Three Wishes Chapter 10

“Fascinating,” was all Tariq could say when Christine booted up her computer and logged onto the internet. Initiating the search engine, she typed in different subjects that could relate to their problem. Each search produced a long list of possible sites. It was well into the night when they looked at the last possible site. Christine slumped down in her chair, defeated. She buried her face in hands and began to cry from frustration and exhaustion.

Strong arms circled her and lifted her up. Tariq settled himself on the chair with Christine in his lap. She buried her face in his neck and cried. He stroked her hair with his fingers, feeling the silky softness of her long brown hair slip through them. She was so beautiful, so gentle and caring and he did not have the right to put her through any of this. He sighed as he nuzzled his face into her hair and breathed deeply. What he wouldn’t do for this woman in his arms. He loved her fiercely. His fingers found her chin and lifted her face. He gently kissed away her tears then captured her lips with his.

Tariq could taste the saltiness of her tears on her lips as he caressed her bottom lip with his tongue. He heard her soft intake of breath as heat spiraled through her body. Wiggling closer into the heat of his body, Christine returned his kiss with a fierceness that she did not know she possessed. Tariq groaned as he shifted her till she was straddling his hips.

“Christine. . .” Tariq breathed against her soft swollen lips. “Christine, my sweet princess.” His mouth devoured hers as his tongue thrust into hers to drink of her sweetness.

Breaking the kiss and pushing away from him, Christine suddenly stood and ran away from him.

“Christine?” Tariq called after her, clearly confused.

Anger filled her till she felt like she might explode from it. Christine hated that Lamp. She bounded up the stairs two at a time and ran to the attic door. Flinging it open she ran up the short flight of stairs and headed to the small hidden compartment in the floorboards where they kept Tariq’s Lamp hidden. She wasn’t sure what she planned to do with it, but she had to do something, anything. Tearing the small chunk of floorboard away she reached in and found nothing. The compartment was empty. Her hand searched wildly, but it was empty. Had Tariq moved the Lamp and not told her?

“Looking for this, my dear?”

Christine gasped and spun around on her knees. Tom stood a few feet away from her holding Tariq’s Lamp. “No!” It came out barely a whisper.

Tom grinned evilly. “Oh yes!”

“Christine? Are you alright?” Tariq’s voice drifted up as he climbed the stairs to the attic.

Before Christine could call out a warning, Tom closed the distance between them and slugged her, knocking her out cold. Christine fell to the floor and Tom scooped her up quickly. “Not yet, my sweet. I still have plans for the both of you,” he whispered in her ear, and they vanished from the attic.

“Christine?” Tariq called out again as he reached the top step of the attic. He looked around, but Christine wasn’t anywhere in sight. Moving further into the room, he rounded some stacked boxes that blocked his view from the secret floorboard compartment where his Lamp was kept safely hidden. Tariq frowned. Something was not right. Christine should have answered him by now. A sudden sense of foreboding swept over him when he saw the secret floorboard had been pried open. Looking wildly around the attic again, panic began to seep into his brain.

“Christine? Answer me now!” Nothing, only silence. Tariq moved to the secret compartment and shoved his hand in, already knowing what he’d find. The Lamp was gone and so was Christine. “Amid!” Tariq breathed, his voice hard and unforgiving.

“You rang, old friend?” a familiar voice called out from behind him.

Tariq straightened and turned slowly to face his enemy. His brown eyes darkened till they were almost black, they were so full of rage. Amid stood a few feet from him, his arms crossed and looking quite smug. Amid glanced down at the opening in the floor and smiled.

“Lose something?” he teased playfully, enjoying his game.

“Where is she?” Tariq asked, his deep voice soft and deadly.

“Where is who, Tariq?” Amid feigned ignorance.

Tariq took a threatening step forward. “You know damn well who! Where is she, Amid? Where is Christine?”

“Now, now, you had better keep your distance, Tariq or you will never find her. I would hate for my beautiful wife to come to harm because of your impatience,” Amid warned.

“She is not your wife any longer. And you know as well as I that she can summon me at any time. Now where the hell is she?” Tariq took another step.

“So what is she waiting for, then? Why are you asking me where she is if she can summon you?” Amid laughed. “I’m afraid that Christine is quite incapable of calling to you any time in the immediate future, my friend, so I’d watch my step if I was you” Amid stated, enjoying the anguish on Tariq’s face.

Tariq froze. Fear replaced anger as he considered what Amid might have done with her. “What did you do?” he whispered softly.

“She is not dead if that’s what you’re thinking. Not yet anyways. She is merely under a sleeping spell so that she can not call to you until I am ready,” Tom answered with a smile.

“Damn you, Amid! If you harm one hair on her head, no force on this earth will keep me from hunting you down!” Tariq hissed, his anger returning tenfold. His hands clenched at his side and his jaw muscles twitched with the force of his anger.

Amid’s smile faded from his face and for a brief moment, fear of Tariq flashed in his dark eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came and Tariq was unsure if he actually saw anything. Now anger filled Amid as he hated weakness. He was not afraid of Tariq and he would get what he wanted. He always got what he wanted.

“Don’t threaten me, Tariq,” he growled softly. “By the way, keep this close.” Amid tossed Tariq his Lamp. “You won’t want to lose it, now will you?” Tariq glared at Amid as he caught the Lamp easily. “Now, I’ve got things to do, so don’t go anywhere. I’ll be in touch when I’m ready for you to find us.” And with that Amid was gone.

The next two days were excruciatingly painful for Tariq. Time was close for him to return to the Lamp and he had no clue as to where Amid had taken Christine. In a last ditch effort, he went back to the hotel where he had found them before, hoping that Amid would have been foolish enough to return there too, but the room was empty with no trace of Amid or Christine having been there recently.

Returning back to Christine’s house, he looked at the clock. It was growing late. He would return to the Lamp at the stroke of midnight. That gave him four hours to either find Christine or to find what caused Amid to be freed from his Lamp. He knew that until Christine could call to him, he would never find her, so he plopped down on the couch and began to think. What had he learned about being a Genie over the last 3,000 years? He had tremendous power, he could grant almost any wish. He had immortality, eternal youth. There were guidelines that they must follow, rules to obey. How had Amid done it? Tariq nearly drove himself insane thinking about it.

Tariq jumped up from the couch and began to pace the length of the living room. He was a Genie, for god’s sake, he granted wishes! Why couldn’t he . . . Tariq froze as he realized what he’d been thinking. He granted wishes. The rules were quite clear on what those wishes could NOT be. What if?

Tariq shook his head, his thick mane of black curls thrashing about his face. “No,” he whispered softly. “It couldn’t be that simple.”

He began to pace again, but his thoughts kept returning to that one point. What if it was possible? Could it be so easy? He had to find Christine! And then as if he’d summoned her, her voice screamed in his head driving him to his knees.

TARIQ!

Tariq cried out at the excruciating pain that slammed through his brain, his hands clutching at his head as it felt like shards of glass were stabbing him. Staggering to his feet, he forced himself to focus on the mental path that would take him to Christine. Finding it, he vanished.

Christine slowly worked her way back to consciousness. Her brain was in a fog and she felt she was weighted down. She found it hard to open her eyelids they refused to cooperate. She groaned softly and rolled over onto her back. At least that’s what she thought she was doing.

Finally Christine forced her eyelids open and took in the room she was in. She frowned, confused. Where was she? Sitting up slowly, she rubbed her face with her hands trying to think. The last thing she remembered was spending hours on the internet searching for a way to release Tariq from his Lamp. They had found nothing. She had been angry and had wanted to lash out at the Lamp. She had run upstairs to the attic and . . .

Christine looked frantically around her. “Oh god, no,” she whispered to herself.

Christine’s head whipped around as the bedroom door opened and Tom stepped into the room holding an old looking book in one hand and a switchblade in the other. He smiled coldly at her. “Well, I see you are finally awake.”

“Where have you brought me, Tom?” Christine asked, eyeing the switchblade warily. She was terrified, but tried hard not to show it.

“Does it really matter, Christy?” Tom asked. He walked over to the dresser and sat the book and switchblade on top of it. He moved across the room and grabbed a chair and brought it over by the dresser.

“What are you doing? What’s the book and knife for?” Christine asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

“It’s time for you to call Tariq here, now,” Tom answered as he turned back to face Christine.

“No,” Christine answered. “It’s obvious now that you are setting a trap for him. I will not do it.”

Tom picked up the switchblade and opened it up, revealing a long, sharp blade. He made a show of examining it, running his finger along the edge of the blade. “If you do not call him now, I will have to mar that beautiful face of yours.” His dark eyes suddenly focused on her and he smiled evilly at her. “You wouldn’t want that would you, Christy?”

Fear like she’d never known raced through her body. Christine bolted from the bed and almost made it to the bedroom door, when a vise-like grip grabbed her by the arm, spun her around, grabbed her by the throat and slammed her hard against the door. Stunned, Christine couldn’t move and could hardly breath. Tom moved forward until his body pressed against hers and his face was inches from her own. Bringing the switchblade up, he pressed the flat of the blade against her cheek, and then angled it slightly until the sharp point indented against her skin, but not enough to draw blood.

Christine cried out, her heart slamming in her chest. Her hazel eyes wide with fear, looked down at the sharp knife poking into her cheek. “No, please Tom,” she pleaded frantically.

“Call him,” Tom commanded, leaning in to whisper it harshly in her ear.

Christine closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to look at him or at the knife. Trying desperately to get a hold of her fear, she answered shakily, “No.”

Excruciating pain ripped through her face as Tom drew the switchblade across her cheek, cutting it open. Christine screamed as blood ran from the deep cut and tears began to run down her cheeks. TARIQ! Her mind screamed, but out loud she only managed another “No. I will not call him!” She sobbed as the muscles in her jaw shot another bolt of pain through her cheek from moving them to talk.

But it was too late. Her mind had already screamed for him, even as she said no with her voice. Suddenly remembering the last time Tariq had surprised him in the motel, Tom spun around, dragging Christine with him. He turned her so that her back was to him. He brought his arm around her waist, holding her against him and had the knife ready. Seconds later, Tariq appeared in the room and he looked as if he was bringing a violent storm with him.