Forsaken (The Djinn Wars Book 5) (23 page)

Yeah, that’s exactly what happened,
Madison thought, but she held her tongue. She doubted Hasan would appreciate sarcasm, especially coming from a lowly mortal. “Maybe,” she said, then added, “I didn’t ask.”

Damn, that was probably a little too flippant. She couldn’t take back the words, however, and so she only sat in her uncomfortable chair and waited to see how he would react.

A slow smile spread over Hasan’s mouth. In a way it was almost impressive how someone so objectively handsome could make his face appear so unattractive. Or maybe she only saw it that way because she knew a smile like that couldn’t mean anything good.

He approached her, then knelt on the floor next to her chair. Because he was tall — if not quite as tall as Qadim — their faces were nearly level. Hasan’s eyes scanned her features, and Madison again had to fight to keep herself still. Being on the receiving end of that kind of up close and personal scrutiny from someone she cared about would be uncomfortable enough, but having this incomprehensible djinn doing it was a thousand times worse.

Then he reached up and ran a hand down the side of her cheek. His fingers were warm, almost uncomfortably so, and she had to fight back a shudder. “Now that I look at you, I think I can see what he saw. There is an interesting symmetry to your face.”

Well, it wasn’t quite the same as being compared to a Botticelli painting, but she didn’t dare reply, only kept her gaze fixed firmly forward. She knew it didn’t matter what she said. Hasan was going to do what he was going to do, and she’d just have to figure out what to do about it when the time came.

“And this hair,” Hasan continued. He grasped a handful of her loose curls and tugged, quite hard. This time, Madison couldn’t help wincing, because damn, that hurt. And then she wished she hadn’t reacted, because his smile only broadened. “Was that too rough, Madison Reynolds? What if I did this instead?”

His hand moved down her hair, caressing. If Qadim had touched her like that, she would have shut her eyes in pleasure. Now, however — all she could do was hope she’d have an opportunity to wash that hair in the very near future.

And even though she’d vowed to herself that she would do her very best to keep quiet no matter what, something in her rebelled at this treatment. Yes, she doubted very much that Hasan actually wanted her. These were just more of his sick mind games. But he also was a man on the edge, and so she really couldn’t begin to guess what he might be capable of.

“I’m surprised you’d want to dirty your hands on a human,” she said, still not making eye contact.

Something about the djinn seemed to go still. For a second or two, he said nothing. Right then, Madison questioned her decision to keep her gaze locked forward, because she would have given a good deal to see the expression on his face.

Then he pushed himself up from the floor and came around in front of her so that she had no choice but to look at him. She’d halfway been expecting a face contorted with fury. Instead, he appeared strangely blank, as if her words had taken him past anger to a place she really didn’t want to know about.

When he spoke, his voice was too soft, although there was an edge to it that made her stomach curdle. “What if I’ve decided I do want to? What if it just occurred to me that it could be the best way to learn what it is that can take a djinn like Qadim — who has never sullied his hands with a mortal before now — and make him thrall to a mere human?”

“He’s not my thrall,” Madison said. Somehow she knew she was far past the point where silence could save her. “He’s — I don’t know what he is, exactly, except that he’s amazing.” Why she’d said that, she wasn’t exactly sure. Clearly, Qadim and Hasan were friends, or had been once, which meant they must have possessed qualities that the other person admired. Maybe if she praised Qadim, showed that she really did appreciate him, then Hasan would back off.

“I assume any of us would be amazing…to a human,” Hasan returned. The challenge was clear in his voice. He wanted to see if she would tell him that she didn’t find him amazing at all.

Giving him such a response would have been her first instinct. However, insulting the person who held you captive generally wasn’t considered a very good idea. “I can see that,” she said, her tone neutral.

“Ah, I am quite sure you don’t.” He moved behind her, and she tensed. But then she felt his hands on the ropes that bound her, loosening them. In the next moment, he had grasped her by her arm and was pulling her to her feet.

Pins and needles rushed to her abused fingers, and Madison fought the urge to wiggle them. She couldn’t be relieved that Hasan had freed her hands, because she had a sick feeling he’d only done so because he wanted more access to her. That suspicion was borne out as he took her by the arms and held her tightly so she couldn’t possibly wriggle free. He stared down at her, eyes flickering as he seemed to take in every detail of her features. Cataloguing her faults, or trying to convince himself that he didn’t want to do this after all? She prayed it was the latter, hoped with all her being that he would come to his senses and realize that forcing her wouldn’t change anything. He would still hate humans, but he would also hate himself.

His fingers felt like iron digging into her biceps. She’d known the djinn were all enormously strong, because she’d seen Qadim perform feats of strength that not even an Olympic weightlifter could achieve. But he’d been gentle with her, as if he knew he had to be careful, that he wasn’t dealing with a djinn woman. Hasan, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to care less. If she survived this, she’d probably have rings of bruises around her upper arms, like the world’s most unwelcome tattoos.

Then he pulled her closer, his gaze fixed on her mouth. Was he steeling himself to do this? Maybe he’d lose his nerve at the last moment. Maybe he was thinking that kissing her would be like kissing a baboon. Obviously, a number of djinn didn’t share his sentiments about humans, but none of that mattered right now. The only thing that mattered was what happened to be going on in Hasan’s head.

Before she could blink, his mouth slammed down on hers, hard, his tongue forcing her lips open. He didn’t taste bad — oddly, he tasted of cinnamon more than anything else — but revulsion rose up in her anyway. Once or twice in a bar, a half-drunk guy had gotten a little handsy with her, but never in her life had Madison been forced like this, had someone make her kiss him when she clearly didn’t want to.

The kiss would only be a prelude to other things, she knew. This wasn’t about sex; this was about showing who was in control.

And she couldn’t allow that.

Past the sickness in her throat, past the horror that this monster with so many deaths on his hands was shoving his tongue into her mouth, a very cool, calm thought took shape.

He’s a djinn, but he’s built like a man. And if that’s the case, then he’s vulnerable just like a man. It will hurt a lot, if he’s as aroused as he seems.

Because she could feel his cock pressing against her belly, hard and insistent. Those djinn pants didn’t hide much. They also didn’t provide much in the way of armor.

Her knee came up with every ounce of strength she possessed, driving straight into his groin. In shock, he let go of her arms, and that was the only opening she needed.

She couldn’t stop to look at him, to check to see how much damage she’d done. All she could do was turn and run from the living room and down the hall, her bare feet slapping against the wooden floor. A fleeting thought crossed her mind —
damn, I wish I had some shoes on
— but she didn’t let that slow her down. Maybe a blow like that would incapacitate a djinn just as long as it would a regular man, since their equipment seemed identical. And maybe it wouldn’t, and he’d be raging after her in just a second or two.

The hall ended in a door, although it went to a service porch and not directly outside. But there was another door, and that one did open on the outdoors. The night was black as pitch, with not even a sliver of a moon to light her way. Yes, the stars were almost impossibly bright overhead, but they didn’t do much to show her any detail.

She stumbled blindly down the steps and toward the sound of water, which seemed to be coming from her left. A sharp rock bit into her left foot, and she had to stifle an exclamation, although the pain didn’t keep her from continuing to run in the direction of what she guessed must be a river or stream.

Not that it really mattered whether she’d made a sound or not, because light glared from the house, coming both from the door she’d just exited and a series of floodlights apparently mounted somewhere under the eaves, illuminating the yard and instantly revealing her position.

“I see you,” Hasan called out to her from the open doorway. He sounded winded, but Madison didn’t dare stop to look back at him to see if he was limping or not. “Do you really think you can run from me?”

And in the next instant, she collided with something solid and unmoving. Hasan, who must have blinked himself from the back stoop and directly into her path. His arms closed on hers, grasping her in exactly the same place where he’d held her before. A grunt of pain escaped her lips. “Let me go,” she gasped.

“Oh, I don’t think so. And don’t try that trick again.”

Air swirled around them, faster and faster, enclosing them in a spinning vortex, like being held captive in the heart of a tornado. Suddenly, Madison could no longer feel the cold, harsh earth beneath her bruised feet. She looked down, and saw that they were now hovering at least fifty feet above the ground.

“Yes,” Hasan hissed. “You see, I suppose you could attempt to wound me again, but then I might drop you. I fear that soft human bodies generally don’t fare very well when subjected to such treatment.”

Maybe it would be better to have her neck broken by such a fall, rather than be subjected to whatever the djinn had planned next. Something in her rebelled at giving up so easily, though. Qadim was still out there, certainly looking for her, and she had to stay alive for him, no matter what happened.

“I won’t,” she said.

“You won’t what?”

“I won’t try to hurt you. Please set us down, Hasan.” She hesitated, hating to sound weak even when she knew she was only doing so in order to lull him into thinking he had her beaten. But then she added, “I’m sorry. Please — I’m scared of heights.”

Even in the semi-darkness, she could see a flicker of triumph in his eyes. Her arms were screaming in agony, but she didn’t move, stayed quiescent in his grasp. Then he let go, and a scream rose in her throat — just before he caught her again, this time with his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She hated the feeling of him being pressed up so close to her…but she also hated the idea of dropping fifty-plus feet onto the stony ground, so she didn’t resist, only stayed quiet in his arms.

And oh, thank God, they were slowly dropping toward the earth, the maelstrom around them quieting as they descended. Hasan obviously thought all the fight had gone out of her. Good. It was far from gone, but she had to bide her time. The second he let go of her, she’d bolt again. One good thing about the light glaring into the yard — it had told her that there was a line of trees not so far away, probably bordering the river. If she could just make it into those trees, then he wouldn’t be able to see her very well. And maybe then she could finally get away.

Alone, and barefoot, in a landscape she didn’t know. She’d still take her chances. If she stayed here with Hasan, she knew all too well what would happen.

Their feet touched the ground. Madison was just about to let out a sigh of relief when the earth below her began to shake and rumble. Caught off balance, Hasan loosened his grasp on her waist. Startled, Madison looked around her, only to see Qadim emerging from the trees, one hand outstretched.

“Run, Madison!” he called to her.

So she ran.

T
hey had materialized
in a wood of pine trees and cottonwood and aspen. Directly at their backs was a small river, or large stream; it chattered away in the darkness, rushing over a bed of smooth stone.

Ahmar pointed off to his left. “That way.”

“How far is the house?” Qadim asked.

“Close. Less than a quarter of a mile. I did not want to come in too near the property for fear that Hasan might hear us. Next to the river like this, the sound of the water masks most noise.”

That it did. Qadim was actually surprised to see how high the river was running, for in the more southern parts of the state, rain hadn’t fallen for many days. But he was glad to hear the water rushing past, for it was as Ahmar had said — it was difficult to hear much else over the sound it made.

“This way,” the other djinn said, and Qadim followed him as they moved through the trees, leaves crunching under their feet. Even in the darkness, Qadim could see how the aspens here had already mostly turned, where in Albuquerque the foliage had not yet begun to shift into its autumn finery.

From somewhere up ahead and to the right, he heard a strange howling sound and tensed. He himself was an earth elemental, and his sister one who controlled the waters, and yet Qadim still knew what that noise meant. An elemental of the air had brought the winds to do his bidding, and that was rarely a good sign.

He began to bolt forward, but Ahmar reached out and grasped him by the arm. “Wait,” he said, his voice an urgent whisper. “It will not do to give away the element of surprise. We are almost there. Wait until you can see what is really happening.”

Wise words, and yet Qadim chafed at having to slow down. Madison could be somewhere up ahead, at Hasan’s mercy, and if he had summoned the winds, most likely that meant he was using them to control her somehow.

Qadim and Ahmar reached the edge of the little wood just in time to see Hasan come to rest in the middle of an open yard that consisted of weeds and rocks and not much else. Held tightly in his arms was Madison.

She looked unharmed, but the rage that awakened at seeing her in Hasan’s embrace did not leave much room for relief. Ignoring Ahmar’s sudden protest, Qadim strode forward, lifting a hand so he might raise the powers of the earth against this djinn who had the temerity to take the one thing he valued above all else.

Hasan stumbled as the ground beneath his feet shifted. Madison looked toward the woods, face pale and frightened in the darkness. The sight only increased Qadim’s anger, but he retained enough control to shout at her that she must run.

She didn’t waste time with protests, but sprinted forward, her long legs propelling her toward the wood where he and Ahmar waited. At the same time, Hasan regained his balance and turned in her direction.

At once a wind arose, buffeting her and pulling at the heavy curls of her hair. She winced, then stumbled — for the first time, Qadim realized she was barefoot — but she did not fall and instead continued toward him, ignoring as best she could the winds that assailed her.

She was strong, but Qadim knew she could not hold out for long against Hasan’s onslaught. “On your knees!” he shouted to her. “You will need to crawl, my love!”

Her eyes widened, but she did as he said, immediately dropping to the ground and moving ahead on all fours. At the same time, he sent another temblor rolling through the earth, one he made sure would crest more or less exactly where Hasan stood. The other djinn staggered, cursing, and the winds tugging at Madison’s hair subsided somewhat. She didn’t look behind her, but continued doggedly, as if she knew that allowing herself to be distracted would only make matters worse.

Then Hasan seemed to recover himself, and raised his arms. Not toward Qadim, but toward Madison.

A dust devil arose in the darkness, surrounding her. She stopped, choking, as the very air was torn from her lungs.

“Leave her alone!” Qadim flung at Hasan. “Your fight is with me!”

“No, I think not,” Hasan replied. He did not sound angry. In fact, an incongruous note of laughter rippled through his voice, as if he was enjoying himself immensely. “For my fight has always been with these worthless humans. You are my friend, Qadim — or at least, I thought you were.”

“No friend of mine would seek to wound the woman I love,” Qadim shouted, and the ground roared in response, so violently that Hasan once again lost his balance, this time falling to his knees. From the house behind him came a groaning sound and a low rumble, as of rocks collapsing.

But the wind still surrounded Madison, who could barely be seen through the whirling column of dust. And then another wind arose, no tornado this time, but a cold blast that felt as if it had come straight down from the mountaintops. Qadim glanced over his shoulder and saw Ahmar standing there, face calm but focused as he brought his own powers to Madison’s aid, summoning a wind that tore through the dust cloud which surrounded her and dispersed it in all directions.

Still coughing, she began to move forward again. Close, so close….

And then she was there at his feet, and his arms were around her, feeling her alive but shaking violently.

“Take her,” Ahmar said. “I will hold him off while you make your escape.”

“He is mine to deal with,” Qadim growled. Surely Ahmar did not think that he would slink away and allow someone else to manage the man who had almost killed Madison.

“Then come back and deal with him later, after your woman is safe,” Ahmar replied. Perspiration showed on his forehead, evidence of the effort he was putting forth to keep Hasan’s demon whirlwinds at bay.

“Please, Qadim,” Madison said, her voice a rough croak. “Take me away from here.”

How could he ignore that plea? He gazed down at her pale, strained face and nodded. And then they were gone, leaving Hasan and Ahmar behind.

* * *

E
very bone
and muscle in her body ached. Madison sat on the bed in Qadim’s penthouse suite and tried not to gasp in pain as he dabbed antiseptic on the torn and bruised soles of her feet. A first aid kit sat open on the nightstand. She wondered where he’d gotten it, but then realized the hotel would have had to keep one somewhere, if only to minister to any workplace-related bumps and bruises.

“How did you know where to find me?” she asked.

Qadim looked up briefly. The worry hadn’t left his dark eyes, but he gave her a tired smile. “I knew that Hasan had been given the territory around Chama. The task of locating you would still have required much searching, if it had not been that one of the Chosen in Santa Fe was born in that area. She helped to narrow down where Hasan might be living, and then her djinn brought me there.”

“You went to Santa Fe?” For some reason, that revelation surprised her. She hadn’t really pried, sensing that he didn’t want to discuss the subject, but she’d gotten the impression that Qadim didn’t have much use for Santa Fe, or the djinn and their Chosen who lived there.

“Yes,” he said briefly. To her relief, he set down the antiseptic and the soft cloth he’d been holding, then placed a pad on the bottom of her foot and began taping it in place. “That is, I went as far north as I could, thinking I might find a horse and ride the rest of the way to Chama.”

“It would have to be a pretty big horse,” Madison remarked, amused despite everything. Her imagination had just put Qadim on the back of one of the Budweiser Clydesdales, and she couldn’t quite keep her mouth from quirking.

“True. But I encountered Zahrias al-Harith’s younger brother in Pojoaque, and Danilar convinced me that it would be best if I spoke with Zahrias and told him why I had such a desperate need to go northward.”

Madison nodded. At the same time, she had to ask, “But why would they even help you? You made it sound as if you weren’t on the best of terms.”

“No, we are not. But Zahrias — or any of his people, really — could not ignore the plight of a woman taken by a djinn with murder on his mind. Unfortunately, Hasan’s exploits are well known.”

A shiver went over her. Delayed reaction, probably, as the room was quite warm, worlds away from the chilly air that had surrounded the house in Chama. Or maybe it was just the memory of Hasan’s harsh grip on her arms, the bruising touch of his lips on hers.

Perhaps disturbed by her silence, Qadim frowned, his gaze locked on her face. “He did not — ”

“No,” she said immediately. She wasn’t defending Hasan, God, no, but she couldn’t have Qadim thinking that the worst had happened. “He seemed more repulsed by me than anything. Disgusting human, and all that. But he did — ” A swallow of air, followed by another. Why was it so hard to spit the words out? Maybe it was just that she was away now and safe, and Qadim was with her, and if she told him everything, he would go back and try to finish what he’d started. She loved him, and couldn’t bear the thought of him putting himself back in harm’s way like that. “He did force a kiss on me. Not to be romantic. Just to — to show me what else he intended. That he was in charge.”

A long, long silence. Qadim sat there at the foot of the bed, the position he’d taken so he could minister to her wounded feet, and said nothing. He felt so very far away, and Madison wished he would move, would come to her so he could hold her and tell her that everything was going to be all right. His eyes were hooded, not meeting hers.

Then he said, “I will kill him.”

“Qadim — ”

“You would plead for him, when he dishonored you so?”

“This has nothing to do with him,” she said desperately, willing him to listen, to not retreat behind djinn notions of honor and retribution. “I don’t want you to kill him because I don’t want you to take that on yourself. It’s not worth it. I’m safe. I’m here. Let it go.”

Scowling, Qadim rose abruptly from the bed and went to the window. What he thought he would see out there, she couldn’t begin to guess, since it was black as pitch outside. “What kind of man would I be to let things lie as they are? And what makes you think that he would do the same? The two of us have unfinished business. You must realize that there is nothing to stop him from coming here and attempting to steal you again.”

Those words sent a chill over Madison. She hadn’t even stopped to contemplate that possibility, thinking that as long as she stuck by Qadim’s side, she should be safe. But the two of them had been locked in a stalemate, and it was only that other djinn — Qadim had told her his name was Ahmar — who had been able to break the impasse and had allowed her to reach safety.

Still, she had to protest, even if she didn’t entirely believe what she was saying. “I don’t think he’ll do that. For one thing, I plan to stick to your side like glue. I hope you don’t mind.” She’d hoped that comment would make him smile, but he only stood by the window like a dark, brooding god, his expression unchanging. “And also, you had one of the djinn from Santa Fe come help you. That’s got to give Hasan pause as well, since he can’t count on that not happening again.”

“It will not happen again,” Qadim said, the words flat, allowing no argument. “We are not allied in any way.”

“But Hasan doesn’t know that for sure.”

Another silence. Qadim touched the curtains that framed the window, the dark, silky fabric flowing under his fingertips. “Do you continue to argue with me in the hope that I will eventually give in?”

“Well, maybe,” she replied, then tilted her head at him. “Is it working?”

At last he smiled, but it was a weary one, barely lifting the corners of his mouth. But he did come away from the window and sit down next to her on the bed. The shifting of the mattress jarred all of Madison’s abused muscles, although she didn’t much care. Far more important that Qadim was here now next to her, his very presence a comfort, even if the things he’d just said certainly were not. She reached out a hand, and he took it. So warm, so strong. She’d never been the type to think she needed a man around, or someone to complete her, but right then she couldn’t help but think it felt damn good to have him there, so solid, so real.

“You are tired,” he said. “This is nothing that needs to be solved tonight. Tell me what you want.”

“You,” she said, and his eyebrows lifted, as if surprised she would have the energy for that sort of thing. “Not sex,” she amended. “I just want you here next to me. I want to lay my head against you, and I want you to hold me if I wake up in the middle of the night.”

“Of course. I will be here for you, my dear.”

He leaned in and placed a kiss against her cheek, very gently, then helped her slip under the covers. When he’d brought her back to the hotel, he’d gotten clean things for her — a tank top and capri-style yoga pants — and had fetched a damp washcloth from the bathroom and cleaned the dust and grime from her face. So she was ready enough to get into bed, even if he wasn’t. She watched as he got up and took off his jeans and T-shirt, then joined her under the covers, wearing only his boxer briefs.

At any other time, the sight would have been enough to get her blood racing. But she’d told him the truth. She was far too exhausted to even think about sex. All she wanted was to lay her head on his chest and have those wonderful muscles of his provide a far better pillow than anything the hotel might provide. His arm went around her, heavy and comforting.