Chapter 18

If it were not that he did not sleep and therefore did not dream, Abdul would have said he surely must be dreaming now.

Had Sarah Wolfe truly just confessed that she had fallen in love with him, even after knowing the worst of his crimes?

Even after seeing his face?

But no, the touch of her slender fingers against his seemed real enough, and there was no mistaking the rosy flush in her cheeks as she spoke, the way she kept gazing at him, expression almost worried, as though she feared he was going to laugh at the foolishness of a human who would dare to love one such as he.

He was not going to laugh, though. Of course he could not laugh, not when she had just given him the greatest gift possible.

The gift of her heart.

"Perhaps I loved you from the first moment I heard you," he said. "I had no conception of love, no experience of it. I only realized as time went on that I wanted nothing more than to be with you, to see you, to hear you. Singing made you happy, so I would be your accompanist. You enjoyed being out in nature, so I endeavored to devise expeditions that would please you. Everything I have done these past few days has been for you, only I was too blind to see the reason why."

She swallowed. But she did not pull her hand from his, or try to look away. No, she continued to gaze at him without flinching, which he thought was quite the show of bravery, considering how ravaged his face had always been.

"And I didn't recognize what was happening, either," she said. "Or if I did, I thought I must be suffering some kind of Stockholm syndrome."

Although Abdul knew a great deal of human history, he did not believe he had ever heard that phrase before. "‘Stockholm syndrome'?" he repeated.

Now, she smiled, and something of the intensity of the moment seemed to fade. "Well, I won't pretend that I know everything about it, but basically, it's a way of describing when someone starts to have positive feelings for their captor. I mean, I was trapped here because of you, but instead of coming up with ways to escape, all I could seem to do was think about the sound of your voice or what it felt like that one time when you took my hands so we could escape from that thunderstorm. Things like that."

Color had returned to her cheeks as she spoke, and Abdul wondered if that was because she was embarrassed by her feelings, or simply because some time had passed since she first heard his confession, and she had regained some emotional equilibrium.

But he also knew how much her words had moved him, that all the time his heart had been opening to the idea of loving her…even if he had had no idea that was what was happening to him…her heart had warmed to him as well.

"It seems that fate guided us to be together," he said, and she tilted her head, considering his words.

"Maybe you could call it that," she replied. "I'm not going to lie, Abdul — I know what I feel for you, but I also can't ignore what you've done."

"I am not asking you to do that," he said. This was not how he had wanted the conversation to go, and yet he knew he could not shy away from the hard things, not when so much was at stake. "And, as I said before, I will not make excuses. I suppose it comes down to how you will allow yourself to view my deeds." He paused there for a second or two, then continued as an idea occurred to him. "When the bombs were dropped on Japan during your Second World War, who did you think was responsible for all those deaths? Oppenheimer, the man who invented the atomic bomb? The men who flew the planes on those missions? The government? The American people, who put those people in power? Or would you say it was the Japanese themselves, for not surrendering when the war in Europe ended?"

Sarah stared back at him, wide-eyed. It seemed clear enough she had never considered the question before, which he supposed was not so strange. Those bombs had been dropped sixty years before she was even born, and she certainly would have had no reason to analyze the question of the morality involved…unless, perhaps, she had been assigned to write an essay on the topic in school.

"I…I don't know," she said, her voice now shakier than it had been a moment earlier. "I suppose it wasn't any one person, that there was plenty of blame to go around."

"And I would say this is a similar situation," he replied. "Or rather, while the deaths involved are an order of magnitude greater than those who perished in the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the principles are not so very different. I created this plague, true, but I did so because it was something the rest of the djinn wanted. So…are they to blame? Am I? Do the elders hold some responsibility, for they certainly went along with the plan? All it would have taken was a single word, right until the very moment when I began to disperse the disease, and I would have stayed my hand. The Heat, as your people called it, would never have been released. But that word was never given, because it was something the djinn desired. The only ones blameless in all this are the members of the One Thousand, for they saved the ones they could."

During all this, Sarah had continued to hold his hand. Now, though, she released it — if gently — but only so she could knot her fingers around one another, as if that might help her to think more clearly. For a long moment, she said nothing, but only sat there in silence, rosy lips pressed together while she seemed to wrestle with herself.

"I don't think it's my place to forgive you," she said at last. "I mean, that's taking a lot on myself, since I can't speak for the ones who died…or the ones who survived. But I think I understand what you're telling me. There's plenty of blame to go around." Another hesitation, and then she added, "But — but you don't have any plans to hurt the people in Los Alamos, do you?"

The idea had never even occurred to him, so he felt comfortable in replying, "No, of course not. If God saw fit to make them immune — and saw fit to create the scientist who invented the djinn-repelling devices — then I am not one to interfere. Indeed, I rather admire them."

"You do?" she asked, her expression both relieved and a little startled.

"Yes," he said. "For they have shown great ingenuity. They are survivors, and it seems they have learned some of the lessons from the world that was destroyed. I do not think they will repeat the mistakes of the past."

"They won't," Sarah said, and now her voice was firm, confident. "I've seen all the work they've done to make sure the settlement is sustainable, that the things they do and the plans they make are all designed to avoid hurting the environment." She stopped there, sending him a rueful smile. "And since I just realized I've been referring to them as ‘they' and not ‘we,' I guess that says something about where my loyalties lie."

A cautious hope warmed him then. For a few moments, he was not sure what she intended to say — perhaps to tell him that even though she cared for him, she could not allow herself to truly love someone burdened with so much death and destruction? — but those last words appeared to indicate that she was ready to accept him as he was.

However, he needed to find out for sure.

He rose from his seat, and after a moment of hesitation, she got to her feet as well, her lovely face a picture of confusion.

Did she truly not know what he intended to do?

Never in his long life had he ever kissed anyone. But he understood the mechanics of such caresses well enough.

Now he needed to discover whether he dared to put theory into practice.

He bent and touched his mouth to hers, and although she hesitated for just the barest second — more out of surprise than anything else, he thought — she then twined her fingers with his and leaned in close, lips parting slightly so he might taste her, the sweetness of wine on her tongue, a certain delectable flavor that he thought was hers and hers alone.

The heat that coursed through him was utterly unexpected, shocking as a burst of lightning. He had spent countless millennia schooling his body to utmost control, knowing he would never be able to experience physical contact, and to kiss Sarah now was to remind him of everything he had been deprived of during those long, lonely centuries.

She clung to him as well, body pressed against his, and made a soft little sound as their embrace continued, as if she, too, could not quite understand her reaction to his touch.

A moment later, though, she pulled away as she sent him a lopsided smile.

"Well," she said, "I suppose that answers that question."

Until he began to lean toward her, Sarah hadn't truly understood what Abdul intended to do. But once his lips pressed against hers, she realized this was the only way any of this could have ended.

Well, all right…maybe there was one other way. She could have gotten up from the table and walked back to her room, telling Abdul she would never forget, and certainly would never forgive.

For now, though, she was more than happy to let him kiss her, to open her mouth so he'd know she wanted to deepen the kiss. Her body seemed to practically pulse with desire, and she knew no one's kiss had ever made her feel like this before, as though until this moment, she'd only been half alive. The only other experiences that even came close were the times when she was singing at the top of her form, floating along on a breath that would support whatever note she needed to produce, but that still wasn't the same. Those times, she'd still been alone.

Now…now she was with Abdul, and she knew her entire universe had changed forever.

She began to feel almost lightheaded, so she drew away so she could catch her breath. But she spoke words she hoped would be reassuring, and it seemed they worked, since he smiled down at her as well, his half-ravaged face the most beautiful thing in the world to her.

"You did not mind that?"

They were still holding hands, so she gave his fingers a little squeeze as she replied, just to reinforce her point. "No, I didn't mind, not one bit. That was…amazing."

He bent so he could kiss her again, but gently this time, a quick brush of his lips against hers. "I am glad to hear that," he said. "And gladder still to know that we appear to be of one mind. But…."

The word seemed to slide away into the ether, although Sarah thought she knew what he meant.

"But…where do we go from here?"

She knew where she wanted to go — straight into his bedroom, which she'd still never seen. The sensible part of her brain…which, she had to admit, was almost buried by the part of her that wanted to tear all those flowing dark clothes off Abdul's body…tried to tell her there was no reason to rush into things.

Wasn't it kind of a lot to jump right into bed after only one kiss?

"I will not force you," he said quietly. "This must be your decision."

Her lips twisted into a not-quite grin. "Oh, I'm not worried about being ‘forced,'" she responded. "I'm more worried about not having the self-control to keep myself from jumping your bones right here and now."

Rather than smile in return, he tilted his head at her. "I have not heard of this ‘jumping bones.'"

"Getting intimate," she said, even as embarrassed blood flooded her cheeks.

"Ah." He paused for a moment, then went on, "I, too, am desirous of such a thing. On the other hand, we do not need to rush into this. I want you to be comfortable, to wait until you know you are ready."

Oh, she was ready now. But she also realized that Abdul had just unburdened some pretty heavy stuff on her, and going to bed with him right away when she hadn't completely processed everything probably wasn't the best idea.

That seemed to settle it.

"Thank you for that," she said, and moved so she could resume her seat. "Then I suppose what we should do now is finish this food before it gets cold."

One corner of his mouth — the corner on the side that was unscarred and perfect — lifted slightly, and she thought of how much she loved the unevenness of it, how the expression was so uniquely his. "It cannot get cold. That is part of the magic of djinn food. But I understand your meaning."

He sat as well, returning his napkin to his lap. Sarah did the same, and with something of an air of unreality, she picked up her fork and returned to her meal as though nothing had happened.

It had, though. She had kissed Abdul, and he had told her he loved her, and she supposed tomorrow they'd do their best to figure out what that all meant.

His bedroom felt emptier than ever that night, but he reminded himself that he must be patient. While he would have loved to have Sarah lying here next to him, he also knew she was being wise in her attempt to take things slowly. They had all the time in the world.

Or at least, he did. There was no such thing as a Chosen for him, for he had never thought he could give a human his love, let alone expect her love in return. That did not mean he would be forced to watch Sarah grow old and die, of course. No, once she was absolutely sure she wanted to be with him forever, then he would join his essence to hers, and she would be young and healthy and beautiful until the end of time.

That was a conversation they could have later on, however. He had no idea how much she knew about djinn/human relationships, but whatever she knew, it did not exactly apply here. Unlike the djinn, who must abide by the elders' rules, he was subject to no one.

Except, perhaps the Power that had brought him into being in the first place.

And that meant he could have her live here for as long as they wanted even if they did not formalize their relationship, for the elders could not interfere, could not come and tell him that he must make her his Chosen if he wanted to continue in a relationship with her.

Not that he would have hesitated. After that first kiss, he would have gladly bound her to him forever…but he also understood that she needed to come to terms with a great many things. Her feelings for him, of course, but also her reaction to his revelations, how she would need to approach her own way of dealing with the actions of his past.

He thought he knew how that would play out, and yet until she told him for certain, he could not allow himself to have too much reckless hope.

Even though he could not sleep, he closed his eyes anyway, just so he could hold the image of Sarah's lovely face in his mind until he could see her once again.

Sleep was long in coming that night, and Sarah couldn't pretend she didn't know the reason why.

She'd kissed him. Kissed the man who'd kept her here for more than a week.

Much more than that, though.

Abdul was the reason why the world had changed.

Or…was he? Yes, he'd created the Heat, but as he'd told her, he would never have invented the terrible disease in the first place if that hadn't been what the djinn wanted.

So who should she hate?

All of them? None?

She'd always been taught that hate was a fruitless emotion, that it hurt the hater more than the hated. And she'd done her best to live her life that way, not allowing petty feuds and jealousies to blossom into anything more than minor irritations. If someone had asked her five years ago, she would have been able to honestly say that she didn't hate anyone. Not really.

For a long time after the Dying, she'd wanted to hate the djinn for what they'd done to the world and the people around her, but she'd let that go as well as the years passed, knowing she couldn't allow that kind of poison to build in her soul if she truly wanted to move on.

And if she couldn't hate the djinn in the collective, then she couldn't let herself hate Abdul.

No, she knew she loved him. Every instinct she possessed told her how wrong that was, but she couldn't deny what her soul had been trying to reveal to her for the past few days. He was kind and gentle and thoughtful, all the qualities she'd always wanted in a partner and had started to believe she would never have.

How could she hate him, when he'd made her feel alive for the first time in years?

So, all right. She loved him. What exactly did that mean? What was supposed to happen next?

She had no idea. This wasn't like hooking up with one of the djinn. Abdul had made it clear that he wasn't exactly one of them, so she knew she was in uncharted territory here.

But then…this was all new for him as well. He'd never been in love, never had anyone in his life. All those long, long years, he'd been utterly on his own.

In that moment, Sarah knew she would do whatever she must to make sure he was never alone again.