Argh, stop it!
I couldn’t fix what I’d done with regrets. The best I could do was learn from my mistakes, so I would never make the same ones again. I made a silent promise to act like a rational adult from now on, not like a temperamental toddler.
Rational thoughts had to prevail over raw emotions.
After placing all the passports back in order, I turned back to the briefcase. I didn’t want to look anymore for fear of falling apart, but I had to. This new me needed to push aside fear in order to act.
The next thing to catch my attention was an iPhone. I didn’t expect it to come on when I pressed the home button, but it did. And, to my surprise, the battery indicator read 100%. I frowned at it. Magical phone? No password was required, so I perused around. I checked the calendar first, but it was empty. Next, I tapped on the camera and gasped. There were several photos of me, ones I’d never posed for, just like the passport pictures.
In one image, I sat on the swing at the old plantation house the first day we’d visited. In another, I wore a green gown and stood under the tree canopy at Oak Alley Plantation. A more recent photo showed me sitting on a bench by the Riverwalk, feeding a flock of gray pigeons.
Every single image depicted a special moment I’d shared with Faris. Moments I would never forget, and apparently, neither would he. Not if he’d held these perfect images in his memory and had used magic to transfer them into the camera.
I flicked a finger across the screen, hoping to find pictures of Faris. There were none. The only photos I had of him were a few blurry ones taken with my phone. The thought made me extremely sad. What if I never saw him again? Were those grainy images and the passport pictures the only reminders I would have left?
I pressed the home button to leave the photos and my sad thoughts behind. Instead, I pulled up the “Notes” application. It filled the screen with the digital image of a yellow pad. I froze when I was greeted by a single note titled “My Dear Marielle.” I held my breath as I noticed the date and time. The message had been created right after the explosion. I was right. Faris had used the rose trick as a distraction so Akeelah wouldn’t notice the stray bit of magic he’d used to leave this message behind.
I took a deep breath and, after opening the note, I read.
My dear Marielle:
I want to start by asking for your forgiveness. I hate to part from you and cause you pain. But I see much clearer now and finally realize this is something I must do.
Akeelah would pursue us forever to get what she wants. We would never find peace, and I don’t want that for you. I want your happiness and safety above all else.
I have tried to figure out her purpose and have imagined many terrible scenarios. She’s a monster with a deep disregard for human life, so whatever she’s after can’t be good for anyone. I had tried to ignore that, tried to believe the threat would not spread beyond us, but I was wrong and selfish.
So, whatever evil she’s after, it falls upon me to stop her. I don’t know if I shall succeed, but it is my duty to at least try. Maybe I can convince her to abandon her scheme. If that fails, I might be able to discover an obstacle, a trap, a weakness, anything that may help thwart her.
For your part, please remain safe. Be vigilant and, if you find an opportunity to slip away unnoticed, do so. I will find you, no matter where you go. We had hoped to depart together, and instead, I’ve gone and left little of comfort behind. However, I will not part without offering what little I can. Please accept my pledge:
I hold, in my heart, three words meant only for you. It is my promise that one day they will grace my lips. And I will whisper them over and over, as I kiss your hands, your forehead, your lips. And I will shout them from the top of the world, until you grow tired of hearing them.
These three words and more, I promise you.
- Faris
I fought the bittersweet tears that welled up in my eyes. Familiar emotions surged within me and crashed against one another. Helplessness resurfaced, the same kind I’d felt when Zet had forced me to wish Faris away. That day, I made a choice between saving Maven and losing Faris forever. This time, the sacrifice was the same, but the choice wasn’t mine. And it wasn’t fair. The blank faces of a world full of strangers didn’t matter to me. I wanted Faris. I wanted to love him and prove to him that he would always be enough. No matter what.
Desperate to hold on to something, I clung to his promise, the same way I once held on to the hope of cursing Zet with my last wish. I reminded myself that Akeelah couldn’t hurt Faris. Whatever tricks she may try against him, he had his wits to counter her with. Besides, the promise to come back would give him purpose. He never broke a promise. He would do everything within his power to keep his word.
He’ll come back. He’ll come back, I repeated over and over, trying to convince myself this was true, refusing to admit that I had no idea what Akeelah could do to him.
I reread his note several times, wishing he’d explained some of the terrible scenarios he’d imagined. He’d made it sound as though Akeelah meant harm to the entire human race. And why not? She was crazy and evil.
With a sigh, I slowly set the phone back in the briefcase and suddenly wondered where mine was. Had I left it in Quebec? Lost it when I fell in the lake? I shook my head, frustrated. Something else to add to my list of worries. Or not. I took Faris’s phone and pocketed it, then stood and paced in front of the sofa, my thoughts spinning in different directions.
I heard Dad in the kitchen, banging a pot. I always knew when he was the one cooking, because—instead of stirring his concoctions—he attacked them furiously with the utensils. I suspected he was preparing his specialty: Spaghetti A La Roberto. I smiled, thinking of store-bought sauce doctored-up with Cajun spices and andouille sausage or hot dogs, whichever he happened to find in the fridge. And to think I’d come close to losing him in the fire, all because of Akeelah and her hateful scheme.
What if she tried something again? How could I trust her word to leave us alone?
The answer was simple: I couldn’t.
Faris had left to buy me peace and safety, but I couldn’t have either, not as long as she was free to roam the world, which meant . . . forever. She was immortal. My life compared to hers was a mere whisper in the roaring magnitude of time. Faris was right. Someone had to stop her.
I plopped down on the arm chair, holding my head between my hands.
“Everything okay?”
I looked up. Dad was standing by the door, looking worried. “Not really.”
He walked into the room and sat on the arm of the sofa. “Yeah, not even cooking is helping me get rid of this . . . restlessness. Stuff like this is bound to drive a man to the bottle.”
I glowered at him.
Dad put both hands up and gave me a lopsided smile. “Just a joke.”
“Not funny.” Not given his newly-gained sobriety.
“I guess not.” He sighed. “Are you hungry? I made spaghetti with extra spicy sauce.”
“Sounds good. Thank you.”
I would eat some of Dad’s food, and then . . . I would do something. I didn’t know what, but I was determined to figure it out, because living scared for the rest of my life simply wasn’t going to work.
Nope.
Even magic could use a little help.
17
Faris
“The girl is at his house.” Andy pointed at me, lips curled up in disgust. “She was crying her eyes out, wah-wah.” He scrunched up his face and rubbed his eyes, giving the appearance of a snotty toddler. I’d have wished my Djinn powers away in a heart beat, just so I could be human and punch him in the face.
Andy was kneeling on the lavish Persian rug in front of Akeelah. She now sat atop a stack of pillows, legs crossed at the ankles. She’d positioned herself in a far corner of the warehouse that now looked as gaudy as a harem room. Colorful curtains hung from the high ceiling and trailed down to the floor. Dozens of cushions in silky fabrics of red, bur
gundy, deep yellows and purples lay strewn on the rug. For my part, I sat away from them, atop a wooden crate.
“You promised to leave her alone,” I spat.
“Oh, don’t worry, Persian Prince Lover.” Andy cast a derisive glance in my direction. “Your pretty little girlfriend will be fine. That’s why we’re keeping an eye on her, to make sure nothing bad happens. My friend Mack is watching her very closely. Great guy that Mack. You should meet him. Two hundred and fifty pounds, six-foot three, big pork-chop sideburns, doesn’t bathe quite so regularly, but he’s a big charmer. You’d like him. His friend Rick, too.” Andy laughed, throwing his head back.
Akeelah smirked, letting her hatred spill and expand through the large open space. Andy shuddered and swallowed thickly. My stomach twisted.
Mack and Rick, two criminals for sure. I jumped off the crate and started pacing in front of it, pondering what to do.
Akeelah rose to her feet and placed a heavy hand on Andy’s head. “Good boy.”
He managed to stretch his lips into a trembling smile, clearly trying to sort out the conflicting signals. Invisible, bone-seeping, heart-shriveling hatred and verbal praise weren’t everyday combinations.
“Now, let’s get to work. Bring out our first volunteer, Andy,” she ordered.
“Yes, Dark Lady.” Akeelah’s pet jumped to attention and rushed out, almost tripping over his own two feet.
My eyes followed Andy and stayed on the door even after he’d left. Emotions surged through me, far stronger than any Akeelah had been able to elicit before, in spite of her efforts.
“You’re afraid of my pet,” Akeelah said with a delighted laugh.
Andy was deranged, capable of anything, and posed a real danger to Marielle. Of course I was afraid of him.
“I should have realized that earlier.” She shook her head. “Good to know.”
She padded softly across the carpet. The tiny bells at her ankles tinkled. Her long, white hair, arranged in thousands of thin braids, swung lightly with every step.
“Andy’s special, isn’t he?” she asked. “I’m simply delighted by Dross like him. He enjoys chaos and mayhem. But most of all he enjoys causing it, especially when it involves hurting others.”
“You have found a kindred soul. He’s as despicable as you.” I leaned casually against the crate, hands in my pockets, eyes trained on my shoes, desperately trying to get my emotions under control.
Andy returned a few minutes later, pushing a tall, thin man into the warehouse. The man had tan skin, thick black hair and a prominent hook nose. He wore a linen shirt and pants that must have been white once. For an instant, his brown eyes shifted from side to side like those of a scared weasel, but when he spotted Akeelah, they sparkled with something like joy.
He rushed in her direction. “Djinn Queen,” he said in Arabic, adopting a servile position on the rug. “I awaited your summoning with great fervor. I’m ready to do your bidding.”
“Of course you are,” Akeelah said, walking past him, sparing only a contemptuous glance his way. “I found him, and other men like him, among a sect in Eritrea,” she said, turning to me. Their members worship Djinn and properly understand that humans are nothing but the leftovers of the Creator’s original forging. I had known of the sect’s existence for centuries, but never guessed its members would one day be good for something. I have many of them at my disposal.”
Akeelah marched between two rows of crates. “Come,” she ordered.
I followed her at a distance. When she reached the center of the warehouse, she moved her hands in a parting motion and forced several crates out of the way. They screeched against the concrete floor and formed a circle around her. With a snap of her fingers, a light came on overhead.
Andy joined her, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. The Eritrean trailed behind, walking with jerky movements on his long, skinny legs. I remained behind.
“You are required to join us, Faris. Don’t make me wait,” Akeelah growled, still in Arabic. Andy cocked his head to one side, looking confused.
I approached, my features concealed under the shadows of the crates in my path. I stopped just as the cone of light from above touched the tips of my shoes.
The center of the circle shimmered as a metal table with wide wrist and ankle straps appeared. At the sight of the cold piece of furniture, the Eritrean began to chant under his breath. His song was one of devotion and spoke of the bounties his sacrifice would bring him—nothing more than an attempt to quell his mortal fears.
“No need to be afraid,” Akeelah said in a motherly tone. “You have a small price to pay compared to the reward. Immortality, not to mention power, will soon be yours. You give so little in exchange.” Her tone turned harsh. “A life as an insignificant as an insect’s. Let me hear no more from you!” And with that, the Eritrean flew up in the air and fell upon the metal table. The leather straps slapped around his ankles and wrists immobilizing him. A gasp died at his lips as they were sealed shut.
I gaped, confused. How was she able to do that?
“Ahh, that felt good,” she said. “And don’t look so appalled, Faris. He gave me permission to do with him as I please. It provides some very satisfying leeway. I just wish his consent went as far as making it possible for me to end his life but, for that, I have Andy.”
She addressed the Eritrean again and, with mock concern, asked, “Are you comfortable? We wouldn’t want you to hurt more than necessary.” She sneered. “Stupid humans! Never listen to their instincts. Take notice, my pet, when your blood runs cold, urging you to flee, you listen. Don’t agree to anything, especially when someone offers to trade your mortality for eternal awareness. I assure you, it’s not for the faint of heart.”
Oblivious to her Arabic words, Andy waited by her side. His eyes were huge, reflective orbs as he stared at the prone Eritrean with a psychopathic grin of anticipation on his lips. He didn’t look at all like the type of man who would trade his ability to torture and kill for a harmless, eternal existence.
He bit his fingernails, one after the other, spitting between nibbles. “Can we get started?” Twitchy fingers hid his yellowed teeth.
Akeelah nodded.
Ecstatic, he rushed to the back of the warehouse.
With measured steps, Akeelah walked to the head of the metal table and looked down at the Eritrean. His eyes swiveled upward to look at her and filled with pious devotion.
A moment later, an intermittent squeaking began and soon Andy reappeared, pushing a metal cart topped with an assortment of stainless steel instruments. He rolled to a stop next to the Eritrean, snapped on a pair of latex gloves, and picked up a scalpel.
The sharp, little knife shook in his hand and caught the light from the lamp above. “I—I’m ready,” he stammered, brimming with excitement.
“So, enlighten us, Faris,” Akeelah asked. “How do we save this man’s life?”
“I’ve already told you. I can’t help you.” I couldn’t tell her what I knew—not to save one man’s life. He was sacrificing himself willingly. It was his choice, and I wouldn’t risk everything to save someone who would so recklessly give his life away.
“You did mention torture was involved, didn’t you?” Akeelah gave one nod in her pet’s direction.
Eagerly, Andy seized the Eritrean’s hand and pulled on it, forcing the leather strap further up his forearm and exposing his wrist. The man stiffened, turned his face away. Andy licked his lips and lifted the scalpel. Hand shaking, he touched the sharp instrument to the Eritrean’s skin and slowly increased the pressure.
“You will sacrifice this man in vain,” I said, trying to appeal to a sense of decency I knew all too well wasn’t there.
“No, my dear Dross Lover, you will,” Akeelah said. “It is in your power to save his life, but you choose not to.”
“You stubborn monster! Are you not listening to me? I am not a magus. I don’t know how to transform human souls into Djinn!” I shouted. It was true. I knew
the words of the spell and what was required, but I didn’t know how to accomplish it.
“Understand this, Faris, you won’t save this man by denying me this knowledge. Even if you truly don’t know how to transform his soul, he will still die, and you will bear witness to his death and many more. I have scores of men awaiting the privilege to serve me, just like this one. When I’m done with them—if you still insist in denying me what I want—I shall order your pet brought here, and her blood shall flow together with that of the innocent lambs that came before her. And it will all be your fault.
“I have no love for Dross, Faris. None whatsoever. If these men cannot become my army today, their pain and death will satisfy me well enough. And in the end, whether you help me or not, I will get what I want. I have all eternity to figure it out, and I won’t give up. Your brother was proof that what I want is possible. Nothing will stop me now.”
Akeelah turned to Andy. “You may proceed at your leisure.”
“Yes, Dark Lady.” Andy flicked his wrist in a cutting motion.
My magic surged, then flew in Andy’s direction, headed straight for the scalpel. I don’t know what I hoped to accomplish, but it was in vain, because Akeelah sensed my power right away and blocked it.
“Your weak magic is of no use here,” Akeelah mocked.
Undeterred, I aimed the brunt of my powers toward the instrument cart and released them. Akeelah counterattacked, coloring her magic blue. As our energy sources collided, she triggered a glittery explosion of gold sparkles.
“Child’s play.” She laughed.
The Eritrean moaned in pain. Andy had, by now, dug the scalpel deep into the man’s wrist. Bright red blood stained Andy’s gloves and dripped onto the floor.
“Stop!” I screamed. “Consider your soul, Andy. You will condemn yourself. Do not kill that man. He’s innocent.”
Andy’s response to my entreaty was a quick slash to the man’s inner elbow. The Eritrean bucked, his face contorted in a silent scream behind sealed lips.
If magic wouldn’t help, then . . . I charged in Andy’s direction.
Two Hearts Asunder (Djinn Empire Book 2) Page 11