by SF Benson
“No!” I shout, standing up. My legs tremble, and I fall to the floor. “I will not marry you. Kill me. Make me a servant, but I shall never be your wife!”
“The djinniyah is right.” The rumbling voice comes from behind us.
I glance at Colt. His mouth opens and closes, but no words leak out. I shift my position on the floor. The demon king Ashmedai is in the room.
He wears his customary black suit, shirt, and tie. His wavy, black hair is gathered at the nape of his neck. Standing behind him, the Najex is also dressed in a dark suit.
I touch my forehead to the floor, giving my respect, as customary, to the king. A warm hand encircles my wrist.
“Rise, Qadira,” Ashmedai says and helps me to my feet. “I am glad to see someone respects me.”
Colt stammers, “Grandfather, I…uh…”
“Enough!” Ashmedai leads me to the cot. “I’m glad I decided against returning home right away. Khan, I blame you for my grandson’s impudence. He is as stubborn as you are, my son. I asked for this matter to be concluded days ago.”
I glance at Colt. He shuffles his feet from side to side and keeps his hands lowered.
Ashmedai sits beside me. “I’m sorry for any inconvenience my family has caused you, Qadira. You are free to return home.”
My hand goes to my mouth as I suck in a quick breath. “I am free?”
“Relatively speaking.” He points to my wrists. “If you wish, I’ll remove your restraints.”
I take a glimpse at them. If Ashmedai removes the cuffs, the Falls Creek Council will hold Cash responsible for the crimes committed. I cannot let that happen. “No. I have to go before a council and prove innocence for myself and Cash.”
Ashmedai rolls his eyes and exhales. “Must I do everything myself?” He tugs at his shirt sleeve and toys with a skull-shaped cuff link. “Khan, summon this council. I want this matter settled today.”
A pinched expression crosses the face of Khan Najex. “As you wish, Father. We’ll meet this evening.”
Ashmedai purses his lips. “Very well. Notify me when it’s arranged.” He stands and holds out his hand. “I will make sure the princess gets home safely. If I am correct, there is a certain young demon waiting for her arrival.”
Before I leave with Ashmedai, my eyes dart from the Najex to his son. Colt remains silent. He just stares blankly while worrying his bottom lip. The wave of fury undulating from his father is so intense my soul shivers.
Hadid leads me into a colossal room decorated in varying shades of turquoise, gold, bright blue, and green with touches of bright pink. On one of the matching velvet turquoise sofas sits a djinni with brown hair and a graying beard. His tea-brown eyes reflect the thousand of crystals from the ornate light hanging overhead. He’s dressed in a red suit similar to Hadid’s. On his feet are shiny, black leather slip-ons.
“Welcome to my home. I am Al-Qadir,” he greets in an accented voice, and nods briefly to the blue djinni. “Hadid, it is good to see you.”
Hadid bows his head. “Same here, Father. I introduce to you the incubus known as Cassius.”
The djinni lifts an eyebrow. “It is good to make your acquaintance. What brings you to my humble abode?”
Humble? Was this djinni smoking something? The room we’re in is as long as a football field with chandeliers every few feet. Arches separate the space into compartments. Each one has the same type of furniture and fireplaces in alcoves. Colorful wool rugs cover pink-veined, marble floors. Nothing modest about this museum.
“Father, we are here for Qadira.” Wonder slips into Hadid’s voice. “Where is she?”
Al-Qadir adjusts his position on the sofa. “Qadira has not returned to us. The Si’lat have lost track of her.”
Something isn’t right. According to Hadid, we’ve been gone for days. Colt should have released Qadira by now.
Hadid sits next to his father and gestures toward the vacant sofa across from them. I take a seat and clear my throat. “Excuse me, Al-Qadir, but we were assured your daughter would be here. Ashmedai said—”
Al-Qadir’s head jerks back. “You had an audience with Ashmedai?”
A heavy feeling settles in my stomach. Someone has been lying, and I doubt it was the demon king. “Sir, do you know what has happened with Qadira?”
Al-Qadir strokes his beard. His forehead furrows. “My daughter left here eight days ago, fleeing the agreement between my house and the House of Djonda. She was to marry Prince Shedad. I sent my henchmen to bring her home. In the interim, Shedad has run off. He does not want to honor the agreement either. What are you not telling me?”
I rub the back of my neck. How do you inform a superior demon someone has been using his name in vain? My eyes rock to Hadid. He looks away. Fuck it! I’m on my own here. The djinni can do whatever he wants to me as long as Qadira is safe. I’m well-aware this goes against code—the fellas before females—but Colt crossed that line first.
“Colt Najex is holding your daughter captive.” I lean forward and prop my arms on my thighs. “He intends to make her his consort.”
Al-Qadir’s face turns crimson, and his nostrils flare. His eyes narrow as he appraises Hadid. “Did you know this?”
Hadid loses grip on his human façade and begins fading.
“Don’t you dare leave here!” Al-Qadir roars. The chandelier rattles like loose change in a tin can. Dust falls from the ceiling. A loud pop emanates as Hadid fizzles out. “What does Ashmedai have to do with this?”
Instead of waiting for the blue djinni to reappear, I offer, “Ashmedai promised to speak with his son and grandson. He’s not responsible for Qadira’s capture. I understand one of your henchman is responsible.”
Al-Qadir tilts his head to one side and strokes his beard. “That explains why Farouk is in the dungeon. Hadid placed him there without explanation.”
A beautiful slender woman dressed in a sheer gold gown, which leaves nothing to the imagination, sashays into the room. Her blonde-gray head drops as she goes to her knees.
Al-Qadir doesn’t glance at her. “What is it, Muna?”
Her eyes remain down as she murmurs, “I bear a message from the almighty Ashmedai. Qadira is in his company. They shall arrive here shortly.”
“Thank you, my dear.” He shifts on the sofa. “As soon as they arrive, please direct them to me. Inform my wife.”
Muna nods and rises to her feet. My eyes drift over her slight hips, smooth stomach, and perky breasts. Nothing stirs inside me. I might as well be staring at Hadid.
“You favor my daughter?”
Al-Qadir’s voice draws my attention. “We’re friends.”
His lips angle up and his eyes brighten. “I suspect it is more than friendship. You had an audience with Ashmedai. No one goes for a visit to Hell.”
Before I can entertain his words, heavy footsteps approach us. A smell like singed flesh fills the room.
Al-Qadir stands and extends his arms. “Old friend, it is good to see you!”
My jaw drops as Ashmedai hugs the djinni. He claps him on the shoulder and steps back. “We must talk.”
“Let us go to the garden.” Al-Qadir says.
The two beings leave the room talking animatedly. The only one I’m concerned with stands near an arch. Hadid reappears, his gaze darts from Qadira to me, and he quickly makes an exit.
Warmth spreads across my chest. I can breathe again. My eyes assess her, searching for any sign of injury. Her red silky pajamas are dirty and torn. Her dark hair is matted. Deep circles, beneath her eyes, mar her perfect skin.
Despite her appearance and fatigue, Qadira is still the most exquisite female I’ve ever laid eyes upon. Even in boxy clothing, her curves bend and trap my mind. My thoughts travel south along those curves. My fingers itch to touch her. More importantly, the loneliness I felt is gone. The void I experienced the day Colt took her has withered away. I edge closer, wanting to eliminate the space between us when I se
e the flicker of red in her golden aura.
Has something bad happened to her?
“Cash,” she says. “I am good.”
“You sure? Colt didn’t hurt you or anything?” I’m holding my breath, afraid to hear anything despicable.
“He can only do what I allow.” Her eyes meet mine. “Nothing happened.”
He may not have physically done anything, but something definitely happened. I can feel her weakness, and it’s not because of the cuffs. My fingers curl in.
“What did he do to you?”
Qadira shuffles past me and sits on the sofa. “He kept me in an iron room. I need these cuffs removed.”
My bones ache. It’s her pain I’m sensing. Her discomfort bothers me. She never asked for any of this. “We’ll turn ourselves into Council. I’ll do whatever is necessary to get those things off.”
“No. They will find you guilty of the crimes,” Qadira mutters. “I will not let that happen.”
Voices fill the hallway outside the room. Al-Qadir, Ashmedai, and Hadid enter.
The demon king is first to speak. “The two of you have an audience with Council leaders. They’ll meet within the hour. You should get ready, Qadira.”
“We cannot meet with Council yet,” Qadira starts. “We don’t have a way to prove our innocence. The Najex told the leaders Cash is responsible for murdering humans.”
Ashmedai holds his head back and looks toward the ceiling. “I’m afraid my grandson misled you. My son wasn’t part of the conspiracy. My daughter-in-law planned Qadira’s abduction. She told Colt what to do and say. No one from my family has contacted Council before today.”
“I can help prove your innocence,” Hadid announces.
“How?” I ask.
Hadid grins. “Easy. I can recreate the scene for the leaders. They will see for themselves what happened.”
Qadira reaches for my hand, and I don’t hesitate to grasp it. I say, “We’ll finally put an end to this nonsense.”
“Just to be on the safe side,” Ashmedai says, “I’ll go to this meeting as well. There will be no trickery unless I’m the one doing it.”
Qadira leaves me to prepare for the meeting. In her absence, I consider whether the nonsense with Colt is really over. Never did I imagine my best friend becoming my foe. He completely forgot the code we’ve lived by for the last ten years.
Although Ashmedai claimed Colt’s mother was behind this whole debacle, I’d like to believe it was the Najex’s torturing that pushed Colt. All demons know how to torment, and all of us can only tolerate so much. I remember the agony my mom used to inflict on me as a kid. She used to tell me those moments were a thousand times worse coming from the Najex.
The dissolution of a friendship isn’t the only thing occupying my mind. Having my fate rest in the hands of judgmental supernaturals doesn’t sit well with me. Council has a long history of never doing anything benefiting our community. My sister and her fiancé are a rare exception.
Council permitted their relationship but with a caveat. Kelsie and Victor must reside in the hills and not in town. The leaders claim their presence might influence other supernaturals. Fortunately, Kelsie and Victor like their privacy. The requirement hasn’t fazed them at all.
As for me, I don’t like anyone dictating what I can and can’t do. If Council says Qadira and I are innocent bystanders of the crimes, then we return to life as normal. But if they find either of us guilty… This could be our last day of living.
Either option doesn’t work for me. I am ready to admit the impossible. No way will I live without Qadira in my life. I wasn’t trying to fall for this female. It just…happened.
Since returning from Hell, I’ve been re-evaluating my life. I would have never made the trip for Edwina. Honestly? There’s nothing in my life I’d give up for her. It’s what she tried to tell me that night in the alley. My unwillingness to sacrifice on her behalf is why Edwina and I couldn’t continue. It had nothing to do with her being a bloodsucker or me being a selfish bastard. We weren’t meant to be. Pure and simple.
Circumstances threw Qadira and me together. Part of me can’t help but think the Fates might have crossed our paths intentionally. Those wicked sisters have done worse things, but I’m not mad at them. Everything happens for a reason.
For years, older incubi and even my mother told me Lilin don’t fall in love. They made it seem like a disease we were immune from. It’s why I made the pact with Edwina. I was safe in the assumption. In all fairness, I’m not sure if I’d recognize it. What I feel for Qadira goes beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. Do I love her?
Maybe.
My life was miserable without her in it. She’s the breath of sunshine, the light to my darkness. Qadira chases away my personal demons, making me feel part of something bigger than myself. The female shattered every belief I clung to as an incubus. Bottom line? I’m only good if we’re together.
The phone buzzes. Edwina’s name is on the screen. “Hey, Edwina.”
“Where have ya been?” she yells.
“In Hell.”
The line goes quiet for a beat or two before she says, “Really?”
“Yeah.” I scrub a hand over my face. “It’s a long story.”
“Well, I’ve been trying to call ya for days. Have ya found the djinniyah?”
“Yeah. She’s safe. We have to meet with Council.”
“Okay. I’ll meet ya there.”
“All…” I lose my train of thought when I hear Qadira’s heels click across the floor. “Talk to you later.”
“Cash?” Qadira asks.
“Yeah?” My head rocks up. I notice the sky-high red shoes. My eyes drift up her shapely calves and stop at the skin-tight, red leather dress. The sight sets fire to me, arousing every sense and thought.
“I felt your worrying as soon as I stepped in the room.” She slinks over to me and sits down. “Hadi said he will handle this. I have faith in him. He has never let me down.”
“I’m not worried,” I lie.
“Right. I received the rest of my powers yesterday, Cash.” Her expression slides into a frown. “I feel your anxiety.”
Damn, I forgot about her birthday. We need to do something special. After what she’s been through, a celebration wouldn’t hurt.
“Does that mean you can read my thoughts?” If she knows what I’m thinking, I am screwed in so many ways.
“It’s the gift of perception, nothing more.” She rests her hand on my arm. “Hadi will transport us to town when you are ready.”
I look down at her hand. My silver and red aura intertwines with her gold one. It’s like two separate forces becoming one. The colors twirl together before settling one on top of the other. The last time the auras tried to unite it scared me. And now? Seeing it happen puts a smile on my face.
“What are you smiling about?” Qadira asks.
I squeeze her hand. “Togetherness.”
Her eyebrow lifts. “Care to explain.”
“Maybe later. We better leave.”
In a matter of seconds, Hadid works his magic, and we’re standing in the entrance to the Temptation Club. It’s fairly dark and quiet inside. A definite contrast to the way it normally is—strobe lights and throbbing beats. We walk into the main room.
It’s a fucking tribunal with the leaders and any concerned supernaturals sitting around the room. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. My shoulders are so tight I think the bones might snap. This is a bad idea. We should turn around and leave. Take our chances on the run. Ashmedai offered to remove the cuffs.
The demon king sidles up to me. His hot breath scorches my neck as he whispers, “The offer is still good if that’s what you wish.”
Qadira pushes her shoulders back. “Your gracious offer is appreciated, but we’ll be fine without it.”
“As you wish,” he says and strides to the table of leaders on the side of the room. He takes a moment to sp
eak with a tall, angular vampire with dark hair and a beard—Luc Duquette—before taking a seat.
Luc, Victor’s creator, clears his throat. “Shall we begin?”
“Wait!” A familiar voice rushes into the room.
I turn to see Kelsie and Victor enter the club. My sister wraps her arms around me.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Do you think I’d let you go through this without me?” Kelsie steps back and looks at Qadira. “Hi, I’m his sister Kelsie. This is Victor.”
Qadira smiles. “Nice to meet you.”
I scratch my head. “How did you know I was here?”
Victor speaks up, “My mother called this morning and told me about the meeting. We left Madrid as soon as we could.”
Luc clears his throat. “Victor, you and your…uh…mate are not part of this discussion.”
“My brother stood up for me when I needed it. I’m here to do the same for him.”
“Were you here when the murders happened?” the coven leader asks.
“No, but your mate filled us in.”
Luc’s pale cheeks color slightly.
“Lilin don’t kill violently. If my brother had murdered someone, it would have been by accident.”
Luc opens his mouth to speak. A wisp of blue smoke crosses the table before he can say a word. When it dissipates, Hadid materializes.
“Sorry to be late.” The corners of his mouth lift, and his eyes gleam. “Traffic was horrible.”
“We can do without the comedic moments,” Luc advises.
“What is life without comedy?” Hadid pauses and glares at Luc. “Oh wait, you wouldn’t know, being undead and all.”
“Last warning,” Luc growls.
“Do not get your boxers in a bunch. We are gathered here today,” the blue djinn leans close to me, “to unite this couple in royal… My bad. Wrong script. Ah… We are here today to discuss the ridiculousness of accusing my sister and this stud of murders.”
