“You're in the way again, half blood. You’ve drawn attention to me and now my work is going to be harder to achieve. But I will complete the ritual and you will be my glorious finale.” His teeth flashed in the strobe lights, a disturbing grin twisting his face.
Then he was gone, melting back into the crowd so quickly she wondered if he was even there to start with.
Azar stood still in the sea of people, shocked to have been in the presence of such evil. He made Donovan look like a Presidential candidate. She shook herself out of her stupor and pushed her way through the crowd towards Bast and Donovan. She knew the Rogue was going to hit right now. She surged forward and all but tackled Bast.
“He’s here!” she yelled above the music. Donovan went on high alert, his finger instantly going to his ear to warn his security team. Someone pulled the fire alarm and the sprinkler system was activated, water pouring down on the people jammed tightly into the club. Azar desperately searched around for any signs of a flame, but she picked up nothing.
People were starting to run for the exits, pushing and shoving each other to get to the door first. Donovan’s security were trying to maintain calm and still be on high alert for the Rogue, but there were too many panicked people trying to climb over one another to get the exit doors.
Burt the fire marshal would definitely be having a coronary right about now.
“Bast, do something!” Azar yelled over the terrified screams of the humans. Bast jumped up onto the bar, without using his hands and looked out over the crowd.
Almost instantly the crowd stopped and turned simultaneously, all eyes focused on Bast. Standing with his arms spread wide, his eyes closed against the chaos in front of him, the only sign he was doing anything strenuous was the two little creases marking the smoothness of his forehead. Then, simultaneously again, everyone in the club turned and filed calmly out of the exits in four distinct lines.
Azar gaped at the sheer power. There must have been five hundred people crowded into the club, and Bast had reached into and controlled the minds of every one of them. A shiver ran across her skin. She hadn’t realized that the Jann even had such ability. She silently added a few hundred years to his age. He had to be older than she first guessed to have accrued that much raw power.
He looked down at her from his perch on the bar, and saw her look of horror. The strain was gone from his face but his eyes still glowed like shining, golden orbs and his pupils were practically non-existent. He blinked once and his eyes went back to normal. He smiled at her and gave a self-depreciating shrug. Like what he had just done wasn’t both terrifying and awe-inspiring.
Azar cast her mind around the now empty club, but she couldn’t sense the presence of a fire or of the Rogue. She cast out her mind further, taking in the surrounding streets and apartment buildings and still sensed nothing. The Rogue wasn’t in the area.
“Dammit!” She kicked the bar. Bast jumped down, landing with perfect grace beside her.
“Is he gone?”
She nodded, too angry to reply. He’d been right there, within her grasp and she’d lost him. She'd frozen up like a deer in the headlights and given that psychotic firebug a chance to escape. She was such an idiot.
Donovan strode over, looking as deadly as she knew he was. His black eyes looked hard and cruel, his mouth was twisted in a mean grimace. To say he looked angry would be an understatement.
“Where is he?” His voice was a low growl.
A security guard strode over before she had a chance to answer, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn't be sure that she wouldn't wet herself if Donovan turned his wrath on her. The guard was some kind of Were and his body was poised for a fight; from Donovan or the Rogue, Azar was not certain.
“We’ve searched the club and the surrounding streets. We picked up the scent of Ifrit but we are unsure if it was the Rogue or the girl.” He jerked his chin in her direction.
Donovan and the Were turned to stare at her, their thoughts transparent. What if the Rogue really wasn’t here at all? What if she was the Rogue and this was all an elaborate ruse to throw the only Shaitan in NYC off her trail?
“Don’t be a jerk, Donovan. It isn’t me. It's not my fault that your pet can’t tell the difference between two different scents. Maybe his nose is impotent?"
The Were snarled and took a step toward her. She narrowed her eyes and stepped up to meet him face to face. She needed to vent some frustration and smashing this asshole’s nose would help a lot.
“What’d you say to me? I’m gonna tear you to pieces, bitch!” the Were growled, his eyes flashing yellow and his teeth lengthening.
“Not if I barbecue your fuzzy ass first, fleabag!” The fire rippled under Azar’s skin, begging to get out. It seared blissfully where her wings would burst through her back. The flames pushed through her flesh and made her hands glow like white-hot embers. She knew she was reacting more violently than she normally would, but it was the last straw in a day that had just been too much.
The sound of laughter penetrated the red haze that surrounded her. She whipped her head around to see Bast doubled over, laughing. Even Donovan was chuckling. She shot them both daggers and stepped away from the Were. She hoped he knew how lucky he was.
Azar crossed her arms over her chest. “Look, he was here and he was pissed off. He said that I was ruining his plans and that I would be his big finale.”
All the humor left Bast’s face in an instant. It didn’t take a genius to work out what the threat meant. He was going to use her as the Ifrit pledge.
“I can loan you Jerry for protection,” Donovan offered, indicating the Were next to him. Jerry’s jaw dropped and a look of horror froze on his brutish features, rekindling Donovan’s fit of giggles.
“Thanks for the offer but I'd rather take my chances with the Rogue. Besides, I’m not his only target. You are going to need all the help you can get to protect this place and any else you value.” Even as Azar said the last part, she knew it sounded dumb. Shaitan didn’t have little cottages in the woods where they went when the world got too rough for them.
To her relief, Donovan didn’t laugh at her again. In fact, he looked almost pensive. He nodded and turned, giving orders to Jerry, who immediately strode off into the darkness of the club. Azar got the overwhelming feeling that there was more to Donovan than what showed on the surface. He was a man with secrets, like all Djinn. But somehow, she didn’t think his secret was related to a mass grave out in some far flung national park. Maybe, just maybe, the big bad Shaitan wasn’t as bad as he seemed.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” Azar asked. Both Donovan and Bast looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “What? It’s a legitimate question.”
“No, I don’t. Are you offering?” Donovan raised his eyebrows. He really was kind of attractive in a bad boy way, but Azar shook her head.
“No, sorry. I have enough problems.” Wasn’t that the truth. Her eyes slid to Bast, who smirked back. “What about a pet puppy?”
“No”
“Goldfish?”
“No”
“A secret love child?”
Donovan hesitated briefly. Bingo. “No.”
But the hesitation had been too long. He obviously wanted to keep it a secret, which was fine with her. She met Donovan’s hard eyes and gave him a reassuring look. She’d keep his secrets, but one day, she might need to use it as collateral. She wasn’t against racking up debts for the greater good, even if she never intended to act on them.
She elbowed Bast in the stomach and he let out a cough. “Everyone has secrets. It’s none of my business what they are. But if it were my secret, I’d ensure that it was extremely well protected for the next four or five days. Better yet, get them the hell out of New York City all together.” Bast looked at the gold Rolex that shone on his wrist. “We should get going, Azar. I wouldn’t want the good Detective trying to put a bullet in me for having you home late.”
Donovan raised his eyebrows at B
ast's words.
Azar tried to copy one of those nonchalant shrugs that everyone liked so much.
“Like Bast said, everyone has secrets.”
Chapter 8
Azar popped one eye open and looked at the clock. Nine A.M. She had a brief moment of panic before she remembered it was Sunday and it was her day off. She rolled out of bed and padded out to the kitchen in an oversized T-shirt with the FDNY logo on the back. When Bast had dropped her home last night, she'd been glad that there was no Keenan waiting at her door. She poured herself a bowl of cereal and got out the ingredients for Zareshk Polow.
Every Sunday she went over to Joe’s house and had lunch with his family and Zareshk Polow was her contribution to the meal. The whole ritual made Sunday her favorite day of the week. She liked cooking the traditional meal because the smell of the spices reminded her of her mother, who’d made the dish every year for Azar’s birthday, right up until the year she died.
As nostalgic as cooking the dish was, it was eating at Joe's place with his family that really made the day. Every time she went there, she would walk into the same setting; the kids would be running around screaming, Joe’s father would be sitting in Joe’s favorite chair watching the football or baseball, depending on the season, and Joe’s mother and his wife Linda would be in the kitchen cooking enough food for an army. Then Joe's sisters and their families would arrive to add to the mayhem. Eventually all the kids would be banished outside to run off some energy and a huge football game would ensue until Mama Maconi called them all in for lunch. It was a beautiful family environment, filled with so much love that they generously shared with her.
She had just put the rice on the stovetop to steam when there was a knock at her door. She wandered over and peeped through the hole.
Keenan was there holding a tray with two cups of coffee and a brown bag that she hoped contained some form of pastry. She looked down at her bare legs, shrugged, and opened the door with a smile.
“Well, hey there, Sailor. What’s in the bag?” She stood aside to let Keenan past. He looked at her legs, then through the door, then back at her legs before he entered. She smiled to herself as she shut the door and followed him into the kitchen.
He placed the coffees and the paper bag on the counter. “I bought us some doughnuts. I thought you could tell me how it went last night with Bast.” He sniffed the air. “Something smells really great in here.” He wandered over to the pot where the rice was steaming on top of sliced potatoes and lifted the lid. Azar picked up the wooden spoon and whacked him on the knuckles.
“Hands off or you’ll ruin it. I have lunch at Joe’s on Sundays and if you ruin my Zareshk Polow, Linda will track you down and set a mob of angry children onto you.” She leaned onto the kitchen counter and pulled a doughnut out of the bag. Keenan rubbed his red knuckles, pouting as he came over to join her. He stood behind her, so close that she could feel the warmth of his body on her back and the rough brush of his denim jeans over the back of her thighs.
“I didn’t know you could cook,” he whispered in her ear. He rested his hands on her hips and pulled her back until she was nestled against his body.
“I, uh, can’t really. I’m just good at one or two things.” Her thought processes were getting foggier the further up her ribcage his hands ran. “You have forty minutes until this dish burns. So if you’re making a move, you better make it quick, Reilly.”
Keenan flipped her around and his mouth covered hers in a searing kiss. His hands slid to her ass and he boosted her up onto the kitchen bench. He pulled her shirt over her head and started nibbling and kissing his way down from her neck. He got down to her hip bone and grinned up at her.
“I’m good at one or two things too.” He hooked two fingers under the waistband of her panties and slowly slid them down her thighs, trailing lingering kisses in their wake. Once they got to her knees, he let them slip down her dangling legs and she kicked them over her feet. He kissed his way back up her leg and bit the delicate skin of her inner thigh. Azar's skin felt hot and chilled simultaneously, her breathing short and sharp. He pulled her towards him and hooked her knees over his shoulders, gently nudged her backwards until she was lying on the kitchen bench. His hands held her hips up off the bench top.
He leaned forward and Azar could feel his warm breath on her center. She held her breath as he stilled, only inches away so that she could feel the heat of his skin. It seemed like an eternity before she felt the flick of his tongue on her clit, and a moan bubbled up from her throat. He flicked his tongue more vigorously and Azar squirmed on the bench, trying to pull him closer and hold on to sanity. The man had a tongue like a sea serpent!
“Holy fuck,” Azar moaned as his tongue swirled and caressed. His hands massaged her ass and stroked up and down her spine. Her back arched upwards, her thighs so tight around his head that he was probably going to have a headache later, but she couldn't bring herself to care about anything but the amazing sensations he was producing with his mouth. The pressure built up in her groin until she knew she was close.
Keenan must have sensed how close to coming she was, as he pulled back and moved her legs to his waist. Azar was surprised to see that at some point he'd already shucked off his jeans and his shirt quickly followed. She sat up and wrapped her arms around his neck, and he moved them straight down onto the kitchen floor. He pulled a condom out of the back pocket of his discarded jeans. He slid it onto his straining cock.
Azar couldn't help but smile. “Do you carry one of those in your back pocket all the time?” He grinned sheepishly and knelt between her legs. He pressed his body to hers, leaning in to kiss her, his tongue delving into her mouth and she could taste a faint trace of herself on his lips. All coherent thought left her mind as he slid into her body. He groaned into her mouth as his pace quickened and Azar shattered around him. She bit his shoulder to muffle her cries. He slowed a little and then rolled them over so she was straddling his hips.
She grinned down at him and moved against him slowly, her body undulating over his until he picked up her rhythm. His hands ran over her breasts and the rough scrape of his thumbs over her sensitive nipples made her body clench around his. As the warmth grew in her body, her pace quickened, and Keenan was thrusting up to meet her, his hands pulling down on her hips so he was buried deep inside her.
Their bodies shone with sweat and their groans of pleasure echoed around the room. The waves of ecstasy battered at Azar until she once again tipped over the edge and Keenan was right behind her. Her body arched backwards and Keenan sat up and wrapped his arms around her waist, dragging her back down until she was gasping for breath against his chest. Their bodies shone with sweat and her hair stuck to her face.
“You weren't kidding about being good at that,” she said between gasps for breath. Keenan ran his fingertips over her shoulder blade gently.
“I'm a man of the law. I never lie.” Azar scoffed and Keenan grinned. “Well, at least not about the important things.” He pressed a kiss to her neck. “Like how hot I think you are, and how badly I want to be inside you again.” He pressed another kiss to the curve of her shoulder. Azar glanced at the Hello Kitty clock on her wall, a gift from the guys at the station house for her last birthday.
She raised her eyebrows. “You know, we still have another fifteen minutes. If you work fast we can make all your wishes come true,” she purred.
“All my wishes? I don't think there would be enough time in a month to do all the things I wish to do to you. But we could probably knock one or two off the list.” He slapped her ass cheek. “But not on the kitchen tiles. My fantasies don't involve my ass cheeks turning into popsicles.”
Azar climbed to her feet, and Keenan stood up after her. He ran a finger down between her breasts and she was struck again how sexy this man was. Suddenly, he bent over and deadlifted Azar over his shoulder.
“Keenan, put me down,” she half squealed, half giggled. Keenan just ignored her and deposited her on the couch laug
hingly.
“Now about those wishes,” he murmured in her ear, “do I get three?” He nibbled on her earlobe.
“I'm not that kind of genie,” Azar whispered back breathlessly.
“Are you sure? Because I think I wished for you every night that I was alone in my bed. Now hush, I'm working on a time limit here. Lucky for you, I do my best work under pressure.”
He wasn't wrong.
Twenty-five minutes and two more spectacular orgasms later they were lying on the couch naked and sweating. Azar eased herself up and wandered over to the kitchen. Standing back at the stove top, she sautéed off the barberries, and layered up the Zareshk Polow in a big casserole dish. Keenan was pulling his clothes back on and tossed Azar her shirt. She stretched out her shoulders languorously before pulling it over her head
“I have to shower before I go to Joe’s,” she told him. Keenan immediately started to undress again and Azar laughed. “Alone. If you help me shower, I will never get there and Mama Maconi will assume I’m dead and call the police.” Keenan sighed and buttoned up his shirt again. He came over to the kitchen and swiped some of the rice out of the casserole dish. Then he moaned long and low, his face disturbingly similar to his ‘I’m about to come’ expression.
“Holy crap, this is great. You weren’t kidding about doing this good.” He took another spoonful of rice.
“You weren’t either.” She gave him a saucy wink as she wandered up the hall. “And stop eating my food. The threat about Linda wasn’t an empty one, you know.”
Twenty short minutes later, Azar was dressed in a knee length sundress and sandals, as was appropriate for a traditional Italian Sunday feast. She’d put on some lip gloss and pulled her dark hair into a ponytail.
The Azar Omnibus: The Complete Azar Trilogy (The Azar Trilogy Book 0) Page 9