by T. G. Ayer
“It’s not as if Omega doesn’t have the best resources for finding a missing person,” I said, still unsure how to make him feel better. “Maybe they’re just not looking in the right places. Or maybe whoever has her has outsmarted them so far.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” said Saleem. “And that was the reason I decided to come to you. The timing seemed to have been perfect. So when this job came up, I put my hand up for it.”
I frowned. “How did you know that I would be able to help you”?
He chuckled. “You have a certain reputation, Ms. Morgan. Most people at Omega know exactly who you are and what your success rate is for finding missing people.”
“Really?” I asked, slightly impressed that I seemed to have made a name for myself. There was no denying that I was proud of my track record. Could this have been the reason for Omega’s investigations into missing persons? Were they investigating me?
“Yeah, and you’re not only known for your track record. Everybody knows that nobody messes with Tracker Morgan.”
I was even more impressed. “Now tell me a little bit more about your mother. What were her habits? Was there anyone she could have pissed off? Was she involved with anyone the least bit shady?” Saleem frowned. “Please don’t be offended. I just have to ask all possible questions and look at it from all possible angles.” I waved a hand at my sofa and Saleem sat, although he didn’t look too comfortable.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and linking his fingers. Long, elegant fingers that made me think naughty thoughts. I really had to get a grip. I forced myself to listen to what he was saying. “I completely understand, and I guess for you to do your job properly you need to know everything. I have to confess I don’t really want to tell you the whole truth about my mother, but I feel I can trust you. And if it can help you find her, then it would be worth it.”
I sat on the sofa opposite him and digested his words. He seemed so serious, his eyes dark, his lips a thin line. “It is possible there is one good reason why someone would want to abduct my mother. You see, my mother is Aisha, Queen of the Djinn.”
I swallowed a gasp. I blinked and tried to process the reality of who I actually had in my home. Saleem was a prince. Something inside me reminded me that he was not only a prince, but a demon prince, which put him securely on the don’t-even-think-about-it list.
Chapter 18
Mel
Saleem chuckled. “Lost for words, are you?” he asked, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
I nodded. “Definitely lost for words. It’s not often that my home is graced with the presence of a prince.”
He shrugged. “Well, in the last two years, the last thing I have felt was princely.” He shook his head. “Believe me. Sometimes I think it would be much better to not have the burden of my name weighing me down.”
“So who is looking after your kingdom now that your mother hasn’t been around?”
“That would be my brother,” he said, his face a little sad. “He is too young to bear the responsibility of the kingdom. But we had no choice. I was the only one who could go looking for Mother. I do go home often enough to help him out. He’s getting the hang of it.”
“Does he not like the job?”
“Not really. He’s more of a free spirit. Responsibilities weigh him down. Stifle him. I just hope we can find our mother. At least get some resolution as soon as possible. I’m just not sure how long he will put up with the responsibilities of her kingdom.”
“So tell me, why is it you were the one to join Omega? I’m assuming you joined as a way to take advantage of Omega’s resources?”
Saleem nodded and rubbed his forehead. “All elder djinn sons are trained for war. Riz was not destined for the throne. A bit of a slacker, really.” He grinned. “And he’ll tell you himself I am right. He just wasn’t leader material and Mother knew it. Harsh as it may sound, Mother wrote him off as a potential for the crown.”
“So you are the rightful king?” I swallowed, feeling a little shell-shocked.
“Yeah, for what it’s worth. All I’m doing now is treading water, waiting to hear something about my mother’s whereabouts. I’ve wasted two years with Omega, and I figure it wouldn’t hurt to get some help.”
I sat forward. “I’ll help you. I have somewhere else to be tomorrow. But as soon as I get back, I promise I will give it my utmost attention.”
Saleem rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. I dragged my eyes away from them and took a deep breath. “About your fee?” Saleem spoke, bringing my attention back to him. “How much do you charge?”
I stared at him, for a moment unsure what to say. Do you offer to work for royalty for free? But most royals were loaded, so they would be able to afford to pay for my services. And yet the thought of taking money from Saleem made me slightly ill. “Look, let’s leave the money talk for after I find your mother.”
Saleem gave me an odd look, but just nodded. Then he rose so suddenly I was immediately wary. “Okay. Thanks for taking my case.” He stood there looking so uncomfortable and out of place. Gone was cocky, sexy Saleem.
The man before me revealed a vulnerability in his eyes that made me want to walk over and give him a hug. People lose people all the time. But people don’t just disappear—they leave, they break your heart, they betray you. Disappearing is endless. No closure until someone leads you to a grave or a dumpsite in a hillside a hundred miles away.
I stood up and walked around the coffee table. I wasn’t sure what to do with my hands. Suddenly I was self-conscious and uncertain. Usually I was hard and unemotional so the families wouldn’t use me as a crutch. So I could walk away if I failed. But with Saleem, I wanted to rush off right this minute to find his mother for him. I knew his pain. Knew it so well I breathed that agony day and night.
“I know it sounds trite, but don’t worry. I’ll find her if she’s—” I clamped my mouth shut.
Put a foot in it, why don’t you!
But he didn’t take offense. Just rubbed his face and gave me an awkward grin. “If she is alive. I know. You don’t need to soften the reality of it for me.”
I placed my hand on his and tried to ignore the sizzle of heat that ran through my fingers. “I do think there is more value in her alive. So I’m pretty confident she is alive.” I was so tempted to ask him for something of hers, so motivated to do a projection right now. His eyes were my undoing—filled with gratitude and yet still containing a playful spark. I sighed and I made up my mind at that moment. “Do you have something of your mother’s?”
“Yeah. Some clothes. A set of jewelry.”
“Anything biological?” He frowned. “Hair. Blood. Something living that contains her DNA. It’s the most accurate way of tracking her. The DNA will lead me right to her.”
Saleem remained silent for a few moments. “Yeah. I do have something. A silver brush and comb set. Omega asked specifically for her hair so they could sample her DNA in case it could help them find her.”
I snorted. “What were they expecting to do with it?”
“They said a DNA profile on file would be advantageous. DNA from certain investigations could then be compared to hers. They did say it was a long shot.”
“How soon can you get me the hair sample?” I asked. Saleem held up a finger, and before I could tell him to drop it off with Steph the next day, he disappeared in a flash of fiery red and orange embers.
I stared around the room, my mouth still hanging open. Just as I clamped it shut, Saleem reappeared, giving off a blast of fiery sparks. He held out a small felt covered box, the center of its lid inscribed with a golden crest. “No time like the present.”
He seemed pretty proud of himself, eager to give me what I needed. I didn’t have the heart to tell him to wait so I leaned forward and took the box, careful to ensure our skin did not touch. I needed a clear head and he seemed to understand.
He stepped away and walked to the sofa. I moved to the coffee table and
sat opposite him again. Placing the box on the table, I opened the lid and laid it aside carefully. The crest looked beautiful and fragile.
Don’t break it, Mel.
I lifted the silver hairbrush from the box and sure enough, dozens of strands of jet-black hair still clung to the bristles. I glanced up at Saleem. “Can you take a strand out for me and place it on the table?” His eyebrows fluttered in question. “I don’t want to touch it until I’m ready.” He nodded and proceeded to remove a strand and place it beside the box. Then he sat back and waited.
I shook my hands and took a deep breath. Then I reached out and picked up the strand, holding it carefully between two fingers. The feedback was strong and my gut tightened, the strength of the resonance pressed me hard into the back of the sofa. I glanced up at Saleem, who’d moved to the edge of his seat, his face twisted with concern.
I gave him an encouraging smile. The strength of the feedback meant nothing yet. Until I tested it, it remained merely a strand of live DNA. I swallowed and sat back. Only when I was settled did I allow myself to test the thread properly, and my mind went flying along the link.
And touched life.
The beats of a heart echoed back to me, soft sighs of breath. I felt tension and frustration creep toward me through the connection.
Then I let go of the connection and leaned forward to place the hair on the table.
Saleem cleared his throat. “Is she–”
I raised a hand and he stopped speaking. “She is alive. And it feels like she is well. I didn’t sense pain. But I did get a strong impression of anger and frustration. So your mom is certainly not happy about her situation.”
He laughed. “Yeah. Mother isn’t the kind of woman who happily sits back and lets things happen. She’s a doer and she’s pretty feisty.”
I nodded and smiled. “I get the feeling she wouldn’t be giving her captors an easy time.”
“Nope.” He grinned at me, but there was a hardness around his eyes that spoke of years of worry and grief. “Thanks for doing that for me. Knowing she is alive and well is enough to tide me over until you complete your case.”
I stood up and tightened the muscles in my legs. They threatened to fall from beneath me. I must have been far more tired than I realized. Projecting was exhausting, but not to such an extent that a short test would drain my strength this way. It meant I needed a solid rest before I left to fetch Samantha.
Saleem spoke before I could. “Is there anything I can do to help you?” When I frowned in confusion, he continued, “In your case, I mean.”
I shook my head. Although I was down one with Drake out of commission, I preferred not to get Saleem involved in my work, especially with his double whammy of Fulbright and Omega. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be fine. I’ll contact you as soon as I have my stuff done.” Then I turned and walked to entrance hall, and was relieved when he followed me. Before I opened the door, I asked, “Are you okay though? Not feeling dizzy or anything?”
“Me? No. I’m fine.” He laughed. “Oh, you mean after my fainting spell? Yeah, I’m all good. That’s some powerful magic you have there. I’ll sleep peacefully from now on knowing you are well-protected.”
“Who do I need protecting from?” I asked, then blushed at the heated look he gave me. For a moment, I couldn’t remember to breathe. He didn’t answer. Just opened my front door and ran down the stairs and across the lawn to the undercover vehicle at the curb.
He waved as he drove off and I shut the door, feeling suddenly bereft. Even the room felt empty without his presence. I shrugged the thought out of my head, locked up, and headed for bed.
Chapter 19
Mel
I rose early, dressing in dark blue jeans and a white peasant blouse, the purple stone sitting comfortably on my chest. I threw on my favorite leather jacket, needing it more for the convenience of its pockets than anything else.
Scooping the three vials of black liquid out of my jacket pocket, I placed them on my dresser and brushed out my waist length hair. I threaded a piece of cord through the loops on two of the vials, then as I braided my hair, I wove each of them tightly into it. I secured the braid then tucked each bottle into the folds of the weave so well nobody would ever know they were there. I slung the final vial around my neck and it lay low on my chest alongside Natasha’s protection spell.
Gathering up my bag as I went, I hurried to pop my head into Steph’s room. The door was open and I gave it a knock, leaning against the doorjamb. Steph looked up from the small desk we had installed in her room for her homework. She was odd in that she preferred to keep her schoolwork far away from her tech stuff.
“You ready to go?” she asked, looking at me over the tops of her glasses. Her hair was thrown into an untidy bun at the back of her head and held in place with a nicely sharpened pencil. When I nodded, she said, “Be careful, okay?”
“Aren’t I always?” I raised an eyebrow.
“No. You’re not.” Her eyes narrowed at me.
I grinned. Didn’t have a worthy response. “Don’t trash the place while I’m gone.”
“Damn. To think I had a day of trashing all planned.” Steph made a disappointed face. As I moved to leave, she said, “Hey, where’s Drake? I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”
I hesitated, then turned back to face her. When she saw the look on my face, she gasped, her face growing pale. “No. What happened?”
“Nathaniel has him. He’s holding him hostage until I get him a portal key.”
“A portal key? You mean a jump-to-a-different-dimension kind of portal key?” Her mouth dropped open. Then she shook her head. “But that would be a bad idea. A key in the hands of a sorcerer like him?”
“Yeah. I’m with you on that. Only thing is it’s the key for Drake’s life. No choice, really.” I shrugged. “I’ll go for it once I get Samantha safely home.”
Steph gave a slight shake of her head but I could tell she was still in shock. I wanted to comfort her but the thought itself made me feel too vulnerable. As if sharing my fear for Drake would unleash the floodgates. I smiled weakly and turned to leave. Steph sat there in silence.
I loped down the stairs to the kitchen, glad to be away from Steph’s far too perceptive eyes. After a quick breakfast of toast and coffee, I was ready to leave. I flipped open Samantha’s file and grabbed the plastic packet holding her tooth. I tugged my bag over my neck and slung it across my body.
Just being careful, in case I had a hard landing. Taking a deep breath, I picked up the packet and slit the top open, then tipped the tooth into my palm. I felt the immediate connection to the child, the steady thump-thump of her heart, and a sense of sadness that would have brought tears to my eyes if I hadn’t hardened myself to my emotions.
Every time I went on a rescue mission, I deliberately tamped down my emotional response. Often, I had no idea what I would see when I arrived on a jump. If the person was dying or dead, the last thing I needed was to be bawling my eyes out. I needed to filter my emotions, keep them under control.
Now, I refused to feel the echo of sadness in my own heart. I concentrated on the feedback, grabbing hold of the ethereal link shimmering between Samantha and me. I slid along the thread, allowing myself to go careening along so fast I hit ether in under five seconds. I was more confident with this projection, only because I’d done it before. The only precaution I was taking was to project first, rather than jump right into Dastra.
Catching my breath, I slid through the ether, ignoring the insistent tugging of the energy waves. At last, I reached the Veil and sighed. The ether taxed my strength with the sensory overload. I transitioned through the Veil and appeared in Samantha’s cell.
Silence weighed down on the iron room and I blinked in the dull light of the single fluorescent bulb in the center of the ceiling. Movement on the cot bed drew my eyes to the shape beneath the rough spun blanket. The little girl sat up and rubbed her eyes as she stared at me.
A glance around the
room confirmed it was safe. I jumped, my physical body following the thread linking itself to my spirit in Dastra.
I rushed to the edge of the pentagram. “Are you okay?” I asked her, wanting to jump the ward, grab her and get her out of there.
She nodded, her lips curving into a cute toothless grin. “I knew you would come back for me.”
I smiled. “I always keep my promises,” I said, giving her a little wink.
“I know.” Her words were solemn, and I did a double-take. She was so serious, as if she really did know me. What other powers did this kid have? “Okay, Samantha. Can you tell me if the guards come in to check on you regularly?”
“I think so.”
“When was the last time?”
“Some time ago.” She shrugged but the smile she gave me was encouraging. “But it’s okay. I can tell when they are coming.” She tilted her head to one side for a moment, as if listening to a faraway sound I couldn’t hear. “They plan on checking on me but not for a while yet. I will tell you if anyone is coming.”
I nodded slowly. “So you can just read their minds?”
“Yup.”
“And they haven’t tried to block you?”
“Nope. Only the Cloaked Man is hard to read. It’s all a bit fuzzy when I sense him around. And that’s not supposed to happen.” The little girl frowned. She was clearly unhappy at her apparent ineptitude.
I only wasted a moment wondering who the Cloaked Man was. Then I grabbed the vial from my neck and began to unscrew the lid. “Since we are all clear for now, let’s get this show on the road.” I knelt at the edge of the magic circle, which buzzed with energy and stank of dead meat.
“What are you doing?” Samantha asked. She craned her head to see, while swinging her legs back and forth.
“I have a spell that will help me break this ward.” I tipped the contents of the tiny bottle onto the ground allowing it to cover the edge of the circle at my feet. The line was thick but there was enough blood to coat the breadth of it.