Page 23 of Mistaken

Even though the food had been delicious, anxiety still knotted her stomach. It was one thing to tell herself to be chill about her stay here, that sooner or later the cavalry would come to get her at some point, and quite another to look at the time stamp on the iPad she held and know that in about twelve hours or so, she was supposed to show up at the rendezvous point in La Chuachia.

That definitely wasn’t going to happen.

Or at least, she couldn’t think of a way she could get out of here.

Unless….

Had Abdul been lying to her when he’d said he could sense her presence, that he’d know if she was no longer somewhere close to the house?

Hard to say. She wracked her brain, trying to recall every single scrap of information or gossip she’d heard about the djinn. There were four kinds, corresponding to the four elements, although the only way to know which power a djinn commanded was to see him or her using it. They lived for what felt like forever, but they could be wounded. Problem was, any injuries they suffered healed in almost no time, which meant they were almost impossible to kill.

Not that she would ever try to hurt Abdul. Yes, he was holding her captive here, but he’d been almost courteous the whole time, and she knew she just didn’t have it in her to creep up on him in his sleep and stick a butcher knife in his neck or something.

Even if she was that murderous, she doubted she’d be able to get close enough to indulge in that kind of carnage.

Anyway, as much as she pummeled her brain, she couldn’t remember anyone saying anything about djinn having a sixth sense about whether a human was nearby, which didn’t help at all. Maybe Abdul was lying…or maybe she’d never heard about that particular djinn gift simply because no one she knew had ever mentioned it.

Either way, she didn’t think it was anything she wanted to put to the test.

And that meant all she could do now was try to sleep and see what the next day might bring. For the moment, she had a measure of freedom, and throwing that away on a half-baked plan to escape didn’t seem like a very good idea.

Like it or not, she knew she would have to sit tight and wait for the cavalry to arrive.

Sarah appeared composed enough the next morning when she emerged from her room — this time in an outfit of the djinn-style flowing tunics and slim pants he’d provided — but something about her seemed almost subdued, as if a second night spent here had convinced her that her captivity was going to be of some duration.

Good. She needed to face her new reality, however unpleasant it might be.

Then again, he thought it was equally unpleasant for him. He had expected to spend days of quiet solitude here, and not have to worry about the emotional vagaries of some human female. Yes, the current situation was his doing, for quite a few djinn would have simply tossed her over a cliff and been done with her, and he knew he was not quite that bloodthirsty.

At any rate, not on such an individual level.

She ate a little more this morning, though, consuming the vegetable frittata and bowl of fresh fruit he’d conjured for their breakfast. As he watched her — or rather, did his best not to seem as though he was observing her while regarding her from behind the drooping edge of his hood — a sudden thought struck him.

“You said you went riding here when you visited as a child,” he said. “Would you be interested in a ride today?”

Her startled gaze met his. Now, after a few days spent in her presence, he knew her eyes weren’t precisely hazel, but an odd, deep tone somewhere between green and blue, so dark that good lighting was required to see they were not brown at all. “Horseback riding?” she responded, tone just as hesitant as her expression.

“Yes,” he said. “I can summon mounts that would be suitable for both of us. It would allow you to see more of Ghost Ranch.”

“More places that you’ve altered?” she asked, her full mouth quirking a little.

“No,” he replied, his tone a bit more severe than he had intended. “I have only touched the more public spaces here at the ranch. There was no need to do anything more than that, for the majority of these lands had been left unspoiled, save for riding and hiking trails.”

She appeared cheered by that prospect. “Then that sounds like a great idea, except….”

“Except what?” he asked.

“That ride here at Ghost Ranch when I was eleven was the last time I was on a horse,” she replied, expression now somewhat rueful. “I’m not exactly what you could call an expert rider.”

“That is fine,” he said, and knew it was. He would make sure one of the horses he summoned was gentle and biddable, and safe for an inexperienced horsewoman. Now he smiled a little under his hood, and added, “You have nothing to fear from a horse conjured for you by a djinn.”

Lindsay Odekirk looked at the clock on her Volvo’s dashboard and frowned. While she knew it was asking a lot to expect Carson and Sarah to have been here right on the dot, they’d all agreed to be back here as close to the time when she’d dropped them off two days ago as they could. That had been around ten in the morning, and now it was past eleven.

Worry crept up in her, adding an extra layer of unease to the overall queasiness she’d been battling for the past week. She and Miles hadn’t said anything to anyone yet — well, except Ellen O’Dell, the nurse practitioner who’d helped her through her pregnancy with Dylan — because she was still barely ten weeks along, but as far as Lindsay could tell, everything seemed pretty normal. Maybe a little more morning sickness than she’d had last time, although nothing she could call incapacitating.

It also hadn’t helped that Miles didn’t want her coming out here at all, arguing that she could send someone else and she shouldn’t be taking any unnecessary risks. She’d brushed off his objections, telling him she’d driven to the drop-off point several days ago and everything had gone like clockwork.

Except it definitely wasn’t clockwork today, not with her two volunteers more than an hour late.

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