Forsaken (The Djinn Wars Book 5)

by Christine Pope

  Because she was the most important thing now. Qadim didn’t want to tell himself that he would die for her; he had never believed in that kind of sacrifice, thought it foolish and wasteful.

  No, he wanted to live for her.

  Back in the living room. Madison had been terrified that Hasan was going to take her outside and feed her into the wood chipper or whatever other torment his twisted brain might have devised, but that didn’t seem to be his immediate plan.

  Instead, he sat her down on the chair where he’d first had her tied up. Something seemed to have agitated him, although she couldn’t begin to guess what. He’d tied her arms behind the chair, even more tightly than the first time. She couldn’t move at all — not that she really wanted to. With the way he was pacing back and forth and muttering to himself, she thought it was far wiser to stay as still as possible so as not to set him off.

  Could djinn go insane? Her only real knowledge of the race came from her research in Clay Michaels’ databases and then her interactions with Qadim, and he certainly seemed level-headed enough. Well, level-headed for someone who wanted to raze Albuquerque to the ground and create a garden in its place. But she’d never gotten the impression that he wasn’t playing with all the dots on the dice — he was funny and kind and loving and occasionally wicked.

  In a good way, though.

  She couldn’t say the same for Hasan. Her fingertips were starting to tingle, a sign that the ropes which bound her had begun to cut off her circulation. But she didn’t wiggle her fingers, because she was afraid he might notice even that small a movement. She didn’t do anything except sit there and pray that whatever had set off Hasan this time, it would fade away and he’d turn back into the faintly sinister but at least manageable person he’d been a few hours earlier.

  “How do you do it?” he said then, turning back on her so quickly that she couldn’t help but let out a quick gasp, one she sucked back in and hoped he didn’t hear.

  The last thing she wanted was to antagonize him, but she really didn’t know what in the world he was talking about. “Do what?” she asked cautiously.

  “What is it about you humans that draws them in, like flies to honey? Your race is a feeble one, without powers, without long life, without anything of any note to recommend it. Your women are no more beautiful than ours. So what is it?”

  Qadim had told her how the djinn would come to humans sometimes, that the myths of the succubus and the incubus had arisen from those liaisons. The djinn glamour at work, but other than that, she hadn’t seen anything so strange about there being an odd kind of sexual attraction between the two races. They looked basically the same. Yes, the djinn on average were more attractive than most humans. But looks weren’t everything.

  “I don’t know,” she replied. It was the only answer she could give, but clearly Hasan wasn’t pleased by it. He frowned, dark brows drawing together over his bright blue eyes, and his mouth tightened.

  “You’ll have to do better than that, human.”

  Madison’s heart rate began to speed up, although she told herself that this was no time to lose her cool. Hasan was so clearly balanced right on the edge, it wouldn’t take much to push him over. The problem was that she had absolutely no idea what she should say to make him calm down. “It’s the truth. I really don’t know. I’d never met a djinn before I met Qadim. He…wasn’t what I was expecting.”

  “Yes, my friend Qadim al-Syan always was weak when it came to women. Oh, I will admit that they have their uses, but he is far too soft-hearted.” Hasan’s eyes narrowed, as if he’d just had a sudden thought. “Perhaps it is only that he was not afforded much choice, after the Council exiled him to that wasteland he must now call home. So when a human crossed his path, he decided to take her for his own, since no djinn woman would have him.”

  Yeah, that’s exactly what happened, Madison thought, but she held her tongue. She doubted Hasan would appreciate sarcasm, especially coming from a lowly mortal. “Maybe,” she said, then added, “I didn’t ask.”

  Damn, that was probably a little too flippant. She couldn’t take back the words, however, and so she only sat in her uncomfortable chair and waited to see how he would react.

  A slow smile spread over Hasan’s mouth. In a way it was almost impressive how someone so objectively handsome could make his face appear so unattractive. Or maybe she only saw it that way because she knew a smile like that couldn’t mean anything good.

  He approached her, then knelt on the floor next to her chair. Because he was tall — if not quite as tall as Qadim — their faces were nearly level. Hasan’s eyes scanned her features, and Madison again had to fight to keep herself still. Being on the receiving end of that kind of up close and personal scrutiny from someone she cared about would be uncomfortable enough, but having this incomprehensible djinn doing it was a thousand times worse.

  Then he reached up and ran a hand down the side of her cheek. His fingers were warm, almost uncomfortably so, and she had to fight back a shudder. “Now that I look at you, I think I can see what he saw. There is an interesting symmetry to your face.”

  Well, it wasn’t quite the same as being compared to a Botticelli painting, but she didn’t dare reply, only kept her gaze fixed firmly forward. She knew it didn’t matter what she said. Hasan was going to do what he was going to do, and she’d just have to figure out what to do about it when the time came.

  “And this hair,” Hasan continued. He grasped a handful of her loose curls and tugged, quite hard. This time, Madison couldn’t help wincing, because damn, that hurt. And then she wished she hadn’t reacted, because his smile only broadened. “Was that too rough, Madison Reynolds? What if I did this instead?”

  His hand moved down her hair, caressing. If Qadim had touched her like that, she would have shut her eyes in pleasure. Now, however — all she could do was hope she’d have an opportunity to wash that hair in the very near future.

  And even though she’d vowed to herself that she would do her very best to keep quiet no matter what, something in her rebelled at this treatment. Yes, she doubted very much that Hasan actually wanted her. These were just more of his sick mind games. But he also was a man on the edge, and so she really couldn’t begin to guess what he might be capable of.

  “I’m surprised you’d want to dirty your hands on a human,” she said, still not making eye contact.

  Something about the djinn seemed to go still. For a second or two, he said nothing. Right then, Madison questioned her decision to keep her gaze locked forward, because she would have given a good deal to see the expression on his face.

  Then he pushed himself up from the floor and came around in front of her so that she had no choice but to look at him. She’d halfway been expecting a face contorted with fury. Instead, he appeared strangely blank, as if her words had taken him past anger to a place she really didn’t want to know about.

  When he spoke, his voice was too soft, although there was an edge to it that made her stomach curdle. “What if I’ve decided I do want to? What if it just occurred to me that it could be the best way to learn what it is that can take a djinn like Qadim — who has never sullied his hands with a mortal before now — and make him thrall to a mere human?”

  “He’s not my thrall,” Madison said. Somehow she knew she was far past the point where silence could save her. “He’s — I don’t know what he is, exactly, except that he’s amazing.” Why she’d said that, she wasn’t exactly sure. Clearly, Qadim and Hasan were friends, or had been once, which meant they must have possessed qualities that the other person admired. Maybe if she praised Qadim, showed that she really did appreciate him, then Hasan would back off.

  “I assume any of us would be amazing…to a human,” Hasan returned. The challenge was clear in his voice. He wanted to see if she would tell him that she didn’t find him amazing at all.

  Giving him such a response would have been her first instinct. However, insulting the person who held you captive generally was
n’t considered a very good idea. “I can see that,” she said, her tone neutral.

  “Ah, I am quite sure you don’t.” He moved behind her, and she tensed. But then she felt his hands on the ropes that bound her, loosening them. In the next moment, he had grasped her by her arm and was pulling her to her feet.

  Pins and needles rushed to her abused fingers, and Madison fought the urge to wiggle them. She couldn’t be relieved that Hasan had freed her hands, because she had a sick feeling he’d only done so because he wanted more access to her. That suspicion was borne out as he took her by the arms and held her tightly so she couldn’t possibly wriggle free. He stared down at her, eyes flickering as he seemed to take in every detail of her features. Cataloguing her faults, or trying to convince himself that he didn’t want to do this after all? She prayed it was the latter, hoped with all her being that he would come to his senses and realize that forcing her wouldn’t change anything. He would still hate humans, but he would also hate himself.

  His fingers felt like iron digging into her biceps. She’d known the djinn were all enormously strong, because she’d seen Qadim perform feats of strength that not even an Olympic weightlifter could achieve. But he’d been gentle with her, as if he knew he had to be careful, that he wasn’t dealing with a djinn woman. Hasan, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to care less. If she survived this, she’d probably have rings of bruises around her upper arms, like the world’s most unwelcome tattoos.

  Then he pulled her closer, his gaze fixed on her mouth. Was he steeling himself to do this? Maybe he’d lose his nerve at the last moment. Maybe he was thinking that kissing her would be like kissing a baboon. Obviously, a number of djinn didn’t share his sentiments about humans, but none of that mattered right now. The only thing that mattered was what happened to be going on in Hasan’s head.

  Before she could blink, his mouth slammed down on hers, hard, his tongue forcing her lips open. He didn’t taste bad — oddly, he tasted of cinnamon more than anything else — but revulsion rose up in her anyway. Once or twice in a bar, a half-drunk guy had gotten a little handsy with her, but never in her life had Madison been forced like this, had someone make her kiss him when she clearly didn’t want to.

  The kiss would only be a prelude to other things, she knew. This wasn’t about sex; this was about showing who was in control.

  And she couldn’t allow that.

  Past the sickness in her throat, past the horror that this monster with so many deaths on his hands was shoving his tongue into her mouth, a very cool, calm thought took shape.

  He’s a djinn, but he’s built like a man. And if that’s the case, then he’s vulnerable just like a man. It will hurt a lot, if he’s as aroused as he seems.

  Because she could feel his cock pressing against her belly, hard and insistent. Those djinn pants didn’t hide much. They also didn’t provide much in the way of armor.

  Her knee came up with every ounce of strength she possessed, driving straight into his groin. In shock, he let go of her arms, and that was the only opening she needed.

  She couldn’t stop to look at him, to check to see how much damage she’d done. All she could do was turn and run from the living room and down the hall, her bare feet slapping against the wooden floor. A fleeting thought crossed her mind — damn, I wish I had some shoes on — but she didn’t let that slow her down. Maybe a blow like that would incapacitate a djinn just as long as it would a regular man, since their equipment seemed identical. And maybe it wouldn’t, and he’d be raging after her in just a second or two.

  The hall ended in a door, although it went to a service porch and not directly outside. But there was another door, and that one did open on the outdoors. The night was black as pitch, with not even a sliver of a moon to light her way. Yes, the stars were almost impossibly bright overhead, but they didn’t do much to show her any detail.

  She stumbled blindly down the steps and toward the sound of water, which seemed to be coming from her left. A sharp rock bit into her left foot, and she had to stifle an exclamation, although the pain didn’t keep her from continuing to run in the direction of what she guessed must be a river or stream.

  Not that it really mattered whether she’d made a sound or not, because light glared from the house, coming both from the door she’d just exited and a series of floodlights apparently mounted somewhere under the eaves, illuminating the yard and instantly revealing her position.

  “I see you,” Hasan called out to her from the open doorway. He sounded winded, but Madison didn’t dare stop to look back at him to see if he was limping or not. “Do you really think you can run from me?”

  And in the next instant, she collided with something solid and unmoving. Hasan, who must have blinked himself from the back stoop and directly into her path. His arms closed on hers, grasping her in exactly the same place where he’d held her before. A grunt of pain escaped her lips. “Let me go,” she gasped.

  “Oh, I don’t think so. And don’t try that trick again.”

  Air swirled around them, faster and faster, enclosing them in a spinning vortex, like being held captive in the heart of a tornado. Suddenly, Madison could no longer feel the cold, harsh earth beneath her bruised feet. She looked down, and saw that they were now hovering at least fifty feet above the ground.

  “Yes,” Hasan hissed. “You see, I suppose you could attempt to wound me again, but then I might drop you. I fear that soft human bodies generally don’t fare very well when subjected to such treatment.”

  Maybe it would be better to have her neck broken by such a fall, rather than be subjected to whatever the djinn had planned next. Something in her rebelled at giving up so easily, though. Qadim was still out there, certainly looking for her, and she had to stay alive for him, no matter what happened.

  “I won’t,” she said.

  “You won’t what?”

  “I won’t try to hurt you. Please set us down, Hasan.” She hesitated, hating to sound weak even when she knew she was only doing so in order to lull him into thinking he had her beaten. But then she added, “I’m sorry. Please — I’m scared of heights.”

  Even in the semi-darkness, she could see a flicker of triumph in his eyes. Her arms were screaming in agony, but she didn’t move, stayed quiescent in his grasp. Then he let go, and a scream rose in her throat — just before he caught her again, this time with his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She hated the feeling of him being pressed up so close to her…but she also hated the idea of dropping fifty-plus feet onto the stony ground, so she didn’t resist, only stayed quiet in his arms.

  And oh, thank God, they were slowly dropping toward the earth, the maelstrom around them quieting as they descended. Hasan obviously thought all the fight had gone out of her. Good. It was far from gone, but she had to bide her time. The second he let go of her, she’d bolt again. One good thing about the light glaring into the yard — it had told her that there was a line of trees not so far away, probably bordering the river. If she could just make it into those trees, then he wouldn’t be able to see her very well. And maybe then she could finally get away.

  Alone, and barefoot, in a landscape she didn’t know. She’d still take her chances. If she stayed here with Hasan, she knew all too well what would happen.

  Their feet touched the ground. Madison was just about to let out a sigh of relief when the earth below her began to shake and rumble. Caught off balance, Hasan loosened his grasp on her waist. Startled, Madison looked around her, only to see Qadim emerging from the trees, one hand outstretched.

  “Run, Madison!” he called to her.

  So she ran.

  Chapter Seventeen

  They had materialized in a wood of pine trees and cottonwood and aspen. Directly at their backs was a small river, or large stream; it chattered away in the darkness, rushing over a bed of smooth stone.

  Ahmar pointed off to his left. “That way.”

  “How far is the house?” Qadim asked.

  “Close. Le
ss than a quarter of a mile. I did not want to come in too near the property for fear that Hasan might hear us. Next to the river like this, the sound of the water masks most noise.”

  That it did. Qadim was actually surprised to see how high the river was running, for in the more southern parts of the state, rain hadn’t fallen for many days. But he was glad to hear the water rushing past, for it was as Ahmar had said — it was difficult to hear much else over the sound it made.

  “This way,” the other djinn said, and Qadim followed him as they moved through the trees, leaves crunching under their feet. Even in the darkness, Qadim could see how the aspens here had already mostly turned, where in Albuquerque the foliage had not yet begun to shift into its autumn finery.

  From somewhere up ahead and to the right, he heard a strange howling sound and tensed. He himself was an earth elemental, and his sister one who controlled the waters, and yet Qadim still knew what that noise meant. An elemental of the air had brought the winds to do his bidding, and that was rarely a good sign.

  He began to bolt forward, but Ahmar reached out and grasped him by the arm. “Wait,” he said, his voice an urgent whisper. “It will not do to give away the element of surprise. We are almost there. Wait until you can see what is really happening.”

  Wise words, and yet Qadim chafed at having to slow down. Madison could be somewhere up ahead, at Hasan’s mercy, and if he had summoned the winds, most likely that meant he was using them to control her somehow.

  Qadim and Ahmar reached the edge of the little wood just in time to see Hasan come to rest in the middle of an open yard that consisted of weeds and rocks and not much else. Held tightly in his arms was Madison.

  She looked unharmed, but the rage that awakened at seeing her in Hasan’s embrace did not leave much room for relief. Ignoring Ahmar’s sudden protest, Qadim strode forward, lifting a hand so he might raise the powers of the earth against this djinn who had the temerity to take the one thing he valued above all else.