gold, but she wouldn't doubt it. Malik moved through the items as though they were nothing but trinkets, yet Cara knew she'd live her whole life and never have any furnishings this expensive in her home.

It was like living in a museum.

“The head scarf is a hijab,” Malik said as he poured himself a drink, his blue legs covered in a pair of flowing pants. He didn't bother to wear a shirt.

While Cara didn't particularly find him attractive, it was still hard to take her eyes off the blue skin and how the light caught his physique. Or maybe that was how the shadows painted the lines of his muscles.

Either or. It was unusual to say the least. His black hair hung to his shoulders, not exactly wavy, but not straight either.

Bed head, almost. Sexy bed head.

Her mind darted to some acquaintances, wondering if any of her friends would have been attracted. She didn't find him that handsome—the hair turned her off.

She liked short hair.

Like Duncan
.

Just thinking of him made her smile. His face, his eyes, all of it brought a light inside her. Not to mention his touch—he'd been so amazing with her, it had brought tears to her eyes. Sure, she'd fantasized about being with him over the years—what girl wouldn't? He was hot. But she'd never actually expected to be with him.

“That is a lovely smile,” Malik said, jarring her out of her thoughts. He came over to her and tipped his head to the side.

“I was just remembering.”

“Good things, I assume.”

Her cheeks warmed. “Yes,” she whispered.

He raised an eyebrow, a knowing grin on his face. “How are you feeling, little screamer?”

“Finally feeling better,” she said as she started to rise from the elaborate couch he'd laid her on. Though it had more to do with getting away from the creepy little carvings in the wooden edges than actually moving.

“Be careful. Your strength is still wiped out.”

Well, that wasn't too far from the truth
, Cara thought. She still felt like she'd been run over by a truck. “I should contact my family. They're probably worried.”

How many days had it been? Two? Three? She'd slept for at least a day, maybe longer after Malik brought her to his cavernous home. He would bring her out to the couch to get her out of bed, but she'd wind up nodding off again.

In her dreams, though, it would be Duncan who carried her around. Duncan who took care of her.

But how come he hadn't found her yet?

“Did anyone come for me today?” she asked Malik.

“Not today. Nor yesterday. Nor the day before that.” He leaned back in his chair. “You seem certain that someone would look for you. Why?”

“Because.” She ran her hand over the fabric. “I'm a fairy in distress.”

“You do not seem too distressed to me. You're lounging around my cave like you belong here.”

She looked around at the glittery cave walls. “I don't belong here.”

Where was Duncan? Shouldn't he be out there looking for her? She should contact him, let him know she was okay.

Or did he think she was dead? That she'd died?

She couldn't imagine what he must have seen—when that scream ripped her away from him, she tried reaching for him. She thought she saw him coming after her, but that might have been wishful thinking.

After all, that was a powerful scream—stronger than anything she'd ever experienced, or heard of, for that matter.

She could have killed him…

Her stomach started to roil. What had happened to him? Had he been hurt? Or worse? Was he lying in the dunes himself, dead because of her?

She covered her mouth, afraid she'd throw up.

Malik brought her a cup of tea. “Your stomach upset?”

“I just…” She met his gaze as she accepted the tea. “I wasn't alone in the desert before the storm. I'm afraid of, well, what happened to my friend.” Cara sniffed the brew. It wasn't Fairy Tea, but it did smell good.

“There was no one else in the desert,” Malik said as he stirred his own tea.

“You looked?” She sipped the tea.

He smiled. “Whoever you were with left.”

The words stabbed her hard, and she choked on the liquid. Malik watched her, but he didn't move.

Didn't seem to realize how painfully hard those words hit her.

Had he? Had Duncan left? Not even bothering to look for her? Just assumed she was gone?

The tea didn't set well in her stomach. “I need to contact my family.” And Duncan. Tell him that she was okay.

But if he left her…

That was the thing he'd said he would never do.

Her head started to hurt, but not from what happened. From the warring emotions inside her.

“You can soon,” he said. “I find it very interesting, though, to know what a little screamer like you is doing out here, in the middle of the desert.”

She took a few deep breaths as she tried another sip of tea. “A long story.”

“I like long stories.” He crossed his legs and rested them on the coffee table that separated them. “Tell me yours.”

“What would it hurt now?” Cara muttered and began the tale of how she wound up in the desert and hoped it was enough to convince the djinn to still help her.

Duncan should have found her by now.

And if Duncan wasn't looking for her, then this djinn was her only hope to get back to Avalon.

When she finished, Malik stared at her, like he wasn't sure what to believe.

“I speak the truth,” Cara finally said. Certain details, of course, were left out. Like the ones about how important Duncan was to her.

And how important she assumed she was to him.

But if he'd left her here…

Maybe she wasn't that important after all. After what they'd been through—what they'd shared—she didn't want to believe that he would just abandon her in the desert to die.

Or assume that she was dead and not bother looking for her.

Could she have been wrong? Misled somehow?

Did he not want to be with her? Is that why he wasn't looking for her? Because surely he would have found her by now if he'd been looking. They were just in a cave—it wasn't as though they were hiding. It was just this djinn's home.

She wanted to be with him. Of that she had no doubt—she could never not be with him again, it would destroy her. She loved him.

With everything she was—she gave him all she had. Surely with all his magic, he could find her, like he had before. Why wasn't he out there, searching? There were spells he could wield, she'd seen him do it.

He was FID. His magic was limitless, wasn't it? He would have found her by now.

Yet he hadn't come.

Malik cleared his throat. “I believe you. And we had a bargain. I will help you.” He steepled his fingers together and pressed them to his lip.

The way he looked at her made her shiver.

Something wasn't right.

She could feel it.

But what, she had no idea. She took a sip of the tea. “What do you get out of this?” That was the big question—what in the world could she, a little banshee, do for a djinn? After all, they were all-powerful beings. There were very few restrictions on djinn magic—they couldn't make anyone fall in love, bring people back from the dead, or go back in time—but that was about it.

Cara, on the other hand, had such limited powers. What could he possibly need from her?

“That is my boon. I do not have to know right now. I may need you in a year or two. Or a decade. Or I may not need you at all.”

“So I'll just be in your pocket?” Cara asked.

He smiled. “When you accept a deal with a djinn, not only are you obligated to it, your family is obligated to it. Until it is satisfied, your family is obligated to me.”

She blinked. Oh
shit
. “You could have mentioned that when I agreed to accept your help.”

“It is common knowledge.”

“Maybe for some. I never was going to leave the island. I never studied djinn.” And the crux of it all hit her hard. She knew her lot in life, and knew she'd never be able to travel the world, so she didn't bother paying much attention to what happened outside of Avalon. Even now, her job on Avalon was at the magistrate's office, helping to make sure that things on the island ran smoothly.

With no time planned out for her to travel, to see the world, the one thing she'd wanted to do her entire life.

To just, well, not be there…

He looked her up and down. “You are not one blessed with the gift of foresight, then.”

She snorted. “Nope. I mean, even my own palm—” She held up her hand, looking at the lines on her palm.

Had the lines changed?

It seemed that one line looked longer, that where the two lines intersected seemed in a different spot. Was it possible?

Had her future been changed? For so long, the converged lines were very near the edge, and now they weren't. They were more to the center, like her life had been altered.

Her path changed.

What did that mean?

Before she realized it, Malik took her hand. “You have a lovely lifeline. Long and strong.” He met her gaze with his almost black eyes. “Plenty of time to see the world. Why would you ever think you would never leave the island?”

“Because my screams are bound to the Merrow Kingdom. I have no reason to leave.” Nor, did it seem, she had a reason to return.

If Malik was correct, and no one was looking for her…

If they thought—if Duncan thought her dead, he'd likely told her family the same thing.

It was like her life had suddenly been reset—a chance to start over, to do things differently.

“And why would you need a reason?” He made a gesture. “You are here now, in the middle of the desert, albeit, in my beautiful protected home, but you are not on Avalon. And you have not exploded. Why would you think you could not leave?”

This gave Cara pause.

Why would she think she could not leave?

Because all her life, she knew she needed to stay close to Avalon, to the merrow, just in case…

“If I get a scream…”

“Then you go back,” Malik said. “There is no reason you cannot travel the world and see all that you desire.” His gaze narrowed on her. “Unless you choose not to.”

“What if I want to?” Cara whispered, a binge of guilt in her gut at wanting to travel—to run away from all her responsibilities.

Not to mention her confusing feelings about Duncan. Because now that she'd had him, she'd want more. She knew that. But she couldn't possibly have him—after all, he was a fairy. He had years left on his contract, decades, even. If she waited until he retired, she'd be an old lady. Or worse, dead.

Unless he already thought she was dead…

And if she couldn't be with him and see the world…

Malik raised an eyebrow. “I can show you everything.” He held out his hand.

Cara stared at his outstretched hand. Would she ever have a chance like this again? To see the world—really see it—not in pictures?

Not be bound by her screams? Or bound by anything at all? If everyone thought she was dead, then she could do whatever she wanted. Never mind the longing for Duncan, and the torrent of emotions from the idea that, while he'd said he'd never leave her, he had done just that.

She knew not what she should do.

But at the same time, she did know what she could do.

She accepted the djinn's hand.

Chapter Twenty-One

Thursday afternoon

“What in the world were you thinking, bringing a human to Ava's trial?” Christy bopped Duncan upside the head. He'd returned Ava's charge, Jason, back to his home, and sentence had been pronounced for Ava.

It wasn't the outcome Duncan had been hoping for. Needless to say, his head hadn't been feeling great
before
his sister-in-law hit him.

“Ouch!” He rubbed his head. And not only was his sister-in-law physically hitting him, her thoughts were just as scrambled, and twice as angry as anything she actually said.

And she seemed to forget on occasion that he was such a strong telepath.

“Rein in your thoughts…”
He telepathically told his sister in law.

Her expression stilled, then her eyes took on a more furious expression. “I'm not about to!” Christy fired back.

“You're giving me a headache,” Duncan replied.

“With reason,” Ewan, Duncan's brother said. His thoughts weren't much better. Any other time, Duncan might marvel how their minds worked the same. Right now, it was like being hit with a double-barreled gun, barraging him with bullets of thoughts that made him mad.

“What was the point of that? Ava's now locked up on house arrest, and will never see him again. If you had a point, I think the Council missed it.” Ewan's wings flicked as he paced around the living room of the couple's home. Today, it was decorated in TV-perfect living—probably inspired by a magazine.

Duncan leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs. “I thought… I thought if they saw how much they loved each other, that maybe, at the worst, they'd banish Ava to the human world, let her live out her days with Jason. If the Council could see the love, they'd be okay with everything.”

That had been his plan—let them profess their love before the Council—not just with their words, but through their energy.

It had almost worked.

Almost.

“Well, you thought wrong,” Christy said.

He glared at his sister-in-law. “I'm aware of that,
now
.” And what he was going to do about it, he wasn't sure.

If there
was
anything Duncan could do at this point. Unfortunately failure sank in his gut like bad chicken on a buffet.

“There has to be something.” Christy fluttered her blue wings and lifted off the ground. “Some ancient clause. A case file. Something.” She paced about the room. “Because I'm not about to lose my retirement because of this trio of charges not being completed. I've worked on my own charge, Lilly's in the hospital, and now this.” She rubbed her head. “This is not how my last case was supposed to go.” She ran her hands through her hair. “It was just supposed to be this easy, simple, fun little challenge. Let's take on men instead of women. Why not, how could it possibly go wrong? What was I thinking?”

Her husband came to her side and rubbed her shoulders.

“I don't know what else can be done, Christy,” Duncan said. “The Council made their decision. This isn't the human world with lawyers and countless appeals. When a decision is made, it's done. End of story.”

“Well, you'd better find something,” Christy said.

Duncan fisted his hair—it was safer than punching things. “If I knew how to fix the world, believe me, I'd do it. Ava's not the only case I've got going.”

He turned and headed for the door. Maybe some air would make him feel better. Away from his family.

He walked out the back door, where another picture perfect scene played out—a garden, filled with bright colored flowers, outlining a curved path. He took a few steps, pausing in front of a huge collection of perfectly bloomed pink and purple gladiolas.

Cara would love these. She loved flowers and colors…

A crunching on the gravel path made him turn.

Ewan had followed him. “What is the matter with you, brother? You look like hell.”

There was the qualifying question. What was the matter with him? Duncan had been in the FID for a half a century, and he'd been good at what he did. He didn't screw up. It fit him far better than any other branch of Fairy work.

Yet here he was, screwing up everything.

Maybe Christy was on the right track. Maybe it was time for him to walk away. Get a house on a beach and just not be
here
anymore. He'd screwed up Ava's life. And he couldn't find Cara.

And if he couldn't find Cara, then what was the point?

“A lot of stuff right now.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Ewan asked.

Duncan shook his head. How did he explain to his brother had he not only screwed up his wife's last trio before retirement, but he'd lost the only girl he'd ever really loved?

Yeah, it was definitely time to walk away. Be a fisherman or that scary hermit on Avalon—they didn't have one of those did they? The one that kids dared each other to ring the doorbell. Yeah. He could do that.

Because when O'Leary got done with him, it would be ugly. Might as well cut it off now—get out before it got bad.

“I'm taking retirement. I'm done.”

He started walking around the side of the house, with each step, the words cemented in his mind as the right path.

To get away before he screwed someone else's work—or life—up. He'd fucked up everything in the last week.

“Wait, no, stop!” Christy burst through the nearby door and tried to drag him back into the house. She put her hand over his mouth.

“No,” he said through her fingers and tried to shake his head from her grip. “I'm done. I'm finished. I can't do this.” He shook off the petite fairy, trying to pull away. In his mind, he could hear his brother and sister-in-law's thoughts. They rambled around inside him. Fast and quick, but he caught every one.

Mental breakdown
seemed to be the most prevalent.

However, Ewan was stronger than his little wife, and he appeared on the other side, blocking his path.

“Come on, brother, let's talk about this.”

“No, I don't need your pity, or you talking me out of this. It's the best way.” He wouldn't do this again.

He couldn't.

“This is just the emotions talking,” Christy said.

“I'm not crazy. I can't do this anymore. I want to be mortal. I want to go back to a human life and live out my days. I don't want this.” He rubbed his head. “I don't want to hear thoughts anymore. I don't want to save fairies in distress. I can't do this. The FID has a very low tolerance for failure anyway. It's just a matter of time.”

“Surely they won't kick you out for one bad case?” Christy asked.

“Two.”

“Two?” both Ewan and Christy said.

“I was supposed to save a missing banshee and instead, Cara's gone.” Saying the words to someone who didn't know anything about the case felt like a stab in the gut. He thought he might actually throw up.

“Oh Duncan, I'm sorry,” Christy said. “What happened?”

He opened his mouth to give the official report and found himself telling them everything. Every detail, including what happened in the desert. The unabridged version.

Tears poured down Christy's face as he spoke, and he felt his own tears creeping out of his eyes.

He wiped his face, sniffed, and tried to cover up the crying. “Cara was my best friend. She was…is…”

Christy wiped her face. “Why didn't you tell us about her? We could have invited her to a picnic or something.”

“Because she's banshee. Ages like a human. I've known her since she was fifteen. She's just…she's gone. And there's no reason. If she was dead, we'd have, well, there'd be evidence, some way to bring closure. If she's alive, we can't find her anywhere.”

“Magic,” Christy whispered.

“What?” Duncan asked.

“Magic. If she's unable to be found, even by you, then she's being shielded by magic. You should know this, Duncan.” Christy glared at him.

“But who would be hiding a banshee? And why?” Ewan asked.

“You were in the desert, right?” Christy asked.

Duncan nodded.

“So you go ask the desert dwellers. There's still djinn out there, isn't there?” Christy glanced at her husband, a Tooth Fairy, who flew all over the world.

“There's a settlement of them, I think…” Ewan materialized a map and highlighted an area not very far from where Duncan and Cara had been. “Yes, there they are. I cannot remember the name of their leader; I haven't been there in a long while,” Ewan said.

Duncan blinked. He'd been so obsessed about finding evidence of where Cara had gone, he didn't think about checking the locals to see if they had seen her.

“I'll be back,” Duncan said and off he flew.

Did he expect to find her? Not a chance.

But maybe someone knew something. It was a start, anyway.

Walking into a djinn settlement wasn't exactly what Duncan wanted to do, but it seemed the best chance to see if he could find Cara. If one of the djinn had brought her here, well, maybe he could find her.

He had to find her.

He couldn't fail again.

To any passerby human, the djinn colony wouldn't be visible—camouflaged by a cloaking spell to anyone who wasn't magical. But to Duncan, it stuck out like a shining golden oasis in the middle of the desert. It was far enough off the path of Cara's storm's trajectory, he hadn't considered checking here before.

But standing before the gates, he wanted to kick himself for not thinking of it at all.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Reese, his friend from the FID, asked him.

Duncan nodded. “You got a better one?”

Reese shook his head. He'd been happy to come with Duncan, if only as backup, while he talked to the djinn. Djinn, hard to predict, might welcome him, or they might blow him into dust. It depended on their mood.

They approached the gate, and before they got too close, the sand started to swirl and three green djinn appeared, with huge swords, their curved blades looking particularly menacing. The trio of djinn surrounded them, pointing their very large weapons at Duncan and Reese.

“We come in peace,” Reese said, holding up his hands.

“We don't accept visitors,” one said, slashing at him with his sword. “What brings you here?”

“We come from the FID unit, searching for a lost banshee,” Duncan said. “We only wish to find her.”

“We have no banshee,” one snarled and gestured with his sword. “And if we did…” His menacing snarl said enough.

Duncan materialized his wand, ready to fight. Reese followed suit.

The gates behind the guards began to open.

“That is enough.” Another djinn, who wore a sash of gold and red that marked him as a clan leader appeared. “These fairies mean us no harm.” He approached Duncan and Reese. “I am Lorsan, the leader here. Did I hear you correctly? You are searching for a banshee?”

Duncan nodded, lowering his wand, but not yet putting it away. “She was lost here in the desert, her scream carrying her in a sandstorm, and we are trying to track her down.”

“The desert is not a kind place to mostly humans,” he said. “And a banshee is, well, mostly human.”

“Which is why we are here.”

“Hmm,” he said as he circled the two of them. “One of your people came here just a few days ago, and I will only tell you what I told him.”

“Who was here?” Duncan asked, shocked at the news. Why didn't anyone tell him this? It was his case, after all.

The djinn continued, “A rather portly fellow. O'Leary. He was searching for a banshee as well. I assume you seek the same one?”

Duncan stared. O'Leary hadn't said anything about going into the field himself, looking for Cara. Of course, unless he found her, why would he say anything?

Duncan glanced at Reese, hearing his thoughts.

“When was the last time O'Leary did any field work?”

Duncan had the same question.

“We do,” Duncan said to the djinn.

“I still have not seen any banshee, and none of my djinn have reported finding one in the desert. If we come across any banshee, we will certainly contact the FID.”

Duncan nodded. “Do you mind if we look around?”

The djinn smiled. “Yes. I do mind.” His relaxed posture disappeared and with a shift of his shoulders, he no longer looked friendly.

Which only got Duncan's hackles up. “What are you hiding?” he asked as he stretched with his telepathy.

Unfortunately, Duncan got nothing more than vague sensations of feelings—no concrete thoughts. And the vague sense was more of irritation and general frustration. Nothing hinted to Lorsan actually trying to bury anything from them.

“I hide nothing. I do not like FID in my home without cause.”

“We have cause. We are trying to find a banshee,” Duncan said, clenching his fists.

Reese stepped forward. “If the girl's injured, we'd like to get her back to her people for medical attention. She was, shall we say, under duress when she released her scream.”

“So I saw,” the djinn said. “Or at least, I saw the sandstorm.”

Duncan jerked. “What did you do with her?”

“I did nothing. Nor did I have any desire to. I had no knowledge the storm was created by a banshee until your companion mentioned it—she must be quite powerful to produce that kind of response. That sort of energy can be very sought after.”

Duncan did not like where this was going. “And who would want that sort of energy?”

“There are many who value that kind of energy. Perhaps you should consult your rule book and see.”

Duncan grabbed the djinn's shoulders. “Where is she? Where is Cara?”

Like dry sand, the djinn disappeared from his grip, only to reappear as if being poured into a mold, and returning to his normal golden state.

BOOK: Saving Her Destiny
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