Sadness. Loss. Emptiness. No matter how they’d connected physically, he wouldn’t pick an angel for a mate if he could, and if she stayed, she’d only be confusing the high she got from really great sex with the emotions she craved more than life itself. But even more than that, if she stayed, whether she succeeded in finding the other opals or not, she’d be condemning him to failure. And eventually, to torture and punishment, all because of her.
Tears burned her eyes as she looked toward the bed where he lay softly sleeping. She might have been willing to do that once before, but not now. Was it because of love? She didn’t know. Wasn’t even sure she knew how to recognize love. She only knew one thing for certain. She might not have the power to save herself, but she could give him the chance to be free.
Her fingers made quick work of the latch at her nape, and the cool stone fell into her hand with a soft jingle. She looked down at the red gem in her palm, alive with swirls of orange and yellow, and recognized she was walking away from something she’d wanted longer than she could remember. But for the first time, she knew she was finally doing the right thing.
She dropped the necklace on the bed where moments ago she’d lain, and slipped out the door without another look back. The living room was empty when she reached the end of the hall. A glance at the wall clock told her it was close to 2:00 a.m. Ashur’s brothers must have given up on him and gone to bed.
That would make her exit all the easier.
She crossed the living room and hit the kitchen. She didn’t trust herself to stick around and wait for a cab. She’d walk the three miles into town and call a cab from there. She didn’t even care that the air was cool and she was only wearing shorts and T-shirt. She had to get away before she couldn’t. Before it was too late. Her hand closed over the doorknob.
“Where are you running off to at two in the morning?”
Claire’s pulse sped up, and her hand froze against the door handle. Turning slowly, she looked toward the dark breakfast nook and made out a shape sitting in the shadows.
“I…” Shit. “I wasn’t running. I left something outside.”
Mira flipped on the lamp over the table. Light illuminated her pink-polka-dot pajamas, her dark hair pulled back in a tail, her raised brow and incredulous expression. “You didn’t bring anything with you, Claire.”
Crap, she hadn’t. Her mind spun for another pathetic excuse.
Mira set her mug on the table. “Everyone’s asleep. I’m assuming Ashur is too, or you wouldn’t be making your escape now.” She winked. “He’s hot, by the way. Even with that massive chip perched on his shoulder. Why don’t you pull up a chair and tell me how you the two of you hooked up. I’ve a feeling there’s quite a story behind that one.”
Unease rushed through Claire’s belly, and she glanced toward the hall. That craving was so strong, so all-consuming, she felt an invisible pull to go back to that room, to climb in that bed, to ravish that body that could make her go blind with lust. But she resisted it. She had to if she had any chance of helping Ashur in the long run.
Mira uncrossed her legs and pushed out of her chair. Reaching into the cabinet for a new mug, she said, “So let’s start with your research. You were tracking the tides. This obviously wasn’t just to help me and Tariq. I want to know why. And just how you were able to find that bottle when we—using all the djinn tricks Tariq and Nasir know—couldn’t.”
Claire pressed shaking fingers against her suddenly throbbing temples. What the hell was she going to say? While Mira set a steaming mug of tea next to her elbow then slid back into her seat and eyed her, she fought for words she knew weren’t going to do anything but make Mira more confused. “I…I thought I could help. And tracking the tides, going to the islands was research I’ll use in future papers.”
“But you summoned a djinni. You did that on purpose. What were you hoping to do?”
Save my people. But even as the thought hit, Claire knew it was a lie. She might have told Sura that was her goal, but it wasn’t. She’d summoned Ashur for purely selfish reasons. So she could find the other firebrand opals. So she could feel. So she could have everything she’d just walked away from.
“I don’t know anymore,” she managed, staring down at the wisps of steam rising off her tea. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. Now…”
Now everything was wrong. And she didn’t know how to fix it. Or even if she could.
She looked up into Mira’s clear eyes. “I can’t help Ashur. I was foolish to think I could. I have to leave.”
“What? You just got here. We need you. I’m awake now because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Claire, no matter what your reasons may have been, you summoning Ashur is a blessing in disguise. Not only do you know the secrets in the Key of Solomon, which you helped me use to free Tariq, but you’re now bound to the opal. You can free Ashur yourself.”
If only it were that easy. “No, I can’t.”
“Why not? Of course you can. You just have to do exactly what you told me to do and—”
Frustration pushed Claire out of her chair. She raked a hand through her hair. “Mira, I told you after you came to see me that the words you uttered that day only worked because of one reason. Do you remember that reason?”
Mira’s brow furrowed, and Claire could tell her friend was thinking back. Then Mira muttered, “Pure of heart. You told me in that moment when I said the words from the Key of Solomon, I was pure of heart.”
“Yes,” Claire breathed. “And it was the magic needed to break the chain and free Tariq. But I’m not pure of heart. I wish I were. I wish I could help, but I summoned Ashur for purely selfish reasons, which have nothing to do with him or you or Tariq or the problems going on in the djinn realm. And those reasons haven’t changed, not even now. If anything, they’ve gotten stronger. If I don’t go now, pretty soon I won’t be able to.”
“I don’t understand.”
No, and Claire didn’t expect her to. She looked down at her mug, sitting untouched on the table, much like her heart.
No, that wasn’t true. Ashur had touched her heart in a way no one—no angel or human or djinn—had ever done. And that sadness came back, pressing against her from every side. “Even if I was pure of heart, I still couldn’t free Ashur. I’m not bound to the opal.”
“What?” Mira’s gaze snapped to Claire’s neck, where the firebrand opal no longer hung. “How did you get it off? I wasn’t able to remove it when I had it. It only opened when—”
“When you freed Tariq. I know. But I’m…different. Ashur’s bound to the opal, but not me. And I’m leaving now, before it’s too late, so you and the others have time to find another woman to give the necklace to. Maybe then she—”
Claire’s chest cinched down hard when she thought of another wearing the opal, of Ashur being bound to pleasure someone else. Even though he wasn’t hers, the thought of him with someone else sent a path of fire straight through her heart.
Which was crazy, because she barely knew him.
She squared her shoulders, reminded herself she was doing the right thing. Even if it didn’t feel like it. “Maybe then she can figure out a way to free him. Because I just can’t.”
She reached for the door. Mira’s chair scraped the floor at her back. “Claire, wait—”
She couldn’t. Not any more. Tears pushed at her eyes, and an empty cavern was growing beneath her ribs. One she didn’t understand but which she feared might swallow her whole. “Tell the others I’m sorry. That I…” She swallowed around the lump in her throat and jerked the door open. “That I’m so sorry. Trust me, you’ll all be better off once I’m gone.”
CHAPTER TEN
A cool wind blew across Ashur’s face, rousing him from sleep. Groggy, he blinked several times, then peered into shadows and dim light.
He was in some kind of bedroom. Warm sheets cradled his body, a pillow lay under his head, and moonlight cascaded over pale walls on every side.
This wasn’t one
of his rooms in the castle in Gannah. It wasn’t gaudy enough. And it wasn’t part of Zoraida’s hideout where he’d been imprisoned and trained. It was too soft. It also wasn’t that hut where he’d been summoned by an angel.
Claire…
Thoughts, memories, events passed before his eyes. Followed by a rush of heat that started in his belly and burned a path straight to his groin.
His cock grew hard when he remembered Claire peering up at him with need and lust in her light blue eyes, and his groin tingled with the memory of her soft fingers reaching for his drawstring, sliding into his pants, wrapping around his cock and finally drawing him into the warm, moist heat of her mouth.
He wanted her again. Wanted to lose himself in her softness and light. Wanted to sink inside her body and forget everything else—his brothers, his duties, the sorceress.
He rolled, reached for her, but found air. He moved his hand, patted the sheets, finally pushed up on his elbow and looked over to find her gone.
“Claire?”
No answer. No movement. He glanced over his shoulder toward the dark bathroom, also quiet. A frown cut across his face as he looked back where she’d been snuggled against him only hours ago. Where could she be?
A sparkle of light caught his attention, and he sat up. Reaching for the sheet, he closed his fingers around the cotton and pulled it back. Then stared down at the firebrand opal against the mattress in disbelief and shock.
No. She’d taken it off? Why?
He reached for it, hoping it was still warm, that it had just slipped off, that it meant she was still close. Only cold, hard stone met his fingertips.
Before he could process what that meant, a great rumble shook the house. The bed groaned, the walls trembled, and then a jolt of energy whipped through the room. His body lifted then slammed back against the headboard with a crack that resonated through his skull and sent pain firing through his entire body.
Dazed, he slumped to the ground. And then the room filled with smoke and he felt his body flying.
No!
Flying toward a darkness he couldn’t stop.
* * *
Mira’s scream brought Claire’s feet to a stop.
She whipped around, was met by a wind that slashed past her face, thrust her hair behind her. Wood splintered, saplings and rocks flew up into the air. The ground shook beneath her feet.
Claire stumbled, caught her balance. Then watched in shock as entire trees were uprooted, their limbs ripped free to thunder to the forest floor. Her mouth fell open, her eyes grew wide. It was like watching a tornado spin around her, a force of nature that didn’t usually occur in the Pacific Northwest. Except nothing touched her.
A roar grew from the house. She jerked that direction. Energy pulsed through the building, a blast of heat and light that rocked the entire foundation. Inside, objects crashed to the floor and shattered.
She didn’t think. She reacted. Racing back across the damp earth, she jumped over downed logs and debris in her path. By the time she reached the porch, she was breathing heavily. The house had stopped shaking, but when she pulled the kitchen door open, she gasped at the mess of plates and furniture and broken glass strewn across the floor.
A groan echoed at her right. She shifted that way, then lurched into action. “Mira.”
Her friend lay at an angle against the breakfast-nook wall. Blood trickled from a cut on her forehead, and her eyes were dazed. Claire stooped to help her to her feet. Footsteps pounded somewhere close. She turned just as Tariq burst into the small room.
“Hayaati.” Tariq was at Claire’s side in a flash, taking Mira from her arms and gently checking her wounds.
“I’m fine, Tariq,” Mira said. “I’m fine, really. I just banged my head.” She pressed her fingers against the cut. Winced. “What the hell was that?”
“She called him back.”
At the sound of Nasir’s voice, Claire looked toward the archway where the djinn prince, wearing nothing but pale blue pajama pants, stood in the center of the disaster with Kavin at his side. Both of their faces were pale, their hair a mess, cuts and bruises already forming over their arms and faces where they’d obviously been hit by debris. But when he held out his hand, all the air was sucked from Claire’s lungs.
The firebrand opal glittered under the kitchen lights. “This was on the mattress in his room.”
Tariq’s eyes grew wide, then his gaze jerked toward Claire. “You took it off? How? What did you do?”
“I…” Panic closed in around Claire as she looked from face to face. “I thought I was helping. Giving him a chance. Why would she call him back?”
“Because he failed,” Tariq answered. “How did you take it off? And why don’t you look as banged up as the rest of us?”
“I—”
“She left,” Mira answered quickly. “She was already outside when that—whatever it was—hit.”
Tariq moved to the window. “How long?”
Mira glanced toward Claire, then to her husband. “Minutes.”
His dark gaze landed on Claire again, and this time, fear pushed in with the panic. He crossed to her, jerked her chin up with his hand. Stared hard into her eyes. “You’re not injured. You should be dead if you were outside when Zoraida’s fury hit. Entire trees are uprooted out there. What are you?”
The confusion filling Tariq’s eyes told Claire this time, he wouldn’t be deterred. “I…” That energy had come from the sorceress? Because of her? And now…what did that mean for Ashur? “I was just trying to…to help.”
Tears pushed against her eyes. And that emptiness grew beneath her ribs. Grew so wide she was afraid it might swallow her whole.
“Holy Allah,” Nasir muttered from the doorway. “She’s not human. She’s celestial. Look at the tear on her cheek.”
Claire sniffled, tried to wipe it away, but Tariq’s hand grasped her wrist, stopping her. They closed around her, and every set of eyes focused on her cheek. At the tear even she could see was glowing.
“An angel,” Tariq muttered, his gaze jumping back to her eyes. “No wonder you knew the secrets of the Key of Solomon.” Rage erupted in his irises. “What were you trying to do? Why did you summon my brother? What kind of game are you playing with us?”
“Tariq, stop!” Mira pushed her way between Claire and Tariq, preventing him from grabbing her other arm. “Stop right now. Can’t you see what this is doing to her?”
Tariq stared down at her, his gaze alight with anger and malice, but Claire was beyond caring. All she could think about was where Ashur had gone. What was happening to him. And that by trying to do the right thing, once again she’d made the wrong choice.
Tariq’s hand released her wrist. Claire slumped against the wall at her back, then slowly slid to the ground. Pain sliced at her. A pain that was a thousand times worse than the emptiness she’d felt before.
“Tariq,” Mira whispered. Then, kneeling next to Claire, she softly added, “Claire, tell us what happened.”
She didn’t know where to start, but before she realized what she was doing, the words were free, rolling, growing, spilling out. About her, about her order, about the reasons she’d searched for that bottle and why she’d summoned Ashur to begin with.
When she was done, silence settled over the shambles in the kitchen. She swiped at her damp cheeks, thankful at least that the words had forced her to stop crying. She hadn’t even known she could cry until just now.
“Holy Allah,” Nasir repeated. “That’s why Zoraida’s so pissed Ashur failed. Because an angel’s soul is stronger than that of a human.”
Tariq looked toward his brother. “That was more than her normal temper tantrum.”
Nasir nodded. “She needs the angel’s soul to regain her strength.”
Claire’s head hurt so bad, she was having trouble following the conversation. The brothers seemed to forget there were others in the room. “We don’t like to be called angels. It implies wings and halos, which we don’t have
. We prefer the term celestial. And I don’t understand. Zoraida is already strong. She’s a sorceress.”
“Who’s been imprisoned in a bottle for the last six months,” Tariq said, finally cutting his gaze her way. “Zoraida gets strength from the souls her pleasure slaves corrupt. Without them, she grows weak, and she’s been without for quite a while now. Did Ashur know what you are?”
“Not at first, no.”
“But he found out?”
“Y-yes.”
“And how did he react?”
Claire swallowed hard and looked up at Tariq, remembering not only the fury but fear in his eyes when he’d realized what she was. “He…he wasn’t happy. He made me send him back.”
“But he returned, didn’t he?”
“Pissed, I’ll bet,” Nasir added. “Zoraida would have made him come back.”
Claire glanced Nasir’s way, then looked at Tariq, who seemed just as eager to hear her answer. “Yes,” she finally said. “He…he didn’t want to have anything to do with me after he found out. At first, at least.”
Tariq looked across the kitchen to his brother. “My powers won’t be of any help.”
“Mine will.” Nasir turned his gaze to Claire. “She’s the only one who can go after him.”
Claire’s head jerked up. “What?” She sniffled again. Looked from face to face. “Didn’t you both hear what I said earlier? My powers are bound.”
“In this world,” Nasir answered.
“What does it matter? I’m not a fighter. I wouldn’t know how to rescue him even if I could. I don’t know the djinn realm.”
“We’ll tell you what you need to know.”
Tariq’s eyes were alive with light and excitement, as if things had already been decided. Slowly, Claire braced her back against the wall and pushed to her feet. “I…I’m not the one to do this. Both of you…you should go.”
“We can’t send ourselves to her lair,” Nasir answered. “And Tariq is right. His powers lessen each day he’s here. His won’t be enough. Not for what you have to do.”