“You know.” Saal nodded to a woman on the other side of the street after they’d walked several blocks in silence. “That poor thing looks terrible in that green.”

  “Yeah.” Wyatt studied her. “It’s not her color.”

  “You could always…”

  “Oh.” Wyatt laughed when he finally caught on to what Saal was suggesting. “Should I wish she was in blue maybe? I bet she’d look good in blue.”

  “It would be a kindness.”

  Wyatt wished, and Saal did his trick, and then the three of them had hurried away laughing, the dog’s tail wagging as they ran.

  By the time they were back home, they’d fixed a crack in the sidewalk, repaired a vandalized bike, and left money in the purse of a tired-looking mother with four young kids. And Wyatt was in high spirits.

  “It’s like you’re a superhero.” Wyatt dropped to the end of the couch, happy in a way he hadn’t been in a very long time, and Saal laid down next to him, putting his head in Wyatt’s lap, the dog curled on his feet on the far end of the couch.

  “It is, isn’t it?”

  Unable to stop himself, Wyatt stroked the hair back from Saal’s face. At that moment, he had the strongest urge to kiss him again, like he had out on the sidewalk. “You probably shouldn’t do that.”

  As if he could read his mind, Saal’s eyes narrowed, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Do what?”

  “You know what.”

  Saal let out a sigh and sat up.

  “You know that all this is so that I can be the person Samuel would like me to be?”

  “Of course.” Saal tilted his head, giving him another of those odd looks. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy being with you because I like who you are already.”

  * * * *

  Wyatt lay in bed unable to sleep and listened to the murmur of Saal’s voice and the click of the dog’s nails on the hardwood floor.

  Everything was going as planned. By tomorrow, when he walked back into the gallery, all his work would be hanging on the wall. Clay would be there to see it, and so would Samuel. He should have been excited, but instead he felt off.

  Wyatt sat up. “Hey, are you going to sleep?”

  “Sorry.” Saal poked his head into the room. “I thought maybe you’d prefer to sleep by yourself before the big day.”

  “I don’t think I’m used to it anymore.”

  “Azua.” Saal called the dog, jumped up on to the bed, and Wyatt grabbed at him when he wobbled.

  “You are going to break something.” But like always, Saal just laughed, and laid down under the covers next to him, and after a moment the dog came to sleep at their feet. “Why did you name her Azua?”

  “It means wish.” Wyatt laughed at that, and he could see Saal smile in the light from the streetlights that penetrated the curtains. “I’ve wished I could have a dog for a long time.”

  “Yeah?” For whatever reason, it hadn’t ever occurred to him that Saal might have wishes of his own. God, he could be such a self-centered asshole. “What else do you wish for?”

  Saal was quiet.

  “You know, say if you could go anywhere, where would it be?”

  “London.”

  “Really?” Wyatt rolled onto his side to look at him. “What would you do in London?”

  “I would leave flowers on my friend Elizabeth’s grave. If the cemetery is still there.”

  “Who’s Elizabeth?” They had never talked much about Saal’s life. Whenever he’d asked about Mr. Walters, Saal had always been evasive or had changed the subject altogether, but Wyatt thought Saal might be in more of a mood to talk tonight.

  “Elizabeth was my friend. She was irreverent and lovely. And she had big plans.”

  “What kind of plans?” Wyatt could hear the genuine affection in Saal’s voice.

  “She was convinced she could free me, but I wouldn’t let her try.”

  “Wait.” Wyatt sat up in bed and, startled by the movement, Azua jumped to the floor and padded out of the room again. “Free you, free you? How? Why didn’t you let her try?”

  “Elizabeth was older when she found me, and we were together just over three years. But that last year, I think she knew she was sick. She’d became obsessed with the idea. She was always traveling, talking to people she thought would know about such things. Bribing her way into private libraries and museum archives.”

  “And what did she learn?”

  “She said it could be done with a wish, an act, and a sacrifice.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “She could wish me untethered, both from my vessel and from her, and then the bottle would need to be broken—dropped and smashed.”

  “And the sacrifice?”

  “The one who made the wish and destroyed the bottle would sacrifice everything they’d gained from their previous wishes.”

  “She was willing to do that, but you wouldn’t let her?”

  “What if she was wrong?”

  “And if she was? If she’d smashed your bottle and the wish didn’t work?”

  “Without being tethered to another vessel, I might no longer exist.”

  Wyatt laid back down next to Saal, and unable to stop himself, wound their fingers together.

  “I was scared.” Saalik turned his head to look at him. “Maybe I would have changed my mind, eventually. But, like I said, her health was failing, though she hadn’t told me, or maybe I’m wrong and she didn’t know. But one evening as we traveled here, she asked me to make her a promise, and I began to suspect.

  “Later that night, I was jerked awake by our severed bond, and yanked from our rooms on the ship to a dark apartment in Manhattan full of crates.”

  “Why? I don’t—”

  “I’m tethered to my master. I was tethered to her just as I am to you. The keeper of my vessel. But if that person dies, the tether is gone, and my anchor is the bottle itself.”

  “God.” Wyatt finally understood. “And your bottle was in that apartment.”

  “Exactly. Shipped ahead with all her other possessions.”

  He lay there for a very long time, staring at the ceiling and trying to imagine Saal and the life he had before this moment, before Mr. Walters, with his Elizabeth who he so obviously cared for and who had cared for him. “What was it?”

  “What?”

  “You said that Elizabeth asked you to make her a promise. What was it?”

  “Oh.” Saal let out a puff of breath. “Elizabeth believed there were certain people that were meant to cross your path. Like I had hers. Meant to be part of your life. People you inspire and who inspire you to live and take risks. To be brave. She asked me to promise that if I ever saw someone like that, someone who needed me as much as I needed them, that I would do what I could to have my vessel cross their path.”

  “Have you ever?” Wyatt turned to look at him, studying his profile. “Picked your next bottle’s keeper?”

  “Once.” Saal looked back at him and smiled. “I picked you.”

  Chapter 14

  “You’re going to do wonderfully.” Saalik sat on the bed, watching Wyatt struggling with the buttons on his shirt.

  Wyatt caught his eyes in the mirror, took a deep breath, and blew it out. “If I can just stop shaking.”

  “Yes. That would help.” When Wyatt laughed, Saalik felt like he’d done his job. “Do you remember the plan?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” Wyatt closed his eyes, concentrating as he spoke. “I’ll arrive at the gallery at exactly six-thirty to be interviewed by Out Loud.”

  “Yes, it will be a little more intimate than the one with The Underground. They’ll want pictures of you and want you to talk about technics and influences, and be prepared to answer questions about your experience as a queer artist.”

  “Got it.” The thought of photos of him had Wyatt check himself in the mirror again. “Then the show starts at seven.”

  “Yes. Rolling Stone will be there for another artist, but your portrait sold some days ago and they’ll want to talk to you.”

  “Shit. It’s like everything snowballed.”

  “That’s how it works. Everyone wants a little piece of the new It-Boy. But you can handle it.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Okay. And you’ll be there, right? You won’t leave me?”

  “Of course not.” The words reminded Saalik of his own words to Elizabeth once upon a time. “Eight-thirty. I want to give Samuel plenty of time to chat you up.”

  Samuel. He’d almost forgotten about that part.

  “How do I look?” Wyatt turned around as he pulled a leather jacket over a white shirt. He’d added pink back in his hair and touched up the polish on his nails, and even applied a tint to his lips so that he didn’t look quite so pale against the black of his jacket. “This okay?”

  “Yes.” Knowing it was likely his last chance, Saalik stood up, taking him in, and leaned up to press a quick kiss to his mouth. “Absolutely perfect. Samuel won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.”

  Wyatt blushed. “We can hope.”

  Chapter 15

  “Well, Mr. Calder.” Vanessa was in black again, but this time her hair had been lacquered into an intricate display of large curls plastered against her forehead. It reminded Wyatt of a flapper or maybe an old-timey showgirl. “It’s going splendidly.”

  “It’s crowded.” More crowded than he’d expected.

  “I wish I had known this was your first show.” She gave him a raised eyebrow look that he didn’t think most people could pull off. “I would have made a bigger deal about it.”

  “Sorry, I should have mentioned it”

  “Too late now, but you have drawn a lot of attention. If you have time after this, maybe we can talk about possibly showcasing your work in our Manhattan gallery. We’re talking Robert Mapplethorpe status.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “And.” She gave him a smile that seem to break the character she played. “You look particularly tasty this evening, and the staff and I have a wager on how many numbers you’ll pocket tonight. I have fifty on eighteen.”

  “Oh.” Wyatt fought a blush. He’d lost count of the number of people—both men and women—who’d tucked their number into his jacket pockets or pressed them into his hand. “I think you’ve already lost but I’ll let you know at the end.”

  She laughed.

  Wyatt fought the urge to check his phone again and the desire to watch the door. He figured it had to be approaching eight-thirty, but so far the night had dragged on. He was not great at making small talk, but luckily most of the people who approached him did most of the talking. But he’d feel more comfortable once Saal was there.

  “Hey, man.” Wyatt nearly jumped at the voice and was relieved to turn and find Clay.

  “Thank God.” He hugged him, whispering in his ear and holding him longer than was strictly necessary. “I’m so glad you came. Don’t leave me.”

  “You got it, but what the fuck? It’s a mad house.”

  “I know.” When he let go, Clay stood a little taller and elbowed him in the side, making less than subtle eye contact. “Oh, yeah. Clay, this is Vanessa Corbyn. She’s a partner here at the gallery. Vanessa, this is Clay Morris.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Morris.”

  “Clay, please.” He gave her what Clay called his panty-charmer smile. “The pleasure is all mine.”

  “Oh, hon.” Vanessa shot Wyatt a look and he tried hard not to apologize. “I’m nearly old enough to be your mother.”

  When she walked off, Clay grinned. “Does she not know that just makes it hotter?”

  “God, you’re weird.”

  “Hi.”

  Wyatt turned around, a nervous flutter in is stomach. “Hey, Samuel. Thanks for coming. You look…great.”

  And he did. And happy. Wyatt had almost forgotten how beautiful he was when he was happy.

  “So do you.” Samuel looked Wyatt over, and he had the urge to fuss with his clothing and hair. “I’m proud of you, Wyatt.”

  “Thanks, that means a lot.”

  “After this, maybe you’d want to—”

  There was a loud burst of laughter and Wyatt’s attention was drawn over Samuel’s shoulder toward the door at the moment Saal pushed inside. Just the sight of him made Wyatt relax.

  In a deep-green sweater and wool coat, his dark hair pushed back from his face, he looked handsome in that intimidating way of his, but then his eyes caught Wyatt’s and he smiled, and Wyatt was hit with a sense of longing that froze him completely. “Well shit.”

  Saal noticed Samuel then, the smile diminishing for just a moment before he looked back at Wyatt and took a little bow.

  Afraid he’d leave, Wyatt raised his hand, waving him over, but suddenly Saal jerked, his eyes going wide and scared. Then he disappeared in a puff of blue smoke.

  Chapter 16

  Saalik woke up on Wyatt’s bed, relieved when he caught the sight of him out of the corner of his eye, sitting in the chair watching him.

  “What happened?”

  Azua barked from somewhere else in the apartment.

  “You tell me?”

  Saalik sat up quickly. The voice was Wyatt’s, and so was the face, but the towheaded man that sat across from him was not Wyatt at all. Saalik tried to reach out, to feel for him at the end of their tether, but he wasn’t there. Instead, he only found this stranger.

  “You’re Teddy.”

  The man, clad in a pair of old jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, smiled. There was a box at his feet, and Saalik could see Wyatt’s camera, and a few other mostly valueless pieces of junk—a DVD player, a charred bottom of a copper pot, and small wooden box from Wyatt’s dresser—but in his hands he held Saalik’s bottle.

  “Yep.” Teddy hopped up, nearly dropping it to the floor, and Saalik would have flinched if he didn’t already have so much experience with careless, thoughtless keepers. “And you’re a…”

  “A Jinn. Your Jinn.”

  “Fuck me. If I hadn’t seen you just poof here when I touched this ugly old bottle, I wouldn’t have believed you.” He grinned. And as much as he looked like Wyatt before, he looked even more like him now. “Wyatt’s been holding out on me.”

  “And me.” Saalik tipped his head, studying him. “He never mentioned you were twins.”

  “Yeah, he’d like to pretend we’re not even brothers.” He bent down to place the bottle into the box with the other things he’d obviously planned to steal from the apartment. “I always thought if there were such things as genies, they’d be hot women.”

  “I’m afraid we can be hot men, too.” That made Teddy laugh.

  “So, I have three wishes?”

  “I’m sure you do.” Saalik nodded in agreement. He may not have been capable of lying to the keeper of his vessel, but he was not in the mood to make it easy. “But there are ground rules.”

  “No. None of that.” Teddy hefted the box into his arms. “Genie and Jinn are tricksters. Wyatt and I watched something online about that once.”

  “You got me.” Saalik folded his arms. He could tell that Wyatt’s brother was not completely wasted, but he wasn’t completely sober either. “So, what’s that first wish?”

  “Not here.” He walked to the door, box in hand. “Get in the bottle.”

  “You wish me to get in the bottle?”

  “No. No wish. Forget it. But we’re leaving before Wyatt gets back.”

  “Of course.” Saalik stood, walking to join him at the door. “I just assumed. My mistake.”

  “You just assume what?”

  “There’s always a twin in charge, isn’t there? The alpha or some such thing?” Saalik shrugged. “I never would have imagined it was poor Wyatt.”

  “Fuck off.” Teddy pulled the door open, stepping out in the hall to lean over the railing to see if the downstairs foyer was empty. Mrs. Cain was there, cell phone to her ear. “Shit. We’ll take the fire escape.”

  “Or we could go up to Abel’s old room.”

  Teddy gave him a look.

  “I’m just saying, Abel died a few weeks ago, and he left stuff far more valuable than some old camera. Where do you think Wyatt found me?”

  That ended the discussion and Teddy, instead of heading back into the apartment, took the stairs that led up to the third floor. He checked the locked door.

  “Want me to open it?”

  “I’m not wasting a fucking wish—”

  Before he could finish his sentence, Saalik pushed past him, opened the door himself, and stepped inside, Teddy at his back.

  “Jesus Christ. It’s like a fucking museum in here.”

  “I thought you’d like it.”

  Chapter 17

  Wyatt pushed past Samuel, who grabbed at his jacket.

  “Wyatt? Where are you—”

  “I…excuse me.” He didn’t wait for Samuel’s response, just pushed through the crowd to the spot where Saal had vanished. There were still faint plumes of smoke, but no one around him seemed to have noticed, too busy laughing and talking and draining the champagne from their glasses.

  “Did you see…” But no one was listening either.

  He made his way to the door, forcing his way out against the entering crowd, but on the busy sidewalk, he couldn’t see him anywhere.

  Wyatt needed to go home. He turned, nearly colliding with Vanessa.

  “What’s wrong? You need to get back inside.”

  “I can’t.”

  “What do you mean, you can’t?”

  “Please.” Wyatt felt a panic welling up inside him. “I need to grab a cab. I need…I need to borrow a few bucks. It’s an emergency.”

  Vanessa glared at him, but after a moment, her look of frustration melted away, replaced by something else.

  “Okay, kid.” The posh accent was gone and she dug into the bag tied around her wrist, handing him a credit card. “Don’t make me regret this.”

  Chapter 18

  Saalik paced Abel’s front room and listened to Teddy crashing around in the bedroom. Every few minutes he glanced out the window, scanning the street for Wyatt, but there was no sign of him.

 

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