Djinn Boyfriend: Horirem #1 (complete)

The antique shop is bigger than I had expected it to be. From the front, it looks like an ordinary store with a vintage shop front. Inside, the ceiling is much higher and the space expands far, far back.I wasn’t invited here to shop, however, my relative had invited me to the store to have look over his recent purchase of his. To be honest, I’m not exactly sure how I am related to this guy.

“Glad you could make it,” he walks me through the store and it somehow keeps getting bigger. Aisles and aisles of all sorts of antiques and gifts go through the store, turning into some Twilight Zone department store.

“Yes, well, you made the offer very hard to turn down.” I tell him. “And uh...What was your name again?”

He turns and smiles at me. “Just call me Robin,” he replies. He then shows me into a back room where the door is an old tapestry. “Anyways, I came across this and I didn’t want it going into the wrong hands before I-” He stops and looks over at me. “What are you doing?”

I’m looking over the tapestry in awe. I recognize the fabric as something dating back farther than there were forks. “This has got to be something worth hanging in a museum! Are you sure you want it hanging up as a door?”

Robin chuckles. “It was made for that. That isn’t why I asked you here. Come in.”

I reluctantly leave the tapestry and go over to the wooden crate he’s reached inside of. He pulls out from inside the stuffing and protective wrapping a urn that is of a style I had never seen before. The bottle is ornate and beautiful, the gold of it is dingy and in need of a cleaning, but the red and yellow glass that decorates it is shining brilliantly.

“I was hoping you could help me with this piece.” He sets it down on the table top. “It needs restoring terribly.”

“Oh, wow.” I step towards the urn and I look it over. At least, I had assumed it was a urn, but neither end of it is open. It is sealed on each side and there appears to be a seam down the center. I place my glasses on my nose and don a pair of gloves so that I can look at it more closely. “I don’t even know what it is.” I run my finger down the seam and then smooth my finger along the intricate glass work. 

“Well, there’s no one I trust with it more than you.” Robin smiles at me. “I want you to take your time with this one, I think it will be a marvel once it is restored. A real centerpiece.” 

I place the strange object back into the crate and Robin seals it up. “Where did you buy it?” I ask him. “Where did it come from?”

“I have my fingers in a lot of pies,” Robin replies with a smirk. “Sometimes those pies are--oh, what’s the word? Illegal?”

I frown at him and bunch up my gloves in my fist. “You didn’t steal this, did you?”

Robin throws his head back and laughs. “Of course not! But it’s been stolen a few times before.” He hands me the case with the object in it. “I simply want to give it some peace. It doesn’t belong sealed away anymore. Daylight, that’s what it needs.”

I sigh and take the crate from him. “You’re lucky I follow the sentiment, otherwise, I would tell you to take your ill gotten gains and shove them.”

“That is why I called for you. You’ve had your fingers in many pies over the years as well. Archaeology digs, museum organizing, auctioneer, writer, researcher, restorer. Why, you’ve done everything for history except make it.”

I look over his face, wondering what sort of game he is playing. There is a twinkle in his eye that urges me not to trust him, but I can’t help but want to take this relic home with me if only to learn about a history I don’t know. I’m not getting any younger by any means, and I want to keep discovering while I can.

“I’ll pay you in advance,” Robin says.

“You’ll what?” I gasp.

“I don’t expect you to do this work for free, no way.” Robin leads me back to the front. He stoops under the counter and fidgets around for a moment. Once he pops back up, he lays three rolls of money on the table. “I hope this will cover everything.”

I pick up one of the rolls and look at him like he’s crazy. “Cash?”

Robin smirks. “I’m not an idiot.”

“You sure?” I cock an eyebrow at him. I had done quite a few back alley dealings in my day, but this one seems far more dangerous than any dark corner in Russia I had been down.

“Positive.” Robin sweeps the rolls into a cute vintage purse and hands it to me. “Just a bonus.”

I cautiously take the purse. When I leave the store, I watch my surroundings and even above me as if a piano is going to drop on my head. I walk slowly to my car and strap the case into the passenger seat. 

It is dark when I get home and I take the case to my work room where I unpack the artifact and set it on my desk. I position a spotlight over it and, with gloved hands and my magnifying telescopic lenses, I start making my notes. The whole thing looks like it is made from gold and there are etchings in the glass that suggest gold had been there before. The etchings look like writing, but they are so faded I can’t make them out right away.

I take several photographs and then send them out to some old colleagues of mine, hoping they can shed some light on this strange find. Over the years, I had built up a lot of relationships. Much like Robin, I had dealings all over the world, some of them not so good. I had been wise enough to remain friends with people, even after I retired from the digs and the globetrotting. I had settled into museum work in my thirties, intent on making a life and family with a man who turned out to have a family on every continent. He had been my professor in college and we met again when we were working on a dig together. I was foolish and a little desperate, but he was charming and manipulative. I was lucky I never had kids with him, the divorce was messy enough.

I am lucky the friends we had made together still are willing to talk to me. I’m not even sure where my ex is. Last I heard, it is Singapore. Old friends are willing to help me when I need it and I’ll always be grateful for that. I am just bitter I gave up so easily.

In the morning, I wake up to a bevy of emails and responses on the artifact. There is a wide range of guesses, some say it is from the Middle East, other Asia, one wild guess stipulates it is from Pompeii. 

“I would appreciate an image of it taken in daylight if that’s possible,” one email had replied. “Perhaps some sunlight on it will shed some information we can’t see in these photographs.”

I put gloves back on and take the object into the kitchen while my coffee is making. Opening the blinds, I place it on the small table that holds my succulents. I go back to get my camera, but when I return, the artifact is glowing. My jaw drops and my eyes bug as the radiant shine that comes from it pours more like liquid than light. It pours to the ground and then bubbles up like mist. I step out of the kitchen and rub my eyes vigorously before looking back into the room. The object starts to tremble and shake and it falls off the table.

I rush into the room with a scream, hoping to save it from any damage. But as I reach for it on the ground, a hand grabs hold of mine. I stare up through the red filling my kitchen and see a pair of glowing eyes.

“Oh my god.” I am knocked breathless and my heart has dropped into my stomach which has frozen over. 

A low growl echoes in my ears as the hand clutching mine squeezes. The palm is massive and leathery and there is something sharp against the back of my arm.

The red collects and pillows away, filtering through the sunlight coming in to the kitchen. My eyes go to the hand clutching mine and I see it is golden and velvety. The arm is thick like a tree trunk and the shoulder it’s attached to looks like it could break more doors than any fireman. Thick gilted hair runs down his shoulders and back. His wrists, fingers, and chest are covered by ornate ruby jewelry just like the artifact.

And the face, my god his face! He bears a striking resemblance to a powerful lion. Sharp eyes cut through me, the same color as dark evening dusk. I have seen lions in the wild and they are always intimidating, but this one, he needs a new word to describe how frightening he is.

His hand squeezes on my hand more and he pulls me up off the ground. He stares into my eyes then turns his head suddenly when the coffee beeps. 

“Where am I?” he snarls with a voice like stone.

“My house?” My voice cracks from nerves.

He raises my arm and sniffs at my wrist. His cold nose travels down my arm until his face is buried in my neck. He breathes me in there then nuzzles his nose into my hair.

“What is that smell?” he asks.

I’m too afraid to do anything, I just stand there like a statue. “Coconut hibiscus?”

The lion stares into my eyes again. “And who are you?”

“I uh-” My hand starts to tremble in his grasp. “I’m Hazel.”

He looks at my hand then holds it more gently. “Well, Lady Hazel, do you know what you have done?”

I try to swallow but the lump forming in my throat won’t let me. “You’re not Satan, are you?”

The lion chuckles. “My name is Horirem and I have been sealed in that tomb for centuries. You’ve set me free.”

“And that’s…” my eyes dart over him again. “That’s good?”

Horirem lets go of my hand and places a kiss on my forehead. “I am indebted to you, Lady Hazel,” he replies. “I have wishes I can grant you.”

“Wishes?” I blink several times. “Wishes?” I start to laugh. “You mean like a genie? Like Aladdin?”

“I do not know who this Aladdin is, but I was cursed to be a djinn.” Horirem places his hand over his broad chest. 

“What did you do?” I take a cautious step away from him.

Horirem lowers his head. “I put my faith in the wrong people and they used it against me.” He then looks back around my kitchen. He picks up one of my plants and looks it over. “I once served no one, but now I must serve a master, or it is back into my tomb I go.”

I pick up the artifact from the floor. It has split in two and the inside is all raw ruby. It is jagged and sharp, looking like some sort of lovely iron maiden. I look back at Horirem, who is sniffing a pot of aloe.

“So you’re not some sort of evil demon?” I feel stupid asking it.

Horirem’s lip curls and he snarls at me. “I should say not!” He scoffs in offense. “Why would you even say such a thing?”

“Well, it’s just that-” I shake my head and stop myself. “It doesn’t matter. But uhm...You say you grant wishes? How many?”

A grim look crosses Horirem’s face and he clenches his jaw tight. “My curse won’t be lifted until I grant tens of hundreds of thousands.”

“So a million,” I set the object on the table. “Do I get all of those?”

“Until you tire of me and seal me away.” He points to the object. “Or you die.”

I grimace up at him. “These aren’t the kind of wishes that backfire, are they?” I sit down at the table as I try to take all this in. “Like a monkey paw.”

His nose curls. “A what?”

“Oh wow, you are old,” I sigh. Then I gasp. “Not to say that’s a bad thing! I’m old! I’m in my forties-” I laugh anxiously.

Horirem stares at me like I’m crazy.

“A million wishes-” I try to take the subject back. “That does seem like a lot to get through. So what if I said I wished I had the Mona Lisa hanging on the wall right-” I go to point and already the Mona Lisa is hanging on the wall. “Oh! My! God!”

“I think it would be better over there but this is your home.” Horirem folds his arms across his chest.

“Did you steal this?” I screech.

Horirem shrugs. “I don’t know where it came from, you just wished for it.”

I jump up from my seat, looking over the infamous painting with fright and awe. Even when I toured the Louvre, I had never gotten this close to it. “Well send it back! I wish it was back from where it came!”

I blink and the painting is gone. I slouch and grasp my chest. “Oh my god,” I stumble back into my chair.

“That’s two wishes and you accomplished nothing,” Horirem sighs. “Are all your wishes going to be this way, Lady Hazel?”

“Maybe! I don’t know!” I rake my fingers through my hair. “I am not used to this! I’m freaking out! I need my coffee.” I go over to the counter and shakily pour myself a mug and down it despite the heat.

“Do you live alone, Lady Hazel?” Horirem asks me. “I won’t be ‘freaking out’ anyone else, will I?”

I scoff and pour another mug of coffee. “Yes, I live alone.” I turn and look back at him. “Until now, I guess.”

A glimmer appears in Horirem’s eye. “You’ll keep me?”

“Just don’t call me master, I’m not into that,” I huff. “Lady Hazel is fine, just Hazel is better.” I sit back down at the table and rub my temples. “I won’t send you back. Just give me some time to get used to this.”

Horirem stands behind me and places his hands on my shoulders. He starts kneading them and I swear I turn to soft butter instantly. 

“Take your time,” he coaxes me. “But I do wish you would hurry on making these wishes.”

I grimace up at him. “Really?” I slip from his grasp. “Do you know how long that could take? A million is so much! Even if I could think of things to wish for in a day, I’d have to make well over a hundred wishes an hour to make a year!”

“I don’t expect you to go through them so quickly, just fast enough. I have been trapped for centuries.  I am restless.” He slips away from me and moves around my kitchen. “I want to get back to the way I was.”

“What if I just wished you home?” I ask him. “You know, like in Aladdin, he wishes the genie to be set free.”

Horirem arches a brow at me. “It won’t work like that. It is a curse, after all. Curses have rules.” He takes a box of cereal from the counter and tips it over, whole wheat circle dumps out over his face and gets caught in his lustrous mane. 

“You’re making a mess,” I stand up and reach for the broom and start sweeping up the floor. “So what on earth were you cursed for?” I look up at him as he picks the cereal from his mane and eats it. “No one just gets cursed. It’s like a crime of passion.”

Horirem looks at me and a dour look crosses his eyes. “I was married to a very ambitious woman,” he says between bites. He smooths his hand down his chest to his belly. “I was very much infatuated with her. Many men were. Yet she chose me out of countless suitors.” He takes in a deep breath. “Well, she chose me, but not for the reasons I thought. She had other plans.”

I grimace a bit. “She had a lover, didn’t she?”

“Powerful sorcerer,” Horirem says with a nod. “She wanted to put our son on the throne, but he was just a little thing, he would be her puppet.” He looks away from me. “I don’t want to talk about this. Just go ahead and wish for something!” he roars at me.

“Oh, uhm-” I look around the room and catch a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the window. “I wish the gray was gone from my hair?”

I then feel a tingle on my scalp and when I look back at my reflection, my hair looks just like it did when I was younger. It’s full, bouncy, and the color is so rich and deep again. 

“Oh, shit,” I gasp.

“Do you want me to take it back?” Horirem grumbles.

“No, no!” I quickly jump to assure him. I then chuckle and grin at him. I run my fingers through my hair. “This is great for now, really. Thanks.”

Horirem tilts his head to the side. “Thanks?”

“Yeah, this is nice. I know it’s silly to be worried about a few grays, but I-”

“You don’t need to thank me. This is what I am supposed to do. Grant wishes, be your slave.” Horirem snarls at me. “I’m cursed to serve.”

I frown a bit. “I don’t want a slave. And sure, you’re cursed to grant wishes, but you don’t have to serve me. You can do as you see fit.”

“So I can bed you?” He tosses it at me.

My cheeks grow red hot and I scowl. “No!” I scoff. “You can’t just-” I sigh when I see a grin appear on his face. “Good god, I haven’t even...I mean it’s been years, but-” I roll my eyes. “You don’t have to act like some sort of servant here. As long as you’re with me and are bound to me, you still have your freedom. You don’t have to obey my every command like I’m some king. If there’s something you want, just ask me.”

Horirem sighs. “Ah, to be the king again.” He looks at me. “You keep talking about this Aladdin, I want to know what that is.”

“It’s a fairy tale,” I reply, a bit shocked. “It’s been made into a movie a couple of times uh-” I stop myself. “Ok, I can do this, I’ve taught before just never modern history.” I glance at Horirem. “Another wish, simply because I hate cooking, but I wish for a royal french breakfast.” I jump when I look at the kitchen table and see it overflowing with fine food and drink. 

“Thank you,” I smile at Horirem. “Now help me eat all this and I’ll teach you about Aladdin.”

Horirem takes a seat at the table and we eat together. It’s been a while since I had breakfast with anyone where it wasn’t a cafe or greasy spoon, so it is nice to have the company. Horirem is a big presence but after living alone for almost a decade, I appreciate his company. Using the stockpile of wishes, I repair things around the house I’ve been neglecting. The bad piping, the leaky faucet in the backroom, the one grumbling piece of foundation in the back. It all seems silly to use these wishes on such small mundane things, but I have a hard time thinking of anything really grand to wish for outside of food. 

Over the next few days Horirem has taken to the television. When I work, he’s glued to it and has a real fondness for cartoons. I fear he might become a couch potato, but he is a lion so I guess that’s just his nature. One afternoon, as I’ve finished researching for a paper, I see Horirem has found an old photo album and is pouring over it.

“That’s personal,” I grumble as I try to take it from him. 

Horirem fights at first, but then lets go and I close the album. To my horror, it is my old wedding album. I keep meaning to throw it away or burn it in the yard, but I always hold back on destroying it. After all, I did look good in my wedding dress.

“What is that?” Horirem asks. 

“My wedding.” I tuck the album away back on the shelf.

Horirem furrows his brow. “You’re married?”

“Was,” I say with a shrug. “First three years were fine, last three years were hell.” I take in a deep breath and shake my head. “But like you, I thought he chose me for the same reasons I chose him.” I frown and bite down on my cheek. “Turns out he had chosen a lot of other people.”

Horirem is silent and his expression is sympathetic.

“I got out, I was lucky.” I scoff and take the album back out. “I just wish he wasn’t in any of these photos.”

Horirem smooths his palm over the cover.  When I open it back up, the pictures have all changed. My ex is completely gone and what is left are photos of me.

“You look beautiful there,” Horirem murmurs. “Then again, it’s hard to make a beautiful woman look like anything else.” He slips his fingers through my hair and tucks it behind my ear. 

I peer up at him, my heart racing and going mad. “Thanks.” I close the album. “I know it’s silly, just like my hair.” I roll my eyes. “As much as I love history, I sometimes can’t stand my own.”

“I understand,” he murmurs. “I wish I knew mine.” Horirem steps aside from me and takes out one of the old books from the shelf. “I see these images, of things that are familiar to me. But they look so old and forgotten.” He grimaces and clutches the book to his chest. “I miss my son so much.”

I put my hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”

“He was my world,” Horirem whimpers. “He was so smart and so innocent.” He then sighs heavily. “I sheltered him too much. I just wish I knew if he grew up and was happy and not just used as a puppet by his mother all his life. It’s been on my mind so heavily these days.”

“He was your child,” I murmur. “I understand.” I smile shyly up at him. “I never had kids and I’m grateful for that.” I shake my head slowly. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

Horirem takes hold of my hand and kisses my palm. “You’re a student of history,” he then says. “Is there anyway you could find him? Any trace of him at all.”

“I don’t know,” I murmur. “I could try though.” I then think for a long moment. “Is there a way I could use the wishes to do that?”

Horirem frowns. “The wishes?” he grumbles. “I’m not sure. You would have to try.”

“I wish for-” I stop and look down at the book Horirem is holding. I take it and hold it to him. “I wish this book could show us the past.”

Horirem’s eyes light up for a flash and he shakes his head. “That hurt!” He snarls.

I open the book and see the index inside is shifting and ever changing. “What was your son’s name?” I ask Horirem. 

“Nafi,” Horirem grumbles, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

The index shifts and spins and the pages flutter. I run my finger down the now still words and find Nafi’s name. I move to the table, setting the book down as I shuffle through the pages. I then find Nafi’s page and the text comes into focus on the page.

“Nafi was seven when he took the throne after his father was found dead in his sleep.” I glance up at Horirem and turn back to the page. “He ruled until his twenty-fifth year when-” I hesitate and stop myself.

“What?” Horirem urges. “Tell me, Hazel!”

“When he vanished on a hunting trip,” I mutter. “His younger sister, Iseret, took his place. She was only six.” I look back up at Horirem and place my hand over his. 

“Vanished,” he whispered. “And his sister. What about her?”

I turn back to the index to find Iseret and find her page. “Daughter of the former queen and her second husband. Ruled until she was fifty,” I gasp in awe. “Imprisoned her own mother and father for treason. Married a servant in her castle and produced her heir, Horirem the second.” I smile at him and squeeze his hand. “She knew you from Nafi,” I tell him.

“I still can’t-” Horirem closes the book and quickly leaves the room.

I chase after him as he falls to his knees in the living room. I kneel beside him, putting my arms around him as he cries. 

“This is worse!” He sobs. “How am I supposed to go on like this without knowing?” He turns to me with tears running down his face. “Nafi was my sun and stars! To know he may have died in the middle of nowhere, alone and cold-” He wraps his arms around me. “I’m so afraid.”

I hold him tight and rub my hands up and down his back. I kiss his cheek and he turns, meeting my lips and kissing me. I moan softly and lean in closer to him. We seperate quickly and stare at one another for a long moment.

“I’m sorry,” Horirem gasps. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, no, it’s ok.” I touch my lips. “It was nice but-” I clear my throat. I look at him as he wipes the tears from his eyes. “Maybe there’s another way we could find out about Nafi.” 

“How?” Horirem sniffles. “The only way we could find out is if we were there.” He then stills and his eyes narrow on me. 

“Can you do that?” I ask. “I mean, is such a thing possible?”

“It hurt when I made the book,” Horirem whispers. “I don’t know.” He takes hold of my hand. “You just have to wish for it for us to find out.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” I shake my head. 

“Try,” he urges.

I take a deep breath and hold both of his hands. “I wish we were amongst Nafi’s hunting party.”

Everything goes cold for a moment. The red, moving light that signaled Horirem’s freedom swallowed us whole. There is a sharp wind and I am jostled hard and fall backwards to the ground. I then hear yelling around us and as I look up, I see a camel staring at me.

“Did it work?” I whisper. I look down and see Horirem has turned into a yellow tabby in my arms. “Horirem!” I snap at him, shaking him. 

“Ma’am, are you ok?” Someone touches my shoulder and when I look up, I see a young man who looks like Horirem did. I stand up from the ground, holding the sleeping Horirem cat in my arms. 

“I uhm-” I stumble for a moment and the young man catches me. “Sorry I was just...lost.”

He smiles at me. “I can see that.” He chuckles. “My name is Nafi. If I can help you, I would be honored.”

“Nafi,” I gasp. “Oh, wow,” I shake my head. “I mean, you look just like your father.”

Nafi’s eyes go wide and he looks sad. “Do I?” He touches his face. “How did you know my dad?”

The Horirem cat in my arms wakes up and he screams and falls from my clutches. I quickly pick him back up. “It’s uhm...a long story.”