by SF Benson
I’m not versed in Arabic, but his voice is disparaging. “Hadid, if you promise to drop the insults, I’ll try to cut back on the swearing. Deal?”
“I will try,” he says with a hint of laughter in his voice. “Qadira, if you don’t mind a mixed marriage, you should keep this one. He has a backbone.”
I shake my head and light the fire.
Qadira waves her hand in the air. “Never mind that, Hadi. What of father? Will he dissolve the arrangement?”
Hadid rests his arm along the back of the sofa. “Only if you and Shedad stay away until your birthday.”
“When is it?” I ask.
“In five days,” the siblings respond in unison.
I sit back on my heels. This could be the best news yet. “Let me get this straight. Your intended has run off. If neither of you show up in the next five days, the wedding is off?”
“Technically, you are correct,” Hadid says. “Problem is our father has unleashed his special forces to find my sister.”
“More djinn?” I say.
“The worst type of djinn in his employ,” Hadid affirms. “The Si’lat are experts at shape shifting. They are also the smartest of his henchman.”
I choose my words carefully as I cock my head to the side. “So, how do we know you aren’t one of them?”
Hadid leans back into the cushion. The sofa groans again. “Because if I were Si’lat, Qadira would be locked away in a bottle, and you, my friend, would be dead.”
I rise to my feet and puff out my chest, as if it could possibly compete with the barrel-chested djinni. “Is that a threat?”
“Do not be ridiculous, incubus.” He holds his hands up and smiles. “Hey, I rhyme. Who knew I was a poet?”
I face-palm. Just what I need, a fucking comic djinni.
Hadid claps his hands. “Let us stop with the serious conversation. It is time for a feast. Sister dear, are you hungry?”
Qadira’s stomach growls its answer.
He laughs. “And there is my answer.”
The words tumble from her mouth like a child expecting a present. “Surprise us, Hadi. Make it a party in honor of Djamila.”
“Ajealha kdhlk.”
A gong sounds, and a table appears in the room loaded with plates of food.
“What is all this?” I ask, walking toward the spread.
Qadira swipes a brightly colored ceramic dish with a floral pattern and a phrase in Arabic scrolled across it. She points to a rice dish with what looks like chicken and tomatoes. “This is Machboos.”
I pick up something resembling little pies. “And this?”
“Fatayer Sabanegh. It is filled with spinach.”
I take a bite and grimace. It looks good, but it’s as bland as bath water. “Hadid, this is terrible.”
He bows his head. “I apologize. Nothing has salt. Djinn cannot eat it. Want to get rid of one of us? Feed us salt. Deadly results.”
Okay. I guess this creature is on the up and up since he just entrusted me with something no one should know about djinn. “Mind if I grab a salt shaker?”
Qadira touches my forearm. “Try eating without it. If it’s still not to your liking, Hadi can add other flavors to it.”
“But—”
Her eyes lift to meet mine. The fear dancing in them surprises me. I shrug my shoulder. “Hey, salt is bad for humans. Can’t be that good for supernaturals either.” I point to something wrapped in some sort of flatbread. “What’s this?”
“Ah, that’s one of my favorites.” She picks it up, takes a bite, and her eyes roll back. “Chicken Shawarma. You will like this. There are veggies inside, and you dip it in the tzatziki sauce. Here, try it.”
Qadira holds the morsel up to my mouth. I’m not used to someone feeding me—feeding off me, but not feeding me. Carefully, I take a small bite and chew. It’s not half bad.
Her eyes gleam. “See? I told you. Have a seat. I shall feed you.”
I watch her fill the plate. She brings it over and sits beside me. All I have to do is open my mouth when prompted. This is definitely not something my kind should experience. It’s too easy to get hooked.
She holds up a pastry. I open my mouth, eager to try it. Qadira tricks me and puts it in her mouth.
Naughty.
“Your turn,” I say and pick up a wrapped morsel. Instead of placing it in her mouth, I squish it and make a mess.
Qadira licks the sauce from my fingers. My dick stiffens.
“Still good,” she says.
“Maybe I should feed myself.”
“If you like.” Qadira grabs my hand and drags me to the table.
For the next half hour, I point to a dish and ask what it is while Qadira explains what I’m eating. At some point, Hadid vanishes.
Finally, I put the plate down and wipe my mouth.
“Are you satisfied?” she asks, cleaning her fingers on a damp towel.
“I’m stuffed.” I collapse on the sofa. “Will this food keep?”
“Don’t worry about it. Hadi will clean it up.”
The plates and table disappear.
“You couldn’t do that?”
She holds up her wrist. “As long as I wear this contraption, I can’t do a thing.”
I rub my brow. “You mean to tell me you don’t do anything without using powers?”
“Not if I can help it. I am a princess.” A bratty quality enters her voice. “I don’t have to do for myself.” She glances at the cuff.
I sit back and take in this female who fascinates me. She’s used to having others do for her but had no problem feeding me.
“Trust me, if I do commit a murder, it will be on the being who put these things on me. Do you know he can command me and I would have to obey? He controls my powers right now.”
“Hank?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t know that.” Something tells me Hank doesn’t know either. If he did, I don’t think we’d be in this cabin.
“Look, it is snowing.” Qadira plops down beside me.
I glance over my shoulder. Sure enough, it’s snowing. This could be problematic. The joy radiating from Qadira, however, is too priceless to worry about what ifs. No concerns for tonight. I turn off the lamp. The glowing fire makes the room cozier, comfortable.
“Have you ever seen snow, Qadira?”
She smiles. “My family lives in the desert. No snow there.”
“I’ve never seen the desert, so I guess that makes us even.”
She curls her legs beneath her, and the smile slides from her lips. “You are not missing much. It’s too hot and dry. I hate it.”
“Is that why you left? Well, that and the marriage thing?”
“Sort of. I haven’t seen any of the world.” Qadira stares out the window. “On my birthday, I receive the balance of my powers. I would like to explore them before I get married and have children.”
“So, you want a family?” I try to picture the gorgeous creature with children who are like little reflections of her. She’d probably be a good mother, always around for her offspring. Unlike my mother.
“One day.” Qadira glances at me. “Do you not want that?”
“Never thought about it. Lilin aren’t close to their parents. If I hadn’t stumbled across details about my sire, I wouldn’t know who he was. My mother has never spent much time around us.”
“Oh?” Qadira rests her cheek against the sofa cushion. “Did that bother you as a kid?”
“Sometimes. Servants raised me. I raised my sister after she was born.”
Qadira’s voice softens. “Must be hard growing up Lilin.”
She doesn’t know the half of it. The majority of kids, human and supernatural, would be envious. “It had its good moments. Never having a curfew, for one. I never had to worry about anyone telling my mother what I did wrong either.”
“Djinn grow up in extended families. I always had my parents around
along with aunts and uncles and cousins. A ton of cousins.”
“Must have made privacy difficult,” I say.
“Not really. I had no need for it.” She sits up and locks her eyes on mine. “If you do not mind my asking, when did you…you know…?”
“My first time?
“Yes. But if it’s too personal…”
I don’t understand why I feel inclined to tell her everything and then some. “When I turned seventeen, I met Edwina.”
“Your vampire friend?”
“Yeah.” Just saying her name brings back memories and desire. The craving for her, however, has subsided.
Qadira touches my hand. “You care about her?”
I half-shrug. “I always care for my friends.”
That’s not a lie. It’s the one thing Edwina disliked about me—my loyalty to the fellas. She just couldn’t see their good traits. Incubi get enough ridicule from other supernaturals. Me and the fellas always have each other’s backs. Regardless.
“Have you forgotten I was there in the alley? I heard what she said to you. The vampire is in love with you.”
“I know.” I mumble and rake a hand across my stubbled jaw. “We had a pact, though. If one of us started to care too much, he or she could end things. Whatever we had is over.”
“Do you love her?” Qadira leans toward me as if she can pull the answer from me.
“No. Lilin don’t fall in love.” That’s not entirely true. My sister is defying the odds. “Well, not normally.”
“Do not let our society define you, Cash. You deserve more than a general definition.”
I tilt my head to the side. Edwina said something similar.
“Centuries ago, somebody wrote a book containing the rules and characteristics for djinn. My brother’s a blue Marid. According to the book, he’s a wish granter. Marid have no special concern for humans. But he’s also a bit of a prankster with a wicked sense of humor. I’m Shaitan like my father. I should be malevolent, aggressive, a force to be reckoned with, but I am nothing like him. I’m more like my mother, who’s a kind Marid like Hadi.”
“Interesting.” I rake a hand through my hair. “But what has that to do with me?”
“You can be whatever you want to be, Cash.” She glances out the window again before looking at me. “Be honest with me. Have you ever known love?”
“I told you—”
“That Lilin do not fall in love. But your vampire broke your heart. In time, you might have fallen in love with her.”
“No,” I mutter. Edwina and I only had sexual chemistry, nothing else. Well, she did bend my heart…a little.
“I understand why she ended things between you. She is undead. The only thing she could offer you was her body. You had no access to her soul.”
This conversation is making me uncomfortable. Qadira wants to discuss those things I share with no one. After all, I’m a demon. There are others, more powerful than I am, who would take the information and use it against me. But there’s something about this vision of loveliness that makes me not want to hold back. Anything.
“Edwina filled my lonely times,” I admit. “Whenever the fellas were too busy, or I didn’t want to hang out with them, I went to Edwina.”
Qadira squeezes my hand. “You do not like being alone. I find that odd for a supernatural, but then again, it’s why you seek out frequent companions. It has nothing to do with what you are. It’s more about how you grew up.”
I do a double-take. No one, not even Edwina, knows about my lonesomeness. I’m sure it dates back to all those times Mom left Kelsie and me with Aunt Lilith’s servants while she worked. But how could Qadira know that? We’ve never even had sex, yet she knows me better than Edwina ever did. I move my hand. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She slides closer and her voice drops. “Oh, but I do. Remember, I have the gift of sight.”
I stare at her. “News flash. I don’t think your sight works that well. If it did, you should have saved yourself back in the alley.”
A sad smile crosses Qadira’s face. “Unfortunately, my gift helps only others. I don’t see futures for myself.”
“That’s too bad.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She places her hand over my chest.
The heat from her hand seeps into my body. If she doesn’t stop, I won’t be able to help myself.
“What’s important is I see what is in here.” Her manicured finger taps a beat over my heat. “You’re not a bad incubus, just misunderstood. I know that now.”
I grasp her hand, needing to be closer to her. “You’re wrong, sweetheart. There’s nothing good about me.”
The corners of her plump lips quirk up. “I see more than you tell me.”
“And what’s that?” I’m so focused on her mouth I can barely breathe.
“Just this.” Qadira leans forward, and her lips brush mine.
Hell, she shouldn’t have done that. Qadira sets off a wild need in me. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her onto my lap. She clutches fistfuls of my shirt as I deepen the kiss. This female has ignited a hunger in me. I need more from her. I want more from her.
My hand rests on her hip. Instantly, Qadira tenses up. Her lips drag from mine. A small, hushed “O” of surprise comes from her mouth, and she pushes off my lap.
“I’m sorry, Qadira. I thought…”
She jumps to her feet, her cheeks flushed, and starts to walk away.
“Qadira.”
She stops but doesn’t look at me.
Reality hits me. I scrub a hand over my face. I’m an idiot. Too much, too soon. Suddenly, I need air. The colder, the better. “Why don’t you take the bedroom? I’ll sleep upstairs.”
Qadira nods. “Okay. If you need to contact my brother, just call his name out loud. He’ll appear.”
Why do I need to contact her brother?
She walks out of the room, her hips gently swaying. Even after the bedroom door closes, I’m still gazing in her direction.
Snap out of it! She’s just another magical female, nothing more.
Keep telling yourself that. Eventually, you might fucking believe it.
Why, in the name of Allah, did I kiss him? I have never been so…forward with any male. But an incubus…
There is nothing admirable about Lilins. They steal essence from poor, innocent humans. Sometimes they take too much and kill. I know these things like I know my own name. So why does he move me so?
I lean against the bedroom door still reeling from the encounter. My lips tingle, and my body aches for more. This is madness.
I open my eyes and glimpse a pair of red silk pajamas on the bed, courtesy of Hadid. He thinks of everything.
Why could he not find a way to make Cash less appealing to me?
Thanks to my gift, I now know who hurt him, other than the vampire. Cash’s mother left him alone too many times. He loves her, but he’s unsure of her feelings for him. It ignites his deepest fear—spending his life alone.
My heart breaks for him. Children need to know the love of their parents. His mother was not around Cash enough to prove her love. I am indeed blessed to have always had my parents in my life. The only time I think Mother overstepped her bounds is when she caught me with Colt. Thankfully, she knew better than I did.
I run my fingers over the delicate buttons of the top before fastening them.
Compared to Cash, my life has been exceedingly easy. I’ve never wanted for anything or anyone. I’ve always had companionship. The time I spent alone at the tattoo parlor, at the house of his brother-in-law to be, and here at the cabin are the only times I have been completely alone. I can entertain myself, but I don’t like it. Cash, on the other hand, has spent countless hours alone. He keeps his fears to himself.
Remember, he is an incubus. A demon, much like the vampire, who feeds on the innocent.
He is not responsible for what he is. None of us are. I
never asked to be djinn. I just am.
You told Hadid that Cash had endearing qualities.
He cares for others. Most incubi, like Colt, only care about themselves and their own pleasure.
I pull back the covers and crawl underneath them. Perhaps there is more to Cash Martin than even I can easily discern.
My thoughts are still on Qadira when my phone buzzes. I’m not surprised to see Colt’s name on the screen. All things considered, I don’t want to talk to him.
Remember the code—females don’t come before the fellas. Besides, Colt might be completely innocent. We’ve been friends for too long for me to believe the words of a stranger over his.
Still…
“Hey, Colt.” I lean my head against the cushion. “What’s up?”
“You tell me. I’ve been searching everywhere for your ass,” he growls.
“Hang on.” Is he serious? I glance over my shoulder and head for the stairs. Qadira doesn’t need to hear a one-sided argument.
Since when did I start caring about what she hears?
I take the steps two at a time up to the private studio. “Lose the attitude, Colt, and tell me what’s going on.”
He ignores my request and gets louder. “Where are you? I need to find Dira.”
“She’s safe. Don’t worry about her.” I remove the white sheet from the sofa and sit down. “Has something happened?”
Colt exhales loudly. “Her father wants her to come home.”
“Have you forgotten she can’t leave town?” Colt doesn’t need to know how Edwina helped us leave.
“My father will take care of the restraints. Bring her to me now,” he demands.
Colt’s anger seeps through my phone. Has he lost his damned mind? No one, absolutely no one in Falls Creek, speaks to me like that. Residents have the impression that we’re some sort of gang, and I’m the leader. The fellas have always respected me. Until now.
I forget about the possibility this is about his father tormenting him as I hold the device away from my mouth and yell, “Take a step back, dude. When did you start telling me what to do?”
“This isn’t about you,” he bellows. “Qadira is no concern of yours.”
One… two… three… I have to calm down for the sake of friendship. Years ago, before Colt left home, he was prone to emotional outbursts. I came close to punching the shit out of him until I learned about his father’s twisted mental games.
