POSSESSED BY DESIRE

He wouldn’t feel guilty. She was noor. The wariness he’d felt before about her came steamrolling back. Whatever she was truly after—and he had no doubt now that she was plotting something other than simple pleasure—had to do with his brother. And that meant she was not his ally, not his friend, and definitely not someone he should feel anything for, especially desire or compassion.

  He perched his hands on his hips and stared down at her. Her hair was a wild mess around her head from thrashing, her skin luminescent in the candlelight. And the soft, sweet scent of gardenias he’d noticed earlier only pissed him off more because it still smelled exotically enticing. “Where is he?”

  “He’s…” She hesitated, but before he could bark at her again, added, “in the Pacific Northwest. With my friend Mira.”

  “The human woman,” he snarled.

  Her head snapped his way. “She saved him. She—”

  “I don’t care what she did.” He tugged open the closet door and grabbed a T-shirt from a hanger. “You’re taking me to him.”

  “What?” Her brow dropped low. “I can’t do that. We’re on an island. In the middle of the Pacific. It’ll take days to get there. Flights only leave these islands once per day, and we need to take a boat to the airport first. It—”

  “Put that on.”

  She grasped the shirt he threw at her. “Ashur, be reasonable. Tariq—”

  He moved so fast, her head snapped back, and her words cut off mid-sentence. Leaning on the bed, inches from her face, he growled, “Do not ever speak to me about my brother, noor. Do you understand?”

  Her mouth closed, and she swallowed once, the look in her eyes not just surprise but fear. True fear. Slowly, she nodded.

  An image flashed in his mind. Of him in the dungeons during the days before Zoraida had disappeared, chained and half naked, recoiling from her fury-induced rage. Scared, beaten down, controlled. Not that different from the way Claire looked right now.

  His pulse picked up speed. And something in his chest cinched down tight. A mixture of power and revulsion and guilt that swirled inside his gut to leave him light-headed and…unsteady.

  He wasn’t sure what was happening to him, but he wasn’t about to lose this opportunity. He didn’t know if or when it would ever happen again.

  Forcing the bite from his words, he leaned back and said, “I don’t need boats or planes to travel in the human realm. But I do need you.”

  Her sapphire eyes shifted from scared to wary, and he straightened his spine, willing himself not to back down. He didn’t care if she was pissed. This wasn’t about her anymore, and he wasn’t going to be distracted by any angel, fallen or not. “I no longer care if you want me, noor. You’re stuck with me now. We’re going to see my brother. And you will be the one to light the way.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Claire’s nerves were a mess by the time she tugged sandals from her closet and slipped her feet inside. Aside from everything that had just happened in this bedroom, now he wanted her to take him to Tariq and Mira? Something in her gut said this was not a good idea.

  I want you in ways I’ve not wanted another.

  The memory of his lips forming those words as he’d kissed her earlier in the day came out of nowhere and nudged aside the nerves. Heat flooded her veins all over again, sent tingles to her belly and lower. Standing in front of him, she focused on his black-as-night eyes and tried to find the djinni who’d pleasured her so completely before…before he’d discovered she was celestial. Before he’d realized she wasn’t bound to the opal. Before he’d decided to sexually torture her to get her to do what he wanted.

  Except…that hadn’t felt like torture. The same wicked craving she’d experienced before came screaming back. That had felt…good. Too good. Was she sick in the head because she’d liked being strapped down? What did it say about her that she’d enjoyed giving up control? That she probably would have let him do anything he’d wanted if he’d kept going?

  He held out his hand, but his expression was neutral, and she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “Simply think of their location, and I’ll do the rest.”

  Would he have stopped? Would he have given her release, or would he have prolonged the erotic denial, like he’d claimed? She wanted to believe the first, but the darkness in his eyes warned her she didn’t know him at all. Even if he was Marid, he’d been imprisoned so long by the sorceress, he could very well be as base as the Ghuls Zoraida often employed.

  Unease flitted through her, and she swallowed hard. Knowing she didn’t have another option, she slid her hand against his. His fingers tightened around hers, and before she even saw him move, he jerked her around so her back was plastered to his front, and his arms were closed tight across her body.

  Heat instantly enveloped her, followed by the familiar scent of his skin—spicy, citrusy, clean. And as if he had some magical control over her body, desire reignited in her core. His warm breath washed over the nape of her neck, sending pinpricks of pleasure all along her skin when he leaned close and said, “Stay close to me. Tariq is unpredictable.”

  Her mind stumbled. In the six months that Mira had been with Tariq, Claire hadn’t heard a word from her friend about Tariq being “unpredictable”. But before she could ask what Ashur meant, black smoke swirled around them, and then her feet lifted from the ground. The smoke churned faster. Her hair whipped around her face, stung her eyes. Ashur’s arms tightened, and against her ear, he whispered, “Hold on to me.”

  She grasped the forearm locked tight against her, was happy for the solid presence of his body at her back. As a celestial being, she’d transported from location to location all over the earth, but never in a human body.

  A gasp tore from her mouth when her feet hit something solid. Ashur’s arms tightened more, and she knew if he hadn’t been holding her, she’d have fallen forward. As the smoke cleared, she took in her surroundings and gasped again when she realized they were standing on Tariq and Mira’s deck.

  Pine trees rose around them, the scent of moss and damp earth strong. And ahead, moonlight shimmered off the waters of Puget Sound, sparkling like a million diamonds under the night sky.

  His arms released her, and immediately her body craved his heat. She whipped around and found him already scanning the glass door, peering inside, looking for his brother. But it was the menace in his eyes that sent a jolt of fear straight to her heart.

  She grasped his arm. “Ashur, no. Listen. You don’t understand. Let me explain things to you before you go inside.”

  He looked down at her, but the gentle almost-lover she’d touched before was gone. The same fury she’d seen when he’d heard Tariq’s voice was alive on his face. “Understand what? That he left me to rot?” He jerked his arm from her grip. “This does not concern you, noor. Stay out here until I’m through.”

  Through? She didn’t like the sound of that. Fear turned to panic. “Ashur, wait—”

  He yanked the sliding door open and stepped into the house. Claire couldn’t see anything past his broad shoulders, but she heard voices. Tariq’s surprise. Mira’s shock. Followed by Ashur’s fury.

  “You son of a bitch.” Ashur lunged.

  A scream ripped through the night air. A grunt echoed. Wood splintered. Glass shattered. Voices hollered.

  Claire tore into the room, stumbling across the door track. Light from the large stone fireplace at the end of the great room rippled over Ashur and Tariq, entangled on the floor. A coffee table lay in pieces, broken wineglasses strewn about. Ashur lifted his fist and threw a punch that sent Tariq’s head jerking back. Mira, standing near the fireplace, screamed.

  Then movement to the right grasped Claire’s attention. And she jerked that direction only to see another male—equally as large and dark as Tariq and Ashur—hurl himself toward Ashur’s back.

  “Let go, Ashur,” the male hollered. “Dammit, let go.”

  Ashur jerked out of his grip, landed another right hook against Tariq’s jaw. The male swore, got a bet
ter grip on Ashur, and hauled him off Tariq.

  Tariq sat up slowly and shifted his jaw from side to side. “I see you’ve learned a few moves.”

  “Fuck you,” Ashur growled.

  Wide-eyed, Claire watched the scene, unsure if she should step in or get the hell away. Sure, Ashur had been pissed at her when he’d found out she was celestial, but that had been nothing like this.

  At Ashur’s back, the male still holding him murmured, “Take a breath, brother. No one here’s going to hurt you.”

  Ashur’s body stilled, and he twisted his head to look behind him, suspicion alive in his features as if he’d just realized there was another person in the room. “N—Nasir?”

  The male smiled. And the spread of the lips, the twinkle in the eyes… Even from her viewpoint, Claire could tell he was Ashur’s other brother. “That’s what people call me.”

  Ashur’s brow dropped low. “What…? I thought… They told me you died in the pits.”

  “Not dead,” Nasir said softly, loosening his grip until he was no longer holding Ashur. “At least not yet. I was rescued.”

  He glanced toward the archway that led to the kitchen. Ashur twisted to see what he was looking at. And that was when Claire realized there was another female in the room. A redhead with emerald-green eyes, wearing jeans and a fitted white T-shirt, looking almost as shell-shocked as Claire felt. Claire looked to Mira for clues to who the female was, but Mira was too busy checking Tariq for injuries and helping him up to pay any attention to her.

  “She saved you?” Ashur asked, the snarl in his voice reverberating through the room. “She’s Ghul.”

  Nasir’s jaw hardened. “She’s my mate. And she’ll be your queen soon, so watch your mouth.”

  Ashur’s gaze snapped back to Tariq standing on the other side of the room. “What does he mean by ‘queen’?”

  Tariq swiped at the blood on his lip. When Mira reached up to help him, he whispered, “I’m fine, hayaati.”

  Mira muttered something Claire couldn’t hear, but in the glare she shot Ashur’s way, it was clear she was as ticked with Ashur as Ashur had been with Claire earlier.

  Tariq looked back at his youngest brother. “I abdicated the throne to Nasir. I’ve chosen to stay here.”

  Ashur’s irate gaze cut to Mira. “With her? A human? You betrayed me and Nasir and our entire kingdom for her?”

  Fire flashed in Mira’s eyes. “Now just a minute—”

  Tariq laid his hand over hers, cutting off her words, but his voice held no anger when he said, “Yes. With her. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

  Ashur looked from brother to brother. And from the hatred brewing in his eyes, Claire had the sinking suspicion what had started to feel like a truce was about to escalate into World War III. “A Ghul and a human? No wonder no one came looking for me. You were both too busy getting fucked by our enemies.”

  The female in the doorway to the kitchen drew in an audible gasp. Tariq’s jaw hardened.

  “I don’t care what you’ve been through,” Nasir growled. “You will not talk about Kavin that way.”

  Tension coated every inch of the room. In the silence that followed, Ashur’s inflamed gaze jumped from face to face, finally holding on Tariq’s bruises. And there was something in his eyes. A mixture of hurt and betrayal and hatred that Claire recognized. Recognized because she’d seen it in the mirror. Staring back at her those first few years after she’d been banished to the human world.

  “You don’t command me,” Ashur said in a low tone. “None of you do. Not anymore.”

  Black smoke swirled, and voices echoed. But before either brother could stop him, Ashur poofed right out of the room.

  Silence descended. And when the smoke cleared, Tariq looked her way, followed by Nasir, whose surprised expression told her he’d just realized she was there.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, not sure what else to say. “I didn’t know he was the djinni she’d send. I…” Her lungs cinched down tight and tears she’d never felt before burned her eyes. Tears over what she’d seen and done and was still planning to do.

  Tariq let go of Mira’s hand and stepped forward. “Claire?”

  Outside, a loud noise reverberated, followed by a string of curse words, some of which Claire guessed had to be Marid.

  “Sounds like he ran into the trashcans,” Tariq muttered.

  Claire’s pulse picked up speed, and she looked toward the door behind her. “Why is he out there? Why didn’t he just leave?”

  “He’s bound to the opal you wear,” Nasir said. When she looked his way, he was staring at the jewel around her neck.

  “He can’t get more than a hundred yards away from you.” Tariq added. “At least until his job is done.”

  Claire’s gaze jumped to Mira’s husband, and unease rolled through her belly.

  “How did you find the firebrand opal?” Mira asked, her brows dipping low. “I mean, I thought we agreed if one of us found the bottle, we’d alert the others. How did it get around your neck?”

  Mira’s voice jolted Claire back to the conversation at hand. “It’s…a long story.”

  Nasir sighed and slipped an arm around Kavin’s shoulder when she moved next to him. “Until our little brother calms down, time is all we have.”

  Another string of curses echoed from the dark forest surrounding the house. Claire looked toward the open door again, and her pulse picked up speed.

  “I should go talk to him,” Tariq muttered.

  From the way Ashur had reacted to Tariq’s presence the first time, Claire didn’t think that was a good idea. Plus, she knew the last person he’d want to talk to would be the brother he believed had betrayed him.

  Her stomach grew light. An odd sort of kinship toward Ashur built inside her, one that had nothing to do with the sexual cravings he’d ignited, one that made it hard to draw air. He was djinn; she was celestial. They came from two different worlds and were not supposed to interact. Yet for the first time since she’d been banished—for the first time ever, really—she was drawn to another being. Not because she was commanded, but because she understood exactly what he was going through.

  Tariq moved forward, but she held out a hand, stopping him. “No. Don’t. I’ll go.”

  “But he—”

  She looked back at her friends. “I started this. It’s my fault. And now it’s time for me to make at least part of it right.”

  * * *

  Ashur kicked a can out of his path from the trash bin he’d a knocked over. He’d walked a complete circle around the house but couldn’t get more than a hundred yards away. That damn opal was keeping him locked in place. And until Claire came out—because he sure as hell wasn’t going back in to that house—he was stuck.

  Footsteps crunched on the forest floor, and relief seeped in. He didn’t need to turn to see it was Claire. He could sense her. Or, at least, he could sense the opal. Which, at the moment, was all he cared about.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  “We’re not leaving.”

  He swiveled to face her. Moonlight shimmered over her, highlighting her hair and skin, making her look—for the first time—like the celestial being she was. “Yes, we are. You don’t command me either. Remember that, noor.”

  He brushed past her and headed down the hillside toward the water’s edge. With her outside, he could go a little farther without hitting that invisible barrier, and he needed to get as far from this house as possible.

  At his back, she drew in a breath, let it out. A chill from the damp forest slid down his spine, but he ignored it. His head was too full of realities he was having a hard time believing.

  Nasir was alive. He’d taken a Ghul as his mate. And he was now going to be king of Gannah? Zoraida’s henchmen had told Ashur Nasir was dead. Did they not know Nasir was alive? And did he still wear the opal? The same one Ashur wore but which couldn’t be seen in this realm?

  He stopped at the edge of the water, rested his
hands on his hips, and looked out over the shimmering surface. All of it, every piece of it, was Tariq’s fault. If he’d done what their father had commanded years ago and taken over rule of their land, he never would have been in that village when Zoraida’s army attacked. He wouldn’t have been taken prisoner. Nasir and Ashur wouldn’t have spent years of their lives searching for him, wouldn’t have been captured by Zoraida’s goons themselves. Life in Gannah would be as it was supposed to be. Safe. Predictable. Empty.

  The last lingered in his mind as an owl swooped low over the water. His life in Gannah as the youngest prince had been easy—too easy—even he knew that. He wasn’t the heir. He wasn’t the spare. He’d done anything he’d wanted, and no one had cared. He’d charmed the ladies, slept till noon, hadn’t once worried about responsibilities or expectations or what tomorrow would bring, like his brothers. The biggest complaint he’d had growing up was that his brothers looked at him as the baby and wouldn’t take him along on their adventures. He’d hated that. Hated being left out. But he’d never done anything to prove himself worthy of inclusion, now had he?

  Not until he’d gone looking for them and had been taken prisoner himself. And look how that had turned out.

  “Ashur, we need to talk.”

  His jaw clenched. He especially hated that the angel was behind him right now, when he was dealing with all this shit and couldn’t get away from her. “No, we need to leave.”

  “I understand you’re upset with Tariq, but things are not what they seem.”

  He whirled on his heel, and all that anger he’d been saving for Tariq was unleashed on her. “How do you know him? Why did he call you? Start talking, noor, because I’m not feeling all nice and agreeable like I was before.”

  Her blue eyes held his, luminescent eyes that seemed to sparkle under the moonlight, but he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Doubted he’d ever be able to. “Mira was bound to the firebrand opal. She came to me, months ago, because she wanted to know if there was a way to free Tariq.”

  “Why you? Does she know what you are?”