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

by Grace McGinty

  The big scar on Becca’s cheek was healing, leaving a pink scar that was nearly perfect in its horror. Damn the girl for making a brand look like a fashion accessory.

  Needless to say, Azar was shocked when Becca, her archnemesis as Bast had put it, kneeled in front of her, chin raised.

  “I pledged my allegiance and loyalty to my Alpha, Azar Nazemi of the Ifrit. Her blood shall be my blood, and my life shall be hers.”

  There was a stunned silence in the room.

  “Well, fuck. I didn’t see that one coming,” Oliver neatly summed up. He was standing there gaping like a fish, and Azar had no idea what to do. Was this like knighting a person? Should she whack the girl on the shoulders with her spoon? Or did she have to nip her neck like Aaron had done to his competitor in the battle for Alpha. Becca was still kneeling there, throat bared, obviously expecting something. Her eyes were downcast from Azar’s out of respect for her Alpha, so she couldn’t judge whether this was what she wanted or if she was pressured into doing this by Lorcan.

  Christ, when did life get so hard?

  In the end, Azar tapped the girl’s carotenoid artery with her finger, threatening enough to soothe the wolf’s beast without violence.

  “I don’t know what exactly this means, but thanks, I think. I don’t want you to feel like you are tied to me though. Once this war is over, one way or another, you’re free to go where you like.”

  Becca raised her eyes to hers, her muddy brown irises reflecting hopelessness as she pointed to the A on her cheek. “Who would take me? I am not like the cat.” She pointed at Oliver like there was more than one big cat in her life. “I need a pack to survive. So for better or worse, you are my Alpha, unless you abnegate me as well.”

  Oliver scowled at the girl, and then kneeled in front of Azar.

  She cursed. “Dude, unless you are about to propose, you better get the hell off your knees.”

  The shithead just grinned. “I pledge my allegiance and my claws to Azar Nazemi of the Ifrit, her blood shall be my blood, and my life for hers.” He winked at me, “I couldn’t be outdone by a wolf. I have a reputation to maintain.”

  She was actually tempted to strangle the sweet asshole. Instead, she tapped her fingers to the pulse point on his neck, as she had done to Becca.

  Azar looked around the room, taking in all of its occupants. Becca and Oliver, her trans-species packmates. Lorcan, Commander of her very own army. Nevyn, her adopted Princeling and Demigod. Freya and Donovan, fellow mixed-blood abominations. Not forgetting the Green Man, Heart of the Freaking World. She just shook her head.

  “I’m going to lay down. Call me if the world is about to end.”

  She trudged into one of the cabin’s two bedrooms, flopped down onto the bed, and screamed into a pillow.

  Aaron called the next morning, asking if she could arrange a meeting between the Were and the Djinn. She called Killian, who penciled them in for the following day.

  Lorcan insisted on taking half his contingent of men with them to the meeting, for protection. He’d wanted to bring Nevyn and the entire battalion, but they’d agreed on splitting the group and leaving half behind to guard the kids, along with Donovan, Oliver and Becca.

  Oaths or not, it would take time for Azar to trust Becca enough to leave her alone. It wasn’t that she was worried that the girl would run off; Azar half hoped she would. But she wasn’t convinced that she wouldn’t steal Nevyn and give him back to the enemy Fae, for whatever patriotic reason she had. You could never trust an enemy that thought they were the hero.

  How everyone ended up in a private tea room of the Hilton though, that was a real mystery. It was almost like a bad joke. A Djinn, a Fae and a Werewolf walk into a bar. You think the werewolf would have ducked.

  Unfortunately, once Azar’s contingent had arrived, even leaving the Black Prince’s army outside, the private room was nearly jammed to capacity. There was Aaron, and Tao, who she assumed was the Alpha’s security. There were also four other Were who Azar didn’t recognize.

  There was Killian of course, and surprisingly Malee, but there were also several other Djinn in attendance, all of different races. Some races had one or two representatives.

  She gritted her teeth when her eyes rested on Lila the Bitch. She was Ghul; a hedonistic race that lived to glut themselves on dead flesh and blood licked from feet of mortals. Gross. And Lila was the worst. Spiteful, opportunistic and breathtakingly beautiful. A terrible combination. It was proof positive of the injustice of fate that she lived while so many good Djinn had died in the attacks. Azar briefly wondered if she could get Lorcan to kill the Barbie doll bitch. What’s the point of having an army if you couldn’t use them to smite your enemies?

  Luckily, Killian called the meeting to order before she could make a decision about putting out a hit on Lila.

  “Thank you for coming on such short notice. You all know why we’re here, so let’s dispense with the formalities. It is my belief, as Director of the Adel, and interim Commander in Chief of the Djinn people, that all citizens of the paranormal community need to unite to fight this unprecedented threat. I have talked to my contacts in Europe, and they tell me that the Fae are steadily pushing out their boundaries, subjugating the inhabitants of their new lands, either as serfs, or as servants. Mostly only small border villages with few inhabitants, but they are edging closer and closer to larger cities with established Djinn, and Were, populations. This situation is the most pressing issue facing not only the Djinn, but every member of the supernatural community. For if one of us falls, then we will all fall.”

  As expected, there was a cacophony of objections, arguments, general exclamations and yapping.

  Aaron boomed over the noise. “The United Packs of New York agree with the Director. Even banded together, we may not survive this war. Separated we are sure to lose everything. We pledge our sentinels and warriors to a coalition force. I have also approached the Alphas of other territories about sending their own forces.”

  The other Weres spoke amongst themselves. An older man, with a sharp hooked nose stood.

  “We agree with the young Alpha. We represent the other large groups of Were in New York. Birds, Cats, Bears and Equine.” She examined the man, trying to figure out which he was. Her money was on bird, based purely on the nose. Apparently, a man of few words, he sat back down beside Aaron.

  Lila stood up from the end of the table. Bast had been wrong about Becca being her archnemesis; Lila was definitely her archenemy. The Moriarty to Azar’s Holmes. The Joker to her Batman. The Burger King to her McDonalds. She hated the woman.

  “This is ridiculous. Why mount a defense if we can’t possibly win? These people,” she pointed to Jack and Lorcan who were sitting beside Azar, “can flash into any place they want, and kill us in stealth attacks. They never have to assemble an army. They can just kill us off group by group. We need to be negotiating a treaty, not planning a war. Even with all the animals in America, we couldn’t raise the numbers we need to defeat these Fae.” She gave Jack and Lorcan another dirty look, and Azar began to rise from her seat. No one insulted her friends, especially not this scavenger trash.

  Jack put a gentle hand on her forearm to stop her. She gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, I was just gonna blast the stupidity from the room.”

  Aaron laughed, and Lila sniffed.

  “Try it half-blood. Your daddy isn’t here to protect you now.”

  Lorcan stood, withdrawing his sword from its scabbard. “But I am and I promise you, I can eradicate you before you can draw your next breath, Ghul.” Everyone in the room tensed, and even Aaron looked poised for a fight.

  Killian slammed his hands down on the table.

  “Calm down. Everyone is allowed to voice an opinion here, no matter how distasteful.” Lila flushed, sitting, and Azar and Lorcan sat as well. “No one here wants to be a slave, Lila. No one. However, you do raise a good point about both their methods of attack and our numbers. Even with the Were community f
ighting beside us, we are vastly outnumbered.”

  “What’s our numbers?” someone asked.

  “The remaining Adel in North America is a hundred and twenty. Worldwide, perhaps six hundred. If we employ every able-bodied Djinn, we are looking at about two thousand, but most of those have no combat experience.”

  “I can gather around a hundred fighters from our ranks, but I won’t leave the dens completely vulnerable by removing every person able to fight,” Aaron added.

  “The Avian Were are not much help in a fight, but we have vast numbers to help with reconnaissance and scouting. We can supply four hundred of our guard. The other Were represented here can send maybe seventy or so, in total. We are not as numerous as the Wolves either.”

  Killian nodded his thanks, and scribbled on the notepad in front of him. “Is there a chance more of the Were will join us?”

  Aaron shrugged. “Perhaps. But most will elect to run and hide and try to wait it out.”

  Running and hiding was beginning to sound good to Azar.

  Lorcan spoke. “I have thirty in my guard, and they are at your disposal whilst ever Azar’s cause is your cause.”

  It was clear to everyone in the room where his loyalty lay, though most didn’t know the reason. Everyone knew that Azar had taken in a Fae child, though no one knew of Nevyn’s royal bloodline. Then Lorcan had turned up with a small battalion, and not even Killian knew why. Azar planned to keep it that way; no one needed to know what happened in the Amazon.

  “So you expect us to wage war with three hundred and twenty trained fighters, some birds and possibly a few thousand people to use as cannon fodder? This is your grand plan?” Derisiveness dripped from Lila’s lips like poison.

  Malee cleared her throat. “I might know of some extra support, if I can convince them to join.” Everyone stared at her expectantly. “The Unbound.”

  “Excuse me? Who invited the other half-blood? One is enough,” Lila spat.

  Malee ignored her. “The Unbound. Those with less than half Djinn blood.”

  “You want us to pad our numbers with near mortals? You are out of your weak blooded mind, Malee.” Apparently, Lila had been elected mouthpiece for the dissenters. Great.

  “Most of them are trained in combat, so they’re able to defend themselves against the Adel should they ever be found and an eradication ordered. There are a few half-bloods in the mix too,” she explained and there was a grumble around the room. The Djinn didn’t respond well to half-bloods shirking their servitude. Azar knew this first hand.

  “Oh I’m sorry, not just near mortals, but deserters too,” Lila returned, her face a vicious smirk. But Malee was used to sparring with more powerful foe than Lila.

  “Djinn society deserted them first. Sorry they didn’t come running back from the gutter to volunteer to work until they die.” The sarcasm was strong with Malee. Azar loved that about her sister.

  “These Unbound, they’ll fight if we ask?” Killian seemed skeptical, and rightly so. If Azar had been kicked around by the Djinn her whole life, she’d tell them where to stuff their request for help.

  “Maybe. It can’t hurt to ask. Maybe I’ll take Azar. She’s somewhat of a poster girl for the group.”

  Seriously?

  Considering she was still serving her Council ordained servitude on the Adel, they needed better role models.

  Chapter 6

  She rode in the front seat of Malee’s mini cooper. She’d left Jack and Lorcan behind, much to the latter’s protest. He was determined to protect her, but she didn’t need protecting twenty-four seven. Plus turning up to a secret hideout with half a team of highly trained Fae would probably send the wrong message. Malee had assured them of Azar’s safety, but Lorcan hadn’t been overly impressed. She’d felt like throwing a fireball at his head.

  They’d left the city limits, and the Range Rovers were being replaced by pickups. Soon, they were in what appeared to be farmland on the outskirts of Stillwater, New Jersey. Malee turned onto a dirt road, over a grate, and past several cows that stopped chewing to stare at the interlopers. Azar waved, but they continued to stare at her with those huge, beady eyes. Ugh.

  “What’s with the cows?”

  Malee shrugged. “This place operates as a corn farm. It gives the group money, cover and a lot of space away from prying eyes.”

  Well, she would never have thought to look for a group of fugitive Djinn in the middle of nowhere, shucking corn for dimes. When Malee had said they were an underground group, she’d actually expected them to be underground. Or at least in some dingy New York warehouse. She definitely hadn’t expected this.

  They pulled up to a ranch house, a huge sprawling building with big glass windows. The Kittatinny Mountains were the perfect backdrop, and the air was clear and crisp. It was beautiful.

  A man and woman came down the stairs, both dressed in worn denim jeans and check shirts. The woman had a bright red padded vest over rolled up sleeves.

  Malee got out of the car, smiling widely. She hugged them both, and Azar trailed behind her awkwardly.

  “This is Mavis and Vincent Burke. They started the refuge a hundred and fifty years ago. This is my half-sister, Azar.”

  Mavis stepped forward and hugged her. Azar tried her best not to be awkward, but she thought perhaps she was failing.

  “Azar, it is a pleasure to meet you finally. We have heard a lot about you, from Malee and through the grapevine. What you did for that little Shaitan girl, getting us all some immunity, well, we couldn’t be more grateful.”

  “It was nothing. Malee deserves the praise. She was great.” Azar shifted from foot to foot.

  Vincent Burke shook her hand hard, a firm, dry shake that matched his serious demeanor.

  “Come in. We’ll have coffee. Mavis makes a great coffee bundt.” Azar followed behind the couple, who looked in their late sixties but were obviously much, much older.

  The ranch house was immaculate, and they led them into a huge kitchen, a large marble island with a crystal vase of tulips on the counter that took up the majority of the floor space. A cake sat in an ornate cake stand. The whole space looked like it was straight out of a country living magazine.

  Mavis fussed, making sure everyone had the perfect cup of coffee and a slab of cake before they all sat down.

  “So, what can we do for the Djinn?” Mavis said, her face losing its softness. Gone was the grandmotherly feeling, and in its place was a fierce intensity.

  “You have heard about the attack, of course?”

  “Yes. We are sorry about the death of your father,” Mavis said sadly, petting Malee’s hand when she let out a little sniff.

  “Thank you. The Djinn, the Weres of New York, and a group of Fae rebels are banding together to fight this threat. But we are hopelessly outnumbered. We were hoping we could get some support from the Unbound.”

  “We thank you for the title too. It’s better than being called trash,” Vincent’s voice was gruff. They both sat in silence, the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the entry hall pounding like a bass drum.

  Finally, Vincent cleared his throat. “Did Malee tell you why we opened this place, this sanctuary?” At the shake of my head, he continued. “Both Mavis and I are half-bloods. Mavis is Sila/Human, and I am Marid/human. We were the offspring of the first wave of Djinn copulating with humanity. We were watched, studied closely for decades, and tested against our full blood siblings. When the time came for the Anadari bracelets to be placed on our wrists, we stepped forward for our servitude willingly. We didn’t know each other then, but we were in the same group of newly adult Djinn. To hear Mavis tell it, we saw each other across the room, and it was love at first sight. I won’t argue. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on, and her heart, well you could see her humanity shining in her eyes. During that week, I courted Mavis and promised that when we were done, we would be together. The Servitude was non-negotiable back then, you know.” The softness in his face suddenly
hardened. Azar could see the power building behind his eyes. “They gave her servitude as the handmaiden to the Troll King. When she came back after nine months, the humanity had burned out of her eyes, and our child had swollen her belly. Babies were a blessing in Djinn culture back then; we’d been growing more infertile for hundreds of years until children were so scarce and we were forced to cross-breed with humans.

  “The baby was born, and he was beautiful. So beautiful. Nothing like the abominations they tell you about when two races cross breed. But he had no slave mark. Hell, he could have been a species all of his own. When the Councilors found out, they came into our house and looked at him, our beautiful son, and announced him an aberration. They…” he shuddered, and swallowed hard at the memory. “Then they took his body and left. Just like that.”

  A tear trickled down Mavis’ cheek at the memory, and she reached over to lace her fingers in Vincent’s. Fortified by the strength of his wife, he continued. “We continued with our servitude. We had no choice. As soon as our hundred years were up, we ran. We left behind the society that we abhorred, the families that didn’t support us, and we came to the New World. We had more children after that, six in total, and raised them in secret. Every single one of them was perfect. They grew older and left, immersing themselves in the human world, hiding their abilities.” Finally, a smile crept onto his face as he thought of his surviving children.

  “But we looked at our empty house, and it was haunted by the memory of our beloved firstborn son. We decided that something needed to be done to help people who were in situations such as ours. We could give them a choice, a way to live. We whispered into the ears of people we trusted, telling them that there was a safe haven for these children, where they could be loved and protected. We would help them learn to control their abilities and train them how to hide in plain sight within the human world. We’ve raised hundreds, if not thousands of children over the last hundred and fifty years. But we also got strays; the half-bloods who didn’t want to spend their entire lives in servitude, those who feared the Djinn and their prejudices. We hid them until we were sure that no one was looking for them. Hell, some never wanted to leave, and have lived out their lives on this farm, helping our cause.”