Lust is a sin.

'Isn't everything?'

Your duty isn't. A sardonic tone.

'This is my duty.' Spoken through gritted teeth.

So you think. Everyone has a path to follow.

'Some just can't read the map, right?'

A gentle chuckle echoed in reply.

It was the silence that finally woke her, creeping into her consciousness as she slept. Eutopia's place was never silent, what with the constant throb of drum'n'bass that vibrated through the walls day and night from the pot-head that lived next door… and the lack of noise was disturbingly unfamiliar, though admittedly a welcome relief for the pounding in her skull. Her whole mouth ached with a pain that spread with reaching fingers along the right side of her face. She probed her flesh, hesitant and gentle as she explored the damage. Her closed eyes squinted with pain and she soon stopped poking. She wasn't sure, but nothing in her face seemed to be broken. At least she still had all her teeth, though she ran her tongue over them slowly, more than once, just to make sure.

Struggling through the layers of sleep that still surrounded her Eutopia opened her eyes a crack, letting a dozy golden light stream into her vision. Oh, God. She knew instantly that this wasn't her tiny, comfortingly messy bedroom. Eutopia raised a hand to her head, pressing fingers hard against the undamaged side of her face as though willing some kind of memory to return from the night before. Cold blue eyes, sharp and as icy as a scuba dive in the North Pole, her own eyes snapped open. Flickers, images, fluttered through her fuzzy brain. A car. Mr Muscle... pain. She winced.

God. Oh, God.

Eutopia swung her legs down from the brown leather couch she found herself lying on and instantly wished she hadn't bothered. A wave of nausea, fast and thick, crashed up to meet her and set her head swirling and thumping all at the same time. Wild tangles of her almost black hair, wavy from the rain and tousled from sleep tumbled around her in a dark cloud settling halfway down her back. She pressed the heels of both palms to her eyes and hoped the pressure might ease the ache and the sickness she felt in the pit of her stomach. A few moments of deep breathing and very little motion left her free to lift her head from her hands and peer cautiously about. She could tell from the rich quality of the light peeping from between the closed slats of a sleek venetian blind that it was way into the afternoon. But where the hell was she?

With effort she eased herself up from the couch, her bare feet silent on the polished, warm oak floorboards that wouldn't have been out of place in a stately country home though the room she found herself in was by no means grand in size. As she stood a quilted silk throw that had been draped over her pooled into a vanilla-cream puddle, slipping off her damp jeans to lie discarded on the floor. Eutopia took a step forward and her shins bumped against a long, low coffee table made from a rich coloured wood and the jolt made her glance down. Her breasts were almost bare. The scooped neck of her blood-spattered t-shirt had been ripped jaggedly; the fabric across her chest dangled uselessly at either side and exposed the shredded lace of her black bra. Eutopia pulled the tattered edges together and tugged at the stretchy material modestly, one hand resting on her breasts to hold the gathered fabric and prevent it from slipping down again. She whirled at a noise behind her and noticed for the first time the doorway set a few feet back from the sofa.

A large figure stood there, almost silhouetted and lounging against the doorjamb with huge arms folded across a barrel of a chest. The man's strong features were cast into shadow because of the light streaming in behind him but what she could see caused the girl's heart to skip a beat and pound suddenly again in her throat. His black hair fell messily about his ears, brushing his temples and cheekbones to frame a face that even an Angel couldn't have carved better. A slow blush crept into her cheeks as she thought of the cliché, though it couldn't have been truer. His feline like eyes, dark and hard met her gawking gaze with a cold and level stare. The iciness of his demeanour caused her to draw her ragged clothes tighter around herself.

He pointedly lowered his eyes and she followed his gaze back to the low table where a man's cotton shirt, soft, feathery white against the glossy wood, lay neatly folded. Eutopia picked it up and shook it out before slipping it on and fastened the buttons with fumbling fingers after folding the cuffs back twice to free her hands. It fell loosely over her small frame, swamping her to hang part-way down her thighs. The man watched silently. He said nothing as she gathered her wild hair in her fist and twirled it deftly into a knot at the base of her neck, twisting the ends back on themselves to secure it for lack of a bobby-pin. Her eyes never left his the whole time and he barely blinked as he held her trembling, unsure gaze. Finally, he pushed himself away from the door frame with one booted foot and turned away from her, heading back into the room he had appeared from and breaking the eerie spell of silence.

'Hey,' she called softly after him, annoyed that he would just leave her stood there feeling like a lost child in a supermarket that no one wants to approach for fear of being accused of attempted kidnap. Kidnap, now there was a thought. The image of an idling car flickered across her mind, causing her to shudder. The man didn't reappear.

She followed him through into the other room and found herself in what was clearly a kitchen. Sunlight streamed soft and warm through the window above the sink, gleaming off the brushed steel and clean white lines of the room. There wasn't a thing out of place; everything seemed utilitarian, functional and modern. But mostly just expensive, from the small coffee machine tucked into one corner to the chrome kettle sitting in another. Confusion swirled in her head which only seemed to make the ache in her brain that much more nauseating.

He was seated on a tall bistro stool with one arm leaning against the shiny granite of the breakfast bar that neatly divided the room in two, long elegant fingers wrapped around a small espresso cup as nonchalant as though finding half naked girls on his sofa every morning was commonplace. With a face like that, Eutopia thought, it probably is. On the furthest side of the room a little glass-topped table sat with just two chairs tucked neatly beneath and a single Calla lily embraced by a slim granite vase in the middle. Eutopia wondered at the slight feminine touch. Where was his girlfriend, or did he live alone? She stood hesitant and awkward in the doorway, disturbed by the thought that her first concern was the whereabouts of the girlfriend she was sure he should have, rather than how or why she ended up in his living room as her hand lifted to let fingers drift lightly over the crusted blood at the corner of her mouth.

'I don't have any money. Well, not much,' Eutopia blurted. She plucked at the buttons on the shirt she now wore, wondering how she should feel about this strangely beautiful man. Each pulsation of her achy head was screaming at her to get out, to run. But the nervous skipping beat of her heart was telling her that this man was different, somehow unconnected to the indistinct events of the night before. Besides, Eutopia felt a peculiar sense of déjà vu as she looked at him. Had they met before? Surely she would remember such a breath-taking man, even if she had only passed him in the street… In the brighter sunlight of the kitchen she could now see that the shadows had not been casting illusions. He truly was striking. There was a delicate and fragile grace in the strength of his features that Eutopia had never seen outside of airbrushed underwear campaigns. The sudden thought of him in his underwear caused her to blush brightly again.

'I know,' the man replied with cool eyes that seemed almost to glow a deep indigo colour. Even his voice was captivating. Deep and resonating.

'Oh,' said Eutopia, wondering how he knew and then lowering her eyes self-consciously at the thought that perhaps he had been the one to cover her sleeping form with the throw on the couch, having no doubt rifled her pockets in the process. 'Well, I don't have any family who could give you any either.'

'Oh?'

'Yes. My mother died years ago and I never knew my father.' She rambled on feeling flustered, trying to explain herself. 'What I mean is, I guess, if you're planning to like, hold me to ransom or something it won't work, so you may as well just let me go now.' She folded her arms across her chest, her chin jutting out in what she hoped was a firm and authoritative gesture but in actual fact just made her appear even more childlike in his oversized shirt.

'Ah,' the man said, trying to keep the smile from his face as he stood. 'You think I've kidnapped you?'

'You haven't?' Eutopia flinched in embarrassment at the obvious disappointment she could hear in her own voice, feeling extremely stupid. He sighed though his hard expression never changed as he stood with a fluid elegance that a heavily muscled man like him had no right to possess, crossing the room in a few languid strides. As he reached up to lift a little packet down from a cupboard Eutopia noted his almost inhuman height. She nibbled her split lower lip gingerly; a nervous habit since childhood that she had never managed to lose, as her eyes darted over his huge form that seemed to fill the small room. She tracked a path back through the doorway as though she was judging the likelihood of making it there before he could stop her.

'You're free to leave,' he said, closing the gap between them without much effort as he held out a glass of water to Eutopia. He lifted the packet so that she could see the label on the painkillers and she held out her hand to let him pop two sugar-coated pills into her outstretched palm as she recognised the shiny silver box. Eutopia swallowed them without the need of the water. She took a sip anyway, eyeing him from over the rim of the glass, before moving further into the room and placing it gently on the glass table, noting the change of warm wood to cool stone beneath her bare feet. She wondered silently where her shoes were. The man turned to watch her, giving her the sense of a statute-still predator following its prey effortlessly.

'What's your name?' she asked, turning to face him as he lounged against the breakfast bar again.

'Jinn.'

'Like the drink?'

'No.'

'Like the genie?' she smiled slightly, despite his emotionless expression.

'Sort of.'

'So you'll grant me three wishes?' Eutopia asked hopefully, amazed at how his handsomeness soothed her uneasiness at the whole situation for the moment and desperate to pierce the tension she felt crackling around them. Judging a book by its cover, so to speak, was dangerous. Good looks didn't always equate a good personality. Experience had certainly taught her that so far. A wry smile touched Jinn's lips.

'One. I'll give you one wish.'

Eutopia gave a little shake of her head, cascading loose tendrils of her dark hair around her.

'I doubt you could make my wish come true...I'm Eutopia.'

Jinn nodded once and straightened up, leaving the room. Eutopia gave a tut and followed him once more, wondering if he'd ever been taught the rules of polite conversation.

Standing in the doorway for a moment she could appraise the lounge. Jinn had tilted the slats on the blinds now that hung at two sash windows that stretched from the ceiling to the floor on the right hand wall, letting the afternoon sun spill more freely into the room. A thick cream coloured rug, too big to be sheepskin but just as soft and shaggy looking, lay in the centre with the low table set on top. A fairly simple fireplace was on the far wall, directly opposite the kitchen where Eutopia still stood. The mantle was carved from a dark cherry-coloured wood and had the same opulent gloss of the floorboards. A thin inlay of dark green marble, shot through with streaks of gold, lined the inside of the fireplace which was filled by a sleek black screen that Eutopia believed would flicker like a real fire once it was turned on. A long silver sword, luminous against the pale cream of the wall behind, rested on a silver stand displayed proudly on top of the mantle. Two large leather brown sofas were arranged in an L-shape in the centre of the room but there was still enough room for at least three people to walk side by side around them. Jinn was sat on the end of the sofa facing the fireplace, staring at the big plasma television that was mounted in the top right hand corner of the lounge. A broad bookcase with each shelf, neat and ordered, crammed with various titles, none of which Eutopia could read, occupied most of the back wall by the kitchen door.

She came to stand beside Jinn and retrieved the silk throw from the floor, discovering her trainers beneath it with the socks tucked neatly inside each shoe. She carefully folded the quilt and placed it on the seat next to Jinn. He didn't even look up from the news report he was watching, the volume low, which involved the current situation of the country's deficit as it almost always did lately, not that she understood any of it.

'Your bag is by the front door,' he said, motioning with a hand to the left of the fireplace.

'Oh.' Eutopia picked up her slightly damp socks and slipped them on, using the back of the sofa for support as she balanced first on one leg and then the other. Jinn glanced over his shoulder at her, hearing the muffled shuffle of her foot on the slippery floor as she fought to ram her foot into the soggy material.

'There's plenty of hot water if you want a shower. Food in the fridge if you're hungry. I need to go out.' Jinn stood, unfurling his large frame from the deep cushions of the sofa. 'Feel free to leave whenever, just pull the door closed behind you. And please,' he fixed her wide eyes with a glacial gaze, 'don't touch anything.'

'As if I would,' she retorted, offended by the fact Jinn thought she was the type of girl who would root through his stuff. There wasn't much to look through anyway. The two rooms Eutopia had seen so far were empty of anything of interest to her. The walls, ivory in colour, were devoid of any photographs or pictures that might allude to his personal life or experiences. Obviously he was unafraid of her running off with any items of his furniture, as luxurious and expensive everything seemed to be, it was all far too bulky for her to try and move. Though the small coffee machine, which looked like it wouldn't be able to make anything larger than a single espresso, might have fit in her backpack if she shoved it hard enough.

'You never can tell with some people,' Jinn said, unabashed by her insulted tone. He stretched a little, the black long sleeved t-shirt he wore stretched tight for a moment across his wide chest to define every muscle. Jinn checked the pocket of his jeans for his key as he walked to the door.

'Hey... Jinn?' Eutopia called with hesitation, just as his bulky silhouette was disappearing. The man turned back, one eye brow raised in a silent question. 'Thanks,' she said. Jinn gave a slight nod of his head and ducked out of the door, pulling it closed behind him with a soft click. Clearly, he was the strong, silent type.

It didn't take Eutopia long to locate the shower. Jinn's flat, obviously at the top of some building Eutopia gathered from the view point she had of the street below out of the lounge window, only had three rooms. There was the kitchen, the lounge and his bedroom which contained an en-suite shower and toilet. Jinn's bedroom was as simple and as sumptuous as the rest of the little flat. It was roughly about the same size as the lounge with most of the space taken up by an ornate four poster bed, the pile of bedding, stretched out as smooth as though it had never been slept in, gleamed with copper and bronze tones. A wide chest of draws, free of clutter and a tall wardrobe were the only other items furnishing the room, yet it had a warmth to it that made her linger as she made her way to the equally bare bathroom. Again Eutopia failed to see anything to give her a clue about this guy, his toiletries and essentials no doubt tucked away behind the mirrored glass of the cabinet hanging on the wall above the wash basin.

Eutopia had dug out her own shampoo and other luxuries and had spent a good long while in the shower, letting the hot, hard spray pound the aching from her head and her weary muscles as the painkillers began to kick in. Her life hadn't been this confusing or complicated for a long time and she didn't relish the idea of it becoming so now, not when she was so close to getting what she had been searching for. She appraised herself in the steamy mirror afterwards, convincing herself that the livid bruise on her cheek actually wasn't that awful. Her lower lip didn't look as swollen as it felt and the split wasn't as bad as she first thought when it had been covered in her dried blood. She had towel dried her hair and dressed in a clean pair of jeans and a dark blue t-shirt from her bag that fitted her better than his shirt which she folded and lay on his bed. Having checked the contents of Jinn's fridge she decided that nothing really appealed to her, almost all of the food was still sealed in its packaging as though Jinn had only just been shopping. She decided she felt too guilty about opening anything and so settled herself back on the sofa, legs curled beneath her and her old and battered Nokia glued to her ear.

'What do you mean you were 'unable to hold my booking'?' she demanded in disbelief, 'I paid in full for that room last Friday by credit card.'

'I appreciate that, Miss Midnite and I cannot apologise enough for the situation,' said the receptionist, who's tone actually suggested she couldn't care less, 'But you didn't book in by the appointed check in time and as company policy dictates, which you can check in your terms and conditions on the booking form, that leaves us eligible to re-sell the room and charge you a cancellation fee of 10%.'

'Well, do you have any other rooms available for today?' Eutopia asked desperately, tugging her fingers through her slowly drying hair, wincing as she snagged a knot and silently cursing the whereabouts of her hairbrush.

'Uh...' there was a harsh clacking of keys as the receptionist checked the computer system. 'I'm afraid not, Madam. We don't have anything free until after the 15th.'

'But that's days away, I need somewhere to stay now!'

'I am sorry, but there really is nothing else I can do for you. Would you like the number of our sister hotel Madam? It's on the other side of London, but they may have a room free. ...Madam?'

Eutopia didn't hear. She was staring intently at the TV that she had left on the 24 hour news channel Jinn had been watching, since she couldn't find the remote and she wasn't tall enough to turn it over manually.

'... bodies of two young men have been found in an alleyway this morning,' the heavily made-up brunette news-reader was announcing in a sultry voice, her right eyebrow hitched up into her thick fringe as she eyed the camera in a suggestive manner that didn't sit well with the nature of the piece she was reporting on. The image faded to the scene of a narrow alleyway Eutopia all but remembered, grey and dingy despite the warm sunshine that had chased away the rain of the night before. Crime scene investigators were busily moving about a small white tent that had been erected between the two buildings forming the cut through and blue and white police tape crisscrossed the area. A few uniformed police officers stood gravely, their presence keeping back the few gory onlookers who were hoping to catch a glimpse of someone else's misfortune.

'...Are you still there? Madam?'

'The bodies were discovered by pub-goers in the early hours of today in Short Street, just feet away from the Three Feathers Inn near Covent Garden.' Eutopia leant forward, feet slipping to the floor as her dark eyes widened in horror. The picture had changed to two photographs, side by side, of the unfortunate victims before whatever sticky end it was they had met. The phone slipped from Eutopia's suddenly sweaty palm, which didn't matter much since the receptionist had already hung up. The news-reader continued, 'Police have confirmed that the bodies are those of twenty four year old Ashley Jones and twenty nine year old David 'Davey' Roberts, both from East London. Though a police spokesman failed to comment on the nature of these deaths, he was able to confirm that the police are treating the circumstances as 'suspicious' and a murder investigation has been launched. Police are also appealing for a young woman, whom they have reason to believe may be a witness to the incident, to come forward for questioning.'

Eutopia's heart missed several beats and her breath caught in her throat as another image appeared on the screen. This time it was her own face. The subtle features were distorted by sketchy lines but there was no mistaking the wide dark eyes; though they were spaced a little too far out to be a perfect match to hers. The gentle slope of her nose was a little too long and the bow of her pretty lips had been distorted to a plumpness that was almost obscene. The e-fit artist had sketched her dark hair pulled right the way back from her face, giving her a high forehead that all in all offered a cruel and haughty hardness of expression. Eutopia stood as the woman spoke over the sketched image of her face, 'The young woman is thought to be of white-Caucasian appearance, between nineteen and twenty-two years of age with dark brown to black hair, of slim build and between five foot two , to five foot four inches in height. If anyone has any information with regards to this case, please call Crimestoppers on the number below.' She paused for a moment, letting the bright studio lights sparkle in her blue eyes as her glossy red lips turned up lightly at the corners. 'Now, in other news...'

Eutopia never heard what the other news was; the sharp ringing was too loud in her ears. Her breath came harsh, rasping in and out of her lungs. Ash, Davey. Their faces, one pale and blonde, plump and pierced with dimples, the other more swarthy and dark burned brightly in her memory now as more and more details from last night trickled into her fuzzy mind. She saw each blow of Ash's hand, felt the sting of it falling against her skin. Her lip throbbed and a strangled cry escaped her. Her face on the news... The alleyway, the car, Ash's sour breath on her bare skin, his hands groping at her soft, vulnerable flesh. The memories came swift and fast, flooding the dam her terror and disgust had built. But how had it ended? Had she killed the two men? If so, how and why had she ended up here? Was Jinn involved too, is that why she felt such a strange pull to this man she was sure she had never met before? Too many questions and nowhere near enough answers. Running both hands through her hair she growled in frustration as she tried to think, replaying what she could remember in snippets in her head. Eutopia began to pace the room and came to a stop in front of the hearth. The perfectly polished silver of the sword reflected her frightened face, the width of the blade capturing her bewildered eyes. Eutopia stretched a finger out to absently trace the mirror image as she struggled to collect her thoughts.

A gentle hum suddenly filled the room, the hovering note growing insistent. Eutopia glanced up at the television for a moment, expecting it to be coming from there but a gentle blue glow began to pulsate in her peripheral vision and caused her to look back at the sword. Without realising it, her hand had moved along the blade to curl at the twisted metal of the hilt. She cried out in surprise and fear as her fingers gripped it tight and refused to let go, despite her best efforts to relax them. The humming echoed around the room, louder and louder with each pulse of brighter, icy colour that now swirled around her like a blue fog. The metal of the sword began to burn with heat in her palm as the prickling of electrical energy sparked across her skin, dancing from her curled fingertips and along every inch of her tremulous frame. Eutopia's eyes glazed, unseeing, as ghostly voices whispered softly to her. For the second time in the space of two days she felt herself losing consciousness and the utter lack of control she felt at being pulled away from the waking world left her terrified as she crumpled to the ground, pulling the heavy sword from the mantel as she went.