One Wish Away by Ingrid Seymour

Author:Ingrid Seymour [Seymour, Ingrid]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Romance, Young Adult
ISBN: 9780991093458
Google: yHWxDQEACAAJ
Amazon: B01MSJCHMO
Barnesnoble: B01MSJCHMO
Goodreads: 32812909
Publisher: PenDreams
Published: 2016-11-22T06:00:00+00:00

19

“W-what are you doing?” My own words choked me. I pulled my hand away from Faris’s mouth and laid it on my thumping chest. A kiss, a simple brush of full lips on my open palm and I felt weak, sweaty, trapped in this impossibly small car.

After Dad’s revelation about Mom, I didn’t know how to deal with this surge of feelings. I’d done better with black panthers and trucks exploding through doors. A way out, I needed a way out of this awful, awful closeness. My brain reeled for something to end the angst.

“Brother?” I blurted out, confusion morphing into resentment, but of what I didn’t know. “Why did he call you brother? And what was that about being children? Djinn aren’t ever children, are they? Y’all are like . . . angels or friggin’ demons is more like it. What the hell was that all about?” I’d worked myself into hysterics. “He was trying to kill me! Why? Was he even for real? Or did you make him up?”

He listened in silence, eyes downcast.

“Why would he do something like that? What is going on? I have a right to know.” I paused to inhale, took good notice of his dismayed expression and relented.

After a long pause, he exhaled. “You have a right to know, and I want you to know. Everything. I will try again, but I may need your help.” He looked at me pleadingly. “Okay?”

I nodded.

“Zet is my brother.” He spoke every word tentatively as if he expected it to be the last. “A long time ago, Persepolis was our home. Cyrus the Great our King. Our father was a wealthy noble, bidding for the King’s favor. Cyrus never seemed content with the size of his empire, just as our father was never content with the size of his fortune. All things within Father’s reach were mere instruments in a blind quest for power and more wealth. Even his sons. Being the eldest, Father had big hopes for me, which included ma—” Something cut him off. Fists clenched, he tried again. “He wanted me to mar—” His body quivered as if the words were bees trapped inside his chest. Frustrated, he hit the wheel with open palms.

“What stops you, Faris?” I asked.

“I’m unable to tell you that as well.” He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the back of his hands as he gripped the wheel.

It felt ridiculous to say what I was about to say, but I had to, I had wanted to ask ever since the first time he had choked on his words. But how much more ridiculous could things get? What the heck.

“Is it like a . . . curse?” I asked.

Like a loaded spring, he straightened and stared at me. His mouth opened to form words, but nothing came out. He blinked in slow motion.

“Okaaay, I take that as a yes?”

“This is hopeless,” he growled in frustration.

“Well, that’s stating the obvious.”

He chuckled sadly. I smiled.

“So why is Zet so mad at you?” I asked.

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