Tales of the Djinn: The Guardian (13 page)

Smoke was a terrible insulator for body
heat.

By the time he touched down in her building’s
courtyard, her unconscious body was shuddering.

If he’d thought about it, changing back might
have been difficult. Luckily, he snapped to solid form
automatically. He was shuddering himself, the expenditure of energy
leaving him weakened.

“Joseph,” he bellowed, not caring who heard
him.

Afraid to set Elyse down, he staggered toward
their “garden” apartment’s back entrance. Joseph met him in the
draughty passage that connected outside to in.

“Master!” he cried in alarm.

Later, Arcadius decided, he’d discuss the
importance of Joseph not calling him that.

“Take her,” he said. “You’re warmer than I
am.”

Joseph took her, for once not shy of having a
woman in his arms. “What happened? Were you flying? I didn’t think
we could change form yet.”

“Let’s get her to her apartment. She’s had
enough shocks tonight.”

Arcadius explained the crash as succinctly as
he could, his breath and nerves steadying in the process. Joseph
was ahead of him, carrying Elyse.

“Did you see the driver of the van?” the
servant asked over his shoulder.

“It happened too fast. Afterward, I couldn’t
afford to linger. I heard sirens and didn’t want to be spotted in
my smoke form. I’m not sure who notified the police. I only pray
our driver survived.”

“Human cars have ‘systems’ to call for help,”
Joseph informed him.

They hastened into the lobby and began
climbing the staircase. Joseph handled Elyse’s weight as easily as
Arcadius would have. Perhaps he shouldn’t have found that
noteworthy. Elyse was slight, and Joseph, despite his . . . lack in
one area, was as able-bodied as anyone.

“I assume the airbag helped protect the
chauffeur,” Arcadius said, careful to speak quietly. “The other
driver’s went off too. What sum do you suppose a person charges to
use a vehicle they’re operating as a weapon?”

“I couldn’t guess,” Joseph said. Something
else occurred to him. “What name did you use to hire the
limousine?”

“Cade Smith. I paid cash, which is harder to
trace than credit, but the company will have this address on record
from the pickup.”

“It would be best if we avoided police
questions. Perhaps I can speak to them.”

Joseph meant more than
speak
. He meant
use magical persuasion to fuddle the limo service’s recall. The
spell wouldn’t work unless its subjects were more or less willing,
but hopefully his hundreds could smooth the way. Memories people
were determined to hang onto were more difficult to erase.

Arcadius wondered how determined Elyse would
be to preserve her memory of him transforming. “Are you certain you
have enough power in your reserves? You’ve been expending a lot
lately.”

“I attended two funerals today,” Joseph
admitted. “The deceased were much beloved. The mourners threw off a
lot of grief energy.”

Joseph wouldn’t have harmed anyone by taking
this—aside from the mourners recovering sooner from their sadness.
All the same, feeding at funerals or graveyards was considered
uncouth by their class of djinn. Some humans didn’t want their
tears prematurely dried.

“Under the circumstances,” Arcadius said, “I
won’t scold you about ethics.”

Joseph paused ahead of him on the steps. “We
must take care. This is Elyse’s floor. We don’t want to wake her
neighbor.”

They covered the final distance silently.
Joseph used his universal key to enter Elyse’s apartment. He didn’t
have to, as it turned out. Amazingly, Elyse’s little clutch purse
remained safely tucked in her coat pocket.

Joseph settled her on the couch in the living
room, where Arcadius immediately bundled her in blankets. Elyse
began to stir soon after. She sat up, fought one arm free of the
swaddling surrounding her, and rubbed her forehead. Arcadius sat
next to her on an ottoman. She wasn’t fearful when she looked at
him, though her brow furrowed.

“What happened? Were we in an accident?”

“I’m afraid so,” he said, wondering how fuzzy
her recall was. Traumatic events could cause short-term memory
loss. “Another car hit the limousine. We were thrown clear when it
rolled. Do you feel all right? You seemed unhurt, so I didn’t take
you to the hospital.”

Her nose wrinkled. “I passed out?”

“From shock, I believe. If you feel dizzy or
nauseous . . .”

“No. Just really cold.”

“Joseph is running you a hot shower.”

“Joseph is.”

“When you didn’t wake up, I was worried,” he
confessed. “I summoned him to assist.”

She smiled, her expression still unsure. “Is
our driver all right?”

“Banged up but okay,” he said, praying this
was true.

Elyse rubbed her forehead dazedly. “I was
having the strangest dream. Something about the Chrysler Building
and flying through the air.”

“Shock is a funny thing.”

Joseph returned to the living room. With one
swift glance, he registered the fact that Elyse seemed comfortable
with Arcadius—as she’d hardly be if she remembered him changing.
“The water should be the right temperature now.”

“Joseph,” Elyse said, drawing the servant’s
gaze to her. “Thank you so much. You’re a truly considerate
man.”

Joseph’s cheeks went half a shade darker.
“I’m honored to be at your service.”

As far as Arcadius could tell, the bow he
offered before he left was sincerely respectful.

~

A couple pieces of Elyse’s brain felt like
they were missing. Her dream about the Chrysler Building had been
strange for more reasons than the flying. Instead of lights to warn
off planes, the skyscraper’s iconic crown had sported two glowing
blue gray eyes—the same blue gray that made Arcadius’s visage so
amazing. That had to be a Freudian message. Probably she shouldn’t
mention it. Definitely she shouldn’t pay too much attention to him
sitting as close to her as he was. His knee touched the couch, his
dark gray trousers shaped by the strong muscles of his thighs. She
almost
let her gaze slide higher. Maybe the sight of
his
Chrysler Building would warm her up.

Really, if you thought about it, her libido’s
ability to be turned on by him so soon after passing out was
impressive.

“So,” she said. “I’m just gonna take that
shower.”

She still had her coat on, plus the blankets
he’d thrown around her to warm her up. Given all that wrapping, she
couldn’t stand without help. Worse, her hands shook too much to
unbutton the coat herself.

“Sheesh,” she said as Arcadius undid her like
a kid.

On the bright side, the clenching of his jaw
when her snug red dress reappeared was satisfying—even if her sense
of payback was short-lived.

Being freed from the extra weight left her
lightheaded. Arcadius caught her hand as she swayed.

“Sorry,” she said automatically.

He shook his head in amusement. “I’ll help
you walk. I don’t want you going lights out again.”

She let him assist her, inescapably glad the
bathroom was in good order. This was the only part of the apartment
that was all her. She’d done the renovation after her father’s
death but pre-David, stealing a less-used closet to expand the
space. The fittings were white, black, and satin nickel: all
classic turn of the century reproductions except for a drop-dead
luxurious steam shower.

That sleek glass cylinder could have doubled
as a transporter pad on the Enterprise.

Thanks to Joseph’s consideration, vaporous
white clouds rolled up in it. At the sight of those, an
inexplicable shiver gripped Elyse. Memory teased her. She heard the
icy wind roaring all around her and felt strong arms, their muscles
real but not quite solid.

The fragments eluded her. She’d forgotten
something important.

“I’ll handle it from here,” she said to
Arcadius.

He had one hand under her elbow. “You’re
sure?”

“Absolutely. Now give a lady some
privacy.”

To Elyse’s relief, he couldn’t refuse this
request. She undressed slower than usual but without falling.
Curiously, though she’d been in an accident, she didn’t notice a
single bruise.

The limo’s roll must have thrown her onto a
featherbed.

That was weird, but not something she could
figure out right then. She checked the temperature Joseph had set
for the shower, pursed her lips on a silent whistle, and turned it
down. Arcadius’s friend must like being boiled. She’d rather not
faint a second time, thank you.

A tap sounded on the door, loud enough to
hear but still polite. “I’m not opening this,” Arcadius said. “Just
call out that you’re still alive.”

Maybe what happened to her next could be
explained as a reaction to escaping death. Maybe it was her
tenant’s low sexy voice. Whatever the cause, arousal crashed
through her body in an unstoppable rolling wave. The effect was his
kiss times ten. Her pussy clenched hard enough to ache, her nipples
contracting, her palms itching to stroke him. Every inch of her
skin woke up simultaneously. Physically, she lusted after Arcadius.
Whether the rest of her was ready didn’t seem to matter.

Then again, if her subconscious was lending
his eyes to one of the city’s biggest phallic symbols, her mind
might be more decided than she believed.

“Elyse?” Arcadius asked through the bathroom
door.

“I’m alive,” she said. Because she was her,
she cogitated a couple more heartbeats. “You
could
come in.
You know, make sure I don’t drop the soap and slip.”

She’d taken him by surprise. There was a
weighted pause, during which Elyse’s desire to grin fought with her
impulse to grab a towel and cover her nakedness. The latter urge
she managed to control. The crystal knob to the bathroom
turned.

“Okay,” Arcadius said. “I’m coming in.”

He was in shirtsleeves, his cuffs rolled up
like they’d been at dinner. It was a testament to how well that
shirt hugged his muscular chest and shoulders that, for a second,
she forgot she was starkers.

His eyes sliding down her reminded her.

“Whew,” he said, not so much comment as
reaction. His gaze stopped at her feet and made a slo-oww reverse
trip. He wet his lips when he reached her breasts, no amount of
gentlemanliness able to prevent him from lingering there. His
breath rushed out. He seemed to have trouble forcing his eyes to
continue on to hers. “That’s a prettier sight than I imagined.”

Elyse hadn’t forgotten how to trade teases
with a man. “In that case, I hope you imagined something good.”

To her surprise, Arcadius blushed. He
had
been thinking about her—and in some way that embarrassed
him. That was flattering, and a boost to her confidence.

“There is one problem.” She drew a fingertip
up and down between her breasts. Her nipples grew even harder from
the knowledge that he saw them.

Arcadius swallowed, his eyes following her
motion. “There is?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, pleased with him. Since
his gaze was occupied, she finally let hers travel to the crotch of
his nice trousers. Now that was a national landmark! The ridge that
pushed out his zipper was large enough to steal her breath, maybe
large enough to recommend caution. Elyse ignored the warning. “The
problem is you’re incredibly overdressed.”

He dragged his attention up to her face
again. Another man would have laughed, but perhaps he was too wound
up. His expression was intense: dark brows lowered, chalcedony eyes
hot enough to set her ablaze. “I’d be happy to address that
oversight.”

“Could you do it slowly?” she asked. “I’ve
been imagining you naked too . . .”

~

She wanted him to do it
slowly
? Did
she know the effect she’d had on him? Djinn loved overdoing
decoration. The more the better was their aesthetic. Elyse’s
unclothed form was simple and perfect. Everything a woman required
for beauty she possessed. Her waist was slender, her hips curving
out from it just so. He’d already admired her legs in her jeans,
but their naked paleness, their shape and their long muscles, even
her knees somehow undid him. He wanted to lay her down and press
them apart as he pushed his cock into her. Her triangle of curls
invited petting. Her breasts . . .

His breath caught a bit when he gazed at
them.

They looked so soft, so delicate and creamy
mounded on her ribcage. Their slight size made him feel both
protective and ravenous. His fingers curled with longing to cup
what weight they had toward his lips. Those tight nipples needed
kissing, right on their rosy tips.

Loveliness like Elyse’s could crack the
heart.

He shook himself. He was being ridiculous.
Brand new hormones at work, no doubt.

“Your wish is my command,” he said
huskily.

She liked that. She bit her lip as he started
undoing shirt buttons. One by one, he thumbed the disks from their
holes. He opened the pale blue shirt all the way to his belt.

“Pull the tails from your pants,” she
said.

He obeyed, able then to free his arms and
toss the garment behind him. Elyse’s gaze traveled up his hairy
chest and across his shoulders. He guessed she enjoyed what she
saw. Her fingertips pressed her palms like his had when he looked
at her.

“Belt,” she said throatily.

Steam from the shower was beginning to fog
the room. That couldn’t explain why his pulse suddenly beat harder
and his groin flashed hot. He pulled the tongue of the belt through
the buckle, then freed the metal rod from the hole. Slowly, letting
the leather hiss around his waist, he dragged the length of it
through the loops.

When that was done, he wound the belt around
one palm. The feel of that strip of hide circling his hand, of her
gaze magnetized by everything he did, hardened him even more. Her
eyes dipped to his cloaked erection, measuring it the way women do.
He didn’t mind then that he was bigger than before. Her breath came
faster and his did too.