Before I could shout a warning, Trevor fired two shots. One dropped the hawk to the floor in a small explosion of feathers. The other blasted through Tory’s shoulder and drove him to his knees.
Again, Lenka seemed to move instantly. He appeared behind Akila, wrapped both arms around her upper body, and dragged her away from Tory. “I do not agree to your terms,” he said with a nasty grin. “Kemosiri would sooner allow you to remain banished forever than lift the barrier for us. But take heart, rayani. I have a proposal for you.”
Akila squirmed in his grasp, ranting away in djinn. Lenka held fast. “Since I have declined your bargain, do you think I will hesitate to hurt your precious Gahiji-an if you make things difficult?”
She went limp.
While Lenka secured Akila in place, Trevor produced his cell phone and called for reinforcements. Within minutes, three armed thugs joined us—four and a half, if you took into account Leonard and the theory of relativity.
“Now, then. Here is my offer.” Lenka pointed to Ian. “Produce his tether, and I will destroy him quickly. And I will also refrain from slaughtering your entire clan when I return to the realm.” A smile snaked across his mouth. “I guarantee this is your best option, and I suggest you take it. You will not like the alternative.”
“She agrees.” Ian’s voice still cracked, but it sounded stronger. Almost commanding. “Swear to return her unharmed, and you will have my tether.”
Lenka smirked. “I swear it.”
“No.” Akila struggled to free herself. “Please. I will bring you to the realm. Somehow. Let him live . . .” She trailed off into sobs. Even she’d realized the futility of reasoning with Lenka.
“Taregan,” Ian gasped. “You must retrieve my tether and bring it here. The thief cannot break the seal.”
Tory groaned and lurched to his feet. “I can’t . . .”
“She must live. Protect your rayani. I do not matter.”
Lenka drifted closer to Ian. “Those may be the most intelligent words you have uttered in your entire life. How far is it? I do not want to wait long.”
“Miles. Buried in a garbage dump. If you are in such a hurry . . .” He choked and let out an anguished groan. “Have one of your rats drive him,” he finally breathed.
Lenka turned his vicious gaze on Tory. “No. I have a better idea.”
CHAPTER 35
Trevor had one of his thugs bring a full-length mirror into the sitting room.
“Go.” Lenka shoved Tory toward it. “You have ten minutes. If you are not back, I will start killing them. And hurting the ones who cannot die yet.”
Tory glared at him. “It’s not enough time. I need to lift a couple of cars, and I’m spent.”
“Fine. Fifteen, then.”
For a moment, Tory didn’t move. “You won’t defeat Kemosiri. Our clan outnumbers yours. You’ll be wiped out, just like his.” He motioned to Ian but didn’t look in his direction.
Lenka gave him an ugly smile. “That is why we plan to send the humans first. Did you think us idle for the last four centuries? Our army is poised to invade, once the barrier is broken. We will not fail again.”
I recognized the look on Tory’s face. He and I’d just arrived at the same conclusion. Lenka told us his plans—and that meant none of us would leave this room alive, no matter what promises they made.
“You are down to fourteen minutes, Bahari. I suggest you move faster.”
“Son of a—” Jaw set, Tory positioned himself in front of the mirror. He used blood from the wound in his shoulder to paint a symbol on the glass.
Ian croaked something in djinn. Tory paused, winced. He pulled the dupe he carried from a pocket and dropped it on the floor. “That’s not real,” he said weakly. “Don’t bother testing it.” It took him another minute to gather his resolve, cast the bridge, and step through.
“Lenka,” Akila whispered. “Let me say good-bye. Please.”
“Very well.”
He released her, and she crossed the room slowly. Ian managed to lift his head enough to look at her. She raised a hand, and her fingertips hovered just short of his battered face. “Ana uhibbuk,” she said.
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Ana bahibbik.”
I didn’t need a translation for love.
Privacy was a moot point, but I still looked away from them. All the better to concentrate on my own impending demise. And Jazz—what I wouldn’t give to make the same deal with Trevor that Ian had with Lenka. Anything to let her live. Everything I had. Unfortunately, one hundred percent of nothing was still nothing.
At least Cyrus wasn’t here. I assumed he’d been left with Lark, since I knew Akila wouldn’t have deserted him in the djinn realm. Maybe Lark would make a better father than me.
“Donatti.”
Jazz pulled me back to reality. I met her eyes with a questioning expression. God, she was beautiful.
“Know what you’re thinking,” she said.
Smiling hurt, but I did it anyway. “No, you don’t.”
“He’s safe.”
“I know.” So that was it. She thought I blamed her for putting Cyrus in danger. But it was her I worried about. Much as I’d really rather not die, she had more to lose. More to regret. She wouldn’t get to see Cyrus grow up. He would spend his life in hiding with Lark or, more likely, in a string of orphanages and foster homes and stretches of hard-scrabble solitude. Like father, like son.
The thought wrenched my gut. Growing up alone never did me any favors. It wasn’t the life I wanted for him. But at least he would be around to live it.
Jazz hung her head. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.” I waited until she looked at me. “Don’t be,” I insisted. “None of this is your fault, Jazz. I’m sorry . . .” For leaving when you needed me. For dragging you into this. For getting you killed. “. . . For everything.”
Her lips twitched. “I love you. Just so you know.”
“Love doesn’t cover it for me,” I said. “I . . . worship you. Always have.”
“Now you tell me.”
“Better late than never.”
Jazz glanced at the nearest gun-toting thug. “This is pretty fucking late.”
“Still have ten minutes.”
“Enough,” Trevor said from somewhere behind me. “You’ve had your moment. Now, stay quiet, unless you want to start screaming again.”
Jazz clamped her lips together. Her eyes glittered with restrained emotion, but I couldn’t tell whether she was about to cry or laugh.
I knew which one I’d choose.
Despite my intense desire to spend the rest of my shrinking life in my head, away from reality, my brain insisted on assessment. A good thief always had a backup plan. I didn’t at the moment, but years of necessary resourcefulness insisted there had to be a way out of this. An alternative escape route, a window I’d missed. An outcome that was less final than death.
Nothing came to mind. But I did feel different. The agony racing through my body had throttled back to mere excruciating pain. I could speak without sounding as if my mouth was full of marbles. My mutilated fingertips zinged with pins and needles.
I glanced at the hand tied to the arm of the chair. One of my nails had grown back.
Ian. It had to be him—but how? He barely had enough power to stay conscious. I looked over his way. Akila still stood in front of him, and it seemed they’d lapsed into the part of good-bye that didn’t need words. But I thought I saw his fingers move. Just a little.
I had to conclude that he thought there was still a chance. Damned if I knew what that chance was, though.
TORY DIDN’T WALK BACK THROUGH THE MIRROR. HE FELL through and landed facedown on the floor with one arm outstretched. His fingers curled loosely around Ian’s tether.
Lenka snatched it from him before the mirror’s surface had returned to normal.
We’d all been returned to our designated death stations. For some reason, Trevor had dismissed the thugs. Maybe he
thought they were too stupid to witness death by magic, but I didn’t think it would faze them. Murder was murder. And they’d already seen Lenka’s ugly mug.
I’d gained another nail. Compared with thirty minutes or so ago, I felt downright perky. For all the good it’d do me.
Lenka prodded Tory’s limp form with a toe and nodded in Trevor’s direction. “Make sure he does not interfere.”
“Gladly.” Trevor stepped up and emptied the rest of the gun into Tory’s back.
Both women screamed. Jazz’s cry was peppered with choice names for Trevor—half of them too dirty to scrawl on a bathroom wall. I wished I could join them, but I was too pissed off to open my mouth.
Silence settled like dust over the wake of the violent outburst. I made a mental sketch of our conditions, still trying to thwart the inevitable. Had to scratch Tory from the list of possibilities. Shamil—or what was left of him—hadn’t stirred since Trevor shot him. Ian remained somewhat alert, but he was bleeding like a wet newspaper. Grief had paralyzed Akila; fury did the same for Jazz.
That left me. So we were out of luck.
Lenka drew the dagger and lodged the sheath on the back end of the handle. “I almost desire to find this another trick,” he said. “It would extend my enjoyment. However, I suspect you have run out of surprises.” He approached Ian, wiped the flat of the blade across his bloodied chest, and repeated the gesture with the other side. Streaks of golden light shone through the crimson coating near the base of the blade. Ian’s symbol.
Akila gave a desperate sob. Lenka grinned.
“Do not trouble yourself, rayani.” He gazed almost fondly at the dagger and watched until the glowing symbol faded. “Once we have taken the realm, I will allow you to remain in my court. You will become my favored hag’gar.”
Something in my head spit a loose translation—sex toy—an instant before Ian’s guttural curse confirmed the Morai’s intent.
“I would sooner take my own life,” Akila said. “You will not have me.”
Lenka’s twisted smile vanished. “The choice is not yours. If you do not give yourself of your will, I shall take it from you.”
“You will not have the opportunity, Lenka.” Ian trailed off to harsh, wracking coughs. When the spell abated, he rasped, “You cannot take the realm.”
“Two score strong we are, and a hundred times that in human fodder.” Lenka sneered. “Kemosiri and his bloated, simpering Council will fall within a fortnight. The moment your life ends, our rule begins. Over both realms.”
I shuddered. Given free rein, even a handful of djinn could take over the world—and we pathetic humans couldn’t do a damn thing to stop them.
“Well, then,” Ian said evenly. “Why do you still wait? You hold the key to your kingdom in your hand.”
Lenka glanced at the bloodied dagger. “I did swear to destroy you quickly, Gahiji-an,” he said, wiping the blade clean again on his own robe. “So be it.”
Ian straightened as much as possible within the ropes. “Thank you.”
“What?”
“It is about time.” A constant tremor threaded Ian’s voice, as if it took everything he had to push the words out. “I thought you would never destroy me. I welcome death at your hands.”
“What trickery is this?” Lenka roared. “You cannot be grateful, you pathetic wretch.”
Ian returned his glare without blinking. “You murdered my father. You have wiped out my entire clan. What better way for me to join them? And you have already sworn to destroy me, so you cannot stop now. Send me home, Lenka.”
“No.” Lenka sputtered. “I will not allow . . . wait.” He stared at the dagger and turned in a slow half-circle. His blood-red eyes settled on me. “You will finish him.”
Ian snarled the protest that refused to leave my clenched throat.
“Yes. It is beautiful. What is it you humans say? Ironic.” Lenka spoke in a soft, deadly cadence. “Ah, Gahiji-an. You have trained your pet to destroy me, and now it will be used against you.”
My voice returned. I started to refuse, but a look from Ian stopped me. He wanted me to do it. Was it the principle of the thing or something else?
Lenka advanced, holding the gleaming copper blade in front of him like a shield. The dagger captured my reflection in miniature, throwing my pitiful condition back in my face. My mind seized the image. And a single, absolutely insane idea stole my breath.
“I see this troubles you.” Lenka flashed his fangs. “I would suggest you consider this an honorable gesture, but thieves do not hold honor in regard.” He touched my ropes. They loosened and slithered away. “On your feet.”
With shaking legs and a heart that threatened to hammer my ribcage apart, I complied. I might have found a window, but even Houdini would have trouble squeezing through this one.
CHAPTER 36
It wasn’t hard to feign complete weakness. I dropped to one knee and let the dagger fall from my hand. Groaned, picked it up. “Think I’ll stay here.” I gasped.
“Get on with it,” Lenka snapped. “And do not attempt to play the hero, or your woman will die slowly.”
I gritted my teeth. His implication was clear. Slowly, as opposed to quickly after I killed Ian. “Don’t worry about me,” I said. “Couldn’t stab a marshmallow now.”
I drew the blade across my palm, wincing at the fresh pain. Utter silence mocked my ridiculous attempt at a plan. I couldn’t let Lenka hear me. Ian’s distraction act would’ve been useful right about now. Hell, I’d even take a fan or a ticking clock. Or an argument. Maybe I could start one.
“Hey, Jazz,” I said softly. “Remember Philly?”
A puzzled expression flitted across her face. Anger chased it away.
“Actually, I do,” she snapped. “You owe me half a million dollars, Trevor.”
I struggled to keep my pride from showing. We’d done the bullshit-argument bit to slip away from the heat on a gig in Philadelphia, and she’d taken the bluff crown without breaking a sweat. Whatever she was leading up to, she’d pulled it out of her ass.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Trevor said.
“You know damned well what I mean. The Benz deal.”
“What?”
“I delivered a carrier full of Benz to your back-ass chop shop, and he wrote me a rubber check. You owe me.”
She’d picked the right fakeout. Trevor rarely bothered running checks on his chops.
“Idiot! What does that matter now?” Trevor shouted. He moved toward me, probably intending to kick me or zap me with the Taser again.
Lenka scowled at him. “Do not interfere. The thief has a task to perform.”
“He’s right, you slimy son of a bitch.” Jazz bared her teeth. “Maybe it doesn’t matter, but if you’re going to kill everybody and their grandmother, you could at least pay up first.”
The shouting continued. I tried to tune it out. Keeping the dagger as close to me as possible, I used a torn finger to smear Ian’s symbol near the bottom of the blade. I concentrated on the memory of the shining coin Trevor had swallowed and whispered, “Insha no imil, kubri ana bi-sur’u wasta.” When no one shot me or set me on fire, I figured they hadn’t noticed.
The surface of the dagger facing me rippled. Copper darkened and showed vague suggestions of shadowed, glistening flesh. Hello, Trevor’s intestines.
“Silence!” Lenka’s roar threatened to shatter my concentration. I clung to my intentions hard enough to manifest them physically. Sweat drenched my forehead and rolled into my eyes. “It should not take you this long, thief,” Lenka said. “You have sixty seconds before she loses the first finger.”
No time for a smart-ass remark. Nodding as if I’d just lost my last nerve, I wrapped my sliced hand around the tapered end of the blade and slipped my cut and still bleeding index finger through the base end. So cold. I glanced at Trevor. A slight frown surfaced on his face, and he rubbed once at his stomach. But he didn’t seem overly concerned.
I curled
my finger around carefully until I felt the edge of the coin. Focused everything I had on it. And forced myself to meet Ian’s eyes.
“Ana lo ‘ahmar nar, fik lo imshi, aakhir kalaam.”
A band of pain clamped around my finger where it still stuck through the surface of the knife. I wasn’t sure if I’d done the spell right. Either the bridge was closing, or I’d destroyed Ian’s tether instead of Lenka’s. I tried to pull my hand back, and the copper blade solidified—taking my finger off clean at the first knuckle, newly grown nail and all.
I wasn’t the only one in pain, though.
Trevor’s eyes opened so wide I didn’t think they’d stay in his skull much longer. He crossed both hands over his stomach and opened his mouth. Blood poured out and drenched his chest, his arms. He fell hard on his knees. A few wisps of smoke drifted from between his fingers. He toppled to one side like a warped domino.
Horror replaced the triumphant smirk on Lenka’s face. He managed a single step, a single word, before his hands and feet burst into flames. Real ones, not illusions. The fire raced along his limbs, transforming his flesh into showers of ash as it went. Although his legs burned and crumbled, the rest of him stayed in place. Finally, nothing but a core remained. A floating fireball. It grew bigger, surged bright and hot. And exploded.
Sparks filled the room, covering everything. It was like standing inside the grand finale at a fireworks display, without the ear-shattering booms and third-degree burns. The bright flecks faded into shimmering air and then calm.
This time, I welcomed the silence. It let me hear my ragged breathing and galloping heart. Good indicators that I wasn’t dead.
“Like to see you magic that away, you twisted fuck,” I muttered.
The floor beckoned to me. I accepted the invitation.
“GAVYN.”
What? I tried to say. Wasn’t sure if I actually managed to speak. I tried again. My lips didn’t seem to move.
“Gavyn.”
“Jazz,” I whispered—or thought I did. My throat vibrated. Had any sound come out? I needed a drink. And a transfusion. Maybe some nice drugs . . .
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