djinn wars 04 - broken

by Pope, Christine

“We djinn all have our individual powers,” Jasreel explained. “I can call the wind, and Zahrias can make fire do his bidding. But along with those obvious powers, we possess more subtle ones as well. I can hear your thoughts on the wind, and Zahrias can melt metal with the sheer force of his will. And one particular gift earth elementals possess is the ability to shield themselves and those around them from intrusion by other djinn. We could walk right past the place where Qadim has Julia hidden and never know, because he’d be using the very power of the earth itself to block any sign of her presence.”

  Jessica didn’t quite groan, but she looked as if she wanted to. “Well, that’s just great.”

  “It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t start looking,” Zahrias said. “It only means finding her will be more difficult. But we should go now. We’ve already wasted enough time.”

  A nod. Her expression was resigned. “I guess I should have brought more coffee.”

  * * *

  The bed was comfortable enough, but that didn’t mean Julia intended to get a lick of sleep that night. After dinner, she’d been allowed to come up to her designated room on her own. Qadim had stayed in the dining room, finishing the last of the bottle of wine. The satisfied expression he’d worn seemed to indicate that he was confident in the outcome of his battle with Zahrias the next day.

  What form that would take, she wasn’t sure. She’d witnessed Jasreel’s duel with his half-brother Aldair, but they were both air elementals and so had fought on a more or less even playing field. But with Zahrias commanding fire and Qadim controlling earth, she wasn’t sure how that would even work.

  Well, she supposed she would find out tomorrow.

  She was lying flat on her back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. The door was locked, but Julia didn’t have much confidence in that flimsy defense. No door locks could keep a djinn out. What unnerved her even more was that she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Margolis since Qadim had sent him packing. He had to be skulking around someplace, but where?

  He won’t try anything, she told herself. Qadim would just do that Darth Vader maneuver on him again.

  Maybe. She’d seen the flicker of madness far back in Margolis’ eyes, and wondered if that madness would spur him to questionable action, even if doing so meant risking Qadim’s wrath. Margolis had never been all that stable, but six months of imprisonment had only served to damage him that much more. It was possible that fear of the djinn who commanded him wasn’t strong enough to keep him away from the prize he’d been lusting after for so long.

  If only she really was Zahrias’ Chosen. She knew that the djinn had a connection with the mortals they’d made their partners, a connection so deep they could reach out to one another across the miles and communicate by thought. But she wasn’t anything to Zahrias, only a woman he’d felt some attraction to, but not enough so he would dedicate his life to her.

  All right, she could deal with that. The knowledge hurt, but so had a lot of other things in her life. Maybe he’d sensed the flaw within her, had realized that something inside had been fractured early on and could never really be repaired. She could slap a temporary bandage on it and pretend everything was fine, but it wasn’t. Because Zahrias was strong and noble, he deserved someone strong as well, not a woman who was so weak that she’d sell the property she’d worked so hard to earn on her own, just because her fiancé told her to, a woman who’d stood there and let him hit her that one time, just because she’d had the temerity to go car shopping without him.

  Jessica had tried to reassure Julia, to tell her that she knew Julia would have had the strength to leave eventually if the Heat hadn’t intervened, but Julia wasn’t so sure. Years of being told you were worthless eventually started to build up. You believed it, even if others tried to step in and tell you it wasn’t true.

  Restless, she pushed back the covers and got out of bed, then went to the window. She wasn’t really sure what she expected to see, because the night was black as pitch beyond the little oasis of light here at the house. But she didn’t want to be lying there, consumed by thoughts that chased themselves around and around and never seemed to go anywhere.

  But a gibbous moon had risen over the mountains to the east, and its light was enough to illuminate the courtyard, which lay below her balcony. The fountain’s water still danced in the moonlight, catching its rays and shimmering like shattered diamonds in the darkness. The water was not the only thing moving out there, however. Julia caught sight of a figure walking in the shadowy courtyard, coming to pause near the edge of the fountain. Margolis?

  No, the figure was too tall, and when he moved, she saw the glint of silk along the robes he wore. Qadim. But what was he doing out there?

  His arms were extended in front of him, palms flat to the ground. In the next instant, Julia felt the faintest rumble of the earth beneath the house. Not enough to cause any real damage, or even to knock over the bottles of perfume the previous occupant of this room had left sitting on a tray on top of the dresser. But enough to signal that the djinn was exerting his power in some way, even though Julia couldn’t begin to guess what that was.

  In the next moment, he turned. Even at this distance, Julia could tell he was looking up at her window. Could he see her standing there in her T-shirt and cut-off yoga pants, so very different from the glamorous outfit he’d made her wear at dinner? The moonlight might be reflecting off the glass; surely it was very bright now, and coming in at the wrong angle. But djinn eyes were sharper than mortal eyes….

  Rattled, she moved away from the window and got into bed. The covers offered no real security, but it felt better to be burrowed beneath them, just like all the times when she was a little girl and had overheard her parents fighting. Back then, she’d thought if she could only cover her ears, maybe that would make it all stop, even though the bruises on her mother’s arms and face after such incidents always gave the lie to Julia’s childish hopes.

  There was no point in revisiting those memories, however. Both her parents were gone now, and if they’d found some sort of peace in death, she would never know for certain. What she did know was that she needed to be as rested as possible tomorrow — not so she was looking her best, and therefore would make even more alluring bait, but because if she stayed sharp, maybe she could figure out some way for both her and Zahrias to survive.

  She shut her eyes and made herself breathe deeply. In…out…in…out. Rest…rest….

  Darkness fell.

  Chapter Ten

  Jasreel and Jessica went off in one direction, while Zahrias headed in the other. Perhaps being separated was unwise, but they could cover a great deal more ground this way. He could only hope that if the couple located Julia first, they would come and fetch him before they did anything foolish. Qadim was older and wilier and, Zahrias feared, stronger than Jasreel. Yes, his cousin had shown a good deal of resourcefulness in his duel with Aldair, but Zahrias didn’t know if that would be enough.

  As Jessica had told him, this was a far more rural area than Santa Fe. The properties were spread far apart, and often set back a good distance from the road. Because Qadim was no doubt doing everything he could to block Julia’s presence, Zahrias couldn’t rely on the faint but distinctive tingle that told him when a mortal was nearby. He could only use his eyes, hoping that one of these houses would betray some signs of life. What made it even trickier was that the homes were empty, but quite a few still had some sort of lighting around them because of the human technology that allowed exterior lights to soak up the sun’s rays during the daytime and then illuminate a designated area during the nighttime hours. More than once he’d stopped, hope flaring that he’d encountered someplace where people yet lived, only to find nothing there except those deceptive solar lights.

  At least he could drift along, using his powers to propel him rather than having to trudge from house to house on foot the way a human would. But as the night wore on, he could feel his sense of unease growing, tension increasing in his neck and shoulde
rs with every house that proved itself empty. Perhaps their speculation that Qadim had remained in the area had been wrong, and this was all just wasted effort. From his studies of the region, Zahrias knew there were other small settlements farther up this road, places tucked away into the folds of the mountains, in hidden box canyons and deep valleys. It would take days to search them all if Pojoaque turned out to be a dead end.

  If that proved to be the case, though, he would keep going. He knew he couldn’t rest until Julia was found, and safe in his arms. And if he had to go down on his knees and beg her forgiveness for refusing to acknowledge what had been before his eyes all along, he would do that as well. He couldn’t change the past, but he could make sure their future was a bright one.

  First, though, he had to find her.

  * * *

  No dreams haunted her sleep. Maybe she was so exhausted that she wouldn’t allow herself to be tortured by nightmares, although Julia knew she would be haunted for the rest of her life by the sound of those shots fired from Margolis’ gun, each sharp crack a signal that another good friend had been lost to her forever. Now, though, it was a relief to lose herself in oblivion, to forget all the horrors of the day that had preceded this welcome darkness.

  A floorboard creaked, and her eyes flew open. She could see nothing except the bluish glow of moonlight beyond the French doors, not as bright as it had been when she first lay down. Enough time must have elapsed for the moon to have passed overhead, lowering toward the west.

  Her ears strained to hear the sound repeated, but only silence rang in her eardrums. She must have imagined that creak. Besides, houses settled and made noises all the time. Startling at every single one of them would only keep her up for the rest of whatever remained of the night.

  Julia closed her eyes and attempted to find the still, quiet place that had allowed her to fall asleep the first time. But then the creaking sound came again, and she sat upright in bed — only to feel a rough hand clap against her mouth.

  “Quiet,” Richard Margolis whispered. “Not a sound.”

  Something sharp pricked against her ribcage. Heart pounding, eyes adjusting to the darkness, she saw that he held a long knife to her side. God, he really had lost it. He didn’t honestly think he could get away with this, did he?

  She opened her mouth — to say what, she wasn’t sure — and the knife’s tip began to dig into her flesh. Even that small contact was enough to make her eyes water. But she kept quiet.

  “Good,” he said, still in that insinuating whisper. “I know what Qadim’s doing. Full of promises, but no payout. So I’ll just have you now. I know I can trust you to be quiet…you were quiet the last time, weren’t you, Julia?”

  Yes, she’d been quiet. Hadn’t cried out or protested, only let him do what he wanted, since she’d known no one was around to hear her scream. It had been better to deny him the satisfaction of knowing that he’d hurt her, even though she’d felt another part of her soul begin to crack and break on that black winter night.

  Now she gave one tiny nod. A faint gleam of his teeth in the dimness of the room as he smiled, and then his free hand began to crawl up under her T-shirt, moving toward her breast. Despite herself, she could feel the beginnings of a scream building in her throat. This couldn’t be happening again. Especially after she and Zahrias —

  The door to the room was flung open, slamming against the wall. At the same time, a blinding light filled the chamber. Qadim stood in the doorway, eyes blazing.

  “She is not yours!” he thundered.

  In the next instant, Margolis was torn away from Julia and flung against the wall. This time, however, unlike the scene earlier in the downstairs hallway, Qadim battered Margolis into the heavy plaster over and over again, until at last there was a final, terrible crack and the commander’s eyes went glassy, even as his head flopped over at an unnatural angle.

  With a sound of disgust, the djinn made a final, dismissive wave of his hand, and Margolis slid to the ground in a heap, his limp form clearly signaling that he was dead, his neck broken.

  Julia could only sit there, aghast, not sure how she should react. Yes, she’d prayed that one day Margolis would meet his fate in a manner that he deserved, but now —

  Qadim came over and knelt at her bedside, dark eyes flickering over her. “You did not suffer any harm?”

  Heat rising to her cheeks, she realized that the commander’s manhandling had pushed her T-shirt up far enough that the faint shadow of the lower curve of her breast was visible. Without speaking, she nodded as she tugged her shirt down.

  “Fool,” Qadim fumed. “Wretched fool. At least he had already served his purpose.”

  Those words spurred her to ask, “What purpose?”

  The scowl that creased his brow only deepened. He didn’t reply at once, but reached out and took the edge of her T-shirt between his fingers so he could lift it up. Julia flinched, thinking he must have saved her from Margolis so he could have her for himself. But the djinn only moved the shirt enough out of the way so he could inspect the spot where Margolis had pressed his knife to her side.

  “He did hurt you.”

  “What?” All right, the point of contact there throbbed a little, but she hadn’t thought much of it.

  Qadim touched his index finger to her skin, then lifted it away. There was a smear of bright blood on his fingertip.

  “Oh,” she said blankly.

  “Do not move.”

  He went into the bathroom and came back with a moistened washcloth, which he pressed up against her side. She winced, realizing in that moment how much the wound actually did hurt.

  “It is not deep,” he said. “But you should remain still for a few moments until the bleeding stops.”

  Which meant she’d have to sit there and allow Qadim to go on touching her. True, she was grateful to him for interceding, for preventing Margolis from carrying out his assault, but that didn’t mean she wanted to prolong their contact any more than was necessary.

  “Let me,” she told him, and placed her own hand on the washcloth. For a few seconds he didn’t move, but let her fingers rest against his. At last he took his hand away, and Julia permitted herself a small, barely perceptible sigh of relief. But she wasn’t so relieved that she would allow the previous thread of their conversation to be lost. “What was Margolis’ purpose? Besides being your lackey, that is.”

  “Not a very good one.” Qadim gestured with one hand, and the chair on the far side of the room, the one next to the highboy, came drifting over. He sat down on it, gaze intent on her. His new position was marginally better than having him stand there and loom over her, but she didn’t much care for their proximity. It felt far too intimate.

  Julia didn’t protest, however. He had just saved her from the proverbial fate worse than death. She could only hope he hadn’t done so in order to keep her for himself.

  “No, I knew the only thing that would lure you from Los Alamos was some crisis in Santa Fe. Because of your…history…with Margolis, I guessed his escape would bring you out to investigate. And then, once you were out and away from the protection of those infernal devices that keep those of my kind at bay, you could be used to bring Zahrias al-Harith to me.”

  “Why do you hate him so much?” she whispered. Because while she knew that Zahrias could sometimes appear cold and commanding, she also knew he was certainly not evil, not the sort of man who could have done anything to invoke such hatred. And hatred that had been a long time brewing, if she was any judge of character. In general, people didn’t concoct such elaborate schemes on the spur of a moment for a minor slight. Besides, she’d been around the djinn enough to know that, although many of them probably wouldn’t appreciate the comparison, they were not so very different from mortals as they would like to believe.

  Qadim’s jaw clenched. “That is no concern of yours.”

  “I should think it is,” she retorted, “considering you’ve dragged me into the middle of it.”

&
nbsp; “Even so, it is not something I wish to discuss with you at the moment.” His gaze flickered down to her waist. “Let me see how your wound fares.”

  With some reluctance, she lifted the washcloth away from her side, trying to ignore the twinge she felt as she did so. Thank God her tetanus booster would protect her for a few more years. After that — well, it was something she’d need to get Miles working on. All right, he was a physicist, not a doctor, but surely he could figure something out.

  “The bleeding has stopped,” Qadim informed her. “But if you wish a bandage — ”

  “No,” she cut in. The last thing she wanted was to give him another excuse to touch her. “If it’s stopped bleeding, then it should be fine.”

  “As you wish.” He rose from his chair, but remained there, gazing down at her.

  Her throat tightened. If he intended to try anything….

  She forced herself to say, “Thank you, Qadim. Thank you for stopping him.”

  The djinn nodded. He made a flicking movement with one hand, and Margolis’ crumpled corpse disappeared from the room. Then Qadim bent low, his face close enough that Julia feared he intended to try kissing her again. But instead he spoke, saying, “I think there are many things I would like to do for you. All you have to do is ask.”

  Surprised by her own boldness, she replied, “Then let me go.”

  A deep rumble of laughter within his chest as he straightened and looked down at her with amusement. “Many things, Julia Innes…but not that.”

  And then he was gone.

  * * *

  The sun began to inch its way upward above the mountain range to the east. Zahrias leaned up against a split-rail fence that bordered a small ranch and somehow managed to refrain from cursing. His people did not suffer from hunger and weariness and thirst the way mortals did, but he knew he could not go on like this for much longer without allowing himself some sort of refreshment.