by Anne Marsh
“Revenge.” His hands knead my flesh. “I might not have loved the beautiful little bitch, but I was fond of Pho in my own way. We were partners—so letting an Ifrit lord get away with her death is unacceptable. The lord pays, even if it takes everything I have and then some.”
I gasp as he tightens his arm around my throat. Jafar had better be close, because I call down the moon as if I’m opening a tap. At first just a small thread of light and then more, rushing faster as the bright strands pour from the sky. Clearly knowing me all too well, Lierr tightens his grasp on me. I’d leave him behind if I could. He’s always admired my stubbornness; it’s one of the many qualities that makes me an excellent thief.
“Too bad I have to break you now,” he whispers against my ear. “I considered giving you the independence you’ve coveted for so long; we really are kindred spirits. But revenge is—when you get right down to it—revenge. I can’t release you and have my revenge, so I’m choosing revenge and, afterwards, I’ll claim whatever’s left of you.”
Again, he speaks in the language of Qaf, reciting the spell that will direct the opening of the Doorway to form a portal between our world and his own.
A glow springs up about me and, just like that, a Doorway shimmers into existence. Through the hazy surface, I can make out the familiar outlines of Qaf. Lierr’s home, even if his fellow Qaf dwellers had done their level best to wash their hands of him years ago.
He’s going back.
I twist in his hold.
“Done,” I spit. “That’s the end of our deal. Let me go now, Lierr, or I let the Doorway close.”
He looks down at me, smoothing an errant lock of hair behind my ear. “Let the Doorway close,” he says pleasantly, “and you’ll regret it. I’ll simply make you reopen it. After.” Since my fingers twitch on the stones, I’m sure it’s obvious that I understand the implications of his threat.
“Bastard,” I accuse. “You’ve got what you wanted.”
“And now I should let you go?” His eyes sweep regretfully over my face. “It really is a pity to take you to Qaf, but without you I won’t be able to reopen the Doorway on my own. I’ll be trapped there, until I find a Caller willing to overlook my very unfortunate status with the Qaf council. Since I doubt I’ll find such a Caller—the council keeps very close tabs on them for a reason—you can see why I’m not going to run the chance of losing you.”
“Yeah.” I glare up at him. “Thought you were a man of honor, Lierr. We had a deal. You’re bending the rules and trying my patience.”
Of course all he does is pull me toward the Doorway.
“A man of honor.” When I dig my feet in, he simply scoops me up and strides toward the dark, waiting shadow separating this realm from Qaf. “You’re forgetting, my dear. I’m no man.”
I hiss something extremely uncomplimentary about his parentage. My accusations could actually be true, for all I know; it’s certainly true that most Ifrits are hardly discriminating in their choice of sexual partners.
“I’m an Ifrit.” When he says it, it makes everything seem so much more real. He’s succeeded. He’s going home. And he’s—finally—going to have his revenge. Over my dead body. He closes the distance between us and the Doorway. Gritting his teeth, he pushes his leg through the thick, dark curtain of air as if the sensation is painful.
“Ifrit bastard,” I growl, fighting against his hold. I smash my hands up toward his unprotected throat and he snarls, wrapping his right hand around my throat and seeking for the pressure points that will incapacitate me. And damn it, he finds them.
The last thing that I hear, before darkness takes me, is his mocking “Sweet dreams, little thief.”
JAFAR
The bastard takes the bait.
I struggle not to burst from concealment too soon. Watching Lierr wrap a fist in my mate’s hair and expose the vulnerable column of her throat takes more control than I anticipated. I want to leap toward the pair, rip my mate from the other male’s arms. None of which is part of our plan to trap the thief master.
Mentally, I stalk Lierr, testing for weaknesses in the male’s defenses. He’s surrounded not only by human guards, but by powerful mazhyk. Logically, Miu has to go through all the motions of reluctantly cooperating with Lierr. He’s too well protected and I don’t like the odds of success if I am forced to confront all of those guards at once. To say nothing of the mazhyk the thief master might wield.
Lierr bends his head and whispers something to Miu. Edging closer through the shadows, I move up behind him. I am still too far away to hear what is being said, but I force myself to wait, not knowing how Miu’s scheme is going down. I must to wait until the Doorway opens.
And then the entire plan goes to hell in the proverbial hand basket. The Doorway opens, all right, but through it, I make out not the familiar tunnels of the catacombs, but the distinctive reddish glow of Qaf.
Hell, I never should have let my Miu come with me on this fool’s mission. Neither of us knows enough about how the necklace works to really control it.
With a savage growl, I leap from my hiding place. Already, Lierr is moving toward the open Doorway, his long stride eating up the ground with each step. Miu is draped in his arms, limp. I remind myself that her position is part of the plan—as is my reaching the pair before Lierr takes her through the Doorway. But something has gone terribly wrong. It seems fairly certain that Lierr has either traveled by Doorway before or understands the way the necklace works far better than we do. Obviously, he’s done something to direct the portal so it will open in Qaf. Whatever happens, I cannot let Miu go through that Doorway.
Now I curse myself as twice a fool for having agreed to her plan in the first place. Preparing to attack, I launch myself into a smooth, lethal run and aim straight for Lierr.
Lierr spits a low curse and mazhyk lights the tea garden. I don’t need to feel the blast of heat from the Doorway to know where Lierr wants to go. Hell. The bastard is an Ifrit. He glows darker with each step he takes toward the open Doorway.
“Stop,” I command, knowing that Lierr won’t, but hoping against hope. With Lierr possessing Ifrit mazhyk, the fight will be closer than I anticipated. Sighting my target, I throw my first blade, aiming for the heart.
Cursing, Lierr throws up a shield of hot air with the flick of a wrist, then swings his armful of my female around to use as shield. This is the part where Miu is supposed to resuscitate. She does, coming alive in the other male’s arms in a lethal whirl of arms and legs.
Lierr subdues her easily, and with too much pleasure. “I’ll enjoy teaching her what an Ifrit demands of the female in his bed. And there’s not going to be a damned thing you can do about it.”
“Want to bet?” I growl, taking a step forward. I sense rather than feel the guards across the tea garden drawing their blades.
“Right. She’s your mate.” The Ifrit cocks his head and stares at me. “I should be concerned about that bond you’ve got between the two of you.” He shrugs. “No. Not really. I’ve heard that the male can feel every touch, every stroke the female feels. That true, Jafar? If it is, you’re going to feel me fucking her every day for the rest of your life.”
Miu sinks her teeth deep into Lierr’s wrist.
“Oh, not nice, love,” Lierr growls. A thick fist comes up, snapping Miu’s head back. This time she won’t be coming out of it anytime soon.
I shift with a roar of rage. Pheromones are a red wash of color obscuring my vision as I give the beast full rein. There is no time to stop and negotiate—I don’t think Lierr is in any mood for it anyway.
Pausing, Lierr smiles. “See me off, now, will you, Jafar? Did you know Pho was my lover? Once again, here I am with a female of yours and, surprise, surprise—turns out she’s not yours at all. I hear darling Pho had you wrapped around her finger, wanting her. The big, tough Guardian who couldn’t believe—couldn’t accept—that the female he wanted didn’t want him. All she wanted was what you could give her: access to the temp
le. My Miu here is cut from the same cloth. She doesn’t really want you, Guardian. No, what she wants is your necklace—so that she can please me.”
So Lierr planned this setup from the very beginning. It’s no accident that he sent Miu down into the catacombs, to the necklace and the Doorways I always guarded. I ignore the sharp bite of shock. Miu isn’t Pho, although the taunting sneer on Lierr’s face claims otherwise.
“You chose a female over the Guardians all those years ago. And now you’ve done it again. Slow learner, aren’t you?”
“Miu is not Pho,” I say through gritted teeth.
Logically, I know this is the truth. But on the surface, the two females share the same story: both were intruders in the temple, intent on personal agendas, and both times I let them go free.
Lierr shoots me a look. “Are you sure about that, Cat? From where I stand, there are a whole lot of similarities. Guess who she’ll choose—the master to whom she pledged herself as a child, or you, the male she’s been fucking on the side?”
This is where Miu is supposed to roll free. Clearly, she isn’t going to be doing so anytime soon. Lierr snaps his fingers. Large male bodyguards slip out of shadows around us as Lierr steps through the Doorway, taking Miu with him.
Rage pours through me, struggling to break free of my skin as my Cat snarls in anger. Lierr has taken my mate.
Launching myself through space, I aim for the rapidly closing Doorway.
MIU
Returning to consciousness is like swimming up through layers of thick, heated water that threatens to pull me down to some unseen bottom. Cracking an eye, I examine my surroundings and find my situation just as bad as I anticipated. Lierr has not only pulled me straight through the Doorway and into Qaf—he’s taken me to a whole new part of that world. Instead of the hot sand plains that surround the cliffs on all sides, the damn male has dragged me into one of the shadowy caverns I spotted on my last field trip here.
Now, he presses his face against the side of my neck, tracing a hot, damp pattern on the exposed skin. I shove at his arm, my head still swimming from his blow.
“Rise and shine, love.” Sharp teeth nip at my throat. “We’re home.”
No. Home is in another realm altogether. With Jafar. I force the panic from my mind. I’m not supposed wind up in Qaf. I’m supposed to be back inside the temple, with Jafar. Ready to hand Lierr and the necklace over to the Amun Ra. So, once again, things aren’t going according to plan.
A hard finger strokes down my cheek. “I grow impatient.”
Woozily, I force my eyes open all the way.
Lierr’s dark eyes watch me. “You have heard stories about the Ifrits, love?”
“That women run screaming from them?” I smile sweetly for his benefit, but my mind races.
“I’ll have you screaming, all right.” He drops me onto something soft and I immediately shove myself upright into a sitting position. Flat on my back with Lierr in the room seems immensely unwise, and the massive bulge in his groin has me rethinking the word immense.
His eyes follow mine. “I’m looking forward to it,” he says lightly. “I think you’ll find I have some unfamiliar sides.”
“Save it,” I suggest, scooting to the edge of the bed. Somewhat to my surprise, he doesn’t stop me. Merely stands over me, looking smugly amused.
“At least admit that I won this round. Your little trick failed, Miu, and here we are. Just the two of us.” He waves a hand at our surroundings.
The cavern to which he’s brought us holds only the bed he dropped me on, but the enormous four-poster with its crimson hangings dominates the already impressive space. Flames roar to life in the fireplace with a flick of his hand, their shadows crawling across the thick fur pelts covering the floor. I’m not sure I want to know what animal provided the rug. Since Ifrits skin their enemies, I’m probably treading on some poor wereprince who fell afoul of the Ifrits and sacrificed his pelt for their creature comforts.
Unfortunately, there are no windows. Just a single doorway, and of course, Lierr’s large body is planted firmly between me and that escape route.
I need moonlight to make the necklace work again: is the moon up here? If it is, I plan to do my damnedest to leave Lierr behind. Odds are high he can’t move freely between the realms or he would do so on his own. He wouldn’t have been looking for the necklace.
I take a half step toward the cavern mouth. If I make it outside, I stand a chance of escaping. But first I need to retrieve the moonstone necklace. I touch my throat, finding nothing. Lierr must have removed it while I was unconscious.
Lierr stalks toward me and I scramble for the safety of words. I need to keep him talking. Has Jafar made it through the Doorway? Is he somewhere on Qaf, searching for me?
“Why?” I eye him. Has he grown even larger since we arrived or am I imagining things? “Why’d you come through the Doorway to our world all those years ago?”
“Looking for true confessions, a tell-all tale, Miu?”
“Humor me.” Apparently he must think he does owe me something. Not only does he not backhand me for my curiosity, but he fills in the blanks for me.
“I fell in love, Miu.” He bows mockingly. “Like you, I’m afraid I chose someone a tad out of my social class. Pho was charming, talented, beautiful.” He shrugs. “As well as bloodthirsty, passionate, and ambitious. Perfection in an Ifrit package with a bloodline that would have made a purist weep.”
“Sounds fabulous.” Did he put the necklace in his pocket? The material bulges slightly and, as unfamiliar as I am with Ifrit anatomy, I recognize concealed jewels when I see them. How to get it back?
“Oh, she was. Except for the princess bit. That part made my life infinitely more difficult. The rank and file doesn’t court the nobility.”
Not in any world. Yeah, that would suck all right. No point in throwing my abductor that bone though. “Didn’t know that Ifrits had females.” If they have females of their own, then why are they constantly marauding through the Doorways, making off with human females? Something doesn’t add up.
“A few.” Lierr’s eyes darken. “Well guarded. But Pho, well, she was as restless—as curious—as I was. She’d laid hands on the necklace years before we teamed up; the bauble had apparently belonged to her mother. The necklace’s powers made it possible for the wearer—and anyone touching her—to move through the Doorways as many times as they wished. So we explored.”
“She was a moon daemon?”
“No, the necklace was keyed to her family’s bloodlines. It worked for her and would have worked for her mother. It certainly didn’t work for me.”
“So why me?” I stare at him suspiciously. “Why am I able to make the thing work?”
He smiles patronizingly. “Apparently, when the necklace was created, moon daemon blood was used to seal the words into the stone. A loophole, a back door,” he explains impatiently, when I look at him blankly. “In case someone besides the owner wanted to use the artifact, he’d have to know what kind of blood was used in the original ceremony—and he’d have to be able to lay hands on that kind of donor.” He laughs, but I don’t think he finds anything funny. “Ifrit society—our society—is terribly ancient. And rather Byzantine. My kind dotes on that sort of mystery and ritual. Creating a powerful artifact with secret keys would have been right up their alley. Easy access for those with the right family bloodlines—and a holy grail for everyone else.”
Lierr steps closer and, this time, there’s nowhere to go, short of hopping back up onto the bed, and there’s no way I’m issuing that kind of invitation. He strokes one long finger down my neck, testing the softness of my flesh. “Pretty,” he says absentmindedly.
I edge away from his touch, closer to the cavern mouth. I can’t make a run for it though. He’ll be on me in a flash and I still don’t have the necklace. “Tell me more,” I encourage. Tell me more and forget about the lustful thoughts you’re wearing on your face. Hell, he could write gonna fuck you now on h
is face and it couldn’t be much clearer that returning home is waking up the long-suppressed Ifrit needs.
“Well, eventually Pho’s father found out that daughter dearest was making unauthorized forays into the upper realms.” He shrugs. “He wasn’t happy. At all. He rather suspected that Pho was looking for a way to gain power. It’s what most Ifrit princesses do, eventually: supplant their sires. Take their places at the courts. Rule, if they’re strong enough.”
“Was she?”
“Maybe. It didn’t matter. She was still very young and Papa sent a pack of Ifrits after us while we were exploring Shympolsk. Without any Ifrits of our own and just a couple of human servants, we didn’t stand much of a chance. He knew that.”
“But you survived.” And had somehow gone from inter-realm refugee to world-class thief.
“I did. I’m afraid I was too much of a rebel to give in and die quietly. While Papa’s Ifrits grabbed my poor princess, I fled. She must have got away from them long enough to open a Doorway into that temple of your damned Cat, but then they killed her.”
“She killed Guardians. And a mate.”
Lierr seems unconcerned. “It didn’t matter. Not to me. She could have killed anyone she wanted, so long as they weren’t Ifrit. The laws are different here, love. Your kind are terribly expendable.”
“Right,” I say tightly. “So your Pho was dead and buried in the Guardians’ temple, and you were stuck in our world, with no way to open a Doorway back to Qaf.”
Lierr nods. “Until I found you. Then I knew I finally had a chance. Sure, the necklace was locked up good and tight in Pho’s coffin and I couldn’t see any way of getting to it right away, but I knew that eventually I’d have my chance. I waited, learning everything I could about the temple, grooming you to be the perfect thief, the perfect mate the Cats could not resist. I knew you would do anything I asked to complete the hundredth theft and gain freedom for you and your sister. You would bring me the necklace, and I would have my ticket home.”