StoneHardPassion (12 page)

There was a tingle of magic, a harbinger of someone, or
something, entering her home, and her heart leapt.

Vidar.

Two running steps took her back to the door, her gaze
swinging around the room, looking for him.

“Were you expecting me, Jasmina Binaar?” For a moment her
brain couldn’t understand or accept the sight of Mahmud standing in her living
room. Her open bag was at his feet. In one hand he held her bottle, in the
other something that flashed emerald-and-gold fire as he twisted it between his
fingers.

My stopper.

Her legs turned to iced jelly and nausea rose in her throat,
making her have to swallow. Clutching the doorjamb, she tried not to show her
terror, knew she’d failed by the way he grinned.

“Surprised?” He lifted one eyebrow mockingly. “Is that
because I’m here, or because I have this?”

He held up the stopper, and Jasmina’s unwilling gaze
followed, riveted. Impossible not to recognize it, remember her shock and
horror the first time she saw it in her father’s hand. Cut from one gigantic
emerald, banded with jinn gold, it was as beautiful as a brightly colored,
highly poisonous snake or the explosion of an annihilation spell.

By the stars.

Instinctively, desperately, she threw a silencing then a
stunning spell, followed with anything else she could think of that may stop
him. But even as she did she knew from his relaxed posture they wouldn’t work.
Again and again he countered, his smile widening to a grin, finally turning to
a laugh as she grew more frantic.

“Tsk, tsk, Jasmina.” He brushed off a sleeping spell with a
wave of one hand. “Did you think I would come unprepared? Our last encounter
showed me all too well how unladylike you’ve become.” With a burst of
unnaturally strong magic he turned her power back on her, freezing her in
place. “Enough now, little bitch.”

Her terror rose as she fought to free herself, until with a
sickening sense of failure, she forced herself to stop. The more she struggled,
the tighter her invisible bonds became. As Mahmud moved, his suit jacket
shifted, exposing a red amulet hanging from a thin chain around his neck. It
must be amplifying his power, increasing it to illegal levels. Marshaling what
little composure she could, she forced her lips to move, saw his surprise that
she was still able to speak.

“Ahmet will kill you.”

For a split second, she saw fear in his eyes, but then he
shook his head. “Your brother cares nothing for your well-being, Jasmina
Binaar. Even if he did, how would he know I had anything to do with your
disappearance? No, you will be mine, without interference from anyone.”

His spell seemed to be growing stronger and it took all her
power to force the words out. “Royal…communique…on…counter. Another…in…bag.”

Mahmud shook his head, but she’d made him look and his smile
faded, the color drained from his face as he saw the box on the counter.

She wanted to tell him that Ahmet would find out, that he
was already looking for the stopper, but his power was now squeezing at her,
making it hard to even draw a breath much less get her voice to work. She hoped
he would listen to the messages, realize the danger he was putting himself in.

“It doesn’t matter.” She wasn’t fooled by the bravado in his
voice, but when he turned his gaze back to her, she realized with a fresh jolt
of terror that he was right. The light in his eyes bordered on madness.

Nothing would stop him—not even the possible rage of his
king.

The magic holding her peaked, turned to a stomach-lurching
pull and, as the apartment disappeared, inside she was screaming.

Vidar!

Chapter Twelve

Vidar followed the sheep down to the night pasture,
operating on muscle memory alone, his head still swimming with anger, his chest
tight with agony. It was stupid to even move the flock since it was so late in
the night, but he had to get out of the house. He couldn’t stay one minute more
and observe Jasmina’s joy as she watched the message from her brother.

She’ll go back. Of course she will.

He was still flabbergasted by what he’d seen in the jinn
court. Such luxury was so beyond anything he’d even imagined, he couldn’t quite
grasp it. No amount of reading about places like that, seeing pictures, could
have prepared him. The palace was a pristine edifice of white marble, massive
enough to make even him feel like a dwarf. As he walked through the wide
corridors, everywhere he looked were golden, jewel-encrusted ornaments, gilded
furniture, silken tapestries and lavish fittings. They dazzled his eyes, made
him even more aware of how much of a bumpkin he was. Meeting King Ahmet, seeing
the members of his court, only reinforced the feeling.

Now he understood the expression “ogre ugly”. He’d looked it
up after hearing Ula say it, had been hurt that the goblin had used it to
describe him. But he’d taken heart. Jasmina clearly didn’t think he was so ugly
a woman would have to be drunk on moonshine mead to go to bed with him. And
she’d woken up beside him several times without being tempted to translocate
away without saying goodbye.

Having seen dozens of the jinn all together in the same
place, he didn’t blame Ula for using that term about him. Surrounded by so many
stunningly beautiful people—men and women—all sophisticated and classy, had
made him want to disappear. And not just from the court, but from existence.
There was no way Jasmina would be able to resist being a part of that again. In
his mind, she was more beautiful than any of the women he’d seen in Eldmar.
They’d worship her the way she deserved.

He magicked the pasture gate open, barely paying attention
as the sheep streamed in, chivvied along by Ragnor and Rokk. Once they were all
in, he closed the gate behind them, staying outside. The need to move, to go
into the woods and get back to the nature he loved, was overwhelming. If he
were honest with himself, the jinn court hadn’t only humbled him, in a strange
way it had frightened him too. He felt infected, as though a remnant of it was
stuck in his brain, releasing the poison of discontent into his blood.

Turning away, he started down into the trees, moving
parallel to the path, walking as quickly as possible, chased by his thoughts.

It wasn’t as though he’d ever longed for luxury. Not at all.
When he read about other beings fighting or stealing to increase what they had,
it was distasteful. The artificial beauty of the jinn court didn’t thrill him
like moonlight on the trees or the flight of an owl, its haunting cries echoing
on the wind. But the effect of seeing Jasmina’s home was still profound, and
far more frightening. That luxury, the beauty, could take her away from him,
and in threatening to do so made him want to have what he couldn’t—
be
what he couldn’t—so as to keep her at his side.

He should be happy for her, he knew. Maybe one day, sitting
by his kitchen fire or tending his orchids, he’d be able to think of her with
only a small pang of sadness. Surely a being couldn’t carry this kind of pain
forever? By Freyja, he hoped not, for right now his chest was being crushed by
the almost unbearable agony of her loss.

Breaking from the trees, Vidar began to run down the sloping
mountain meadow stretched out before him, going as fast as he could through the
snow. The breath heaved in and out of his straining lungs, the muscles of his
legs began to ache. Welcoming the physical pain, hoping it would negate the
emotional storm tearing his insides apart, he pushed himself harder.

As fast as he went, he couldn’t outrun the memories, the images
of Jasmina emblazoned on his heart. The way she laughed, the dichotomy of
curses coming from her perfectly feminine mouth, gladdened his heart. The easy
affection that had her touching him as soon as he was within reach moved him
each time. He pictured her eyes gleaming up at him when they made love, long
lashes fluttering as passion built between them. He knew when she was getting
close to orgasm by the little whimpers breaking from her sweetly parted lips,
the way her eyelids drooped and finally closed. Sometimes she came with a
delicious cry of release. Other times it was almost silent, her body bowing,
displaying the ecstasy firing through her blood.

He’d first known he was falling in love with her when he
realized she made him feel normal—not a troll, but just a regular being. The
fall was completed when he realized she made him feel not just normal but like
a normal
man
. It was something he’d never experienced before—never
expected to experience. Now he’d come to crave it more than food, than water.
The knowledge that she saw him, liked him, desired him, made him complete.

And he was on the verge of losing her, the end of this ideal
moment of life coming at him as swiftly as the edge of the meadow and the cliff
beyond. Exhausted, heartbroken, he put on a last burst of speed, plowing
through the snow toward the cliff, tempted, oh, so tempted to just keep going,
right off into the night and down, down to the rocks.

He stopped, his boots slipping with the abruptness of the
motion, his impetuousness almost making his selfish, childish wish to put an
end to it all come true. Panting, he stood on the very brink, still daring fate
to make the ground crumble under his feet.

Below lay one of the high valleys that bisected the
mountains, snow-covered and beautiful in the light of the setting moon. As the
seasons changed the vista did too, showing every possible facet of nature.
Although he didn’t get to see it in daylight, his specialized eyesight allowed
him to distinguish the difference from one day to the next, appreciate each
moment in the clear atmosphere.

Not tonight. Tonight it meant nothing to him.

He was about to turn away when the wind suddenly picked up,
buffeting him, first seeming intent on pushing him over the cliff and then
howling the other way, blowing stinging snow into his face.

Coward.

The word originated in the quickening tempest, made every
hair on his body come to attention as he recognized Freyja’s voice.

Coward.

“Forgive me, my goddess.” He whispered it, even as he
wondered whether she was berating him for giving up on the love he’d found, or
for not going over the cliff. “Forgive me.”

As abruptly as the wind started, it stopped, leaving him
once more alone. But as he looked down into the valley, he realized something
had changed. Once he had looked out from the edge of this meadow and seen the
ground below as the boundary of his world. Now his world had expanded, his life
had expanded, because of Jasmina. Because of her the fears that once kept him
locked away from others had been fought and conquered.

Now, he decided, was time to fight again, do whatever it
took to show her they belonged together. Maybe he wouldn’t win, but that was a
chance he had to take. He couldn’t allow cowardice and fear to make him give
up.

Hope and anxiety gnawing at his belly, he translocated back
to the home meadow. Taking a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair,
all too aware of his damp, disheveled state, he pushed the kitchen door open.
Stepping inside, he saw Jasmina standing in front of the fireplace and his
heart leapt with pleasure. Then she started to speak, and he realized it was
just a jinn illusion, a message similar to the one sent by her brother.

“Vidar, I wanted to say I’m sorry for the way I acted
earlier. I know you were trying to help, to protect me and I apologize for
acting like such a bitch.”

The image paused, and Vidar noticed how puffy her eyelids
were, the lashes spiky with the remnants of her tears. It made his heart ache
to know she’d been sad or happy, whatever the emotion, and he’d walked away
instead of taking her into his arms, offering his support.

“I’ve decided to go home…”

The sudden buzzing in his ears blocked the rest of what she
was saying.

She’s gone back to Eldmar.

He suddenly realized, despite his fears her brother’s invitation
would be irresistible he’d hoped with all his heart it wouldn’t be. It had been
surprisingly easy to get into the palace to speak to King Ahmet. One mention of
Jasmina’s name had gained him entrance. Somehow he was sure it wouldn’t be
quite so easy if he tried to get in once Jasmina was back in the protective
arms of her brother. He’d seen the disdainful looks sent his way by the
courtiers, even the servants.

Shaking his head, he clenched his fists. He’d get in,
somehow. Or hang around the souk until she came out if he had to.

“So, I hope that’s okay with you.” Her voice suddenly
registered and he realized that, lost in his reverie, he’d missed something she
was saying and had no clue how to replay the message. She was smiling, but her
eyes seemed overly bright and she twined her fingers together, as though
distraught. “I have to water my plants anyway, and I might stop by the Café.
But I’ll come back some time after sunset and we can talk this out.” She lifted
her chin and his heart ached to see the innate arrogance, softened by the
slight tremble of her lips. “Don’t stay mad at me, Vidar. I think what we have
together is strong enough to survive a misunderstanding like this.” Another
wobbly smile and a wave, and the illusion faded.

Water my plants…stop by the Café.

Her words echoed in his head, and Vidar leaned against the
counter, relief making his heart race and his legs weak.

She hadn’t left him behind, gone back to Eldmar. Instead,
thanks
be to Freyja
, she’d only retreated to her apartment. And she wanted to try
to work things out. At least that’s what he thought he’d heard. His mind had
gone hazy once he realized his initial fears were unfounded. That momentary fog
had lifted, and now a river of excitement flowed through his veins.

A glance at the chronometer made him curse under his breath.
More than two hours before she’d be back. Far too long for him to sit around
stewing about what she was going to say. Urgency was rising like a fire in his
blood, fanned by Freyja’s accusation of cowardice. If boldness was what it took
to win Jasmina, to show her how much he loved her, then he would be as daring
as even the goddess could want.

There was time to go to her and beg her not to wait, but to
come back with him immediately, hopefully to start their new life together.
Doubt tried to erode his determination. A little voice whispered Jasmina might
not wish the kind of relationship he craved, but he wouldn’t allow it to
discourage him. Knowing if he lingered misgivings might get the better of him,
he immediately translocated to Jasmina’s apartment.

As he rematerialized in her living area, he saw her,
standing in the kitchen doorway and everything—his love, need and desire for
her—crashed through him, rendering him blind to everything but her.

But, just as he was about to move, go to her, he stiffened,
his brain finally interpreting what his eyes were seeing.

Jasmina looked terrified, her wide-eyed gaze locked on the
man across the room.

Mahmud.

Standing on the exact spot where Jasmina and he had made
love, holding something in his hand that gleamed when the jinn shrugged and
spoke.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Jasmina’s outline wavered. In a sickening instant her body
became shadowy, insubstantial, and then dissolved into a stream of
green-and-gold smoke that streaked across the room and into the bottle Mahmud
held in his hand. With a sharp, decisive
clack
, the jinn inserted the
stopper.

There was no thought, no pause to consider, not even an
audible venting of the rage turning the edges of his vision to blood-red. All
Vidar knew was the need to tear Mahmud’s head from his body, destroy—no
annihilate
—him.

With one spring he crossed the room, fingers already
curling, reaching for the jinn’s neck. At the last moment Mahmud must have
sensed Vidar’s furious rush and began to turn, already casting a spell. As the
powerful magic slammed into him, Vidar still tried to grab hold of the jinn.
His fingers closed on cloth and metal, instead of flesh, tight enough that as
he was repelled he tore Mahmud’s jacket and shirt, came away with the pieces of
fabric and an amulet clutched in his fingers. The force of his assault spun the
other man off balance and, as Vidar slammed backward into the dining table, he
saw Jasmina’s bottle fly up into the air.

Break, dammit! Break!

But the jinn magic was too strong to be so easily
circumvented. The bottle hit the rug near Mahmud’s feet, bounced and rolled out
of sight beneath the couch.

The other man bent to try to retrieve it, but Vidar had
already launched forward again. And this time, as the jinn’s magic fired out
Vidar instinctively responded with his own, somehow absorbing the spell and
hitting the jinn in the stomach with a shoulder. They crashed to the ground,
Vidar reaching once more for Mahmud’s throat.

The jinn translocated out from under him and Vidar rolled
over, expecting to see him trying once more for Jasmina’s bottle. But Mahmud
wasn’t beside the couch. Instead he was by the window. With a flash of savage
satisfaction, Vidar saw how heavily Mahmud was breathing and the way he clutched
his stomach.

But Mahmud was also smiling through the pain twisting his
lips.

“An impasse, I think, troll. If you try to go for the
bottle, I’ll blast you with my magic. If I try, you’ll attempt to beat me to a
pulp. We could be at this for a while.”