by Sara King
“Perhaps…?” she managed, in a strangled voice. Her rage rising, fighting the urge to curse him for the fear of the Law resetting her seven days, as she had already made it through three whole days, she grated, “And what would you…require…instead, djinni?”
For the longest time, ‘Aqrab’s violet eyes simply watched her. Then, seemingly coming to some sort of decision, the djinni said, “As it is your stomach that pains you, mon Dhi’b, it seems only fair that I be given free rein to touch your abdomen. To my satisfaction.”
Kaashifah froze, horror hitting her in an icy wave that left her struggling to breathe as she met the djinni’s gaze. “You jest.”
“I grow tired of your hand,” the djinni said, watching her reaction closely, “I would find diversions elsewhere.”
“My stomach?!” Kaashifah snapped. She could think of no more sensitive spot, no more vulnerable area of her entire body. No man had ever laid his hand upon her stomach. The thought of allowing the djinni to touch her there left her feeling both sick…and oddly excited. Almost as if part of her wanted to trust him enough to let him touch her there.
…which was utterly insane.
When she did not speak, only stared at him in slack-jawed horror, the djinni shrugged. “If you do not wish to bargain tonight, mon Dhi’b, I would understand. After all, you had a long day of war-making.”
“Which is exactly why I need to eat, you miserable cretin,” Kaashifah snapped. Then, glaring, “But then, you knew that. That’s why you waited until we were stranded in the mountains and I couldn’t tell you no.”
“You have reset your seven days—you always can tell me no,” ‘Aqrab said, his voice carrying a note of indifference. Then his lips quirked in a mischievous smile. “But then, if you do, perhaps I will have to console myself with a meal, to ease my disappointment. I believe I’m in the mood for sirloin. Grilled to perfection, topped with a portabella gravy…”
“Stop it!” she cried, shuddering at the succulent flavors his words were conjuring up for her. “Pick something else. My back, my feet, my calves. Not my stomach.”
He cocked his head at her. “I want access to your stomach, mon Dhi’b. If you feel it necessary to deny me, then I will simply go to work making my dinner.”
“You do that,” she growled, “and you’re likely to lose an arm, djinni.”
His violet eyes danced when he said, “Smell still carries from the half-realm, mon Dhi’b.” His grin stretched further. “And I have been known to be a loud eater.”
She groaned at the idea of the djinni taunting her with food from the half-realm. “Fine,” she grunted. “Fine, you wre—” She caught herself before she could insult him. “Fine. The stomach. May your revered ancestors eat great piles of chocolate as it rains down from beneath a camel’s tail.”
He grinned in obvious pleasure. “You’re learning to twist your words, mon Dhi’b.” He almost sounded…proud.
“Just get on with violating me, djinni,” she growled. “I’m hungry enough to chew off your arm.”
The djinni raised both brows. “‘Violate’ you, mon Dhi’b? Is that your wish?”
Damn the word-weaving bastard! Very carefully, she said, “Lay out our bargain in which you touch my stomach to your satisfaction, and seal it in Law so that you can bring me a pile of meat before I sate my hunger on your infuriating skull.”
‘Aqrab chuckled and surprised her by moving closer, until his big body was only inches from hers, his heat radiating outward like a furnace. Kaashifah’s heart stopped as his big hand came up and pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Someday, little wolf.” He tucked the strand behind her ear and smiled down at her. “You will make that wish.”
And, her gut told her with a flutter, he wasn’t talking about her third wish. In a moment of horrible, sinful panic, Kaashifah wondered what it would be like to do just that, with the djinni’s big, muscular body wrapped around her…
Gasping at the horribly graphic image that followed, Kaashifah wrenched herself away from ‘Aqrab and straightened coolly, with only her sweaty palms betraying the pounding of her heart. “Speak your bargain, djinni,” she growled. “You’re wasting our time.”
‘Aqrab sighed and dropped his hand. “Very well.” He sucked in a breath and his eyes began to glow as the air around him began to swirl with the violet magic of the Fourth Realm. In that triple-toned thunder that made the very stone of the mountain beneath her shake, he boomed, “I, Yad al-‘Aqrab, sand-singer of the Scorpion clan, firstborn son of Bakr al-Shihab, eleventh djinni Lord of the Fourth Lands, hereby offer a bargain to you, Kaashifah the Fury, Sister of the Sword, Warrior-Priestess of Horus, Angel of Vengeance, and Blade of Morning: Allow me to sate my curiosity on your stomach, to my satisfaction, and I use the powers of the Fourth Lands to bring you a meal fit for a king. Do you accept?”
Kaashifah felt a wave of uneasiness at his changes to the wording of their previous bargains. “Why do you say ‘sate my curiosity’? And why ‘fit for a king?’ A king of what?”
The djinni’s face, still strained with Law, broke into a grin. “I am curious about your stomach, so long has it been forbidden from me, mon Dhi’b. And for the rest, you will have to trust me. Do you accept?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You realize this is the last bargain we ever make if you insert something ridiculous like, ‘frog’ king in there, correct? If I get a bag of flies, ‘Aqrab, these nightly entertainments end today.”
He shrugged, but his eyes were sharp with waiting.
Kaashifah hesitated, considering. His bargain was a hundred times more vague this time, but a djinni had the capability of twisting even the clearest, most carefully-delineated wish into a pale antithesis of its original, and he had been giving her exactly what she’d asked for, each night. So precisely, in fact, that, as ridiculous as it sounded, she realized she had begun to trust him. At least enough not to twist their nightly bargains.
Besides, what did she have to lose? Let him paw at her stomach a few minutes. It would be a small price to pay to keep from starving while being hunted by the Inquisition. Glaring at him, she gritted, “I accept.”
The djinni’s eyes widened with a hint of surprise just before he stiffened and the magic of the Fourth Lands rushed into the room, booming out, “As agreed, so decreed, the bargain has been made.” She felt him twine a cord around her soul, and then watched him collapse, grinning and giggling like a fool, to his knees.
“You enjoy that much too much,” she muttered.
He tilted his head, beaming up at her. “Like I said, mon Dhi’b,” he said, grinning. “Better than sex.”
Squirming under the thought of delivering unto the djinni such pleasure, she reddened and turned away, trying not to listen to his panting.
Eventually, she heard ‘Aqrab push himself up from the floor. “Any time you’re ready, mon Dhi’b,” he rumbled, making her flinch.
Very reluctantly, she turned back to him, her hands fisted on the hem of her sweater. ‘Aqrab waited in a crouch, hands on his knees, giving her an all-too-intelligent, brooding look, that, humiliatingly, made part of her want to run screaming from the cave to launch herself off the cliff beyond.
“Where would—” Her voice cracked, trailing off into a wheeze. Swallowing, Kaashifah tried again. “Where would you have me?”
The djinni, still watching her carefully, gestured to the floor in front of him in silence.
For some reason, held by the dark purple of his eyes, it took all of Kaashifah’s self control to step up to the djinni and, slowly, lower herself to a seated position on the stone beneath him.
“Lie down, mon Dhi’b,” he whispered, above her, almost against her ear.
She found she couldn’t do it. Not with the djinni so close. Not when she was to expose her belly to him. Already, her breath was coming too quickly, her hands trembling against the fabric of her sweater, where they pinned it to her torso. “I’m thinking,” she managed in a whisper, as her body refused to
cooperate, “we need to renegotiate our bargain. I can’t do this.” She couldn’t even bring herself to look at him, and she could feel the heat of his body through her side.
“The bargain is made,” ‘Aqrab said softly. He reached out and gently touched her shoulder. Kaashifah flinched as she felt the heat of his fingers through her sweater. “On your back, mon Dhi’b. I can’t see your stomach with you hunched over it like that.”
Suddenly, she wondered if, by ‘sate my curiosity on your stomach,’ he meant ripping it out of her body and examining it from all angles. She’d heard worse things, from those who were stupid enough to make bargains with djinn.
Yes, she was definitely becoming too complacent, she thought, but she forced herself to lie back anyway. After all, even without a stomach, a Fury had the power to wrench the djinni’s head from his shoulders.
…if only the damn thing wouldn’t grow back on a wave of fire a moment later.
On her back, she squeezed her eyes shut so she didn’t have to see the djinni so close above her. She felt his hot hand gently touch her wrist. “You need to lift your sweater for me to begin my explorations, mon Dhi’b.”
She winced at ‘explorations,’ and she actually heard a couple of the threads of her sweater’s hem snap under the tightening of her fingers, when he slipped a big finger underneath. “I will lift it when I’m ready,” Kaashifah growled. She was about to allow a man to profane her stomach for a sack of meat, when one month ago, she would have driven her knuckles into the bones of his throat for even suggesting it.
Her gloved knuckles. There was so much about her that had changed…
“Mon Dhi’—”
“All right!” Kaashifah cried. “Fine. Fine you miser—” she coughed, choking off the rest of her insult. “All right.” She swallowed, hard, feeling the heat of him poised above her, but afraid to look. “Fine.” She took a deep breath, biting her lip. “Just…fine.” Her fingers constricted on the hem, straining the fabric further.
After a few moments, the wretch of a djinni said in an amused voice, “I’m still waiting, mon Dhi’b.”
Steak. Lots of thick, juicy, fat-dripping steak. Very reluctantly, a centimeter at a time, she lifted the hem of her sweater.
“You still haven’t lifted it beyond the waist of your pants,” the infuriating creature noted.
“A pox on your eyes!” she cried. But she lifted the sweater.
A moment later, she felt the djinni move closer—move over her—and she gasped, twisting in panic to look up at him.
“Calm, mon Dhi’b,” he said softly. He was crawling over her legs, lowering himself until he was lying on her…
“That was not part of the bargain,” she cried, beginning to sit up.
The djinni’s upper torso held her legs in place, and his elbow came up to prop up his head in a palm as he stared at her stomach, now only inches from his face. “You have a tattoo,” he said, sounding surprised. “It’s very light… It must be old?”
This close, Kaashifah actually lowered herself back to the stone to put distance between his face and the sensitive flesh of her belly. “Lying on me wasn’t part of the bargain, ‘Aqrab,” she grated at the ceiling, trying not to feel the way her legs were heating from contact with his naked flesh.
“True, but it is more satisfying.” He reached out and touched the pale discoloration of flesh above her belly-button, making her flinch. “What is that? It’s barely visible.”
Talons of horror re-opened jagged wounds within her soul, and suddenly it was all Kaashifah could do not to throw him off of her and run. She pressed her lips together and looked away, carefully examining the white crystalline quartz of the floor of the cave. Of course that would be the first thing he noticed. She hadn’t even let her sisters get that close, and for good reason. If any of her Lord’s faithful had ever realized she carried the mark of a kin-killer upon her, she would have been thrown from the temples.
But the djinni was not satisfied. He tapped it. “What is it? You went to some parlor while I was sleeping, little wolf?”
“It’s a birthmark,” she whispered, feeling sick.
The djinni scoffed in disbelief, his big chest flexing hard against her legs. “I see words, mon Dhi’b. What is it? Sumerian? Atlantean?” He cocked his head and began sounding it out.
Kaashifah slapped a palm over the mark. “It is none of your business, ‘Aqrab,” she growled, scowling at him. “Just hurry up and find your satisfaction so we can be done with this.”
Still stretched out upon her legs, the djinni’s eyes were fixed on the bit of flesh covered by her palm. “Your hand is covering the most interesting part of your stomach, mon Dhi’b.” He sounded…troubled. When Kaashifah continued to glare at him, very gently, ‘Aqrab dug his big fingers under her own and she reluctantly allowed him to lift her hand free. Then, as she watched, the weaver of words cocked his head and started sounding out the cursed mark of her birth.
“It means ‘killer of blood,’ okay?” she cried, slapping her hand back over it once he figured out ‘blood’ and ‘death.’
‘Aqrab looked up from her hand to her face, giving her a startled look. “Kin-killer?”
“Satisfy yourself,” she snarled. “My patience is wearing thin.”
“Let me see it again,” he said softly. His hot hand touched hers, and once more tenderly lifted her fingers from where they hid her mark. His eyes were filled with gentleness before they dropped back to the discoloration. “How did you get it?”
“I didn’t,” she snapped. “I was born with it. The priestess that raised me kept me segregated from the rest until I was old enough to keep it a secret.”
‘Aqrab’s violet eyes were bright with understanding as they flickered up to meet hers. “Then it was a warning, not a curse.”
Damn the intelligent wretch. “Take it as you will,” she growled, looking away.
For a long moment, ‘Aqrab said nothing, just stared at her stomach. Then she felt him shift, felt him put both hands on her belly…
…and suddenly he was tickling her, his big fingers working across the skin of her stomach, light as feathers. Kaashifah screamed and flailed and summoned the wolf to take off his head—
—just as the djinni twisted to the half-realm, laughing. From the heat-shimmery air above her head, he boomed, “I have explored your stomach to my satisfaction, fulfilling your side of the bargain.” And then he twisted back and dropped a heavy sack of freshly-cooked steaks into her lap.
“I figured I’d save you the time of roasting them yourself,” the djinni said. “After all, you’ve had a long day. Oh, and…” He set a large bowl of thick, brown, mushroom-filled gravy beside her, along with a platter of seasoned rice and a massive batch of curry. Beside that, he set a bottle of date wine and a basket of fruit. Succulent strips of roast chevon followed, steeped in a spicy masala. And still the djinni kept them coming, lowering plates and platters of food, beverages, and desserts all around her.
As Kaashifah sat there, staring down at her meal fit for a king, she felt tears coming to her eyes. By the time the djinni finished and squatted beside her, the floor of the cave was all but filled. “Will that satisfy you, mon Dhi’b?” he asked softly.
Biting her lip, Kaashifah blinked away tears. Wiping her arm across her eyes, she nodded, unable to speak. When she dared look at the djinni, he was smiling.
“It was a good bargain,” ‘Aqrab said, wiping a tear from her cheek. “Now eat. It’ll get cold.”
Still stunned she wasn’t staring into a bag of flies, Kaashifah tentatively did. When she finally set down her last plate, she was more satisfied than she had been in centuries. Giving the djinni a hesitant look, she whispered, “I haven’t eaten that well since I was bitten by the wolf.”
The djinni grinned at her with open happiness. “Then you are satisfied?”
“More than,” she managed. “Thank you.”
His grin widened to devilish proportions and he started tracing a big finger
across the glittering white stone floor. “Then perhaps you’d allow me a bit more time with your stomach? I don’t think I got a good enough look.” He looked up at her, mischief in his eyes. “Are you ticklish, mon Dhi’b?”
Kaashifah stiffened in absolute horror. “Kes okhtik bi ayre, gewad,” she blurted, her hands curling into fists as she looked away.
Beside her, she felt the djinni’s big body tighten, then the stone beneath her shuddered with the power of the Fourth Realm as the djinni boomed, “You have reset your seven days.” She could feel the djinni’s amusement when, in his normal deep, melodic voice, he said, “I don’t have a sister, little wolf. And if I were to pimp her out, I certainly wouldn’t sample my own wares. Bad for business.” She heard his smile grow as he added, “After all, the Scorpion clan is renowned for its…beauty. A mere waggle of my eyebrow and I have more playmates than I know what to do with.”
Kaashifah felt her body tense until she thought her bones would break. “Neek Hallak, ‘Aqrab. I’m sure you’d enjoy it, you pervert.”
Again, the djinni stiffened above her and boomed, “You have reset your seven days.” Then, once he’d regained control of himself, he laughed and said, “Perhaps tomorrow I will ask for your feet.”
“Stop taunting me, wald il dhuroot.”
The djinni grunted and stiffened again as Law snagged him and thundered out, “You have reset your seven days.” Once he regained himself, he chuckled at her. “Or your ribs.”
Kaashifah turned to glare up at him. “Zib.”
His brow furrowed for just a moment before he grunted again and bellowed in the triple-tone power of the Fourth Lands, “You have reset your seven days.” Slumping forward once the Law released him, he panted, “Now you’re just being petty.”
Her lips stretching into a smile, now, she said, “Beast.”
The djinni grunted again and his body constricted with another wave of Fourth Lander magic as he boomed, “You have reset your seven days.”
“Bastard,” she said.
The djinni groaned and his body went taut with the crushing wave of Fourthlander Law, booming, “You have reset your seven days.”
