Brett nodded.
“It is rumoured to be a dark force of nature, a weapon from the underworld itself, and yet they say that Orin holds it in his grasp. That he controls it. Now tell me, what can’t a man do with power such as that? Power and immortality give him the luxury of playing the long game. Mark my words, he has more than claiming Lindrealm up his sleeve.” He pursed his lips like he’d sucked on a lemon. “I tell you Farah, he has us here for a reason.”
Farah threw up her hands. “Well, I for one would love to know what that reason is. We’re just two unremarkable djinn with an average income and a simple home. What could he possibly want from us? I tell you, there has been some mistake, and as soon as it is discovered they will let us go.”
Naseem met his gaze, one corner of his lips turned down, his eyes mournful. He knew they weren’t getting out of here alive. If there had been some kind of mistake, then once the error was discovered Orin would simply have them killed—why set them free to tell the tale in the fifth dimension—and if they were here for a reason, once that purpose was fulfilled they would be dispensed with. Once again, leave no evidence.
Like Farah said, they were average djinn who would barely be missed.
Brett hid his thoughts with a smile. “I’m sure everything will be sorted out in no time.”
Naseem offered him a small smile of gratitude, and Farah positively beamed.
A clatter at the door broke their camaraderie, and Brett exhaled at the sight of Vincent’s solemn face at the bars.
It was time.
Bring on the pain.
21
The game was over, and Baal and I had been sorely beaten by the Irina and Agares duo. My belly hurt from laughing too much, and by the time we retired to the lounge area I was more than ready for bed.
Curled up in one of the huge seats by the fire, listening to the murmur of conversation, my eyelids drooped and closed as the heat from the flames seeped into my bones.
“It looks like our future queen could use a soft bed,” Agares said.
“I’ll show her to the guest room next to mine,” Irina said.
“No,” Baal said softly. “Don’t wake her. I’ll carry her to bed. She’ll be sleeping in the room next to mine.”
There was a long beat of silence.
“But …”
“Shut it. Irina,” Agares said softly.
They thought I was asleep, and I almost was. Lifting my eyelids was just too much of a workout right now. A rustle, and then strong arms lifted me from my seat. Baal’s scent enveloped me, and I curled into his solid chest, nestling into the crook of his neck. He was warm and solid and mine.
There were no boundaries to adhere to in this sleepy state, and I revelled in the contact, inhaling him until my head spun. Just one moment of weakness. His arms tightened around me in response, and his lips brushed the top of my head.
“Habibtaa,” he whispered.
And then the ride was over and my body was being lowered onto a soft mattress and covered with the softest quilt. I snuggled into the pillow. My limbs were already liquid. I should take off my leg … just so tired …
_____
“Time to get up, Your Majesty.”
There was tightness in Irina’s tone, audible even through a mist of sleep. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sat up. She’d pulled back the drapes and was standing in a shaft of errant sunlight, hands on hips, lips pressed together in a firm line. The room flashed bright as lightening lanced through the churning clouds outside, and her cobalt skin gleamed dangerously in its afterglow.
“Hey, what time is it?”
“Almost noon.”
I yawned and stretched. “I don’t usually sleep in this late.”
“Ahuh.”
Her gaze fell to the foot of my bed, to the prosthetic lying at the bottom of the huge mattress.
How? I hadn’t … Baal had … Oh god. I groaned, dropping my face into my hands.
He’d removed my leg, he’d seen me.
It felt too intimate too much.
Irina cleared her throat. “Um, you need any help?”
Her tone had softened somewhat, and it confused me. One moment she was all bristly, and then next she was like, here, have my last cupcake.
I shelved the embarrassment and emerged from the cocoon of my palms. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
She inclined her head. “Alright. I’ll see you in the dining room.”
“Where’s Baal?”
She paused at the door. “Busy. I told him I would wake you up.”
And there it was again—that tone. I’d learned a long time ago that if I was going to be working with someone, then it had to be cards on the table—a mutual respect. If I didn’t like something they did, I’d tell them, and vice versa. In a world where I expected my co-workers to have my back I couldn’t afford there to be any hidden animosity.
She reached for the door handle.
“Wait.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “You want help after all?”
Her gaze flicked to my prosthetic.
I smiled. “No Irina, I want to know what’s bothering you. You seemed fine toward me yesterday evening, but now you sound almost angry with me. If I’ve done something to upset you, I’d like to know what that is so I can possibly avoid doing it again.”
She turned to face me. “Well, you don’t beat around the bush, do you?”
I shrugged. “Life is too short. If I’m gonna be working with you, trusting you, then there can’t be any unresolved issues between us.”
She crossed her arms under her breasts. “What are your intentions toward Baal?”
Well, I hadn’t been expecting that. Ah … She had feelings for Baal, or maybe they had a thing, and she thought I was trying to get my claws into him.
My neck heated, but keeping my expression impassive I quoted a line from one of the few battered historical romances I’d read. “My intentions are completely honourable, I assure you.”
Irina stared at me blankly. “What does that mean?”
I wasn’t entirely sure. “I mean, we’re friends. I value his opinion, his advice and I … I care about him, about what happens to him.”
“And that’s all?”
Anger ignited in my chest, what gave her the right to question me? “Are you and Baal romantically involved?”
She balked. “What? No!”
“Are you sleeping with him?”
“Why would you even ask me that?”
“Because if none of the above is true, why would you care what my intentions toward him are?”
“Because I care about his welfare, and I don’t … I don’t want him to get hurt.”
I snorted. “You think I could hurt him?”
“I think you are the one person in all the realms right now with the power to do just that.”
Her words were like a blow to the chest, leaving me momentarily speechless.
Her shoulders slumped. “Look. I have nothing against you personally, and I know you’re going to be queen, and if you wanted you could have me executed. But I’ve known Baal all my life. He’s been like a surrogate father to me, so if I don’t say this I’ll never forgive myself,” she took a deep breath. “If you hurt him I will find a way to make you pay.”
We stared at each other for a long beat.
Well, now we had that sorted. “Okay, sounds fair.”
“Good.”
“See you in a bit?”
“Yes, the dining room is downstairs, first archway off the domed chamber we were in last night.”
“Got it.”
She slipped out the room, and I fell back onto my pillows, Irina’s statement swimming round and round inside my head as I slowly absorbed its meaning.
There was only one conclusion.
Baal had feelings for me.
22
The dining room wasn’t just a dining room, it was also a kitchen. A large space filled with light from the many windows that made up its
Agares was sipping from a mug almost the size of his face, and Irina was tucking in to what looked like a plate of golden pancakes smothered in syrup.
My stomach grumbled loud enough to attract everyone’s attention.
Agares raised his mug, Irina saluted with her fork, and Baal lifted the pan off the hob to slide a perfectly circular golden pancake onto a plate.
“Here, eat up. I’m making more. There’s syrup on the table.”
I walked over quickly and took the plate. Our eyes met and I offered him a tentative smile, suddenly overcome with shyness.
“Thanks, and thanks for,” I looked down at my leg then back up at him.
His eyes scanned my face. “I hope I wasn’t presumptuous in doing that. I just wanted you to have a good night sleep.”
“No, it’s okay.” And I realised it was. There was no embarrassment now we were talking about it. After the initial cringe when I’d woken, there was no awkwardness.
I took the seat next to Agares and picked up the cutlery beside the place setting. Cutting a bite, I popped it into my mouth and almost died as flavour exploded on my tongue.
Irina burst out laughing. “You should see your face.”
Agares chuckled. “The first time I tried Baal’s pancakes I couldn’t stop eating. I almost made myself sick.”
Swallowing my mouthful, I cut a bigger bite. “These aren’t pancakes, they’re bites of heaven.”
The pancake was gone too quickly, but Baal slid another onto my plate.
I dug in. “Who knew that djinn ate pancakes?”
The room fell silent.
I looked up, a forkful of pancake hovering at my lips. Everyone was staring at anything but each other.
Baal broke the silence. “Not as a rule, we don’t. But I like them, so we have them when we come here.”
Slipping into the seat next to mine he gently guided my fork into my mouth.
I chewed happily.
“Seriously, you should see your face,” Irina said again.
I probably looked ridiculous grinning around a mouthful of the most delicious pancakes I’d ever tasted.
“What else can you make?”
Baal cocked his head. “Why?”
“I just want to know if you’re a one trick pony.”
His brows shot up. “A pony huh? Well, let’s see. I make a pretty good beef and vegetable soup, and I’ve had compliments on my lamb, tomato, and peas rice.”
“Baal can cook anything,” Agares said. “It’s a gift, and it has the females eating out of his hand.”
The light in Baal’s eyes dimmed somewhat. Once again the room fell into silence. He turned his head away, fixing his gaze on the table top.
How many women had he wooed with his cooking? How many women had he had in his bed? I ran my gaze down the side of his face, revelling in his aquiline profile, the long dark lashes that cast shadows against his cheekbones, and the firm jaw line that begged to be kissed.
“Yes, you should see your face,” Irina said softly, just as Baal turned his head to capture my gaze.
Was I quick enough to mask my expression, to suck back the drool that must obviously be dangling from my lips and hide the longing in my eyes? I lowered my lashes, but not before I caught the flare of need in the emerald depths of his eyes.
Agares cleared his throat. “Maybe we should go through the itinerary for The Meet?”
Irina pushed back her chair. “I’ll come with you.”
They clattered out of the room, and after a moment of commanding my pounding heart to be still, I risked a peek at Baal. He was staring at the table again, tracing random patterns on its surface with his index finger. When he spoke, his voice was lower than usual, huskier. It tugged at my core, making my fingers ache to touch him.
“You don’t owe me anything, Kenna. My aid does not come with a price tag. I do what I know is right. And the throne belongs to you. Your decisions once you sit on that throne must be for the good of your people.”
What was he trying to say? Was he telling me not to feel anything for him? Or was he saying I shouldn’t feel obligated to reciprocate his feelings? I was so confused. Things had been simple with Blane. We’d been attracted to each other and we’d fucked. A lot. But that had been an age ago; a different time, a different Kenna. Everything seemed more complicated now—the voices that whispered to me at night when my guard was down, the tug in my solar plexus that told me Erebus was thinking of me, calling to me, and the throne which waited for me—an unknown entity waiting to judge whether I was worthy, despite my heritage. The only constant in the maelstrom was Baal. I wanted to tell him all this, but the words grew tangled on my tongue, so the only thing that emerged was, “I know.”
The air stirred suddenly in the room as an eerie caw lifted the hairs on the back of my neck. A peculiar whooshing sound filled the air.
Baal sat up straight, his attention going to the archway. His lips lifted in a small smile. The whoosh grew louder. The caw was like a finger rushing up my spine, and then a huge bird flew into the room in a flurry of iridescent vermilion and golden feathers, lethal sharp beak and talons. Baal held out his arm, standing to receive the monstrous beauty, but it sailed passed him.
My heart punched my ribs.
It was headed straight for me.
23
Baal cried out in alarm but I couldn’t move. It was as if someone had glued my butt to the seat.
The monster bird’s wings clipped Baal, knocking him aside, and I held up my arms to shield my face, expecting the bite of talons at any second.
One second. Two seconds.
I slowly lowered my arms and stared at my startled reflection in glittering black eyes.
“Kenna, don’t move.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. The thing was huge. It’s body almost the size of mine, and it was right in my face, close enough to open that curved predator beak and take a huge bite.
“Agni,” Baal’s voice was a purr. “Agni, come to me.”
She swung her gaze toward him, shaking her head so the gorgeous plume that started at her forehead and fell down her back shimmered.
Baal held out his hand to me, and I reached out slowly, not wanting to spook the bird. My fingers grazed his just as Agni turned her attention back to me.
I froze, captive in those fathomless eyes—intelligent, ageless eyes that seemed to speak to me, soothing me, inviting me to engage. There was no conscious thought on my part as my hand came up to caress the plumage at her neck, so silken and soft.
Her black eyes closed, and she began to sway as the first notes of a lilting melody drifted up into the air as if rising directly from her skin. Each note, each rise and fall filled my heart with a longing I couldn’t define, a yearning for a time or a place, an eternal chase of the elusive threads of ancient memories. The melody rolled up into the air like a crescendo, burrowing into my heart, and tearing at it as if searching for something long hidden and forgotten, and then all too soon it was over.
Agni opened her eyes, and even though I knew it was impossible for a bird, I swear she smiled.
“Oh, god!” Irina appeared in the archway. Agares at her back.
I sensed their presence in the periphery of my consciousness, but I wasn’t ready to dissolve the connection I’d somehow forged with Agni. The bird, however, was done with me. She backed up, rushed across the table, and launched herself into the air, flying straight at Irina and Agares who were blocking the path.
Agares cursed, grabbing Irina by the waist and diving out of the way as the majestic creature made her exit.
I watched her leave, my chest a mass of butterflies, my throat choked full of emotion.
“Kenna?”
I tore my gaze from the arch and focused on Baal. His eyes were glittering, his mouth soft as he reached for me, running the pad of his thumb across each cheek.
I’d been crying, and the weight was still there in my chest—sorrow and joy and something else I couldn’t define.
“What was that?” My voice was a breathless whisper
It was Irina who replied, her tone laced with wonder. “That was Agni, the last bennu in existence. You may be more familiar with the term phoenix.”
I looked to Baal. “Is she yours?”
He shook his head. “Agni belongs to no one, and I haven’t seen her in some time.”
“And that song?”
He swallowed, his throat working. “That was for you, Kenna.”
I glanced across at Irina and Agares. There was something missing here, something they weren’t telling me.
“Why did she sing for me?”
Baal smiled. “Agni knows no master, but each life she chooses a champion. It looks like she’s chosen you.”
Agares and Irina exchanged looks over Baal’s shoulder.
No, there was something more that he wasn’t telling me, but I knew him well enough to know that pressing the issue now wouldn’t get me the answers I needed. If I wanted answers I would need to pick my moment.
The heaviness in my chest was dissipating, and although Agni’s melody lingered in the back of my mind like a forgotten lullaby, the strange grip she had just exerted on me was gone.
I pushed back my chair and stood. “Well, in that case we better get to work on making sure I don’t disappoint.”
Baal’s smile widened into a grin. “I’ll make some chai.”
And just like that, the strangeness was brushed aside.
As I made my way back into the lounge and settled myself into my seat by the fire, I resolved to do a little digging. They were hiding something and I was determined to find out just what it was.
24
“Are you sure I can’t wear jeans?” I asked.
Irina chuffed. “Only if you want to alert everyone at The Meet of your true nature. Djinn do not wear jeans, and sharmuta especially do not wear jeans.”
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