He disappeared inside a doorway and she pushed through it to find him standing in the middle of an empty room. A huge empty room. It occurred to her she’d never seen this room before and panic slowly set in.
“Justin, come back outside. Talk to me.”
“It’s your fault. My parents whipped me, hard, because that man you married came to see them, to tell them what I’d done. It’s your fault. You told him.”
“No. Justin I’m sorry, please, come out of this room and talk to me. Let’s go see Bruce. Do you want to see Bruce?”
“Witch!” He launched himself at her, reaching for her shirt. She realized too late his intentions. He’d grabbed her necklace and pulled on it with almost super human strength. The chain broke and he snatched the citrine away from her body.
A deep laugh filled the room and Paschel appeared behind him. “Well done.” He held out his hand and Justin dropped the gem inside it. “Now, would you like to stay and see the wicked lady get punished, just like you were?”
“How could you? He’s just a boy!”
“And he’s very pliable, easily bending to what I wanted.” He twirled and indicated the room. “My own room, so big brother can’t find us. He can’t locate you in here without this.” He dangled the necklace from his fingers. “He thinks you’re just fine. But he’ll feel the first lash across your back. He’ll feel every one of them; I’ve made sure of that.”
She shook her head, calling for Paran in her mind and getting no answer.
“I’m going to whip you to within an inch of your life, and then I’m going to fuck you. And then, I’m going to kill you. I might let Kitel have you, too. Who knows?” He held up his hands and laughed, an evil sound that made Justin cover his ears and back away from him.
“Justin, it was Paschel that called your parents, not Paran. You have to believe me.”
Moreen tried to fight the panic that invaded her lungs, her heart. She turned toward the door, intent on running, only to find Kitel leaning against it, laughing. Kitel threw Paschel a bullwhip, which he caught, then flicked, sending a sharp crack reverberating through the room.
Kitel was behind her in seconds, grabbing at her arms. She kicked back, her foot coming into contact with his groin, amazed when he did nothing but laugh and whisper, “Do it harder. I like it.”
Anger burned inside her. She hadn’t come this far, hadn’t found what she wanted only to let these two assholes take it from her.
She grabbed his arms and squeezed. When he screamed, triumph welled inside her. He let her go and fell to the ground. She whirled around, shocked to see smoke rising from his body.
“Bitch.” He screamed and lunged for her.
She held out her hand. Tiny bolts of lightning hit Kitel’s body and he dropped instantly, writhing in pain.
When she turned back to Paschel, his eyes were open wide in surprise. “Well, well. Isn’t this interesting? Ot looks like you’ve absorbed some of my brother’s power. This will make it all the more pleasant for me.”
Moreen charged him, banging her head into his shoulder. He stumbled, but didn’t fall. She tried to grab the necklace as he shoved her aside, but it disappeared.
She turned to Justin. “Run! Run now! Go!” She ordered, pushing him toward the door. He pulled it open and ran out, but before she could follow, she was propelled back, landing on her ass.
“Oh, this will be fun,” Paschel said, his shoulders shaking in laughter as she jumped back up. “You may be able to surprise Kitel, but not me. Your hurting him only means I will make you suffer more. Are you ready?”
.They started to circle each other like boxers in a ring, Paschel trailing the whip behind him.
“Bring it on, baby. I survived the hellcats in Juvie, I can survive you, too.”
* * * *
Paran stopped in the middle of the hallway, clutching at the wall. He could feel the terror rushing off Moreen’s body, feel her fear, her anger. Somehow Paschel had gotten to her, taken her from here. But he couldn’t locate her, couldn’t feel her physical presence anywhere in the building.
He jerked his head at Matuse, who nodded and whistled. Immediately the collected group of Djinn began to fly around the room, pounding on walls and checking doors. They moved off into other areas, their search fast, but turning up nothing.
Paran screamed, an unholy sound that stilled the room. He clutched his back. “Bastard!” He screamed again, and then flailed out at the people around him, the pain his mate felt clouding his eyes with rage.
“Paran!” Matuse grabbed his arms. Paran stilled long enough to see Justin standing before him, tears streaming down his face.
“I didn’t mean to do it. He’s going to kill her. I didn’t know,” he sobbed.
Paran clutched the boy’s shoulders, squeezing harder than was necessary. “Show me where!”
They ran down the hall and Justin stopped, banging on the wall. “The door! It’s gone.”
Aliya pulled the young man back as Paran and Matuse aimed energy bolts at the wall. It gave quickly, shattering to reveal a large room. Moreen lay on the floor, rolling to avoid Paschel’s whip.
Bolts of lightning danced around them as the whip flew. Kitel lay on the floor, his body shaking in agony.
Paran grabbed the whip on the backstroke, yanking hard and pulling his brother flat on his ass. The room filled quickly and Aliya rushed to Moreen, helping her to stand. His wife reached for him, but he held up his hand.
He glared at his sibling. “Leave it to you to attack someone weaker than you,” he said, his voice low. “You’re a coward, Paschel.”
“I’m doing what father wanted: hurting her punishes you.”
“I would kill you, but I don’t want to dirty my hands. Instead, I give you a gift, a gift only a Djinni can give. I promise you a life of goodness, something that will make you regret every wicked move you’ve ever made in your life. It will leave you wracked with guilt, desperate to do good deeds to make up for what you’ve done.”
“No!” Paschel tried to stand, but the crowd of Djinn around him closed in, Paran in the center. Light filled the circle and the fallen demon screamed, and then started to sob like a baby.
Paran stared at him, huddled on the floor in the fetal position, his body shaking with sobs. He shook his head, then pushed his way out of the circle, rushing to Moreen.
He knelt and hugged her close to him, then gently turned her around and carefully lifted the tattered shreds of her shirt. He ran his finger down the welts on her back. She cried out and he ran it back up, taking the pain and the scars the lashes would leave into his own body, trembling at the pain that filled him, livid that she’d felt it first.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to protect you.”
She laughed through her tears. “The one time I obeyed you. I wore the necklace until Justin tore it off. It’s not his fault. Don’t punish him.”
“I won’t. I saw in his mind what happened.” He rose to his feet and gathered her close, stroking her hair. “My love, I am so sorry.”
Moreen sniffled, and then she held up her hand. “I shot lightning from my fingers.”
“What?” The word came out of his, Matuse, and Alois’s mouths all at the same time. Paran pointed to Kitel, who still lay prone. “You did that?”
She nodded, then buried her head in his shoulder. “What does it mean?”
Paran stared at Matuse. “I don’t know, my lovely, but we’ll find out. It’ll be all right. I promise.”
* * * *
Moreen took a sip of wine. She stood at the open balcony doors in Paran’s apartment—no, their apartment, she reminded herself. Paran sat in a chair, drinking his own glass of some dark liquid she didn’t recognize.
She stared at the lights of New York City, then turned to Matuse, who sat on the couch with Aliya. “So I’m a demon, is that it?”
“No,” Paran said, shaking his head. “Our bond is strong enough that you absorbed some of my power, yes, but you’re not a demon.�
��
“Who’s to say I won’t be?”
“I say,” Paran replied. “It won’t happen, I promise.”
Matuse cleared his throat. “It’s never happened before; we’ll put it that way. But attacking people with lightning bolts is a demon trait. When you were assaulted, you defended yourself and it came out.”
“Maybe I just channeled you,” she said to Paran, trying to laugh. She went and sat on his lap, cuddling into him as he wrapped his arms around her.
“Maybe so.” He kissed her forehead. “But I don’t want you to worry about it. As soon as we’re married in your world, I’ll train you in everything you need to know to defend yourself. No member of my family will ever harm you again.”
“Can’t you just do the good life thing on all of them?” Aliya held up her hands when Matuse shook his head at her. “What? It’s a fair question.”
“I couldn’t do that on my own,” Paran said. “It took every full powered Djinni in the room for that gift. Maybe my family doesn’t know that, though, and they’ll hide from me.”
Matuse took his wife’s hand. “We’re going now. Moreen, take a few days off and relax. That’s an order from your boss.”
They disappeared and Moreen burrowed further into Paran’s arms. “What about Justin?”
“I wiped his memory of what happened today, and of the beating he took at Paschel’s command. He won’t remember a thing.”
“Promise?”
“Would I lie to you?”
“No.” She stood and turned to him. “What happens if I really am a demon? Will I turn bad?”
“No, you won’t. You’re too strong for that. You allowed anger to rule you once, and you know what it did to you. You won’t let it happen again, will you?”
“No, I won’t. That would be spitting on the gift that you’ve given me.”
“What gift is that?”
“The gift of a good life; the gift only a genie can give.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’m not a genie.”
“That’s too bad. Because you know in the stories, all it takes is one genie to give someone a perfect life. Today it took all of you.”
“Moreen, you’re pressing your luck.” He stood and she danced around him, taking off for the hallway. “Stop! Get back here.”
“No.”
“You will obey me.”
“Fat chance of that.” She laughed as she sidestepped a silken rope that tried to wrap her up. “Lookie there, see what I can do now?”
“I see. And you, young lady, are in major trouble.”
“Yeah, but you’ve got to catch me first.” She took off down the hall with Paran thundering behind her. He tackled her on the bed, rolling her until she was flat on her back under him.
“Are you going to punish me, or fuck me?”
He narrowed his eyes, then claimed her lips in a deep kiss, breaking off with a loud pop. “Both.”
“Thank the stars above. Let’s get started then so I can test my new powers against your old ones. Cause sweetie, I love you, and I’ll honor you, but there’s no way I’m obeying you tonight. Not for even one second.”
“Well then, let the games begin.” He kissed her again and she melted into the bed, wriggling in pleasure.
“Maybe the first time I’ll behave, but after that, the gloves will be off. For now, just take me, love me, and hold me close.”
“Your wish is my command, my love.”
“Oh, you are a genie.”
She giggled as he started to tickle her. Demon traits or not, she would love this man for the rest of her life, and probably long afterward.
Read on for a preview of Melinda Barron’s Smoke, Fire and Desire, the fourth book in the Desires of the Lamp series.
Coming November 2008 from Resplendence Publishing
Smoke, Fire and Desire
Rhylie Dawson cupped her hands together then blew hot air into a small opening between her thumbs, trying to warm up her frozen digits.
“It’s colder than the North Pole here,” her friend Cassidy said, jumping in place and running her hands up and down her arms. “But I’ve heard this club is worth the wait.”
“Actually, if you’re looking for the coldest place on Earth, it would be more appropriate to say it’s colder than Antarctica,” Rhylie offered. “The coldest temperature ever recorded on Earth is there, -129 degrees Fahrenheit.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” Cassidy’s mouth hung open.
“No, I’m not. It was in 1983. Just a little bit of trivia.”
Cassidy stared at her, then shook her head. “I wasn’t talking about the temperature, Rhylie, I’m talking about you. We’re about to enter the hottest club in New York City and you’re spouting trivia like you’re on a game show.”
“Sorry.” Rhylie bit the corner of her lower lip. “I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”
“Yes, you are,” their other friend, Elise answered, putting her arm around her and pulling her into a half-hug. “But we still love you, even if you do read encyclopedias for fun.”
“That’s the whole point,” Cassidy exasperated. “She needs to have more fun than reading encyclopedias. Rhylie, it’s your thirtieth birthday for heaven’s sake. Relax and enjoy yourself. Let’s get you laid tonight. That’s why we all have separate hotel rooms, so we can have sex with men we picked up from this very bar.”
Rhylie’s eyes strayed to the unobtrusive banner above the door: The Cave of Pleasure. “Right, sex with strangers. Do you know what the rate of STDs is in this country? Do you? It’s—”
Cassidy held up her hand. “Don’t. You. Dare. Now you listen to me, I left a huge pack of condoms on your night table, and I expect to see at least one of them used by tomorrow morning. Make him double bag it if you’re so nervous about disease.”
“You’re so crude,” Rhylie said, smiling in spite of herself. “I’ve never had sex with someone I just met.”
“You’ve only had sex with one person,” Cassidy leaned in to whispered the last words, “and that was four years ago.”
“I can’t believe you’re throwing that in my face. I never should have told you.” Rhylie looked at the line in front of them, and the people lining up behind them, wondering who had overheard her friend.
“If you’d told me sooner than last night, we would have made this trip sooner. Sweetie, please, trust me on this. Just one good screw, and then I’ll let you go back to learning useless trivia that you can bore people with when you’re in a nursing home.”
The words slammed into Rhylie’s chest like a freight train. “It’s not all useless. Some of it comes in handy, like right now talking about the weather. It kept the conversation going, didn’t it?”
Cassidy’s eye-roll hurt, taking residence right next to the idea she’d spend her golden years repeating trivia to people who didn’t give a damn about her or her facts. Her heart started to pound and she fought for breath. Any second now, she would hyperventilate and they would have to call the paramedics.
Rhylie pulled at her blouse in a useless effort to loosen it from her throat. Someone, or something, had taken hold of her windpipe and squeezed, hard.
Cassidy gave her a puppy dog look “Just promise me that you won’t sprout statistics on popular dance moves to the first guy that asks you to dance.”
“I promise,” she wheezed out, trying to take a deep breath and tugging a little more on her blouse. Is this what she’d become? A scientist who didn’t know how to relate to people without a spreadsheet in front of her? How had this happened? When had this happened? Why had this happened?
She opened her mouth and gasped for air. “Ack.”
“Sweetie, you okay?” Elise patted her on the back. “It’s not as bad as she makes it sound.
Yes, it is. That’s why I spend eleven hours a day at work, then come home to take-out and the remote control. “Ack.”
“Rhylie?” Cassidy put her hand on her arm. “Breathe, breathe, it’s okay.”
“Ack
.”
A vision of herself in a nursing home, sitting and starting out the window took shape in her mind. The woman next to her would be telling about how she’d slept with the prince of some foreign country, or climbed the Great Pyramid despite the ban that was in place. She would turn to Ryle and ask about her life.
“I studied global warming, but never found a solution. And, I can recite all Scarlett’s lines in Gone with the Wind, backwards. Want to hear?”
“Rhylie!” Cassidy shook her arms and Rhylie’s eyes widened, staring into to the concerned faces of her two friends, and the three men standing in front of them. “Does someone have a paper bag?”
“No. I’m fine, it’s all right. I’m just cold and it got to me.” She bit back a spiel she could recite about the effects of frigid weather on the body.
“Let’s go back to the hotel,” Elise said, moving toward the street and waving her arm for a taxi.
“No.” The line was moving now, and Rhylie pushed on her friends. “We’ve waited this long, and I bet we get in pretty soon. I want to do this. It is, after all, my birthday.”
“Why yes it is,” Cassidy said in a booming voice. She turned to the bouncer who was watching them intently, his eyes fixed on Rhylie. “It’s my friend’s thirtieth birthday, can we go in now so we can par-tay?”
Rhylie blushed as the crowd started to chant, “Let her in, let her in.”
The bouncer continued to watch her, then a woman appeared beside him as if out of nowhere. She had dark hair and penetrating eyes. She and the bouncer continued to look at Rhylie intently. Nervous, Rhylie shifted her gaze away. When she looked back, the woman was motioning for them to come forward.
“Come on.” Cassidy grabbed her arm as the crowd yelled, part in pleasure, part in protest.
When they reached the front, the woman stepped toward them. “Hi, I’m Anya. Who’s the birthday girl?”
“She is.” Cassidy hugged her close. “We’re from a tiny town in Maine, and we came here to celebrate her big day. We hear this is the place to be.”
“It is,” Anya replied. She gently touched Rhylie’s arm and a zing of warmth spread through her.
To Rub, Honor and Obey Page 10