Page 48 of Mistaken

A minute to blot her hair and comb it through, and then she returned to the living room, where Abdul already had a pair of big mugs filled with hot chocolate sitting on the coffee table.

“I did not know whether you wanted marshmallows,” he said. He had been waiting on the sofa and obviously expected her to sit there as well.

They’d never been seated so close before, but she told herself that he’d already taken her by the arms, so sitting down a foot away from him honestly didn’t seem like that big a deal.

“Marshmallows would be great,” she replied. She’d had cocoa this way a few times after coming to live in Los Alamos, but eventually, the marshmallows had disappeared, just like so many other items that couldn’t be easily replaced with the resources and technology the survivors there had on hand.

At once, the surface of both cups of hot chocolate bobbed with miniature marshmallows. Sarah reached out to lift the mug to her lips and took a sip that included one of the soft little white pillows of rich, sugary goodness.

That was probably the best marshmallow she’d ever had, creamy and not as sweet as she’d expected, and the hot chocolate was the same way, dark and satisfying, tasting like it had been made with the real stuff and not some powdered junk out of a can.

“This is amazing,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a better cup of hot chocolate, not even at this fancy place in Santa Fe I visited one time.”

“I am glad you like it,” Abdul replied.

Lightning flashed in the storm-darkened room, and the thunder that pounded a second later was so loud, it sounded as if it must have been directly overhead.

“Good thing we came inside when we did,” Sarah remarked.

Abdul sipped from his mug of hot chocolate, then inclined his head. “Yes, this storm is quite a violent one. That was why I thought it better to whisk us away at once.”

“Definitely a good call.” For some reason, she couldn’t quite ignore the way she seemed to still feel the pressure of his fingers on her wrists, gripping them tightly so there would be no chance of her slipping away while they traveled in that instantaneous but still scary djinn fashion. “I could say I’m surprised it blew in so quickly, but weather in New Mexico is like that.”

“Yes, I am beginning to understand that one should not take it lightly.” He set down his mug and gazed out the picture window that overlooked the valley below. With the rain coming down like this, you could only see about a hundred feet at best, and Sarah knew that the washes and creeks they’d explored over the past couple of days must be filled to the brim already, raging and rushing as they made their way down to the Rio Chama.

She remembered how Abdul had told her that he’d only been here for a week or so, which explained why he wasn’t yet familiar with how these summer storms could come out of seemingly nowhere.

“Well, no harm, no foul,” she said, and he cocked his head at her.

“I beg your pardon?”

It seemed that, while his English appeared to be near-perfect, he still had some trouble with human idioms.

And honestly, she couldn’t say for sure where the phrase had even come from.

“I think it’s a baseball thing,” she explained. “When the pitcher throws a ball and it goes outside the foul lines, then it’s a foul. But the saying is more like, nobody got hurt, so it’s all good.”

“Interesting.”

He picked up his mug of hot chocolate and drank again, and Sarah did the same. Although she supposed it could have been awkward for the two of them to be sitting here like this, somehow she didn’t mind at all. No, she kind of liked knowing he was right there, ready to protect her no matter what.

Which, she told herself immediately, was stupid. She could manage just fine on her own and didn’t need anyone — let alone a djinn who happened to be holding her prisoner — to keep her safe.

But still…he’d immediately leaped into action once he knew how real the danger was, standing out there in the storm. Sure, she could have hurried up her strong, independent ass and bolted for the house, and yet there was no guarantee she would have made it inside before one of those lightning bolts decided she was an excellent target.

Although the two of them had shared plenty of moments when they were both quiet and didn’t feel any need to speak, right then, Sarah thought the silence seemed a bit too awkward.

Or maybe that was just her realizing that she was thinking a bit too kindly of Abdul than she probably should.

“And this is just the beginning of monsoon season,” she went on, knowing the words were coming out a little too fast but not sure how to stop herself. “It usually really starts to crank up in July and August, and it’s just barely June now.”

He set down his mug and got up from the sofa, moving toward the window. The rain still poured down and thunder still rumbled, although the seconds between lightning flashes and echoing rumbles seemed to be increasing, a sign that the storm had begun to move away.

“I like these monsoons of yours,” he commented. “The skies in the otherworld never did anything like this.”

“The otherworld,” Sarah ventured. “That’s where the djinn lived before they came here, right?”

“Yes,” Abdul said. “It is a place that never changes. Or rather, while the colors in the sky may shift and boil, there is nothing like terrestrial weather there. It simply…is.”

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