She was the only one in the captain’s cabin. Definitely a demon’s trick.
Another deep breath calmed her initial panic. According to prophecy, Fate had tied everybody’s hands in a web of free will. Whoever, or whatever, stood behind the resonant voice could not force her obedience. Her hands shook as she pushed herself back under the table’s protective shell. Her eyes closed and she inhaled slowly to calm herself. Mentally repeating the word Tamahaq, she reminded herself of the djinns battled and defeated. A descendant of Lilith, the daughter of the second Saria, and a warrior in her own right, she had survived two years of warfare against those who enslaved and sold Amazigh and Africans to the Spanish. Amina bint Daoud ben Mohammed would not succumb to demonic trickery now.
Her fingers reached up to stroke the single braid that brushed her right cheek. “Who are you?” Relief flooded her when her voice didn’t quaver.
“Uriel.”
Uriel. One of the Fallen, and Satan’s most trusted ally.
She pulled from memory the lessons Raphael had taught her and her twin. Brother to Gabriel, Uriel had been a Guardian, and one of the best. When Satan rebelled, Uriel fought at his side and suffered his fate, expulsion.
“Why are you here?”
Uriel’s laughter filled the cabin. “Were you not listening, Amina? It is time for you to accept your destiny. Come join your Consort. Do not force me to use another method of persuasion.”
It was obvious the fallen angel was accustomed to obedience. His command seeped into her awareness the way honey glided down a parched throat, the faint tug of compulsion latching her body. Instinctively, she reached for her knife, then recalled its absence.
“You do remind me of Lilith. Defiant to the end,” Uriel said, smugness dripping from his tone. “Even if you had your dagger, do you believe it will save you from an archangel’s wrath?”
His voice became ice-whipped. “Do not mistake me for the demons you’ve fought.”
Uriel’s weary sigh, laden with exasperation, rubbed against Amina’s hearing. “I truly do not understand how a creature with the gifts you possess can behave so stupidly.”
Her fingers went to her neck but didn’t touch the metal band that encased it.
“Frustrating, isn’t it? You can blame me for the check. The lovely collar you wear was my contribution.” Uriel chuckled. “Demons had no idea the effect gold has on Lilith’s descendants. Makes them so much more pliable and obedient. Now do come along, child.”
Amina inhaled and the acrid smell of gunpowder seeped into her lungs. For a few seconds she had forgotten the battle being waged outside the cabin door. Her hand went to her forehead and rubbed it gently. Her day was not going to end well. She’d either perish fighting one of the Fallen or an English cannonball would sink the Spanish galleon and everyone on it.
“Enough,” Uriel snapped. “Decide Amina bint Daoud ben Mohammed. Take Mephistopheles as your consort or you and the humans you fight to save will die this day. This is your only chance to save your life and the lives of your precious people.”
She heard the aggravation in his voice. “How do I know you’re not a demon and your words are nothing but lies?” Infusing as much scorn as she could into her tone, Amina said, “No need to answer since I refuse the demon king. Tell him and your master, I would take an Englishman before I’d mate with Mephistopheles.”
“You dare defy me?”
Uriel’s thunderous question rattled her already unsteady courage and nervous sweat pooled between her breasts. She had no idea what angelic wrath might be like since Raphael was the only archangel she knew. Not once had he been angry with her or punished her, even when she’d been at her truculent best. However, if Uriel’s menacing tone was any measure, the fallen angel was nothing like Raphael.
No, I am not.
Dread congealed at the base of her throat at Uriel’s intrusion into her thoughts. Swallowing hard, she managed to stammer, “I will choose my mate.”
The table above her shook. At the sound of splintering wood, Amina gripped her arms and pulled her knees up to her chin.
Maybe challenging an angel, especially one of the Fallen, wasn’t the wisest thing to do, she told herself as her fingers dug into her flesh.
The table rose from the floor and she reached for the leg closest to her. Her fingers locked about air as an unseen force gripped her legs and pulled her body toward the cabin door.
“Release her, Uriel.”
Relief flooded Amina when, after a harrowing second, her body was again hers to control. She scooted backward, ignoring the burn of friction against her thinly covered buttocks. Her arms flew up to cover her head when the table slammed to the floor. Probably a foolish impulse but the unbroken piece of wood was a momentary if fragile sanctuary.
“Raphael.”
“Uriel. I assume your visit has a purpose.”
The civility in their voices surprised her, especially since the two were mortal enemies.
There is no purpose to rudeness, Amina.
Raphael’s words shunted into her thoughts and she bowed her head. His approval and silent admonition to hold her tongue filled her. As much as she hated others fighting her battles, this was one she couldn’t win without her Guardian.
“Your interference changes nothing, Uriel,” he stated. “The decision to mate is Amina’s, not yours or Satan’s.”
Satisfaction flowed through her at Raphael’s declaration. Of late, it seemed every male she encountered was determined to control her destiny. Frustration and ire rode her as she fought off these attempts to interfere in her life.
Angels, demons, humans — they were all the same. When Uriel demanded that she obey, she wanted to scream that she alone controlled her destiny. Instead, she swallowed her rage and cowered.
The table shook above her and her squeal provoked the fallen angel’s laughter. “In ignorance, she will choose a human,” he said sarcastically. “She has no idea who or what she truly is. And you servant to Lucifer, you would allow her to die in an attempt to save some useless human from slavery? Her value to the prophecy is greater than she can possibly understand.”
“No matter, it remains her choice,” Raphael stated. “You and Satan know that as well as I, Uriel. Your attempt to coerce Amina has failed. She has chosen her life mate.”
Amina shuddered. What did he mean she had chosen her life mate? She hadn’t even met the man. How could she choose?
Raphael’s voice become otherworldly, powerful in its coldness when he said, “Fate has placed Amina and her twin Asiya under my guardianship. Attempt to force Amina’s will again and I will intervene.”
Uriel’s fury slithered across Amina’s senses before his voice rose above the din of battle. “Do you think I fear you or my brother? I, too, am a Guardian.”
“You forfeited that title when you rebelled. I have no need for your fear to perform my duties. Amina has chosen.”
Uriel snorted and changed the topic. “Where is your master? Burrowed in some hole? Or is he dead and the Hierarchy keeps the myth of him alive to shore up their rotted pillars?”
“If Lucifer were dead, your master would not seek to bind Amina to Mephistopheles. Return to Satan and inform him she has declared her choice.”
The table shook violently. One of its legs splintered and Amina prayed the heavy wood wouldn’t collapse. Although, if her body was crushed beneath a pile of wood it would put an end to all talk of a union between her and the demon king.
2
An explosive crackle of shattered wood reverberated in the cabin seconds before Amina heard a voice scream a warning about the mast. Minutes later the same voice shouted, “Rendición.”
The Spanish captain had surrendered.
The thick knot of dread that had begun unraveling at Uriel’s departure quickly rewound itself at the pit of her stomach. The Fallen’s intrusion had been a momentary distraction from the dangers on the other side of the cabin door. From what she gleaned when the Spanish sailor raced
in to warn the Spanish Viceroy de Zarate of the impending attack the galleon was no match for the swift and well-armed English warship. The sailor’s disjointed speech about a Phoenix had her questioning his sanity. No ship could outrace the wind or vanish into air and the sailor called El Diablo was probably no demon, just a very good pirate captain.
The Spanish sailor must have made the sign of his faith at least six times while he spoke. His terror was heartfelt despite de Zarate’s derision. After listening to a short fierce engagement between the two men, Amina no longer doubted the sailor’s alarm. It was just a matter of time before the galleon fell.
Since the cry of rendición, Spanish cannons had fallen silent. She could hear English voices giving orders amid the occasional clash of swords accompanied by a pained cry. The English pirates had begun their search for wealth.
Her forehead resting on her knees, Amina admitted she’d been stupid to leave Asiya and join the small band of Imohag warriors attacking Moorish slave caravans. Their successes had fed their confidence, which made them an easy target for the Moor’s ingenious trap. They had been captured and she found herself onboard de Zarate’s galleon sailing to Cartagena in the New World.
From the moment she’d been carried onto the ship, she had been protected by Marut’s spells and de Zarate’s orders for the Spanish sailors to keep their distance. The men had been told to satisfy their lust on the enslaved. This didn’t stop the lustful glances or muttered words that followed her whenever she stepped on the deck. But at least she had been protected, even from the viceroy’s desires since de Zarate was demon-bound.
She wondered about her new captors. The English were Spain’s enemies. In a perfect world, that would make them her allies. She glanced around the damaged room. She wasn’t in a perfect world. Could she expect them to act any differently than the Spaniards?
Amina’s fingers squeezed the bridge of her nose. What made her swear to take an Englishman as her life mate? Had she just jumped from the boiling pot into the fire? Would Fate hold her to such a careless vow?
She absentmindedly brushed her thumb along the metal collar around her throat. A stinging sensation pierced her hand and she snatched her finger away. A curse formed on her lips and immediately died. It served no purpose to damn the fallen angel. Like her, he had made a choice.
It was her folly that dumped her in this muddle. Perhaps one day she’d remember to think before she spoke. If her sister had been with her . . . Siya?
Mina?
Joy fluttered inside her when her twin slid into Amina’s awareness. Siya. Where are you? The English have captured the galleon. Uriel . . .
She fell silent and raised her mental barriers as a faint irritation pricked at her thoughts. She waited, then felt it again. It echoed in her mind like a light scratching at a door. Siya, leave now.
Her tongue jutted between her lips until its tip was exposed. Air brushed the rough wet surface and she tasted the essence of her invader. Male and dangerous. He was powerful as well.
Amina inhaled deeply, taking the rich potency of her intruder into her senses. He tasted of heat, like a too hot corner of freshly baked bread. As if her belly understood the trail her mind followed, it growled.
Mina?
Swearing softly, she mumbled, “Why doesn’t Asiya bint Daoud ben Mohammed ever listen?”
Did you not hear me, sister? I have an intruder scratching like a dog at the door. Please go away. We will talk as soon as I squash this insect.
She shoved her twin from her mind and focused on her invader. His presence floated on the surface of her thoughts, a faint greenish light. To her surprise she sensed no immediate threat, only curiosity. He seemed to be as intrigued by her mind as she was by his.
She trailed him, fascinated by the elegant way he traveled across her awareness. His movement was smooth and assured, skimming the surface the way dolphins frolicked in the ocean’s waves. Whoever he was, he excited her in unexpected ways. Maybe, she had finally met an opponent worthy of her.
A surge of energy rose up as the invader stumbled on a trap in her mind. Emerald light flared brightly then dimmed. He’d not given up, merely exercising caution as he continue his exploration. Her traps made it difficult for him to latch onto pieces of her memory yet, despite his frustration, he continued to wander. She silently crowed her delight at each failure.
Her exultation, however, was short-lived when an inquisitive push tested the strength of one particular barrier. She pushed back and agony spiked behind her eyes. The intensity of the intruder’s power was unlike any she’d encountered. It took several seconds for her to ease the pain. Once she was able to think, she knew she had to get him out of her head.
She tentatively reached out and an emerald bolt of lightning struck, leaving her incapable of retaliation. The strike had come swiftly and unexpectedly, a searing burn that countermanded her efforts and sent pain shooting across her forehead.
It was an excruciating torment unlike any she’d experienced before. She had no words or thoughts to describe what she felt as she clenched her teeth. Her heart raced and her breathing became erratic. Air ratcheted through her chest before it exploded in short-lived gasps. Recalling the method her mother used to calm her, Amina gently rubbed her temples and repeated the Tahaggart word for peace. With each soft utterance, her heartbeat slowed. The air in her lungs found its usual rhythm and the sharp pins stabbing her mind gradually faded.
Amina.
She jerked as the whisper of her name flowed through her. Her mind’s eye watched her invader approach memories that would reveal her to him. She felt exposed and weakened while he pilfered her surface memories. When he neared memories of her sister, she had to stop him. No one could learn the truth of Asiya’s gift. Amina flung a whip-like jolt at him and held on tightly. Her panic overrode the tortuous punishment inflicted by the gold collar as she attempted to wrest control of the intruder’s mind.
Raphael’s voice slid between her and the emotions spinning out of control. Be at ease, Tamahaq. He will not harm you. As you will discover, he is like you and your sister.
Amina’s fist went to her chest, rubbing to ease the sudden tightness, while the trembling fingers of her other hand grabbed the metallic ring around her neck. She squealed and jerked her fingers from the collar. She took a deep breath and considered the archangel’s words. The intruder was like her and her twin.
Her mouth twisted into a pursed grin. She and Siya weren’t exactly human. The few humans who witnessed the use of their powers called them unnatural and an abomination. She swallowed the familiar anger at the memory of them being driven from the Imohag camp in Mali. Since that day, no human possessed knowledge of what she and her twin were.
Amina gently stroked the space between her eyebrows to ease her discomfort as she puzzled Raphael’s declaration about the Englishman. Was the intruder Imohag descended? It was possible. She had met one or two Imohag men who had the ability to disguise themselves, although none were full shifters.
In all her travels, however, she hadn’t encountered an Imohag who could read a person’s mind. That quality seemed hers alone. Amina scrunched up her nose and shook her head. Her intruder was far too powerful. That could mean only one thing. Either his mother was Tamahaq or he had an angelic sire. Excitement shot through Amina. She and Siya were not alone.
Her headache gone, Amina set her mind to solving the puzzle of her intruder. He was English since his thoughts came to her in that language. He also had to be on board the galleon. She briefly wondered if he were an enslaved then quickly dismissed the idea. He was far too powerful to be enslaved.
She sighed. If only she could read his mind, learn the extent of his power. His ability made hers appear insignificant. He had entered her thoughts with such stealth and gleaned what information he could so skillfully she hadn’t known he was there until much too late. But to what purpose? Why had he chosen her? What did he hope to discover? She wasn’t Spanish since she hated the Spaniards as much as
she despised the Moors.
Trying to sort out her confusion, Amina didn’t notice her invader weaving his presence inside her until she took a breath. Awareness of him exploded everywhere. In her blood, skin, bones, and muscles. He was so deeply embedded his taste and smell were as familiar to her as her twin’s. There was nothing she could do to stop his invasive exploration. He glided as smooth as silk across her mind, his touch an unnerving but pleasurable sensation.
She ignored her body’s unexpected response. Instead, she tracked his awareness as it examined hers. His skill left her in breathless awe and she wondered who trained him so thoroughly. He effortlessly unraveled each new trap she wove as he searched. Stunned, she watched her traps dissolve and reform as if never disturbed.
“How?”
His amusement preceded his reply. Emotions. You constructed them with emotions.
She cursed, not realizing she had spoken the question aloud. “No other djinn has ever gotten past them.”
An arrogant chuckle floated into her consciousness. Because they’re not me.
“Get out.”
Furious, Amina lashed out. She started to smile when her mind witnessed his reactive flinch. Her smile faded when pain arced across her forehead. She groaned softly, praying her invader was too preoccupied with his own agony to notice hers. After a few seconds, her pain eased.
She really needed to stop making stupid decisions while she wore Uriel’s gold collar. Closing her eyes, she said, “That was a warning shot. The next will sink you. Who are you, djinn?”
Forewarned is forearmed, and you know I’m no demon.
“Demons are quite capable of masquerading as humans.”
Her intruder’s irritation spiked. Feigned ignorance does not become you.
“Why are you in my thoughts? Do you have a death wish?”
Fate's Match Page 2