Chapter 6

The landscape was utterly dark now, and Sarah pondered whether she should pull the drapes closed or whether she should continue to sit here until the moon rose. Whenever that might be; she had to admit she didn't pay a lot of attention to such things, especially since the townhouse she'd been given to live in was located in a complex with lots of tall pine trees and she couldn't even see the moon day to day unless she had a late shift at Pajarito's and spied it as she was walking home.

Probably better to close the drapes. She didn't think the djinn would lurk outside and spy on her through the windows, but still, why take the chance?

She'd just risen from her chair when a knock came at the door.

What the hell did he want now? Wasn't the whole point of this little exercise to leave her to rot in this admittedly very nice bedroom suite?

"Yes?" she called out.

His voice came to her, slightly muffled by the thick pine door. "I wanted to know if you had any restrictions on your diet."

How…accommodating of him. She really didn't, mostly because survivors in this post-Dying world couldn't afford to be picky about what they ate. There were a couple of people in Los Alamos who were vegetarian, although their food wasn't varied enough to support a true vegan lifestyle.

Sarah, on the other hand, had always been an omnivore, although back before the world changed, she hadn't eaten a lot of red meat. Now, though, she consumed what was available, whether rabbit or venison or elk or the rare chicken. They'd just recently begun to have enough of a spare poultry population that chicken had started to show up on the menu at Pajarito's from time to time, but it wasn't anything she could count on.

"No restrictions," she said. Then she couldn't help smiling as a certain thought occurred to her. "But I'd kill for some pepperoni pizza."

Because, while there were several decent pizza makers in Los Alamos, no one had come up with a way to make pepperoni yet. It had been years and years since she'd had such an indulgence.

"I am sure killing will not be necessary," the djinn replied.

Before she could even blink, a freshly baked personal-size pizza appeared on the small table in the sitting area, along with what she thought might be a glass of chianti. Not that it mattered. It was red wine, and she knew she could use a drink after the day she'd had.

"Um…thanks," she told the door.

"It is nothing."

That seemed to be that, because he didn't say anything else. Which was fine by her, since trying to carry on a conversation through a door was just a wee bit awkward.

She went over to the table and sat down on the chair she'd occupied only a few minutes earlier. The scent of the pizza rose to her nostrils, warm and rich and spicy, and her stomach growled.

Even as she began to reach for a piece, however, she hesitated.

What if he'd drugged the food or something?

Don't be ridiculous, she told herself. He already has the upper hand here. Why would he need to drug you when he's already got you locked up right where he wants you?

Good question. But maybe he had other, darker designs on her, even though so far he hadn't shown a single hint that he even recognized she was female.

No, that was also ridiculous. Sarah knew she was pretty enough, in a kind of girl-next-door way that had allowed her to land those local commercials back in the day, but she didn't have the model-perfect looks of a woman who would have attracted a djinn, like Julia Innes, who'd once been the main administrator in Los Alamos, or even Lindsay Odekirk, who'd been with one of the elementals before he was murdered by a bunch of rogue djinn.

Obviously, she hadn't been pretty enough to be Chosen, which meant there was no reason in the world for her captor to have any designs on her person. He had her locked up because she'd trespassed, and that was it.

Satisfied with her logic, she went ahead and pulled a piece loose from the pizza, trailing wonderfully gooey mozzarella along with it. That first bite was amazing, rich and tangy at the same time, while the crust had wonderful char and crunched as she bit into it.

Who knew a djinn could be so good at making pizza?

Something so amazing should be savored, so she slowed down after the first two bites, punctuating the remainder of the slice with sips of chianti. That, too, was incredible; she'd never been a wine expert, but she knew whatever he'd provided, it wasn't some supermarket brand.

Well, at least she wouldn't starve while she was trapped here.

Go crazy from boredom? Sure.

And she'd need to find some way to stay active if she kept eating like this. Yoga every morning would help, and possibly some dance exercises. The room was big enough for that kind of activity, especially if she rolled up the rug to get it out of the way.

Maybe it was crazy to be making contingency plans like this when she didn't even know how long the djinn intended to keep her captive. For all she knew, he was only trying to frighten her, and once she'd been thoroughly cowed, he'd send her on her merry way.

Not the most likely of scenarios, but better to think that than to allow herself to wonder if he truly intended to keep her trapped here until she died of old age.

Suddenly, the pizza didn't taste so good. However, she made herself eat two more pieces and drink the rest of the wine, mostly because she knew she'd exerted herself today and her body needed the nourishment.

What she was supposed to do with the dirty plate and glass, she wasn't sure. Then again, the djinn had blinked them in here, and she assumed he could blink them right back out when he decided she was finished with everything.

A peek outside the curtains told her the night was now utterly black, without a single sign that the moon intended to rise any time soon. Not quite sighing, Sarah let the drapery fall from her fingers and wondered what she should do next. It wasn't as if there was anything in here to entertain her — no TV or books or tablet.

And because he hadn't returned her backpack to her, she wasn't sure how she was supposed to get ready for bed.

Well, she'd splash some water on her face and scrub a washcloth across her teeth. Better than nothing, she supposed, although she would definitely let him know tomorrow morning that he needed to provide at least a few amenities if he planned to keep her here.

She went into the bathroom and blinked. When she'd come in here earlier, the large quartz-topped vanity had been empty except for a set of folded hand towels. Now, though, a dark metal toothbrush holder flaunted a brand-new brush, and several small jars with iron lids held cotton balls and Q-tips.

Startled, she opened the drawer next to her and saw that it contained toothpaste and floss. A quick inspection of the medicine cabinet revealed all sorts of moisturizers and serums, the kind of stuff she'd spent money on back in the day because she knew it was important to keep up her appearance, even though lately she'd been getting by with a single jar of Oil of Olay intended to last her for at least six months if not more. There was a small group of people in Los Alamos working hard on concocting alternatives to those beauty treatments based on the supplies they had readily available — namely, goat's milk and various local flowers and herbs — but they still couldn't make enough to supply everyone.

Where had all this come from? Obviously, the djinn had blinked it here, but had he found a cache in an abandoned department store somewhere, or had he simply conjured it into existence?

Hard to say; Sarah hadn't spent any time around the elementals, but she'd heard that sometimes they simply grabbed what they needed from already available supplies elsewhere in the world, while on other occasions, they basically manufactured an item from the atomic level up.

Either way, she didn't need to worry about washing her face or brushing her teeth.

And when she went to the closet, it was to find the previously empty space full of clothes so gorgeous, they looked more like something out of a costume house than regular everyday clothing. Long silk tunics with matching pants, airy dresses and skirts and blouses in equally luxurious fabrics.

No jeans or T-shirts, though, nothing that looked remotely practical.

Was this the djinn's way of telling her she might as well wear something decorative since he wasn't letting her out into the wild any time soon?

Well, she'd worry about that later. It was enough to know she wouldn't be stuck in the same dirty clothes day after day.

Besides, she'd always loved getting dressed up. Life after the Dying had been hard in all sorts of new and uncomfortable ways, but one of the things she'd hated the most — shallow as it felt to her — was never having a reason to put on a pretty dress. And that ignored the way she'd never again need to wear a gorgeous costume like one of Christine's from Phantom, or the glorious ballgown that had been part of her wardrobe when she'd played Belle in a production of Beauty and the Beast at a local theater a few years before the Heat went on its tour of destruction across the planet.

No elaborate gowns among the clothing the djinn had given her, and Sarah supposed that was probably a good thing. She couldn't really imagine him twirling her around in an oversized ballroom. He didn't seem the type.

Besides, she knew she would never allow herself to dance with him.

Not after what he'd done to her.

All seemed quiet behind the door of the woman's room, so Abdul guessed she must have resigned herself to her situation and had sat down to eat the food he'd provided for her. Once he was seated at the dining room table and consuming his own very different meal — he'd conjured osso bucco on a bed of orzo pasta, washed down with a very fine Aglianico — he found himself wondering if he had done the right thing by keeping her confined in the guest suite rather than forcing her to come out here and eat with him. For some reason, this room felt quite empty when he knew there was another living, breathing being only a few yards away.

But no, that was ridiculous. She was not his guest, but a prisoner, one whose tenure here might be of some duration. At least it seemed that she was not inclined toward any other escape attempts.

Unless she was acting quiescent now in order to lure him into a false sense of security.

Frowning, he set down his fork so he might listen more closely to the sounds in the rest of the house. All seemed utterly silent, so he knew she could not be attempting to force open a window or fiddle with the lock in the hope that it might give way.

So it seemed she was ready to accept her captivity…for now, at least.

Somewhat reassured, he consumed the rest of this meal, then snapped his fingers to have the empty plate and glass disappear. A completely unnecessary gesture, and yet it was something he did on occasion just because it gave him a sense of completion. Enough time had elapsed that he thought the woman should also have finished her food, so he did the same thing with her dinner dishes.

No sounds of protest came from her room, which seemed to signal she was now somewhat used to the way he could make her food come and go.

Had she spent any time around djinn?

He somehow doubted it, but that was hard to say. The djinn in Santa Fe had some traffic with the humans in Los Alamos, so he supposed she might have had some exposure to them while on a visit to the former capital city. Even if she had not, she would at least have heard some tales about djinn powers, which meant none of this should have been a huge surprise to her.

The quiet of the house seemed almost oppressive. If he had been alone, he might have chosen a favorite piece to play on the unobtrusive but very expensive sound system he'd summoned with the rest of the home's furnishings, but now he wasn't sure. Would she be soothed by hearing music in another room, or would it keep her from sleeping?

Impossible to say. Clearly, she was of a musical nature, or she would not have been able to sing so effortlessly, so beautifully. Abdul had listened to countless hours of recorded music ever since it became available, but nothing was quite the same as hearing it come directly from the throat of the person performing it.

Would she sing for him if he asked?

Somehow, he doubted it.

For now, he thought it better to leave listening to Mozart or Rachmaninoff for another evening. Instead, he let himself out the front door and walked through the courtyard, finally pausing near one of the Adirondack chairs placed there. Off to his left, the faintest pale smudge behind the mountains told him the moon was beginning to rise, although it would not reach its zenith for many more hours. Otherwise, the sky was utterly black, the stars like scattered diamonds across its vast expanse, with the mist of the Milky Way a soft glow in the background.

Yes, it was very beautiful here.

The only fly in this ointment was the presence of the woman in the guest suite. Abdul realized that he had never asked her name, and decided he would have to correct that oversight tomorrow.

If, of course, she even deigned to speak to him.

But while he understood her anger, he would not allow it to move him. He absolutely could not risk the rest of the mortals discovering his sanctuary, and especially could not allow them to learn the truth about him. It was a truth he had kept hidden from everyone save the elders, and he meant to keep it that way. Some might have argued that there was very little the humans could even do against one such as he, but Abdul knew the barriers he had erected existed both without and within, and he would do whatever he must to keep them in place.

Sarah opened her eyes the next morning as pale light stole past the heavy linen drapes, then allowed herself a luxurious stretch, the kind that seemed to pull her taut from the tips of her fingers all the way down to her toes. Maybe she shouldn't have been feeling quite so comfortable, considering where she was and why she was here, but she couldn't quite help herself. This bed was the most comfortable one she'd ever slept in, even better than the fancy Saatva pillow-top model she'd bought for herself to replace the mattress she'd had since junior high. Since she'd still been living at home and didn't have to pay rent or a mortgage, she could justify the expense, but the Saatva still hadn't been as good as this one.

Well, from everything she'd heard, djinn were extremely adept at providing themselves with the finer things in life, and she supposed high-end mattresses should be included among those luxuries.

And speaking of luxuries, she was more than ready to try out the spa-like shower in the bathroom.

It was everything she'd expected and more, including the neverending flow of warm water. Back in Los Alamos, everyone had learned to take fast showers so as not to use up too much energy, but that definitely wasn't a problem here. She'd heard how djinn used some of their power to heat water and run furnaces and air conditioning, so she assumed that must be what her captor was doing here as well.

That thought made her a wee bit uncomfortable…but not so much that she sped up the rest of her shower. It just felt too good to indulge herself with all that hot water, and to use shampoo and conditioner that seemed as though they'd come straight from a high-end salon rather than the drugstore stuff she'd been using for the past four-plus years.

Afterward, she dressed herself in fresh underwear…that part did feel a little weird, but again, not so weird that she was going to scruple at putting on a pretty lace bra and matching panties…and then chose one of the dresses her captor had provided for her, made of deep red silk, with a high waist and what felt like yards of fabric in the skirt. The whole thing made her want to twirl around like a little girl playing dress-up, but she managed to keep control of herself and instead slid her feet into a pair of pewter-hued thongs that were neutral enough to go with pretty much anything.

As far as she could tell, he hadn't summoned any jewelry, but that was all right. She'd been wearing a pair of small silver hoops when she was captured, and they were better than nothing.

To be honest, she wasn't sure whether it mattered what she looked like, since it didn't seem as though she'd be getting out of this room any time soon.

She went to the window to take a look at the day. The sun had been up for a while, and the sky overhead was its usual gorgeous sapphire. Some clouds were building to the south and east, however, telling her they might be in for some weather by the time late afternoon rolled around.

Nothing she needed to worry about, though, because again, she had no reason to believe her captor would even allow her to go outside at all.

Just as that thought passed through her mind, he knocked at the door. She went over to it and said, "Yes?"

"Would you like coffee or tea? Do you have any preferences for breakfast?"

"Tea," she said at once. For some reason, she wanted to smile. If nothing else, she had to admit that the djinn was a very polite jailer.

And although everyone else she'd known in the theater community had been a fiend for coffee, she'd never acquired a taste for it.

"For breakfast…." She paused, wondering what she wanted. In the past, she'd never been much of a breakfast person, and she'd continued that practice in Los Alamos, thinking she was doing her part by not consuming very much for her first meal of the day. Sure, the djinn could probably get her anything she wanted, including fancy omelets or Belgian waffles, but she didn't see the point in pushing things. "Just a blueberry muffin or something."

He didn't respond right away, and she wondered if he was going to try to urge her to eat more than that. However, he only said, "Of course."

Movement out of the corner of her eye made her turn away from the door. Sure enough, a small lacquer tray had appeared with an adorable little brown-glazed teapot and matching mug, along with a gorgeous blueberry muffin that sat on a plate of the same thick stoneware.

It seemed her joke about room service hadn't been too far off the mark.

"Thank you," she called out to the closed door, but because there was no reply, she guessed that he'd already gone.

All right, then. She sat down on the chair and poured herself some tea. The djinn hadn't asked what she wanted, but this tasted like it was probably English Breakfast or some other mild black tea, and that was fine by her. A small bowl of sugar and a matching baby-sized pitcher filled with milk had come along with the teapot and mug. Nice of him, she supposed, but she always drank her tea plain.

Well, unless she was indulging herself in a Thai iced tea, although she had to admit she hadn't had one of those for several years even before the Heat came along.

The muffin was delectable, moist and with the blueberries so large and juicy, they almost didn't seem real. Sarah supposed the ingredients were like the mattress and all the other items that had come with this room, everything the best it could be because that was just how the djinn rolled.

After she was done eating, she went and brushed her teeth, and then put on a little of the makeup she'd found in one of the other drawers, a hint of blush and some rosy-toned gloss, a flick of mascara. Her reflection as it stared back at her from the mirror now looked quite polished, a definite change from the simple, outdoorsy image she'd been cultivating ever since she got to Los Alamos.

No, she almost looked like the Sarah Wolfe she'd been before, a woman who'd tried to take good care of herself so she'd always present her best face no matter who she might encounter.

Too bad no one was around to see her.

She went to the door, putting her ear against it so she could get an idea as to what her captor might be doing right now, but she didn't hear anything.

For all she knew, he wasn't even inside the house. With the door and the windows of her suite locked down tight, it wasn't as though he needed to be right there to keep an eye on her.

She'd tried all of them the night before, not jiggling them so hard that he would hear what she was doing, but enough to tell her there was no way she was getting out of that room unless he came by and unlocked the door for her. Likewise, she'd gone over to the kiva-style fireplace in the corner and tried peering inside the chimney, but it quickly became obvious to her that nothing bigger than a cat was getting up there.

The utter silence outside her suite didn't prevent her from calling out, "Hey!"

Almost at once, she heard him respond, "What is it you need?"

To get the hell out of here, she thought. However, since she doubted he'd comply with that request, she didn't even bother to ask.

"Something to keep myself from going crazy with boredom," she said at once. "Books. An iPad. A computer. Anything."

"I see," he said politely. A pause so long that for a moment, she thought he'd gone away, but then he added, "And what is your name? I realize I did not ask."

Took you long enough. But again, she kept the thought to herself and instead responded, "Sarah. Sarah Wolfe. And you?"

"Abdul," he said briefly.

"Abdul what?" Because even she knew that djinn names had a patronymic kind of surname, with everyone being "al-this" and "al-that."

"Only Abdul. I will see about getting you some form of entertainment."

For a moment, she wondered if she should press him further about his name. But she once again caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and saw that an iPad had materialized on the chair opposite the one where she'd sat and eaten her breakfast.

The tablet wasn't password-protected, so when she woke it up, she saw at once that it had been loaded with a veritable library of popular books, and that it also was stocked with movies and music and games. Maybe it wasn't quite the same as the gorgeous multi-story library the Beast had given Belle in the movie, but it should still keep her occupied for quite some time.

"Thank you," she called out.

No answer. By now she was beginning to get used to the way Abdul would provide her with something she'd requested and then leave, so she wasn't quite as surprised by the lack of response as she might have been even the night before.

All right. She still had every intention of getting out of here, but at least in the meantime, she wouldn't drive herself mad by pacing around her luxurious prison.

Tablet in hand, she sat down and began to read.