djinn wars 04 - broken (17 page)

“Do I get to have dinner, too?” the commander asked, the faintest of whines entering his voice. “You neglected to mention it to me.”

“I fear that only two places have been set. You will have to do for yourself.”

Margolis’ hands, hanging at his sides, balled into fists. “I think you’re forgetting that I brought her here to you. And you promised me — ”

He didn’t have the opportunity to complete the sentence, because the words were suddenly choked off, and an invisible hand seemed to grasp him by the throat, then push him up against the wall and hold him there. His eyes bulged, and his face began to turn red.

Shocked, Julia began to step forward. Qadim’s gaze flickered toward her, and she stopped where she was. Not that she really cared too much about helping Margolis — she’d only reacted on instinct.

The djinn spoke. “I think you are forgetting your place, mortal. You will get your due at a time of my choosing, and no sooner. Do not disturb me again this night, or it will go badly for you.”

In the next instant, the invisible hand that had been holding Margolis up against the wall seemed to release him. He slid down, but braced himself at the last minute so he wouldn’t crumple to an ignominious heap on the floor. In silence, he turned and stalked off toward the kitchen — but not before sending a final baleful glance in Qadim’s direction. Julia knew she wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of such a glare, but the djinn appeared supremely unconcerned.

“Come,” he said, extending a hand.

The last thing Julia wanted to do was take it, but she knew she had little choice. Especially not after the show of force she’d just witnessed. Swallowing, she came toward Qadim and laid her hand in his, and tried to ignore the unwelcome heat of his flesh. Strange how that same warmth had been so attractive in Zahrias.

Qadim led her into the dining room, a large chamber with an equally large table. As he had informed Margolis, only two places were set at that table. In one corner of the room was a small kiva-style fireplace where a fire crackled away, combating some of the chill she could feel seeping in through the French doors. Maybe they opened onto the courtyard, but it was too dark outside to tell for sure.

“Sit,” the djinn commanded her, pointing to the place setting to the right of the one at the head of the table.

Arguing would be futile, so she did as he’d instructed. At least the wrought-iron light fixture overhead had been switched on; a trio of pillar candles in coordinating wrought-iron holders flickered at the center of the table, but clearly Qadim hadn’t intended this to be a romantic candlelit dinner. Once again she had the impression that he had set all this up to both annoy Margolis and discomfit her.

A bottle of wine was already airing on the table, and Qadim picked it up and poured some into her glass, and slightly more into his own. She couldn’t see the label, but the wine was dark, almost opaque, with just the faintest garnet flicker when the firelight caught it.

“To settling old scores,” the djinn said, holding up his wine glass.

Julia didn’t move. “You can’t honestly expect me to drink to that.”

A smile played around his thin lips. “Ah, perhaps not. Then to new friends?”

She didn’t like the sound of that much better, but she decided not to force the issue. Wrapping her fingers around the stem of her glass, she raised it as well. “To new friends.”

The wine was heavy, with a tinge of earth to it. Well, she supposed it made sense that an earth elemental would choose something with that particular quality. Julia didn’t think she cared for it very much, but that was probably just as well. Then she wouldn’t be tempted to have more than one glass, if even that.

In the next moment, platters of food appeared on the table. By that point, she was a little more used to the way Qadim showed off with displays of his power, but it still startled her. So different from Zahrias, who seemed to take care not to do anything that she’d find off-putting. Yes, she knew he wielded power she couldn’t completely understand, but he never made a spectacle of it.

She didn’t recognize everything that had been placed before her, but it all smelled good. Some kind of rice dish with golden raisins and slivers of almonds, and hunks of meat so richly seasoned and dark with sauce that it took her a moment to realize it was only chicken. A salad of finely chopped lettuce with sesame seeds in an aromatic dressing. Flat bread that reminded her of naan, only delicately seasoned with saffron.

“Is this djinn food?” she asked.

“Yes. Do you like it?”

At least she could be honest about that. “It’s very good.”

He appeared pleased by her reply, because he nodded, smiling slightly. “I am glad to hear that. More wine?”

Julia hadn’t intended to drink anything more than the one glass, but for some reason she nodded and held out her wine glass so he could refill it. The smile still lingered on his lips.

Really, she didn’t know why she’d thought him unattractive. His nose was long, his lips thin, but for some reason they seemed to work together to make a pleasing combination. And his brows were heavy, but the lashes surrounding his eyes were thick and black, so thick she could almost believe they weren’t real — except of course they were.

Looking at him, she could feel a strange warmth throbbing low in her belly. Need, she realized foggily. Desire.

She wanted him.

No, she couldn’t want him. She wanted Zahrias. But wait — she didn’t want Zahrias, because he was weak. A coward. He should have claimed her back when it would have made a difference.

Suddenly, Qadim wasn’t in his chair anymore. He was standing next to her, his robes brushing against her arm. Just that feathery touch was enough to make her heart begin to pound.

Then he bent and pushed her hair out of the way, head lowering so he could lay his lips against the exposed skin of her neck. All her nerve endings seemed to light on fire, and she moaned.

“Yes, my beauty,” he murmured. “You want this, don’t you?”

She did. She wanted him. How was that possible? He was evil — he’d sent Margolis to fetch her, Margolis, who’d killed her friends. And yet her body didn’t seem to care about any of that. It thrummed with need. She had to have him. It had been so very long since….

No.
The word seemed to come from somewhere deep within her.
This isn’t you. This is Qadim, using his powers to make you think you want him. Remember what Jessica told you about the djinn glamour.

It was like trying to recall a story she’d heard a hundred years ago, but Julia pushed against the fog in her brain, remembering how Jessica had revealed to her that some of the djinn had used these powers of attraction to get their Chosen to bond with them more easily. Now Qadim was doing the same thing, and she’d almost fallen into his trap.

“No,” she said aloud, laying her hands flat on the table. Feeling the solid surface beneath her palms helped to steady her. “I’m not going to fall for your djinn mind tricks, Qadim, so don’t bother.”

At once he straightened, then crossed his arms across his chest. His dark eyes bored into her. “How is it that you are able to do this?”

“Because I know what you djinn are capable of.”

A long pause, during which Julia thought for sure he must be able to hear the panicky beating of her heart. Defying him like this was dangerous, but she couldn’t —
wouldn’t
— give in to him. The very thought made her ill.

Then an improbable smile touched the corners of his mouth. “Interesting. I’ve never before encountered a mortal who was able to withstand a djinn’s glamour.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” she said, and reached for her glass of wine and took a sip, hoping she looked casual and unconcerned. Unfortunately, her hand gave a betraying shake, and she quickly set the glass back down.

During this exchange, Qadim had remained standing next to her. After watching her closely for a few more seconds, however, he returned to his chair and sat. Still wearing that faint smile, he poured more wine into his own glass. “You impress me, Julia Innes. Shall we make a bargain, you and I?”

“What?” she asked, tone guarded. Anything he was offering couldn’t be good.

He wrapped his fingers around the stem of his wine glass. The ring of gold and tiger-eye he wore on his pinky seemed to glare at her balefully. “When I best Zahrias tomorrow — ”

“
If
you best him.”

A lift of one eyebrow. “Very well. If I best him, I will give you a choice. You can have Margolis…or me.”

He was serious. She had a feeling the commander wouldn’t be very happy to hear about this new wrinkle, considering that Qadim had promised her to him. But the alternative….

No, she wouldn’t allow herself to think about that. About all she could do now was pray that Zahrias really would be able to beat this bastard. Otherwise, her own fate would be an unhappy one, no matter which choice she made.

And, judging by the amused expression on Qadim’s face, he seemed to know that as well.

Chapter Nine

One would think that with almost all of eternity to play with, waiting would become easier, but as the minutes stretched past, Zahrias began to wonder if he would go mad trying to figure out what might have happened to Julia and her party. At one point Jessica slipped out of the office at the museum, saying she’d better scare up some food, since it was getting late and they all needed to eat something. All Zahrias could do was think that he certainly had no appetite at the moment. Even so, he had to acknowledge to himself that she was only trying to help.

She returned sometime later with a bag of those odd bread and meat inventions that mortals referred to as sandwiches, as well as a big insulated container of coffee. “Since we don’t know how long this is going to take,” she explained.

Right then, Zahrias thought his nerves would have appreciated a good glass of wine rather than the coffee, but he didn’t say so. At any rate, coffee was one of this world’s vices that he’d come to appreciate, so he murmured his thanks as she poured some into a mug she’d gotten from the museum’s gift shop.

The sandwiches proved to be tasty enough. Where Jessica had gotten them, he didn’t know for sure, but he guessed she had probably gone to Phillip for the ingredients, even if she’d put them together herself. The three of them ate in silence for a few moments, although Zahrias noticed the way Jasreel and Jessica would flicker a quick glance at the silent radio equipment from time to time, as if willing the Los Alamos people to make contact.

But no call came through. Jasreel silently gathered up the paper the sandwiches had been wrapped in and discarded it in the trash can that sat in one corner of the room. As he did so, Jessica poured some more coffee into Zahrias’ mug.

“Maybe I should have scared up some brandy to put in that,” she said, offering him a smile.

But he could see the strain in her dark eyes, despite the smile. She was doing her best to cover up her worry, he could tell. Unfortunately, that best didn’t seem to be sufficient at the moment.

Then the radio crackled, and Shawn Gutierrez’s voice came through the speakers. “Santa Fe? Are you there?”

Zahrias immediately picked up the handset. “We’re here. What news do you have?”

“Nothing good.” The mortal’s voice sounded tight, too controlled, as if he was doing everything he could to hide how troubled he actually was. “We traced the route Julia would have taken to come back to Los Alamos and found the wreckage of her Suburban in an underpass in Pojoaque.”

Jessica gasped, and Jasreel reached out to take her hand.

“Wreckage?” Zahrias demanded. He had to push aside an image of Julia’s SUV a crumpled heap, her body broken inside. “She had an accident?”

“Oh, this was no accident,” Shawn said, sounding grim. “There were scorch marks on the asphalt, and parts of it were melted. The Suburban was blackened underneath, like it had been hit with a rocket or something.”

A rocket? What in the world….

Jessica seemed to be one step ahead of him. She came close enough so she could speak into the microphone. “Like someone hit them with an RPG or something?”