by Mina Khan
Hot, burning energy ripped into Rukh. With a loud thunderclap his shield crumbled and the whip of returning air drove him to his knees in a quivering mess.
Chapter Eight
Sarah came to with her body aching and the acrid sting of smoke in her nostrils. Dry heat, the kind found in the belly of a hot oven, washed over her skin as her eyes adjusted. Flames raged and roared all around her, devouring curtains and swallowing the room inch by inch. Her reporter’s notebook lay open on the floor, and she watched as the pages crammed with notes turned into gray ash. Tears stung her eyes.
Instinctively, she slapped a hand over her mouth and nose and stayed low to the ground. Oh God, her nightmare about being trapped in a burning place, chased by evil was now a reality. Her breath hitched as her gaze darted around the room.
Eyr-hek towered over Rukh’s limp form on the floor. Was he alive? Her eyes lingered on the obsidian gleam of his body, so alien. His face a smooth mask instead of sharp cheekbones and sexy mouth. A shudder traveled through her. He’d lied to her. He was one of them.
As if her thoughts had touched his mind, the green giant looked over at her, and into her. Smiled.
Oh shit. She was next. She scrambled backwards despite the aches boomeranging through her. She couldn’t hold back the soft noises of pain.
Eyr-hek’s nostrils flared and he rose through the air in a fluid glide to crouch at her side. “I’m going to punish you for messing up my plans.” His eyes held a dangerous glitter as they roamed over her body. “And I’m going to enjoy every second.”
She cringed away from him. Sarah struggled to breathe as her mind bombarded her with bits and pieces of her life: salty-sweet margaritas at sunset, the wild abandon of kissing Rukh, the cinnamon-scented warm safety of Grandmama’s kitchen.
A deep chuckle rumbled from Eyr-hek’s throat. He lifted a hand and an icy cold caress slithered over the side of her face.
Oh God, no. Never. She couldn’t, couldn’t let him touch her, rape her. Desperation crashed over her. She’d been this desperate only once before, when she was six, and she’d turned into a monster. Desperation surged into rage, battered at her control, left her shaking. Oh God, no, she didn’t want to let go. Yet, a storm gathered in her soul.
Sarah looked into the creature’s golden eyes. Her fear vanished.
“Last chance,” she said, her voice low and breathy as she slowly stood up. “Leave, return to your own world.”
“Leave?” He laughed. “When everything’s going my way? I don’t think so.”
Sarah pulled in a deep breath and poured all her energy into the storm, which she then sicced on Eyr-hek. His proud forehead knitted in a puzzled frown as his essence began to pucker and ripple. Panic flared in his eyes as tension tinged his pallor purplish-pink like bruises.
She paced toward him, whispering ancient words that had long lost their meaning. Soft, dark words with the spicy musk of magic and danger.
Her hands worked the air like soft, pliable dough.
What began as a scream turned into shrieks as Eyr-hek’s body compressed into itself as she doubled over, and his essence stretched thin when she pressed down with the heels of her hands. She wrapped this elastic matter over his mouth, stifling his voice.
The words still flowed from her lips as she kneaded and massaged, pushed and pulled, rolled and patted.
Until Eyr-hek sat on the floor reduced to a large smooth green ball of pulsing, breathing mass.
Vomit rose up in her throat. She turned away and retched spit and water.
“Witch.” A voice as still and quiet as a wary cat. “You’re a witch.”
Her head jerked toward the voice and found Rukh–a beaten and bruised human-looking Rukh—staring at her with horrified eyes. The fire raged around them, creeping closer.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and cleared her throat. “What?”
He pushed himself off the floor into a sitting position. “You are a powerful witch, like Solomon and Rasputin and Marie Laveau.”
Dizziness spiraled through her as coughs wracked her body. Sarah shook her head in denial.
“I saw you spell Eyr-hek.”
Her guilty glance flew over to the glowing green ball. When she looked back at Rukh, he stood staring at the thing. A look of awe and pity suffused his face. Her shoulders hunched. “I was just saying a nonsense-mantra I learned from one of Grandmama’s books.”
“You believe that about as much as I do.” His voice, quiet and slick with fear, echoed in her ears.
Sarah blanched and swayed on her feet as if she were about to drop.
Concern pushed fear out of the way, and Rukh took a step toward her.
“Don’t.” She held up her palms, and backed away, closer to the blaze. “Don’t come near me.”
“You’re scared of me?” Hurt colored his voice and he hated sounding vulnerable. “After what you did, you’re afraid of me?”
Her hands dropped to her side, grabbed and twisted the edge of her T-shirt. “I only did it to stay safe.”
Shoulders hitched as her body curved into itself. “To stay safe from ghosts, spirits, things that go bump in the night. Things like Eyr-hek and you. Monsters.”
Her voice was a whisper, strung tight with strain. She swallowed and continued. “Grandmama called you Iwa, spirits. At first I didn’t realize other people couldn’t see what I saw, feel what I felt.”
But after the death of her parents, she’d gone to live in Jamaica. That’s when the Iwas started trying to communicate, a constant barrage of screams, whispers and everything in between, and almost scared her to death. “Grandmama taught me how to block them and protect myself.”
That explained the walls. He knew what it was like to be a helpless child, vulnerable to the whims of others. He was glad Jasmine had had somebody looking out for her.
“There was one, a poltergeist.” She licked her lips. “He…he tormented me. He threw my dolls around, flung my hairbrush and shoes at me. Then he began to…to touch.” The words rushed out like a train wreck. “Yanking my hair, pinching and slapping. Caresses.”
Anger flared inside Rukh. She’d just been a child. He wanted to wring the neck of the said poltergeist.
“I…I found a book. Spells of protection and learned one by heart.” She sneaked a glance at him, but shied away as soon as her eyes met his. “Next time he came near, I used it.” She fell silent.
“What happened?”
She straightened her spine and looked into his eyes. “Same as Eyr-hek. When he—it—started screaming, so did I. But I couldn’t stop. Grandmama rushed to my bedroom. She took me to her bedroom, gave me some warm milk with a sleep draught. And went to clean up my mess.”
“What did she do with it?”
Sarah shrugged, and a red flush streaked across the ridge of her cheekbones. “I don’t know.” She sighed. “Actually I didn’t remember too much of any of this until I faced Eyr-hek. Then it all came back.”
Her face looked at him, haunted and grim. God, she’d survived so much. An image of Jasmine—her eyes, face, shiny with laughter, sitting across from him at the cheerful yellow bakery—filled his mind with sunshine. She’d survived and overcome. Lived, laughed, loved. He wanted to see her laugh again, this strong, amazing woman who filled his thoughts and senses. Rukh took a step toward her, stopped when fear flashed in her eyes.
His heart clogged his throat, but he pushed the words out. “What about us?”
“Us?”
“You and me.” He stared deep into her eyes. “We have a special connection, I want to make it more.”
Her gaze skittered away. “I can’t.”
“Jasmine…”
“You lied to me about who, what, you are.”
“I didn’t know how to explain the djinn to you.” He threw up his hands. “It’s not like my mom was from Asia. We are talking about a parallel dimension.”
She half turned away from him, as if shielding her core with her body. “Truthfully,
it wouldn’t have mattered even if you’d tried.” She shook her head. “I just can’t get involved with you. Too many bad memories.”
No. He wanted to pull her into his arms and claim her mouth with a kiss. Reignite the burning passion he’d seen in her, remind her of the sweet intimacy they’d shared.
A breath leeched out of him. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, force himself on her. “Goodbye, Jasmine.”
Sirens whooped in the air and intermittent red-and-white lights poured into the room as he walked over to Eyr-hek. Human rescuers had arrived. Sarah would be okay. Rukh bent and picked up the green ball.
“Where are you going?” Her voice, sharp with emotion, slashed through him.
“Back to the djinn world,” he said. “When—if—Eyr-hek recovers, he has to face justice. What he tried to do, possessing a human and bleeding the two dimensions together, is forbidden.”
Staring one last time at Jasmine, something inside him powered off, turned dark and silent. With a grave nod of farewell, he allowed himself to fade.
Chapter Nine
The soft thud of the newspaper landing outside her hotel room woke Sarah. She lay in bed staring at the recessed ceiling and its edge of ornate trim, missing the warmth of Rukh’s body next to hers. He’d been in her life less than a week, but she’d gotten used to him, craved the safety of his arms. She tried staring out the window to stop her tears. Soft silver-gray light filtered through sheer white drapes into the room heralding dawn. Sunday. The story should be in the paper.
Wincing, she brushed away the tears, pushed aside the covers and rolled out of bed. Aches and pains radiated through her body, making her slow. Her feet sank into the white plush carpet. She snagged the soft terry-cloth robe from the bedside lounger where she’d dropped it after her late-night shower. The E.R. hadn’t released her until about midnight, then Garza’s men had smuggled her into this hotel. As far as hidey-holes went, this was pretty posh.
Sarah padded to the door in her bare feet, only to stand with her hand on the cool metal of the doorknob. Given all the crazy crap life had tossed at her yesterday…there could be all kinds of unpleasant surprises on the other side. Garza had called her at the hospital and said both Governor Jake and Alex, his lover, had been arrested. He’d posted a uniformed cop at her door.
Not that he’d be any help against the Iwas. A shudder ripped through and she forced herself to breathe, in and out. She’d taken care of Eyr-hek. It’s okay, you’re okay.
With fierce determination, she snapped open the chain lock and wrenched the door open. The young officer jumped up from his chair, dropping his paper on the dark gold-and-blue Persian carpet. He reached over to his holster. “Something wrong, miss?”
She shook her head as heat sped to her cheeks. “Good morning, could I borrow the paper for a bit?”
The young man immediately gathered the scattered paper and handed it to her. He was nice enough to look at, but no Rukh. Sarah glanced at his name tag, Officer Hood, then the metal folding chair. At least the seat was padded, but still. “Did you spend the night here?”
He grinned. “No, ma’am, I got here at five.”
Oh God, he’d just called her ma’am. And he’d been on duty about an hour. Officer Hood could wait to read the funnies or whatever. She nodded. “Thanks, I’ll get this back to you.” She’d almost shut the door, when her conscience kicked into gear. Sarah pulled out the Sunday comics wrapped around a thick bundle of coupons and shoved it at him. “I’m calling for breakfast, would you like something?”
His grin grew wider as he reclaimed his seat, his gaze roaming the colorful pages. “Thanks. Coffee sure would be nice.”
She closed the door and returned to her bed. After dumping the rest of the paper on the sheets, she called room service. That taken care of, she fluffed up the pillows and stacked them against the headboard, then settled down to read.
Her story about the governor’s shenanigans–love affair, nepotism and contracting for criminal activities—took front page, above the fold. Bob had got a great picture of the man glaring as he was led out in handcuffs to the police car.
Even though she’d lived through part of the excitement, she devoured every word. Her elation was short-lived. She wanted to share the triumph, celebrate with Rukh. Thoughts of him crashed through her mind. Without his help, she’d never have gotten the story. Without his intervention, God only knows what would have happened on that dark evening in the parking lot. Without him falling in love, she may not have been alive. Her heart twisted painfully, making her gasp. Could an otherworldly creature love? His voice, strong and steady with conviction, repeated in her head, “She is my heart mate.”
Stop it. Stop being a fool. She rattled open the paper to an inside page. Carl, the reporter covering the crime beat, had a story about the fire in Travis Heights that had burned down a home. The Austin Fire Department was still investigating, but the captain on duty did say there was a strong possibility of arson. He vowed to hunt down the arsonist.
A dry mirthless laugh escaped her. The AFD had no clue. Reality melted back to that hot, smoky room filled with flames. She could feel the rasp of the heat on her skin, her nose stung with the acrid smell of burning. Once again, she saw Rukh transform from a man to a shadow being. Her breath struggled as she recalled him taking on Eyr-hek. For her.
Sarah closed her eyes and laid her head back against the pillows. She needed to stop thinking about Rukh, about the past and chances lost.
A tingle of awareness blew softly across her neck. She stiffened, hands clutching at the bedsheet. She breathed in a familiar spicy warm scent of wood smoke and burnt sugar. Her eyes popped open and saw nothing, yet every nerve in her body whispered Rukh, Rukh, Rukh.
She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them. “I know you’re here, you might as well show yourself.”
Slowly, like breath condensing on a cold window, he materialized. He stood a careful distance from the bed, framed by the glowing window. She drank in the sight. Tall and formidable, back in his human form and dressed in black jeans and a gray skintight T-shirt. Not a scratch or bruise marred his arms or face. Yet a world’s worth of hurt darkened his ocean eyes. “Jasmine.”
His deep, dark voice stroked her inside out, left her trembling. “What are you doing here?”
Misery spread across his face and he ducked his head. The answer came in a whisper. “I had to see you. I couldn’t stay away.”
Tears choked her, filling her with an irrational need to cry. “I’m glad you came.”
His head shot up, and his features relaxed. “You are?”
She nodded and tapped the newspaper. “My story is in the paper.” A small smile, then, “I should say our story. I wanted you to read it.”
“Oh.” When she made no move to hand him the paper, he stepped closer. He kept his gaze trained on hers as he took each step, until he stood next to the bed. Close enough to touch.
Her mouth suddenly cotton-dry, she swallowed and patted the bed. “Have a seat.”
His weight dipped the bed, made her roll up next to him. His eyes searched her face. After a long moment, a breath eased out of him and he turned his attention to the front page.
When he finished reading and set the paper down, Sarah leaned forward. “Well, what do you think?”
“It’s even better than fiction. Congrats on blowing the top off Austin.”
She grinned. “Thanks.”
He brushed his knuckles featherlight along the side of her face. “It’s good to see you happy.”
Sarah’s eyes fluttered closed and her heart drummed out a frantic beat in her throat. “I’ve missed you.”
“And I you.”
Two fat teardrops escaped from beneath her lids. Man oh man, she’d been so stupid. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I had no right calling you a monster,” she said, as her insides crumbled and came apart. “Just because you aren’t human.”
“Well, I killed people f
or a living.” He stared at his hands.
“Yes, but you didn’t make them suffer,” she said. “I left Eyr-hek imprisoned in his own body. That makes me the monster.”
He grasped her face in his hands and placed a soft kiss on top of her nose. “No, no you’re not.”
She blinked. “What am I then?”
“You’re a very strong, brave woman,” he said. “Both Eyr-hek and the other being deserved what they got.”
He lowered his head and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, one that shook her to her core. “Do you know why I had to come back?”
“No.”
“When I finally fell asleep, I dreamt we were both stuck in that burning room again with Eyr-hek,” he said. “Except this time, he won.”
Rukh’s gaze turned bleak. “I woke up with a yawning hole inside me and tears, so many tears. I had to see you. Make sure you survived.”
She covered his left hand with hers, turned her face and kissed his palm. A sigh spilled from her. “Thank you for coming back.” She closed her eyes. “I’d like another chance to see what we have.”
Silence, the kind that gnaws at your fears, spread heavy between them.
“Are you sure?” His voice thickened with emotion.
Sarah leaned back, met his gaze without flinching. “I spent most of my life pretending a part of the world didn’t exist,” she said. “I don’t want to continue like that, especially if it means denying you exist.”
He pulled her close again and claimed her mouth. Rukh kissed her with his whole being, drinking deep as if parched. And she returned the kiss with equal passion, her hands wrapping in his hair. Warmth bloomed inside her, tingled through her veins. The heat built inside until Jasmine wasn’t aware of anything but the searing burn of pleasure, the perfectness of the moment.
After a while, the kiss gentled, softened, and ended. He looked into her eyes. What she saw there—desire, joy, love shining in their dark blue depths—calmed her, filled her with a quiet sense of knowing and wonder.
She was his. And he was hers.
