Chapter 32

CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO

Ezra was checking on the lamb in the oven when Zahir appeared out of thin air and picked her up to kiss her. She forgot all about the lamb and wrapped her arms and legs around him.

"The council meeting went well then?" she said, coming up for air.

"It did. I also got to enact a little revenge on the bastard Cabal. A good day," he replied, kissing the tip of her nose before setting her down on her feet. "What is all this cooking about?"

"I’ve invited Stella, Dom, and Arkon around for dinner tonight. I wanted to thank them for everything," she said.

Zahir took a strawberry from the fruit bowl. "Arkon is a little preoccupied at the minute. He and Nico are introducing Vladek to the fine art of Venetian negotiation."

"Do you think Nico will be hungry once they are done? I’ll send him an invitation too," Ezra said with an innocent smile.

Zahir’s eyes narrowed. "Alas, our handsome Nico is going to be too busy hunting pirates to come and eat. Never get between a male shifter and a hunt."

"Is it like getting between a djinn and over decorating?" Ezra asked cheekily.

Zahir sent a tiny ball of magic to zap her. "You were the one who refused to move."

It was an argument they had more than once over the past week. Ezra had wanted to keep living in her house in the Ghetto Nuovo, and when Zahir had suggested a renovation to make room for him, she had foolishly agreed. She had asked him to leave Judah’s study and the library alone. The rest of the house needed a facelift.

Now there was absolutely no mistaking that a djinn lived there. Apart from those rooms, everything else had changed into something that resembled a Moroccan palace. The top floor was now one large bedroom and bathroom with a skylight of brightly colored glass and a small twisting ladder leading up into the now verdant, tropical rooftop garden.

The second floor had become Zahir’s study that seemed to have djinn lingering about in it during the daylight hours. Ezra still wasn’t sure where the door was leading to it from the outside.

The bottom floor with the study and library was the only thing she recognized. Even the kitchen was different.

"Are you saying you don’t like my style, consort?" Zahir asked, nipping at her bottom lip.

"I love it. Otherwise, I would let my magic destroy it and make you do it again," she replied, kissing him back. Ezra was still a little in awe every time he called her consort. What was worse was all the other djinn had started calling her that as well.

"Speaking of your magic, Ashirah has agreed to start teaching you the depth of it and how to wield it," Zahir replied, tucking one of her curls behind her ear.

Ezra lifted a brow. "Really? How did you get her to agree to do that?"

"Easily. I said if she didn’t do it, we were going to go and stay with Karsudan so he could teach you. She would be left in charge of Venice while we were gone," Zahir replied with a devious smile. "She readily agreed."

Ezra laughed softly. "Are you sure you don’t want to teach me? Ashirah is scary."

"I am a terrible teacher, and I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you every time you drew on some of my magic," Zahir replied. "We will have to go and see Karsudan soon, though."

"We do? Why is that?" Ezra asked.

Zahir pulled her close, and she slipped her arms around his neck. "Because, my consort, he is going to do the binding ceremony so I can make you mine forever."

"It’s barely been a week. You said you would give me time," Ezra replied.

"A week is time," Zahir argued. He turned his head to kiss the golden ring on her index finger. "It was time enough for you to figure out how to unbind me from that ring."

That was true. She had kept the ring on after its power had been broken, wanting a reminder to never lose her path the way her father had.

"I love you, but a week is not enough time," Ezra said and kissed him. She would make him wait at least a month. She wanted to belong to him every way she could. It was the principal of the matter that held her back.

"All right, enough of that, you two," Stella said, coming into the kitchen with black gift bags.

"You’re early," Zahir grumbled, letting Ezra go.

"I was bored at home, and Gio has held Dom up for something," Stella replied. She held out one of the bags to him. "A gift from Antonio. He has a new baklava recipe he’s been perfecting and wants to know your thoughts."

"Antonio is a saint of a man," Zahir said, taking the bag with a wide smile.

Stella held out the other bag to Ezra. "This is for you. A present from Arkon and I."

"Thank you," Ezra said. Her heart squeezed as she opened the bag. Inside, wrapped in soft velvet, was an urn of black metal. "Is this…"

"It’s him. Arkon found out where they had dumped his body in an old grave on San Michele. It wasn’t the only one in there either," Stella said softly. "Arkon wanted to make sure he was returned home."

Tears filled Ezra’s eyes as she put her arms around Stella. "Thank you so much."

"You’re welcome," Stella replied before letting her go.

Zahir’s arms came around her instantly, drawing her into his warmth and love. "When you’re ready, we can have a ceremony and put him to rest," he said and kissed the few tears that had fallen on her cheeks.

Ezra nodded and kissed him. "I love you."

"I love you too, my sparrow," he replied, his power brushing against hers, so she felt the truth of his words in every part of her.

Ezra took the urn into Judah’s study and placed it on the desk next to their family photo. She kissed the top of the cool metal, her heart finally at peace and full of love for the man she had lost and the one she had gained.

"Welcome home, Papa."