djinn wars 04 - broken

by Pope, Christine

  “Aren’t you an earth elemental?” Julia inquired, and then wished she had kept her mouth shut. Maybe asking questions about their abilities angered the djinn.

  But Qadim only went to the fountain and trailed a hand through the water before turning to face her. “Yes, but this was a small trick. The element at my command had nothing to do with it.”

  “Ah.” She’d seen evidence before that the djinn seemed able to perform small bits of magic seemingly unconnected to the elements they claimed as their own, but she still had no idea how any of it actually worked. Right then, she was only glad that the fountain had distracted Qadim, because at least that way he was a good yard or so away from her. Crossing her arms, she said, “So…you freed Margolis.”

  “I did.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he was necessary.”

  That sounded ominous. It was entirely possible that she shouldn’t be asking these questions, that doing so would only annoy Qadim, but Julia couldn’t seem to stop herself. In her mind, she kept hearing the echoes of Margolis’ pistol firing, each shot the death knell of a friend. She had to know what had provoked all of that terrible violence. “Necessary for what?”

  Qadim didn’t answer immediately, but only stood where he was, back to the fountain, which continued to dance blithely away behind him. Then he stepped toward her, closing the distance between them. The breeze caught at the somber patterned silk of his robe, blowing it so one edge brushed against her leg. Julia tried not to shudder.

  “I asked myself, ‘What is the one thing that will draw him out?’ For he has hidden himself among his people, cowering down there in Santa Fe as he does the elders’ bidding. He has no reason to leave, to make himself vulnerable.”

  She’d worried for the last few minutes who this “he” was that Qadim kept referring to, but now she thought she knew.

  “Zahrias,” she whispered.

  Another one of those sharp-edged smiles twisted Qadim’s features. “Very good, Julia. Yes, Zahrias al-Harith. He has managed to make himself look like quite a martyr, playing the solitary, noble leader, but I heard whispers of rumors, whispers that he was not quite as indifferent as he seemed. That a certain mortal woman had caught his eye, even though he did not have the courage to make her his Chosen.”

  The djinn reached out and ran one hand down her tangled hair, slowly, deliberately. Julia held herself still, knowing that any sign of disgust would only amuse him.

  Or worse, titillate him.

  Qadim’s smile disappeared, but he didn’t appear angry, or annoyed. He gave the briefest of nods, as if her lack of reaction had confirmed something for him. “So if the woman he wants is taken — and taken by the one man Zahrias knows will do her harm, because that harm has already been visited on her before — then the fearless leader must step forth to rescue her, must he not? And then I will be able to take my own revenge upon him.”

  “Revenge for what?” Julia asked, making sure she sounded cold, almost uninterested, as if his words meant very little to her…as if his touch hadn’t made her feel like vomiting up everything she’d eaten for the past few days.

  “That, I think, is no concern of yours.” Qadim paused then, as though stopping to take stock of her appearance for the first time. An expression of false solicitude passed over his harsh features. “But you have had a wearying time, and suffered some injury. Margolis said his device would not hurt you, but it seems he was wrong in that estimation.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, I am not quite sure you are. You must appear in the very best of health when Zahrias sees you.”

  “Really?” Julia asked, not bothering to keep the scorn out of her voice. “You’d think I’d make much more convincing bait if I looked a little banged up.”

  “No. He must feel the pain of everything he is losing. You will have a hot bath, a good meal, a good night’s sleep. Then you will be ready to face Zahrias.”

  Was he crazy? Well, considering he’d teamed up Margolis to enact this so-called revenge on Zahrias, then yes, Qadim probably was crazy. Julia shook her head. “If you think I’m going to sit in a bathtub with Margolis on the other side of the door — ”

  “He will not come near you. He will not molest you in any way.”

  Considering the way Margolis jumped at Qadim’s commands, Julia thought maybe the djinn’s confidence wasn’t entirely misplaced. Still….

  “He knows he will have to answer to me if he touches you without my leave.”

  Those words didn’t exactly reassure her, but she had to admit that Qadim had the upper hand here. He could blast Margolis into the next dimension without batting an eye. It seemed for the moment that the commander was willing to follow his djinn partner’s orders, since he clearly thought if he did everything right, he would get Julia as his reward.

  But she wasn’t the reward. She was the bait, the honey trap.

  And there didn’t seem to be a damn thing she could do about it.

  Chapter Eight

  Zahrias watched as Jessica smiled down at Santa Fe’s newest arrival, but there was a certain question in her eyes. “He looks just like a human baby.”

  Dani crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at her. “Do we djinn not look like humans?”

  “Well….” Her expression turned sly. “You look like perfect movie-star humans. I’ll grant you that.”

  Sitting in her hospital bed with Santa Fe’s newest arrival bundled in her arms, Lauren shook her head. She appeared pale but composed, now that the ordeal was over. “What did you think he was going to look like — a bug-eyed alien or something?”

  “Of course not.” Jessica leaned over and gave Lauren’s hand a squeeze. “I just didn’t know if djinn babies pooped rainbows or something.”

  “They most decidedly do not,” Zahrias remarked dryly. “As I’m sure Lauren will find out in due time.”

  “I don’t care what he poops,” Lauren said. “I’m just glad he has ten fingers and ten toes.”

  “And the nicest head of black hair I’ve ever seen on a baby,” Jessica added.

  “I’m actually a little disappointed about that,” Dani remarked, although the expression on his face didn’t reveal anything except pride in his new son. “I was hoping for red hair like yours, Lauren. Maybe next time.”

  “Years from now,” she replied. “I don’t think I want to go through that again anytime soon. And maybe by then, Miguel will have figured out how to do an epidural.”

  “Of course, my darling,” Dani said, then bent down to kiss her gently on her cheek.

  Watching them, Zahrias couldn’t help but be happy for his brother and the woman he had chosen — but at the same time, an odd little pain struck him somewhere near his heart. Would he ever stand there like that, gazing down with loving eyes at the mother of his child?

  The way things were going, probably not.

  He wondered then if anyone had heard from Julia and the Los Alamos contingent. They should have been back to their mountain stronghold several hours ago. Dani was usually the one to man the radio, since he had a most un-djinn-like fascination with the device, but he had been involved with far more important matters this afternoon. And, because of his distraction, he probably hadn’t assigned anyone else to monitor the radio and answer any incoming transmissions.

  It seemed a shame to leave now, but truly, Lauren probably needed to rest and not have friends and family constantly hovering over her. He could return in the morning to check on her and the baby.

  He excused himself, saying that he needed to follow up on the Los Alamos party and see how they had fared on their trip home. At his words, Jessica seemed to stiffen, the happy light in her eyes dimming.

  “Can Jace and I tag along? Just — just to say hi.”

  Zahrias thought her motives were most likely somewhat more complex than that, but he nodded. “Of course. And Lauren, Dani, I will come by again in the morning.”

  “That may be your last visit here,” Dani said.
“Miguel told us that Lauren might be able to go home tomorrow afternoon if all continues to go well.”

  “Even better. I’m sure you’d both find that situation far more comfortable.” Zahrias offered Lauren a final encouraging smile before transporting himself to the art museum, where the small office that had once been used by the facility’s support staff now contained the radio equipment. Why exactly Dani had decided to have it set up there, Zahrias didn’t know for sure. The museum did have a certain charm, and perhaps his brother enjoyed being surrounded by things of beauty, rather than the sterile atmosphere of an office building.

  Jace and Jessica arrived only a few seconds after he did, popping into the doorway. The couple had their arms wrapped around each other — the only way a human could be transported by a djinn was to have close physical contact — but they extricated themselves soon enough, approaching Zahrias as he stood next to the radio.

  He’d operated it a few times before, since Dani had insisted that he know how to use the device, even if doing such a thing was not part of his daily routine. Reaching out, he picked up the handset and toggled the switch that would turn it on. Since it was always set to the one band the two communities used to communicate, he did not have to make any adjustments.

  A faint crackle came through the speakers, and he spoke, knowing the connection was now open. “Los Alamos, this is Zahrias from Santa Fe. Are you receiving?”

  At once a woman’s voice, warm and friendly, responded. “Zahrias, this is Amanda Garson. We’re receiving. What can we do for you?”

  “We wanted to confirm the safe arrival of Julia Innes’ party. They headed out some hours ago, but we were rather occupied here with the birth of my brother’s child, and I only now have had the opportunity to follow up on our visitors.”

  A long pause. Then Amanda said, sounding a little puzzled, “Congratulations on the baby. But Julia’s party hasn’t gotten here yet. What time did you say they left?”

  “I didn’t,” Zahrias replied, a band of tension seeming to tighten itself around his forehead. It was still difficult for him to think in the tiny pieces mortals used to measure time, but he’d gotten better at it during his tenure here in Santa Fe. “But I believe they left sometime before eleven this morning.”

  “Which means they should’ve gotten here by noon,” Amanda said, worry clear in her voice. “Shit. I mean, sorry, Zahrias. Maybe — maybe they stopped to scavenge in Española on the way home, since they had one of the devices with them and it would save us having to send out another party anytime soon. Julia’s efficient that way.”

  Of course. That sounded like a perfectly rational explanation. True, Julia had said nothing of such a plan to him, but why should she? The two of them were barely speaking when they parted. The mere thought of their icy leave-taking was enough to make him want to wince, although he didn’t.

  Even so, doubt niggled at the back of his head, only serving to increase the sensation of pressure bearing down on his forehead and temples. He asked Amanda, “Is there someone you can confirm that with?”

  “Sure. Do you mind waiting a few minutes? I’ll scare up Shawn Gutierrez and ask him. Julia left him in charge.”

  “Take as long as you need,” Zahrias told her. “I can wait.”

  The speakers on the radio went silent, except for the soft, ever-present hiss of background noise. Standing a few paces off, Jace and Jessica exchanged worried glances.

  “This doesn’t feel good,” Jessica said at length. “I was getting the heebie-jeebies earlier, but I didn’t want to say anything because of Lauren….” Words seemed to fail her, and she shook her head.

  “I’m sure it will be all right,” Jace told her, then took her hand in his, offering unspoken comfort. Even as he spoke, though, his dark eyes flickered toward Zahrias, as if looking for reassurance there.

  Unfortunately, Zahrias had no reassurances to give. As Jessica had said, this didn’t feel good. Yes, one could argue that the ever-practical Julia would not pass up an opportunity to gather more supplies for her community, but surely she or someone else in the group would have mentioned those plans to someone, if that had truly been their intention.

  A man’s voice came over the speaker, pleasant but tense, with just a faint trace of the accent that Zahrias had come to associate with those of Mexican descent. “This is Shawn. Amanda just told me what’s going on. I suppose it’s possible Julia decided to go into Española if she left Santa Fe that early in the day, but I find it hard to believe that she wouldn’t have let someone know what she planned to do.”

  “So she said nothing to you?”

  “No. Last I talked with her, she said they were coming back today but that Miles and Lindsay were staying in Santa Fe.” The man’s voice sharpened. “They are still there with you, aren’t they?”

  “Yes,” Zahrias said, trying to sound confident and not at all concerned, although he wasn’t sure how successful he was being. “Still at the U.S. Marshals’ building, as far as I know, unless Lindsay convinced Miles to stop for dinner.”

  “Well, that’s something.” A pause, and then Shawn said, “I’d better send someone out to look for them.”

  “Can you afford to do that? How many devices do you have?”

  Shawn chuckled, but there was very little humor in the sound. “Plenty. Miles and Lindsay were like a factory with those things over the summer. So it’s no hardship to send one out with a search party. And we’ll try to raise the CB in the Suburban.”

  “CB?” Zahrias wasn’t sure he’d heard the term before.

  “Citizens’ band radio. We made sure to put them in all the vehicles we use for going out and scavenging, or even that we know could be going outside the borders of Los Alamos for any reason. Since we can’t use our cell phones, it’s the next best way to stay in touch.”

  “Of course.”

  “Anyway, we’ll send someone out and let you know. I’m sure it’s nothing.” Even as he said the words, however, Shawn didn’t sound very confident of that fact.

  “Thank you. And if you need us to go out and look — ”

  “Thanks for the offer, Zahrias, but we’re okay. They’re our people.”

  “Of course,” Zahrias said again. He didn’t quite like the unspoken subtext in Shawn Gutierrez’s words, that the party had been comprised of people from Los Alamos, and therefore not any concern of the djinn and their Chosen in Santa Fe. But he knew that protesting further would most likely just make Shawn dig his heels in that much more. Better to let his search party do their work. If they located Julia and her group, then the problem was solved. And if not —

  If not, he’d have to pray that they weren’t too late to find out what had really happened to them.

  * * *

  Despite Qadim’s reassurances that she would be left alone, Julia hesitated for a long time, staring down at the water in the sunken bathtub with its surround of slate tiles. Wisps of steam curled up from the bath, seeming to beckon her in.

  Oh, the hell with it. She’d taken the chair from the vanity area of the bathroom and wedged it up under the doorknob, so even if Margolis got any funny ideas, he wouldn’t be able to get very far. And she ached in every limb. Soaking in the bath would help.

  Well, it might help with the various pains in her body. She doubted it would do much to soothe the dull, throbbing hurt in her heart.

  Mouth set, she bent down and untied the laces on her hiking boots, then pulled them off, along with her socks. Next were her jacket and her jeans, then her T-shirt. She paused for a long moment, and finally unhooked her bra and slipped out of her panties. Since she didn’t have anything else to change into, she’d have to put them back on, but at least her body would be clean.

  Sort of.

  She lowered herself into the water, clenching her teeth as the heat of the water shocked against her bare flesh. In a moment, though, she became acclimated enough that she could relax, could let the warmth surrounding her work with her instead of against her.

>   There were bottles of shampoo and conditioner and body wash sitting on the ledge next to the tub. All high-end stuff, too, based on the labels. Julia wondered whose house this had been, whether they had lived here full-time or whether the property was simply a vacation getaway. There were lots of places like that tucked in and around Santa Fe, toys of rich people to be lived in for a few weeks out of the year and then ignored.

  Well, whoever had owned the house was now long gone. Why Qadim had decided to use this place as his hideaway, Julia had no idea, except that it wasn’t visible from the road, but still fairly close to the ambush site. And it was large; she didn’t have a clear idea of the scope of the place, since she’d only seen a few rooms, but she guessed it had to be upwards of four thousand square feet. Way above her pay grade in her former life. She thought about the condo she’d scrimped and saved to buy, and which her ex-fiancé had cajoled her into selling. Two bedrooms, one bath, barely a thousand square feet. The whole thing would have fit into the kitchen/family room combo in this place.

  Which was only a way of attempting to distract herself from the reality of her situation, that she was merely here to lure Zahrias out so Qadim could kill him. No, the big djinn hadn’t said as much, but she could read between the lines. What bad blood in their past had brought them to this point? Certainly she’d never heard Zahrias mention Qadim, but why would he? They hadn’t discussed very much that was personal, and Zahrias had a long, long history behind him. This current plot could be based on a slight that had occurred centuries earlier.

  She had to think of some way to get out of here, to get away before Qadim could use her to bring Zahrias to his doom. But maybe she was selling him short. Yes, Qadim was big, the biggest djinn she’d yet seen, but bigger didn’t always mean more skilled. Surely Zahrias was in charge of Santa Fe at least partially because he knew how to take care of himself and the people he had sworn to serve. But if Qadim got the drop on him….

  Scowling, she rinsed the shampoo from her hair, then worked in a good dollop of the conditioner. Just another distraction, something to concentrate on rather than the echo of Nancy’s scream against the concrete walls of the underpass, the ear-piercing sounds of Margolis’ pistol firing again and again. Had he gotten some perverse pleasure out of killing Brent and Nancy and Eric, or had he not even given them that much thought, only seeing them as obstacles that stood between him and the woman he desired?