She really didn’t want to imagine that scenario, and so she pushed the image out of her head. After all, the goats in Chama seemed to have done pretty well. No reason why the horses and cattle couldn’t have fared the same.
The lane went past a large, handsome house done in the New Mexico territorial style, with a steeply pitched metal roof and wide porches. It was almost as nice as the house where Hasan had taken up residence, and she wondered why the elders had sent him there rather than this property. Of course, having the river so close by did make the Chama home that much more attractive.
As she’d hoped, there was a large barn behind the house, and when they got out of the truck to poke around inside, they found a long trailer that would have accommodated at least six horses, probably more.
“This will be sufficient?” Hasan asked, looking it up and down.
“More than sufficient, I think. We can put the goats in here and all our things, and probably have room to spare. We need a hitch, though.”
“A hitch?”
“It’s an attachment that lets you hook up a trailer to a tow vehicle. The truck is set up for towing, but no one installed a hitch. I’m hoping there’ll be one here somewhere.”
“Ah. I fear you will have to look for it, since I doubt I would recognize a hitch if I saw one.”
Jordan knew she’d recognize it, but as for being able to determine that it was the right size to fit in the receiver on the Dodge — that was an entirely different story. A quick survey of the stall where they’d found the trailer didn’t turn up any hitches, and there weren’t any in the tack room, either.
They left the barn and went in search of the garage, which turned out to be tucked in behind the house. There they found a heavy-duty Ford pickup, clearly the vehicle the owners of this ranch had used to tow the trailer. It did have a hitch, and after a few minutes of puzzling out how all the connectors worked, they had it uninstalled, Hasan carrying it propped up against one shoulder like a makeshift club.
Apparently all vehicles of this towing capacity used a standard size of hitch. They were able to install it without a problem, and a few minutes later, were on their way back to Chama.
They put their belongings in the compartment closest to the truck’s cab, and then rounded up the goats and coaxed them into the trailer. None of the animals seemed very thrilled to be put in that enclosed space, but at least they didn’t balk. Hasan closed the door to the trailer and latched it, then looked around…at the house, at the aspens glowing golden in the distance.
Jordan put a hand on his wrist. “You going to be okay?”
“Of course,” he said at once. “It is only a house, and not even one that I built. I shouldn’t have any attachment to it, but….”
“But?”
His blue eyes sought hers. “But it is where I fell in love with you. For that reason, it is dear to me.”
She wrapped her fingers around his. “I’ll be with you, no matter where we go. We can make more memories in our new home.”
“You are right, of course.” He pulled her close, and leaned down to kiss her, but gently, with none of the wild passion he’d shown earlier. That was all right; Jordan almost welcomed the tenderness more, because it seemed to show her more than anything else how much he had changed, how much he had allowed his heart to open to hers. As he lifted his mouth from hers, he pushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Let us go.”
Nothing else to say, really. These were the rules, and they needed to follow them. Jordan knew she didn’t want to face another confrontation like the one she and Hasan had just survived. If they stayed here, they’d only be risking further encounters with Danya and Farid…and, for all Jordan knew, these mysterious “elders.” She’d just as soon avoid dealing with them at all.
So she got into the driver’s seat and buckled her seatbelt, then waited for Hasan to do the same. It was harder than she’d thought to maneuver the truck and the long trailer behind it onto the lane that joined up with the highway, but after a few false starts, she was pulling away from the house. She could see it in the rearview mirror, looking somehow forlorn, although they’d taken care to lock it down as best they could — the windows shut, all the food removed from the kitchen, the lights turned off. It was too much to hope that someone else might come along and make it their own. Jordan had traveled all the long, weary miles from Pagosa Springs to this spot, and she knew better than anyone else how empty this country was. There simply weren’t any people left.
Tears burned in her eyes, and she told herself not to be foolish. She’d spent only a few days here. Yes, as Hasan had pointed out, this was where they’d discovered their love for one another, but there would be another house, another place to share their lives.
If he noticed her distress, he gave no indication of it. He stared out the window, watching the landscape passing by. Memorizing it, so he wouldn’t forget the time he’d spent here? Jordan didn’t really know how it worked with djinn. They lived such long, long lives. Did their memories pile up and up as the years passed, eventually crushing the older ones until they were no longer recognizable, turning carbon into diamonds?
Although the roads here hadn’t been cleared the way they were in Los Alamos, it wasn’t as difficult for her to avoid the abandoned vehicles as she’d feared. In almost every case, there was enough room for her to wind around them, even with pulling the trailer. And in those few instances where they wouldn’t otherwise have been able to squeeze past, Hasan lifted a hand, and a wind came from nowhere to push those offending cars and trucks and SUVs out of the way.
In less time than she’d imagined, they were winding down past Abiquiu. Georgia O’Keeffe country, with the spare, stark juniper trees and the cliffs in a rainbow of colors, and the flat-topped peak of the Pedernal, O’Keeffe’s favorite mountain, looming blue-purple off in the distance. And from there to Española, where of course the roads were completely clear, thanks to the work of the crews in Los Alamos. Jordan wondered if she and Hasan would come across any of those crews today, and what on earth she would say if they did have such an unfortunate meeting.
However, their luck held, and they made it through town without incident, following the highway as it became the 285 and bent slightly east, heading down toward Santa Fe. They passed empty casinos, their parking lots emptier than she’d expected. Maybe the Santa Fe djinn had done their own prospecting here. She couldn’t begin to guess, because she knew so very little about the place where she was heading, or the people who lived there. Julia Innes would be among them, but even so, she was little more than a name and a voice.
The highway climbed up past the turnoff for the Santa Fe Opera, then dipped down toward the town itself. On the left was a national cemetery, rows and rows of identical white headstones flickering at the edge of her vision. The Heat had claimed so many more, but they had no graves, no markers to remind the living of those they’d lost.
“Do you know where I should go?” she asked Hasan as they passed a huge empty field where wildflowers grew. Driveways abruptly dead-ended there, telling Jordan that something else must have occupied the space, although no other evidence remained to tell her what it might have been. “I mean, where do the djinn live?”
“In the heart of town, I believe,” he replied. “If you follow the signs directing you to the Plaza, then they should take us where we need to go.”
“Okay.” She slowed down, because once they crossed Paseo de Peralta, the road narrowed and began to curve, and she didn’t want to tax the truck hitch. At least the roads here were just as empty as they’d been back in Española.
As they approached the intersection of Guadalupe Road and San Francisco Street, however, Jordan found herself jamming on the brakes. Standing there in the middle of the road was a forbiddingly handsome djinn, his arms crossed, flickers of flame dancing in the air around him.
It looked like they’d found the welcome committee.
Chapter Twenty
Hasan had been expecting this, and yet h
e still couldn’t prevent a quiver of unease in his gut as he sat next to Jordan, facing Zahrias al-Harith, leader of the Santa Fe djinn, and his Chosen across a polished wood table at what had once been the La Fonda Hotel. Julia Innes’ expression was far more welcoming — she was a strikingly beautiful woman — but even her smile couldn’t soften the frown that Zahrias wore.
The main reason for that frown was probably the person Hasan had very much hoped to avoid — Qadim al-Syan, his erstwhile friend. Sitting next to Qadim was Madison, his Chosen. She appeared more intrigued by this turn of events than anything else, but if looks could be daggers, Hasan knew he would have been pierced multiple times by the knives Qadim was throwing at him.
Oh, he had reason. Hasan had to admit to himself that he had not behaved particularly well when it came to Qadim and Madison. Driven almost mad with anger at what he’d seen as a betrayal by his friend, Hasan had kidnapped Madison, believing that taking her away would make Qadim come to his senses and realize his foolishness in giving his heart to a mortal. Of course, the opposite had happened, and clearly the passage of nearly a year hadn’t done much, if anything, to lessen his former friend’s resentment over what had happened.
“This is unacceptable,” Qadim said, glaring at Hasan and quite pointedly ignoring Jordan, who sat in her chair with her hands folded in her lap, every inch of her slender body stiff with worry. “They don’t belong here.”
“That is for me to decide, Qadim,” Zahrias returned. He appeared more irritated than anything else; little flames danced around his head and then winked out of existence, a sure sign that he was distracted. “Am I not the leader here?”
“You are,” Qadim rumbled. “But I am a resident of this place. Have I no say?”
“Of course you do,” Julia said. Her voice was low and soft, but something about the way she spoke made one want to sit up straighter and pay attention. “But maybe I should remind you that at first I wasn’t exactly thrilled about you coming to live here, either.”
“That was different.”
“Not as different as you might think,” Zahrias remarked. “I shared Julia’s reticence. However, I realized that we could not shut you out, not as someone who had taken a Chosen. You had as much right to be here as anyone else.”
“That is precisely it,” Hasan said. Qadim’s dark eyes flared with anger, but Hasan went on, “We are only following the rules. Once I had made Jordan my Chosen, I knew I had no choice but to bring her here. We could not have remained where we were, lest we draw down the anger of the other djinn, or of the elders. It is our right to be here.”
“In a djinn community, yes. But why must it be this one? You,” Qadim demanded, pointing an accusing finger in Jordan’s direction. She jumped slightly, and Hasan reached over and laid a reassuring hand on her leg. “Where do you come from? Chama, where Hasan resided?”
“No,” she replied. “I was born in Colorado Springs. And I came down into Chama from Pagosa Springs.”
“There,” Qadim said, his tone triumphant. “You see? The ‘rules’ always stated that we djinn must settle in the community nearest to where our Chosen lived. This woman is from nowhere around here. Go live with a djinn community they must, but it should not be this one. There is one in Colorado, is there not?”
“In Aspen,” Zahrias said.
“Well, then,” Qadim said, as if that settled everything.
Madison had been listening to all this with a slight frown, clearly absorbing but not wanting to get in the middle of the discussion. Now, however, she leaned forward, her head with its magnificent mass of curly red hair tilted to one side. “I might not be remembering clearly, but I’m pretty sure Santa Fe and Aspen are almost equidistant from Colorado Springs. Or at least, back when I was a kid and my family went visiting places, it sure felt as if it took as long to drive from Santa Fe to Colorado Springs as it did to get from there to Aspen.”
Zahrias nodded, as if considering her words. “We need a map.”
“There are probably still some at the concierge desk,” Julia said. “I’ll go take a look.”
Offering Hasan and Jordan a reassuring smile, she got up from the table and left the conference room.
With Julia gone, it was as though a leavening influence had left the room. Qadim tapped the tabletop impatiently with his fingers, brow knitted together. Hasan noticed that Madison had a hand on one arm, clearly hoping that her touch would prevent him from doing anything rash. Not that Hasan was too worried; Zahrias would stop the earth elemental if he attempted anything physical.
It didn’t seem as if Jordan was too reassured by the presence of the djinn leader, however. She kept shooting him surreptitious little glances from under her lashes. Was she worried that Zahrias would rule against them, that he would send them back on the road, goats and all? That would be a very long drive, so he could not blame her for being concerned. It was probably more than worry over the journey, though. At least she knew Julia peripherally, and if the Santa Fe and Los Alamos communities were as close as they seemed to be, more connections existed there — including Lindsay, the wife of the scientist Miles Odekirk — than Jordan would have in Aspen, where everyone would be strangers.
Julia returned, holding a folded piece of heavy paper in her hand. She spread it out on the table so everyone could get a closer look.
“If you look at the legend, you can see that it’s about 250 miles from Colorado Springs to Aspen,” she said. “And about 320 miles from Santa Fe to Colorado Springs. So technically, the Aspen compound would be closer.”
“You see?” Qadim crossed his arms across his chest, looking very satisfied with himself. “I told you that she had no business being here.”
“However,” Julia went on, “anyone who’s driven these roads will tell you that it takes less time to get from Santa Fe to Colorado Springs than it does to get from Colorado Springs to Aspen, so you could also say that Santa Fe is closer when it comes to travel time.”
“Semantics,” Qadim said. The frown was back. “This splitting of hairs was not what the elders intended when they said that each djinn must settle in the community closest to his or her Chosen.”
Zahrias had been studying the map intently. Now he straightened, and leveled a steady glance at Qadim. “Perhaps.” He lifted the map from the tabletop and refolded it before saying, “I need to think on this carefully. Qadim and Madison, you may return home. I’ll inform you of my decision.”
“But — ” Qadim began, and Zahrias raised an eyebrow.
“That’s fine,” Madison said. She slipped her arm through Qadim’s and stood, forcing him to rise as well. “Come on, Qadim.”
He still looked thunderous, but he appeared to understand that any further arguments would only paint him in a poor light. The two of them left the room, and Julia let out a sigh.
“I had a feeling he was going to dig in his heels,” she said.
“I cannot blame him,” Hasan told her. “If our situations were reversed, I probably would feel the same way.”
She gazed at him, expression frankly speculative. “You know, Hasan, you’re really not what I was expecting.”
“I’ve done my best to mellow him out,” Jordan remarked, and Julia chuckled.
“It seems to be working.” She turned to her partner, who still stood next to the table, the folded-up map in his hands. “Well, Zahrias?”
For a long moment, he didn’t speak. He stared down at the map he held, then looked out the window, which opened on a street that once had probably bustled with people shopping and sightseeing, but now was quite empty. “It would be easier to send you away,” Zahrias remarked. “I have a contentious enough group here as it is, what with Jasreel and Aldair, and the bad blood between myself and Qadim.”
Hasan tried to ignore the dread rising within him, Jordan’s suddenly pale cheeks. “I will apologize to Qadim, if you think it will do any good.”
“I don’t know if it would,” Zahrias replied, his tone heavy. “Earth elementals te
nd to be the worst at holding grudges. But I can tell that Julia thinks you should stay.”
“I didn’t say anything,” she protested.
His mouth lifted in a thin smile. “You didn’t have to, my love.”
“Well, I do think it would be better,” she said. “Especially since Lindsay reached out to me, let me know what was going on.”
“Lindsay?” Jordan broke in. “Is she all right? I felt terrible leaving like that, but she said I should go — ”
“Lindsay is fine,” Julia said with a smile. “She went into labor almost as soon as Miles came home that night, and she had a baby boy early the next morning. Rumor has it that Miles actually stayed home from work to be with them.”
“And they’re really fine?”
“Yes. And she told me she knew exactly why you had to leave. No one’s blaming you for that.”
Jordan didn’t precisely smile, but the look of gratitude on her face was clear enough for everyone there to see.
Zahrias spoke then. “You will stay, I think. Qadim will have to overcome his anger, lest he choke on it.”
Hasan reached over and took Jordan’s hand in his. She clung to him, her tight grip telling him of her relief. “Thank you, Zahrias,” he said.
“Oh, I am not being quite so magnanimous as you might think, Hasan. This town is a large one. Our group has settled in close to the city center, for there were plenty of homes here that were adequate to our needs. I think, however, that it would be better if you put some distance between you and Qadim, just to be safe. On the western edges of our territory is an area that was once called Las Campanas. You should make your home there. As I said, it is still inside the borders of our territory, still on land that no other djinn will contest, but it will take you somewhat outside Qadim’s orbit.”
“It needs to be someplace where we can keep our goats, though,” Jordan said, her tone somewhat anxious. “A property with some land around it.”
An almost mischievous expression spread over Julia’s elegant features. “I think I have just the place.”
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