by Anne Marsh
“But why did you want to get back to Qaf so badly? You had everything you could have wanted in Shympolsk—wealth, women, power. Did you miss this place so much?”
“No.” He withdraws the moonstone from his pocket. “Not precisely.”
The Ifrit who steps into the chamber answers the question for me. “He wanted revenge.”
“Papa?” I ask lightly.
“Precisely.” Dark satisfaction lights Lierr’s eyes.
Nothing has prepared me for the brutal reality of two Ifrits fighting it out, tooth and nail. Mazhyk to mazhyk. Each blow lands wetly, with the horrific crunching of bone. The chamber is awash in dark black blood.
Now is an excellent time to get the hell out of the chamber.
Out of Qaf.
“I’ve been watching you,” the Ifrit growls, flinging Lierr backward against the wall. “Every step you took, you bastard, I was there, I was watching.”
Lierr spits blood and lunges toward his opponent. “Fat lot of good it did you,” he sneers. “Lost your precious Pho, didn’t you?”
“And you’ll lose your female here,” the newcomer snarls. “I sent a pack of Ifrits after her when she first laid hands on your necklace. Almost got her then, but instead, I’ll have her now.”
I edge away from the two Ifrits. This Ifrit is responsible for the deaths of Ebo and my men? Any sympathy I feel over the loss of his daughter dies a rapid death. Papa jerks Lierr’s arm impossibly high behind Lierr’s back. With a wet popping sound, the bones dislocate and skin tears. Lierr howls, dropping the necklace to the floor.
“I’ll use your little pet,” the invader taunts. “Plow her hard while you watch. Not going to be much of her left after tonight.”
Way to bring me into this. Lierr growls and shakes his arm back into place, diving for the other man’s chest with his clawed hands.
What did the other Ifrit say? Tonight? It’s nighttime. Escape time.
The two whirlwinds collide before me in a rain of fire and sparks. Darting past them, I throw myself toward the necklace lying forgotten on the cavern floor. Just as my fingers close over it, two large hands clamp brutally around my upper arms. Smoke blinds me. Where is Lierr? Something in the gloating look of Papa Ifrit’s face as he abandons me to pick up the necklace from the floor tells me that my former Master hasn’t fared too well. Deciding I need to get away from this bloodbath, with or without the necklace, I lunge for the cavern entrance.
Outside, I find myself in a maze of tunnels and lava tubes that would mystify anyone but a moon daemon. Drawing on my link to the moonlight outside, I run for the surface as the chamber shakes behind me.
JAFAR
I am faster in my Cat form, so I refuse to shift, ruthlessly pushing my body up the stone tunnel. Nothing will stop me from reaching my female. The Cat’s paws devour the distance, wicked claws clicking ominously against the loose stones. My female. My mate.
Judging by the din coming from up ahead, it won’t be difficult to find her.
With any luck, I’ll kill two birds with one stone. I’ll get my mate back—and I’ll strike a devastating blow at the Ifrits. I don’t fool myself: even though I still am a Guardian at heart, I’ve broken rank. I’ve turned my back on Amun Ra and the other Guardians. They might welcome any destruction I wreak on the Ifrits, but they won’t welcome me back. In their place, I would feel the same. I’ve made my choice. And I haven’t chosen them. I chose Miu.
Pushing thoughts of my mate hurt, broken—alone—from my mind, I let the Cat’s drive consume me. The walls rush past me in a furious blur. There. Up ahead. I spot her, fighting back a sigh of relief, and then want to roar. This isn’t like me. I don’t feel. Ever. I am a ruthless killer. A Guardian.
Well, it could rain Ifrits and I’d still want to pull the cursed female into my arms and rumble words of love and admonishment into her dirt-streaked hair. Fighting off Ifrits has left her distinctly the worse for wear. Long pieces of unruly hair stick out of her haphazard braid and someone has dragged her face through the dust. She’s acquired a mud brown coating that makes her look like a prickly Qevarian hedgehog.
Wait. My mind backs up, reeling. Mud is the least of my worries.
Words of admonishment. And love.
I understand discipline. And, hell, I am made for punishment. Heat sizzles through me as I consider the erotic possibilities of instilling just a modicum of sense into my mate. But love? The Cat chuffs in feral agreement and the man—well, the man knows when to admit he’s lost. Yeah. I close my eyes briefly and wonder if my legs are really that wobbly. It will be embarrassing if I have to break off my pursuit and lean against the wall to catch my breath.
Love.
I love my prickly, stubborn, gorgeous-inside-and-out femi. The Cat chuffs again and, this time, my mate finally looks behind her. Damn moon daemon eyes. They’d pick me out even if my own eyes weren’t glowing with the change, not to mention all that pent-up passion burning its slow, insidious way through my veins.
Yeah, I have it bad for her.
“Kitty?” She half turns, skidding to a stop. She reaches out one hand to steady herself against the walls of the tunnel.
My Cat chuffs happily and doesn’t resist when I shift.
“Moon daemon,” I grunt, just to watch her eyes light up. I’ve definitely lost the battle against love.
She takes a step toward me—she is coming, to me—and then there is another loud, earsplitting explosion from behind her. Somewhere, an Ifrit shrieks with even more force than a cave banshee, and the smooth sides of the tunnel ripple with the expanding power. The bare skin of her neck is red and abraded, but even the lost necklace doesn’t matter right now.
I want her to come to me. Willingly. More than anything I ever wanted in my life.
“You did come for me,” she breathes. Her eyes hold something, something I desire—no, need—desperately to see. And then the undulating waves of power roll over us, shaking the surfaces and sending her stumbling.
Putting on a burst of speed, I lunge forward, reaching for her.
She shrieks as the floor gives way beneath her, sending her plunging down into a nearby lava tube.
The Ifrits are fliers by nature. I doubt they put much time into cave maintenance. Sprinting, I leap over fallen boulders until I am perched on the dark edge of the place where Miu disappeared. I can’t tolerate losing her. Not when I’ve fought so hard to keep her.
Not when I need her so much.
Distantly, I realize that the whispers of love, fear, and rage pour from me, filling up the new silence. Rough words, but hell, I never said I was a poet, did I? Although I know that later, the raw sentiment will make me cringe.
“Damn female,” I mutter, followed by, “Love her to bits, not in bits.”
Flinging myself onto the edge, I peer down into the murk. The tube is a deep one, descending at a steep slant, with broken skeletons littering the floor. A floor that is a good forty yards beneath me.
“Did you mean it?” The voice comes from my side; my gaze shoots to the shadows and my heart stutters foolishly. Miu clings to the stone wall. One of the tube’s previous occupants hadn’t hit bottom at all, but had instead hit the side—and stuck. Miu hangs there with him, attached to the dead male’s arm like a burr. Wise woman.
I spare another glance for the bottom of the tube. Still too far to drop safely, I decide, even if she didn’t plummet downward out of control. I’ll need to pull her up from where she is.
I only hope the male who holds her in his arms hasn’t been dead long enough to fossilize. Brittle bones won’t help here. He seems to have been an Ifrit with bulky wings. He probably died fairly recently: an unpleasant aroma reaches my nose and I am fairly certain the stench isn’t coming from my mate.
Pulling off my cloak, I drop the leather over the edge. If she climbs up onto the male’s shoulders—and the corpse doesn’t fall apart at her touch—she should be able to jump and catch hold of the material.
“Up,” I say, wa
ggling the fabric above her. And then, “Yes, I meant it.” I do, but does she really want to discuss my feelings for her when she dangles in midair over a pit of razor-sharp skeletons?
For a moment, I think she might insist, but then she smiles, that small cat’s smile of her own that makes my cock throb and stir. “Guess that means I can trust you.”
“Sure.” I don’t bother telling her that love doesn’t mean I will always do what she wants. I’ll do my best to keep her happy and to keep her safe, but those two things may not always be the same.
“Jump,” I repeat.
“Better be sure, kitty.”
I am. It is the only way I can get her out of her current predicament.
Miu eyes the dead Ifrit. First time I’ve seen her look squeamish. “Ick. Can’t really be worse than the snakes, though, can it?” Her expression says she thinks the Ifrit-dead might actually be the greater evil of the two.
Another explosion rocks the cavern system, sending me half over the edge. I dig my heels in and scoot backward. We are running out of time and we need to get out of here. Now. “Speed it up, femi.”
She glares at me, but starts climbing. When her hand slaps the ground next to my head, I grasp her wrists and heave.
Her body flies out of the tube. I catch a glimpse of wide, dark eyes as she sails over my prone form; apparently, she expected a gentler landing because she grunts audibly when she lands. In a heap against the far wall. Well, if she wants gentlemanly, she’s running with the wrong crowd.
“Go,” I growl, not bothering with apologies. Instead, I turn toward the tunnel, where it pushes upward in a steady, calf-burning drive toward Qaf’s moon-blasted surface. We have big problems on our hands. The sounds of battle are escalating and it sounds as if the combatants are intent on blowing up all the tunnels and caverns in the surrounding area. I don’t need my Cat to tell me that anyone with an inkling of self-preservation would hightail it for the surface and an exit point to another world.
Miu shoves a handful of honey-colored hair out of her face and feels carefully for the leather thong that is supposed to be containing the mass. As if we have all the time in the world and the floor isn’t shaking with bone-jarring force around us. She bounces slightly on her feet. “No,” she says. “No leaving. No skedaddling. Not in that direction.”
She’s obviously located the missing bit of leather because she jerks it toward the surface tunnel in unexpected punctuation. When she lifts her arms and begins a hasty braid—maybe the noise is finally beginning to convince her that it is time to make a judicious exit—the thin silk of her tattered robe pulls over her chest. I am sick, I decide. Her pale, dusty skin gleaming through the tears has me fantasizing about pushing her back down to the floor of the lava tube. Mounting her right where we are and stroking some sort of carnal sense back into her.
“No leaving,” she repeats. “I’m not running this time.”
I force my jaw to remain where it is. No? She wants to stay here? As if to prove my point, another bone-rattling explosion jars the air around us. I thrust out an arm to keep her from falling.
“What,” I ask carefully, “in Heqet’s name would make you want to stay here?”
“The necklace, Jafar. I need to go back and get the necklace.”
She hasn’t brought the necklace out with her. It is still in the hands of an Ifrit. Lust vanishes in an unpleasant flash of cold reality. If she wants the necklace, she was running in the wrong direction when I caught up with her. When I point this out to her, she frowns at me.
“Details.” She waves her hand vaguely in the air. “I had every intention of doubling back. Just as soon as I’d thrown a certain angry Daddy Ifrit off course.” Another explosion makes her grab my arm. Damn. The battle behind us is heating up. Pretty soon the entire tube system will crash down around our ears.
“Are you crazy?” My voice is low and tight. “We need to get out of here now.” I’ll come back later for the necklace—if Amun Ra leaves me alive long enough for a return trip.
“No.” She digs in her heels when I tug her toward the upward slope. “Appreciate the rescue, kitty—and the sentiments.” She flashes me an evil grin and I fight the urge to groan. “But I’m going back. I’m getting that necklace.”
She is crazed. That makes her a good match for me, I suppose. Stubborn as a cat—or a mule. I cast another glance back toward the tunnel out of which we’d come. Dust leaks from the darkness, swirling ominously around our ankles. In a few more minutes, it won’t matter who is right and who is wrong. We’ll both be dead. Very, very dead. Not even shifting can fix the damage four tons of very sharp rock will do to my body.
“You don’t need the necklace anymore. You’re free of Lierr and so is your sister.” I point out the obvious, deliberately swallowing my anger that she won’t give up. I know she isn’t greedy—not really. So why won’t she let the necklace go? “Damn it,” I roar, “let me keep you safe.”
She pauses for a minute and I almost think I’ve gotten through to her. “That’s sweet, kitty.” I close my eyes. Gods give me patience. “But I want my necklace back.”
“And you’re my mate. I want what’s best for you,” I say through gritted teeth. Crowding her against the tunnel wall, I pin her beneath my heavy weight, reminding her of who is in charge here.
She shoves back at my chest but stops wriggling. “Okay.”
Maybe she won’t argue with me. For once.
Then she continues, “We can go back together and get it.”
“You were running for the surface before,” I point out. “Seems to me that you’ve already admitted returning wasn’t your best idea.”
Stubbornly, she shakes her head. “Got to go back,” she insists.
Oh, I really hope not. Sounds of vicious fighting continue and the tunnel begins to shake again. Orange light pours out of the darkness, accompanied by the familiar, heavy feeling of powerful mazhyk being unleashed.
“Lierr,” I say tightly, “is not winning this fight.”
“Good.” She turns toward the downward slope. “All the better. I’ll just grab the necklace and go.”
“I should have left you in that tube.”
Why not? Who will stop me after all? Miu can’t; I have that much biology on my side. And, if I stashed her inside the tube, well, I’d know precisely where she is—and it has to be safer than letting her return with me to the chamber where Lierr is engaged in mortal combat with one extremely pissed-off Ifrit.
Why not indeed?
Moving swiftly, I grab her off her feet, aim carefully, and drop her over the edge. She slides down the side with a satisfying shriek—hell, I have to admit it feels good to get a bit of my own back. She has me running in circles.
Curses drift up.
I lie down on the side of the tube to check—yeah, she is well-snagged on that handy dead Ifrit once again.
“I trusted you!” Her voice echoes eerily off the rock surrounding her. A small shower of ancient dust and rock crashes down the side toward her. She splutters and swipes at her face.
“Good,” I snap. Being a knight in shining armor isn’t familiar territory for me. Usually I am the one stopping thieves—not striding off to become one. “I’m going to get your damn necklace. Hold on.”
“Why?” she wails.
Because if she lets go, she’ll die? I keep the words to myself, though. Both because I suspect sarcasm will make her launch herself for the surface and because the words are truer than I care to consider. I can’t let her go. Not now. She is too damn important to me. So instead, I settle for part of the truth. “Because you want that necklace. Because, for once in your life, you’re going to have to trust me.”
And I don’t even know why she wants the damn thing.
As if she’s reading my mind, her voice floats up toward me as she scrabbles at the sides. Surely, she won’t be foolish enough to try to climb out. Surely, she’ll wait for me to come back.
“For you,” she grits out.
/> I stare down. Her face is a pale oval in the growing shadows. We really are running out of time, making conversation at this point almost inexcusable.
Almost. I need to hear what she has to say.
“Excuse me?”
“For you,” she repeats. “I want the necklace for you.”
“Why would I want the bloody necklace?” I roar.
“For the Amun Ra.” Her face makes it clear that she resents having to explain this. “You said he told you not to take the necklace out of the temple. Maybe if you bring it back, he’ll remove the death sentence he put on you.”
“Why, thief, anyone would think you cared,” I drawl—and then I shift, streaking down the tunnel she just exited.
MIU
I sure don’t want the damn necklace for myself. It has already caused more than its fair share of trouble. In fact, it seems to me that people who try to keep it have a nasty way of winding up dead.
Hell, I’d beg Lierr to keep the thing, with my blessings, if it meant I could scoot on out of here in one piece—and take my Cat with me.
Problem is, the Amun Ra put a price on Jafar’s head when he took the necklace.
There’s no way my Cat can return to his people without it.
If Jafar leaves the necklace behind, he’ll pay the price. He may anyway. The Amun Ra doesn’t strike me as the forgiving type.
Not a whole lot of wiggle room, and I’m an expert when it comes to getting myself out of a tight spot.
Speaking of tight spots, I’ve landed in a bad one this time. I examine the walls of the tube in which I’m perched. Fifteen feet to the top, but it might as well be a mile, for all the good it does me. There’s no way I can get out until Jafar comes back.
Another thunderous explosion rocks the tube, sending an avalanche of pebbles down on my head.
“You’d better be good and anchored, buddy.” I eye my dead companion thoughtfully. Not the worst date I’ve ever had. Not by a long shot. The thieves who work for Lierr aren’t known for their charming manners—or any other stellar qualities for that matter.