by Rose O'Brien
“I’m here to see the base commander,” he told the guard.
The guard sported a dark beard, an automatic rifle and a skeptical expression.
“The brigadier general?” he asked.
Theron nodded and looked a little impatient.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Not exactly—”
The guard cut him off.
“Without an appointment, I cannot allow you to enter the facility.”
“Get the brigadier general on the phone and tell him that Theron Blackwell is at the gate. Tell him that I’m cashing in for that night in Athens.”
The guard’s expression remained blank as he repeated that he couldn’t let them in without an appointment.
“Trust me when I say that the brigadier will be very upset if he finds out I was turned away. I suggest you place the call.”
The guard stepped back and paused, caught in a moment of indecision. As he turned away to the guard booth and picked up a landline receiver, Theron turned to her, closed his eyes and mouthed, “Phew.”
After a tense couple of minutes, the guard came back.
“Sorry for the delay, sir. He’ll see you immediately.”
He handed Theron a piece of paper and told him to put it on the dashboard, then he gave them directions where to park.
A young looking first lieutenant was waiting for them when they got there. Theron leaned across her body with a quickness that had her jerking back against her seat. He froze and held his hands up, wiggling the handcuff key in his right hand.
Her lips thinned and she nodded. His elbow brushed her breast as he worked to get the handcuffs off and she jerked again. “Sorry,” he said, shooting her a sheepish look and trying to hurry. The metal cuff snapped free and Jen tried to track where that key went, but it disappeared into his clothing faster than she could track it.
Theron bailed out of the driver’s side door like his ass was on fire and shook the hand of the young lieutenant.
Jen grabbed her messenger bag. No way was she leaving it behind. If the opportunity presented itself, she was going to make a break for it. With the cuffs off, this might be her best chance. As they walked past a line of military vehicles, Jen’s brain was churning with possibilities.
She might be able to get free and hide in the compound until she could sneak out. Maybe she could let one of the officers know that she’d been kidnapped somehow and they could detain Theron long enough for her to get away. There were easily a hundred soldiers in the compound and they were well equipped. It certainly didn’t solve the problem of the bad guys on her tail, but if an entire company of Iraqi soldiers couldn’t keep these guys at bay, what could?
As they entered a side door of one of the larger buildings in the compound, Jen was immediately struck by the ostentatious decor. The floor was white marble veined with gold. The walls were covered in glittering glazed tiles in blues and greens. The ceiling was done in an intricate mosaic of geometric patterns.
As they moved down a hallway toward a central foyer, Jen could see evidence of military occupation among the opulence. An olive drab filing cabinet was stuck in a hallway, a stray office chair had been left abandoned, supply crates were stacked against the wall.
Ahead, a marble fountain burbled in the foyer. The lieutenant ducked down another hallway and pushed through a set of double doors with gold filigree handles.
An imposing man rose from behind a large desk and came around to greet them. He was in the dark green uniform of the Iraqi Army and his shoulder featured three stars and a Republican Eagle, marking him as the brigadier general.
The man stood in front of Theron and glared at him. Jen looked between them trying to figure out how they knew each other.
After a tense moment, the general laughed and pulled Theron, who was several inches taller, into a hug. She saw Theron’s eyes widen slightly as the general pounded him on the back.
“Blackwell! What a surprise! What brings you to this part of the world?” the general said in English.
The man’s voice was loud and rich, a British accent rounding out the syllables.
“Work,” Theron said, straightening and giving the general a level look.
Jen could tell the two knew each other, and clearly they were friendly. So the general was unlikely to help her in her bid for freedom.
“I hope it’s nothing too serious,” the general said, returning to his seat behind the desk.
“I’m afraid it is,” Theron said, lowering himself into one of the two chairs facing him.
Jen remained standing, looking between the two of them. Theron shot her a look and then pointedly glanced to the chair beside him. No thanks, she’d stand.
Theron continued. “Are you telling me that you haven’t gotten a call already?”
The general looked momentarily surprised at Theron’s words. Then he started laughing.
Pointing at Theron and looking at Jen, he said, “Can’t get anything by this one.”
Theron wasn’t smiling.
“All right. Yes. I got word this morning. There’s a substantial bounty on the head of a blonde fire mage traveling in the company of an Asian woman. I had no idea it was you until you walked in.”
Theron tensed, his features becoming grave. Jen saw his right hand inch toward the .45 on his hip.
“Are you about to get rich, old friend?” His voice was even, but his eyes had a predatory alertness.
The general laughed again, a booming sound. “Oh, do unclench, old boy. I honor my debts. You know that. You have my word, on my blood, that you are safe here.”
Theron relaxed and sat back, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Eyeing the other man’s insignia, he said “Brigadier, huh? Couldn’t make yourself a full general? Field marshal?”
“I’m working my way up. Fewer questions this way,” the general said. “It’s not like I don’t have the time. I’m immortal, after all.”
“I didn’t quite believe it when I heard you were hiding out in the ranks of the Iraqi Army, but here you are,” Theron said. “Quite a step down from king, isn’t it?”
Jen’s brows lowered in confusion at that remark. King?
“Quite the step up from where I was when we met in Athens,” he countered.
“Fair enough,” Theron replied. “And you can drop the glamour. She’s cool.”
He nodded in Jen’s direction. She was still reviewing the conversation, trying to figure out what they were talking about.
The general chuckled. “Very well.”
Before her eyes, the air around the general shimmered. His darkly tanned skin shifted to a color somewhere between lavender and blue. His brown eyes became solid silver, without even a pupil. A swirling, shifting pattern moved in those eyes, and the breath caught in Jen’s throat.
The general’s close-cropped military haircut was replaced with a mostly bald head that was adorned by an elaborate topknot of black silken strands.
The bottom fell out of her stomach, and she almost screamed. She felt herself begin to fall, when suddenly strong, muscled arms clamped around her middle. Theron’s massive chest pressed into her back, supporting her weight as her knees buckled.
From behind her, she heard his voice and felt his warm breath on her neck.
“Jen Jiang, meet Djinn ben Jaan, King of the Genies.”
***
Theron supported Jen’s weight easily in his arms. Her head whipped back and forth, her gaze flipping between his face and Jaan’s.
She hadn’t taken the reveal quite as well as he’d hoped. Apparently, being able to see spirits didn’t quite prepare one to see one of the legendary djinn in the flesh.
He put one of her arms around his shoulders and worked an arm around her slender waist. He was struck again by how little she weighed. When they got her back to the Citadel, he was going to have to make sure the woman got something more to eat than protein bars and MREs.
He maneuvered her into the second chair and kn
elt in front of her, taking one of her hands and rubbing the back of it. Her eyes were a little wide, and panic was creeping in around the edges, her breath coming a little fast.
“Hey, eyes on me,” he told her, catching her gaze and holding it. Her eyes were dark pools, nearly black, and he had to fight the urge to get lost in them.
“Jaan is my friend. He’s not going to hurt you.” Over his shoulder, he called, “Isn’t that right Jaan?”
That cultured voice answered, “Of course, old boy. She’s safe as houses here.”
The snapping intelligence behind those dark eyes was already processing what she’d seen. Her breath was slowing, and she was back in control, which impressed the hell out of him. There weren’t many sapiens that could witness that kind of reveal and keep from screaming or passing out.
Finally, her eyes drifted from his and it felt just like when the sun went behind a cloud. She focused on the being behind him.
“You’re a genie?”
“We prefer the term djinn, but yes.”
“And you’re a king?”
“For a very long time I was,” Jann answered, a wistful note dancing through his words. “I suppose I still am, but it’s in name only. My people are scattered and have no interest in taking orders from anyone, least of all me.”
As Jen continued her questions, Theron rose and settled himself back in his chair. Jaan didn’t know what he was in for. Jen had entered reporter mode. When the woman asked a question, there was something in her eyes and her voice and her body language that made you want to answer. It made you want to tell her your life story.
“So you’re in exile?”
Her hands twitched as if they missed the weight of a pad and pen. Fortunately for him and every other member of the shadow races, this was one story she’d never get a chance to write.
“In a manner of speaking,” Jaan replied, leaning back in his chair and putting a boot on the desk. “I’m just trying to survive, like everyone else.”
Wasn’t that the truth? All Theron wanted was to get himself and Jen back to the Citadel and safety. Jaan was a professional survivor. Theron’s eyes narrowed on the djinn. If the monarch was helping them, Jaan stood to gain something. It had little or nothing to do with the debt for that night in Athens and Jaan’s honor. Djinn only honored one thing: the wishes of the ones who held their soul homes. And even then you’d better be damn careful what you wished for.
Djinn had phenomenal power, but they couldn’t use it for themselves. Their powers were only activated when another being took possession of the object their soul was bound to, their soul home.
A wish made by someone in possession of a djinn’s soul home was instantly fulfilled, but the djinn had some discretion in how it was fulfilled. They resented being the servants of other beings and they took particular delight in fucking over anyone stupid enough to make a wish with the most literal or unexpected interpretation of their words.
Theron had no idea what Jaan’s soul home was or where to find it. Even if he did, he wasn’t crazy enough to take possession and make a wish, no matter how dire their situation. No one in their right mind wanted to tango with an immortal being of near limitless power with thousands of years of experience and knowledge.
“Your girl is utterly charming, Blackwell,” Jaan said, drawing him back to the conversation. “Why would anyone want to put a bounty on her beautiful head?”
Theron leaned forward and flashed a smile. “Maybe the bounty is on me and she’s along for the ride.”
“They were very specific. They want her alive and you dead.”
“Who’s they?”
“Word came through a third party. No one knows who’s offering the payout,” Jaan told them. “But you can bet that word has spread far and wide among those who walk in the shadows. You’ll need to watch your back, old boy.”
Theron knew who was behind the bounty, but the question was, did Jaan?
“So, what is so special about one sapien woman?” Jaan said, raising his eyes to the ceiling, like he was posing the question to the heavens.
Theron debated telling him. He could keep the fact that Jen was a seer a secret. Jaan wouldn’t appreciate it. HIs friend was insatiably curious, a hallmark of his race. They needed him in a good mood.
On the other hand, a seer was a valuable asset for anyone, especially a power hungry former regent with advancement on his mind. If Jaan had a mind to, he could take Jen from him without breaking a sweat.
“I’m a seer,” Jen told him.
Theron winced. That decided that.
He glared at her, but she was fixated on Jaan. Sapiens could be really susceptible to persuasion from a djinn. Suggestion and illusion were the only powers the djinn could call at will. They could draw sapiens in like a cobra could hypnotize its prey.
Jaan released her gaze, and she shook her head a little, as if to clear it. The old king looked a little troubled, a crease appearing between his dark brows as he frowned. Silence descended around them and the djinn appeared lost in thought.
“Damn it,” Jaan said after a moment.
Theron remained silent, waiting for Jaan to fill him in.
“Is it a death cult or some demon possessed fiends on your tail?” Jaan asked him in a low voice.
“Both, probably,” Theron said matter-of-factly.
“So the rumors I’ve been hearing of demons making their return to this side of the rift is true?”
“We’ve had some reliable reports that they may be exerting some influence,” Theron said cautiously. Didn’t want to give too much away. “But what do you mean a return?”
Jaan steepled his fingers and placed his chin on his thumbs, mulling something over. After a few tense and silent moments, he said, “This isn’t the first time the denizens of Hell have invaded our dimension. In the earliest days of humans, demons wandered the Earthly realms. They are formless here, just thought and energy, but they can whisper to the weak-minded, twisting their thoughts and actions.”
This was certainly news to Theron. Jaan wasn’t even looking at him as he spoke, his eyes fixed on some distant point. Or was it a distant time?
“How do you know that?” Theron asked.
“Because I was there,” Jaan said. “No one knows this anymore, but the djinn were created by the demons.”
Theron’s jaw almost fell open.
“We were their servants, imbued with their power, under the control of the humans they possessed. The soul home was the built-in control switch for us.”
“Why did they leave?”
“They didn’t. At least, not voluntarily. My soul home fell into the hands of a young man that was strong enough to resist demonic influence. I convinced him to wish for the demons to be banished.”
Theron whistled. “Heck of a move there.”
“You have no idea,” Jaan said. “A rift between the earthly realms and Hell was formed and the demons were tossed out of this dimension. My people were free, and I lost my crown.”
“But the demons are back…”
“It seems the rift is not as wide as it once was. In places of death and misery, battlefields, war zones, massacre sites, it leaves scars on a place. You know this. It’s why the elves are so careful with opening a portal when traveling between two points. Once a door is open, it can never be completely closed.”
“So the demons are breaking through these scars,” Theron said.
“They’ve had millennia to slowly work on those scars. A few scouts managed to slip through.”
Theron decided to give as good as he was getting. Jaan had suddenly become the best source of information on the new enemy.
“There was an incident a few weeks ago in Austin. We think the demons were trying to open a portal by destroying a city.”
“Well, that certainly might do the trick,” Jaan said. His gaze was still a bit distant, as if he was processing his shock.
“What do they want?” Theron asked.
Jaan looked at him an
d his head rocked back on his neck slightly. “You don’t know? Demons feed on the emotions of other beings. Negative ones, like sorrow, anger, hatred, fear. They latch onto people, whispering to their minds, influencing them, on very rare occasions possessing them. But they are really after spirits of the dead. They can drag spirits back to Hell and feed on them for eternity.”
“Fuck me,” Theron said, stunned. “So, Hell is real?”
“It’s more than real. Word has it that thought has form on that side of the rift. Spirit becomes flesh. Energy takes a solid shape.”
Jaan’s eyes fixed on Jen.
“You have to keep her safe, Theron. If they get their hands on a seer, it could be the advantage they need for a successful invasion.”
Theron realized that Jaan had a hell of a dog in this fight. The djinn would be slaves again if the demons returned to this dimension.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to do. My resources and choices have been somewhat limited so far.”
Jaan got up from his desk and came around.
“You’ll stay the night here and you’ll be off in the morning. I’ll put the facility on alert. If the death cult comes sniffing around, I’ll throw them off the trail.”
“We need to get to Damascus and the portal to the Citadel. I don’t suppose you could lend us a chopper or an armed escort?” Theron asked, a hopeful note in his voice.
Jaan laughed big and loud.
“Helicopters are more precious than gold these days. And besides, I don’t trust any of my sapien personnel to go with you. Demons are undetectable, even to a seer’s eyes. If I send an escort with you, they could be possessed and turn on you. No, old boy, the safest way is for the two of you to fly under the radar. A military escort would stand out like a gunshot in the silence.”
Theron paused for a moment, a sickening thought occurring to him.
“What’s to stop them from possessing me?”
Jaan laughed again. The sound was beginning to grate on Theron’s nerves.
“Mages are immune. Only the weak-minded are susceptible. All that training and discipline to control the elements leaves you as malleable as brick walls.”