Smokeless Fire (Fire Spirits #1)

by Samantha Young

  She groaned inwardly, pressing her nose against the window pane. Sucks.

  Ari was close to giving up on feeling the heat through the glass when Jai’s voice cut through the room, commanding and steely, “I think it’s time we test your other powers.”

  Nervous little cretins awoke in her stomach, dancing and partying around in there, not caring that she was this close to throwing up.

  Ari knew what Jai meant when he said ‘other powers’.

  Stealing herself, she turned around slowly, her eyes falling on the table. Charlie sat looking at her, a forkful of egg inches from his mouth as he waited on her answer. Jai was finished eating, his plate pushed away from him, his arms crossed over his chest so his muscles flexed almost threateningly. “Why now?” she asked quietly, afraid.

  “Because The Red King is taking a while. I don’t know what that means but I do know that time is running out. I think we should use what time we do have sensibly. To me it makes sense that we test the powers of the Seal.” His eyes narrowed at the petulant look she threw him. “Hey, I’m not happy about it either. The only way to test those abilities is to test it on the Jinn. The only Jinn we have in our midst is yours truly. I’m putting a lot of trust in you that you won’t command me to do something asinine.”

  Ari snorted. “Asinine?”

  “Ari…” he warned, standing up.

  Charlie had been watching the byplay between them, his head swiveling back and forth. Now he grinned wickedly up at Jai. “Do I get to choose what she commands you to do? Come on, let me, it’ll be fun.”

  Jai laughed humorlessly. “I said I don’t want her commanding me to do something asinine, kid.”

  Charlie’s grin disappeared as quickly as it had surfaced. “I told you not to call me, kid, Jinn boy. I’m what… two years younger than you, douchebag?”

  “Try five. And that’s only in physical years.”

  “What, you trying to say I’m not mature?”

  “Oh those socks you’re wearing definitely are. Have you heard of detergent? A shower? Hygiene?”

  “I shower, you militant, glorified fucking babysitter.”

  “Watch it, kid.”

  “Kid? I am this close to taking a swing at you, you overblown piece of—”

  “Oh for the love of God!” Ari cried, throwing her hands up, her head pounding. So much for their strained peace treaty. “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!”

  Despite their matching glowers, both of them slammed their lips closed and glared at one another. Ari heaved a sigh of relief as she pulled a chilled can of soda out of the refrigerator. At least the soda still felt nice sliding down her throat. Not the same as an ice cold Coke on a blazing summer day but still nice. She took a refreshing swig and turned towards her male companions once again. Blasts of frost shot out from Jai’s eyes only to be met by the simmering black heat of Charlie’s angry gaze. Rolling her eyes and biting back the guilt that she was somehow responsible for the animosity between the only two people she could count on right now, Ari spilled into the chair between them and Jai slowly sunk back down into his.

  “So what will I command you?” she asked quietly, ignoring the way her fingers trembled as she played with the tab on her soda can.

  When she got no answer, she glanced up to see Jai’s face going red, the veins in his head throbbing.

  “Dude, what’s wrong?” Charlie asked quietly, looking at Ari in alarm. “Is he choking?”

  Ari’s heart flipped in her chest at the thought and she reached across the table to grab his arm. “Jai?”

  His eyes widened and he waved a large hand at his throat and mouth and then pointed at her.

  What the hell?

  “Jesus Christ, he can’t talk?” Charlie asked incredulously. “Is this a joke?

  Ari, your power! Jai’s voice blasted into her head in a shout, probably born from his frustration. It knocked her back in her chair with a painful wince. You commanded me to shut up!

  Holy macaroons, so she had! “And it worked?”

  “What?” Charlie blinked in confusion.

  “Telepathy,” she muttered, staring at Jai wide-eyed. Curiously she reached a hand out, her fingers brushing his warm throat without thinking. His eyebrows hit his hairline at her touch and as quickly as she had reached out to him his own hand trapped hers in a tight grip, pushing her away. Hurt, Ari pulled out of his grip, ignoring the flip in her stomach and the tingles down her spine at the feel of his work-roughened hands sliding against her skin.

  Guess it works. His voice sounded quieter, more subdued.

  She nodded, at once creeped out and unsure of herself. I can really command Jinn to do anything?

  Looks that way.

  Her mouth twisted at the possible consequences of this verification. I am so screwed.

  Looks that way.

  She shot him a dirty look. You want to be able to speak again or not, Jinn Boy.

  Hey!

  She smiled teasingly. What? I think Charlie came up with a super nickname.

  When he smirked at her, Ari felt relief pour through her, glad to see his features soften a little. I think Charlie better watch his mouth.

  Why? No matter what he says it’s not like I can command him to shut up.

  Shame.

  You really should try to get along.

  Hmmph. That’s as likely as humans rediscovering the lost city of Palmyra.

  I have no idea what that means.

  Jinn thing.

  Ahh what else. The bitterness must have been apparent in her eyes and tone because his whole demeanor changed.

  Ari…

  Noting his concerned look, Ari smiled softly at him. I can never tell with you, Jai… do you actually care or not?

  He froze, his green gaze pinning her to the spot. I’m your guardian. I care.

  Because you’re my guardian?

  Why else? And why do you care if I care? He cocked his head, his eyes narrowing. You’re in love with the kid… right?

  I… I—

  “OK, this is getting old,” Charlie snapped, jerking Ari out of the little bubble she’d gotten caught up in with Jai. Her heart was pounding against her ribs, blood rushing in her ears, and she was pretty sure in her face.

  What the hell did that mean?

  Did… Jai…

  Oh my god, what did that mean? She eyed him, frustrated as all hell when his gaze dropped. Can you uncommand the whole shutting up thing? he asked, the monotone back.

  Huffing in annoyance at the interruption, not only at Charlie, but at herself for being annoyed with Charlie, Ari nodded. “Jai, I command you to be able to talk again. Or whatever.”

  He made a face at the ‘or whatever’ part and cleared his throat. “I… great, I can talk again.”

  “Well.” Charlie shrugged. “Paradise could only last so long, right.”

  Getting up from the table, shaking a little at her unraveling, Ari cuffed Charlie across the head. “Be nice.”

  “Tell him to be nice!”

  “I can’t,” she snorted, looking back over her shoulder at them. “If I did that he’d actually have to be nice… it would be like re-writing his entire personality.”

  Jai grunted. “Funny.”

  Charlie chuckled. “I thought so.”

  Rolling her eyes, Ari strolled out of the kitchen, not surprised at the scrape of kitchen chairs across tiling as the two of them rose to follow her out. Jai was still contracted to be glued to her hip and Charlie had taken up residence in her home and life as a guardian in frickin’ training. Not for the first time, Ari wished she could have just one moment of alone time so she could gather her thoughts and work out what the hell was going on with her and how she really felt. About everything.

  It was the stalemate. The waiting.

  Where’s a Jinn King when you need one?

  If there was one thing being an immortal Jinn King had taught him it was patience. For days The Red King awaited news from his father after requesting an audience with h
im. His father, the all-seeing, all-knowing, powerful Sultan of the Jinn, Azazil, was most assuredly aware of The Red King’s reason to request an audience. Azazil enjoyed drama, conflict, tragedy, destruction — he liked to manipulate a situation into place, then draw it out and glory in the carnage that resulted from frustration and impatience and misunderstanding. It came as no surprise then to The Red King that he heard no word from Azazil for seventy two hours. And now he was summoned while he sat in a darkened movie theatre in Stockholm watching a reshowing of a Swedish horror movie that made Interview with a Vampire look like Nosferatu. Disgruntled at the call during an especially chilling scene, The Red King stepped into the Cloak before descending into the Peripatos. Unlike his brothers, The Red King was still quite enamored with the mortal realm. He liked the movies and technological gadgets they were forever creating. Their science and inventiveness was a form of magic even they themselves did not appreciate.

  He thought them rather clever.

  He even (although he would never admit so to his brothers or father) liked some of them.

  Granted access to Azazil’s compound in the furthest reaches of Mount Qaf, The Red King appeared in the Receiving Room with grace and aplomb, automatically conjuring robes and hand-sewn leather trousers more befitting to this realm and his father’s tastes. His hair he let loose and he strode towards his father’s throne at the farthest end of the room with his red robes and hair billowing out behind him like a flickering flame. He was an impressive, intimidating sight, and his vanity preened a little as he relished the awed looks that crossed the faces of the hundreds of servant Jinn who stood in formation, one after the other, on each side of the room. They were garbed in white pants and loose white shirts, no accessories adorning their bodies. They were all Shaitains, immensely powerful, but completely under Azazil’s command. Despite their own power and their subjection to the Sultan Azazil the sight of one of the Seven Kings of Jinn could still thrill them. The Red King remained expressionless as he passed them, the Receiving Room stretching an impressive few hundred yards, the glass ceilings and floor only interrupted by cuts of precious stones that winked back in all of the reflections, creating a chaos that only the Jinn could see through without becoming befuddled. The ceilings arched high above him and the dais that housed Azazil’s throne stretched way before him. The Receiving Room was as vast as an airplane hangar, designed to confuse the unworthy and intimidate the ignorant.

  Using enchantment to silence the sounds of his bare feet slapping on the glass floor, The Red King swept along, eager to discuss Ari’s predicament with his father.

  Finally, he drew to a halt several paces before the throne. The throne itself was constructed entirely of black flawless marble, the hard, harsh lines undisturbed. There were no arabesques or curlicues or chiseled reliefs. Its high back rose a good ten feet in the air, the overawing light of the Receiving Room seeping into its deep black like a sponge soaking up water. Azazil eyed him, his black eyes narrowed. He gave his son a tiny nod and The Red King took the steps up to the dais with ease and confidence. His father held his hand out and he took it carefully, bowing over gracefully to place a respectful kiss on his father’s knuckles. Nodding approvingly now, Azazil waited for his son to retrace his steps back down from the dais before waving a hand across the air in front of him. The Red King felt the heat of the enchantment at his back, crawling on his robe like little secret spiders.

  “We have privacy now, my son,” his deep voice, so like The White King’s, rumbled around them like the thunder of an avalanche on a snow-covered mountain. “You need my help? It is time?”

  He nodded. “My brother has had a Shaitan place an unbreakable enchantment upon Ari’s human father Derek Johnson.”

  Light glittered in Azazil’s black eyes and he smiled. Although the smile was sinister, Azazil’s power was such that his smile made you warm and eager to stretch your own lips into a matching expression. “Clever. It seems my son has played into my plans every step of the way.”

  The Red King gave a sharp nod. “Yes, Father. It appears he has.”

  “His arrogance will be the death of him. It pleases me. His arrogance. As does your loyalty to me.”

  “Yes, Father.”

  Azazil abruptly burst into raucous laughter, the harsh and unearthly sound making even The Red King wince. “Is it not humorous, son, The White King believes my greatest lieutenant would be fooled by an Ifrit?”

  “It amuses me greatly.”

  “I will have to take your word on that since you show no mirth.”

  “I laugh inwardly, Father. My brother believes Sala stole the Seal of Solomon from around Asmodeus’ neck when in truth you commanded Asmodeus to let her take it.”

  Not without his own conceit, Azazil enjoyed having his trickery repeated over and over again so he could glory in his own cleverness and manipulative genius. His humor, however, dissipated as his eyes took on a contemplative look. His moods were as mercurial as the sea. “The White King must never be Sultan, son. He is not cool-headed enough to claim mastery over the Fire Spirits. But sometimes I do admire his intelligence. Transforming the Seal into human form was one of his better notions. Why did I let his plan play out?”

  Patience, The Red King reminded himself, patience is my greatest ally when dealing with the Sultan. For perhaps the tenth time, The Red King found himself reiterating Azazil’s words of wisdom when he discovered The White King’s plans to create Ari. “Many have sought the Ring of Solomon over the centuries. If one of those seekers were to be successful in finding the Seal they could have commanded us all and ripped Chaos from its Master’s hands. But if the Seal is a child, if the Seal is Ari, she can be manipulated, she can be swayed, and her loyalty to you can be won.”

  He smiled, pleased with his son’s passionate oration. “Such fine words I weave.”

  “Yes, Father.”

  “So.” He straightened, his huge seven feet tall frame moving sinuously on the throne. “The next phase is in place. Ari has been forced into using the powers gifted to her at birth?”

  “Yes, Father. And I promised I would ask you to help her find the Shaitan who has hurt her mortal father.”

  Azazil nodded slowly. “She has begun to trust you?”

  “I believe so.”

  “Good.”

  “If Master would see fit to do this for her, I believe Ari would also come to trust you.”

  Like a serpent slithering across Azazil’s face, another smile slid into place. “Excellent.”

  ~21~

  The Realm of Truth and Lies

  Charlie had a way of taking Ari’s mind off things. Jai might not like that but he admitted the truth in it as he watched the two of them laugh through a foreign movie without the subtitles, translating for the actors on screen and coming up with ridiculous lines that made even Jai snort with amusement. Sitting together on the couch, close, their arms brushing, Ari’s chin tilted up as she laughed into Charlie’s face, Jai could suddenly see the years of friendship between them. They were comfortable, in sync. Jai was still suspicious of Charlie and his interest in the Jinn, but it hadn’t taken him long in close quarters with the teenagers to see that the kid genuinely cared about Ari. Probably loved her even.

  And right now she needed that familiarity and that comfort that Jai was unable to provide her. All he could do was sit back and watch as she grew sadder and angrier over all the changes in her life. It had made him panic, that darkness in the depths of her forever-changing eyes. The last thing they needed was for Ari to spiral into the black, especially when she was just getting a handle on her powers. So it was a relief to see her acting like Ari again. Even if it was this untrustworthy idiot bringing her back to the light.

  Keeping his eyes trained on his book, Jai sighed, wondering when and if The Red King was ever going to show up. Despite his tendency to distrust everything and everyone there was something about that particular Jinn King. If Jai didn’t trust him he at least liked the ancient immortal. Had he b
een wrong about him? Was he going to leave Ari’s dad to die? Sliding a furtive glance Ari’s way, he felt a pang of anxiety creep in. What would happen to Ari if Derek died?

  Are we irritating you? Ari’s laughing voice suddenly echoed around his mind and Jai bit back a smile, focusing his gaze down on his book.

  Not at all. In fact, I’m amazed at your ability to rewrite a script on the spot.

  Her laughter glittered in his brain like champagne bubbles, making his heart throb. Jai slid his hand over his chest on the place that ached, wanting to contain the feeling somehow.

  We used to do this when we were kids. She was getting good at using telepathy. As she spoke to him with her mind, she was still engaging in conversation with Charlie. It was difficult to do. Not many could.

  Ah years of practice then.

  Yeah. It’s nice. Feels like old times.

  You know your boy hasn’t had a drink or a smoke in days? Why was he telling her that? He wasn’t supposed to be encouraging her with Charlie. Well you can’t encourage her with you so…

  I know. At least one good thing has come out of all of this right?

  Hearing the melancholy creep into her voice again, Jai hurried to reassure, Ari, everything will be fine. I promise.

  For a moment he didn’t think she’d answer but then…

  If you say so then I believe you.

  Something in her voice caught him, making his heart pound, and he twisted his neck around to look at her across the room. She gazed back at him, her expression unreadable but serious. Jai gave her a soft nod.

  If she believed in him there was no way he was letting her down.

  Ari was mentally berating herself for not being able to spend five minutes without having some kind of interaction with Jai – using her telepathy to talk to him behind Charlie’s back? What was that? She had little time to yell at herself, however, her attention caught by the dark, writhing shadows that suddenly came to life across the living room walls. The atmosphere in the room grew charged and the spot in front of the television screen shimmered.