Forbidden (The Djinn Wars Book 6)

by Christine Pope

  A nervous ache began in the pit of Jillian’s stomach. If the elders were here, that meant it wouldn’t be long before they passed judgment on Aldair and then returned to wherever it was they’d come from in the first place. Had they remained on the djinn plane all this time, or had they taken up residence somewhere on Earth as well…maybe in a nice chateau on the Loire, or possibly a multimillion-dollar mansion somewhere in the cliffs above Malibu?

  Not that any of that mattered. What mattered was that she might never get to see Aldair again.

  Two djinn entered the living room. Jillian recognized one of them at once — he was the slighter of the two djinn who had taken Aldair away from Cerrillos. The other seemed slightly older, although guessing ages had to be a dicey thing when it came to djinn. He was extremely handsome, with heavy dark hair drawn back into a ponytail at the base of his neck and aristocratic features.

  He was also frowning in such a forbidding fashion that Jillian couldn’t quite help shrinking back into the sofa cushions. After sending her a dismissive glance, he returned his attention to Julia and announced, voice thick with annoyance, “Dani has spoken with the elders. They told him they will not pass judgment in this instance, and so it is up to us to decide what to do with Aldair al-Ankara.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Aldair would never have called himself the patient sort, but this waiting was particularly excruciating. Yes, he had been confined to what usually would have been a comfortable enough space, a largish bedroom with a sitting area that looked out over the property’s lavish gardens, but he certainly was not comfortable now. Not with Murrah and Aziz leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room, watching his every movement with narrowed eyes.

  If only he had been able to see Jillian again, to comfort her and let her know how much he cared, no matter what happened. But he feared he most certainly would not be allowed to do such a thing. Most likely, he would be sent back to the outer circles, and she would be left to make her way in this world, alone again.

  His heart ached at the thought…but it ached even more at the worry that she would move on from this, that she would return to Los Alamos and pick up the threads of her life, decide that perhaps life with a mortal man would not be so bad after all.

  No. He would not allow himself to think of such things. There must be some way out of his current situation, even if presently he could not begin to guess what that escape might be.

  A knock came at the door, and Murrah went to answer it. Julia Innes stood outside, worry and consternation mixing on her lovely features.

  “Zahrias wants you to bring him to the living room,” she said. “There’s been a…development.”

  A development? What in the world was she talking about?

  He assumed he would find out soon enough. Murrah and Aziz flanked him as Julia stepped out of the way so they might all head out into the corridor. The three of them followed her, past walls decorated with art niches that showed off rare pottery and ancient paintings on pieces of native sandstone.

  And then they were in the living room. Zahrias was there, and his brother Danilar, but Aldair took them in with only a glance, for he spotted Jillian sitting on one of the sofas, Jillian, whom he had thought he would never see again.

  Sparing not a single thought for his “bodyguards,” he hurried forward, going to her. As soon as she spotted him, she rose and extended her hands. Even as their fingers twined around one another, he worried that Zahrias would give a command for Murrah and Aziz to haul him away from Jillian, but the command was never given.

  “So,” Zahrias said sourly, “it seems the lovebirds have been reunited.”

  At any other time, Aldair would have bridled at the disdainful note in the djinn leader’s voice. Right then, however, he cared only that Jillian was here, that he was able to look down into her sweet face and see the glow in her shining gray eyes.

  “Are you well?” he murmured. “How did you get here?”

  “I drove the Harley,” she said, smiling, although at the same time he thought he saw the glint of tears in her eyes. “Just luck that I didn’t stall the damn thing. But I knew I had to come for you — I couldn’t let them just take you like that — ”

  All words disappeared as he bent and covered his mouth with hers, tasted her sweetness. Ah, God, he had thought that he would never see her again.

  “Ahem,” Zahrias said.

  At once, Jillian pulled away from him, looking somewhat shamefaced as she glanced over at the djinn leader. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But after your men hauled him away like that, I was so worried — ”

  “Well, as you can see, your lover is hale and hearty. No harm has come to him.” Zahrias stopped there, an unspoken “yet” hanging in the air. “But Dani has something he needs to say to all of us. Or rather,” he added, “to the particular parties involved. Murrah, Aziz, thank you for your service. My brother and I will manage al-Ankara from here.”

  The two djinn didn’t argue, but merely bowed and blinked out of the room.

  “Very good,” Zahrias said. “Dani, if you would tell us all what you just experienced?”

  Dani wore a somewhat bemused expression, as if he was still coming to terms with what he must relate to the watching group. “As you requested, brother, I went to the palace of the elders in the otherworld. They still have their headquarters there, although I did see signs that at last they might be planning to remove here to Earth. At any rate,” he went on hastily, as Zahrias’ eyebrows lifted, apparently signaling his unconcern about the elders’ current abode, “I did have an audience with them, and explained the situation. I said that we thought they must come down here and send Aldair back to the outer circles, for of course it is only they who have the power to access that accursed region.”

  “And it seems their answer was not what we expected.” Zahrias’ tone was even enough, but he frowned with some fierceness. Clearly, he was not pleased by what the elders had said.

  “No, not at all,” Danilar admitted. He sent an uncertain glance at Aldair and then Jillian, as if attempting to determine whether they had had something to do with the elders’ capriciousness, although of course such a thing was quite impossible. “They expressed surprise that Aldair al-Ankara had been able to escape, but then, after conferring with the rest of his peers for a few minutes, Ibram, eldest of the elders, told me that if God had smiled on Aldair and allowed him to escape, then they would certainly not interfere with His judgment. He would not be returned to the outer circles, but allowed to remain here on Earth. Further, he said this was at its heart a personal dispute between the two al-Ankara brothers, and so it was for them to settle.”

  Hope sprang forth in Aldair’s breast at hearing these words. If he was allowed to remain here, then he at least had a fighting chance. He permitted himself a quick glance over at Jillian; her hands were folded in her lap, and she held herself very still, but he could see how her eyes had begun to shine, how some color had returned to her cheeks. She might not have understood all the ramifications of the news Danilar had just related, but she understood enough to realize that her lover had been granted an unexpected reprieve.

  “Settle how?” Zahrias asked then. The tension was clear enough in his voice. He did not like this ruling of the elders. No, he did not like it at all. “For Aldair and Jasreel have already met one another in combat on two separate occasions, and obviously being bested did not prevent Aldair from seeking his revenge time and time again.”

  Aldair opened his mouth to protest, then decided it would not do to argue that particular point once more. He would still contend that in their initial battle, Jasreel had cheated, and in their second confrontation, he most certainly had, by enlisting the aid of his Chosen. True, the elders had ruled her intervention fair enough, even though it certainly had not seemed that way to Aldair. But when he spoke, he attempted to sound as mild and unconcerned as possible. “I know that our dealings with one another have been…contentious. But please know that
I no longer bear any ill will against my brother. I do not wish to interfere in his life. I am more than happy to return to Madrid with Jillian and let all of you alone.”

  “Is that even possible?” Julia asked then, entering the conversation for the first time. “That is, Jillian is your Chosen, Aldair. That is one thing the elders are pretty strict about — any djinn who has selected a mortal as their Chosen must live within a community. Or am I missing something?”

  “No, you have missed nothing at all,” Zahrias said. “The rules are very clear. But how can we have you here among us, Aldair, when you have perpetrated such wrongs against your brother? And not only him, but also Aidan, the Chosen of Lilias, who was disfigured by Khalim.”

  “I had nothing to do with that,” Aldair protested. That was true enough, for he had not accompanied Khalim on the expedition that culminated in the ambush of Aidan and his hunting party. “But yes, I forget — guilt by association is enough for you, is it not?”

  Zahrias scowled, and Julia broke in before anyone else could speak. “I believe you, Aldair. Not because I am so firmly convinced of your innocence,” she added quickly, “but because Aidan would have told us if he had seen you among Khalim’s men. But Zahrias is right — there is a good deal of bad blood here in Santa Fe that has nothing to do with your feud with Jasreel.”

  An uneasy silence fell then. Aldair saw how Jillian looked from Zahrias to Julia and then over at Danilar, as though in an attempt to discover how deep this bad blood actually went. Some of the color left her face, but she lifted her chin and said, “I’m not going to excuse what Aldair did in the past. And yes, he did tell me the truth, so you can all stop thinking that he somehow misled me, tried to make himself look better to me. Because he didn’t. But still….” Her voice trembled for a second, and then she shook her head as if impatient with herself, and continued, “Isn’t there such a thing as forgiveness among the djinn? Is there really no chance that you can allow yourself to believe he might have changed, that he might want to make amends for what he did?”

  “Amends?” came a new voice from the doorway. “I don’t think Aldair understands the meaning of the word.”

  Aldair looked away from Jillian and saw Jasreel standing there at the entrance to the living room, Jessica Monroe immediately behind him. Jasreel’s mouth was tight with anger, and his dark eyes glinted ominously.

  This probably was not going to go well.

  Jillian had never met Jasreel, but she recognized Jessica at once and knew the man with her had to be Aldair’s brother. There truly wasn’t much resemblance between the two; if Jillian hadn’t known better, she would have said Jasreel was of Native American descent, with his shining black hair and dark eyes and warm brown skin, and Aldair didn’t look anything like that. But then, they were half-brothers. Maybe Aldair looked much more like his mother.

  Without really knowing what she intended to do, Jillian rose to her feet. Somehow she had to make all of these djinn see reason, understand that remaining mired in the past wouldn’t help any of them. “Hello, Jasreel,” she said. At least her voice sounded calm enough now, despite that betraying shake of a few moments earlier. “And hi, Jessica.” The other woman nodded, but she stood close to her partner, and her face didn’t reveal even a ghost of a smile. “I know you have every right to be angry with Aldair. I know,” she went on firmly, when it looked like Jasreel was about to open his mouth to speak, “because he confessed to me everything he’d done to you. And to you, Jessica. It was all horrible. But he’s truly sorry for what he did. And if the elders think he’s deserving of some mercy, maybe all of you should look for some mercy in your hearts as well.”

  “Is this true?” Jasreel demanded, not bothering to reply to her directly, but instead addressing the question to Zahrias. “The elders would not send him back to the outer circles?”

  “I fear not,” Zahrias said heavily. “It is a conundrum, for I know that none of us wish to go against the elders’ wishes. But at the same time, I cannot see how we can allow him to live among us.”

  Jillian watched this exchange silently, heart pounding as she hoped against hope that Zahrias and Jasreel would relent, but then she knew she could hold back no longer. “So what are you going to do? Put him in your own jail? Force him and his brother to fight again?”

  “I’m not sure you would have to force me,” Jasreel said grimly, even as Jessica laid a placating hand on his arm.

  “Look,” she said then, “this has come as kind of a shock to us. Can we just…have some time to think about our options?”

  “What options?” Jasreel replied. “Because the most logical thing would have been to let the elders put him back where he belongs, but since they apparently have allowed caprice to rule them in this matter, we’re stuck with having to figure out what we can do with him.”

  They were talking about her partner as if he wasn’t even in the room. Once again, Jillian could feel herself about to erupt, but Aldair forestalled her.

  “I know this is difficult for everyone,” he said. “Myself included, although I am sure you don’t wish to hear about that. If Jasreel desires to meet me in combat, I will do so. However, no matter how angry he is with me, I know he is not a killer. And yet I know that is what it would come to, in the end. It would appear we have no other options.”

  Jillian’s breath caught in her throat. Was Aldair really saying they had no choice but to have a duel to the death? She looked from Julia to Jessica, somehow knowing that it would have to be the women who stepped in here, who would need to be the voices of reason. Apparently even djinn had testosterone issues.

  “I don’t think we need to go there yet,” Julia said. Her face was taut with worry, but she sounded calm and assured. Then again, it was easy for her to stay calm. It wasn’t her lover’s life on the line. “Can’t we just, I don’t know, table this for now? I’m sure Aldair won’t mind if we put him somewhere overnight with a few guards keeping watch.”

  Judging by the slight alteration in Aldair’s expression, the way his mouth compressed, Jillian thought he would mind. But that was still better than having to go out into the plaza and fight a duel right then and there. She had a sudden incongruous image of him and his brother going after one another with rapiers, like something out of The Three Musketeers, even though she knew that the djinn probably indulged in a far deadlier form of dueling.

  “No, I do not mind,” Aldair said.

  “I think it’s a good idea,” Jessica put in. She, too, looked strained, and Jillian couldn’t blame her. Yes, apparently her partner had prevailed against Aldair in the past, but maybe Aldair hadn’t been desperate enough until now.

  After all, back then he had only been fighting for vengeance. Now he would be fighting for a chance to be with the woman he loved.

  In the end, they decided to put him in one of the cells under the former U.S. Marshal’s building, where not so long ago they had imprisoned Richard Margolis, the former leader of Los Alamos. Normally, those barred doors and walls of reinforced concrete would have been of very little use in keeping a djinn captive. However, it seemed the Santa Fe djinn had one of Miles Odekirk’s infernal devices in their keeping, and so they activated it and left him in the company of two human guards.

  The effects were excruciating. To prevent the device from affecting any other djinn in the vicinity, they had raised the power level, which in turn shrank its area of effect. Aldair had thought the outer circles bad enough, but this — this was like having every ounce of energy drained from him while his head buzzed as if filled with a thousand angry bees, and every inch of his skin stung as though being pierced by a thousand needles at once.

  Even more painful, however, was being separated from Jillian. She had begged to stay down here with him, but Zahrias would not allow it. “You will stay here as an honored guest in our house,” he said, “for you have done nothing wrong, and Julia says you are a good woman. But I will not give any comfort to Aldair by allowing you to remain in his presence.�
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  And so he had been hustled away and brought down here, and the device activated immediately afterward. The only comfort he could take was that at least it sounded as if they would treat Jillian well, would not hold his sins against her.

  One of the guards was a young blond man, his once-handsome face now marred by deep scars on both his cheeks. Seeing him, Aldair knew this must be Aidan, who had been maimed by Khalim. No doubt he would be a very enthusiastic watchdog. The other young man Aldair did not recognize. Not that it mattered. In his current condition, with the device hammering away at his very being, Aldair barely had the strength to sit upright on the cot in his cell, let alone make any kind of an attempt at escape.

  Nevertheless, he couldn’t prevent himself from speaking as Aidan approached the bars of his cage. “I had nothing to do with that,” Aldair said, gaze flickering to the scars on the man’s cheeks.

  “I know,” Aidan replied. He sounded far less concerned than Aldair thought he himself would, if he had been maimed in the same fashion. “All the djinn who were there that day with Khalim — their faces are burned into my memory. Yours isn’t one of them.”

  Even though Aldair knew that to be only the truth, he could not help but be slightly relieved. Yes, he had stayed back at the renegades’ hideout at Ghost Ranch that day, for although he had joined up with Khalim, he had no stomach for the sort of “hunting parties” that the leader of the rogue djinn enjoyed so much. But it would have been easy enough for Aidan to claim that Aldair had been there, so he might enact his own personal revenge.

  “Thank you,” he said quietly.

  The young man’s shoulders lifted. “I’m not excusing the other stuff you did. But I’m also not going to hold you accountable for the things you didn’t do.” He grinned then, the scars on his cheeks pulling in what looked like a most uncomfortable way. “Besides, I’m not the one who has to look at my face all the time. In the morning when I’m shaving, but that’s about it. And Lilias says she doesn’t care.”