Free Three Wishes by Jenny Schwartz

inside.”
    “Do angels trump djinn?” he asked the space where she’d been.
    For a fraction of an instant he thought he felt a hand clasp his shoulder. He thought he heard a man say, “Love terrifies some people.”
    But he wasn’t crazy enough to believe that voice. It wasn’t as if he was running scared from Miri. No, he was scared for her.
    His life was too dangerous for a woman to share it.
     
    The security experts were from the United States, Israel and Egypt. It wasn’t the first time David had hosted an oddly assorted group. Visit any weapons fair and you soon noticed the never-mentioned truth: enemy soldiers had more in common with one another than with civilians. Violence, and the containment of it, crossed boundaries.
    Miriam disapproved. She’d seen the price lists.
    “Do you know what that sort of money would buy? Prosthetics, vaccinations, clean water, sanitation, hope.”
    “I deal in death, Miri.”
    She glared at him and stormed away.
    So at least one thing was going right . His guests were also enjoying themselves.
    He’d taken Cali at her word and opened the castle. If she didn’t endanger innocents, then the only traps for the unwary that the restoration of the ruin would hold would be keyed to him. He stayed outside and let his guests and the avid locals explore.
    “It’ll make a great hotel” was the American security expert’s assessment. He cocked an eyebrow. “Bit of a change of pace for you?”
    David just smiled. The grapevine that covered the pergola where they sat was only partly in leaf. The new growth unfolded slowly after winter. The dappled shade hid the nuances of expression, but he knew the American watched him carefully. Predators kept an eye on one another, and security was big business and ruthlessly competitive.
    “Coffee, Gary?” David filled the other man’s cup and refilled his own. Miriam’s stood half-full and abandoned on a corner of the table. He ought to be pleased that she’d stalked off. Next time she might leave completely.
    “The British have a saying, ‘every man’s home is his castle.’” Gary found the jug of milk and poured generously.
    David looked away. Milk in coffee turned his stomach. The flavor ought to be respected, not masked.
    Three teaspoons of sugar followed the milk and a spoon stirred vigorously.
    “First time I’ve met a man who actually owned a castle.”
    “Stone endures,” David said. “Buy land in a country as long inhabited as Syria and you’re bound to find traces of earlier habitation.”
    “Yeah. Still.”
    Suspicion. David understood it. Caution and understanding other men kept you alive. He shrugged. “Restoring the castle was a whim.” No way would he tell the hardheaded American that a djinni had done the work.
    “I thought it might be a gift for your partner? Miriam?”
    The coffee tasted bitter in David’s mouth. So that was what the man had been leading up to—Miriam’s presence. He’d forgotten that the others would be alert to changes in his behavior, and no woman had ever before been resident in his home.
    “I wouldn’t accuse Miriam of being my partner. She is an old friend of the family and disapproves of me.”
    “Ah.”
    Which proved Gary had seen Miriam stalk off. Never mind. She’d be gone soon.
    “The show begins at eleven,” David said smoothly. “We’ll be viewing from the living room.”
    “Bombproof glass?” Gary was amused.
    “Yes.” That punctured the man’s superiority.
    For all its views and exposed position, David had built his home to withstand attack.
    “Well, then, I’d best prepare myself.” The American drained his milky coffee and straightened to his full height. “I appreciate the chance to see the Sting in action. I thought this meeting would be a talkfest.” He ambled into the house without waiting for an answer.
    David signaled to Eli, who stepped out of the shadows. “Call in Joshua and Hassan and anyone else roaming the castle. Are the grounds