“Lilias has a generous soul.” That, too, was only the truth. She was not a djinn Aldair had ever desired — partly because Khalim was a former lover of hers, and he had a long memory and a habit of holding grudges — but he could not deny the gentleness of her spirit. That was why she did not stay long with Khalim, and certainly why she had selected a Chosen. She would never have allowed herself to give up the chance to save even one life.
“She does.” Aidan’s gaze flickered down toward the untouched tray of food in Aldair’s cell. Yes, they’d locked him up, but they’d also provided a generous meal, for while Zahrias might be single-minded in his pursuit of justice, he was not a cruel man. “Aren’t you going to eat that?”
“I fear I do not have much of an appetite.”
“Still, you should eat.” A pause, and Aidan glanced upward, as if thinking of the world of the Santa Fe djinn, a hundred feet above their heads. “I have a feeling you’re going to need your strength tomorrow.”
Aldair couldn’t dispute that claim. He knew it was too much to hope that Jasreel would relent, would allow himself to set their differences aside. The last time he had faced his brother, they had squared off in an empty field a little outside the center of Taos. Would they do the same here, or would one of the open areas within the Plaza be sufficient?
And last time, he had been healthy and well. Now he would have to go up against Jasreel after spending the night being tortured by the device. If he was able to sleep at all, it would be a miracle.
“You are probably right,” he said, and forced himself to pick up the fork and spoon a few mouthfuls of the spicy pork dish — something called carne adovada — into his mouth.
After all, even a condemned man was allowed his last meal.
Jillian rolled over onto her side and stared at the soft moonlight coming in through the bedroom window. At first she had thought that was what had been bothering her, and so she’d turned onto her other side so she could face the wall. But sleep eluded her there as well. Of course it wasn’t the moonlight keeping her awake, but instead her jangled nerves. No matter what she did — breathing deeply, counting backward from a hundred, murmuring, “Go to sleep, go to sleep” over and over — nothing worked.
How could she sleep when Aldair might be dead in a few hours?
The horrible thing was, everyone had been incredibly nice to her. Danilar, Zahrias’ kind-faced younger brother, had blinked her back to Madrid so she might gather some personal items and a change of clothes, and fetch Patches as well. The dog hadn’t been too thrilled with being held tightly while Dani brought them back to Santa Fe, but he perked right up when allowed to explore the lovely gardens that surrounded the house Zahrias and Julia shared.
Now the dog was asleep on the rug next to her bed, with no idea that he might lose his adopted master the next day. Jillian wished she could find that sort of blissful oblivion, but she knew she wouldn’t be that lucky.
When she’d tried to pick Julia’s brain, to ask whether she thought Jasreel would go through with fighting his brother the next day, Julia had only shaken her head and said, “I really don’t know. Usually, Jace is a pretty forgiving sort. But this feud with Aldair has been going on longer than we’ve been alive. He might just be glad of a chance to end it once and for all.”
If she’d known Julia better, Jillian might have remarked sourly, “Thanks for the reassurance.” But she had the feeling that Julia was only trying to be realistic, didn’t want to sugarcoat the situation. The horrible thing was, no matter who won, someone else would lose. Jillian didn’t wish any harm on Jasreel and Jessica. After everything they’d been through, they deserved a little peace.
Problem was, she believed the same thing about Aldair.
So she spent the whole night tossing and turning, trying in vain to find a position that would be comfortable enough to allow her a little rest. She did doze off sometime around five in the morning, only to wake a few hours later at the rich scent of coffee drifting through the house.
Her bedroom had its own en suite bath, and so she went in there to take a hot shower and try to make herself presentable. She didn’t want to think that this might be the last time Aldair ever saw her, but if it was, she needed to make sure his final memory of her was a good one. The bathroom was equipped with a blow dryer, and also some makeup still in its packaging. Julia, of course. Somehow she’d slipped in that mascara and blush and lip gloss when Jillian wasn’t looking.
Or, more likely, had Zahrias zap it into the drawer from the nearest drugstore.
As she got into one of her sequined skirts and tank top, Jillian glanced down at her left hand. The gold band Jack had placed on her finger gleamed there. She’d never taken it off, not once.
Her heart seemed to seize, and she made herself take a breath. Then another. She had lost Jack. Now she might lose Aldair as well. But if the worst happened, she wanted him to know that she was his completely, that she’d finally let go of the ghosts of the past.
Very gently, she eased the ring off her finger and set it down on the dresser, then went back into the bathroom to brush her hair a final time. Afterward, she followed her nose and headed toward the kitchen. As she entered the room, she saw Julia there, but no Zahrias.
“He and Dani have already gone over to the Plaza to mark out the area for the duel,” she explained as she poured Jillian some coffee. Apparently noticing the stricken expression on Jillian’s face, she added quickly, “That doesn’t mean it’s a done deal. There’s still time to call it all off. But they wanted to be prepared.”
“Of course,” Jillian responded, voice flat. This didn’t feel real. Maybe if she kept telling herself none of this was happening….
But of course it was. The kitchen, with its expensive maple cupboards and granite countertops, was certainly real, as was Patches over in a corner, greedily crunching away on the kibble Julia had put out for him.
Julia didn’t say anything, only got up and put a couple pieces of bread in the toaster oven. How she’d figured out that was the only food her guest would be able to stomach, Jillian didn’t know. But Julia had always been like that. She took care of people.
After her makeshift breakfast was over, Jillian went back to her bathroom so she could brush her teeth. Julia had already offered to let Patches out into the yard, so he was taken care of for the immediate future.
And then she came to the door of Jillian’s room and said softly, “They’re waiting at the Plaza.”
The toast she’d just eaten congealed into a lump at the bottom of her stomach. “So Jasreel is going through with it?”
“It looks that way.” A hesitation, and then Julia added, “I am so sorry.”
Clearly, she didn’t think Aldair had much of a chance. As much as she hated to admit it, Jillian couldn’t help feeling the same way. She knew they’d used one of Miles’s devices to keep Aldair from escaping, so he must be a mess this morning. If he couldn’t defeat Jasreel when at the top of his form, how could he possibly hope to do so now?
And the thing was, she didn’t want anything to happen to Jasreel, either. He was not a bad person. If anyone should be facing Aldair out in the Plaza, it should be their bastard of a father. He was the one who’d started all this.
After making sure Patches was safely inside and had plenty of water, the two women headed out to the Plaza. Since it was only a few blocks away, they walked. The sun was warm, but the breeze surprisingly pleasant. Funny how much cooler it was here in Santa Fe, even though it lay only thirty miles or so from Madrid. But the elevation was a good deal higher.
As they approached the area designated for the duel, Jillian saw a large ring of people marking the spot. Her stomach tightened further, but she forced herself to pull in a breath. She was not going to allow herself to get sick here. No, she would hold it together and show Aldair that she believed in him, that somehow he would prevail. But that wasn’t right. She didn’t want either of them to prevail. She just wanted this all over, with everyone
still safe and able to live their lives.
Zahrias nodded at them as they approached. “We are almost ready. We are only waiting for Jasreel.”
Jillian glanced across the circle of onlookers and saw Aldair standing on the opposite side, flanked again by Murrah and Aziz. It seemed obvious enough that they’d been given guard duty because they were the two biggest djinn in the community.
Not that Aldair looked as if he was in any condition to attempt an escape. His face was drawn, deep shadows under his eyes that hadn’t been there the day before. It didn’t matter, though. He still looked handsomer to her than any man she’d ever known, and his bright blue eyes blazed with love and warmth as he gazed across the space that separated them.
“Can I speak to him?” she asked Zahrias.
“I fear not.”
“But — ”
“Really, Zahrias?” Julia interjected. At the moment, she didn’t appear all too pleased with her partner. “You’re not going to let them talk, even for a moment?”
His jaw hardened, but then he gave a reluctant nod. “One moment. And you will go with her, Julia.”
“Fine.” She turned and offered a reassuring smile to Jillian. “Let’s go. It’s better to do this before Jasreel shows up.”
All Jillian could do was nod. She had no idea what she would say to Aldair. He would recognize any words of encouragement as only that — mere words. She couldn’t do anything to help him. Right then, she wished she was a djinn, too, just so she could fight at her lover’s side. But while he’d lent some of his abilities to her, enough that she would heal if injured and never get sick, those abilities didn’t translate to striking down his enemies.
He did smile as she approached, and reached out to take her hands in his. “My love,” he said. A quick glance at the watching crowds, and then he shrugged. Before Jillian could respond, he’d bent and laid his lips against hers. Only a brief kiss, just enough to feel the reassuring pressure of his mouth, but that was still sufficient to send her blood singing.
“Aldair,” she whispered.
A brush of his hand against her hair. “Know this, Jillian Powell. There was only you. In this life, I have loved only you.”
Tears rose in her throat, choking her. Then Julia was laying a gentle hand on her arm, pulling her away, because a sharp pop indicated that Jasreel had appeared in the Plaza. He stood next to Jessica, who kissed him, a hard, swift kiss, before backing away into the crowd.
The last time she had seen him, Jasreel had been wearing human clothes — jeans and boots and a T-shirt. Now, though, he had donned djinn garb, a flowing open robe in a sky-blue shade, bright against his warm-toned skin, the pants several shades darker.
He raised his voice and called out, “Aldair al-Ankara, I will see you on this field of battle once and for all. Your wrongs are too numerous to list here, but all those watching know what you have done, and support me in this endeavor.”
Not all, Jillian thought fiercely, now back where Zahrias stood. She guessed that Julia had brought her there so the djinn leader could keep an eye on her.
Aldair stepped forward. They’d provided djinn robes for him as well, even though he’d been dressed for motorcycle riding when he was captured. Although he appeared straight and tall enough, Jillian could still see the weariness in him. He was in no condition for this fight.
And when he spoke, some of that exhaustion showed in his voice. “Jasreel, there is no need for this. You wish to fight a man who no longer exists.”
“I don’t think so, because I see him standing here before me.”
He wouldn’t give up. Jillian had been half holding her breath, hoping he would relent, but it seemed that centuries of conflict had finally worn him down to the point where all he wanted was an end. She didn’t know if she could even blame him. Or rather, she wouldn’t have blamed him…if the object of his ire was anyone rather than Aldair.
The two of them faced off in the center of the square. At once, a fierce wind began swirling around them, blowing in their hair, causing the silk of their robes to flap and billow. That wind took on a shape, coalescing into what looked like a miniature tornado, one that surrounded Aldair and caused him to stumble. Jillian sucked in her breath, frightened that he would lose his balance altogether. He had to be so weak after having that device beating on him all night….
But somehow he managed to remain upright, and even sent a second tornado spinning outward, headed straight for Jasreel. He raised both his hands in a blocking motion, however, one that deflected the tornado back at the one who had summoned it.
Aldair stumbled again, and this time, with both tornadoes bearing down on him, the force was enough to drive him to his knees. Jillian cried out, “No!” and began to take a step forward.
Julia caught her arm. “You can’t interfere,” she said, her voice soft but urgent. “I know it’s dreadful, but — ”
Right then, Jillian couldn’t have cared less about djinn rules, or what was expected of her. No way was she going to stand there and watch the very breath sucked away from the man she loved. She wrenched her arm from Julia’s grasp and hurled herself into the center of the fray, interposing herself between Aldair and his brother.
It was like being back in the outer circles. Her breath caught, and strangled, as the tornadoes whirled around her. Dimly, she heard Aldair crying out in protest, but she couldn’t make out the words. She couldn’t make out anything, except those blue, blue eyes of his, staring down at her, his lips forming sounds she couldn’t hear.
If she could have chosen one last thing to see before she died, it would have been his eyes. Her mouth curved in a small smile.
The world went dark.
Chapter Twenty
At once the tornadoes disappeared as if they had never been. Aldair, already on his knees, reached for Jillian’s limp body, cradling her in his arms. Above him, Jasreel stared down at them in consternation.
“Is she — ?” he began, and then stopped himself, as if he could not bear to hear the answer.
Aldair lowered his face to hers, kissed her sweet, sweet lips. Ah, yes, there it was — the faintest hint of a warm breath against his mouth. He shook his head. “She lives. But barely.”
“I — ” Again Jasreel hesitated, his stricken gaze taking in the woman in his brother’s arms. “She loves you. Truly loves you, enough so that she would interfere with our battle, even though she had no chance of prevailing. But she did not even hesitate.”
“Yes,” Aldair said, still holding her close, heart wrenched by the slack stillness of her features. “I cannot say that I deserve such devotion, for her heart should have been bestowed on a more deserving man. But there it is.”
From the crowd, a dark-haired mortal hurried over. He knelt on the ground next to Aldair and said, “I’m Miguel, the medic here. Could I see her, please?”
Reluctant as Aldair was to hand Jillian over, he knew that this young mortal would have a far better chance of reviving his beloved than he would. So he nodded, and allowed Miguel to take her and feel her pulse, then open her slack eyelids so he might peer into her eyes. At last he nodded.
“I think she’ll be all right. But we need to get her into bed so she can rest.”
Aldair nodded. Miguel stood up slowly, Jillian’s limp form in his arms. At once Julia and Zahrias hurried over. “Can you manage?” Zahrias asked.
“I think so, as long as I don’t have to take her too far.”
“To the La Fonda,” Julia said quickly. “It’s closest. I’ll come with you.”
The medic nodded and strode off toward a large building on the southeastern side of the Plaza, Dani moving swiftly to accompany them just in case Miguel needed some assistance. During all this, Jasreel had stood to one side, face somehow blank and worried at the same time, as if he didn’t quite know what he should do now. He barely acknowledged Jessica, who quietly approached and paused next to him.
“It is up to you to decide what to do next,” Zahrias said, turni
ng back to Jasreel and Aldair. “Shall you continue the duel?”
“No,” Jasreel said quickly, as if he had already made this decision, had come to his own inner conclusions.
Zahrias’ brows lifted in surprise. Astonishment flooded through Aldair — but also a certain wariness. Of course he longed for this to be over. But he could not allow himself to hope too much. “You wish to wait until Jillian Powell has been healed?”
“No,” Jasreel said again. His gaze flickered toward the djinn leader. “What she did — I never believed someone would sacrifice themselves for my brother. But she didn’t care. It was obvious that all she thought of was trying to save him.” He stopped there and ran a hand through his hair, a gesture Aldair recalled from the times in his brother’s youth when he had been uncertain or nervous. “If she could do that for him, then maybe she was right. Have you changed?” Jasreel asked then, voice hardening as he looked at Aldair.
“I would like to think so. That was what I tried to tell all of you. But please — I must go see Jillian.”
Zahrias’ eyes narrowed. “Is this some trick, so you might now attempt to get away?”
Rage flared in Aldair, overcoming his weariness, his worry. “Send guards with me, if you like! But I must be at my Chosen’s side!”
“Let him go,” Jasreel said then. He still wore that slightly flummoxed expression, as if he could not decide how he was supposed to feel about what had just occurred. “I don’t think he has any intention of running. And I think — I think we’re all going to have to learn how to live with him.”
“Are you saying what I think you are saying, Jasreel?” Zahrias appeared as if he couldn’t quite believe what he had just heard.
“Yes,” Jasreel replied, giving the leader of the Santa Fe djinn a reluctant smile. “The feud is over. Let him be one of us now.”
Jillian’s eyes opened slowly. At first she thought she was back in the guest bedroom at Zahrias and Julia’s house, but after she blinked and her surroundings came more into focus, she realized this space was a good deal larger, the ceilings even higher. And the painted furniture — probably local — wasn’t familiar at all.
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