The Azar Omnibus: The Complete Azar Trilogy (The Azar Trilogy Book 0)

by Grace McGinty

  “I am the Director of the Adel, not Bast, and I have been for the last hundred years. I’m not so insecure that I need to send away my competition. So you can lose the hard done by attitude, because quite frankly, you've had it good so far."

  Her cheeks flushed red. What was her problem? Ever since she'd donned the Anadari Bracelets that marked her as a slave, she was no longer herself. She felt like an insect in a world filled with giants. She was so out of her depth, with none of her prized control that she'd worked so hard to gain in her previous life. The loss of the last familiar thing from her old life just hit her hard. Her face crumbled and tears lodged in her throat, but she kept it in. She'd embarrassed herself enough in front of Killian.

  She pushed herself up off the table and into a sitting position, ignoring the shooting pain in her wrist. Killian was staring at her face, like he was trying to hold her tears in her eye ducts using Jedi mind tricks. In the end, he just threw his hands up in the air and gave her a frustrated look.

  "Go cool off in your room while I try to undo the mess you've created." He stopped at the door. "Actually, get the hell out of here. I'm giving you the day off. Go visit a park, or a strip club or whatever it is that gets your panties unbunched. But whatever you do, lose the self-pity, because it will only get you killed around here."

  With that he walked out of the conference room, and she was banished like a naughty child.

  Chapter 11

  Azar's car was still in the parking lot of her apartment building, so she had to catch a cab from the compound. When she slid into the back seat, she'd directed the driver to the first place that popped into her head. Now, standing outside of her old firehouse, she wondered what the hell she was thinking.

  She’d been lost in her thoughts on the way over, everything swirling around in her mind, but she'd made one decision on the cab ride. She refused to spend the next fifty years brooding over what she had lost, trying desperately to hold onto the little bit of normalcy she had achieved. It would be pointless and painful. She needed to accept the things she couldn't change, otherwise she was going to do something stupid and end up dead. As bad as slavery was, having her wrists squished to the point of amputation was worse.

  She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. She knew what she had to do, and she knew it would be painful, but it was the best thing for her sanity at this point.

  After her ‘accident’ on the Staten Island Ferry, the fire house hadn't blinked when she said she'd like to change her position from full-time to relief firefighter, just until she was back on her feet, both mentally and physically.

  This had been the Adel's idea of course. It had been agreed by the powers that be that having a presence in the FDNY was a good thing, but they weren't going to just let her continue on with her life the way it was. So they'd gradually eased her out of the position, under the guise of PTSD.

  Now, when she walked through the roller doors of the fire house, the cheers of welcome warmed her soul. The guys were doing equipment checks, and they dropped what they were doing to come over and slap her on the back, some of the guys wrapping her in those big bear hugs she missed so much. Everyone talked and laughed at once, and she fielded their questions on her health and well-being as best she could. They were a great group of guys, as close to brothers as you could get in this job, and there was a lot of love and respect in the house.

  Joe was the last one to come up and hug her tightly. Joe had been her best friend before everything went down, and she loved him and his family like her own.

  Azar stepped back and looked at him cautiously. "Can we go somewhere to talk?" Concern lowered Joe's naturally bushy eyebrows, his face instantly serious. Joe was Italian; he had dark haired good looks and a good guy smile. He led her into one of the firehouse's closed cubicles.

  "Are you okay?" he asked as she shut the door behind her.

  "I'm fine. How is Linda? Has she had the baby yet?" Azar felt terrible that she didn't know. They were like family, and she'd just dropped off the face of the earth, not a word in over a month.

  Joe’s face broke into a grin. "Yeah, three weeks ago. A girl!" Joe already had three boys, and Linda had told her repeatedly how desperately she wanted a girl. She was glad she had finally gotten her wish. She would have to send an oversized teddy bear and flowers around to the house, or something. She missed Linda and the Marconi’s.

  She sucked in a large breath, and let it out as a sigh. "Joe, I've decided to take a trip, just get away. Go back to my roots, to my people, until I get my head on straight. I've got myself a training position over there, and it will give me a chance to really get to know my heritage.” Let him think she was talking about going to Iran. “Since the accident, nothing has felt right. I just need some time to figure everything out, re-evaluate what I want in life."

  There was a kernel of truth wrapped tightly in that swath of lies. She was so good at this now. Half-truths were beginning to come naturally to her.

  Joe sat down on an office chair. He nodded once, but he looked sad. "We're going to miss you. We already miss you."

  It broke her heart. She was going to miss them too. “It’s only for a little while.”

  Lie.

  She knew that she would never see any of them again. Joe would be an old man by the time her servitude was complete, and she would have barely aged a day. It was best to let go of them now. It was inevitable that she would have had to do this eventually, but she'd hoped to have another decade with them at least.

  "I'll miss you too. But while I'm gone, I need a favor." She pulled her car keys out of her pocket. "I want you to take care of my baby."

  Her car was a beautiful Shelby, and Joe had coveted it since the first time he’d laid eyes on it. Now, his mouth dropped open in shock. "I'll sign the pink slip over to you, and then it’s all yours until I get back. Drive her, love her, okay? I don't want her sitting around wasting away because you are too scared you'll wreck her. She was made to be driven. But be careful, you aren't a Formula One driver and she's getting old," she scolded semi-seriously. As a rule, she never let anyone drive her car, but she had no use for it now, and wouldn’t for a long, long time.

  Joe was clearly excited to be able to drive her baby, but there was a shadow across his face.

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Az? You’re getting help, right? You aren’t thinking of doing anything permanent? Because we love you, and if you need help, Linda knows people and we’ll support you every step of the way.”

  She looked at him confused, and then it dawned on her. He thought she was giving him her car because she was going to end her life. They’d been taught that someone giving away their possessions was a sign of someone planning to commit suicide. It had been in the mandatory training. They’d plucked a lot of people off a lot of ledges over the years.

  Tears welled in her eyes, and she wrapped her arms around her friend, letting his warmth envelope her one last time. “I’m fine, Joe. I’m not going to do anything desperate. But thank you so much for caring for me like that. I’m so…” She didn’t know what to say, especially when she really was saying goodbye. She pulled back, and cleared her throat, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks. “I should go see Fuentes. I’ll see you soon. Give my love to the family, yeah?”

  He nodded and she gave a little wave as she walked down the long corridor to the back of the building where the Captain Fuentes’ tiny office occupied a corner. The corridor held the pictures of firefighters from the house that had died on duty in the last hundred years. All of them looked proud and fearless in their dress uniforms. Azar was glad she wouldn’t be here to see the faces of any of her friends in those simple black frames. It was a dangerous job, if you weren't an invulnerable fire being.

  Fuentes was a stocky man, who had seen a lot, which had resulted in him going prematurely grey. Or maybe it was keeping up with his former Russian Prima Ballerina wife that had sent him grey. When he looked up from his paperwork, he see
med genuinely happy to see her.

  "Nazemi, come on in. Ready to return to full duty?" He indicated for her to sit on the chair in front of his desk. She cleared her throat uncomfortably.

  "No, Sir. In fact, I've come here to resign. I've gotten a job offer at a training facility in Iran, and have decided to pursue it." The Captain looked as shocked as Joe had but she pressed on. "I just really want to thank you for all the support and opportunities you have given me in the past couple of years, Sir. It has meant the world to me to have the support of someone I respect so greatly." The Captain smiled warmly, but shook his head.

  "Geez Nazemi, you don't have to lay it on quite so thick, I was already going to give you a good reference." He gave her a wink and chuckled, before his face turned more serious. "I support you with whatever you need to do, Azar. You know there are groups and professionals that the FDNY can put you in touch with, if this is about your abduction. But if you think a change in scenery is what you need, then I wish you the very best of luck.” He gave her a cheeky grin, that hinted at the humor beyond his normally formal demeanor. “But remember, there is always a place for you within the walls of this firehouse if you get sick of the sand and the soaring temperatures.”

  Now it was her turn to laugh, and stood to shake the Captain's hand.

  "I'll email you my formal resignation Sir, just wanted to let you known in person." The Captain nodded and that was that. She said goodbye, and sent her love to his wife, Natalya.

  For the next two hours she mingled among her friends and colleagues, saying goodbye to her old life. She laughed and reminisced, and by the time she walked out of the roller doors, tears stung the back of her eyes. But she wasn't finished yet.

  Azar called the one person she'd been trying to avoid for three months. Keenan.

  The Onyx felt strange during the day. There were no screaming metal bands, or Goth teens dressed all in black with metal dripping from their bodies. In fact, in the daylight, The Onyx seemed almost dull.

  She said hello to the Were security guards as she walked in, some giving her a friendly, but forceful, pat on the back. She felt bruised by the time she left their group and made it to the bar.

  Oliver was stocking the bar with a petite woman, definitely human. Oliver looked up and grinned, lifting her day instantly.

  "Hey babe," he drawled. He jumped the bar to hug her, and she held him tightly. She needed a really good cuddle today. He held her shoulders and looked down into her face. "I heard you went all cray-cray on the head of the Adel. I have to tell you Az, that’s not a good way to stay alive and intact." His words were light but his tone was serious.

  She nodded, not even questioning where he’d gotten his intel from. By the end of the day, she was pretty sure the whole paranormal community would know she'd tried to fry the head of the Adel, which would make her a laughingstock. If they didn't decide to behead her for treason.

  Oliver asked the girl behind the bar to pour her a whiskey on the house, and the girl gave her a dirty look. Azar wondered if she would spit in her ice.

  Azar raised an eyebrow at Oliver. "You really shouldn't sleep with people you are working with; trust me I know."

  Oliver gave her a too innocent shrug. “Wasn’t me. I’m waiting for you to wake up one morning and decide you can’t live without me.” She rolled her eyes but smiled.

  Oliver handed her the whiskey, and directed her to a booth at the back. "Speaking of which, he's over there."

  She sighed, straightening her shoulders, and walked over to booth where Keenan was sitting. Across from him was another woman, a Djinn, probably Sila if she didn't miss her guess. The woman turned, giving Azar a dirty look as she slid out of the booth. Apparently, it was a day for hating on Azar.

  She took the Sila’s place across from Keenan and smiled warmly. She'd forgotten how handsome he was, with his black Irish features, and those blue eyes. He was a heartbreaker.

  "Who’s the woman?" Azar asked, mainly curious, but if she was honest with herself, a little jealous.

  “Aaliyah; she's Danian's partner. My other handler." There was warmth in his tone, and Azar's jealousy grew until she squashed it. She couldn't have her cake and eat it too. So she just nodded.

  "Judging by the stink eye she gave me just now, I think there’s other parts of you she'd like to handle."

  Keenan choked a little on his drink. “I’ve sworn off women, especially the mythical, I-didn’t-know-they-even-existed type,” he said as he scowled down at his glass, as if it was the whiskey’s fault he choked.

  “Not even the beautiful Aaliyah?” Not even me? The subtext was there, but she refused to say it out loud. She was here to break up with him, good and proper. “It’s probably a good thing. Nothing but disaster can come from going there.”

  He stared at her, a mirthless smile on his face. He didn't have to say the words; she knew the irony of the statement. Her warning him off the Djinn, when she had been the cause of his precarious position in their world in the first place.

  "I know, I know. I'm sorry. I hate myself for you being in this situation. I think I have a stomach ulcer with your name on it. I just want you to be careful is all." He gave her a poker face and leaned back in the booth, looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  "Why did you ask me to come here, Azar? Danian told me that he has been giving you status reports when you ask."

  Azar had thanked her lucky stars every day that he'd drawn Danian as his handler. There were other Adel in the intelligence division that he could have had, one of the Ghul or the Shaitan, and his life would have been significantly more perilous, and probably a damn sight shorter.

  "I just needed to reassure myself that you were okay. If anything happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I know that this is difficult for you, these dual worlds and allegiances. I just want you to know that I haven't just dropped you in the proverbial shark tank and left you there to be torn to pieces. If you need my help, I'll give it to you the best I can."

  But it all seemed so inadequate. She'd broken his heart and stolen his life, and no amount of promises could fix that. His eyes ran over her face, assessing her.

  Finally, he shrugged. "I'm fine. My welfare is not your problem anymore, you made that pretty clear. But if it makes you feel better, after the initial shock of the whole thing, I've adapted. I like Danian and Aaliyah, and we've figured out a mutually beneficial way to get along. I'm not here pining over the one that got away.” He gave her a hard look that reminded her of the Keenan she'd known before she'd seen him naked, but beneath that she could see the hurt that was hiding deep in his heart. “When you didn't return my calls, I figured you'd meant what you said when you left."

  She'd never gotten any of his calls, being underground in the Adel compound meant no cell reception, but she wasn't going to tell him that. This was the best way. Let him think that she didn’t care, even though right now her heart felt like someone was stabbing at it with hot pokers.

  He finished his drink and stood, coming around to help her out of the booth. Her head knew that letting him go was the best idea, she was sure of that much.

  When she was standing toe to toe with Keenan Reilly one last time, he leaned close until his whiskey infused breath brushed against her cheeks. "I'm not going to tell you that I wasn't angry and hurt, because I was. But you know what they say, time heals all wounds." He closed the distance and his lips touched hers, a gentle shadow of a kiss. “Well, time and anonymous rebound sex." He grinned, and stepped away. Her mouth dropped open, and her heart hammered against her chest. Apparently, some leopards never changed their spots. Or should she say some tomcats. Keenan Reilly had been the Casanova of the NYPD for as long as she'd been at the fire department.

  Aaliyah must have decided her beau had spent enough time with his former flame, and came over to stand at the booth.

  "It's time to go, Reilly. We have work to do." She turned to Azar and gave her the once over. Azar had the feeling she'd been f
ound unworthy. “Ifrit."

  Keenan winked over his shoulder as he left, looking every bit as handsome and roguish as he had when she’d first met him. Swallowing hard, she ground her back teeth to stop herself from doing something stupid. This was for the best.

  “Bye, Reilly.” And it felt like a real goodbye. She had a life that wasn’t a safe place for a mortal man with a short life span. She repeated this over and over in her head until her heart got the message.

  Azar ducked her head into Donovan's back office but he wasn’t in. While she was ignoring the obvious, she decided not to examine the sense of disappointment she felt when she didn’t get to see the testy Shaitan.

  Wandering back to the bar, she flopped heavily onto a stool. She'd finally cut all ties to the human world and all that was left was to get very, very drunk.

  She smacked a hundred bucks on the bar. "Hey Oliver, I'm under strict orders to get my panties unbunched, so rack up the tequilas."

  Oliver grinned and grabbed a bottle of Patrón and two shot glasses. "I'm done for the day, so I'll join you. It's unhealthy to do shots alone." He sat down on the stool next to her, and poured out two shots. She grabbed hers and held it in the air to toast.

  "To unbunching panties," she toasted.

  "To going commando so bunching never happens,” he countered.

  They clinked their shot glass and downed the first shot, and the second shot in rapid succession.

  “Bast is being shuttled off to Europe for the next fifty years,” she said, grabbing the bottle of Patrón and pouring another shot.

  “Ah, so that’s why you went full nutbar at Big Bro. I'm really sorry Az, you know I have your back if you ever need me. I love your crazy ass.” He gave her a one arm hug from the bar stool next to her. “And it's quite an ass.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek hard. “Hey, now the old guy is gone, does it mean I'm in with a chance?” He teased hopefully.