Even Crazier

by Eve Langlais

  Yet, looking closer at Ella, using eyes that saw beyond the material world, he had to wonder how human. He’d only caught glimpses of her aura because of the spirits that acted as a shield around it. Hearing her speak about them, he understood she listened to a few, but did she even truly know how many actually followed her? Hundreds hovered—over, around, even underfoot, in a thick cloud—which, in turn, was an indication of the power that she could summon. So much power.

  He absently mused how she compared in strength to the ancient ones that cast the demons away. Could one soul sorceress be enough?

  At first glance, he didn’t see Felicia. That was because she was tucked away in a corner, her back to a window with the curtains drawn, behind a large desk, three laptops running, and a phone tucked to her ear.

  She saw him, arched a brow, offered a small smile, and turned away.

  Brat. The gesture had him heading straight for her. He stopped at her back. Listened as she spoke.

  “Are you sure they had red eyes?” She paused, and he heard the reply.

  “Yes, Your Majesty. The infected human was killed, but the reports claim a mist did escape.”

  “And probably found another host. Keep an eye out for more. We’ll be moving out shortly. Have the convoys ready to go.”

  She hung up, and he found himself asking, “Convoys?”

  She craned to peer at him. “You didn’t seriously think I’d make it easy and only have one for them to watch, did you?”

  “You’re splitting the enemy forces.”

  “I am. We can’t afford to make mistakes this close to the end game.”

  “What’s this about red eyes? Did I sleep through an attack?”

  “A few tried to infiltrate the hotel. They didn’t make it very far. Turns out there are ways to detect them when they’ve taken a host.”

  “How?” Tariq asked. Nothing he’d read had mentioned any spells.

  “Cardamom.”

  “The spice?” He frowned.

  “Apparently it acts like demon bane. One whiff and their eyes turn red. Abd al Jabbar, the leader of the local vampire flock, was the one to tell us about it.”

  “They’ve had experience with demons?”

  “More than us, apparently. Could be the rift we’re dealing with isn’t the only one.”

  “Or there are remnants of the past incursion,” he mused aloud. “After all, demons still do exist.”

  “In a dumber version. The ones we’ve encountered of late are definitely intelligent.”

  “Because they have a leader to guide them.”

  “A demon boss?” The space between her brows pinched. “So there really is a Satan?”

  The remark made Tariq chuckle. “Not quite. The legions are led by super demons. Or, as the ancient texts called them, daevils. Basically, higher-ranked fiends who wield power and can actually strategize.”

  She mused aloud. “They act as a hive king to the drones. That’s good news.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Simple. Remove the king and the other demons turn dumb again.”

  “You might be right. The issue lies in how to do so. The daevil controlling them is within the rift.”

  She tapped her bottom lip. “The possessed ones we’ve encountered haven’t been impossible to beat. So I’m going to go out on a limb and say we’ve yet to meet the big bad.”

  “My research doesn’t have much to say about them, other than the fact most are too powerful to inhabit a mere fleshy shell.”

  “Which is why the bodies sometimes explode. The big guy wants out. He just hasn’t found someone who can handle him yet, which means—”

  “—he is searching for a way to escape.” Had the daevil found it in Ella? Tariq kept that tidbit to himself for now. “If we can block the rift, hence blocking the daevil’s influence, we should be able to handle the demons that are left.”

  “Piece of cake,” Felicia said with dry sarcasm. “How is it that you know all this? Before, you seemed to know very little about them.”

  “Because my knowledge was limited,” he admitted. “But I’ve been looking.”

  “How? You haven’t left.”

  “True, and my powers to conjure have been weakening.” Something he hated to admit aloud, but he could no longer ignore it. He couldn’t hide the fact that he might not be as capable as he’d like should it come to a battle.

  “More evidence the demons are siphoning magic.” She tapped a pen on the desk. “Why?”

  “That’s the one thing my research hasn’t shown.” He held up a book that he’d finally located. Not easily. In order to wish for a book, he needed to know the title. No title meant concisely worded demands. “I need a book on demons” could kill. There were millions of books in circulation on the subject. If you added the term “non-fiction,” it dropped to thousands. Human scholars truly loved to write.

  But he couldn’t categorize by author. Or even year. Because translations might be the only existing version and they might not be as old.

  It meant bribing a few scholars to do research. Those librarians and academics read through the books at their disposal and gathered the interesting tidbits, which they wrote in a journal. A magical journal that copied all text to the matching one kept in a null pocket only he could access.

  Tariq waved the journal with its many notes.

  “What is that?”

  “The notes about the true history of demons.”

  Felicia’s gaze narrowed. “I’m going to want to read that.”

  How sexy, a woman who didn’t scoff at the written word. It made a male want to throw her over a shoulder and bring her back to bed.

  Alas, she didn’t sense the eroticism in the moment.

  “Now that we’re all awake, and the sun is about to set, we should get going.” She stood, and he noted her outfit: tanned slacks and a long-sleeve Henley with a round neck. Small brown boots encased her feet. Yet for all that, she still had too much skin exposed. With her hair pinned atop her head, her neck remained bared, as did her face and hands.

  He grabbed her by the waist rather than let her pass. “I thought you were supposed to have something for this.” He brushed a knuckle over the soft skin of her cheek.

  She trembled, and her lips parted. “I do. I’m just not wearing it inside.”

  He eyed the curtains. “Took a risk then.”

  “I am not walking around like a mummy in the daytime, and you can stop mollycoddling me over it.”

  For some reason, this made his lips twitch into a grin. How he enjoyed her strong nature. “Excuse me for caring whether or not you turn crispy.”

  “If things get too sunny, then you have my permission to cast a shadow over me.”

  “As my queen commands.” He swept her a bow and, when she went past, gave her a light swat on the bottom, which she didn’t even dignify with a yelp.

  By the door exiting the suite, he noted a pile of cloaks, the kind that swaddled them like ghosts, one for everyone in their party.

  “Not all of us are allergic to sunlight,” Jamaal remarked as Felicia had them distributed.

  “It’s part of the plan. The guides and some random folk will be wearing some, too.” All part and parcel of the plot to divert and split the demons’ attention.

  Everyone grabbed a bag Felicia had ordered for them because, as she remarked, “We should be prepared in case we get split up or separated from our vehicle.” Each of the sacks contained different sustenance items. Food and water for Ella, more food and water for Ella in Zane’s heavier pack, along with blood supplements in a pill form to pack the most nutrient punch.

  As for djinn who didn’t actually need food or water but existed on magic?

  Jamaal held up a wand. “You sending me to wizarding school?” he asked.

  “Think of it as a magical snack. I found you all some artifacts you might be able to absorb for a quicker punch.”

  A brilliant idea he should have thought of, but being used to absorb
ing magic from the very air, he’d not even thought of trying it. Tariq palmed the lighter he found in his bag. Closed his fist around it and frowned. “I don’t feel any magic.”

  Felicia plucked it from his hand. “That’s because this is just a lighter.” She clicked it. A flame popped up. “To make fire.”

  “I can make fire,” he retorted.

  “With magic. But you said it yourself; it’s weaker. What if you need fire and can’t conjure any?”

  Then he’d probably be dead.

  Exiting their hotel room, they had a short walk to reach the elevator. Once crammed inside, Felicia eyed them all. “Remember the plan.”

  “What plan?” Tariq asked.

  “We’ll be splitting up and taking different vehicles. We need to lose any pursuit.”

  “What if all the drivers are possessed and we don’t see it?” Because they’d certainly never spotted the infected pilot.

  “They all have cardamom sachets to flush them.”

  “And if the demons are resistant to it?”

  “Then we’re screwed. Deal with it.” She arched a brow. “Everyone remember their teams?”

  Jamaal smirked as he shifted closer to Felicia, and Azzam grumbled behind Tariq. He frowned. “What teams?”

  “Three groups. You’re with your grandfather.”

  “No.” He didn’t pause.

  “Yes. We need to be balanced strength-wise. We can’t send your brother who’s still wounded with Azzam. And Zane won’t leave Ella.”

  “Don’t even bother asking,” said the vampire with a dark glare his way.

  “This is a bad idea,” Tariq growled. Bad because he should be with Felicia. “We will have two teams, not three.”

  “Three is better, and you know it. Or are you saying you don’t think I can defend myself?” Her chin pointed, and her stare turned icy.

  He knew better than to insult her honor – and pride.

  “Fine.”

  The doors to the elevator opened onto the main level, and he noticed a pile of luggage being shoved out the front doors heading to a line of vehicles.

  “Ours,” Azzam stated. Seven vehicles in total moved around.

  She really had been busy. Just look at the lobby milling with groups of two dressed in identical robes, also carrying packs.

  They merged into the group and split off, all moving to the front door and spilling out onto the road. Pairs piled into the different chauffeured vehicles. Except for one. Azzam climbed into the back, but Tariq went around to the driver side, opened the door, and pulled the man out, ignoring the brown eyes and spicy scent. Probably not a demon, but he didn’t care. Tariq snapped his fingers, and a wad of cash appeared to placate the yelling driver.

  He slid behind the wheel.

  “This isn’t part of the plan,” Azzam declared.

  “Exactly. So no one will expect it.” Tariq gunned the engine and pulled out before everyone else.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the rendezvous.”

  “But you don’t know where that is. I’m the one who knows because the queen worried you’d leave me behind.”

  Tariq cast a glance at him. “More like you told her I would.”

  “We both know I won’t be much help in a fight.”

  “Then why do you want to come along?” he asked as he cut sharply to the right down a narrow alley. He leaned on his horn rather than slow to let people saunter out of his way.

  “This is the most interesting thing to happen in centuries. Did you really think I’d miss it?”

  “No, but I do expect you to stay out of the way.”

  “I plan to. Now that we understand each other, I can give you the address.”

  “Don’t need it.”

  Azzam leaned forward. “Of course you do. How else will we find the others?”

  “Easy. I’m following the queen.”

  “How do you expect to do that when we left before them?”

  “Because I know where she is.” Humans had GPS; he had something a little more esoteric. Exactly how close had they gotten during sex? He’d not purposely marked her, but that didn’t stop him from sensing the tendril linking them together.

  Did this mean he’d somehow mated with her?

  This was not the time to ponder it. This moment required vigilance. He had to keep himself and Azzam intact that he might properly throttle Felicia later for being headstrong and beautiful.

  He turned left and returned them to a busier thoroughfare.

  “Keep watch behind us. Let me know if you see anyone following.” Because he had no intention of losing track of his queen.

  “Exactly how do you want me to tell you if someone follows? People are driving all over the place.” Ah yes, the chaotic nature of traffic in Casablanca. Vehicles ranged from taxis like theirs, to cars, trucks, bikes, and even mopeds. Then there were the people on the sides of the road, sometimes in it. He had to weave his way around, doing a few turns. Trusting in the tendril connecting him to Felicia, he drove them parallel to her route. He could even get a faint sense of her feelings.

  Nervous, yet determined.

  Determined to drive him wild. He’d lost control with her. Spending himself inside her and then leaving himself vulnerable. Dropping into a comatose-like slumber.

  What did that say about him?

  I trust her.

  Which was a big thing for the djinn. An almost immortal race, they nonetheless did succumb to certain things. A few rare ailments, like the pox, which they could catch from humans. They could starve their magic and kill their core. And if a djinn was in a deep sleep, a demon could simply murder them.

  Usually, a djinn only slept with close family—and even that was rare—or his mate.

  There was that pesky word again.

  His attention veered to that thread and tested her emotion. He got one.

  Irritation and then a strong thought.

  Get out of my head. You’re distracting me.

  The emotion flung him out, and he froze in shock a second too long. Horns blared, and Azzam yelled, “Watch for the donkey.”

  He wrenched on the wheel and pulled over, still stunned by what had happened. Turned to ask the one male who might explain what it meant. “Is it possible to hear someone’s thoughts if they’re not in the vicinity?” Because while he could do it, he had to be touching the person, usually.

  “Why?”

  “No reason.”

  The cuff Azzam gave him didn’t hurt but did cause him to glare. “Don’t hit me.”

  “Then answer the question. Why would you ask about hearing thoughts unless…?” His grandfather’s eyes widened. “You mated with the vampire.”

  “Mated?” He winced, saying it aloud. “I don’t think so. We didn’t perform any ritual. We just had sex.”

  “Did you use protection?”

  If he could have, he would have blushed at the blunt question. “No. I didn’t think I had to. She’s a vampire.”

  “So you came inside her womb?”

  “This is getting kind of personal even for you.”

  “I’m trying to ensure I give you the correct answer. Now, did you or did you not leave your seed inside the woman?”

  “Yes, but only because I know for a fact vampires can’t have children.”

  “Not entirely true.”

  He blinked at his grandfather. “Excuse me?”

  “Vampires can’t have children with each other or humans. You aren’t either. You have magic.”

  “And?”

  “If your body wishes it, then you can impregnate her. Seed her. Make her your mate.”

  “I know just coming inside a woman isn’t enough to create that bond. Otherwise, every young djinn who made a mistake in his exuberance would be shackled for life.”

  “You’re right. It would require intent. If, at the moment of climax, you made a strong wish, a true one, then you might have marked her when you spilled your seed.”

  “How would
I know for sure?”

  “One clue is the hearing of your mate’s thoughts.”

  Tariq drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

  “But that depends on the bond. The most telling sign is usually the soul string.”

  “The what?”

  “For a djinn, you are remarkably uninformed about our mating rituals.”

  “When was the last time any of our kind mated?” The djinn kept to themselves, and he’d never truly cared before.

  “A true mating is rare. I never found it,” Azzam grumbled. “Your parents did.”

  Tariq didn’t remember much of his own parents. According to Azzam, his father overused his magic and turned to dust. Bereft, his mother followed him.

  And now, Tariq was mated to a vampire queen. Even crazier, he didn’t mind it.

  We belong together.

  The more he repeated those words, the more he believed it. How about that? A future with Felicia. She’d probably not be happy about it. Especially when he explained djinn mated for life. But surely, she’d come around. Eventually.

  Danger!

  The feeling screamed at him, and yet it wasn’t his emotion. It was Felicia’s.

  She needed him.

  He slammed the truck into drive and sped away, cutting off traffic, ignoring the honks and angry yells.

  “Was it something I said?” Azzam yelled.

  “The demons are making a move.”

  Fifteen

  Under the pale red light of the first blood moon, Ella paced the dusty road, angry, upset. Alone.

  “They took him. I can’t believe you let them take him.” She shook a fist as she railed against the spirits agitating the air around her.

  “Good riddance.”

  “Never liked him anyhow.”

  “You can do better.”

  The ghosts weren’t smart enough to show sympathy in her time of need. They only cared about Ella’s life to the exclusion of all else. And if they weren’t careful, she’d show them her wrath.

  It still burned hotter than bare feet on sun-baked asphalt that she’d not been able to do more. But the attack came out of nowhere. They had made it to the edge of the city and had just left the lights behind when those other cars shot out like rampaging metal bulls, clipping their vehicle and sending them careening.