“Good. You have until tomorrow at midnight. After that, any sort of unfortunate accident may befall dear Maven.”
“Take us home.” I intended it to sound like an order, but it was a choked plea instead.
“One last thing. Faris may be able to protect you.” He laughed with irony to highlight Faris’s absence. “But he can’t be in two places at the same time. Djinn aren’t omnipresent or omnipotent, as much as it may seem that way to mere humans. Just think of that when Maven goes home. If you share any of this with Faris, the deal is off and Maven will pay for that, too.”
He was grinning with pleasure when, suddenly, a blinding light shone through the windshield. My stomach contracted with sudden nausea as I sensed another presence nearby. Time and space seemed to tremble, and things went from bad to absolute torment.
26
Dazed by a blinding radiance, I slapped a forearm across my brow. I cracked one eye open to look at Zet. His gaze was fixed on something outside the car, swimming with an odd mixture of anger and fear. If he was afraid of whatever was outside, what did that mean for me? Terror seized me. I wanted to look, but my gut clenched and hunkering behind the glove box seemed like a better choice. Still, I didn’t move. I was frozen in place, trembling.
A voice that seemed to slither like a thousand snakes entered the cab. I felt it slip inside my skull, a plume of smoke clouding my mind. The hairs on the backs of my arms stood on end. My whole body shivered and shrank.
“Hurt him again,” the voice said, each word an elongated, blood-curling whisper.
Gathering my courage, I uncovered my eyes and saw.
At the sight of . . . it, rapid breaths of panic broke in and out of my mouth. Whoever, whatever this was, it had an infinitely more sinister aura than Zet. My entire body recoiled from it, sensing that whatever came next would be far worse than what I’d already been through.
A shapeless mass with a dark center hung in the air. Radiant light surrounded it, casting off bursts of blinding energy. My gaze fell on the black, rippling middle. The shadowy form changed with every passing second, like splotches of ink roiling and roiling, taking one malevolent shape after another.
“Hurt him again,” that voice commanded once more, while the dark center coalesced and began pulsating like a beating heart.
“I’ve hurt him enough. I need him alive,” Zet said. His voice had lost any human quality it had possessed. It rumbled and echoed.
“The girl then,” the voice ordered in a strangely feminine tone. Intense loathing rang in the command. This thing, this amorphous blob, hated me. I felt it in the depths of my very bones. My heart pounded, propelled by terror.
“Do it now!” A command that couldn’t be refused.
Suddenly every nerve ending in my body cried out in agony. My arms and legs jerked, and I screamed as pain seared me. Mad laughter filled my ears, piercing them, threatening to burst my eardrums. Every last corner of my body burned with aching, raw fire.
“More,” the voice said with a delighted cackle. “More.”
Impossibly, my pain doubled. I convulsed as unconsciousness threatened to take me away. I invited darkness to come. Please, please! My back arched. The pain was driving me mad. I wanted, needed, to black out.
“If she dies now, I won’t get what I want, Akeelah,” Zet pleaded.
I whimpered, an involuntary whine in the back of my throat. The pain blurred everything, even time. There was no past, no previous life and certainly no future. There was only now. Pain as a way of life.
Zet spoke again. This time, a growl between clenched teeth. “If I don’t get my revenge, I won’t do your bidding. I swear.”
“You dare?” the voice echoed in disbelief.
Interminable seconds of torture passed. A lifetime.
“Enough, then,” the voice finally said.
The pain halted abruptly. I crumpled, limbs throbbing with phantom aches. My head slumped against the window, my eyes half-open. At the edge of consciousness, I watched that inky darkness reshape into a woman’s bare body. The brightness around it blended into a flowing mass of long, white hair. It whipped to one side as if caught in an angry wind. The shape approached, a seven-foot giant, its torso floating on a tornado-like haze. She moved to the rhythm of an unheard cadence, her nude body jet black as polished leather and sinewy as a great feline’s.
“You push my limits, Zet. This game of yours grows tiresome.” Full lips moved sensuously, the only pretty feature in a grotesque face.
“It will end tomorrow, Akeelah,” Zet responded, the name pronounced in an impossible combination of fear, awe, hatred.
I fought against the terrible weakness that pressed against me. I needed to stay awake now, needed to understand.
“With your help, my reign will be absolute. Don’t make me lose my temper. I know not what I do when I’m angered.” Akeelah’s eyes went from emerald green to red. They shone on leathery features, making her protruding hook nose and chin stand out more. Such a hideous witch.
The threat sent a cold shudder down my back. Zet would have to be crazy not to obey. Because in that moment—horrified by Akeelah’s demonic expression—I knew her anger would indeed be terrible.
“Tomorrow,” he promised. “Tomorrow.”
With that, silence fell like a curtain. Zet and the creature disappeared. I swallowed, looked at Maven’s limp shape, and touched his knee.
“Maven?” I said weakly. He was still breathing.
For an agonizing couple of minutes, I stared at the desert. It glimmered with wicked beauty under the smoldering sun. The heat was suffocating us, wrapping its fingers around our throats.
Then my door flew open. Precious air rushed in. A frantic Faris pulled me out of the car, shouting.
“What happened? Are you all right? Answer me, Marielle!” He pulled me into a tight embrace.
“Let go of me.” I pushed him away. I pawed my way back into the car, slapped Maven on the cheek until he opened his eyes. He groaned and put a hand to his stomach, grimacing.
“What happened?” he echoed Faris’s question.
“Are you okay?”
“Uh . . .” he looked completely lost.
“I . . . I think you fainted,” I lied.
He blushed. “I did?”
I nodded, my strength returning at the mere sight of Maven’s blue eyes.
“My stomach kinda hurts,” he said, sitting fully upright. He wiped a hand over his sweaty forehead and frowned.
“Maybe you should go home,” I suggested.
“Yeah, I feel hot . . . sick to my stomach. I think you’re right. I’ll see you tomorrow? Is that okay?”
“Sure, no problem.” I got out of the truck and, holding on to it, came around to the driver side door.
“Maven,” I called out, as he started the engine, “take care of yourself, okay?”
He gave me a puzzled look, surely wondering why I seemed so concerned when he only had a stomach ache. “Sure. You too.” He drove off.
“What happened?” Faris demanded from the middle of the street.
“You weren’t there. That’s what happened.”
It was unfair to say this when I’d been the one to taunt Zet. But if Faris hadn’t just disappeared after . . . after I kissed Maven, I wouldn’t be in this horrific mess. Now Maven’s life hung in the balance and . . . the pain, the awful pain. I shuddered at the memory of that primeval presence, whatever it was. Maybe the Devil, after all.
“Thanks to your shining absence,” I said, all anger, all unfairness—too upset to dole out the blame where it belonged. “At least I know what I have to do now.” I turned and walked with weak steps toward the house. I couldn’t see him, couldn’t talk to him. Not when that might cause me to falter, not when Maven’s life depended on me.
And whatever else was going on with Zet and that thing, I couldn’t worry about it. Maven was in danger, and it was up to me to save him.
27
“Something wrong?” Dad aske
d when I entered the kitchen.
I adjusted my scowl to something I hoped looked like run-of-the-mill boredom. “Nope.”
“I ordered pizza. Hawaiian. Your favorite.” He noticed my involuntary grimace. “What? You don’t like it?”
“Not anymore.”
When the pizza arrived, we ate in silence, picking mushy fruit out of melted cheese. It turned out Dad didn’t like Hawaiian pizza either.
After cleaning up, I said, “I need to go out for a bit.”
“Where to?”
“Church. Wanna come with?” We used to go to church every Saturday when Mom was alive. It would be nice to have company, not to mention the fact that Faris would have to stay away if Dad came along.
“Uh, not tonight, kiddo.”
I could tell, by the look in his eyes, he didn’t think much of church anymore. Heck, if anyone had asked me to go this morning, I’d have given them the same vacant stare. He must have sensed my disappointment because he hurried to explain.
“God and I just haven’t seen eye to eye since your mom . . .”
“It’s cool. Maybe some other time?”
“Maybe. But don’t let me stop you. You go on.”
When I went to my bedroom, I wasn’t surprised to find Faris sitting on the bed.
“Go away,” I said.
“I’m not going away.”
“Dad could hear you.”
“No. He won’t. I made sure of that.”
“Fine then.” I walked to my chest of drawers and retrieved the stone, feeling like I now had to keep it with me at all times. “I’m going to church.” I turned to leave.
“Why do you need that?”
“None of your business.” I tried to keep a firm tone in my voice.
He huffed in a humorless exhale of air. “I beg to differ.”
My throat burned. I blinked and bit hard on my cheek, but my trembling chin betrayed me. Faris stood and took a step in my direction.
I sidestepped to the door.
“Why don’t you trust me?” he demanded.
Looking back over my shoulder, I saw Faris, hands slack at his sides, face twisted in an expression of total defeat. My heart broke a million times over. I turned my back on him, rested my weary forehead on the door and squeezed the knob, wishing I could pulverize it.
One, two, three, four. Each breath hurt deeply, somewhere in a place that had never hurt before. After Dad’s abandonment, Jeremy’s betrayal, Mom and Grandpa’s deaths, even today’s ordeal in the desert, I’d thought pain couldn’t be any greater. But I was coming unglued, losing it all. How could this be worse than all that past agony? Yet it was. This feeling that I’d been trying to deny, this love—yes, love—that I’d been asked to sacrifice, was too precious to just throw away. The thought was unbearable.
Still, I couldn’t allow Zet to hurt Maven. My friend was innocent, unaware of the phenomenal cluster-mess I’d gotten myself into. Besides, how could I have fallen in love in such a short time? And with a Djinn? Crazy. Impossible.
“I need to think, so I’m going to church. I’d appreciate it if you give me some privacy. Okay?”
“It didn’t work too well the last time I did that.”
I gave him a mean look.
“Look, Marielle, I . . . I . . .” Words died on his full lips.
My chest pounded with every stammered “I” that he fought to follow with other words.
What was the curse not allowing him to say? I wanted to know. Only, if I did, would I still be able to do the right thing? Strengthening my resolve, I clutched the stone. It was poor support. I needed a mountain to brace me for what I was about to say.
I looked him in the eye. “I don’t need your protection anymore, Faris. You don’t need to follow me.”
His dark gaze clung to mine, revealing the most infinite of agonies. He knew he was being betrayed, tossed aside. I expected an accusation, but he simply averted his eyes. I felt his sorrow and together with mine, it was too much. I had to leave or I wouldn’t do what needed to be done. Without a backward glance, my weak legs carried me downstairs in some sort of miracle. I left the house and got in the car, waiting, hoping without hope, without logic, to sense Faris in the passenger seat.
Fierce heartache let me know I was alone.
***
I walked down the sidewalk toward The Immaculate Conception Church on Baronne Street. A strange breeze followed behind me, like a creature on padded feet. I stopped, shivered and looked over my shoulder. A few people walked in the opposite direction, but they weren’t anywhere near me. My grip on the stone intensified as I resumed my step.
“Where are you going?” A voice teased behind me.
I whirled. No one was there. “Leave me alone.” I clung to the stone. “You can’t have it. My time isn’t up.”
“There is no way out, foolish girl.” Zet’s laugh filled my ears, then the streets seemed to go as silent as a mausoleum, no traffic sounds, no anything. Somehow, the eerie quiet was worse than his laughter. My step quickened, morphing from a brisk walk into a full run. My heart pounded in my throat, making it hard to breathe.
The laughter began again and grew louder with every step I took. As I ran through the large bronze doors of the church, the terrible cackles stopped abruptly, as if Zet had hit an invisible wall. Soulless bastard! The Lord’s house must be too sacred for him.
Catching my breath, I let my eyes adjust to the soft glow inside the church. I looked reverently at the golden altar. Everything inside was just as I remembered it. The ornate columns, the cast iron pews with their intricate backs, the beautiful stained glass windows.
The only differences were the silence and the bent backs of the few visitors. I’d always been here when the rows were full. The priest stood at the top of the marble steps, and I sat nestled in the safest place I’d ever known: between Mom and Dad.
It felt strange, yet comforting, being here. I found an empty pew and sat. The altar with its Moorish domes and miter-shaped arches shone brightly under a well-placed set of spotlights. I stared at it for a few minutes before I lowered my head.
As I began the Lord’s prayer, it felt stale in my mouth. I wasn’t even sure I could remember how it all went, but soon discovered it was like riding a bike. My lips glided right till the end. Someone had listened to my plea in the desert, and I’d survived Zet and Akeelah. My faith was restored and it felt good to believe in a higher power again. There was only one problem. Now, I expected more, and maybe I would get more if I’d only ask. I took a deep breath, ready to find out.
“What should I do?” I whispered, actually expecting a reply.
There was none.
“Take this choice away from me,” I begged.
No answer.
“I know what I should do, but . . .”
I belonged to this human world. There was no way I could change things that were so far beyond my understanding and my realm.
“But it’s so difficult.”
If only there was another choice, a way out. I saw none. I had to be moral and selfless. But hadn’t I been selfless enough already? In the last week, I’d even felt happy about the things I’d done for others. Why shouldn’t I be selfish now? Why shouldn’t I pick Faris over Maven?
Selfish, selfish, selfish. I wanted to be selfish.
But I couldn’t. I’d never be able to forgive myself if I sacrificed Maven. Never. My heart went cold with resentment.
“Why did this happen to me? Why couldn’t it be different?”
Someone two pews ahead cleared his throat.
“That’s all you’ve got?” I challenged.
Anger bloomed inside me against this rediscovered God. It was easier not to expect anything, easier to believe that things happened for random reasons and not because someone dictated them.
“What plan is this? The make-Marielle-suffer fest? I don’t get it.”
This prayer wasn’t getting me anywhere. Even if I’d heard the phrase “God works in mysterious
ways”, it didn’t make things any easier to accept. I knew very well what I had to do. I had to make my last wish, had to hand over the stone to Zet, had to save Maven.
Fine!
But if I had to do that, then I’d still be selfish. I’d make my last wish and, finally, get my boatload of money. No feeding the poor. No healing the sick. No more goodie-two-shoes Marielle.
The idea left me feeling empty. Even if I could get the Titanic filled to the brim with gold, it meant nothing. I bit my lip.
“God, help me be strong.”
I squeezed my eyes, my face, my whole body. The edges of the stone dug into my palms. I glanced down, noticing how hard I was holding it, wishing I could break it into a million pieces, but the thing was indestructible. It was one of the first things Grandpa taught me about it. The characters were nonsensical, probably the cuneiform script used during the time of Cyrus The Great. I had done a little reading on the man after Faris tried to tell me about his past.
A budding recollection itched in the back of my mind, but I couldn’t put a finger on it, and the harder I tried to grasp it, the fainter it grew. Feeling defeated, I stood, gave one last look at the altar and walked toward the exit. I stopped before I reached the door and begged for one more thing.
“Please don’t let Zet be out there.”
A dark figure passed next to me. I jumped, a hand flying to my chest. A woman dressed in black offered me a brief smile and walked to the holy water font. Remembering the custom, I approached it after she left. I dipped my index finger in the water, making it ripple. An image flickered at the bottom of the basin, dark and brooding. I thought of Faris’s brown eyes and how they filled with disappointment every time he failed to say the words that would explain everything. It was clear he suffered, yet he looked so resigned to his fate, so willing to face imprisonment. Except this time he didn’t know there would be no more freedom. Zet would make Faris’s captivity permanent.
It wasn’t fair. Zet was evil. He couldn’t win, shouldn’t win!
I bit back my frustration and mechanically crossed myself, lips moving in a low murmur. My wet finger came to rest on my mouth as I finished the hand ritual. I licked my lips. The water tasted salty, like tears. A thought struck me, as the memory of the day I released Faris came back to me.
One Wish Away: Djinn Empire Complete Series Page 21
