Ashur had seen Zoraida pissed before, but the fury currently raining down on him now was unlike anything he’d experienced before.
She yanked the whip from the guard’s hand. The leather whistled through the air and snapped across Ashur’s back, lashing through his skin. Burning pain shot all along his spine.
His body jerked. The chains around his wrists bit into his skin. He ground his teeth to keep from screaming out. The whip whirred again, sliced into his flesh over and over until his vision blurred. Until the cell wall drifted in and out of focus and he had trouble deciphering his surroundings.
“You will suffer like no djinni has suffered before,” she growled as she struck out. “I gave you a simple job and you failed. Just like your brother. Used by an angel. Conned into giving her exactly what she wanted. You should be disgusted with yourself.”
Whir. Snap. Singe
…
Claire hadn’t used him…had she? She’d wanted to help him gain his freedom. She’d told him she would. But as the whip lashed out again and again, and he winced at the pain, his words—and her words—came back to him.
“
When will you have what you want, Claire
?”
“
When I’m thoroughly satisfied
.”
He’d satisfied her. He’d felt her release around him, had seen it in the pulse of light emitted from her body. She’d told him she’d wanted to feel, that she’d risked everything for that experience. And then when she’d gotten it, what had happened? She’d climbed out of his bed and taken off the opal that bound him to her.
Was it possible it had all been a lie? Her reason for summoning him? Her story about why she’d been banished? Her declaration that she would help him gain his freedom? She was the first person in a long time he’d felt anything for, but even he’d admitted feelings could be a weakness. That they caused a person to make faulty decisions. He was with Zoraida now because he’d loved a brother who’d betrayed him. Was he stupid enough to have made the same mistake with Claire?
Whip. Snap. Burn
.
“I gave you one simple job!” Zoraida hollered. “Bring me the angel’s soul. But you failed at even that. You are useless!”
“My lady,” one guard gasped in a shocked voice as she continued to beat him. “You’ll kill him.”
The end of the whip dropped to the stone floor with a slap. And as Ashur hung his head and worked to catch his breath in the pause, he heard Zoraida’s heavy breaths at his back.
“Kill him,” Zoraida muttered. “That’s a brilliant idea, guard. But not here. I think we’re going to make an example out of him. Nuha?”
“Y-yes, my lady,” Nuha said from somewhere close.
“I think a public execution for this traitor is in order. Those who serve me need to know there are severe punishments for failure. Where is his brother? The other djinn prince?”
“Nasir? You sent him to the pits.”
“Call him back. I want him to witness what happens to those who fail me. And then you will take him on as your personal trainee. If he chooses not to serve as my pleasure slave like his brothers, I’ll gut him as well and send his head in a box to his father. Then I’ll declare open war on the Marid tribe. No tribal prince will best me. Not when I hold the power of the opals. Every Marid will rue the day their nobility went to war with a sorceress.”
“Y-yes, my lady.”
“And clean up this rat’s wounds. I want him looking his best when he’s executed. An example for all who dare to challenge me.”
The whip landed against the floor with a thud. Footsteps echoed, and Ashur turned his head just enough to see Zoraida pause at the entrance to his cell.
She braced one hand on the bars, drew in a deep breath, blew it out again. But she didn’t look good. Her skin was sallow, her dress hanging off her body as if she’d lost significant weight recently, and the line of her shoulders told him the few lashes she’d given him had drained not only him but her of strength.
She left the room in a blur of blue silk. Behind him, Nuha barked, “Guards, release him.”
The guards shuffled over and unhooked his wrists. He didn’t have the strength to hold himself up. He slumped to the floor as soon as they let go.
“Now wait outside,” Nuha ordered.
“But—”
“Now!”
Boots echoed, and then the cell door swung shut. In the silence that followed, Ashur breathed deep, unsure what to expect.
Nuha crossed on silent steps and looked down at him. Then sighed. “Did you learn nothing from me? I told you to please the mistress, not piss her off.”
He sensed more than saw Nuha’s frown. She knelt in front of him. But she was smart enough not to touch him. “I tried to warn you, Ashur. I tried. Why couldn’t you just corrupt the angel’s soul like you were sent to do? She’s celestial, for Allah’s sake. All djinn know not to trust angels. They’re evil.”
He did know not to trust an angel. Zoraida had warned him. Every authority figure he’d ever looked up to as a child had told him to be on the lookout for celestial beings when in the human realm. And he’d tried to keep his distance from Claire but…she hadn’t stolen his powers. And even though she’d left him after the greatest sex of his life, if she’d truly been after the opals like she’d claimed, she could have used him to cross into the djinn realm to find them. And still she hadn’t. She’d walked away.
The pain drifted to the back of his mind. He’d spent years feeling left out, unchosen, the third wheel. But with Claire he hadn’t felt any of those things. He’d felt…strong. Desirable. Whole. Maybe for the first time ever.
You are not evil, Ashur. And the sorceress does not hold sway over you, not unless you let her. I do not believe you will incinerate my light. Not when there is goodness in your heart. I trust you
…
His pulse picked up speed. She had trusted him. That hadn’t been a lie. He’d felt it. Not just in her release, but in the way she’d given herself to him. And deep inside his heart—a heart he now knew he did have thanks to her—he was certain that she hadn’t betrayed him, not like Zoraida and Nuha wanted him to believe. She’d simply walked away when she could. She’d done what he hadn’t been able to do. She’d saved herself.
He lifted his chin. Narrowed his eyes. Peered upon a female he knew intimately from his training but had no desire to get to know personally. Not like Claire. “Evil does not reside within one race. It lurks in the hearts of those who have free will. The sorceress knows this. She feeds on it. And we fall prey to it because we are weak. But no matter what you or her or any of her slaves do to me, I won’t be the one to incinerate goodness.”
Nuha’s face reddened. “Goodness? Stupid, djinni. You think the angel is good? Look around you. If she were so good, she wouldn’t have abandoned you here. And thanks to your misplaced loyalty and foolishness, your race will suffer.”
His mind drifted to thoughts of his father, the ailing king. Of his brothers, Tariq and Nasir, whom he’d left in the human realm. Even if Nasir was called back to Zoraida, Ashur had faith his brother would fight the sorceress. He’d survived the pits. He was obviously stronger than Ashur had given him credit. And Tariq was free now. If war erupted in Gannah, Ashur believed in his heart that Tariq would return and fight for their people, even if it meant leaving his human mate.
“
Goodness always triumphs over evil. Always
.”
Slowly, he pushed to his feet. Surprised, Nuha rose, her eyes wide as she watched the muscles in his arms flex and strain.
Blood ran down his back, pooled near his feet, but he ignored it. When he reached his full height, he stared down at the dark-haired female and set his jaw. “Zoraida will not win this fight. Even when I am dead, someway, somehow soon, she’ll fall. And you’ll fall right along with her. Mark my words, Nuha.” He leaned close. “You’re all about to die.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Darkness overwhelmed the senses. Claire’s pulse pounded in the cool night air as she looked toward the dark shape looming in the distance. She wasn’t a savior. She’d never been a savior. She was stupid to come here alone, to let them talk her into this. What if she failed?
Panic pressed in, and sweat broke out over her skin. She should turn around. Go back. Tell Nasir and Tariq they had to come up with some other plan because she wasn’t the one…
“
Goodness always triumphs over evil. Always
.”
Her words to Ashur, just hours ago, filtered through her mind. And in the aftermath, her pulse slowed, her skin warmed, and somewhere deep inside, a strength she didn’t know she had gathered and grew. She stared at what looked like a rock formation against the starry sky but wasn’t, and focused on breathing. Inside there were tunnels and caverns and an entire compound hidden from view. Tariq and Nasir had described it as best they could, and thanks to Nasir’s powers, which she now controlled, she’d been able to transport to this dark bluff overlooking Zoraida’s stronghold without any of her sentries knowing.
She may have failed at everything else she’d ever done, but she wasn’t going to fail at this. She couldn’t. This was more than helping that man comfort his dying son. This was about saving a life and putting it before her own.
She made her way down the bluff and crossed the small valley toward the mountain of rock. The sky was so dark, she couldn’t see much, but she picked her way along the side until she found a gap and stared up at the towering spires of stone.
Focus and control. Those were the words of wisdom Nasir had imparted to her. She had no idea if this was going to work, but it was now or never. On a deep breath, she closed her eyes and centered herself, then imagined standing on the ledge high above.
Air rushed past her face, and then her feet left the ground. She gasped but didn’t open her eyes, instead refocused on where she wanted to go. Seconds later, her feet touched down, and a thrill rushed through Claire when she realized she’d landed exactly where she’d wanted to be.
Okay, that was a trip. And something she could definitely get used to. Except…
A burst of flame caught her attention. She ducked behind a boulder and looked down into the crater below. This had to be some kind of ancient volcano. Rock rose up around in a perfect circle. Torches flickered all along the edge of the crater, and in the very center some kind of tall structure had been built in a U-shape. Directly below and in front of it, flames licked up from a gigantic pit dug out of the ground.
Her eyes widened as the flames grew higher, redder, angrier, if possible. Drums began to beat, and from an archway in the rock wall to her right, people—no, djinn—began to file out and form a circle around the flames and structure.
They were chanting. Ancient words in a language Claire couldn’t decipher. She watched when a guard hauled a thrashing male from the tunnel, then gasped when she realized it was Nasir. In the time it had taken her to get to this spot, Zoraida had called him back, just as he’d predicted she might do.
The guards hauled Nasir to a pole yards away from the fire and tied his arms above his head, then stepped aside when he was sufficiently bound. He yelled something at them Claire couldn’t make out, then spat on the ground at their feet. And as she watched, her anxiety amped. She thought of Kavin, back in the human realm with Mira and Tariq, probably going out of her mind. Of the kingdom of Gannah, which Nasir was in line to rule; about an entire race of people who didn’t know her but who would be doomed if she failed.
But the minute two guards hauled Ashur out of that tunnel, his hands chained behind his back, his hard body bare but for the thin black pants he was wearing, all thought slipped out of her mind.
Her pulse picked up speed. Her gaze shot to the structure high above the flames. To the cable that stretched from one side of the structure to the other, and the platform that could be raised or lowered right into the flames.
This wasn’t a ceremony. It was a death ritual. An execution. Djinn were said to be made of smokeless flame. They were going to burn him alive. Return him to that from whence he’d come.
Panic spread like wildfire through her body. She looked right and left, tried to figure out how she was going to stop this. Even with her powers and what Nasir had given her, she was only one. There were at least a hundred—probably more—djinn down there. All under Zoraida’s spell. Against one sorceress, maybe she could hold her own, but she didn’t stand a chance against an entire army.
A burst of crimson as red as blood erupted from the tunnel, and Claire’s attention jerked to the female walking toward Ashur, standing at the base of the steps of the mighty structure.
Zoraida.
Claire knew it was the sorceress, even though she couldn’t see her face. Power radiated from her small body. Power that—even though she did look frail as Nasir had predicted—was still strong enough to knock Claire and everyone in this place on their asses. And there was something else. Some dull light…
Claire gasped again. Covered her mouth so as not to give herself away.
Suddenly, everything made sense.
Zoraida stopped in front of Ashur. Said something Claire couldn’t hear. Then reached out to run her hand down Ashur’s cheek. Ashur jerked away from her touch and glared down at the sorceress. And though Claire couldn’t hear what he said in return, the way Zoraida stiffened told Claire loud and clear that she’d wanted his fear. Needed it to fuel her strength. But Ashur wasn’t afraid. If anything, he looked pissed. And determined. And ready for whatever was to come next.
Claire’s heart pounded as she watched Ashur from the safety of her boulder. Awe and admiration rushed through her. Not just because he was the epitome of strength in the last moments of his life, but because he—a djinni—had taught her something even those in the heavens couldn’t. That life wasn’t just about having fun and experiencing everything temptation had to offer. It was about finding the one thing you were willing to sacrifice everything for. The one person who made you want to be the person you were born to be.
“Take him,” Zoraida snapped, her enraged voice rising to Claire’s position. “I’m done with this djinni.”