Chapter 17

Anissa settled into the leather seat of David's boxy automobile.

"Here's a question for you. How come a Djinni, which is a Middle Eastern mythos, has a British accent? Or speaks English in the first place, for that matter?" Her new master, it seemed, was absolutely full of questions. How was it he noticed holes in her story that no other master ever had? The man was far too clever, probably too much so for his own good.

"My first master - the sorcerer--was English. He'd traveled with King Richard's Crusaders. He took me back with him to Britain, where I spent most of the last eight centuries. While comprehending languages and speaking in the same is part of the Djinni's magic, I suppose I may have picked up some traces of local dialect."

"Murdoch again. Is he Djinn?"

"No. He is, or was, human."

"Was?" He kept his eyes focused on the road in front of them, navigating the icy road with what seemed to her like remarkable skill. Ice-covered trees zipped by and soon they came to a town. There were other cars alongside them, of all different shapes and colors.

"After eight centuries, can you still call him human?" She did not want to talk about Murdoch. She wanted to learn more about this fascinating place and time she found herself in.

"I guess not." He turned the Jeep into a parking area. "Welcome to the town of Kilkenny, Michigan. It's not much but some of us call it home." The store in front of them claimed to be a shoe outlet. He stopped the car but left the engine running. "You wait here. I'll be right back."

Carrying the metal measuring device, he dashed into the shop.

Anissa played with the music buttons on the panel in front of her while he was gone. In addition to the raucous noise he had called punk rock music, she found several other kinds, including a very little that she recognized. Finally she found music that was both familiar and pleasant. A previous master had played the piano and had been very fond of the works of Beethoven. She left the device on that setting, enjoying the soft orchestral strains. The piece had not even finished when the professor returned carrying a bright yellow sack.

"Here. These will keep your feet warm until we can find you something better." He climbed into the driver's seat and handed her the sack. "Put them on so you can go into the next store."

She pulled a pair of boots from the bag. They were pink and quilted, with pink fur on the inside and no fasteners. She pulled one on over the heavy stockings and found it a snug fit but well cushioned by the fluffy artificial fur.

"Your feet are so small I found those in the little kids section."

"Thank you. They should be very warm." They were hideous but perhaps that was the style these days and he was being so kind, she would not belittle his choice.

"Now for clothes. You'll need a couple of days' worth at least and something fancier for tonight."

"As you wish."

She tried not to wonder what he would demand in return. What she secretly hoped he would demand in return.

The store he pulled into next was much larger than the first. There must have been fifty vehicles on the large concrete pad and they parked some distance away from the shop entrance, making her grateful for the warm fluffy boots. She saw other women and girls in similar footwear, so perhaps he had not chosen so badly after all.

One step inside had Anissa's mouth hanging open. She had never in her life seen so many things under one roof at the same time. The shop appeared to house everything from cosmetics to furniture. Where was a person even supposed to begin?

Apparently David had an idea. He grabbed a red plastic bin on wheels and pushed it ahead of them as he tugged her over to an area that contained racks upon racks of women's clothing. Then he looked around, with a helpless sort of grimace. "Let me know if you see anything you like."

"Most of the people on the television wore those heavy blue trousers." She had seen them on men, women and children, to the point where it was nearly a uniform. She was unfamiliar with the notion of women in trousers but they looked very comfortable. And it seemed the television had been correct. Here in the store, the blue leggings were also the standard.

"Jeans." He nodded agreement. "Good idea. They're pretty much a staple. Add some shirts, some sweaters and you're all set."

David was glad she'd watched enough TV to have a basic understanding of modern styles, since that was far from his forte. Jeans were easy to find. He grabbed three different sizes off the rack of denims and handed them to her. "Go in there and try them on." He pointed to the dressing room.

And then a few minutes later, he watched her sashay out and his tongue damn near hit the floor. She'd been gorgeous in a pair of his old cut-off sweats. In painted-on blue jeans, she was a fucking goddess.

"Are these acceptable?" She turned, making sure he had a good view of her mouth-watering ass.

"Uh - fine." Really, really fine. Moving kept him from tackling her then and there, so he collected two more pair while she changed back into the sweats. Then he figured what the hell and threw in a khaki pair and one in black, just in case she got tired of blue. She continued to torture him as she selected t-shirts, sweatshirts, blouses and sweaters, arguing with each addition that he was buying too much.

Watching Anissa try on clothes made Dave glad his own pants were baggy cargo-style khakis, or they'd have kicked him out of the store for being a pervert. Just to be on the safe side, he carried his coat in front of his body to hide the erection he got just from watching her.

She held up a black velvet skirt. At least he thought it was supposed to be a skirt. It could have been a really wide belt. "Will this do for the party you mentioned?"

"Umm - I guess." That was him, Mr. Eloquent. "Might get a little chilly." Might make me try to bend you over and have you before we even get out my front door.

She made a face. "You made me choose a long coat. It will be fine."

Yeah, fine was a damn good word for her. "What about on top?"

"This, I thought." She pointed at a sparkly purple top. Damned if the thing wasn't almost exactly the same color as her eyes.

It was hard to speak, since his mouth had gone completely dry and all the blood in his body was presently headed south. He just nodded toward the dressing room and she gave him a happy grin as she headed in.

Screw it, if it made her smile like that, he'd buy her a hell of a lot more than a bunch of clothes.