Sweat & Seduction

The Council of Djinn had questioned him for hours. The inquest had not gone in his favor, but of course, he had known this would be the case long before he presented himself to be scrutinized and for deliberations.

“Though we have already refused your request, we are curious…what is the device you wish to inhabit in which to woo your breathmate, since you long ago lost your arm band?” Long gone are the days when brass lanterns containing Djinn were strewn about the mortal world to be found by beggars who would become kings. “You’re not considering inhabiting one of those MP3 players, are you?”

Adanto replied clearly. “A treadmill.”

“A what?” The High Ghul’s voice was filled with confusion.

“A mechanical device, often electrified, used by humans as a means of walking great distances for the benefit of their health without having to leave the comfort of a sheltered environment. A treadmill,” Adanto replied.

“Djinn do not inhabit treadmills.” The High Ghul sounded certain regardless of the fact Adanto was sure the leader had never even seen a treadmill.

But, there was no arguing with the High Ghul. He was too old, too powerful and too naked to argue with. He wore only the traditional gold wrist and ankle bands, and his skin tone was so dark a blue as to be nearly black. He smelled like the ages and Adanto thought perhaps he was so old as to be losing his faculties since, in addition to the other idiosyncrasies of age and rank, the High Ghul sported a brass cock ring proudly. It was his inhabitable item and he had worn it for so long it had become a part of his flesh. His inky black, hairy, smelly flesh.

Adanto turned to the first councilman. “Have you never been in love?” He knew the councilman had loved and lost. It wasn’t kind to bring up the matter. He chose to ignore polite behavior in favor of desperation. “Turhan, I know you have loved as deeply as I and lost your breathmate to a terrible fate. I cannot accept the loss of my love when I am able to prevent it.”

Councilman Turhan scowled. “I have loved more deeply than you can imagine. He is lost to me due to the prejudice of humankind and…I am sorry, Adanto. Your case is wasted on me.”

“I am sorry for your loss, my friend. The witch trials of old Salem left their scar on many souls.” He took a deep breath, heart aching at the thought of losing his breathmate as the councilman had. “I have hope that your breathmate is but dormant, and will reborn soon.”

“I find your sentimentality cloying, Adanto. Since you lost your inhabitable object you have not been yourself. It is the fever of separation, perhaps. I suggest you re-double your efforts to find your torque, so you will feel less inclined to romance your human counterpart. Your request is denied. You may not withdraw from the Djinn realm to seek solace in a…treadmill.” The High Ghul almost seemed disgusted by the idea. “Replacing a Roman torque with a treadmill…angels have mercy on the Djinn race, never have I heard of such a thing.”

“As you wish.” I’m leaving anyway. Tonight. With or without the blessing of the council and support of the clans. She needs me. For the first time in centuries, my breathmate needs me.