Page 43 of Bewitched By the Djinn
“I don’t understand why.” His brows are drawn, gaze troubled. “Ifrits would benefit from my family’s disappearance. Keeping Helen and me stuck here, away from Aetheria, should be in their best interest. Their land is all parched desert and scorched volcanic mountains. They have coveted the magic and lush life of my kingdom for centuries, trying to take over, attacking my people at every opportunity. It’s why Helen’s wedding was so important, uniting us against a common enemy, adding to our armies.”
“Maybe they want you for ransom.” I finish with the glue and put the top back on the bottle. “Or to torture? Are they the types to shake people down for... whatever?”
Bennet’s expression is blank, but foreign emotions brush at the edge of my senses—an echo of confusion, faint but real. I reach for the shield, but when I check, it’s perfectly intact. No stray emotions leaking through.
Strange. I’ll have to ask him later if there is something he’s not saying.
Mimi pours steaming liquid from the kettle into three cups waiting with tea bags. “Well. That’s just wonderful. Assassins made of shadow.”
I blow on Bennet’s hand and then motion him toward the table. “Don’t touch anything until the glue dries.”
Bennet slides into a chair, resting his arms on the table, keeping his injury up.
Mimi sits opposite, fingers laced around her mug.
I grab the remaining two cups from the counter, setting them down in front of us and taking the chair next to Bennet. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”
He reaches for the mug with his good hand. “I trained. Learned with the guards in the castle. After what happened to my parents, I wanted to be able to protect my sister.”
A trickle of admiration seeps through me. He did it for his sister.
“Thank you.” I reach over and rest my hand lightly on his wrist. “For protecting me.”
His skin is warm beneath my fingers. A quiet moment lingers between us.
Then Mimi clears her throat, and I yank my hand back, heat creeping up my neck.
One corner of his mouth tilts up. “You’re welcome.”
I latch on to the next thought that pops into my head, before Mimi can make a comment about me needing to get laid again. “There’s more. I don’t know if it’s relevant, but yesterday, when I was walking home with the lamp, I felt like something was following me.” I hesitate. “I didn’t see anything, though, so maybe it was nothing.”
Mimi blows on her tea and takes a slow sip. “You mentioned that. It was after you bought the lamp.”
“Yes.”
What does it mean? Maybe nothing. Maybe something. I rub my temple, the pressure doing little to ease the nagging itch in my chest.
I change the subject. “How was Jackie today?”
Mimi sighs. “It was a hard day.”
“What happened?”
“She was okay in the morning, but as the day went on, she kind of faded.” Her fingers clench into a fist against the table. “By bedtime, I had to practically carry her up the stairs.”
A flicker of unease crawls through me. “Are you okay? You didn’t hurt yourself getting her up the stairs, did you?”
She waves a hand. “I’m fine. My arthritis was acting up this morning, but moving around got the juices flowing. I’m barely feeling it now. Tell me what happened with the vamp, before the ifrit attack.”
I go through everything—our encounter with Eddie, the deal we struck, unblocking our magic—minus the accompanying wild emotions—and what we learned about the swamp witches. As I talk, Mimi listens intently, her fingers curled around her tea mug, her expression unreadable. “The swamp witches. Yes. I’ve heard of them.”
“You have?”
Mimi taps her fingers against her mug. “A friend of mine went to them once. Years ago. Her and her husband were having trouble conceiving, and she was desperate.”
“And they helped?”
“She had a baby a year later.” Mimi shrugs. “Who knows if it was them or pure luck? But she believed it.”
