Jack and Djinn (The Houri Legends, #1)(33)

Miriam took a step forward, and her footstep shook the earth as if she were a giant looming a hundred feet high. She opened her mouth to speak, to tell Ben to leave, but a gout of flame burst from her like dragon breath, forcing Ben backward to the ground.

“What the f*ck are you?” she heard him ask.

“I’m over you, Ben, that’s what I am,” she answered, her voice echoing like thunder and tolling like a bell. She stepped toward him once more, and felt the asphalt beneath her feet crack and crunch with each touch of her foot. “If I see you again, I’ll kill you. I’ll burn you to a crisp.”

Terrified, Ben scrambled to his feet, climbed into his car, and drove away, the terror still stark in his eyes as he looked back in the rearview mirror.

Miriam turned to face Jack, who was now on his feet.

“Are you afraid, Jack?” She was prepared for him to run as well, but what she saw in his eyes nearly extinguished her.

“No,” came his whispered answer.

Jack lifted a hand, hesitant, as if testing the heat. A step forward, and he was close enough that the fire should have consumed him, but, impossibly, it didn’t. The flames were licking at him, but he remained unburned.

She felt her magic arcing between them, saw it flowing around him, protecting him. He stepped closer to her, eyes shining with wonder. His hands rested on her waist, where they fit so perfectly; she felt his touch as soft and familiar as ever. She was kissing him, feeling the fire that was her essence washing through him, and he was gasping for breath, looking into her soul. She saw her own eyes reflected in his, glowing and flickering. His palms explored her body, pushing her even hotter, if that was possible.

“You’re you,” Jack said. It was cryptic, but she heard the meaning beneath the words.

“I don’t know what I am, though,” she whispered. It was true.

“Me, neither,” Jack said, and his eyes showed curiosity, and a little fear, but even more love. Love that didn’t scare her. “But I know who you are. You’re Miriam. And you belong to me.”

She wrapped her arms around him, reveling in the joy of belonging.

She thought of home, her home, her apartment. She felt the universe shift, tilt, felt something cold wash over her as she clung to Jack, inhaling his familiar scent. She felt power leaching out of her, tendrils of magic threading through her and touching the fabric of the universe around them; tilt and shift and cold and heat and fire and rain, all mixed and muddled, and then the rain vanished abruptly and she smelled home. Her eyes opened, and she saw her couch, tattered and ancient, saw her tiny TV, the small glass-and-brass coffee table.

Miriam didn’t know how, but somehow they’d been transported instantly from the side of the road to her apartment. The magic inside her had taken over again, as she had wished. It had taken her home where she wanted to be, and it had brought Jack with her.

Jack reared back, his hands still on her waist, staring at her with a smile. He was waiting. She knew what he was waiting for: permission. Miriam breathed deep, closed her eyes, and searched her heart for reservations, for fear, for hesitation, and she found none, only desire.

Jack kissed her neck, slipped his hands under the bottom hem of her shirt, a habit of his she was growing to anticipate every time he put his hands on her waist.

Miriam didn’t answer, at least not in words. She pulled away from him, led him by the hand to her bedroom, and then closed the door behind them. Her heart was pounding against her ribs: She had never, ever let anyone into her bedroom. Not Nick, or Ben, or anyone. Her bedroom was a sanctum, a place where she could let down her walls and just be herself. Now here was Jack, in her bedroom. He had gotten inside her walls, both physical and metaphorical, and she wasn’t sure how he’d managed it, but she was glad he had.

“You’re trembling. What’s wrong?” Jack seemed to be attuned to every small detail, to every change in her mood.

Miriam wasn’t sure how to answer. “I—it’s nothing.”

“No, it’s not. Are you nervous? We don’t have to do this, you know. I thought you wanted to, but if you’re not ready—”

“No! It’s not that. I want this. God, I do. It’s just that—” She cut herself off, laughing in embarrassment. “It’s stupid. I’ve never let anyone in my room before. I mean, like, no one. Ever.”

“Not even your parents?” It seemed like an innocent question, but it reminded Miriam that Jack knew nothing about her. The one thing about Ben was that he knew it all. She didn’t have to explain her past to him. He knew all about her parents. That might have been part of why Miriam was so hesitant to start anything with Jack: She didn’t want to have to explain her life story.

“My parents are both gone, Jack. It’s a long story.” Miriam hated how much of a non-answer that was.

“I’ve got time.” Jack sat down on the bed next to her, switching from passion to empathy with a speed that amazed her.

“Well, the short version is this,” Miriam said. “My dad died of a heart attack when I was eleven, and my mom left when I was sixteen.”

“Okay, so what’s the long version?”

So Miriam told Jack about her mother’s abrupt departure, living with Yanira, getting her first job, her first apartment. Nick. Waking up with a knife to her throat. Meeting Ben and thinking he was different.