Two Hearts Asunder (Djinn Empire Book 2)

by Ingrid Seymour

  “You damn bitch,” he moaned, staggering blindly in my direction, blood streaming from his nose into his mouth.

  I threw the briefcase at his head. He ducked. I ran.

  “Come back here,” he yelled, his voice muffled by his beefy hands.

  I sped along the department store’s front wall and rounded the corner out of sight. In the distance, I spotted the entrance where I’d parked the Bugatti. I pressed forward, awkwardly shifting my backpack around to dig for the keys. Once I got a hold of them, I checked on my pursuer. He was too far back. I would make it.

  I weaved between several lanes of parked cars. An old lady exited her Buick, hung a purse across her forearm and started toward the entrance. I ran past her and the dirty look she gave me, squeezing between two minivans.

  Faris’s slick, black Bugatti sat in the next row, parked between a beat-up white van and a VW Bug. I slid between it and the van. Hands shaking, I pressed the unlock button. There was a satisfying click as the lock popped.

  I made it!

  Biker Dude was still two rows behind, lumbering forward, beer gut exposed as he pressed his black t-shirt to his nose.

  A sudden whoosh sounded behind me. I jumped, heart lurching. The van’s door slid open. A hand came over my mouth, an arm around my waist. I flew off my feet as I was yanked backward. I screamed against the clammy palm that squashed my lips. Only a muffled sound escaped. The Bugatti’s key fell to the ground as I fought to peel the nasty hand away.

  I kicked, tried to bite, but the grip was too tight. I thrashed, jerking from side to side, desperate to get my feet back on the asphalt. My abductor huffed as I began to split out of his grip. I redoubled my efforts. The tips of my toes touched the blacktop. I jerked again and managed to free myself.

  The split second of freedom ended as an immobilizing chokehold clamped around my neck from behind. Biker Dude appeared in front of me, clutching my ankles and lifting me off the ground. The blood on his hands smeared across the cotton fabric of my jeans.

  “You’ll regret breaking my nose, little bitch,” he said as they shoved me into the van.

  22

  Akeelah

  All night, a stream of magic flowed from Akeelah as she kept watch on Faris, making sure he didn’t try to escape.

  He did not, didn’t even try to use magic to find out if the girl was okay.

  Akeelah sat on her cushions until late morning, testing his patience, daring him to leave the warehouse, to give her a reason to snatch his pet. Nothing.

  He was such a coward.

  Though that bode well for her. He had probably come to his senses and was ready to finally talk.

  Hours earlier, ready to set things in motion, Akeelah had snapped her eyes open to a new day and sent part of her essence to an adjacent building, where Andy rested. Her magic was powerful enough to still keep an eye on Faris, though she doubted he’d try anything after staying put all night.

  Andy’s quarters were illuminated by a bare light bulb hanging from an equally bare electric cable. A low cot sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by three long tables littered with a variety of objects: food wrappers, knives, a musty t-shirt, guns, an old radio, computer parts, books, an open can of tuna fish.

  Human filth.

  He lay face down on the cot, still wearing the same clothes and shoes from the day before. He snored loudly through his half-opened mouth.

  “Wake up,” Akeelah commanded.

  His eyes rolled open and, for a few seconds, swiveled around in a disoriented manner. When he gained his focus, he sprang to his feet like a jack-in-a-box.

  “Yes, Dark Lady.” He made a huge effort to stand up straight and open his eyes as wide as they would go.

  Such pathetic, solicitous attention.

  Akeelah appraised him, swept the length of his body from head to toe, trying to find traces of the deranged individual who had left the warehouse last night. On first inspection, he seemed to be in acceptable shape.

  “Call your friends,” she ordered. “Tell them to snatch the girl.”

  “Oooh, yeah!” Andy shook with a shiver of delight. “I’ve really been hoping to . . . get to know her.”

  “I want her kept in a safe location, away from Faris. You will not harm her. The same goes for your friends. Understood?”

  Andy looked crestfallen, his shoulders falling visibly. He gave a half nod.

  “After you call them, eat your breakfast and clear your mind. I need you in your best shape and behavior.”

  “Breakfast?” Andy asked, scratching his head.

  Akeelah snapped her fingers and a tray full of food appeared on one of the tables. Danishes, coffee, eggs, bacon, toast, butter—enough for him to stuff himself until he popped like a greedy tick. She gave him a pointed look and stretched a long, black finger toward the food.

  “Yes, Dark Lady. It looks . . . delicious.”

  “First call your friends, then eat.” She wished she could do it herself, but the girl had already spoken the command that made Akeelah’s magic useless against her.

  After Andy made a quick phone call, Akeelah had returned to Faris. His deadline to make a decision had expired. It was time to find out what he would do.

  “Good morning,” she said sarcastically. “Have you an answer for me?”

  Faris was laying atop a crate, one foot dangling over the side. He sat up and gave her a stern look.

  “I will not tolerate any more indecision,” she admonished. “Andy’s associates have your pet. I suspect this piece of information will encourage your collaboration.” Capturing the girl would be an easy feat for Andy’s rough friends. She didn’t need to wait for confirmation.

  Faris jumped off the crate and landed on the floor, hands clenched, head low, spine curved like some sort of feline. His eyes blazed with anger. Akeelah scoffed and turned her back on him to illustrate how little she thought of his posturing.

  “I’m all for the theatrics,” she said. “But honestly, they don’t work on me. Good practice, though.”

  “That was not the deal.”

  “Well, you didn’t hold true to your end of the bargain. I don’t see why I have to.”

  “Leave her out of this.” Faris’s voice came out as a deep growl.

  “You had a chance to give me what I want. Patience is not part of my nature. You should know that by now. Your pet is under our care at an undisclosed location. I give you my word no one will hurt her. Just remember, my word has an expiration date.” She cackled, becoming accustomed to the rusty sound. She decided that, even though it wasn’t part of a Djinn’s nature, laughing had its uses. It conveyed her meaning so clearly sometimes.

  “I’ve told you I don’t know how the process works!” Faris barked.

  Akeelah paused and reconsidered her new strategy. It was possible that pushing the Dross Lover too hard, too fast might backfire. If something happened to the girl, he would never give her the knowledge she sought. Maybe sticking to her original plan was a better option. She’d waited millennia already, what were a few more days?

  She considered this for a moment, then decided that waiting wasn’t really a choice anymore. Forcing Faris to watch Andy kill every single Eritrean at their disposal would not yield the desired results. At first, she’d thought it would be enough—especially considering the way he’d prostrated himself in front of the Dross he’d rescued from the boat. But, even though the Eritrean’s death had affected him, it hadn’t been sufficient.

  No. Her course of action was clearer now. The girl was the fastest way. If it was her life in the balance, nothing else would matter to Faris. She was the best bargaining chip. Promising her safety had gotten him here. Threatening her life would now do the rest. And if, in the end, the girl died, then Akeelah would be sure that Faris knew nothing, indeed.

  I will kill her. I will kill her. I will kill her.

  She projected her thoughts and hatred as Faris judged her. He would find no hesitation in her now that her mind was made up. Aft
er a moment, his menacing expression changed to one of dismay.

  “I’m glad you understand,” she said.

  “Let her go. Let her go and I’ll work with you to figure this out. I’ve told you I don’t know exactly how the process works, but I can try.”

  “You don’t know exactly how it works?” she asked. “I thought you didn’t know at all. Now it turns out you do.” She tsked. “How am I supposed to trust you when you lie to me so blatantly? I cannot negotiate with you after this. Shameful.” She threw her head to the side in mock disgust.

  In the next breath, Faris’s magic surged in full force, traveling outward in all directions, searching and probing their surroundings.

  Akeelah let him and, after a long minute, said, “she’s not within your magic’s reach. You think me an idiot? She’s far away and, even if you leave to try to find her, you won’t. I wouldn’t waste my time and energy, if I were you. There’s only one way you can spare her and see her again. Act now or be on your way.” Akeelah made a sweeping motion with one hand and indicated the exit. “I’ve grown tired of you and your sickening infatuation with that worthless creature. I will find my answers elsewhere.”

  “Let me see her,” he demanded. “I need to see she’s all right. Then we—”

  “I believe you are confused, my dear Faris. You don’t get to dictate conditions. I repeat, either do as I say or leave.”

  His face fell in defeat. For a long moment, he stared at the floor, jaw twitching. Finally, he mumbled, almost inaudibly. “You need two vessels.”

  Akeelah’s entire essence tensed as she focused on Faris’s lips. She listened with all that she was.

  “The first one,” he continued, “will hold the victim’s blood. The second one, his soul.”

  Akeelah quivered. “What else? That can’t be all.”

  “It isn’t. You also need to . . . conjure a demon. But I have no idea how to do that. I’ve told you I can’t possibly make this work. I don’t know how. Please, let me see Marielle. Please.”

  His pleas drowned in Akeelah’s euphoria. She laughed tersely. “I,” she said with rabid emphasis, “I can conjure a demon. I know just how.”

  The magnitude of this revelation together with Faris’s expression made her laugh genuinely for the first time. He hadn’t expected her to know. He’d taken a gamble, and he’d lost. For someone who’d lived for millennia, he was naïve—never mind that he’d lived trapped in a stone tablet the majority of that time.

  “Tell me everything right now,” Akeelah demanded. “Every last detail. If you want to save your pet, start from the beginning.”

  23

  Marielle

  As they forced me inside the van, I felt as if the world was collapsing in on itself. This was it. Someone had me in a chokehold and Biker Dude had me by the legs. I was done for.

  An unspeakable nightmare was waiting for me wherever they planned to take me.

  Biker Dude ducked his head and stuck it into the van. He was coming in. I froze, all the will to fight evaporating, turning me into nothing but a limp doll. The hold around my neck slackened a fraction. I wasn’t the only one who thought the battle was over. Something stirred inside of me. The jerks were ready to claim victory.

  Well, I couldn’t let them do that. They hadn’t beaten me. Not yet. There was fight left in me. My survival instinct kicked into gear again. Bucking like a wild horse, I jerked my legs and managed to ram my new shoes square against Biker Dude’s mouth. His head snapped backward and slammed against the door frame. He lost his balance, tottered for a moment—half in and half out of the van—then finally fell out the door and crashed against the Bugatti.

  Using the force of the impact to push backward, I body-slammed the man behind me as hard as I could. A stream of air rushed by my ear, followed by a sharp gasp. The hold around my neck loosened, and I slipped out of his grip. Quickly, I crouched, ready to jump out. Outside, Biker Dude righted himself, shaking his head, trying to get his bearings. He blinked, looked at me with crazy eyes, and charged.

  With a jolt of adrenaline in my every vein, I sprang from the floor, leapt over the center console and landed in the driver’s seat. The tinkle of keys in the ignition caught my attention. Lighting fast, I pulled the keys out, opened the door and hit the ground running. This time, I didn’t look back and just ran as fast as my legs would allow, backpack bouncing against me.

  I reached the adjacent road and boldly crossed it. Tires screeched on the blacktop. A minivan swerved as I leapt out of the way into the other lane. I got to the median unscathed. Traffic on the other side was space, so I crossed without stopping.

  I kept running and finally took a chance to glance over my shoulder. Biker Dude was standing across both lanes of traffic, trying to find a lull in the fast flow of cars. In the parking lot, the Bugatti was pulling out, heading toward Biker Dude. I cursed, put a hand to an unexpected stabbing pain in my left side, and pressed on.

  A city bus passed by me. I looked ahead and saw a bus stop. I ran on, panting and feeling my pace slow. Hydraulic brakes exhaled as the bus came to a stop. I was still half a block away. A few people climbed in.

  “Wait!” I yelled.

  I had just reached the back of the bus when it lurched forward, getting on its way, and could do little else than slap the back panel with a heavy hand, hoping to alert the driver. Breathless, I bent over, despair sinking in.

  Brakes hissed again. The bus stopped.

  Thank God!

  I ran to the door, climbed in and thanked the driver a hundred times. I rummaged inside the backpack for a fare, but all I had were credit cards and travelers checks.

  “Um,” I started to apologize.

  “Don’t worry, child,” the driver said.

  After thanking her again, I walked to the back of the bus and looked out the rear window. I spotted the Bugatti doing a U-turn up the road. By the time the bus made it to the next stop, they would be on me. It was like no matter how hard I tried to escape, I was destined to end up in their clutches.

  I looked around, desperation like a clawed animal on my back. My eyes darted in all directions, trying to figure out an escape. There was nowhere to hide, and I doubted anyone in the bus would risk helping me.

  The inquisitive brown eyes of a guy my age caught my attention. By his expression, it seemed he’d sensed something was wrong. He left his seat, walked to my side and looked out the rear window.

  “You okay?” he whispered.

  I shook my head. “Two nasty guys are following me. I don’t know who they are.”

  He scanned the vehicles driving behind the bus.

  “They’re in that little sports car.” I pointed at the Bugatti.

  “Wanna call the police?” he asked, going for his phone.

  “No! If the police get involved, they’ll probably want to question me, and I have no time to deal with that. There’s somewhere important I gotta be.” I could only imagine trying to explain to the cops that the two thugs worked for the evil Djinn who had kidnapped my boyfriend.

  The guy shook his head. “You should let me call the cops, but it’s your choice. My stop is next.” He turned to leave, slinging his neon red backpack over his shoulder. The ugly bag was the same brand and style as the one I’d just bought.

  An idea hit me.

  “Wait, would you do me a favor?” I asked, giving him the most pathetic puppy eyes I could muster.

  “What?” he asked, looking doubtful, but not unwilling.

  I dropped my backpack to the floor and took off my hooded jacket. “Can you wear this for me?”

  He looked at the sage jacket doubtfully and shook his head, a bit of fear seeping into his dark gaze.

  “I need you to be my decoy only for a few minutes. Just enough to give me a chance to get away.”

  The bus’ brakes hissed as we came to a stop.

  “Please,” I pleaded.

  “O-okay.” He took the jacket. I helped him put it on and threw the hood over his head. Und
er the curious scrutiny of a few passengers, he slung his backpack over one shoulder.

  I gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank you!”

  He blushed and headed for the front door. Before exiting, he looked back, gave me a small wave and stepped off the bus.

  Walking closer to the back exit, I peeked through the rear window again. Biker Dude and his crony brought the Bugatti to a sudden stop behind the bus, jumped out, and chased after my brown-eyed rescuer, who was now walking at a clipped paced in the opposite direction. He was about my height, and the hooded jacket, jeans and backpack did the trick.

  My heart trapped in my throat, I held in place for as long as I could and leapt out of the bus only when the automatic doors began to close. As I landed on the sidewalk, I had a split second to notice Biker Dude grab my benefactor by the shoulders and turn him around. The guy dropped his hood and backed away from the men, acting surprised and putting his hands up in the air.

  Praying the thugs wouldn’t hurt him, I whirled and ran to the Bugatti. As I got in the driver’s seat, I found the engine still running. With my backpack still on, I shifted the car into gear, turned the wheel sharply to the left and swerved into traffic.

  The powerful engine revved like a beast and, in no time, I was ahead of the bus.

  “Hey you!” Biker Dude yelled when he noticed me. He and his sidekick ran like madmen, screaming curses and waving their fists in the air.

  I flipped them the bird and sped away, leaving them screaming and shoving each other.

  24

  Akeelah

  Another expendable Eritrean lay on the metal table. Andy stood by his side, suddenly looking panicked. Akeelah judged him from a distance. She hadn’t expected him to be a weakling. One simple death couldn’t have undone him. She had much more to accomplish. Delays were unacceptable.

  It doesn’t matter, she told herself. As soon as the first Djinn was molded from the filthy human soul of this Eritrean, Andy would be of no consequence.