Forsaken (The Djinn Wars Book 5)

by Christine Pope

  Then Qadim was hurrying over to her, his robes billowing as he approached. He held out a hand. “Madison, my dear. Is it very difficult to walk?”

  “I can manage,” she said.

  “Then let me introduce you to our guests.”

  She nodded and did her best to smile, although the thought of having to meet a group of unfamiliar djinn so soon after her confrontation with Hasan was rather daunting.

  There were four of them — but they weren’t all djinn. The darkly handsome man with his hair pulled back from a proud-boned face…he was obviously djinn, as was the exotically beautiful woman with a fall of raven-dark hair and big striking green eyes circled in kohl. However, the Hispanic man standing next to her, while movie-star gorgeous, was clearly human, as was the blonde woman who looked up and smiled as Madison and Qadim approached the group.

  Something about her seemed familiar to Madison, although she couldn’t think how that could be possible. She didn’t remember ever meeting her, but….

  “Madison,” Qadim said, “this is Zahrias al-Harith, leader of the Santa Fe djinn community, and his Chosen, Julia Innes. And this is Miguel Cervantes, their healer, and his partner, Aliyah. When they learned of how you’d been injured, they thought you could use some assistance.”

  “Um…thank you,” Madison replied, taken aback, both by the offer and the realization that she’d heard the woman’s name before. Julia Innes, whom Qadim had once hoped might be his. Madison forced that thought away, telling herself that he had moved on.

  Anyway, she couldn’t deny that her feet did hurt like a bitch, and she hoped she hadn’t gotten anything nasty in any of those cuts, but….

  “It’s all right,” Miguel said with a bright, flashing grin. Clearly, the djinn had made sure their Chosen were just as handsome as they were. “I’ve got EMT training. I just want to check and make sure everything’s been cleaned out properly. When was your last tetanus shot?”

  “Two years ago,” she replied, thinking how incongruous that exchange had been. She might as well have been in her local urgent care center.

  “Maybe if you sat down in one of those chairs over there?” Julia suggested. Her voice was low and sweet.

  Again Madison got the feeling that she’d seen her somewhere before, but even though she racked her brains, she couldn’t come up with a likely explanation. Maybe it was only that Qadim had spoken of her, nothing more. So Madison just nodded and hobbled over to one of the lobby chairs, while Miguel sat down on the table in front of her, carefully avoiding several glasses of water that had been placed there — for Qadim’s guests, she supposed. For the first time she noticed that he had a black leather doctor’s bag leaning up against that table.

  “Prepared, I see,” she said.

  “I figured it couldn’t hurt. But I’m afraid some of this probably will.”

  “It’s all right,” she told him. “I’d rather it hurt now than hurt worse later.”

  Miguel lifted one of her feet and very gently took off the sandal she wore. The bandages followed, while Madison did her best not to grind her teeth. As he worked away, swabbing the area with some kind of high-powered antiseptic liquid, she made herself concentrate on the conversation the two djinn and Julia Innes were having with Qadim.

  “…no sign of him at all?” Zahrias inquired.

  “No,” Qadim replied. “It has been quiet here.”

  “Well, that’s something,” Julia said. “Isn’t it?”

  Zahrias’ shoulders lifted slightly. “Perhaps. Or perhaps he is merely licking his wounds and planning his next assault.”

  “That’s what I fear,” Qadim said. His voice was pitched low, but Madison could still catch every word. “I have done my best to ward this place against him, but that sort of thing is not my talent.”

  “Which is why I thought I should come,” said the djinn woman, speaking for the first time. “Hasan is my cousin, and if someone of his blood draws the wards, they will be far more effective.”

  Madison tried not to startle at that revelation. So this woman was related to Hasan, but would still work against him?

  None of the others seemed particularly surprised by her statement, although Qadim did smile before saying, “That would be most appreciated, Aliyah.”

  The djinn woman nodded and headed off in the direction of the front doors. To set the wards? Probably, although Madison didn’t have any real idea of what that even meant.

  “Other foot,” Miguel said, and once again she startled.

  “What?”

  “I’m done with this one,” he said with another one of those white-toothed grins. “Time to move on.”

  “Oh, right.” Madison lowered her right foot and offered up her left. As her newly bandaged foot touched the floor, she didn’t wince quite as much as she had previously. Maybe the bandages he was using were thicker and softer than the ones that had come from the hotel’s first aid kit.

  She’d lost some of the thread of the previous conversation during that gap; as she strained her ears to hear what they were saying, it sounded as if Zahrias was telling Qadim that he should bring Madison with him to stay in Santa Fe.

  “No, I will not hide,” Qadim said.

  “I wouldn’t exactly call it hiding — ” Julia began, but he shook his head.

  “That is your territory. This is mine. I will not leave it.”

  She shot a helpless look up at Zahrias, whose mouth hardened. “It is his decision, Julia,” he said. “We cannot force him.”

  Right then, Madison almost wished they could. This was no time to be stubborn, not when Hasan could show up on their doorstep at any moment. But it seemed obvious that Zahrias had no desire to make Qadim do something he obviously didn’t wish to.

  “All right,” Miguel said then. “You’re all patched up. Does that feel better?”

  Cautiously, Madison got to her feet. Yes, the cuts and bruises still stung, but the pain was muted. She’d be able to walk around without shuffling like an old woman. “Much better. Thank you.”

  “No problem.” He rooted around in his doctor’s bag and brought out a plastic pill bottle. “You should take these, too, just to make sure nothing goes sideways.”

  She looked at the label on the bottle. Amoxicillin, with the prescription made out to someone named Lita Juarez. Miguel must have found it at one of the pharmacies in Santa Fe. A prescription filled for someone who would never come to pick it up.

  Right then, Madison’s throat felt a little tight. She’d coped with the aftermath of the Heat by trying not to think about it very much, but every once in a while it would still sneak up on her, like now.

  “Thanks, Miguel,” she said, forcing the words past the lump that seemed to be blocking her vocal chords. “I really appreciate it.”

  “Glad I could help.” He snapped the doctor’s bag shut.

  Apparently, Qadim heard, because he looked over at them and then immediately went to Madison, offering a steadying hand under one elbow. “All better?”

  “Yes, Qadim, I think so.” She glanced over at Zahrias and the woman who stood next to him, and all of a sudden it fell into place. That terrible time only four or five days after the Heat had claimed her father, when Madison had hidden herself in an alley and had watched that small group of survivors pass by. Julia Innes was the woman she’d seen that day. “You were with them!” she exclaimed, and Julia’s eyebrows lifted as she looked over at Madison, clearly startled.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m sorry,” Madison said, aware that everyone present was looking at her. But Qadim’s hand on her elbow was strong and reassuring, so she took a breath and went on, “I’ve been trying to place you ever since I came into the lobby. I just remembered where I saw you — it was here in Albuquerque, not quite a week after the Heat struck. You were with a group of survivors, and it looked as if you were all walking north.”

  “You — you saw us?” Julia’s voice was incredulous, not that Madison could blame her. “But if you were t
here, why didn’t you call out to us? Weren’t you glad to see other survivors?”

  “I was.” Madison hesitated, wondering how she could explain her decision without sounding like a complete idiot. “But…that man who was leading you. I know it sounds crazy, but I just got a really bad vibe from him. So I decided to keep on hiding and not say anything.”

  Julia’s expression went bleak then, and her full lips pressed together. “Well, that was probably wise of you. Richard Margolis was not a good man.”

  “‘Margolis’?” Madison repeated, then glanced up at Qadim, whose face was carefully blank. “So the man I saw in Albuquerque was the Captain Margolis you killed?”

  No one seemed surprised by her question. So they already knew the truth about what had occurred between Qadim and Margolis.

  “Yes,” Qadim said. For some reason, his gaze flickered toward Julia before returning to Madison. “As I said, there are few who would mourn him.”

  There was a quiet tension in the little group, one Madison knew she should leave alone for now. She’d have questions for Qadim later, but that could wait.

  “But at least you all made it safely out of Albuquerque,” she said.

  “Yes, we did,” Julia said. “We were in Los Alamos for some time, but now I’m in Santa Fe permanently.” And she cast a look up at Zahrias, one of gentle longing as a smile curved her mouth.

  Madison knew that look, because she’d worn it on her face more than a few times. Only she’d never had quite that same expression of belonging, of knowing exactly where she fit in. How could she, when she had no idea what Qadim’s long-terms plans for her might be? He’d cried out the night before that she was the woman he loved, but she still wasn’t sure exactly what that meant to him.

  “And that is where we should return,” Zahrias put in. As he spoke, Aliyah reappeared, this time coming in from the side door to the lobby, the one that opened on Copper Street. She gave him a faint nod as she went to stand next to Miguel, looping her arm through the one that wasn’t carrying the doctor’s bag.

  “I thank you for the assistance you’ve given Madison,” Qadim said formally.

  “Glad to help,” Miguel said.

  They made their goodbyes, and in the next moment the group had blinked out of the lobby, leaving Madison and Qadim alone together.

  “Breakfast?” he said.

  “What?” Her thoughts were still far away. Maybe as far as Santa Fe. How had the djinn known to find them here? True, the Andaluz was pretty conspicuous now that all the buildings surrounding it had been torn down, but….

  “I thought you might like something to eat.”

  She supposed she would. Last night she’d had a few bits of the bread and cheese Hasan had given her, and nothing else. Things had moved so quickly afterward that she hadn’t even stopped to think about feeding herself. Managing a smile, she said, “That sounds wonderful.”

  Hand still supporting her elbow, he began to guide her toward the restaurant. Yes, the work Miguel had done on her feet helped a lot. They hurt, but not too badly.

  But she and Qadim hadn’t taken more than a few steps before a flash of brilliant light nearly blinded her. Madison stopped abruptly, arm jerking from his grasp.

  Standing before them was a group of djinn she’d never seen before, five of them in total — three men and two women. And standing in front of them, his arms crossed and a smirk of triumph on his face, was Hasan al-Abyad.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Qadim’s entire body went rigid. The elders, here? And in company with Hasan al-Abyad?

  Beside him, Madison was still as well, clearly unsure as to what she should do next.

  Do nothing, he thought, knowing she could not hear him, but at the same time praying she might be able to read something from his expression. For I must handle this.

  Fists knotted in the folds of his robe, he took a step forward. He knew he must at least do lip service to the customs a situation like this demanded, and so he bowed from the waist, then straightened and said, “Elders, you honor me by your presence.” But I cannot say the same for you, Hasan.

  “Indeed,” said Ibram, eldest of elders. His voice was dryer than the desert which surrounded this town. “I believe you do not feel nearly that honored, but that is no matter. Hasan al-Abyad has a grievance to debate with you, and we are here to adjudicate.”

  Qadim’s gaze flickered toward Hasan before returning to Ibram. From the unholy light dancing in Hasan’s blue eyes, Qadim thought it clear enough that the other djinn believed he was the wronged party here. “A grievance?” he said, making sure his tones were all of wounded innocence. “I cannot think why.”

  At that obviously disingenuous comment, Hasan moved forward a few paces, lip curling. “Oh, you cannot think why, Qadim? Well, allow me to refresh your memory, since it appears to have failed you. I was well within my rights to take this woman and do with her as I pleased, for you have no true claim on her. She is human, and therefore prey.”

  “She is under my protection — ” Qadim began angrily. Next to him, Madison made a brief, abortive movement, as if she’d intended to say something and then realized she was clearly out of her depth. Yes, they might have been arguing about her fate, but because she was only a mortal, she truly had no say here.

  Ashtar, the elder with the fall of rich, copper-red hair, held up a hand. “Is she your Chosen?”

  Trust Ashtar to get to the heart of the matter. More than once in his past, Qadim had wondered what it might be like to bed her, for she possessed a mixture of power and wry humor he found engaging, and she was very beautiful, but he never quite dared to approach her in that way. Now, he could only be relieved that he had no past with her. This was going to be difficult enough without any of those sorts of complications.

  “No, she is not,” he said. “But that should not matter. I found her, and I took her. She is my woman. Hasan has no claim on her.”

  Madison muttered something under her breath, but Qadim couldn’t quite make out what it was, only that the phrase seemed to contain the word “caveman.”

  He was not a caveman. He could not expect her to understand some of the aspects of his world, just as aspects of the one she had once inhabited still eluded him.

  “And you have no claim, either,” Hasan said, the sneer back in his voice. He turned to the watching elders, his entire posture one of wounded innocence. “Was it not agreed that only the Chosen were to be protected?”

  “This is true,” Ibram said. Neither his expression nor his tone gave any indication as to whether he thought that was just or not. He was merely stating a simple fact.

  One that Qadim knew must be subverted somehow. For yes, it was true that only those humans who had been selected by their djinn to spend eternity with them were safe. All the rest of humanity was fair game. This was what had been agreed upon during the centuries of planning and squabbling that had led up to the Heat being unleashed on an unsuspecting population. In truth, he was the one who had bent those rules almost to breaking by sheltering Madison.

  “And therefore it is also true that Qadim has subverted those agreements and broken our laws by offering protection to this woman.” Hasan’s eyes had taken on a sly glint, as if he knew he was backing his adversary into a corner.

  Qadim glanced over at Ashtar. She was watching the proceedings with the sort of mild interest that a human might have evinced at a sporting match whose outcome he cared little about. Was that truly her opinion, or was she merely shielding her feelings, since she knew she must be impartial?

  “I would argue that no such law exists,” he said. “Yes, agreements were made, but an agreement is not a law. Or am I misinterpreting what was agreed upon?”

  A silence. Ibram glanced back at the other elders, at Nathal and Imara and Abdael, who usually were content to watch and wait to weigh in after everyone else had spoken their piece. Their faces, too, were impassive, revealing nothing of their thoughts.

  It was Ashtar who spoke next. “Mo
st would say that something agreed upon by all our people is as binding as law, even if it was not written down as such. So that is one semantic hair we shall not allow you to split, Qadim al-Syan.”

  Damn. He risked the briefest of glances at Madison, saw the pure outline of her profile, the way her throat moved as she swallowed. She was frightened, he could tell, but although her face was pale, she remained still, chin up and eyes fixed forward. In that moment, he had never thought her more beautiful.

  He must do whatever he could to save her.

  “Very well,” he said. “But was it not also agreed upon that once this world was ours and our particular territories granted to each of us, we should hold sole sway over that land and everything in it?”

  Ashtar’s green eyes narrowed. She sent a sidelong glance in Ibram’s direction, and he gave a faint nod. “Yes,” she said slowly. “This was also part of the agreement.”

  Relief wanted to flood through him, but Qadim would not allow himself to take much satisfaction from that small victory. He still had a very long way to go. “Then if that is true, I would claim that this land is mine. Everything in it is mine. Including Madison Reynolds, for I found her here, did I not?”

  “That is ridiculous,” Hasan protested. “She is a human, not a necklace or a painting or a bar of gold.”

  Once again the elders were silent. For some time Qadim had suspected they spoke together with their minds, the way the djinn and their Chosen supposedly could, but he had never been in their presence long enough to make an educated guess. Now, though, from the way their eyes darted toward one another, and the way their mouths would move ever so slightly from time to time, he was almost certain that was what they were doing.

  He would have given a lot to know what they said to one another now.

  During that uncomfortable pause, Hasan stood with his arms crossed, his greedy gaze fixed on Madison. She had to know he was staring at her, and yet she never moved, never gave him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence. And Qadim wished the elders were not there, so he might reach out with his power and shake the earth so Hasan might stumble and fall. Just one moment caught off guard, and then Qadim would have his hands around his former friend’s throat. He did not even care if he damaged this building that had become his home, if it meant the threat from Hasan might be removed forever.