She was so relieved that Natalie was just a friend she wanted to hug him, but his earlier words still stung. “You didn’t report me? Why? How would they react?”
“Right now?” He rubbed his forehead wearily with his hand. “About as bloody badly as you could imagine.”
“Are you sure? Because lately I can imagine a lot.” He was scaring her. “I haven’t broken any laws or anything. Not in England, at least. Why would they have a problem with me?”
“You don’t understand and I haven’t got the time to explain it. Someone will sniff us out if we don’t get you out of here.” He listened at the door for a moment, unlocked it and reached back for her hand.
She didn’t take it. “I think I prefer to get out under my own steam, thank you.”
He sighed. “Apologizing yet again would be a waste of time, I take it?”
“A complete waste.”
Brandon nodded in understanding. “But you’ll let me take you home. And you’ll be very careful with the company you keep in town. I’m not the only Enforcer in London. I won’t promise the others will be as kind. We have no love for anyone choosing to associate with Jinn or Shiners.”
Good to know. “Just take me home.”
Chapter Seven
“I will kill him,” Ram seethed. He was still pacing Penn’s cozy flat like a tiger in a cage when she came out of the shower. Still restless. Raging. “Those dogs have gone too far this time. Kidnapping a Fireborne. Endangering Aziza by concealing her from us. But there is something that troubles me more.”
Aziza shook her head in bemusement while she rubbed her hair vigorously with one of Penn’s towels. “You’re like ten Red Bulls and a shot of steroids gone right now, Ram. What could
possibly
trouble you more?”
“His people have always had the ability to restrain us from using our powers to escape their justice. It is known. What he did yesterday? Disappearing with you in a puff of smoke without warning? I have never seen this. They have never used this ability before. As soon as you tell me what you saw, how it was done…” Ram pointed to Shev, “…you must return to Qaf and share it with our people. They will want to know.”
Aziza sighed. She was sure they’d want to know. If Brandon had been responsible for what happened. “Before you two go off the rails completely we should talk.”
“Finally,” Shev murmured from her seat on the floor, eyeing Aziza with the smallest trace of censure in her eyes. The reason was obvious. When Aziza had returned—after hugging Greg within an inch of his life—she hadn’t exactly been in a sharing mood. She’d demanded time alone to rest and then hidden in her room. She’d officially had too much. Felt too much. She needed a break.
They’d given her the evening, mostly because Greg had ensured, through distraction, the temptation of his notebooks and threats of brute force, that she wasn’t inundated with questions through the door. They hadn’t been happy about it, however, and this morning Ram was obviously still revved up and ready for a fight.
She wished she could say the delay had been worth it—that she’d slept well—but her dreams had been more than disturbing. Again. At least she remembered the things she’d seen this time… Death was following her again. Her family’s curse. It had a form she couldn’t make out, a streak of sadism that she couldn’t ignore.
She’d walked along a trail of sand, glittering with jewels and the tops of ancient ruins peeking out from the dunes. And bodies. Her oldest brother, Tarik, a knife in his hand and his lips curled in a snarl, lay dead at her feet, one half of his face burned away. The family home in Bahrain had been destroyed by a fire. An accident. Why had he been holding a knife?
A few feet away, Adam, holding a camera instead of a weapon in his lifeless hand, was dead as well. She retched at the sight of him, falling to her knees. His eyes were gone. Shards of glass peppered his body, the largest one buried deep in his heart.
She heard her name on the wind and turned, seeing Brandon and Ram on a large dune in the distance. They were circling each other. Ready to battle. Over her. She tried to call to them, to stop them, but they couldn’t hear her. She looked away and saw Greg running toward her from the opposite direction. There was terror on his face and he reached out his hand, as if rushing to her rescue.
Aziza was still on her knees when the sand shifted, swirling beneath her and beginning to pull her down. She wasn’t sure she wanted to fight. She would join them. Her brothers. She would let Death take her before someone else she loved was lost.
A strong hand grabbed her arm and pulled her from the desert’s clinging grasp. Her brother Joseph. She looked up into his familiar face, so much like hers, and her heart almost burst with joy. He was alive. She wasn’t alone. He shook his head as if he’d heard her thoughts and told her she was wrong. He had gone somewhere she couldn’t follow. She was very much alone.
Accept what you are
, he demanded.
The balance must be restored.
She didn’t understand and he pointed to the ground in front of them. The sand had changed. Now it was black and glinting in the sun like obsidian. And in the center was the mark from her palm. The writing.
There will be more death unless you accept all that you are.
His voice began to fade as the howl of the wind picked up.
The truth is concealed in the sand. But what it conceals it can reveal.
He disappeared and she jumped to her feet to search for him. She ran through what had become a blinding sandstorm, falling over a body with a cry of surprise.
Greg’s body. He was dead, his open eyes sightless. A hand grabbed her arm again, but when she looked up it wasn’t her brother’s. It was the doppelganger from the garden she’d seen before Ram had appeared. The Aziza covered in magical marks with wisdom in her eyes.
This time she wasn’t smiling.
Aziza had been thankful to wake up. Even if it meant dealing with suspicious, tantrum-throwing Jinn. She shook off the eerie dream and plastered a bored, relaxed expression on her face. “Brandon thinks
you’re
the criminal, Ram. Please, calm down before you strain something. He didn’t know exactly what I was and he just wanted some answers. Simple as that. Apparently, I
smell
like a little bit of everything.”
She wasn’t going to tell him what
she’d
wanted before they were interrupted, and her instinctive decision to take the offensive worked. Ram looked away almost guiltily at her words. “Something I can see you knew already. Anyway, they don’t have any new abilities that you need to report. At least, not that I’m aware of.”
She wrapped the towel around her neck and waved her hand at him, wiggling her fingers. “
This
was the power that made us disappear. It was me. Your earring doesn’t work as well as we thought, Ram. I saw another strange brand on my hand and—
poof
—the world DVR was paused for twenty minutes. Everyone, including you, just stopped.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Greg huffed from the kitchen. He’d been the one to go shopping this morning, coming back with eggs and ham. The only meal he knew how to cook. “I know what that is.”
“You do?” She followed him when he turned off the stove and strode over to the small pile of notebooks on the couch.
“I did,” he mumbled. He leafed through a couple of pages before stopping, a fascinated expression on his face. “Was there an hourglass? On your palm, did it look like an hourglass?”
“Yes. I just said
stop
and it appeared. And it moved, Greg. I mean the sand in the hourglass was actually counting down.” She hadn’t let herself think about how much that had scared her. Maybe that was why she’d been so provocative with her kidnapper. She’d needed a distraction.
If that’s what you need to tell yourself
, her inner voice mocked.
Shev, who’d been lying on the floor reading the manuscript Penn had been editing before she left, peered over the pages. “Sounds like Mayet’s Witness.”
“Exactly.” Greg smiled at her. Pleased. “That’s what I wrote down.”
That word again.
Mayet.
“What does it mean, Greg?”
He read his notes out loud. “To find the truth a Fireborne can call Mayet’s Witness. When time is stopped, with no fear of reprisal, the touched can speak freely. Giving testimony in the silence.” He shook his head. “I can’t read the rest of my handwriting here, but I think that is the general gist.”
She made a face. “And that makes sense to who exactly?”
“How do you know about that, Shev?” Ram’s question was polite but still coated in frustration.
Shev smirked. “I actually paid attention to our tutors, darling. You learn so much that way.” She studied Aziza. “The ability you used yesterday
was
considered legend. An exaggeration that comes with the retelling of a story. A much better story than the one I’m currently reading.” She wrinkled her nose and set the manuscript down.
“The legend spoke of whole worlds stopping at the Fireborne’s touch. But it’s real, isn’t it? Amazing. To have that kind of power must be quite a rush. Think about what you could do with it.”
“No thank you.” Aziza clenched her hands together, as if she could contain what had happened. “I’d rather not have an Etch A Sketch palm with the ability to inflict random damage on innocent people or control them against their will.”
Shev sat up and leaned forward, her amethyst eyes intense. “You don’t hurt the innocent, dear. You’re
Fireborne
. And Ram’s earring doesn’t stop the power from flowing through you; it just helps you with control. You shouldn’t fight what you can do. You should revel in it. By the soul of our mother I know
I
would.”
Greg frowned. “You have power of your own, Shev. All Jinn have gifts, right? I wrote that down somewhere. Different gifts that depend on their natural proclivities. Shifting and flight, invisibility, obviously.”
Shev snorted. “Of course we do, you sexy human. And she might be able to do some of those things as well. She does have some Jinn blood after all. But we’ll never match her skill. We aren’t meant to. Her small portion of sand from the Zhaman—the keeper—tempers it, but even that amount will make her more powerful than all her guard dogs put together, once she figures out how to use it properly. That I can tell you without breaking any laws. Okay, maybe I’m bending one or two.”
Ram stared at his partner as if she’d sprouted a new head, and she blew him a kiss. “You’re welcome.”
Greg’s smile was bemused. Shev noticed. “What?”
“The way you talk.” He shrugged. “I mean, you’re Jinn, right? An entirely different species. But you sound like…”
“Like you? Of course we do.” Shev sighed as if speaking to a child. “It’s similar to shifting and it’s an ability I know the Niyr envy. Wherever we go, we just…blend. It makes life so much simpler. We can travel through your world without drawing too much attention that way.”
“Shev? I hate to break it to you, but you don’t blend. And if your goal was to
not
draw attention, you’re all failing miserably.” Aziza sat down on the couch and pulled Greg down beside her, ignoring the others to lean her damp head on his chest. She needed to be close to him now. Losing him in her dream had upset her more than she was willing to admit.
“How are you holding up?” she whispered.
“I’ll live,” he whispered back, sliding his arm over her shoulder. “But what about you? I was worried, but last night you didn’t seem like you were in the mood to talk. Was I wrong? Do I need to beat someone up? Did your giant turn into a big dud?”
“Definitely a dud, but you weren’t wrong.” Her tone was adamant, but the emotion behind it was forced. For some reason she couldn’t keep ahold of her anger when it came to Brandon. She kept wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt. “What am I, Greg? And don’t just say Fireborne again or I’ll punch you.”
His chest rose with the deep breath he took. “I’ve been looking over these scribblings, trying to make sense of it. I hate that so much of it is slipping away. Now I think I know what it feels like to be truly insane.” He leaned back and pulled her closer.
“From what I’ve gathered, your father’s line was created a really goddamned long time ago with elements from Niyr, humans and Jinn. That lethal combo makes you cooler than the average Jane from birth, but you aren’t considered
Fireborne
until you’ve accepted your oath with sand and blood. I also know that most of the latent abilities for a Fireborne have to do with justice and balance…” he paused, “…or Armageddon. I’m still sorting it all out. But it seemed clear that no one can receive the gift unless there is a need for it. A ‘break glass in case of emergency’ kind of need.”
Great. So Brandon had been right about her scent. “Do I get to know what the emergency is?”
His voice was subdued. “It didn’t say. I imagine it’s your basic ‘save the human race’ kind of emergency.”
Aziza chuckled. “Right. Because we all know what a people person I am. A real giver.”
Greg leaned his cheek on the top of her head. “You have your moments.”
Ram came over to stand beside the couch. “Aziza, I hate to break up this fascinating exchange, but I need you to tell me everything you said to him. Everything he asked you.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Is the big bad Jinn afraid of the magic police? Seriously though, do your people get into trouble a lot? Because he
really
didn’t like you.”
Greg chuckled at Ram’s glare. “I know for a fact they
always
get into trouble. The Niyr believe that Ram’s people were created simply to give us all grief. They don’t—”
Ram swooped down until his face was inches away from Greg’s, his expression terrifying. “Do not speak of what you don’t understand, boy. Te gave you information, but obviously not all of it. He didn’t show you that the Niyr are the true danger. Arrogant villains who crave only control. Who must dominate every world within their grasp. Every plane of existence. They are a pestilence who would destroy us all if they could. So I don’t care to hear what
they
believe.”