Jack had returned sometime in the wee hours of the morning, and had offered to watch the prisoners, as he didn't need sleep. She had politely declined. She knew that if by some freak of nature they broke the Jann trance and tried to stab her and Danian in their sleep, he would be powerless to prevent it. As long as they intended to eat them, of course. So she’d remained awake and kept a polite distance between herself and Jack, until Danian took over and she excused herself to get some sleep.
Azar crawled onto the bed and shut her eyes. She was almost instantly bombarded by images. She was in her oasis, and Bast had her in a hard embrace. He squeezed her so hard that she thought her metaphysical spine might break.
"I was so fucking worried. Word filtered in that there had been a Were attack and someone was critically injured, but they couldn’t tell me who, and Killian was fucking unreachable." The words tumbled out in the space of a single breath.
Azar had never heard so many expletives pass over his lips. She rubbed his back reassuringly.
"I'm fine. It was Lida; they caught her off guard. Mira took her to the Vancouver compound." She looked around her oasis. It wasn't quite as concrete as usual. There was no wind, and everything seemed a little two dimensional. "I can't believe we can still come here now that you are in Stuttgart. I didn't realize your reception reached that far," she teased.
After the traumas of the day, being in his arms felt good. He let out a relieved breath and sat them down on the sand dune. She couldn’t see the individual grains of sand like she normally could.
"We are connected; I could reach you anywhere. Just the quality of the Oasis is affected. I can teach you to control what you see in the Oasis if you like. Just think about your heart’s desire, and the Oasis will respond. I am merely the projector, you control the film."
He kissed her like he needed her more than his next breath. Before she knew it, her clothes were gone and she was straddling Bast’s hips. "I just need to see you," he growled.
His hands roamed every inch of her skin, assessing her. Branding her. He sat up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her chest pressed against hers. He kissed her neck and collarbone, his arms wrapped around her back. She just closed her eyes and gave over to the sensation, giving them both what they wanted. He loosened his grip and leaned her back, his hot breath running down between her breasts. He kissed his way back up her body and lifted her hips up. She kissed his jaw, nuzzling her face into his neck.
Just before he pushed his way into her aching flesh, and her eyes closed involuntarily from the pure bliss, she could have sworn she saw Jack in her oasis.
Chapter 10
The trip to the airport the next morning was uncomfortable to say the least. They'd piled all the Were prisoners into the back of Jack's beat up old truck, and tried to avoid using the main roads where the humans would see. A truck bed full of barely dressed humans would raise a fair amount of suspicion. Luckily, it was early and still dark, the locals were still hiding from the cold night air in their soft warm beds.
Danian sat in the truck bed with the Weres and Azar rode in the cabin with Jack. One of the younger Were girls was sandwiched between them on the bench seat. Azar had studiously been avoiding eye contact since last night’s events. But she'd learned something very valuable about Bast's gift. Apparently, he didn't automatically know what was in her oasis, unless he could actually see it for himself. Just because he created the oasis, didn't give him omnipotent knowledge of every rock, tree and leaf. Or person. She was pretty sure he'd have something to say about another man being there. She felt like an idiot.
Seeing Jack in her oasis, while she was making love to Bast meant nothing. The dance had just worked her up, and put Jack in the forefront of her mind. That was all. She nodded to herself, and put the matter to rest.
The airport was no more than a clearing of trees, and a huge army carrier helicopter landed in the space at exactly 0600, sending debris flying around. She looked at the aircraft skeptically, as a pilot jumped out and told them to load up all the Weres.
"Are you sure we are all going to fit?" she asked, and got an unimpressed look in return. Well, the idea of falling out of the sky made her hesitant, so he could think her stupid as much as he liked.
She and Danian started loading the Weres into the helicarrier one by one. They were actually very biddable in their fugue state. She'd even gotten kind of fond of some of the Weres during her babysitting duties. She'd named them, like she would puppies, and some of the names had stuck, even with Danian.
"Can you give Sparkles a bit of a boost?" Danian yelled down over the rotor noise. Sparkles was one of the diminutive Werebirds, and she was a tiny little thing, shorter than even Mira. Azar had given her the nickname Sparkles, because whatever her Oasis was, it made her pretty blue eyes sparkle with glee.
Last, but not least, was Princess Fifi, a 6’3 rough looking guy, who she thought might have been the Werebear. He looked mean, even in his blissed out state, scars riddling his body from years of fighting. Mean or not, he boarded the plane docilely, so she and Jack were left on the ground. Jack gave her a lift into the helicopter, and she squashed down the little thrill that went through her as his big hands curled around her waist.
He slid the door shut as he boarded behind her and took the seat next to hers. The seats lined either side of the helicopter, a small aisle in between. They were definitely at capacity; she was jammed between Princess Fifi and Jack. Her heart lurched as the chopper left the ground, and she counted down the minutes until they landed. Jack must have been able to feel her tension, because he put a comforting hand on her knee, and a wave of calm washed through her body, even as her heart sped at his touch. It must have been one of his gifts, because he had laid a calming hand on her when she was patching up the Were boy as well. She gave him a tight smile, and he removed his hand. It was going to be a long trip.
The pilot told her, through a headphone contraption, that they were going to fly to the compound in Vancouver, and then board a private plane to New York City. Apparently, someone had paid off a customs guy not to notice the twenty-seven comatose people on the plane with them.
They were in Vancouver quicker than she thought possible, and the transfer from chopper to plane went smoothly. Azar breathed a bit easier on the plush private plane. The seats were huge and leather, and she sat up the back next to Sparkles. Jack was right down the other end of the plane talking to Danian. She closed her eyes on the flight, and surprised herself by going to sleep.
She woke when they made a rough landing into JFK and she resisted the urge to kiss the tarmac when they alighted in the private hanger. She'd missed her city, no matter how beautiful the Canadian wilderness had been. She'd missed the smog, the constant buzz of noise and even the suffocating crush of people that lined the city streets.
A squad of Adel met them on the tarmac, and loaded the captive Weres into an armored bus. Danian went with them so he could remove them from their trances once they were secure. Although he said any Jann could remove it, he explained it was like trying to untie a knot that someone else had tied. It was just easier if he did it himself.
Another black SUV pulled up for her and Jack. Azar was surprised to see Joia behind the wheel. Jack still carried Ibsali somewhere on his person, but it was camouflaged to the naked eye.
Joia strode around the front of the hood with her normal purposeful stride. She thrust her hand out to Jack, and gave him a firm handshake.
"It is an honor to welcome you to New York City. The Council is convening at our headquarters here, as you requested, but it will take a couple of days for them all to arrive. An audience has been tentatively scheduled for three days time."
Jack nodded agreeably. Azar was fairly sure he did most things agreeably, from growing seedlings to hauling decapitated bodies. "Until then, I can take you to a hotel at the Council’s expense or the Director has offered you our most deluxe suite at the Adel compound. It's entirely up to you."
She had n
ever heard Joia be this polite to anyone, not even Killian, who was her boss. The feisty Sila must be very aware of the fact that Jack held Ibsali to sweeten her usually sour demeanor this much.
Jack’s response was lost to the breeze as she tossed her duffel in the back of the SUV. She hesitated, unsure before she walked back around to the passenger seat. She told herself she was sitting up front so Jack had room to spread out in the back, plus it was the proper place for her as a member of the Adel. It was not because she didn’t want to be in the back seat next to Jack. The Queen of Denial, everybody, her inner voice taunted.
Jack must have chosen to stay at the compound, because they crawled along in the traffic towards the Adel HQ. She wasn't worried that they'd be staying in the same place. Quite frankly, her neurosis hadn’t gone that far yet. The private chambers for the Councilors and their guests were on the floor below the Adel barracks. She was sure her clearance level didn’t even allow her to stop at that floor in the elevator.
The trip was blissfully silent, and by the time they were driving down into the underground car park, she was unsuccessfully trying to stifle a yawn. She longed for her bed, in her crappy little dorm room. Thankfully, Joia dismissed her as soon as they got to the elevators, and Azar didn’t protest. Jack squeezed her shoulder and gave her a warm smile.
Azar threw a guilty look between them. She didn’t think Jack was going to break millennium long tradition of nonviolence to kill one reasonably insignificant Sila Adel. But she did think that it was brave of Joia to be alone with the man who could so easily place his hand on Ibsali. But Joia was fast, well trained, and had huge brass balls. She’d be fine.
She waved goodbye to Jack and shuffled out of the elevator. Her eyelids felt like lead, and it took her two failed tries before she could put her key into the lock on her door. Eventually, she got it in the hole and stumbled through the doorway, falling face first onto the bed after two steps. She kicked the door closed with her booted foot, and let the encompassing blackness take her.
Someone was nibbling on her ear in the blackness of sleep.
"Not tonight, Bast. I’m exhausted. I don't want to play in the oasis," she grumbled and rolled over. “How about we just snuggle and go back to sleep.” A hand ran up her side and warm breath tickled her ear.
"We aren't in your oasis, Jaaneman."
It took a moment for Azar to process that statement, and then her eyes shot open. Bast’s smiling face was leaning over her, right there in her tiny little dorm room. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her, squeezing him tight. He rolled his considerable weight off her.
"It’s so good to see you too, in the flesh." His saucy grin made his eyes sparkle. His arm snaked possessively around her hip, and she nuzzled into his chest. "The Sila Councilor arrived to see your green friend and brought me in her entourage." There was something off about his tone, but Azar ignored it. There was time to sort out any problems later. Right now she just wanted to be in his arms. She snuggled down into the warmth of his body.
He kissed the top of her head and sighed happily. "Tell me everything."
Azar recounted the trip to Hearnes Creek, omitting the dance with Jack. Bast told her that Lida was still recovering in Vancouver, but he'd heard her prognosis was good.
She told him that Lida threatened to kill her as soon as she got a chance, and his face closed down into a scarily cold mask. "I’m going to see Lila and straighten this out now." He went to move off the bed, but she smiled and held onto his arm. As much as she wanted to see Bast scare the smugness right out of Lila and her prissy half-sister, she wanted him with her more.
"It can wait, we have plenty of time."
Her happiness faltered when Bast’s face shut down into its neutral mask. That was never good.
"We have to talk." Her heart stuttered in her chest at his words. He sat on the bed next to her, and wrapped her hand in his. "The Sila Councilor has requested me for her personal bodyguard for the next fifty years, in Stuttgart. I can't deny this request, and neither can the Adel."
Azar felt like she'd been hit in the gut with a baseball bat, and now she was seeing ACME stars. Everything was slow to process. Bast, in Europe, while she was here, in NYC. They wouldn't have their fifty years together. The only silver lining to her servitude was the man lying next to her, and now if felt as if it was being torn away.
On the heels of the dazed feeling however, was raw anger. It had to be Killian who suggested this. They'd all been drifting along fine until he showed up. Now, Bast was being shipped off to Europe to be that old Sila’s personal boy toy? Azar didn't believe in coincidences like that.
"That son of a bitch!" She leapt off the bed, ignoring her crazed look in the mirror, and Bast's confused face.
She slammed out of her room, and down the hall to the elevator. She jammed the button for the elevator, but it wasn’t coming fast enough to satisfy her rage. She opened the stairwell door and took the stairs two at a time to the lower floor, and the Control Room. She barely registered the people moving out of her way, or the fact that her hands had lit up like a Fourth of July bonfire. All she could think of was that she was going to spend the next fifty years alone, among strangers, people who looked down on her, or outright despised her like the Ghul. She would have no one left in her corner.
She slammed through the doors of the control room and her eyes shot straight to Killian sitting at the head of the conference table. People gasped around the room, and leapt to their feet but they were too slow. She threw a fireball at Killian's shocked face. He quickly lifted his hand, extinguishing the flame instantly. As soon as the flame made contact with Killian's hands however, the slave cuffs around her wrists constricted, and Azar screamed.
Blood spilled where the cuffs cut into her skin, and Killian was around the table instantly, concern on his face even though she'd just tried to take off his head with a fireball.
"You stupid little fool! What the hell is wrong with you? You can't try to kill your master, no matter how ineffective the method may have been. The Anadari Bracelets will remove your hands as punishment!"
Azar could barely hear him as she screamed, the cuff bracelets crushing the bones in her wrists. A discombobulated part of her mind thought that they should have a handbook for Anadari Bracelets, because that would have been good information to know before she'd tried to rage maim her brother.
"Make it stop!" she screamed.
Killian put both his hands around one bracelet and whispered something in the old tongue. Instantly, the bracelet relaxed its grip on her wrist, and blood rushed back to her hand.
Her wrist had huge gashes, and blood ran down her arm as she clutched it to her chest. He whispered to the other bracelet, and it loosened also. The pain was still unimaginable, her wrists felt like they’d been smashed by a sledge hammer and she dropped to the floor, moaning. The bones had definitely been crushed.
Killian picked her up like a child, his face stoic. Azar's pain-hazed gaze took in the room, which only held a few people thank goodness. But every one of those faces contained shocked horror at what just happened. She was unsure if it was witnessing the cruelty of the Anadari Bracelets, or the fact someone attacked the Director of the Adel and lived. Either way, she shut her eyes against their faces.
Bast was just outside the doors when they got out of the room.
"What the fuck happened?" His eyes went to her bleeding, twisted wrists.
"You tell me? She burst in the room and threw a fireball at my head!" Anger radiated from Killian. "Go back in there, and convince everyone that this incident is to stay in that room. Tell them it’s a direct order, and I'll be back to confirm it once I've dealt with the slave." His voice was pure contempt. "The last thing we need is for this insubordination to get back to a member of the Council while I'm out of the room. I don’t think even Saraf could prevent her head from rolling if they found out she tried to kill the Director of the Adel."
Bast barely nodded, casting
a pained look at Azar, and then at Killian, before turning to walk into the Control Room. Saraf, the Councilor for the Ifrit, and her father, had saved her from a death sentence once. She'd been so enraged in her tantrum, she hadn’t thought of it being considered treason. What an idiot.
Killian took her to one of the empty conference rooms and laid her on the table. His hands lit up, and he held her wrists again. The fire flowed into her wounds, knitting up the torn muscles and fractured bones. The stupidity of throwing a fireball at one of the strongest Ifrit warriors in history, sunk in. She wasn't prone to murderous rages, so maybe subconsciously she'd known that it wouldn't hurt him
"Are you going to explain what the hell that was?" He was looking at her wrists intently, checking how they’d healed. He bent them back and forth, rotating them and testing the muscles and tendons. It would be a shame to have to break them again.
“You're sending Bast away to Europe because he's a threat to your position. I'm going to be completely alone because you have some macho who's-dick-is-longer problem with Bast. The Ghul want me dead for some unknown reason, and the only person who has my back, the man that I love, will be halfway across the world with the same bitch Sila who coerced him back into the Adel in the first place. I bet this was her plan all along." Her eyes stung, but she was fairly sure it was from residual pain.
He gave her a disbelieving look. “So, let me get this straight. You almost got your hands amputated because you were chucking a teenageresque tantrum, due to someone, not me by the way, sending your boyfriend away? Newsflash Azar; this isn’t a Shakespearean play. He signed a binding contract with the Adel, and by extension the Council. They can do with him as they wish. Hell, if that 'bitch Sila' as you so eloquently put it, wanted me as a bodyguard, I'd be obliged to comply. This isn’t a grand scheme to separate you from your lover boy, at least not on my part.” He stood and stared down at her disapprovingly. She felt like a bug.
The Azar Omnibus: The Complete Azar Trilogy (The Azar Trilogy Book 0) Page 32