Angel Thief

by Jenny Schwartz

  “I can’t leave yet,” Sara said.

  He wouldn’t beg. Instead, he glared at Khan. “If you hurt her, I’ll rip your heart out.”

  “It seems your heart is the one bleeding, djinni.”

  Filip growled.

  Sara stepped in front of him, stopping his impulsive move to strike Khan. She put a hand on his shoulder, stretched up and kissed his cheek.

  He turned his face and snared her lips with his. He tasted her sweetness, the trace of salty tears. He let her taste his hunger and need.

  Against his lips, she gave him the reassurance he craved. “Filip.”

  Just his name, but it was a claiming and a commitment.

  “I’ll wait for you,” he said.

  “You’d better,” she threatened shakily.

  He nodded and strode out of the room with Jay trailing after him.

  ***

  Sara wrapped her arms around herself and listened to their fading footsteps. She felt the moment when they dematerialised and knew they were safe at Vince’s outback property. Filip had fulfilled Vince’s second wish.

  Somehow she would find a way to be with him despite Solomon’s curse.

  Khan swore, strode across the living room and opened a trunk under the window. He pulled out a gun and ammunition.

  “No,” she said.

  He ignored her. “I grew up fighting. I killed a man when I was fourteen. He would have beaten my sister, raped her probably, and do you know why? Because she knew how to read. A girl who could read and a bastard looking for a victim. Three years ago she died. A civilian victim of an air strike. She’d been teaching her own daughter to read.”

  He put the gun down and stared at his hands. “I dug out the rubble, dug out the bodies. I said to my wife, we must leave. My grandfather said I should go to Pakistan where he had friends. No, I said. We should go to the ends of the earth, somewhere safe.” He threw the gun against the wall. “Now I am the bully and my victim pities me.”

  “Jay has courage.” The girl had surprised Sara. The terrible night had matured Jay, tested her compassion and found her generosity. In terror, she’d shown strength.

  “That boy you were talking about,” Khan said abruptly. “My grandfather had a lime cure he used on amputees and people with bone infections. Most of his scholarship is gone, blown to the four winds, but I remember the cure. It is painful. He dosed the people first with opium.” He recited the cure, staring at the broken gun. “If you can save the boy, that will be something.”

  “And you?” The cure had arrived so strangely it felt unreal. She memorised it and put the memory aside. The more immediate problem was the life of the man in front of her. Vince Ablett would make him suffer.

  Khan pulled his knife from the sheath at his waist and crouched by the Persian carpet. He sliced the base of his thumb and let three drops of blood fall to stain the carpet.

  Sara was better with written than spoken words and it took her a moment to translate the Pashto words.

  “Consume the evil that enters.”

  If Vince entered with a demon taint in his heart, the magic of the Persian carpet would trap his soul.

  Sara closed her mouth on her protest. Who was she to deliver justice? What would be would be, and she discovered small sympathy for Vince, who ruined so many lives. She even felt a moment’s viciousness. Let Vince taste the prison Filip had suffered for centuries. She forced away her anger.

  “Where will you go?” she asked Khan.

  He glanced at her and his eyes were sharply assessing, memories and vengeance forgotten. “Will you take me there?”

  She realised he meant the dematerialisation Filip had used with Jay. Although she had never carried a human, technically it was possible. She nodded. “Where?”

  “Afghanistan.” He looked down at his hands. The bleeding had stopped, but there were other scars. “You and Jay remind me that there are children who need saving. My son is lost. But I have memories of my grandfather’s teachings to help others, and I have my hands and my strength.”

  Tears stung her eyes. Khan was on the path to healing himself.

  She held out her hand. His clasp was callused and careful of her.

  “The djinni loves you.”

  She glanced at him, surprised not at Filip’s love but that Khan commented.

  His smile twisted. “I envy him the courage to love while Solomon’s curse still traps him. I won’t risk my heart again.”

  In time you will. There was too much passion in Khan for him to live without love. His grief would heal, never forgotten but allowing room for new loves.

  “At least you won’t look back with regret that you hurt Jay.”

  “I hurt your djinni.”

  “Yes.” The memory of Filip’s pain burned through her. But it had also torn away their defences, compassion and need opening them to one another. It had hastened their coming together.

  Khan met her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  She nodded. Filip’s suffering was private. She changed the subject. “We need to go outside. You can’t travel through walls.”

  She led the way out of the house and into the predawn chill of the backyard. With no walls or roofs in the way, she closed her eyes and concentrated on dematerialising and the geography of Afghanistan.

  For a moment she felt Khan’s physical body anchor her to the quiet Australian suburbs. Then the ground shook beneath her feet. The vibration travelled along her bones. The suburbs vanished into swirling dust.

  They rematerialised on a night-dark mountain near a village. It was a landscape of bare rock and poverty. Above them stars and spy satellites circled. This was a war zone, a place of pride and violence and scrabbled survival.

  “Thank you.” Khan breathed deeply. “Thank you for bringing me home.” He strode away and the shadows of the village swallowed him.

  Sara sniffled.

  Andrew handed her a tissue.

  She jumped, dislodging a fistful of stones that rattled down the rocky slope. The other angel had appeared silently, unexpectedly.

  “What are you doing here?” She overrode her own question urgently as memory nudged. “I have a cure for young Todd. A cure for his bone infection.”

  Todd’s guardian angel leaned on his sword, looking across the valley at a pinprick of lamplight. “Todd died an hour ago.”

  There was a moment’s silence, then Sara swore. Too much pain, too much grief. At every turn life demanded courage, tested your hope and faith.

  Andrew handed her another tissue.

  She blew her nose. “Is that why you’re here, to tell me about Todd?”

  “No. I’m Khan’s guardian angel. I’m here to give thanks for his safe return.”

  “Tangled lives.” Sara stared at the stars, willing away her tears. She’d failed Todd. “I didn’t know you knew Khan.”

  “For good or bad we all affect one another.” Andrew leaned forward and kissed her forehead. It was quite a gesture from a reserved soldier. “Go back to your djinni, Sara. He needs you.”

  Chapter Eight

  Filip needed her?

  Sara didn’t stop to ask Andrew questions—not that he’d have answered them. Imagine being so close-mouthed that she hadn’t even known he was Khan’s guardian angel? There hadn’t been a hint of his presence when Khan tortured Filip or when Filip threatened to kill Khan. Andrew had the discipline—and ruthlessness—to let his charges live with the consequences of their decisions.

  But Todd hadn’t chosen to have an accident and to suffer the agony of broken bones and infection and their treatment.

  That little boy. So brave and so young. How were his family? How did you survive losing someone you loved?

  Her heart clenched. If Filip was hurt, died…

  The world whipped past Sara and she landed with a jolt at the billabong. She staggered and grabbed at a low-hanging gum tree branch. Her left foot slipped on the gravel but she managed to bring herself to a stop an inch from the water.

  S
he glanced around, but instinct had led her wrong. Filip wasn’t here. The billabong was cold and dark, the water still. Around her the desert spread out, silently waiting for dawn.

  “Idiot.” Sara let go of the branch. Filip wouldn’t have brought Jay here. She’d be in Vince’s house. Not that her father would be there to meet her or reassure her with a hug. He was flying to Melbourne, intent on killing Khan.

  Sara was pleased to think Vince would be disappointed. Afghanistan wasn’t safe, but Khan would have the advantage of home ground if Vince held onto his grudge and sent thugs after him.

  But why had Andrew said Filip needed her?

  She whisked herself into Vince’s house and received a shock.

  Vince was at home.

  ***

  “How long does it take to rescue one girl?” Vince raged at Filip. His grey hair stood up in angry spikes. He wore a blue shirt with black trousers, and a discarded jacket hung over a library chair. He ignored his daughter.

  Jay clung to Filip’s hand a minute before retreating to a wingback chair and curling into its shadows.

  “Never mind.” Vince dismissed his daughter and her rescue. “I decided to have Khan brought to me here, rather than hunt him in Melbourne.”

  Filip understood. If Vince flew to Melbourne, he’d have been following Khan’s orders. Even the hint of such a suggestion would give the man indigestion. Having Khan brought to him underlined their respective power. Filip hoped like hell that Sara got out first. When Vince’s hired muscle arrived, there would be a bloodbath because Khan wouldn’t go quietly.

  “Khan’s gone.” Sara blinked into sight. She stood beside Filip and he had to resist putting an arm around her. It was dangerous to parade your vulnerabilities to Vince—and love did make you vulnerable.

  Knowledge that he loved Sara slid into Filip’s mind as unstoppably as a tidal wave. It was just there, a fact of life. When he saw her, his heart beat faster, his skin came alive to her touch. She brought him joy.

  He breathed in the scent that was pure Sara.

  “That bastard doesn’t deserve angel protection,” Vince spat.

  “Nor do you.” Jay uncurled from her chair. She stopped a step from Sara and glared at her father. “You order around a djinni like he’s a slave. I’m glad Khan escaped. I’m glad.”

  Vince raised his hand.

  Jay tipped her chin, daring him to slap her.

  Don’t try it, Vince. He felt Sara tense beside him. He guessed they both felt responsible for Jay.

  “You slut.” Vince’s fingers curled into a fist. “Like your mum. Did you sleep with Khan? Is that how he caught you?”

  “No! And Mum wouldn’t sleep around if you showed her some love, some decent human kindness. But I don’t think you’re capable of it. Khan’s family died on your boat. He lost his wife and son. Your smugglers can’t even keep people alive.”

  Vince lowered his hand. “I’ve dealt with them.”

  “More killings?” Jay challenged. She was shaking.

  “I sacked them.” Vince paused. “How did Khan catch you? I don’t want it happening again.”

  “I was leaving the library. It was dark. I’d been studying.” She stressed the last word.

  “All right,” Vince conceded. Belatedly, he asked. “Did Khan hurt you?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then when the plane returns it will fly you back to Melbourne. Someone will follow you for a few weeks, until I’m sure you’re safe.”

  “Do you care, Dad? Do you care about me or just that someone dared to take what was yours?”

  “Of course I care.” He cast a quick embarrassed glance at Filip and Sara. “You’re my daughter. Look, you’re upset. Go to your room, sleep. Everything will look better in the morning.”

  “Dad—” But her mouth wobbled, choking further words. Jay rubbed her eyes.

  Vince patted her on the shoulder, awkward in the role of carer. There was no doubt though that he directed her to the door. He wanted Jay gone and his world back to normal.

  She hesitated, then went obediently.

  “Now, angel.” Vince made a swift return to business, his voice harsh to discount any earlier hint of softness. “Where has Khan gone?”

  “That’s his business.” Sara looked beyond Vince to Jay, who had turned in the doorway. She smiled. “He’s safe.”

  Vince’s eyes narrowed. He scowled at Sara, then Filip.

  Filip bared his teeth in an unamiable smile. “Want me to kill Khan?”

  He felt Sara stiffen beside him. Stay quiet. He knew how to handle men like Vince. His challenge would remind him that killing Khan would be a waste of his third and final djinni wish.

  Sara stayed silent, but she glared at Filip.

  Jay didn’t stay silent. She erupted back into the library. “I thought you were a good guy.” She’d been betrayed at every turn, threatened, hurt, forced to grow up. Now her anger found a focus. Palms against his chest, she pushed Filip.

  He didn’t move. Poor kid. He looked over her head at Vince. A shudder went through Filip. Vince wasn’t watching his daughter. He was assessing Sara.

  “Sssh.” Filip gripped Jay’s shoulders, holding her still. Danger hung in the air.

  Sara, concerned for Jay, hadn’t seen it. Filip, his heart given to Sara, could sense it.

  Vince had had his tail twisted too often tonight. He’d need to prove his power.

  “Djinni, my third wish—” Vince pulled the djinni bottle from the pocket of his discarded jacket.

  “Get the hell out of here,” Filip said to Sara.

  She blinked up at him, shocked and unaware. And damn her, she didn’t vanish.

  “Djinni, hold the angel here.” Vince used his last wish.

  Filip’s control cracked. For centuries he’d been bound to human whims. He’d endured, turned inward, developed survival strategies of manipulation and ironic detachment. But the same fate for Sara was unimaginable. Even though Vince’s wishes would fail at the end of his life, she faced years of imprisonment.

  Sara turned to Filip and smiled. “We’ll be together.”

  “I’ll be damned first,” he swore and lunged for Vince.

  ***

  As Filip’s hands closed around Vince’s throat, Jay scrambled to her feet. His deadly lunge had knocked her over.

  The horrid sounds of a man losing air and life rasped in the room.

  “Filip, no!” Sara cried.

  Jay dove for her father’s feet and picked up Filip’s djinni bottle. “Don’t kill him,” she gasped.

  Filip’s strong fingers tensed, shook and locked open. He directed a murderous look at Jay. She shrank back from him.

  Vince dropped choking to his knees.

  “I couldn’t let you kill Dad.”

  “He ordered me to imprison Sara.” By his voice, Filip made it an unspeakable crime.

  “I know.” Jay hugged the djinni bottle. “And I’m sorry. I—It’s my second wish. Let her go free.”

  Sara didn’t feel any different. After all, it wasn’t as if Filip could have held her against a legion of guardian angels—a fact he seemed to have forgotten in his rage.

  On the other hand, he would always hold her. She loved him and her love bound her to him more securely than any magic or curse of Solomon’s devising.

  The fire died out of Filip’s eyes. His face lost its terrifying wildness. He reached behind him and clasped Sara’s hand. “Thank you, Jay.”

  Her tearful expression wavered into a smile.

  On the floor, Vince grabbed the arm of a chair and hauled himself upright. His eyes fixed on Filip. “Jay, give me the bottle.”

  She shuffled out of reach. “You’ve used up your wishes. I have one left.”

  “Then wish the djinni to his comrades in hell.”

  “No!” Sara started forward.

  Filip swung her back, tight against him. She looked up at him, then followed his gaze to Jay.

  The girl looked from Vince to where Sara and
Filip stood together.

  “Filip, I wish you free.” She threw the djinni bottle on the floor and it shattered against the hardwood. Sapphire blue glass glittered bright and sharp.

  “You stupid girl! What did you do that for? How could you let them go free?” Vince shouted.

  “Because she has the courage of a lion and the compassion of an angel. Because she is your daughter in strength, and her own person in honour,” Filip said.

  Sara hugged Jay. “Thank you.”

  Jay returned her hug before drawing back to face her father. “I’m going back to Melbourne. I’ll become a doctor, with or without your support. I can’t change who you are or how you live your life. I disapprove. I hate it. But I’ll always be your daughter. I just hope…I’d like to go to Afghanistan with you one day. I want to see what Khan was escaping and why people are desperate enough to trust you. I’d like to help them.”

  Vince sat down heavily on a sofa. “God, you sound like Mum.”

  “Grandma?”

  “A very bossy woman. We’re all lucky she’s dead.” Vince wiped his face with a handkerchief. “All right. You become a doctor and I’ll take you to Afghanistan.”

  It was a concession to far more. It was an acceptance of Jay’s independence.

  She burst into tears. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Sara squeezed her shoulder, but her attention was on Filip. Jay had just given them a miracle. “You’re free.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Is it a problem that I’m free?” Filip raised a quizzical eyebrow.

  “Idiot. No!” Sara leaped on him.

  His laughter rang out, rich and deep, full of joy. They dematerialised in the midst of the sound and rematerialised in the hunger of kisses.

  It was minutes before Sara blinked her eyes open and saw their new surroundings.

  An enormous bank of windows let in the glory of the rising sun breaking across the white curling waves of the Gold Coast. Closer at hand, a sinfully large bed tempted.

  “A hotel?”

  Filip paused a breath in his ear nibbling. “It was the largest bed I could find.”

  Sara laughed, then gasped as he picked her up and tossed her onto the bed. He followed her down and she welcomed him fiercely, wrapping arms and legs around him and rolling on top. She looked down into his eyes, warm and loving. “Got you.”