Three Wishes Chapter 11

“So, you finally decided to join us,” Amid taunted, bringing the blade of the knife he held up to Christine’s throat.

“Release her!” Tariq thundered, taking a step towards them. He saw the blood running down Christine’s cheek and his hatred for Amid knew no bounds.

Amid pressed the blade harder against Christine’s throat until she cried out. “Stop where you are, Tariq. I am the one in control here, not you. If you want no further harm done to her, you will keep your distance.”

Tariq stayed where he was. Somehow, he had to let Christine know how to release him from the lamp. Only then could he save her. Right now, Amid WAS in control. He had the power to send Tariq back to his Lamp and there was precious time left. Tariq had to stop Amid now, for he would never allow Christine to be harmed because of him. “Your fight is with me, Amid. Let Christine go and we can settle this,” he finally said softly.

“I think not, Tariq. You see I have learned that you have a weakness. She is your weakness and I plan to exploit that to the fullest until you are destroyed. So we will finally settle this, but not in your favor.” Amid smiled calmly.

“You will never win, Amid. You harm her and I will hunt you down to the ends of the earth,” Tariq growled, his dark eyes blazing.

“Oh really?” Amid replied, looking quite bored. “And how will you do that when you are locked away in your Lamp and buried in a volcano somewhere in Mexico?”

“Because I know how you were freed,” Tariq answered so softly that Amid almost didn’t hear it.

Amid’s eyes snapped with fury. “You lie. You know nothing. If you knew, you would already be free.”

Tariq willed Christine to look at him. How could he tell her? He was running out of time. Genies could do many things, but telepathy was not one of them. He could only sense Christine and come to her when she called because that was part of the rules of the Lamp. He had that ability with anyone who called him. Christine looked at Tariq through pain-glazed eyes. Her cheek was pulsating in a dull ache and she was afraid. She swallowed visibly and silently pleaded with Tariq to end this. How had he found out how to be released and why hadn’t he released himself? And then suddenly she knew. It came to her from nowhere, somehow she knew without knowing how she knew. And it was so simple. God, why hadn’t she thought of it before? Christine wondered if she could get the words out before Amid slit her throat. She glanced at the small clock that sat across the room and saw that there was less than two minutes left until midnight.
“Tariq,” she rasped, wincing in pain from the movement her mouth made when she spoke.

“Shut up, Christine!” Amid commanded, shaking her until her head hurt.

But for Christine, it was now or never. She would risk death for Tariq. If she died saving him, then so be it. “I wish you free from the Lamp,” she nearly shouted.

“You bitch!” Amid screamed and threw her back against the wall. He started to draw his hand back to slam the long blade into her stomach, but a blinding light stopped him. Releasing her, she slid to the floor and they both watched in awe as Tariq was shrouded in light and then he was bodily lifted a few feet off the floor. The gold bands that shackled his wrists and ankles fell to the floor and then as suddenly as it appeared, the light was gone and Tariq dropped to the floor, landing on his hands and knees.

Tariq lifted his head and his soft brown eyes met Christine’s for a brief moment, but in that brief moment a million things were silently said. Then his eyes darkened in anger as he stood to face Amid. “No! I will not let you destroy everything I have worked so hard for,” Amid screamed.

“It ends here and now, Amid,” Tariq answered calmly.

“Not quite yet,” Amid answered and began to chant in a foreign language. He finished but nothing happened. Amid frowned. “Why hasn’t my spell worked? It should have worked!”

Tariq’s smile was humorless. “Didn’t you know Amid, that our magic and spells do not work on each other? According to the curse, one of us must destroy the other to break it, but we cannot use magic. It must be done in mortal ways.”

Amid suddenly growled as he charged Tariq, only Tariq was no longer there. Amid screamed his rage and spun around to find Tariq behind him. Tariq planted his fist square in Amid’s face, sending him sprawling backwards to land on the floor in a heap. Amid wiped blood from his mouth and glared at Tariq.

“So be it, Tariq. To the death then,” Amid growled as he stood to face his greatest and most hated enemy.

Christine gasped from her position on the floor. She had forgotten until now what Tariq had said about ending the curse. One of them must die and it must be done by the hand of the other. “Tariq, no!” she cried out softly. She could not bear the thought of Tariq dying. If somehow Amid were to kill him… She shuddered at the thought.

Christine’s soft cry to him distracted him just enough for Amid to attack. Just as his eyes met hers, Amid slammed into his body, sending them both crashing into the dresser. The knife that Amid had been holding skidded across the floor and bounced off the night stand on the other side of the bed. Christine watched in horror as the two men struggled on the floor, until finally Tariq got his foot under Amid and shoved him away. Amid stumbled back and bumped against the bed. He caught himself and started to charge Tariq again, but he had a better idea. He spun and lunged at Christine who had stood up and was now looking at him with wide eyes as he came at her. And then quite suddenly she was gone. He heard a shriek from the other side of the room. Spinning, he saw Christine leaning heavily against the bathroom door.

“Christine,” Tariq said calmly. “Go into the bathroom and lock the door.” Christine didn’t hesitate; she stumbled inside the bathroom and slammed the door shut, locking it.

Amid turned back to Tariq and laughed. “You think that will keep me from getting to her?”

“No. I will keep you from getting to her,” Tariq answered as he prepared to attack. “Putting her in the bathroom will keep her out of the way.”

“You arrogant son of a bitch. You will not keep me from her. She was mine first!” Amid nearly shouted. His rage propelled him across the room towards Tariq. Tariq sidestepped him, raising his fists, locked together, and slamming them into Amid’s back as he flew past him. The action caused Amid to crash into the broken dresser.

This is too easy, Tariq thought to himself and for a split second, Tariq dropped his guard, but it was all Amid needed. Turning over, Amid swept his foot out and caught Tariq by the back of the leg and sent him sprawling to the floor. It momentarily stunned him so that Amid was able to rise over him, kicking him hard in the ribs. Tariq grunted as he felt a rib crack. He felt intense pain shooting through his chest, but he pushed it from his mind. Amid raised his foot up to stomp on him. Tariq caught his foot and shoved, causing Amid to crash to the floor.

Tariq rolled over and painfully rose to his feet. His left arm curled around his ribs in self-protection as he winced in pain with every move he made. Amid stood up, smiling. He’d scored a point and now that Tariq was wounded, it was only a matter of time before he claimed victory. They circled around, keeping each other before the other. Tariq looked around frantically, looking for a weapon. He knew Amid had had a knife, but had no clue as to where it went. Tariq saw a flash over near the nightstand. There on the floor, by the nightstand, was the knife. Amid lunged in suddenly and his fist caught Tariq on his cracked rib. Tariq’s jaw clenched, keeping him from screaming. The pain was so intense, it drove him to his knees. Amid punched Tariq in the stomach, then an upper cut to the jaw, sending Tariq flying backwards to land on his back, knocking the wind from his lungs.

“Not so arrogant now, are you, Tariq?” Amid taunted as he leaned over him. Amid strolled over to the bathroom door and tapped on it. “Get ready for me Christy. I’m coming for you next,” he called, rubbing his hands together in glee. He turned back just in time to see Tariq stumble to his feet. “Going somewhere, old buddy?” he asked, stalking towards Tariq.

Pushing all the pain aside, Tariq threw himself across the bed. He tucked himself in as he rolled across it to land on his feet on the other side. Scooping up the knife, he rose up and turned just as Amid came flying across the bed to crash into him, sending them both crashing to the floor. It was several seconds before Tariq realized that Amid was not moving. Shoving Amid off him, Amid rolled over on to his back. Tariq saw the knife protruding from Amid’s chest.

Amid opened his eyes. They were glazed over as he stared up at Tariq. He opened his mouth to say something, but only emitted a gurgling sound as his eyes rolled up and he died. Tariq could only sit there and stare at Amid’s lifeless body. Then suddenly, a bright light engulfed Amid’s body. Just as it had lifted Tariq from the floor earlier, it now lifted Amid’s lifeless body from the floor. Then just as suddenly, the light and Amid were gone. Tariq blinked several times before he realized it was truly over. That finally, after three thousand years, he had his revenge and he could live in peace. The powers were gone. He could sense nothing but the beating of his own heart. Tariq was mortal again. His dark eyes turned towards the bathroom door.

“Christine,” he whispered as he forced himself to his feet. He stumbled over to the bathroom door and leaned heavily against the doorframe. “Christine,” he called softly to her.

“Tariq?” Her sweet voice floated to him through the door. “Is that you, Tariq?”

“Yes, Christine,” he answered. “It’s over.”

He heard the lock pop on the bathroom door as Christine turned the knob. The door opened and she caught him as he collapsed in her arms, knocking them both to the floor. “Tariq?” Christine called to him frantically. “You’re hurt.” She settled his head into her lap.

“I think I have a cracked rib,” he whispered as he lifted a hand to wipe a tear from her cheek.

“Are you sure it’s not your head that’s cracked?” she scolded him as she leaned over and kissed his face. Tariq laughed, then groaned in pain as his arms curled around his ribs. “Is it really over, Tariq?”

“Yes, my sweet princess, it is really over. Amid is dead.” Tariq smiled lovingly up at her.

Christine stroked his face, his beard as she gazed down at him in concern. “And you’re mortal again?” she asked tentatively.

Tariq nodded. “Yes, I am mortal again.”

Christine sighed as she leaned over and pressed her lips to Tariq’s. “I love you, Tariq.”

“Hmmmm, I love you too, Christine.” Tariq answered as his hand slipped up behind her head and drew her down for another kiss.

One year later . . .

Christine gasped softly as Tariq slowly drew a nipple into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around it, then nipped at it playfully, before releasing it. They had married after Tariq had healed from his cracked rib and he had sought citizenship. It had taken some work to convince INS that he wasn’t a terrorist or a spy because he had no identification papers. But they had finally given him a green card and told him it would be a while before he could hope for citizenship. But at least he had an identity now and he could marry Christine legally.

Tariq rose up over her as she lay beneath him on the bed. He smiled down at her as he threaded his fingers through her hair and kissed her mouth. “Are you sure it’s safe now?” he asked, a bit concerned.

Christine nodded. “Yes, I got the okay this morning, now shut up and make love to me!” she grumbled as she pulled his head back down for a searing kiss.

Tariq needed no more encouragement. He parted her legs with his and settled himself between them. His hand slipped down between them as his fingers slid inside her moist sheath. There was no doubt in his mind that she was ready. God, he’d been ready for months! He removed his fingers and quickly replaced them with the tip of his hard length. He probed her wetness, before easing into her tightness. He heard her sharp gasp and he stopped. “Christine,” he rasped between clenched teeth.

“I’m fine, Tariq. It’s just been a while.” She lifted her legs around his hips and quite suddenly forced him all the way in. He sunk deep inside her, his mouth found hers and he swallowed her yelp. After a moment he began to move. His hips rose and fell slowly, easily as he made love to her thoroughly. Christine dug her nails into his back as the knot that started between her legs began to tighten. Her body tensed as it her moved closer and closer to her release. Tariq picked up the pace as his own climax approached. He reached his right arm back and hooked it behind her knee to draw her leg forward. He sunk further into her and that’s all it took to send her over the edge. Christine cried out as her release nearly overwhelmed her. Her body shuddered almost violently as her muscles clenched and contracted. Tariq shouted his own release seconds later as he pumped his essence into her before collapsing on top of her.

Tariq rolled over taking her with him. He held her tight as they both struggled to calm their breathing. They both were covered in a light sheen of sweat, as they lay entwined in each other’s arms. They lay there silently, just enjoying the feel of each other. Christine rested her head against his chest listening to the steady beat of his heart. Even now, a year later, she could hardly believe that he was mortal and that he was hers. Tariq’s lamp sat in a glass case as a memento to his past. He never wanted to take life for granted again.

Tariq’s hand skimmed down her waist, and then came back up to cup her breast. She felt his manhood brush against her thigh as he moved to his back and dragged her up on top of him. Christine laughed. “Trying to make up for lost time, Tariq?” she asked as he kissed her.

“Damn straight. I’ve got several months of making up to do,” he answered, his hands moving down over her nicely rounded ass.

Just then a baby’s cry pierced the air. Tariq groaned softly. “Don’t tell me he’s hungry again. The little bugger just ate not an hour ago.”

Christine laughed as she pushed away from Tariq and stood. She left the room, then returned a few minutes later with their son in her arms. Tariq had turned on the lamp beside the bed and had propped up some pillows for Christine. She settled herself on the bed and leaned against the pillows, bringing the cooing baby to her breast. He latched on quickly and began to enthusiastically suckle his momma’s milk. Tariq bent and kissed his son’s dark curly head then sighed.

“I think I’m jealous of my own son, Christine. This does not bode well for me,” Tariq complained as he watched her nurse their son.

Christine smiled down at him. “It won’t be forever, Tariq. Be happy that you have a son to be jealous of!”

“Ouch.” Tariq winced as he looked up at her sheepishly. “I’ve been duly chastised.” He smiled then as he ran a finger over his son’s soft skin. “He certainly is a miracle to me. Thank you, Christine. I never dreamed that I would someday have a beautiful wife to grow old with and handsome son to watch grow up to become a man.”

Tariq kissed his son’s forehead and then kissed his wife. Leaning back, he sighed contentedly and drifted off to sleep to the sounds of his son sucking noisily.

The End.