At last Ibram and Ashtar exchanged a nod. In that instant when their eyes were locked, Qadim realized he would never have succeeded in pressing his suit with the beautiful elder, for her heart had already been given.
“Qadim al-Syan,” she said, “you pose an interesting argument. For it is true that each of us was promised our own land, and those grants included everything those lands contained.”
“Well, then — ” he began, but got no further, for she shook her copper-hued head at him.
“I had not finished, Qadim.” Her tone was mild enough, but he could tell she would not appreciate any further interruptions.
For the first time, Madison moved. Only to shift her weight from one foot to the other, but he could see a certain tightness to her mouth. All this time standing must be paining her, undoing the work that Miguel, the healer from Santa Fe, had done.
“Before you go on, I would ask that Madison be allowed to sit down. She was injured last night, and her feet are hurting.”
“I’m fine, Qadim,” Madison murmured, but he didn’t reply, only kept his gaze fixed on Ashtar.
“I am sorry for that,” Ashtar said. She waved a hand, and one of the chairs from the conversation area lifted from the floor and drifted through the air before settling directly behind Madison. “You may sit.”
“I don’t — ”
“Sit.”
Apparently startled by the steel in Ashtar’s voice, Madison settled herself in the chair. She looked much smaller seated like that, and Qadim wondered if he had made a mistake in asking that she be able to sit down.
“As I was about to say,” Ashtar went on, “while it was agreed that we should all receive the lands allotted to us and everything in them, it was first agreed that all Immune who were not Chosen had no protections, and could be hunted down by those of us who took pleasure in such things.” From the edge of disdain in her voice, it seemed clear enough that she had no very high opinion of those who would make prey of beings so much weaker than they.
Unfortunately, Hasan seemed not to notice, or at the very least did not care. A gloating smile lifted his lips, a smile that Qadim wanted to punch.
I would take much joy in hearing his teeth clatter against this floor. Unfortunately, I doubt the elders will allow me that pleasure.
“And so,” Ibram said, picking up the thread of Ashtar’s logic, “we must bow to the precedent agreement in this case. You may argue that you found Madison Reynolds here, and this much is true. But Hasan al-Abyad has the first claim, for she is human and not Chosen.”
“That is ridiculous,” Qadim burst out. Right then he cared very little for who he might offend. “If we are going to worship precedent here, then I am the one who found her first.”
“True,” Ibram said. “But you would break our compacts by keeping her as your pet, as it were. The agreement was very clear in this instance. The vast majority of our people had no interest in keeping humanity alive. Those of the One Thousand who objected were allowed their Chosen, and because of that, they must live apart. It is the fate they chose, and neither I nor any of us here will comment on that, because it is done. There is only one clear path here, Qadim al-Syan. I think you know that as well as I do.”
Oh, yes, he did. He looked down at Madison, whose hands gripped the armrests of her chair so tightly that he could see her knuckles standing out even whiter against her already pale skin. She cared for him…but how much? Enough to spend eternity with him?
And did he care that much for her? He had admitted that he loved her, but he also knew that love was newly come to him, something he had barely begun to acknowledge, much less understand. His life had been composed of one conquest after another, only to be abandoned when those women no longer suited him.
If he made Madison his Chosen, he could not abandon her. They would be joined forever…and forever was a very long time.
“You don’t have to do it,” she said then. Her voice was low but clear, although she would not look at him, as if his hesitation had wounded her.
Neither would she look at Hasan, who still wore that hungry expression on his face. Was he eager to bed her? Kill her? First one, then the other? That would be a triumph for him, Qadim supposed, to use her body until he was done, then discard her like so much trash.
Rage filled Qadim. That could not happen. Would not happen. She was too brave and bright and beautiful. Perhaps it would have been better if she’d fled to Los Alamos all those months ago so she might have a normal life among her own kind, but that fate had been denied her.
No, now she must be joined forever with a sorry specimen who had hesitated when he should have marched in right away and made her his. Perhaps one day she would forgive him for his weakness.
After all, he would have eternity to seek absolution.
“She is my Chosen,” he said then, voice strong and carrying, echoing off the high ceilings. “I choose her to be bound to me forever. She is under my protection now, and any djinn who raises his hand against her will feel my wrath.”
“And ours as well,” said Ashtar, moving so she stood shoulder to shoulder with Ibram. “For she is now Chosen, and protected from those who might seek to cause her harm.” Her gaze flicked to Hasan, who hadn’t moved, instead stood rooted in place while wearing an expression of baffled fury, as if he hadn’t quite yet comprehended what had just occurred. “Hasan al-Abyad, we dismiss your grievance. You may go from here.”
“But — ”
“You may go,” Ibram cut in, his voice a blade.
Hasan blanched. “I follow your word.”
And he was gone, departing with a bang that sounded louder than usual. For a few seconds, no one spoke.
But then Ashtar said, “Our work here is done. And you, Qadim al-Syan, and you, Madison Reynolds — you must prepare to leave this place. For by claiming a Chosen, you have given up your right to this land. You must take your things, and go live with the others of your kind in Santa Fe.”
Of course. He thought of all the work he had done so far, of how he had tried so hard to love this land, even if it had been given to him almost as a joke. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was the woman who sat beside him, her face pale and stunned. She still hadn’t quite grasped what had just happened to her.
She was his…but he was also hers, now and for all time.
They had better start making the best of it.
He turned and bent slightly so he could take her cold fingers in his and raise her from the chair. She stood, but he could feel the way her body shook.
“We will give you some time,” Ibram said. “But in the morning, you must be gone.”
A faint nod, and then all the elders disappeared with a wild rush of wind that set the chandeliers swinging overhead.
“Well, my love,” Qadim told Madison, “it seems we might as well get started.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, watching as Qadim gathered up their things and placed them in a handsome set of matched Louis Vuitton luggage. Where he’d gotten it, she had no idea. Not that it really mattered.
Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Qadim had made her his Chosen. She would be bound to him forever, would never age, would never get sick, would never…be a true human again.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said.
He paused, hands full with a half-folded robe of dark gray silk. Those deep-set eyes searched her face, as if attempting to determine whether she was serious or not. “Of course I did,” he said at last. “You know that I care for you, Madison. How could you possibly think that I would abandon the woman I love to the hands of that madman?”
“I — ” Well, of course she knew that Qadim would never do such a thing. Yes, there were things in his past he wasn’t proud of, things he’d done and could never erase. But those few small missteps didn’t make him a bad man. In this situation, he’d done the one thing he knew would save her, now and forever.
But at what cost?
With little care for the
silken fabric, he shoved the robe into the suitcase and came over to her, taking her hands in his so he might pull her up from the bed. She expected a throb of pain as she put her full weight on her feet, but that didn’t happen. Yes, there was a slight twinge, but so much less than it should have been.
Because she was Qadim’s Chosen, and now she would heal more quickly than any normal human being ever could. She would never get sick, never grow old.
Never die.
“My love,” he said, fingers tightening on hers. “I know it is a great deal to take in. Just remember that you are safe, and that we are together. All the rest — well, you will learn to live with that as time goes on. It will become easier.”
“How do you know that?” she asked, unable to keep the fear from her voice. “You’ve never had a Chosen before, have you?”
“Of course not. But I have seen how the djinn in Santa Fe are with their Chosen. They are happy, Madison. They are learning how to share their lives. We can do the same thing.”
She held on to his hands as if they were the only thing preventing her from drowning in deep water. And perhaps they were. This was nothing she’d asked for. Yes, far in the back of her mind, she’d harbored a secret hope, but that’s all it had been. Hope. Not certainty. She knew she loved him, had never been with anyone who made her feel the way he did, but…was that enough?
Then he pulled her close, his lips touching hers, almost tentatively, as if he wasn’t sure whether she wanted to share this sort of intimacy after what she had suffered at Hasan’s hands. But as soon as their mouths met, she knew this was exactly what she needed. She needed him to touch her, make love to her, claim her again as his, now that they would be bound together for eternity.
He seemed to sense her need and fumbled with the buttons on her tunic, undoing it enough so he could pull it over her head. His hands found the clasp to her bra and undid that as well, his strong fingers closing on her breasts, stroking her.
“Yes, Qadim,” she breathed. “Touch me. Touch all of me.”
A low, heated growl at the back of his throat, and then they were both on the bed, his welcome, delicious weight on top of her as he yanked at the drawstring of her trousers and pulled those and her underwear down with one swift motion, just before his fingers slipped into her. She moaned, writhing against him as his mouth closed on her nipple and his strong, sensitive fingers found the places that needed his touch the most, stroking her, bringing her to the edge so she could fall over it, drowning in waves of ecstasy, her entire body thrumming with a wild heat centered in her very core.
Then his mouth was on her, and she cried aloud, knowing that the next climax was already building on the shimmering afterglow of the last, every nerve ending in her coming alive as he tasted her, making love to her with his tongue. And as she came, he slid into her, filling her, their bodies finding a new rhythm as he rocked harder and harder, his heavy hair falling around her face as she breathed him in, took him in as he reached his own climax, his warmth spilling into her, filling her.
The world spun. She clung to Qadim, knowing he was her center, the one thing she could always be certain of. He loved her enough to make her his for all time. How could she question that? How could she do anything except love him back, and know that everything was going to be all right?
They were joined, now and forever.
Chapter Nineteen
Qadim had asked her if she wanted to retrieve any of her belongings from the bunker, but she’d shaken her head. That was her old life. She didn’t want to drag anything from that time of worry and fear and being hunted into this new world, this new life among the djinn and their Chosen.
The elders must have spoken with Zahrias, or informed him in some way, because he was waiting when Madison and Qadim drove into town. They’d decided that was the best way to leave Albuquerque, since they didn’t know exactly where they were going in Santa Fe, and they had enough things to carry that Qadim would have been hard-pressed to take it all in one trip.
Besides, she had to be impressed with his style; Albuquerque’s stores of gasoline were aging, so he’d found an electric car for them and charged it using the energy supply he’d created for their use while living at the Andaluz. And not just any electric car, but a Tesla S.
“More than a two hundred-mile range,” he said proudly as he opened the trunk and loaded in their luggage.
“It’s only fifty-five miles or so to Santa Fe,” Madison pointed out.
His grin didn’t fade. “Even better.”
Zahrias didn’t look all that impressed when they pulled to a stop on the north side of the Plaza, across from the Palace of the Governors. Once upon a time, you couldn’t even park there, as that area used to be blocked off so that street vendors could sell their wares there, but those days were long gone.
“Welcome to Santa Fe,” the djinn leader said as Qadim and Madison got out of their vehicle.
“We thank you,” Qadim replied formally.
“Julia has put together a list of properties that might be suitable for your use,” Zahrias continued, producing a folded piece of paper from somewhere inside his robes. He handed it, not to Qadim, but to Madison.
“That was very thoughtful of her,” she said.
“We wish to see you well settled here. If there is anything you require, you need only reach out to one of us. Julia will be in contact later once you’ve made your decision.”
“Please give her our thanks,” Qadim told him.
Zahrias didn’t smile. Was he unhappy that the two of them would be living here, considering Qadim’s rather spotty past when it came to Julia Innes?
Unfortunately, there wasn’t much he — or any of them — could do about that. They’d have to figure out a way for all of them to get along.
“We’ll just take a look at these houses, then,” Madison said, figuring it was best if they got on with it — and were safely out of Zahrias’ orbit for a while. She applied gentle pressure on Qadim’s arm, and he gave Zahrias a formal bow before they headed off to the car again.
Any worries that the djinn leader might have given them a list of sub-par properties out of spite were quickly erased as soon as Madison stepped inside the first house. Located just past the downtown area, it was enormous, easily twice the size of the two-story home where she’d grown up. Polished sandstone floors. Multiple fireplaces, including one on the covered patio off the family room. Granite in the kitchen, and the biggest whirlpool bath she’d ever seen in the master suite.
“I think I like this,” Qadim said, a wicked gleam entering his eyes as he ran an appreciative hand over the granite-tiled surround. “We would both fit easily.”
They probably would, even as tall as he was. “We have other houses to look at,” she pointed out.
“Why? Do you think they would suit us better than this home?”
She was hard-pressed to think that they might. Secretly she’d dreamed of living in a house like this one, but she’d known that, even though she’d been doing fairly well for herself with her art, a four-thousand-square-foot updated adobe in Santa Fe’s foothills would have been well out of her reach.
“No,” she said. “It’s incredible.” She stopped there, and sent Qadim a sidelong look, complete with lifted eyebrow. “But aren’t you going to miss the Andaluz?”
In reply, he stepped away from the bath and came to take her by the waist. His body was warm, and a welcome shiver went through her. She had a feeling they’d be christening that bathtub fairly soon.
“I will only miss it because that is where I fell in love with you,” he said. “But we will be making a new life here. And I will confess that sometimes it was wearying to manage all those stairs.”
She could only chuckle at that remark, since she knew that a djinn really didn’t need to use the stairs…unless he was trying to make a human feel more at ease. “No stairs here,” she said lightly. “Well, unless you count the steps down into the living room. So should we go back into town and
let Zahrias and Julia know that we’ve made our choice?”
“No need for that,” he told her as he plucked the list of houses from her hand. “I will use this to let them know.” He tore off the section at the top, the one that had the address of the house they had chosen and the directions to it, folded it in half, and then — it disappeared.
“Where did it go?”
“To the home of Zahrias and Julia.”
She didn’t ask how he knew where that was, since he’d already told her it was at their home that he’d met Ahmar and his Chosen, where the plans had been formulated to steal Madison away from Hasan. It was still difficult to grasp that he could send objects whizzing from place to place in an instant, but she supposed if he could make himself blink from one place to another when he traveled djinn-fashion, then it was logical to expect that he could do the same thing with inanimate objects.
Madison followed him out to the driveway, where he’d parked the Tesla. They hadn’t pulled into the garage because they hadn’t known for sure how long they were going to be here, whether they’d decide the place wouldn’t suit them after all. It turned out that the garage had been empty; she didn’t know if the lack of cars and the utterly pristine state of the rest of the house was an indication that the owners had not been here when the Heat swept through the population, or whether Julia had some djinn helpers make sure all the houses on her list had been cleaned out and made ready to move in.
The enormous closets swallowed up the meager assortment of clothing they had brought, but Qadim had only smiled and said he would conjure many more outfits for her, one for each day of the month, if that would help to make things feel a little less empty. Again she could only shake her head at him and tell him she didn’t think that would be necessary.
Forsaken (The Djinn Wars Book 5) Page 24