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

by Grace McGinty

  Bast smiled back, and then his smile turned to a frown. An angry frown.

  “I have to go. They've knocked you out, and you are getting medical care, but I must leave. I cannot maintain the connection.” Even as he said it, the oasis was drifting away. But Azar was certain that the tune to the Rolling Stones song ‘(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction’ was playing in the air when the world finally went dark again.

  Azar’s eyes opened slowly on the stark white room around her. What she wouldn’t give to wake up in her bedroom for once. This room looked like a maximum security psych ward. The door was thick solid metal, the walls were smooth and the furnishings were minimal. Just a single bed, and a toilet and sink combo in the corner. Azar was under no illusion to where she was. She was in a Council prison cell.

  You save a city and you get thrown in jail. That’s gratitude Djinn style. She tried not to feel bitter about the fact, but was failing miserably.

  Attempting to sit up, she set off some kind of alarm because she was attached to several monitors, and was hooked up to an IV through a needle in her hand. She gazed down at a big square dressing decorating the space in-between her breasts.

  She was wearing white pajama pants and a wrap top that was tied up to the side. Slave garb. She felt her panic rise in her chest and the heart rate monitor started to protest loudly. She tore at the cables attached to her chest. She needed to get out of here. She couldn’t serve her slavedom now, she would be dead before it ended.

  As she ripped at the cables and tubes attached to her body, the door opened and a woman rushed in. It was the same woman from the ferry and Azar searched her fuzzy brain for her name.

  “Calm down, you’re going to tear out your IV,” she said in a melodic, soothing voice. “I’m Mira. Do you remember me?” She gently pushed her back down onto the bed, and Azar felt herself sliding back from hysteria.

  Where the hell did she think she was going anyway? Did she really think they were just going to let her waltz out of the Council prison, through all the Adel and be on her merry way? Azar let out a defeated sigh, and stopped resisting Mira’s hands.

  Mira was still talking to her in soft tones. “That’s good. Now, let’s just get these reattached. Bast would kill me if I let anything happen to you.”

  Mira had a beautiful face. She reminded Azar of a siren, all golden, Nordic beauty. She had white blond hair that flowed down her back in soft waves, and gentle light blue eyes the color of the Adriatic Sea. Her skin was a creamy shade that you only ever saw in Renaissance portraits. She was still in the light blue leather outfit she wore on the ferry, and up close Azar could tell that it was well worn and buttery soft, moving with her body like a second skin. She was tiny and Azar would be surprised if Mira pushed 5'3 in heels.

  “How do you know Bast?” Azar asked, eying the beautiful woman and telling herself not to be jealous. Apparently, she didn’t control the urge that well because Mira took one look at her face and laughed.

  “We don’t know each other like that. I’m Moselle’s daughter. Bast and I have known each other a very long time.” Her response seemed legit.

  Moselle had gifted his part of Coney Island to Bast before he died, which seemed a little odd considering he had a daughter to inherit it. Azar briefly remembered what Bast had said about Moselle going back to the motherland to die, and murmured her sympathies.

  Mira smiled sadly and waved her hand. “It was a long time ago now. The pain of his loss still hurts, but I understand that it was his time to go. He led a gentle life and he didn’t approve of my choices, so we did not speak much in his last centuries. I was glad that Bast was there for him. My father lived a full and happy life and died at peace with the world. That is all anyone can ask.” Mira pretended to concentrate on the monitor attached to her chest, but Azar could see her blinking rapidly. She changed the subject to something less painful for the woman.

  “Are you Adel?” Azar whispered quietly. It was like asking the woman if she was the boogeyman. The Adel were the hell hounds of the Djinn world. They were shrouded in myth and stories, each one scarier and more brutal than the last.

  Mira nodded as she finished reattaching the wires that Azar had torn off, and sat down on the end of the bed. “I am. I have been Adel for over three hundred years.”

  Azar let out a gasp of surprise. Three hundred years of slavery? Azar looked at her wrist and noticed she did not wear slave cuffs. She was obviously one of the few who chose to stay on after their servitude was finished. She didn’t look like a homicidal maniac or someone who enjoyed killing. In fact she looked almost beatific.

  Mira laughed at her again. “I get that look a lot. The Adel are like any other kind of enforcement group. You have those that have to be here through conscription and those who are only here because they like the feeling of power. Then there are a few who start out for the right reasons, but have trouble taking orders from the Council, especially when it involves seemingly senseless killing. And then you get the few who get conscripted but stay because what we do makes a difference to lives, both Djinn and human. We make the world safer for everyone. That’s why I have stayed for so long. But being in the Adel is not for everyone.” Mira’s beautiful face looked sad for a minute and she turned her face away. Azar got the feeling she was thinking about something in particular.

  But the look was fleeting and her face was pleasantly happy again when she turned back to Azar. “Now I have to get your account of what happened. There will be a trial for Fareet, just as a matter of course. I can promise you that he is very, very dead. Also, there will be another trial for you, in regard to your unserved slavedom and unsanctioned disclosure to a human. Normally, that would mean instant death for any Djinn, however, given your circumstances and the powerful connections you have, the Council has decided to give you a trial instead. Your fate will be decided by vote.”

  Azar was confused. What connections? Did she mean Bast and Donovan? Maybe Anton from the Were’s? She didn’t think any of their opinions would hold much weight within the Council. She felt like Alice down the rabbit hole, except instead of getting to Wonderland, the rabbit hole was filling up with water and she was drowning. She felt helpless.

  “Just start at the beginning,” Mira said soothingly.

  As Azar recounted her version of events, she went with the honesty is the best policy plan. Lying about everything would get her nowhere now. The tiny Marid recorded Azar's statement in a small notebook, her hands flowing so fast you could barely see the pen. She told her about her mother, growing up on the run, her job as a firefighter, discovering the Djinn mark at the site of the apartment fire. She hesitated over the parts about Keenan, but she knew that Donovan would have already told the Council about Keenan's involvement. She was a little angry, but she couldn’t blame him. If the Council had found out he'd omitted that fact, and she was sure that they would have, he would have been imprisoned or even faced death right alongside her. The Djinn were a hard bunch like that.

  So instead, she explained about Keenan, about her feelings for him. She explained how he had helped her find Ellis Fareet, had investigated the fire and kept their secret at the expense of his own career and even his life. She explained about meeting Bast at Coney Island, and Lila, who didn’t inform the Council about the Fire Pledge.

  Mira frowned at that and her eyes turned hard as she scribbled something angrily into the margin of the notebook. Azar thought maybe the uppity little Ghul might get a visit from a very grumpy group of Adel soon. She told Mira about meeting Donovan and her meeting with Anton, the Alpha of the Sterling Forest Pack.

  “Yes, we have already spoken to the Alpha, and the boy Aaron,” Mira told her.

  “Is he okay?” Azar asked. She dreaded the answer, but at least he was alive and coherent if he was giving statements.

  “He’s damaged, mentally and physically. But he has a strong spirit and the love of his pack, so I am sure he will make a full recovery. He was most anxious about your welfare. It appears you ha
ve made a lifelong friend out of this ordeal,” she said with a gentle smile that made her face glow.

  “However long that may be,” Azar said quietly. They both knew that there was a possible death sentence at the end of her trial. Mira nodded sadly, but urged her to continue the story.

  Azar sighed heavily. She told Mira of the plan, and how it went wrong. She shivered as she remembered being stuffed into the trunk with what she thought was the dead body of Aaron, and about the wounds that riddled his poor young body. She explained about the drug, the heat resistant metal that Fareet had forged, his explanation about how he faked his own death and found Drakhul. She explained everything that happened on the ferry, right up until the time that Mira arrived.

  “And that’s it,” Azar said, closing her eyes. She felt as if she had just signed her death warrant, as well as Keenan’s and maybe even one for Bast.

  Mira stood up and came to the head of the bed. “I’ll inform Bast that you are awake. He has been quite the burr in the Adel backside while you have been resting these last two days.” She leaned over to cup Azar’s cheek. “Do not despair Azar; you are a hero. That makes you someone worth saving. I will make sure they know this.” Azar was shocked by the intimacy of the action, and just mutely watched as Mira turned and left, the door to her cell closing with a gentle whoosh of air.

  It was another two days before Bast was allowed in to see her. The Adel treated her kindly, taking her off the monitors after Mira’s visit. A nice doctor came to visit her several times to change her dressings and ensure she was healing properly. The IV was taken out of her hand, and she was encouraged to drink and eat soups, which she did with the ferocity of a person who hadn’t eaten in a week. Mira came to visit her several more times, but Azar was itching to see a familiar face.

  When Bast walked through the door, Azar did something so out of character that it shocked them both. She burst into tears. Bast had her in his arms before the first tear could slide down the length of her face and he murmured reassuring things into her hair. She just sobbed.

  Everything that she’d been storing up, the fear during the fight with Fareet and the injustice of being locked away in a Council cell, it all just bubbled over to form a monsoon of tears that she couldn’t control. Bast manoeuvred her over to the bed and sat down, pulling Azar onto his lap. He let her cry until her sobs turned into whimpers, and her whimpers turned into hiccups.

  When the tears had stopped falling she raised her head and looked shyly up at Bast’s face. “Sorry.”

  He kissed her lips gently. “Don’t be. It’s been overwhelming for me too. But everything will be okay. You have my word.”

  Azar nodded and sat up, pulling herself together. Bast stroked her hair away from her face and looked at her with so much compassion that she almost burst into a fresh round of tears.

  “Thanks for coming to save me. I didn't think you would track me down on the ferry until it was too late.” She rested her head against his chest, not ready to give up the warmth of his body yet. Bast had one arm tightly around her, and he didn’t look ready to let her go either.

  “The Weres tracked you to the ferry terminal. Keenan flashed his badge at the attendant and found out that one of the ferries hadn’t reached its destination and we put two and two together. Oliver stole a speed boat tethered at the marina next door and we searched the bay until we found you.

  “I had to call Mira because I had no idea how to save you without getting you killed. I’m sorry; it’s my fault you are in here.” His voice was gravelly and he looked so tortured that Azar’s hand moved out to touch his face instinctively. She looked into his eyes and she could see so much pain there. “I thought I was too slow. I thought you were going to die.”

  “You’re the reason I’m still alive. I'd say we are square.” She kissed his cheek to hide a blush. “Thank you for the oasis also.” She still didn't know where they stood, and their time in the oasis had made things more complicated. However, as there was a fairly good chance she wouldn't survive the week, she didn't need to explore her feelings at this moment. She changed the topic. “Where was Keenan? I can remember you shouting orders at Oliver and Donovan, but I don't remember anything about Keenan.” She knew she should feel awkward asking one love interest about another, it was probably very poor form, but the crazy love triangle thing they had going on almost felt natural now. Comfortable even.

  “I had to get Tao to knock him out and tie him up in the back seat of his car. He threatened to shoot us all if we didn’t let him on the boat. I think he would have too. He wanted to be there to save you so badly. But I thought it wouldn't be such a good idea, seeing how I'd called Mira. I didn’t want her to conveniently tie up loose ends. He went a little crazy when we found out you’d been abducted.” Azar shot straight up. She’d forgotten about Joe.

  “Jesus, what about Joe? Is he okay?” She jumped to her feet, feeling awful because she hadn’t asked about her best friend until now. The sound of Joe being cracked on the back of the head still echoed in her ears.

  “Joe is fine. His helmet took the brunt of the blow. He had a mild concussion and had to stay the night in hospital. He’s been calling Keenan every five minutes wanting updates. We told him and your Chief that you’d been abducted by a terrorist group who wanted to use you as a catalyst for a war. We told him that Oliver was an undercover Fed who was trailing you for your protection and that we were FBI. They believed it, but not until Council created some fake documentation for them to see.” Azar wasn't surprised the Council had people who could manipulate the human FBI databases. Bast pulled her back down onto his lap. “We have a lot to thank Joe for. He got a partial number plate before he lost consciousness. It allowed us to pick up Fareet’s trail quicker.” Bast lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the tip of every finger in a gesture so loving that she felt tears well behind her eyes.

  “And before you ask, Aaron is also fine. We saw him fall into the water but Mira and her partner Joia arrived just in time to fish him out. He had some broken bones, and that knife was still lodged in his chest, but Tao got him back to a Pack doctor as quickly as he could. Oliver said he’s mending. He wakes up with night terrors every night, and some of the things that Ellis Fareet did to him make me want to kill that scum all over again, but all in all, Aaron is getting better. He refused to let them treat the hand shaped burn on his side where you sealed up that wound. He said he wanted to keep it as a reminder that you saved his life and that he owes you. I think seeing you would help a lot.” A sad smile curled his lips. “It would help Oliver a lot too. He blames himself for your abduction, even though he couldn’t have possibly scented Aaron or Fareet over the smoke from the fire.”

  Poor Oliver. He had such a big heart underneath all that flashy bravado. She wanted to be curled around his giant jaguar right now, safe and warm and not about to get her head chopped off.

  They sat in silence for a little while. Bast just rocked her on his lap, one hand holding her tight and the other stroked her hair. At least her friends would be safe from Balraka, and the Djinn would remain hidden for a little while longer.

  “If things go bad, can you please make sure Keenan gets away safely?” It was a lot to ask, but Azar needed reassurance that no one would die because of her, especially not Keenan.

  Bast nodded as he shushed her. “I'll do my best, but it won’t be necessary. I’m going to represent you at the Council trial, and there is no way I am going to let anything happen to you. You'll be out in a week to protect the human yourself. This is my solemn oath.”

  Azar smiled, but she was skeptical. Bast was a smooth talker, but she doubted anyone could get her out of her charges, considering they were both extremely true. The door to her cell opened and Mira stuck her head in to tell them that they had five more minutes. The smile she gave Bast was so warm and loving that Azar’s brow knitted.

  “What’s up with you and Mira? You look at each other like long lost lovers.” Azar really liked the tiny Marid woman bu
t it was obvious that she had a lot of feelings for Bast.

  “Mira and I were close friends a very long time ago. We spent a lot of time together, but we were never lovers. That was how I met Moselle. The affection I hold for Mira is different for the affection I hold for you, so you have no need to worry on that front.”

  There was a haunted look in his eyes, and Azar knew there was more to that story than he was letting on, but she let it go. The next time she saw him would probably be her trial, and she didn’t want to spend her last moments with him talking about Mira.

  Besides, she shouldn’t be jealous. If she was going to serve one hundred years of servitude, she didn’t expect Bast to wait around for her. He should be happy with someone, and the petite blond Marid would be a good match for him. At least he would be happy. She didn’t dare think about what would happen to Keenan. The best case scenario would be that he would move on, maybe eventually find a nice girl and get married and have children, before dying of old age. This would all happen before she had finished her servitude. The worst case scenario would be that she got her head chopped off in front of the Djinn Council and so did Keenan. She shook off the melancholy thought.

  She didn’t want to spend her last hours in the depths of self-pity and depression either.

  Azar turned on Bast’s lap so she was facing him and wrapped her legs around his waist. She kissed him passionately, her arms looping around his neck. She needed to feel the warmth of another person, to get lost in a kiss until nothing and no one mattered. This was the memory that she needed to get her through a hundred years of servitude; one of love and warmth. Bast returned her kiss, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist so her body was pressed flush against his. She let all her emotions pour out of her body and onto his lips.