Release the Djinni Page 8

  To think I spent decades hiding from love and pain, and now…Her energy wove protectively around Farhoud. Now, I’ll suffer anything to save him. Not simply because his death would hurt Hugh, but because the boy is an innocent and I care.

  Lines of darkness wove through the maze. Niki traced them, seeing how Malih had used them to lock in the dark magic when it would have danced on to the next mountaintop. Its power for life and death was trapped here, coiled around Farhoud.

  “You can’t have him.” She gathered her own power and struck at the darkness, aiming to open a new path for the earth magic, just enough to ease Farhoud out of its bonds.

  A line of dark magic shattered, splintering to strike her seven times. Grief, terror, despair, hate, violence, fear and revenge. She felt them all, and let them go.

  The earth magic raced through the minor gap and Niki let it carry her with it, bringing Farhoud with her. Easing him out in the narrowest of escapes.

  She brushed away the dark tendrils clinging to the boy and then it was like the mandala, a case of finding her way back through the labyrinth—and this time she had Hugh’s strong presence as a lodestone.

  His spirit was a flame of steel blue justice. She flew to him and they were home. Safe. She opened her eyes and hugged Farhoud.

  Hugh hugged them both.

  “What have you done?” Malih screamed. “The fire.”

  Flames formed the shape of a phoenix. It fanned its wings, standing as high as a rearing horse.

  “It’s your spell.” Niki put an arm around Hugh, unabashedly leaning on him. “It’s demanding completion.”

  “But you’ve taken the boy out of it,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “You can’t. The fire must be fed.” The proud certainty bled out of Malih’s voice. She sounded bewildered, panic stirring. “It won’t go out till it takes a life.”

  “You started it,” Hugh answered.

  She pressed her hands to her mouth, staring at him. Even without wings, he was an avenging angel, protecting the woman and child in his embrace.

  “A life.” Amin looked at Hugh, Niki and Farhoud, then at Malih. He put his hands on his knees and stood, an old man. “There must be an ending. Promise me that, Malih.”

  She sobbed.

  “Two children. A woman,” Hugh said.

  “A woman?” Amin asked.

  “A maid at the hotel.”

  Malih stared into the fire. “I killed them. To be young. And why?” She laughed, ugly and painful. “To entice men. Men. To sell my body again. To use them for revenge. I’m a fool.” She looked at Hugh, seeming to draw strength and truth from his level gaze. “A murderer. But not a destroyer of my only friend, Amin.”

  She stepped into the flames.

  “Malih!”

  The fire roared, so intensely golden that it blinded everyone. And then, within one blink and another, it died without trace. There were no bones, no ash, not a touch of black on the ground.

  Only Malih was gone.

  Amin leaned on his walking stick, shoulders heaving with breaths as painful as sobs.

  Niki hid Farhoud against her, glad that in his tears he hadn’t seen Malih die. She sent earth magic over him, softening the memories of terror and this night, and healing his lame leg. She rocked him and crooned, letting her own grief find release in comforting the boy. Malih was what she could have become: a person so broken she couldn’t accept love.

  Hugh’s arm tightened around her shoulders.

  She looked up and saw the grief in his eyes. She stretched up and kissed his cheek. “Time to go home.”

  Farhoud leaned against her, heavy with sleep.

  “Yes.” Hugh’s energy stroked her gently, answering her kiss and affirming the bond of trust and care between them.

  She wanted to surrender to the promise of it and share the healing tenderness of passion. Around her, the wild earth magic leapt on to the next mountain top.

  “Amin?”

  The man wiped his eyes and nodded.

  Hugh translocated them from the desolate mountain to Isfahan.

  “Happiness! Happy New Year! Peace to you and good fortune!” The bazaar pulsed with people singing, laughing and celebrating Chahar-Shanbe Souri. A man shouted poetry, drunk on words and visions.

  “Bed-time.” Niki smoothed Farhoud’s hair. She whisked him into his room and put him to bed with a touch of magic to ensure his sleep.

  On the street, Amin turned to Hugh. Despite his ravaged face, there was a sure dignity about him. He gripped his walking stick tight enough to turn his knuckles white. “I will look after Farhoud. His father neglects him. That is how Malih—” He broke off. “I will look after the boy.”

  Hugh nodded. Responsibility for Farhoud would give the old man purpose. The boy would tie him to life and in time, return him to hope. “And if Farhoud asks for explanations?”

  “He is young enough to believe in miracles and angels. And I am old enough to do the same.” Amin held out his hand. “Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry you lost your friend.” A huge thankfulness swelled in him that Niki had chosen life and opened herself to the dangers and joy of loving.

  Amin smiled. “I think I found her—just at the last. Malih never lacked courage.” He walked away, back to his shop.

  Niki reappeared and put her arm around Hugh’s waist. “Farhoud’s asleep.”

  “Amin will look after him.”

  “Good.” She rested her head against his shoulder. “Take me home, Hugh.”

  Chapter Nine

  The Oxford study, with night pressing in at the windows, was an oasis of light and comfort. There were no loud celebrations, only a steady rain. Niki put up a hand to draw the curtains and Hugh moved behind her, holding her close.

  The glass showed their reflection. She looked fragile against his strength, but he knew her power now. He’d never underestimate her courage and generosity. Her Madonna beauty, so remote on first sight, hid passion.

  He ran his hand up her rib cage, enjoying her response, the slight, sensuous arch of her body. It told him she shared his need for union.

  But she was still thinking. “In Amin’s shop, when we first met Malih, she didn’t smell of dark magic. She probably bathed in saltwater, then fresh, and then in myrrh-scented water before adding a heavy, sensuous layer of Parisian perfume. She was used to hiding her real self and showing the world what it wanted to see. I could have been like that.”

  “You’d never hurt anyone.”

  “No, I just retreated.”

  “Are you going to retreat now?”

  “No.” She turned in his arms, reaching up to bring his head down to hers for a slow, sweet kiss. “Thank you for trusting me on the mountain. You stopped and let me untangle Farhoud from the earth magic. I know how hard it was for you, a guardian.”

  “The hardest part was when I felt your pain. I nearly pulled you both out and left the consequences for later.” He caressed the length of her spine. “You healed him.”

  She kissed the corner of his mouth. “Why not? I’m a djinni. I don’t have to play by angelic rules of non-interference.”

  “You mean, you can meddle.” Humor and anticipation lightened his mood.

  “Jealous?”

  “Intrigued.”

  “Good answer.” She smiled.

  “All true. You fascinate me, honey.” And bluntly, so she could be sure. “I want you.”

  “It’s mutual.” She nestled into him. “My breasts are tight, aching for your mouth.”

  Faint shock at her bold demand morphed into delight. His djinni was ready to play.

  “Show me.” He cupped her bottom, holding her against him so she’d feel the strength of his growing arousal.

  The tantalizing woman could have vanished her shirt and bra with a touch of magic. Instead she unbuttoned her shirt slowly and shrugged it off. She glanced down at herself.

  “See.” She touched a nipple where it pressed against the white silk of her bra
, the flushed pink showing through.

  “Beautiful.”

  Niki smiled, reassured she hadn’t shocked him with her assumed boldness. She wanted him to know this was for both of them. He didn’t have to be the protector. This was about letting go and simply being together.

  “May I?” He took off her bra and studied her breasts with blatant sexual approval.

  She actually trembled, just from a look.

  And then he touched them.

  She gasped at the sensation. His hands at her waist had lifted her in one movement and he was sucking her left breast, strongly, as if they were established lovers. She wrapped her legs around him and fisted his hair.

  He shifted attention to her neglected breast, licking a tight circle before sucking deeply.

  “Please…I can’t…I need…” She was incoherent with pleasure.

  “A bed.” He readjusted his hold so he cradled her, then carried her to the bedroom. “We need a bed.”

  He laid her down gently on sun-dried linen that smelled of lavender and stepped back to strip. The clothes vanished with a pulse of magic and he stood naked and aroused.

  “Mmm.” Her remaining clothes felt too constricting and she vanished them, watching desire flare in his eyes and pound through his body.

  He swallowed. “Do you know how you look, all deliciously sprawled, waiting for your lover? For me.”

  “How do I look?” She couldn’t feel embarrassed, not when he wore his arousal so proudly.

  “Like a feast of passion and pleasure.”

  “Then come and taste me,” she whispered.

  He stretched out beside her and she would have turned toward him, but his hand on her shoulder gently pressed her down. He pushed his thigh between hers and kissed her.

  She welcomed him eagerly, greedily, circling his shoulders and holding on as their kiss grew hotter. She blushed when he broke it and she realized she was flexing her hips against him, hot and wet against his thigh.

  “Don’t stop.” He kissed a path down her throat, his hand shaping her breasts. “You feel so good.”

  “I—oh.” She arched instinctively as he pinched a nipple.

  “I’m going to slide into you, so deep and right.” He widened her thighs and settled between them, but held back. “But first…”

  His fingers were torment and promise, clever against her slick flesh, and she found her whole world centering on his expression of stark desire and the climax tightening through her body.

  “I want you,” she said, refusing to surrender and claim pleasure without him. “I need you.”

  She screamed as he thrust home and her climax shattered her. When she opened dazed eyes, she found him watching her.

  “You have me.” Masculine satisfaction. He was hard and full inside her. He began to move.

  Hunger rose fast, as if she hadn’t just peaked. “Everything. All of you.” She caught his rhythm and strained with him, demanding he take her harder and faster, passionately.

  “Like loving a star storm, a wild woman. Greedy. Generous. Perfect.”

  Their love words and sexual praise faltered as the loving became all-consuming. On the edge of desperation, she felt herself shatter again and heard Hugh’s shout of agonized completion.

  Even angel loving hadn’t felt like this; an intimacy of incredible power and surrender.

  He rolled so she lay sprawled over him, his hand relaxed but possessive on her hip. His free hand caressed her idly.

  She hummed her approval, kissing his shoulder. It was like floating in a sea of pleasure.

  “Hey.” His muscles tightened a moment.

  “Hmm?”

  He hitched them higher up the pillows and looked around.

  Niki followed his gaze. “Oh. My power must have flared out.”

  The candles she kept scattered around the bedroom were all alight, scenting the air with heady fragrances and an underlying note of beeswax. Their flames danced, revealing the vibrant colors of tapestry wall hangings, cushions and carved wooden furniture. Brocade curtains framed windows that reflected the warm scene.

  “You’re a secret hedonist.” Hugh sounded delighted. “Chocolates on the bedside table. Books. Do you play the guitar?” It sat on a low chair in a corner of the room.

  “I had a room like this in the bottle. I spent a lot of time in it. Hence the large bed. Not sexual orgies.” She answered his amused expression. “I play the guitar, sing, listen to music, read, do puzzles.”

  “And I called this place an ivory tower? It’s an explosion of color and passion.”

  “You were partly right. I tried to deny that side of me, hiding it away—denying it, even to myself.”

  “Not now.” He stretched luxuriously beneath her.

  The ripple of muscles drew a responsive shiver. “I’ll always be a scholar, but now I know I have the courage to be more than that, to care.”

  “So what are your plans for the future?” He tipped her gently off him so he could play with her breasts.

  “More of this.” She smiled. “I’ll continue my studies into the science of dark energy, but I’ll also keep an eye on Farhoud and Amin. He loved Malih. He’d have died for her. He deserves looking after.”

  “You plan to meddle.”

  She couldn’t judge by his tone whether he approved or disapproved. “I’ll respect their free will, but I will be involved in their lives.”

  “Good.” He kissed a pert nipple.

  “And I imagine I’ll become interested in some of your charges as you talk about them.”

  He glanced at her face. “I hope so.”

  It was a promise between them of a shared future.

  Suddenly the corner of his mouth quirked. “The Guardian Council won’t know what to make of you.”

  “They’ll learn,” she said confidently.

  He fell back against the pillows, laughing. “Watch out world!”

  “Watch out, angel.” She attacked him with kisses and tickles till he wrestled her under him and laughter turned into loving.

  Want More?

  Discover the Collegium series, today. Paranormal romance and adventure with shifters, demons, dragons and more! Each stand-alone novel is free to read in Kindle Unlimited.

  Demon Hunter

  Djinn Justice

  Dragon Knight

  Doctor Wolf

  Plague Cult

  Hollywood Demon

  Alchemy Shift

  Go Old School in 2017

  Phoenix Blood

  Fantastical Island

  Storm Road (out April 2017)

  Catch up with Jenny Schwartz on her Facebook page, Twitter @Jenny_Schwartz, or at her website.