Awoken

by Christine Pope

  He did not want to analyze his precise reasons for that particular indulgence.

  Jordan stared at the door with some mystification, then lifted her shoulders and went over to the bed so she could set the tray down on the nightstand. There really wasn’t anyplace else to put it, except the dresser. At least here she could sit on the bed while she ate.

  The food smelled good, even though she’d probably be happy if she never ate trout again, considering how much of that particular fish the group in Pagosa Springs consumed. However, there was fish…and there was fish. This one looked as if it had been pan-fried in a coating of pistachio. Very gourmet. And there was rice pilaf and green beans elegantly garnished with slivered almonds.

  Where the djinn had gotten it all from, she had no idea. He certainly wouldn’t have had the time to whip up this meal during the short period he’d been downstairs. Then again, he was a djinn, a supernatural creature. Maybe all he had to do was snap his fingers and make whatever food he wanted appear.

  Despite the delectable smells rising to her nose, Jordan couldn’t help hesitating. What if he’d drugged the food, or poisoned it? After all, she had no real idea as to what he might be capable of. No, that was ridiculous. If he’d wanted to kill her, he could have done so when he tackled her as she was trying to escape. All he would have had to do was put his hands on her throat and squeeze. But he hadn’t. For whatever reason, he didn’t seem inclined to murder her.

  At least not yet.

  Resolutely, she reached for the fork and picked it up, then scooped some rice onto it. A cautious mouthful.

  Oh, that was good. Buttery and rich, better than anything she’d eaten in a long while. Although the desire to start shoveling in food was almost overwhelming, Jordan made herself wait for a moment to see if she suffered any adverse effects. Nothing, as far as she could tell. No strange twinges or stomach aches or sudden onset of nausea. About the only thing that happened was a very loud stomach growl, which she could understand. One small bite of rice wasn’t enough to sate the hunger that had been gnawing at her all day.

  Another forkful, and then another. Some fish, then the green beans. She put down the fork and broke off a piece of bread, and smeared some butter on it. God, that was good, too. They’d made some bread at Pagosa Springs, but the supplies to make it had run out months ago. Jordan had forgotten how good those sinful bread-y carbs could taste.

  She ate everything on the plate, and drank down the glass of water that had come with it. Too bad there wasn’t more, but she knew if she overstuffed herself after being on lean rations for so long, she really would get a stomach ache. The food the djinn had provided was enough.

  The djinn. Why the hell hadn’t he given her his name? Had he determined that she was beneath him, and so didn’t deserve even that minor courtesy?

  Who knew? Jordan knew she’d drive herself crazy if she sat here and tried to ascribe human motivations to someone who wasn’t human at all. She needed to remind herself of that fact, because for some reason her mind kept wanting to dwell on the unearthly perfection of his features, the deep lapis blue of his eyes. She’d never gotten close enough to any of the other djinn to notice whether they were as handsome as the one who currently held her captive.

  Handsome? She wanted to scold herself. What the hell difference did his looks make? He was a murderer. Or at least, she assumed he must be.

  Frowning, she got up from the bed, then took the tray and set it down on the floor next to the door. That seemed to be the most she could do, since she knew if she tried to turn the knob, she’d only be thwarted, just as she had earlier. When a djinn wanted a door to stay shut, apparently, it stayed shut.

  By that point, the sun had dipped far enough to the west that the room was growing dim. Jordan went to the lamp on the nightstand and turned the switch, more out of instinct than because she thought anything would actually happen. To her surprise, the light did come on, providing a warm, friendly glow that did a good deal to chase away the shadows in the corners of the bedroom.

  Well, she’d heard the refrigerator downstairs humming away, so she supposed she shouldn’t be so startled to see that there was electricity throughout the house. She hadn’t bothered to turn on the overhead lights when she was taking a shower, since the bathroom had a large window. Covered by curtains, true, but they were pale and filmy, serving as a privacy barrier and not much else.

  It felt odd to have electric light again, though, almost as if the Dying had never happened, and she was back in her old life, getting ready to go to work or out for the evening. Then again, if this were really her old life, she wouldn’t be locked in here, wouldn’t have an enigmatic djinn just downstairs, making sure she didn’t get away.

  Although she’d just eaten and the hour was still very early, probably not much later than six-thirty, Jordan wondered if she should just go to sleep. What else did she have to do with herself? The room didn’t have a single book or magazine in it; in fact, it was so devoid of personality that she wondered whether it had been a guest bedroom back when it was owned by a human being. No TV, no internet. Of course, she hadn’t had those electronic distractions to amuse her for more than two years now. But at least in Pagosa Springs there had been other people, and books in the library and in the empty homes there.

  Not quite sighing, she went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth, then washed her face and put on some of the moisturizer she’d found in the drawer. All very civilized, again like something she would have done back in the days before the world changed.

  Nothing to sleep in except a couple of satin nightgowns. Jordan had never been big on lingerie, and she was even less thrilled to put on one of those bare gowns now, when she was completely at the mercy of the djinn downstairs. Of course, he hadn’t shown any particular interest in her…at least, not that kind of interest. She supposed she should be grateful for that. Then again, why would he? Humans and djinn might resemble one another on the surface, but they were two completely different species.

  Shivering a little, the skin of her shoulders bared by the spaghetti straps of the nightgown she wore, Jordan hurried over to the bed and slid under the covers. She had to expose one arm to reach out and turn off the bedside lamp, but as soon as she could, she shoved that arm back under the sheet and blanket and quilt, then pulled all three layers up to her chin.

  The house was dead quiet, with not even a ticking clock in the background to break the silence. What was the djinn doing? Eating his own dinner? If that was what currently occupied him, he was being very discreet about it. She wondered what he did to keep himself busy. He hadn’t been home when she first entered the house, which meant he must have been off somewhere far enough away that he hadn’t even seen her approach the property…or sensed her presence. He must have realized she was there when he returned, then come upstairs to confront her. Anyway, djinn seemed able to tell when humans were around, but that ability wasn’t infallible, or all-seeing. They couldn’t sense you from hundreds of miles away.

  Thank God. Otherwise, they would have been able to wipe out humanity’s few survivors much more easily.

  Jordan rolled over onto her side, still clutching the covers up to her chin. No way was she going to fall asleep here, tense as she was. The house creaked slightly and she jumped, worried that the sound signaled the djinn’s return. Stupid, really, since if he wanted to, he could simply materialize inside the room with her. He wouldn’t have to walk up the stairs or come through the door.

  All right, that wasn’t at all reassuring.

  She made herself breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth, the way her friend Ella back in Colorado Springs had told her to do when she needed to relax. It didn’t seem to be helping much at the moment.

  Maybe she should try counting sheep.

  Maybe you should count all the mistakes you made since you got up this morning, she thought in some annoyance. Clearly, going to bed this early had been yet another mistake. She hated to admit defeat and get
out from under the covers, though. It was warm and comfortable here; the bed had a very good mattress.

  And maybe….

  Sleep came along, and claimed her for its own.

  Jordan would have said she was too tired to dream, and yet she did find herself falling into dreamland, bits and pieces that didn’t make sense — standing in the kitchen of one of the resorts in Pagosa Springs and watching her friend Suzanne make pancakes. No one had consumed a single pancake the whole time Jordan had lived there, but dreams didn’t care about such things. Maybe her subconscious was telling her that she really wanted pancakes, though. If she asked nicely, would the djinn make some for her?

  Crazy. She should count herself lucky that he’d fed her at all.

  The dream shifted into darkness for a while, as dreams often did. When Jordan swam up out of it, she was conscious first of only an overwhelming sense of well-being, of warmth and safety. Someone’s arms were around her, and her head was cradled against his shoulder. She couldn’t see his face, but his embrace was strong and yet gentle at the same time, soothing. A tender hand moved over her hair.

  She let out a small sigh and shifted her position, burrowing closer to the person who held her. This had to be Liam, her boyfriend from college. True, Liam had been pretty skinny, bones sticking out whenever he held her close, whereas this person felt solid and firmly padded with muscle, but who else could it be?

  A lock of dark hair brushed against her forehead as he bent down to kiss her on the cheek. At last she opened her eyes, looked up to accept the caress.

  A dark blue gaze met hers.

  Dark blue.

  The djinn’s eyes.

  In her sleep, she sucked in a gasp of air. No, wait, she had done that in real life, because now she was shoving against the pillows where she lay, pushing herself up to a sitting position. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she clutched at the blanket that covered her, willing away the remnants of that terrible dream.

  What the ever-loving hell?

  She tried to tell herself it was only a dream. It wasn’t as if she could control such things.

  But why would her subconscious have even conjured that kind of dream? The djinn wasn’t gentle, or kind. He’d tackled her to the ground, had locked her up in this room. He wasn’t a friend, or a lover.

  He was the enemy.

  Damn it. Right then she wished she’d left a cup of water on the nightstand, because her mouth was dry and she could really use something to drink. But that would mean getting out from under the protection of these covers. She couldn’t risk that, which she knew was silly. Those covers wouldn’t protect her if the djinn showed up right now.

  Breathe, she told herself. Breathe, and go back to sleep.

  She didn’t want to sleep. Who knew what other horrors lurked, waiting to emerge the next time she fell asleep?

  Unfortunately, the only other alternative appeared to be getting out of bed and fetching some water, and she didn’t want to do that, either.

  Damn it again.

  All right, she’d sleep. And she sure as hell wouldn’t dream of him. She wouldn’t allow it.

  Now she just had to figure out how in the world she could face him the next morning.

  Chapter Four

  Hasan made himself ignore the closed door across the hallway when he went to bed that night. And when he got up in the morning, he went about his preparations as he always did — a leisurely bath, followed by the selection of his garments for the day. As best he could, he tried to put from his mind the image of Jordan huddled in the window seat, trying to hold back her tears. The troubles of a single human should not concern him in the least.

  All the same, he would have to decide what to do with her. Should he let her out, or bring her another tray of food?

  Best to let her out, at least on a trial basis. If she proved to be troublesome, he could always confine her to her room again. Of course, that begged the question of his plans for the female on a long-term basis, but he thought he should start with the morning ahead and see what happened.

  An offering of coffee seemed to be the best approach, for humans appeared to love the caffeinated drink as much as djinn did. After summoning a pot of the stuff, which he left on the dining room table downstairs, he went up to her room, then paused at her door and knocked. He’d heard water running earlier, so he guessed that he was in no danger of waking her.

  Sure enough, the door opened a moment later. Jordan stood there, fully dressed, her long silky brown hair neatly brushed. There seemed to be something subdued about her, however, for she did not appear at all eager to look up at him.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Her tone bordered on abrupt, but he decided to overlook that for the moment. “I have coffee,” he said. “I thought you might like to come downstairs and have some.”

  “You’re letting me out of my room?”

  “For now, yes.”

  She appeared to weigh that reply for a moment, then shrugged. “All right.”

  Not the most gracious of replies. Perhaps she was one of those humans who did not fare particularly well in the morning. She certainly appeared rested enough; the shadows were gone from beneath her eyes, and her skin and lips looked rosier than they had when he’d first encountered her.

  Hasan decided it would be best to maintain his silence as he led her downstairs and into the dining room. Her expression did brighten somewhat as she spotted the pot of coffee and the two mugs on the table, which seemed to lend credence to his theory that she was not a morning person and needed the stimulant drink to wake her up all the way.

  He poured coffee for the two of them, then asked, “Do you require milk or sugar?”

  “No, thank you. I drink it black.”

  As did he. Before he could reach down to hand one of the mugs to her, she’d grasped one by the handle and lifted it from the tabletop. Was she really that eager to get her morning dose, or did she simply not want to have him serve her?

  A flicker of annoyance went through him. She would have to learn that he was the master here. It would be simple enough to send her back to her room if she overstepped her bounds. In the meantime, however, he wanted to learn what he could from her, and it seemed better if he at least appeared to be friendly.

  After taking a sip of his coffee, he told her, “I am Hasan al-Abyad.”

  This revelation didn’t seem to impress her overmuch. She watched him steadily, mug of coffee clutched in one small fist. “Should we shake hands or something?”

  “I would consider ourselves already introduced.”

  Looking at her, Hasan could tell she was tense, wound up tight as a watch spring. He supposed he couldn’t blame her for that, just as he guessed that the false bravado was her way of coping with the situation. It couldn’t be easy, to be faced with the demon you’d been fleeing for the past several years, to be held captive by someone who had no reason to keep you alive.

  Then he told himself he should not be so sympathetic. She’d outright told him that she’d shot more than one djinn, so her hands weren’t precisely clean, either.

  “What were you doing in Chama?”

  A lift of her shoulders. She blew on her coffee, took a cautious sip of the hot liquid. “Passing through.”

  “On your way to where?” He already had an idea, but he wanted to see if she would admit to that destination on her own.

  “South. I decided Colorado was too cold.”

  Ah. He should have expected as much. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her if she was headed to Los Alamos, but he didn’t want to give too much away. He preferred to see how much information she would provide on her own.

  “I don’t think that’s the true reason,” he said easily. Her fingers tightened on the coffee mug, but other than that, she didn’t move. “Yesterday, you made it sound as though you’ve faced down djinn before. Is that what happened?”

  For a long moment, Jordan didn’t answer. Her gaze moved past him, to the window on th
e other side of the room. Bright morning sunlight flooded into the room, revealing faint scratches in the polished oak floor, sending dust motes dancing in the still air.

  “Yes,” she said at last, speaking so softly that he had to strain to hear her. “We were in Pagosa Springs for about a year and a half. We thought it was safe. But…it wasn’t.”

  “The djinn found you there.”

  “Yes.” Jordan appeared to want to look at anything in the room except him. “I ran. I escaped. I don’t think anyone else did.”

  Hasan frowned. He couldn’t claim to know the geography of the region all that well, but he thought that this Pagosa Springs was located in the region which had been given to Danya. Had she been involved in this raid? He found that difficult to believe — not because he thought that the djinn woman he knew would scruple at shedding human blood, given the opportunity, but simply because hers was a nature that enjoyed the material pleasures of the world, required luxury and comfort. Chasing down the last few stragglers on her land didn’t seem like something she would bother to do.

  Asking other djinn to do her dirty work for her, however…well, Hasan could definitely believe that of his former lover.

  “Were there any female djinn among them?”

  “No.” The answer was immediate, and definite. “There were five, I think. Plenty of djinn to kill off a dozen humans. Overkill, really.”

  Jordan’s tone was hard, but he could sense the brittle edge to it, knew she had adopted that tone to try to hide the pain beneath. It was, after all, a very transparent subterfuge. Her gaze was steady enough, although Hasan thought he detected the glitter of tears in her eyes.

  Weakness, this propensity toward tears. He knew none of those people could have been kin to her, because immunity from the Heat was not genetic. It had been planned that way, so entire families would not be able to survive and lend one another strength. Humans were notorious for their lack of cooperation, their infighting. Possibly one of the things that rankled him so much about the Los Alamos stronghold wasn’t simply that they’d managed to survive, thanks to those wretched djinn-repelling devices one of their scientists had created, but also that the people living there had, by all accounts, created a thriving community from the ruins of their civilization. Yes, they had some help from the human-loving djinn in Santa Fe and their Chosen, but still….