Filling with pleasure at the sight of the spectacle, she walked down a street awash with blood. Bodies lay broken on the sidewalk, faces to the heaven, foreheads both marked and unmarked. They were dying in equal number and gruesomeness, and it was as poetic as she had hoped.
Shots rang in the distance, one or two streets over. Akeelah walked away from them, down Decatur Street, her eyes feasting on the beautiful display. Andy walked silently two steps behind her, quiet for once. She was sick of looking at his scrawny face, but she could well imagine his delight at the scene. He’d had his fun with those useless Eritreans. This was a step above—far more rewarding.
Blood dripped in front of her from above, a plate-sized puddle forming on the sidewalk. She lifted her gaze to the wrought iron balcony above. A woman was draped over the railing, her arms dangling, her red hair cascading in waves. She was naked from the waist up.
It was as close to a work of art as a human being could ever get.
As she worked her way through the carnage, she found her mood improving. Faris and his Dross couldn’t hide forever, nor would they want to now that they knew the girl’s father was Akeelah’s prisoner. Sooner or later, they would have to come for him.
She turned abruptly on her heel. Andy had stopped several paces behind her and was looking up at redhead with a strange look on his face. His expression changed before Akeelah could put a name to the passing feeling she saw there.
He rushed to her side and smiled up at her. “Yes, Dark Lady?”
For a moment, she thought she noticed something worthy of attention, but the moment was short-lived, and what she needed from him was far more important than the sensibilities of any of her slaves.
“Go back to the warehouse and guard the prisoner. He has been left unattended. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“Your wish is my command,” he said and disappeared from sight, his magic leaving a repulsive scent in the air.
Akeelah erased him from her mind and kept moving slowly toward the sounds of battle. She arrived at a battered intersection a few minutes later. A car had crashed into the coffee shop on the corner. The striped green awning with the words Café du Monde printed on it had collapsed on top of the vehicle. Tables and chairs lay broken around it.
There were bodies, too—a larger number than she’d encountered on her short walk so far. The sight was extremely satisfying, more so than watching the murderous actions of her bastard army had been in the beginning. The thing was: her half-djinn couldn’t refuse her commands. They were slaves to her will. Humans, on the other hand, had free will, and yet . . . this was what they chose to do.
Mere paces away, in front of Jackson Square, the place where she’d marked her first soldiers just two nights ago, a group of humans fought.
Akeelah approached hidden behind the shimmer of invisibility, wishing to observe without their knowledge. She positioned herself by one of the carved lampposts that demarcated the square’s front entrance.
On the grounds, fifty or so individuals still fought. They didn’t seem as if they would last much longer, but surely they would provide a small measure of entertainment.
No weapons were involved in this fight, making it nothing but a big brawl of claws, fists and teeth.
To illustrate the observation, a brunette wearing a pair of cutoffs and half a t-shirt passed by, dragging another female by the hair. The assailant wore Akeelah’s mark on her forehead as well as a deranged look in her eyes. The other woman, a much smaller specimen with long blond hair, kicked and screamed for someone to help.
No one came.
Everyone was otherwise engaged.
Two men stumbled toward each other, faces bloody, fists raised weakly. They swung in a weak, drunken manner. One missed. The other one didn’t. The victor dragged his unconscious victim to the center of the square where there was a small fountain. He threw him head first into the red-tinged water to meet the same asphyxiating fate as ten others.
After holding his victim’s head under the water for several minutes, the man straightened and looked around through swollen eyes. When he spotted the women, he limped to the blonde’s rescue.
“That’s my wife,” he said and proceeded to backhand the brunette who screeched like an overgrown rat with every slap.
When Akeelah caught a flash of metal from the corner of her eye, she lost interest in the brunette’s suffering and switched her attention to a vagrant wearing a long, dirty raincoat. He had a knife and was surreptitiously approaching an unsuspecting victim.
His oblivious prey was kneeling on the ground, panting and holding his head between bloody hands. Without warning, the vagrant lifted the knife and repeatedly stabbed the moribund man in the back.
Akeelah smiled at the beauty of it all. The vagrant was not one of her marked, but it didn’t matter. He was doing exactly as she wanted.
They all were.
Suddenly, an unfamiliar warmth spread through her essence. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced, and, surprisingly, it felt good.
For a moment, she thought it must be happiness.
She didn’t fool herself, though. Happiness was for the weak, fools who were made content by a pittance.
Turning her back on the beautiful savagery, she moved away from the square. She’d have one of her slaves clean the mess later. She didn’t want the stench of Dross defiling her city.
As she left, it began to rain. She didn’t wish the clouds away.
33
Marielle
“Where is my brother?” Zet asked again, the question directed straight at me.
My heart beat erratically, pounding against my ribs so hard that it felt as if it would break out from its cage. The taste of fear filled my mouth, and it was terribly familiar.
Memories flashed in front of my eyes: my hand crushed under his shoe, my lungs aching from the lack of oxygen as his magic strangled me, pain scorching my every nerve as—at Akeelah’s request—he tortured me in the desert.
I shook my head and took a step back.
He can’t be here. He can’t be.
Zet came a step closer. “Marielle, where is Faris?”
“Get away from me!” I said, words barely squeezing through my tightening throat. Abby rushed to my side as if she could do something to protect me. Maven took a stand, blocking Zet’s path. They were deluded if they thought they could defend me.
Zet stepped back and looked Maven up and down. “Maven, right?” he smiled a crooked smile, running a hand through his black hair. “I enjoyed being you for a bit, I believe.” He looked at Samuel confused. “Or was it you?”
Maven ignored his insolent comment. “How did you . . . ? I thought you were supposed to be trapped.”
“I’m here because she,” his gaze returned to mine, “talked to me.”
Everyone looked in my direction. “I . . .” I didn’t know what to say. Did this mean Zet had forgiven himself and Faris? “You . . . you heard me?”
“Loud and clear.”
“I didn’t think you could.”
“It’s not like I was dead. I was . . . right there.” He clasps his hands behind his back and waltzed through the kitchen, making an inventory of those present. He looked so much like Faris and his mannerisms were so similar that it made me ache inside. “Not the welcome I was expecting.” He stopped, turned on his heel, and faced me again. “So are you going to tell me where he is? I’d like to see him, talk to him.” His tone changed toward the end. There was something like anticipation in it.
My lower lip trembled as I tried to muster the strength to say the words. “He . . .” I couldn’t. I turned away and gripped the edge of the island.
“Will somebody tell me what’s going on?” Zet asked.
Abby touched my elbow. “Elle, maybe he can help find Faris.”
“Find him? Where is he?” Zet demanded.
“He can’t help.” I turned and faced him again. “He’s just as useless as we are. Aren’t you?”
“I suppose I am.” His lips barely moved as he spoke.
“What are you guys talking about?” Abby asked.
“I think she means he’s not a Djinn anymore,” Maven said with a sigh of relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing.
“Not really an issue, I hope,” Zet said. “Though, right now, I would really, really like to know where my brother is. It’d really, really like to talk to him. There is . . . much I need to say to him.” His brown eyes filled with complicated emotions that I was too overwhelmed to understand.
“He was taken by a demon.” The words tumbled out of my mouth at once, tripping over each other, and it hurt as if someone had pried them out of with pliers.
“Taken by a demon?” he repeated dumbly.
“Yeah. And, once more, he’s got you to thank for that!” My voice rose, fueled by anger and frustration. It was unfair to blame Zet alone. Faris and I had played a bigger part in bringing this chaos about, but I was too lost in my fury to care.
“The world you promised Akeelah is here.” I went on, too out of control to stop now. “And she’s well on her way to building her Djinn Empire. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
But I had done this, too. Was I proud of myself?
My own words felt like blades on my skin, cutting, hurting, ripping me to pieces. Tears spilled down my face. The weight of my actions was too big to carry. Too big.
Zet seemed on the verge of screaming back at me, but he pressed his lips together and held his venom back. For a moment, at least.
“I wasn’t even here,” he said after a deliberate inhale. “And I never told Akeelah what she wanted to know. I didn’t intend to, either. Contrary to what you may believe, I’m not crazy. I was just . . . blind and full of anger toward my brother. It seems you’re bent on finding someone to blame. Why is that?”
It was his turn to cut me with his sharp words which, to my dismay, sounded like truth.
So it all came down to Faris? To me? To our feelings for each other?
Oh, God!
Could one love end the world?
I nearly fell to my knees, overtaken by guilt and grief.
Oblivious to my turmoil, Zet continued. “But I’ve had time to think. Enough to see the truth. What happened with Cala wasn’t my brother’s fault. It was mine.”
“Well, too late! He’s not here to hear how sorry you are. And if you’d like to find someone to blame for that, you can go ahead and blame me.”
I tore out of the kitchen, crashed through the front door and ran from the house, past the line of magnolia trees and through the weed-covered field beyond. A light rain fell with steady determination.
I didn’t stop until my lungs hurt and my legs gave out. Soaked and exhausted, I collapsed on a patch of grass, hugged my legs and pressed my face to my knees, crying.
The tears didn’t stop until there were no more, until my eyes were so swollen I could hardly see.
When I began to shiver in the cold breeze of twilight, I stood and walked in circles, a million thoughts parading through my mind.
The sound of water trickling captured my attention at some subconscious level. My feet stopped moving in circles then, and led me in a straight path. Soon I came to a small, bubbling creek nestled between two thick lines of trees.
I knelt and dipped my fingers in the water. It was cold. Its sharp bite reminded me I was alive, even if the numbness in my chest made me doubt it.
Still alive. Still alive.
But for what? I was useless. I couldn’t help Faris or my friends, couldn’t even stop Gallardo, not even with Abby and Maven’s help. What chance did I have against Akeelah? I couldn’t help anyone.
Suddenly shocked by a realization, I slowly rose to my feet.
I wasn’t useless to everyone. There was someone I could still help. Someone who, in my grief for Faris, I had relegated to the back of my mind.
Dad.
I could still help Dad.
34
Marielle
The windshield wipers beat furiously. I leaned forward and, through the rain, squinted at the dark metal buildings outside. Faris had said Akeelah’s warehouse was near the airport, but there were hundreds of them in the area. I’d been such a fool to think that I would be able to find it.
I stopped the car and stared out the window, the rain and my tears blurring the street. I thought of standing in the middle of the road and screaming the monster’s name, but she probably wouldn’t come—not now that I wanted her to.
Nothing was ever that easy.
After my realization by the creek, I had walked back to the house. I never even went inside, just took the Porsche and drove away. The rain had been pelting by then, so they never heard me leave. I’d been worried they would try to stop me, but what had my unnoticed escape done for me? Nothing. I wasn’t any closer to finding Akeelah here than I’d been by the creek.
Or maybe I was.
I laid my hand on the horn and pressed it. The sound was high-pitched and—after a couple of minutes—extremely maddening. I didn’t release it—not until my head was pounding, my ears were ringing and someone materialized in front of the car.
Well, apparently, when it came to shitty luck, I was a winner. I should have known. I got out of the car and into the wet night. My clothes and hair were soaked anew.
“Who do we have here?” a male voice asked.
I squinted at the dark shape silhouetted by the Porsche’s bright headlights. I should have been afraid, but I was beyond that. What is there to fear when you’ve lost everything that matters, and you’re more than willing to throw what’s left away?
The figure approached, boots clicking on the pavement. The man was tall and thick. There was something familiar about the way he carried himself. I looked around as if expecting something more.
Normally, this would have been a busy roadway, but it was eerily empty now. For an instant, I felt as if I were the only human left alive and had to remind myself of my friends and my father. The world wasn’t empty, not by a long stretch. It was only my own world that felt that way.
“Take me to Akeelah,” I said, my voice steady and full of courage.
Apparently, stupidity can fuel many things, even bravery.
When he had come close enough to see his features, a thrill of recognition passed through me. I stepped back, surprised. It was the man Akeelah had sent after me the day Andy blew up the Treasure Chest Casino. This scumbag had chased me through the mall, heedless of any witnesses. Now, he was one of Akeelah’s half-djinn.
“Well, if it isn’t little miss pain in the ass,” he said, his face slowly shifting into something feral. It seemed he hadn’t forgotten how I’d made a fool of him and his kidnapping friend. He rubbed his nose and glared at me as if remembering the briefcase I’d smashed against his face.
“Who’d have thought such a soft little morsel would land in my lap just like that?” He slapped his thigh and laughed. “Lately it’s been all fun and games, but this,” he threw his head back, guffawing, “this is rich!”
My gaze flicked toward the door handle as I judged my chances of getting away. The glance was nothing but a useless instinct, though. I might have been able to escape from him before, but he’d been a man then, not a magical creature. Today, I stood no chance.
Suddenly, he had me pressed against the car, his body pinning me down. I gasped and tried to push him off me, but he felt as heavy as if he were made out of cement.
He put a hand on my neck, then slid it to the back of my head, threading his finger into my hair. His mouth was inches from mine, and I couldn’t move.
“You’re a cute little bitch, ain’t ya?” he said in a husky voice that reeked of something stale.
He pressed a hand to the side of my leg and, with a heavy touch, slid it to my waist. “I fancied a taste of you since I laid eyes on you. Now I reckon I’m gonna get my wish.” He chuckled at his own joke.
“Get y
our hands off me, you bastard.” There was authority in my voice. I was counting on one simple fact: Akeelah wanted me. If I was wrong, maybe things would end before I could help Dad.
“Oooh, I’ve always liked them feisty. But no need for name calling, the name’s Mack, babe.” He pressed himself against me with more relish.
“Take me to Akeelah,” I said.
Mack paused for a moment, considering me. After a dismissive shrug, he forced a kiss on me, thrusting his tongue inside of my mouth. I gagged.
He grew angry and grasped my face with one huge hand. “You think you’re too good for me.”
It was hard to talk with him squeezing my face the way he was, but I managed. “I don’t, but I’m sure Akeelah does. And when she finds out you didn’t bring me to her straight away, she won’t be happy.”
There was a slight tightening in his eyes that let me know I was right. Lightning flashed in the distance, followed by a thunderclap.
“She wants me more than she wants anybody else. Well, maybe she’d prefer Faris, but since she can’t hurt him, I’m the next big thing. If you know her, then you know she doesn’t settle for spoiled goods.”
“She won’t even know if I have a little taste.” He leaned forward to kiss me again.
“I’ll make sure she does,” I spat before his mouth could reach mine. “You might be able to physically hurt me, but you can’t affect my mind. If you do hurt me, I’ll tell her how you ignored her orders to bring me in and boasted about being able to do whatever you want.”
“Hey!” He pulled away. “I didn’t say that.”
“And you think she’ll believe you? Then you don’t know her as well as I do.” I cocked my head to one side and said in an innocent voice, “I wonder how she’ll punish you for that. Whatever she decides, I’m sure I’ll enjoy it. Faris said she puts you all in time out.” I made air quotes. “I bet that’s fun.”
“Shut up, little witch.” He abruptly wrapped one of his gargantuan hands around my neck and squeezed. Air wheezed through my windpipe as I gasped. My knees went weak from the pain, and my ears and eyes threaten to pop.
One Wish Away: Djinn Empire Complete Series Page 66