The Azar Omnibus: The Complete Azar Trilogy (The Azar Trilogy Book 0)

Home > Other > The Azar Omnibus: The Complete Azar Trilogy (The Azar Trilogy Book 0) > Page 11
The Azar Omnibus: The Complete Azar Trilogy (The Azar Trilogy Book 0) Page 11

by Grace McGinty


  “What could Donovan want so badly that he had to send you around at midnight?” Azar yawned deeply. Her body might be wide awake but her mind was still wistfully looking for some good REM sleep. She took an appreciative sip of her coffee.

  “The Onyx burned to the ground tonight,” Bast said conversationally. Azar almost dropped her cup. She sloshed hot coffee onto her hand as she righted it. Bast reached over with the dish cloth, blotting the coffee off her hand before refilling her cup.

  “Why the hell didn’t you lead with that? Was the club full?” She knew that nightclub fires usually had a high number of fatalities; not just from smoke inhalation and burns, but from hysteria and the trampling that came with it. They’d caught a little bit of that behavior the other night before Bast stepped in.

  “No, Donovan had closed it down for a few days under the guise of necessary maintenance. He had guards there twenty four hours a day but the Rogue managed to sneak past. One of the Were security guards got pretty badly burnt trying to combat the fire and the other security guards had to pull the guy out.”

  Azar shook her head. Weres had greater healing abilities than humans, but it was still completely possible for them to burn to a crisp or pass out from smoke inhalation.

  Azar went to the couch and started pulling on her boots. “We need to go to The Onyx and see if we can help Donovan. Maybe we can find something before the police arrive.”

  Bast was leaning back against the kitchen counter, his head tilted as if listening. Then there was a loud knock on the door. Lucky Mr. Grimond next door was deaf, with all the knocking going on at her door at such an ungodly hour, otherwise he’d definitely complain to her landlord.

  “No need. They came here.” Bast strode over to the door and pulled it open. Six Were's and Donovan piled into her tiny living room. Azar shot Bast a dirty look, and he just grinned. She was sure he invited them here so they wouldn’t all have to pile into his office and crush his precious plants.

  Azar vacated the couch so two of the big Weres could sit down. They were all pretty big actually; five were muscle bound giants, with shoulders like barn doors and no obvious signs of a neck. Jerry from the other night was amongst them. The sixth Were was still very tall, but his body was a lean, tanned muscle, and his abs rippled beneath his tight white tee as he walked. His hair was strawberry blonde and his eyes were the strangest shade of khaki green. It was a jaw dropping combination. He reached a level of physical perfection that surpassed even Keenan and Bast. Definitely some kind of jungle cat, Azar thought appreciatively.

  The sixth Were caught her studying him and winked. “Jaguar, because I know you are wondering,” he said in a Texan accent. Azar gave him a sheepish look. It fit perfectly though; the lean muscle, the loose limbed swagger and his ability to be solitary in a room full of people. She would probably peg the other five as wolves, the more prolific of the Weres.

  Donovan took the remaining chair. He looked terrible. His clothes and face were stained grey with soot, and his hair stuck up at all angles; well, more so than usual. His jaw was tense and his mouth was drawn into a tight slash. His eyes glittered with an anger that she was glad wasn’t aimed at her. She patted him a couple of times on the back, the way one would pat a Rottweiler that you thought was friendly but didn’t really know. She probably would have given him a hug if she wasn’t a little worried about him snapping her in half in a fit of rage. He looked at her and his eyes softened a little, but the rest of his face remained a hard mask.

  She walked tentatively over to the single couch chair and sat on the armrest.

  “I’m assuming you and your little posse here want in on the search for the Rogue?” Donovan’s eyes went hard again and he nodded curtly. “I’m really sorry about the club. Is the security guy okay?” Donovan nodded again, but it was Jerry who answered.

  “Simon only got some superficial burns. A couple of days rest within the pack and he’ll be fine.” Azar only knew a little about Were culture, but she knew that their normally speedy healing abilities were even more accelerated when they were within their family groups. It said something about the depth of his injuries that he would have to be within the pack for a couple of days to heal. Though, Azar was pretty certain that anything short of decapitation would be “superficial” to this bunch.

  “So, he snuck past you guys again? I'd really like to know how he keeps doing that.”

  A chorus of growls resounded throughout the room.

  “Geez, I’m not disparaging your sniffer skills, calm the hell down. All I am saying is that you guys can smell me from the ground floor, yet he can sneak right into an empty room and wander around undetected? As far as I am aware, there is no ability that allows us to mask our scent.”

  Everyone was silently contemplating this little fact when there was another knock at the door. All six Were jumped to their feet in a second and stealthily walked towards her front door. No matter how hard she strained, she couldn’t hear a single footfall. Damn, they were good.

  “Relax guys. I highly doubt the Rogue is just going to knock at the door.” At least, she didn’t think so. She walked over to the door with more confidence than she felt. The last thing she needed was for it to be Mr. Grimond next door, coming over to see what all the noise is about, and instead get torn apart by angry werewolves.

  Azar peaked out the viewer. It was Keenan. She almost wished it was Mr. Grimond. She sighed and opened the door. Keenan leaned in and kissed her cheek.

  “I saw your light on so I thought I’d come and keep…” He stuttered to a stop when he saw her apartment filled to the brim with men. Big, bulky and mostly hunky men. “Uh, keep you company. But I can see you’re about at capacity for company.” He eyed every man in the room warily and they eyed him back with equal hostility. Azar thought she might gag on the testosterone.

  “Okay everyone, let’s just ratchet down the macho factor for a second. This is Keenan Reilly. He is an arson investigator for the NYPD. He is investigating the fires. Keenan this is Donovan, he owns a club in Hoboken.” She indicated Donovan, who looked like a serial killer she'd dragged in off the street. Probably not the most reassuring first impression.

  “The detective and I have already met tonight. He took my statement; he wanted to know if I burnt down my own club for some reason.” Donovan’s voice was gravelly with anger. Not at Keenan, she hoped, because that would not bode well for Keenan’s life expectancy.

  “Standard procedure,” Azar assured him, “and this is Jerry and… uh I have no idea who the rest of them are.” Jerry gave a little finger wave and the other werewolves remained silent. The Werejaguar grinned at Keenan and came over to shake his hand.

  “I’m Oliver, nice to meet you. I also happen to enjoy investigating the apartments of pretty girls in the middle of the night.” He winked at Azar. She really didn’t need another outrageous flirt in her life, but she still blushed an unattractive shade of red. He was just so damn hot. Like melt-your-panties-into-a-puddle-on-the-floor hot. And funny. Funny was her kryptonite. He was going to be trouble, but she couldn’t help herself, she grinned back. He had managed to lower the room’s tension level a little.

  Keenan turned and looked at Bast. “Of course you’re here.” There was a note of resignation in his voice, as if she and Bast were a package deal. Azar wasn’t sure when that had happened, but she knew it meant trouble.

  Bast gave him a megawatt grin. “I was here before the others arrived.”

  Azar shot him a dirty look but it just bounced off Bast’s shield of self-assurance. She pulled a bottle of scotch out of the top cupboard and poured herself a shot. She looked at the group of men still covertly staring at each other and she pulled out her shot glass collection, dusted it off and then poured everyone a round. Oliver came over to lean on the breakfast bar next to Bast. One of the other Weres came over and picked up six shot glasses in one hand, passing them around to Donovan, Jerry and the other Weres.

  “To The Onyx,” Azar toasted. A murmur went
around the room and everyone downed their shot. Keenan stood on the other side of the breakfast bar with her.

  “So I didn’t realize you all knew each other. Are you all part of the same social group?” Keenan asked warily and Azar could have slapped her forehead.

  “Bast and I are old friends,” Donovan responded, but he’d noted the not so subtle insinuation. He eyed Azar with curiosity.

  “Well, as fun as this is, can we get on with it so I can go back to bed?” Azar crossed her arms over her chest. She was too tired to walk on eggshells.

  “I agree,” Oliver said seriously. “Let’s get on with it so I can go back to her bed.”

  Ugh, there was that blush again, but she gave Oliver a mock glare which only made him smirk more. Trouble. With a capital T.

  She turned to Keenan, who was trying to casually scan the room for potential threats. “Donovan and his friends are helping us track down the arsonist. They have a skill set that will make it far more likely that we will find this monster before the cops do. So if you're going to share info, do it now before this psycho barbecues me as well.”

  Keenan’s head whipped around so fast that Azar wondered if he’d given himself whiplash.

  “What do you mean, barbecues you as well?” Whoops, Azar had forgotten that she hadn’t told Keenan about the Rogue’s threats when he had been here earlier. They’d been too preoccupied with other things. Everyone conveniently found somewhere else to look, except Oliver and Bast, who were watching on as if they were about to see a trainwreck. She shot Bast an appealing look and he just shrugged. Asshole.

  “The Rogue cornered me the other night at Donovan’s club. He said I was going to be his big finale. I think he means for me to be the final tribute.” Azar braced herself for impact, but Keenan turned on Bast. He stepped around the counter and got up in Bast’s face.

  “How could you let this happen? You were meant to be protecting her, staying close to her!” He poked Bast in the chest and all the Weres took a collective breath in. “And now a crazed genie wants to make her into a bonfire?”

  The forbidden secret.

  Donovan looked a little shocked that Keenan had just blurted it out liked that. Azar’s knees went weak and Oliver wrapped an arm around her waist quickly. Now they were all in a world of trouble. This is what happened when you told humans things they weren’t supposed to know. Bast’s eyes narrowed and he looked as angry as Azar had ever seen him, which was to say he look mildly peeved.

  “I’d like to get a lot closer to her, and I will very soon. However, Azar can protect herself. She’s not a weak little damsel that you humans seem to enjoy so much. It's you who needs to be careful. You are the only person putting Azar in any danger right now!” His eyes glittered like sharp pieces of amber.

  Keenan seemed to snap out of his caveman rage as the realization of what he said dawned on him. He looked at her, and at the room full of people, and then back at Azar.

  "Fuck.”

  Grinding her teeth, she strode around to the other side of the bench, getting up his face. She wanted to scream at him. Instead, she pulled back her fist and punched him in the nose. She heard the crack. The Weres all sucked in a gasp. “What the hell do you think you are doing? What part of deadly secret did you not get? You have no idea what you’ve done to all of us!”

  Keenan was doubled over holding his nose, blood gushing from it steadily. Oliver looked practically gleeful as he grabbed a dish towel and held it to Keenan's bloody face. After he'd wiped some of the blood away, he tipped Keenan’s head back and examined his nose, which seemed to be sitting at an odd angle on his face.

  “I think she only dislocated it. If you hold still I can pop it back into place.”

  Keenan nodded through watery eyes and held still. There was another audible pop and more groans of sympathy from the couch.

  Azar wasn’t even looking at Keenan; she knew he’d be fine. She was looking between Bast and Donovan, trying to predict what might happen. When she’d let it slip to Bast that Keenan knew about the Djinn in the warehouse, she’d been in shock from finally meeting another Djinn. Plus, he’d caught her in a tough position; either let Keenan shoot him and fail, or warn Keenan and save them all a lot of bloodshed. That had been an easy decision at the time. Bast gave off that kind of reassuring vibe anyway.

  Besides, in reality, the worst case scenario for Bast was the proverbial slap on the wrist. However, Donovan was a whole different kettle of fish. The Shaitan were the most heavily monitored of all the races. Their predisposition towards violence had the potential to bring a lot of negative attention to the Djinn. Any small infraction could result in them getting their head irrevocably removed. Keenan Goddamn Reilly had really put him in a bad position and all three Djinn in the room knew it. He’d have to turn her in. Probably Bast too, though those two had some kind of strange alliance going on that Azar didn’t really understand. But Donovan and Azar barely knew each other; he had nothing to gain by keeping her secret and everything to lose.

  The Weres were looking in any direction but at the three of them. The Djinn Council had no authority over the Were races. She could tell the whole pack that she was an unslaved Djinn who had told a mortal the forbidden secret and they would probably just pat her head then send her on her way. She rubbed her temples and tried to think what she could offer Donovan to stay quiet. She didn’t possess anything of any real value; she was going to have to run, again.

  “At least give me until after Azerasr,” she implored. Donovan nodded and looked at Bast, some kind of unspoken communication passing between them. She turned back to look at Keenan. Someone had found her first aid kit and strapped up his nose. It looked pretty professional and Azar raised her eyebrows at Oliver.

  “It pays to have a doctor in every group. It’s just one of my many talents.” He winked at her again.

  Keenan looked at her pitifully, like a puppy she’d just kicked for peeing on the carpet. Blood had stained the front of his shirt, and both his eyes were black. “Azar…” She held up a hand to cut him off.

  “Just tell us what you know and nothing else. I don’t really want to talk to you right now, but unfortunately I don’t have the luxury of kicking you out and giving you the silent treatment because a crazy person is about to burn up the city of New York!” She huffed and crossed the room to the couch.

  The two huge werewolves shifted over uneasily, and Azar jammed herself down in the middle of them, just to annoy Reilly and Bast. Keenan shot her another apologetic look, and then a couple of warning looks to the two werewolves either side of her. That made one of them chuckle.

  “In regards to evidence at The Onyx, there is no accelerant yet again, just a violent fire that seems to have sprung up out of nowhere.” Keenan’s voice was nasally and he kept wincing as if his nose hurt when he talked. Good. It’d teach him to keep his trap shut. “Obviously, everyone here knows why that is. Other than that, we found some clothes in a dumpster about three blocks down. We are fairly sure the perp changed out of them and tossed them. They were covered in some kind of hair, smelled a little like dog.”

  Everyone had a light bulb moment. That’s how he could sneak in without anyone noticing. They were sniffing so hard for the scent of Ifrit, the smell of another werewolf would hardly have registered to them.

  This brought up another worrying possibility. The Rogue had himself a pet werewolf. Or he was keeping one captive. Apparently everyone else had reached the same conclusion because there was a collective growl around the room. This had just gotten real personal.

  “Did they just growl?” Keenan asked no one in particular.

  Oliver patted him on the back. “Yeah, they’re dogs.” Keenan opened his mouth as if to ask something, then closed it and just shook his head.

  “We’ll check with the pack leader to see if anyone has gone missing or has been suspiciously absent,” Jerry said.

  Donovan sighed. “I guess that is one mystery solved. Doesn’t really help us track him down tho
ugh.” Azar sighed right along with him. There was a clue to the mystery in there somewhere but Azar couldn’t find it. Her gut told her that the answer would be found at the Brownsville apartment.

  “What else do we have on the Brownsville apartment fire?” Azar asked Keenan.

  “Not much more since we did the preliminary investigation there a couple of days ago. I can look into it more if you’d like?” Azar nodded. Something there didn’t make sense. It could have been a lucky guess that a refugee family lived there, it was low income housing after all, but it seemed just a little too targeted, a little too premeditated. There was a link there that they were missing.

  “I think that would be a good idea. I just have a feeling we are missing something. Now everyone get the hell out of my apartment so I can go to bed.” Azar wiggled her way out from between the two werewolves. Every eye turned to follow her as she walked to the door and opened it. Several of the Weres stood, but no one took a step toward the door.

  “Azar, I think you need some form of protection," Keenan said, his arms crossed, giving her a no nonsense look even though his nose had swollen to twice its size. Bast and Donovan were nodding in agreement.

  “It’s the best chance we have at catching this guy in the act. We all know he is coming for Azar, and personally I’d like to be waiting for him.” Donovan’s face looked downright vicious. Retribution and revenge were right in the Shaitan’s comfort zone.

  Keenan was looking at Donovan like he was looking at the Devil himself, and in a way he probably was. Azar knew that there was more to Donovan than his Shaitan exterior, but he could probably still rip a person to shreds without a second thought. It was in his nature, just as it was in hers to embrace fire and in Bast’s to try to create peace for the worthy, or whatever the hell the Jann did. The skill sets of the benevolent races were a little more ambiguous than the more destructive races.

 

‹ Prev