Forsaken (The Djinn Wars Book 5) (22 page)

“Looking for a horse,” Qadim replied.

“Do you jest?”

“No. I fear horses are in short supply in Albuquerque, but I knew I had seen some when I was here last. Unfortunately, they appear to all be gone.”

“We have gathered them in,” Dani said. “Our stores of fuel are dwindling, and Zahrias thought it better to have our Chosen adjust to using a more sustainable means of transportation.”

“Wise of him,” Qadim remarked. He had not meant the words to be taken ironically, but he could still see Danilar tense. Well, they were not all on the best of terms.

“Why would you have need of a horse?” the other djinn asked. “For that city is yours, and you can travel in it far more easily using your own powers than having to go about on horseback.”

It was a reasonable enough question. It was also one that Qadim had no desire to answer. How could he admit that the woman he cared for had been stolen from under his very nose? No doubt Danilar — and Zahrias, his brother — would find it amusing to hear that Qadim, who had kidnapped Zahrias’ woman, had now had his own woman taken away.

“I must travel to a place I do not know,” he replied. “You know as well as anyone else the dangers of attempting to do so by our usual means.”

For a moment, Dani said nothing, only watched Qadim carefully, as if attempting to glean the truth from his expression. When he spoke at last, his words were not ones that Qadim wished to hear. “I think you must come and tell my brother what it is you are doing here. This is no place for you, Qadim al-Syan, and so we require an explanation.”

Damn. Qadim forced himself not to react, except to raise an eyebrow. For while he guessed that he would be able to best the younger djinn if it were to come to blows, he would also be forever invoking the enmity of Zahrias al-Harith, and indeed of all his people, if he did so. On the other hand, going to speak with Zahrias would cause an unconscionable delay. Who knew what Hasan was doing to Madison at this very moment?

“I do not think that is necessary,” Qadim said, choosing his words with care. “I have done no harm here. I have not ventured into the limits of the city your people have claimed for their own. Why should I have to come before your brother like a common criminal?”

“Because you are a criminal,” Danilar retorted. “Taking my brother’s woman — ”

“She was not his woman then.”

That comment seemed to stop Dani in his tracks. He paused, as if replaying the memories of those events in his mind, then shook his head. “Semantics. You are still a kidnapper, and only free now because you realized your assistance to your sister could hurt your own chances when it came to receiving your land grant from the elders. Do you deny any of that?”

“No.”

Once again Dani appeared flummoxed by Qadim’s reply. Most likely he had been expecting some form of protest. Then his dark brows drew together. In that moment he looked a little too much like his older brother, although in appearance they were not all that similar, except for their coloring. “Then I fear you have no choice but to explain yourself.”

“And are you going to drag me down to Santa Fe and force me to do so?” Despite the urgency of his current situation, Qadim couldn’t help being somewhat amused. While Danilar al-Harith had once been a warrior of some repute, he still would have some difficulty attempting to subdue someone of Qadim’s stature.

“No, because he summoned me here instead,” said Zahrias, appearing from nowhere to stand next to his brother. The leader of the Santa Fe djinn did not look pleased to have had his day interrupted; his arms were crossed and his brows were knitted in a frown that was an uncanny echo of the one his brother wore.

Damn again. Qadim had been able to share that same subvocal communication with his sister — that is, until her plotting nearly ruined them both. Luckily, she could not reach from the otherworld to touch his mind here, and so he had been blessedly free of her interruptions once she had been exiled to her palace on that unearthly plane. But he had forgotten that Dani might do the same thing to summon his brother to confront their trespasser.

“Well met, Zahrias al-Harith,” Qadim said politely. “Peace seems to agree with you. And how is Julia Innes?”

“Very well, although I doubt she would be pleased to hear that you are inquiring after her,” Zahrias replied. His frown showed no sign of disappearing. “What is it you want here?”

“As I told your brother, I was in need of a horse.”

“And there are none in Albuquerque?”

Of course there were. Not in the city center itself, but in the outlying areas were homes that had large lots, where there were barns and horses. He had made sure that the grass grew more thickly in those places, but left the horses alone. The djinn had destroyed mankind…but they had also made sure that the animals left behind would be well fed and happy. After all, they were innocents.

Without blinking, he said, “It was necessary for me to ride forth from Pojoaque.”

Eyes narrowing, Zahrias asked, “To go where? Taos has been forbidden us, and to the west is Los Alamos, where I do not think you would be given a very friendly reception. And to the north, I have heard, is Hasan al-Abyad, who I do not think will be very happy to see you.”

That much is true,
Qadim thought, even as Zahrias continued,

“He is certainly no friend of ours, and of no one else, it seems. So I must ask again — where would you be taking this horse of yours?”

Sometimes the truth was the only way out. And perhaps al-Harith would be sympathetic. Doubtful. However, Qadim could not think of a lie that the other djinn would believe. “To Hasan al-Abyad’s lands in Chama. For he has taken someone I care for, and I fear he means to do her harm. Since I have never been to Chama, nor even seen a picture of it, I can travel in no other fashion.”

The two brothers exchanged a glance. Perhaps they spoke to one another’s minds; Qadim had no way of knowing.

When Zahrias spoke again, his tone was dry. “So you have taken a Chosen? It seems your heart recovers quickly, Qadim.”

“She is not my Chosen,” he said quickly. “But she is human, and I think we all know Hasan’s history when it comes to his dealings with human beings.”

Another of those significant looks. But this time the al-Harith brothers appeared troubled, for they did know of Hasan’s predilections, and the trail of blood he had left behind him. And because they both had selected their own Chosen, their sympathies lay with the hapless humans, not those who had hunted them down.

Dani said, “Qadim, how do you even know she is alive? For Hasan — ”

“There was no evidence to show that she had been injured,” Qadim replied. His throat tightened as he remembered the scene he had found, the discarded bag, the sketchbook with its pages rippling in an uncaring breeze. “I also know of Hasan’s methods, and have seen his handiwork. She was alive when she was taken, which means he must have some other intention beyond simple mayhem. Else he would have killed her where she stood.”

Dani nodded, and Zahrias said, “This makes some sense. And I think we can help you.”

“So you will let me take a horse?”

“Better than that,” Zahrias said. “For I believe one of our Chosen comes from that part of the world, and so her djinn had to find her there. He can guide you to Chama, if not directly to wherever Hasan has taken up residence.”

Relief surged through Qadim as he thanked the other djinn. He had not expected assistance, only scorn — and he would have deserved it. Why Zahrias al-Harith had decided to grant him this measure of grace, Qadim did not know, but he would do his best to show that he was worthy of it.

Be safe, my love,
he thought then.
For I am coming to save you.

* * *

A
s Hasan had said
, there was an assortment of women’s clothing in the dresser of her room-slash-prison cell. Not too off in size, either; whoever had called this place home must have also been tall and slim. Anyway, Madison didn’t need a couture fit, just something to sleep in other than her jeans.

She changed quickly, one eye fixed on the door the entire time. No, Hasan hadn’t shown any evidence of having that kind of interest in her — thank God — but she couldn’t rule out the possibility that he might barge in here while she was changing, just to upset her, throw her off balance.

But she was able to get into the T-shirt and leggings without interruption, and folded her own clothes and put them on top of the dresser. By then it was full dark, but the electricity worked, just as the plumbing did, so at least she didn’t have to sit in here in total darkness.

Under the sink in the bathroom she found a toothbrush still in its packaging, so she brushed her teeth and used the face wash sitting on the countertop to clean her skin. All these actions felt so ordinary, so routine, and yet she knew there was absolutely nothing normal about her current situation.

Just what the hell are you up to, Hasan?
she asked herself then.
Is this some kind of feud with Qadim?
But that didn’t feel right. From the way Qadim had talked about the other djinn, it had almost seemed as if they were, well, not friends exactly, but at least on civil terms, even though Qadim clearly didn’t share Hasan’s views on human beings.

Padding quietly on the wooden floor in her bare feet, Madison went and listened at the door. Dead silence, except a cricket chirping somewhere in the hallway just outside, and a faint creak from overhead as the house settled. If Hasan was moving around anywhere in the house, she sure as hell couldn’t hear him. But then, from what she’d seen of it, the home was a large one. It made sense that she wouldn’t be able to hear anything.

The silence didn’t reassure her, though. If anything, it only made her more nervous. Since she didn’t know whether Hasan was listening to her, and the last thing she wanted him to hear was her pacing around the room, she went ahead and climbed into the bed. She’d already checked it for the ominous gray dust and hadn’t found any, so whoever had lived here, they hadn’t perished in this bed. In fact, the sheets were crisp and showed folds from being stored, indicating that they hadn’t even been slept on. Maybe this had been someone’s vacation house. It was out in the middle of nowhere, after all. In Madison’s mind, the home seemed a little big for a vacation getaway, but she hadn’t known any people with the means to build a second house, so her frame of reference was somewhat limited in that respect.

Well, Clay Michaels probably could have afforded it, but he’d put all his money into building a bomb shelter instead.

But even though the bed was comfortable enough, and Madison knew she should get some rest as insurance against an uncertain tomorrow, she couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was only that she knew it was far too early for her to be in bed — barely seven-thirty. Or maybe it was simply that every creak, every scratch made her eyes fly open, certain that Hasan was just about to fling open the door and descend upon her.

Or worse, blink his way in. Djinn really didn’t need to bother with doors.

For the fifteenth time, she rolled over and shut her eyes, praying that she’d finally found the one position that would allow her to fall asleep. The floor creaked again, and she uttered a mental curse as her eyes popped open for the umpteenth time.

Only to see Hasan staring down at her, his teeth gleaming white in the darkness. Her mouth opened — to scream, to gasp — but he was far too quick. In the next instant, he was pulling her from the bed, arms like iron bands around her chest. And then he blinked her away into the dark.

G
oing
to Santa Fe felt like traveling in the wrong direction; however, Qadim couldn’t refuse Zahrias’ offer. He might be delaying slightly by going to that djinn stronghold for help, true. But that assistance would save him many hours on the road, hours during which anything might be happening to Madison.

The home Zahrias had taken for his own was large and luxurious. Qadim hadn’t really expected anything else, for Zahrias was the leader of the colony here, and should have a house that befitted his station.

He also should have expected to encounter Julia Innes there, and yet it was still a shock to see her, to come around a corner and have her standing there, beautiful as ever, warm blonde hair falling nearly to her waist. She wore a dress in a deep blue that set off her eyes, and silver jewelry around her throat and wrists. Truly, she was stunning, but…

…but he could look on her and feel nothing, because his heart was given elsewhere. She was very lovely, but she didn’t have Madison’s amused mouth, or her luxuriant curls, or…anything else. Qadim could look at Julia and be glad for her happiness, and know that it did not take anything away from him.

She stepped forward as soon as Zahrias and Qadim entered the living room. “I am so sorry, Qadim,” she said. Sincerity rang in her voice, and he realized that she truly was sorry for him, despite everything he’d done to her. “Zahrias told me something — ”

“Only a little, for Qadim has not told me the whole story,” Zahrias cut in, his tone mildly reproving.

“I do not have time for the whole story,” Qadim replied. “But know that Madison managed to survive on her own for more than a year, and that when we finally met, it took some convincing to make her see that I meant her no harm. She is resourceful, and I am sure she is doing whatever she must to survive while in Hasan al-Abyad’s hands. But I must go to her as soon as I can.”

“I understand,” Julia said. “And Sheri and Ahmar will be here at any moment. Why don’t you sit down? There’s a pitcher of iced water.”

Qadim did sit on one of the chairs, mostly because he could tell that he made Julia nervous, looming over her. She was doing her best to be polite, but she would never forget what had passed between them, how he had attempted to use the djinn glamour on her, to claim her as his. Nor should she forget. He was embarrassed now for what he had done, but he could not change the past.

And he feared he would not be able to change the future, if he didn’t go to Madison soon.

Zahrias remained standing, as did Julia. Perhaps that was only because they wanted to go answer the door as soon as this Ahmar and his Chosen appeared, or perhaps it was because, while they were willing to help, they did not feel comfortable sitting down with him as equals.

“So you are in Albuquerque now?” Julia inquired, clearly attempting to fill the awkward silence that had just fallen.

“Yes.”

“That’s my hometown.”

“I fear you would not recognize it,” Qadim told her. “I have been doing some…redecorating, as Madison put it.”

Julia’s elegant eyebrows lifted. “Redecorating?”

“I do not find most human architecture appealing. So…I am removing it.”

Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the doorbell. At once she made her excuses and went to answer it. A human custom, but one the djinn followed as well. It was necessary to adhere to such niceties when one had the ability to appear or disappear in a house on a whim.

A moment later, she returned with a tall brown-haired djinn Qadim had never seen before, as well as a lovely young woman with long dark hair and striking blue eyes. “Qadim, this is Ahmar al-Suth and his Chosen, Sheri Hennessey.”

Ahmar only nodded, but Sheri essayed a quick smile and said, “Hi, Qadim. Zahrias and Julia told me that you’re looking for someone in the Chama area.”

“Yes,” he replied. “You are from there, correct?”

“Right. My parents were the caretakers on a big ranch up there — the owners actually lived in Denver and only came down for the summer.” She waved a hand, as if realizing that information wasn’t really necessary for the task at hand. “Anyway, I know Chama real well, and Ahmar knows it, too, since that’s where he came to me.” A pause as she glanced up at the djinn standing next to her. Something in the warm glow in her eyes and the curve of her mouth seemed to indicate that she’d been very happy to see him, and still was.

Qadim couldn’t help thinking of his first encounter with Madison, how she’d bolted as if all the demons of hell were after her. He supposed that, in her mind, they really had been. She’d had no reason to believe he was going to do anything except kill her on the spot.

Whereas this Ahmar had appeared to his woman as a savior.

“Yes, I know it,” Ahmar said. His voice was deep and somewhat rough, and something in its tone seemed to indicate that he wasn’t overly pleased to be given this mission. Well, if he was loyal to Zahrias, then he might be puzzled by his leader’s willingness to help someone who had kidnapped him and handed him over to his insane sister.

“Good,” Qadim said, beginning to rise from his seat. “Then let us go.”

“Not so quickly,” Zahrias cut in. “I understand your eagerness, Qadim, but to go charging in without a plan is utter foolishness. Hasan al-Abyad is a hasty sort. If you startle him, he may do something that we will all regret.”

Those words made a current of ice rush through Qadim’s veins. Yes, he knew that about Hasan. The man was quick to anger, quick to action. If he caught wind of Madison’s rescuers before they were able to gain the upper hand, things might go very badly indeed.

Although it was almost physically painful to force himself back into his chair, Qadim did as Zahrias had instructed and sat down, then waited to hear what the other djinn had to say. However, Ahmar didn’t speak, but nodded toward Sheri, as if deferring to her local area knowledge.

“Right,” she said. “Well, Chama itself is teeny — basically a wide spot in the road — but there are a lot of big properties around there, ranches, vacation homes, all that kind of stuff. So it’s hard to say where this Hasan person could be living, because he’d have a decent number of places to choose from. But if I had to guess — ”

“Please guess,” Qadim told her. “Because your guess is certainly going to be better than any of ours.”

Sheri looked somewhat flustered by the interruption, but then she lifted her shoulders and plowed ahead. “I’m just wondering if he isn’t at the place where my parents worked.”

“What makes you say that?” Julia asked, clearly intrigued.

“Well, it’s a nice house, probably one of the nicest in the area.” Her mouth quirked, and she added, “No offense to you djinn, but I haven’t seen any of you taking up residence in someone’s double-wide. You all seem to gravitate toward the million-dollar mansions.”

Ahmar couldn’t help smiling slightly at that comment, although he didn’t say anything. And neither Zahrias nor Qadim bothered to protest, either. Qadim wondered what Sheri would think about his occupation of the penthouse suite at the Hotel Andaluz.

“So yeah, it’s a big house, on a big piece of land, and the property backs up to the Chama River on one side, so it’s really pretty. If Hasan was given that area for his own, he could do a lot worse.”

“How protected is it?” Qadim asked. “That is, is it the sort of place with many trees around it?”

Sheri frowned. “Not really. I mean, there are trees on the river side of the property, so the view to the west is a little blocked. But on the other three sides it’s pretty open. You can see all the way to Grouse Mesa from two of the guest bedrooms upstairs.”

Which meant they would have to materialize on the river side of the property, since coming in from any other direction would be far too visible. Unless they could appear in the house itself.

He asked that very question, but Ahmar shook his head. “No, Sheri did not actually live at the ranch, but only worked there with her parents. Their own house — where I came to retrieve her — was more modest, and some distance away.”

“I showed him the property before we left to go to Taos,” she added. “But I didn’t take him inside. I think I was a little shell-shocked right then.” She stopped there, as if she’d intended to say more and then decided against it. Probably she knew she didn’t need to elaborate on the feelings of fear and uncertainty that had enveloped the Heat’s survivors, the unanswerable question as to why they were still alive when so many countless others were dead. After that awkward pause, she went on, “For some reason, it didn’t feel respectful to me to go in the house. I wanted to say goodbye to the river, though, and so that’s where we went.”

“Which means I can take you directly there,” Ahmar said. “It should be close enough, since this Hasan can have no idea that anyone still alive knows of the property and its location.”

No, it was rare luck that any one of Zahrias’ people had come from the Chama area at all. The djinn had gathered their Chosen from all over the state, since its population was so small, but even so, Qadim didn’t want to calculate the chances of someone from Chama actually surviving the Heat. That didn’t matter now, though. What mattered was that Sheri and her djinn lover were here and could help him to get to Madison.

Because she was the most important thing now. Qadim didn’t want to tell himself that he would die for her; he had never believed in that kind of sacrifice, thought it foolish and wasteful.

No, he wanted to live for her.

* * *

B
ack in the living room
. Madison had been terrified that Hasan was going to take her outside and feed her into the wood chipper or whatever other torment his twisted brain might have devised, but that didn’t seem to be his immediate plan.

Instead, he sat her down on the chair where he’d first had her tied up. Something seemed to have agitated him, although she couldn’t begin to guess what. He’d tied her arms behind the chair, even more tightly than the first time. She couldn’t move at all — not that she really wanted to. With the way he was pacing back and forth and muttering to himself, she thought it was far wiser to stay as still as possible so as not to set him off.

Could djinn go insane? Her only real knowledge of the race came from her research in Clay Michaels’ databases and then her interactions with Qadim, and he certainly seemed level-headed enough. Well, level-headed for someone who wanted to raze Albuquerque to the ground and create a garden in its place. But she’d never gotten the impression that he wasn’t playing with all the dots on the dice — he was funny and kind and loving and occasionally wicked.

In a good way, though.

She couldn’t say the same for Hasan. Her fingertips were starting to tingle, a sign that the ropes which bound her had begun to cut off her circulation. But she didn’t wiggle her fingers, because she was afraid he might notice even that small a movement. She didn’t do anything except sit there and pray that whatever had set off Hasan this time, it would fade away and he’d turn back into the faintly sinister but at least manageable person he’d been a few hours earlier.

“How do you do it?” he said then, turning back on her so quickly that she couldn’t help but let out a quick gasp, one she sucked back in and hoped he didn’t hear.

The last thing she wanted was to antagonize him, but she really didn’t know what in the world he was talking about. “Do what?” she asked cautiously.

“What is it about you humans that draws them in, like flies to honey? Your race is a feeble one, without powers, without long life, without anything of any note to recommend it. Your women are no more beautiful than ours. So what is it?”

Qadim had told her how the djinn would come to humans sometimes, that the myths of the succubus and the incubus had arisen from those liaisons. The djinn glamour at work, but other than that, she hadn’t seen anything so strange about there being an odd kind of sexual attraction between the two races. They looked basically the same. Yes, the djinn on average were more attractive than most humans. But looks weren’t everything.

“I don’t know,” she replied. It was the only answer she could give, but clearly Hasan wasn’t pleased by it. He frowned, dark brows drawing together over his bright blue eyes, and his mouth tightened.

“You’ll have to do better than that, human.”

Madison’s heart rate began to speed up, although she told herself that this was no time to lose her cool. Hasan was so clearly balanced right on the edge, it wouldn’t take much to push him over. The problem was that she had absolutely no idea what she should say to make him calm down. “It’s the truth. I really don’t know. I’d never met a djinn before I met Qadim. He…wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“Yes, my friend Qadim al-Syan always was weak when it came to women. Oh, I will admit that they have their uses, but he is far too soft-hearted.” Hasan’s eyes narrowed, as if he’d just had a sudden thought. “Perhaps it is only that he was not afforded much choice, after the Council exiled him to that wasteland he must now call home. So when a human crossed his path, he decided to take her for his own, since no djinn woman would have him.”