Despite the hot bath water, Julia shivered. She was taking too long. At any minute, he could be at the door, knocking on it, talking to her through it while imagining her naked in the bath.
God. She rinsed out the conditioner, then grabbed a towel from the rack next to the bathtub. Working quickly, she dried herself off and wrapped a second towel around her hair. As she paused to send a nervous glance in the direction of the door, a chill went down her spine.
Her duffle bag was sitting on the seat of the chair she’d tucked up under the doorknob.
The last she’d seen it, that bag had been stowed in the cargo area of the Suburban. And she knew Margolis hadn’t brought it with them, because he’d marched her straight to his pickup truck and driven away.
Which meant that Qadim must have retrieved it, then blinked it into the bathroom while she was bathing.
Better than him marching in with it, but even so, Julia couldn’t help feeling violated. After all, he could have left the duffle in the bedroom that was attached to the bath. The djinn had already informed her she would be sleeping in that room tonight.
No, he probably enjoyed having the duffle show up in here because it would send her off-balance, make her start to wonder if he could somehow see through the door or the walls, see her naked body….
Stop it, she told herself. He wants you to torture yourself. So don’t.
Mouth pressed into a grim line, she retrieved the duffle and set it on top of the long tiled counter that stretched across one entire wall of the bathroom. Right then she should just be glad that she’d packed extra underwear and another set of clean clothes. She wouldn’t have to change into her dirty and rumpled clothing after all.
She pulled on panties and a bra, then slipped into the jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt she had folded at the bottom of the duffle. All her toiletries were there, too — deodorant and toothpaste and moisturizer.
There was a blow dryer in one of the bathroom drawers. The house clearly had electricity, so she could dry her hair if she wanted to. But should she waste time on that lengthy process? Then again, her hair would take forever to air-dry. She couldn’t guarantee that it wouldn’t still be damp by the time she went to bed; outside the window, the world was dim and dusky, the sunset come and gone while she was in the bath.
Incongruously, her stomach growled. It didn’t seem to care that she had lost three friends that afternoon, or that she was locked in an isolated country house with a madman and a scheming djinn. Qadim hadn’t said anything about feeding her dinner, but surely he must intend to, if his words about making sure she would be in decent shape to see Zahrias the next day were to be believed.
Grimly, she plugged in the blow dryer and then went to work on her hair. Since it reached nearly to her waist, the process took a while. The entire time, she tried to analyze what she had seen of the house so far, if there was any chance to get away without either Margolis or Qadim noticing. This bathroom and its connected bedroom were on the second floor, and faced away from the road. The bathroom window was tiny, and she knew she’d never fit through it. But maybe the bedroom?
Julia finished with her hair and put the dryer back in the drawer where she’d found it. Afterward, she went to the door and pulled the chair out from under the knob, then headed into the bedroom. Yes, it had French doors that opened onto a balcony. She went to them at once and jiggled on the handles. Locked. Of course.
She could break through the glass, but that would make so much noise that any chance of slipping away undetected would be ruined. Would the element of surprise be enough to help her get away? She’d be on foot, and Margolis had his truck. And she had no idea whether she’d be able to evade Qadim’s pursuit or not. Djinn seemed to know when mortals were around, or they wouldn’t have been able to so mercilessly hunt down those Immune who weren’t lucky enough to find sanctuary in Los Alamos.
“It is cold,” Qadim said from behind her. “You will not need to open those tonight.”
She whirled. The djinn stood just inside the doorway that opened onto the upstairs hall. In his hands he held a wad of gleaming golden fabric. As her gaze fell on it, he extended it to her.
“You will wear this for dinner.”
Again, a shiver ran down her spine. Ignoring it, she said, “I’m already dressed, thank you.”
“What you’re wearing is not suitable. You will wear this.”
Outright defiance didn’t sound like a very good idea at the moment. She stepped forward and took the fabric from him, but didn’t unfold it to see what it actually was. “I wasn’t aware there was a dress code.”
His heavy-lidded black eyes, overshadowed by his brows, seemed to narrow further. “You will meet me in the dining room in a quarter-hour. Don’t be late.” He turned and went out into the hallway, then closed the bedroom door behind him.
Wonderful. At this point, she had no idea as to what Qadim’s intentions toward her might be. Certainly during their conversation in the courtyard, he’d given no indication that he was interested in her personally, only in her usefulness in luring Zahrias here.
He isn’t interested, she told herself. He’s just messing with you. Showing who’s in control, playing little head games.
The thought actually reassured her somewhat. Not because she appreciated Qadim’s maneuvers, but better that than the alternative.
Repressing a shiver, she went to the door and engaged the lock, then finally unfolded the garment he had given her.
It was actually two pieces of clothing, a long fitted tunic with high slits up the sides, and billowy full trousers in a style that she’d seen both male and female djinn wear. The fabric was a supple silk woven in a subtle geometric pattern in shades of light and dark gold. Intricate beadwork surrounded the neckline and cuffs of the tunic.
The ensemble was actually breathtakingly beautiful, but Julia couldn’t take much pleasure in the thought of wearing it. Now, if Zahrias was the one to see her in these clothes, rather than Qadim or Margolis….
She pushed that thought aside, then hastily stripped off her T-shirt and jeans and climbed into the shimmering silken outfit. It fit her perfectly, hugging her curves. How Qadim had managed that feat, she wasn’t sure and probably didn’t want to know.
Something sparkled at her from the top of the dresser. She went toward it, and saw the sparkle had come from a pair of long, dangling earrings in heavy gold, set with what looked like diamonds. Was she supposed to wear those, too?
It sure seemed that way. Julia removed the small silver hoops she wore all the time, and put in the gold earrings instead. When she stared at her reflection in the mirror above the dresser, a vision in gold looked back at her. All gold, from her loose hair to the clothing she wore. Something about that image disturbed her, and she turned away quickly.
What she was supposed to put on her feet, she had no idea. The hiking boots she’d been wearing didn’t seem like a very good match for the fancy clothing she had on. Well, she supposed she could go barefoot; the house’s flooring was a combination of slate tile and wood, but rugs were scattered everywhere, so it should be all right. It wasn’t as if she’d have an opportunity to make a break for it, not with Qadim apparently breathing down her neck every time she turned around.
But when she opened the door to step into the hallway, she saw a pair of gold beaded slippers sitting immediately outside. Had the djinn forgotten to give them to her, or had he wanted her to find them separately, the way she had with the earrings?
Pondering Qadim’s thought processes was probably a fruitless endeavor. Julia stepped into the slippers and noted that they fit her just as well as the rest of the ensemble did. Well, at least she wouldn’t have to go barefoot. That was something.
She descended the stairs, fighting the sense of wrongness that seemed to surround her with every step. How could she be so calm when she should be running away, doing whatever she could to get out of here?
Because she knew she had no choice. The djinn were scary enough whe
n they were being friendly. She had no chance of besting someone like Qadim. All she could do was go along and pray that somehow Zahrias would have the upper hand when he finally did confront his old enemy.
“My God.”
Margolis’ voice. Julia halted on the bottom step and saw that the commander was standing in the foyer, staring at her as if he’d never seen her before. Well, she supposed he hadn’t — not looking like this, anyway.
“I guess Qadim wanted me dressed for dinner,” she said, trying to sound casual. Margolis’ attention was never welcome, but now, in this silky getup that clung to her body and was more low-cut than anything she’d dared to wear in years, it almost seemed as if his hands were moving over her once again, even though he stood a good ten feet from her.
He frowned. “It looks that way. He didn’t say anything to me about it.”
Trouble in paradise. Maybe if she could get Qadim and Margolis quarreling with one another….
She shrugged. “I guess not. Which way is the dining room?”
The commander pointed to the hallway to his left. “First opening on the right.”
Not that she really needed the direction, because as soon as she began to turn, Qadim appeared in the corridor. “I am glad to see that you are punctual, Julia. That pleases me.”
The last thing she wanted was to please Qadim. However, his words seemed to annoy Margolis, which she found encouraging.
“Do I get to have dinner, too?” the commander asked, the faintest of whines entering his voice. “You neglected to mention it to me.”
“I fear that only two places have been set. You will have to do for yourself.”
Margolis’ hands, hanging at his sides, balled into fists. “I think you’re forgetting that I brought her here to you. And you promised me — ”
He didn’t have the opportunity to complete the sentence, because the words were suddenly choked off, and an invisible hand seemed to grasp him by the throat, then push him up against the wall and hold him there. His eyes bulged, and his face began to turn red.
Shocked, Julia began to step forward. Qadim’s gaze flickered toward her, and she stopped where she was. Not that she really cared too much about helping Margolis — she’d only reacted on instinct.
The djinn spoke. “I think you are forgetting your place, mortal. You will get your due at a time of my choosing, and no sooner. Do not disturb me again this night, or it will go badly for you.”
In the next instant, the invisible hand that had been holding Margolis up against the wall seemed to release him. He slid down, but braced himself at the last minute so he wouldn’t crumple to an ignominious heap on the floor. In silence, he turned and stalked off toward the kitchen — but not before sending a final baleful glance in Qadim’s direction. Julia knew she wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of such a glare, but the djinn appeared supremely unconcerned.
“Come,” he said, extending a hand.
The last thing Julia wanted to do was take it, but she knew she had little choice. Especially not after the show of force she’d just witnessed. Swallowing, she came toward Qadim and laid her hand in his, and tried to ignore the unwelcome heat of his flesh. Strange how that same warmth had been so attractive in Zahrias.
Qadim led her into the dining room, a large chamber with an equally large table. As he had informed Margolis, only two places were set at that table. In one corner of the room was a small kiva-style fireplace where a fire crackled away, combating some of the chill she could feel seeping in through the French doors. Maybe they opened onto the courtyard, but it was too dark outside to tell for sure.
“Sit,” the djinn commanded her, pointing to the place setting to the right of the one at the head of the table.
Arguing would be futile, so she did as he’d instructed. At least the wrought-iron light fixture overhead had been switched on; a trio of pillar candles in coordinating wrought-iron holders flickered at the center of the table, but clearly Qadim hadn’t intended this to be a romantic candlelit dinner. Once again she had the impression that he had set all this up to both annoy Margolis and discomfit her.
A bottle of wine was already airing on the table, and Qadim picked it up and poured some into her glass, and slightly more into his own. She couldn’t see the label, but the wine was dark, almost opaque, with just the faintest garnet flicker when the firelight caught it.
“To settling old scores,” the djinn said, holding up his wine glass.
Julia didn’t move. “You can’t honestly expect me to drink to that.”
A smile played around his thin lips. “Ah, perhaps not. Then to new friends?”
She didn’t like the sound of that much better, but she decided not to force the issue. Wrapping her fingers around the stem of her glass, she raised it as well. “To new friends.”
The wine was heavy, with a tinge of earth to it. Well, she supposed it made sense that an earth elemental would choose something with that particular quality. Julia didn’t think she cared for it very much, but that was probably just as well. Then she wouldn’t be tempted to have more than one glass, if even that.
In the next moment, platters of food appeared on the table. By that point, she was a little more used to the way Qadim showed off with displays of his power, but it still startled her. So different from Zahrias, who seemed to take care not to do anything that she’d find off-putting. Yes, she knew he wielded power she couldn’t completely understand, but he never made a spectacle of it.
She didn’t recognize everything that had been placed before her, but it all smelled good. Some kind of rice dish with golden raisins and slivers of almonds, and hunks of meat so richly seasoned and dark with sauce that it took her a moment to realize it was only chicken. A salad of finely chopped lettuce with sesame seeds in an aromatic dressing. Flat bread that reminded her of naan, only delicately seasoned with saffron.
“Is this djinn food?” she asked.
“Yes. Do you like it?”
At least she could be honest about that. “It’s very good.”
He appeared pleased by her reply, because he nodded, smiling slightly. “I am glad to hear that. More wine?”
Julia hadn’t intended to drink anything more than the one glass, but for some reason she nodded and held out her wine glass so he could refill it. The smile still lingered on his lips.
Really, she didn’t know why she’d thought him unattractive. His nose was long, his lips thin, but for some reason they seemed to work together to make a pleasing combination. And his brows were heavy, but the lashes surrounding his eyes were thick and black, so thick she could almost believe they weren’t real — except of course they were.
Looking at him, she could feel a strange warmth throbbing low in her belly. Need, she realized foggily. Desire.
She wanted him.
No, she couldn’t want him. She wanted Zahrias. But wait — she didn’t want Zahrias, because he was weak. A coward. He should have claimed her back when it would have made a difference.
Suddenly, Qadim wasn’t in his chair anymore. He was standing next to her, his robes brushing against her arm. Just that feathery touch was enough to make her heart begin to pound.
Then he bent and pushed her hair out of the way, head lowering so he could lay his lips against the exposed skin of her neck. All her nerve endings seemed to light on fire, and she moaned.
“Yes, my beauty,” he murmured. “You want this, don’t you?”
She did. She wanted him. How was that possible? He was evil — he’d sent Margolis to fetch her, Margolis, who’d killed her friends. And yet her body didn’t seem to care about any of that. It thrummed with need. She had to have him. It had been so very long since….
No. The word seemed to come from somewhere deep within her. This isn’t you. This is Qadim, using his powers to make you think you want him. Remember what Jessica told you about the djinn glamour.
It was like trying to recall a story she’d heard a hundred years ago, but Julia pushed against the f
og in her brain, remembering how Jessica had revealed to her that some of the djinn had used these powers of attraction to get their Chosen to bond with them more easily. Now Qadim was doing the same thing, and she’d almost fallen into his trap.
“No,” she said aloud, laying her hands flat on the table. Feeling the solid surface beneath her palms helped to steady her. “I’m not going to fall for your djinn mind tricks, Qadim, so don’t bother.”
At once he straightened, then crossed his arms across his chest. His dark eyes bored into her. “How is it that you are able to do this?”
“Because I know what you djinn are capable of.”
A long pause, during which Julia thought for sure he must be able to hear the panicky beating of her heart. Defying him like this was dangerous, but she couldn’t — wouldn’t — give in to him. The very thought made her ill.
Then an improbable smile touched the corners of his mouth. “Interesting. I’ve never before encountered a mortal who was able to withstand a djinn’s glamour.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” she said, and reached for her glass of wine and took a sip, hoping she looked casual and unconcerned. Unfortunately, her hand gave a betraying shake, and she quickly set the glass back down.
During this exchange, Qadim had remained standing next to her. After watching her closely for a few more seconds, however, he returned to his chair and sat. Still wearing that faint smile, he poured more wine into his own glass. “You impress me, Julia Innes. Shall we make a bargain, you and I?”
“What?” she asked, tone guarded. Anything he was offering couldn’t be good.
He wrapped his fingers around the stem of his wine glass. The ring of gold and tiger-eye he wore on his pinky seemed to glare at her balefully. “When I best Zahrias tomorrow — ”
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