Burning Hearts Page 19

Something was off. His voice was unnervingly close to her ear. She couldn’t see him out of the corner of her eye, but assumed that he was there, ready to emerge. Anticipating his arrival, she quickly struck with her dagger, but the blade only pierced empty air. She rotated in a 360 degree turn, waiting for him to appear, but he stayed annoyingly hidden.

  Her frustration came through as she fumed, “Why are you playing with me? You’re the one who wanted me to come here. Where’s your sister by the way? I’d really like to meet her.”

  Jenna could hear his smile. “She’s occupied with our other guest.”

  “Guest?” She shook her head in disbelief. “No, not Mal—”

  “Yes!” He sounded giddy with delight. “Precisely him. Fatima has been so eager to see her lover again. He was doing a very good job of resisting her, but that was until you knocked him unconscious.” He chuckled. “When his Mirage vanished, Fatima found her little half-breed.”

  “Let him go,” Jenna commanded through clenched teeth.

  “Okay.” He sounded sincere.

  Her jaw relaxed. “Really?”

  “No,” he replied sarcastically.

  She blew out a breath of exasperation. “Take me to him.”

  “In time. But first I’d like to have a little…taste…of you…before my sister. She’s very eager to meet you too; the former and current lover of our dear half-breed Malcolm. It should be an exciting show.”

  She closed her eyes, trying to sense Saladin’s presence. She felt a whoosh to her right, and without opening her eyes, she turned, quick as a snake, and stabbed…nothing. He wasn’t there.

  He chuckled again. “You really are a terrible Mage. I’ve seen old grannies better than you.”

  Mad and hot and tired and hungry and on the verge of tears, she began stabbing at the air around her, hoping to make a hit. “I hate you! I hate you! Show yourself!”

  “As you wish,” he drawled in a bass tone.

  A fiery hand gripped her wrist. She managed to hold onto her dagger as Saladin finally appeared out of a black fog. He was tall, slender, but muscular, wearing a long-sleeved silk black shirt; the first few buttons were open at the top, revealing a patch of smooth black chest hair. His black pants had that just been ironed look, and his black dress shoes were scuff free.

  But his face! Gorgeous was putting it mildly. His eyes were fiery to be expected, but soft and inviting as were his lips. He had the same caramel skin tone and raven black hair as Malcolm, but Saladin’s was longer, pulled back in a short ponytail. He was forming a five o’clock shadow that made him look even sexier. He looked like a twenty-something corporate CEO who did modeling on the side.

  His grip was burning her skin, but she remained frozen, paralyzed not by his demonic power, but by his unexpected beauty. She’d been geared up for a knockdown, drag-out fight. But he’d pulled a preemptive strike—striking good looks, that is.

  He smiled, showing pearly white teeth as he maintained his grip on her wrist, holding her to him. “Now there’s another first.”

  “Wha?” she breathed.

  His fiery eyes twinkled. “You’re smitten with me.”

  She snapped out of her delusion and tried to pull away from him, but he was too strong.

  “I’m not smitten.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “Oh, but you are.” He leaned down, his lips almost touching hers. “I can taste your desire. It spills off of you in waves, lapping into my mouth.” He wrinkled his nose, gripping her wrist tighter. “What a pathetic, disgusting creature you are.”

  Just as he was winning her over, he lost her. “You may be gorgeous on the outside, but it’s just a façade, a deception to cover your grotesque soul.”

  “I don’t have a soul.”

  “That’s why you’re gonna lose.”

  He rolled his fiery eyes. “What crappy movie did you recite that from?”

  She was ready to kill him out of sheer annoyance. “Are we gonna flirt or fight?”

  He smiled, still amused by his enemy. “You’re a horrible flirt. I’d much rather fight, but so far, you’ve portrayed yourself as an unworthy opponent.” He sighed, melancholy. “I was hoping for an actual duel.”

  “Lemme go and you’ll get one.”

  He laughed so hard tears almost came to his fiery eyes. “Why should I be afraid of you if just by gripping”—he tightened his hold—“your wrist, you’re defeated?”

  “How many Magi have you fought?” she interrogated.

  He gave a proud smile. “I’ve killed dozens.”

  She smiled back. “Being a pureblood Jinni, are all your bits in the right places?”

  He furrowed his brow, confused for the first time since their encounter. “Bits?”

  It was now or never.

  She whipped up her knee, slamming it right into his crotch. He groaned in pain, squeezing his eyes shut as he fell to the ground, holding himself.

  Not wasting an opportunity, she raised her dagger, ready to slay him once and for all.

  “Bet no Mage ever made contact there, huh?”

  But when she went to plunge the blade into his heart, he opened his fiery eyes, gave her a crooked smile, and disappeared.

  “Dammit!” she growled.

  After his departure, the chamber with all its fake beauty, faded away, and she was standing in the dark.

  BURN, BABY, BURN

  Her dagger was like a golden flashlight as she traveled in the semi-dark of a different castle with different turns and no balls of fire, searching for the siblings, hoping Malcolm hadn’t been harmed. She regretted knocking him out—she’d been trying to keep him safe—and it just ended up leading Fatima straight to him.

  As she progressed, more and more paths were blocked by sandy barriers of superior strength.

  “That damn Jinni!” she growled.

  Her exhaustion grew worse; hunger pains followed. If Jenna wasn’t yawning, her stomach was growling. She was getting weaker and weaker by the second, moving at a snail’s pace, hugging the sandy walls. Just as she was about to stop and rest, a familiar voice rang out.

  “JENNA!”

  She tore herself away from the wall, straightening her back. “MALCOLM?!”

  “HURRY!”

  Her energy was boosted by his plea. She raced all around the castle, following the echo of his voice as he continued to call for help. She knew that she was being guided because paths that she’d taken were now blocked and new paths were being revealed to her.

  Finally, only one passage remained, leading into a darkened hall.

  “MALCOLM?! WHERE ARE YOU?!”

  “HURRY!” His shout blasted her ears.

  Her fingers were curled so tight around the hilt of her dagger that she was starting to get blisters. She took a step forward and the ground shook. Sensing a cave in, she ran, while the floor and walls shook terribly, sending chunks of sand falling on her head from the ceiling.

  Her dagger was a glow stick, guiding her way. She came into another large chamber, but nowhere near as elegant as the first. The ceiling was low, creating a sense of claustrophobia. In the center of the room was a large fire, devoid of wood, erected from the sandy ground below. The tips of its spitting flames reached the hanging ceiling, lapping at it like dozens of tongues.

  As she ventured further, small rocks crunched like glass shards under her feet.

  “Jenna?” Malcolm’s voice was weak.

  “Where are you?”

  “In here. Come closer.”

  Something about his voice didn’t sound right; the tone was playful, seductive, and dangerous.

  She held out her dagger, poised to strike. “Saladin, you rotten piece of shit! I know that’s you!”

  “Whoa, whoa!” He appeared out of a black fog, looking the same: well-dressed and gorgeous. “Language,” he scolded, but with one of those I’m-so-proud-of-you smiles.

  “I don’t have time for this! Where’s Malcolm?”

  “Is that her?” The voice
was distinctively female and exotic. Fatima.

  “Yes, sister,” Saladin replied to an empty space next to him.

  That void was soon filled with a black fog that transformed into one of the most gorgeous women Jenna had ever seen.

  Fatima was wrapped in a sleeveless black silk dress that hugged her curves; a belt made out of turquoise gems snaked around her small waist. Her feet were bare. Her neck, wrists and hands were without jewelry, but white pearls were weaved through her raven black hair, braided down her back. Her eyes were like all pureblood Jinn, fiery red, but the flames complemented her caramel skin, and didn’t seem that evil at all.

  Truly, she was the master of seduction, just like her brother. Jenna was surprised that Malcolm had the courage to even leave her. It seemed that no man or Jinni could resist her.

  Even Jenna was dazzled by her beauty.

  Fatima walked slowly, swinging her hips as she approached. They stood so close that Jenna could feel the fire from Fatima’s eyes. This would’ve been the perfect opportunity to kill the Jinniyah, but Jenna was paralyzed by her beauty as she’d been with Saladin. What good was her destiny as a Mage if she couldn’t resist good-looking Jinn?

  “This,” the princess began, “is who my beloved ran away to?”

  “Unbelievable, I know,” Saladin replied, shaking his head.

  Fatima looked like she was going to vomit. “So ugly.” She turned her back to Jenna as she addressed her brother, unafraid that she could be attacked from behind. “How could Malcolm fall in love with such a thing?” she pondered with disgust.

  Jenna was furious, which made her stupid, missing an opportunity to stab Fatima in the back. “I’m not a thing,” she spat before Saladin could give a vulgar answer to his sister’s question. “I’m human. Malcolm’s half-human. He’s got Jinni blood, but he’s nowhere near as perverted and malicious as you.”

  Saladin’s lips lifted in a half smile. Obviously, he wasn’t mad at Jenna for insulting his sister.

  Fatima, with her fists clenched, spun to face Jenna; her fiery eyes were about to go supernova. “How stupid are you to think that Malcolm’s interest in you is nothing more than a delusion of his rotten human mind?!”

  “Delusion?” Jenna couldn’t help laughing like a loon. “You’re the one who’s deluded.”

  Fatima’s plump lips stretched into a peculiar shape: she smiled. Jenna was nervous, preferring her to frown. At least then she could guess the Jinniyah’s intentions.

  “Let’s see who’s right.” Fatima turned to face a dark corner of the room and extended her hand. “Oh, Malcolm, my love, will you please join us.”

  Jenna was tempted not to pass up this second opportunity and stab Fatima in the heart, snuffing out her beautiful existence, but she stayed her hand, waiting for Malcolm to appear.

  He did, stepping out of the shadows, as if he’d always been standing there, preferring not to speak—or forced to be quiet.

  “Malcolm?” Jenna addressed him with a smile; he seemed unharmed. “I’m sorry about earlier, about hitting you. I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”

  But Malcolm ignored her; his fiery blue eyes were only for Fatima. He greeted her with a passionate kiss.

  “My love,” he cooed, cupping her cheek in his hand.

  Any other girl would’ve felt betrayed, but Jenna knew better. He was half-human, which meant he was susceptible to suggestion. There was no way he’d choose Fatima over her.

  “Nice try,” she told Fatima. “If you have to resort to trickery to make someone love you, then you might as well give up.” She smiled. “Of course, there are others out there, desperate for a connection. Who knows? Maybe the Boogeyman has a profile on eHarmony.”

  Fatima snapped her fingers. Malcolm collapsed on the ground, unconscious.

  “NO!” Jenna rushed to him, but Fatima slapped her away with a crushing blow to her chest, sending her flying across the room. Her head knocked against the hard sandy wall; the dagger was thrown from her hand, buried beneath the sand.

  Jenna felt dizzy, but managed to stand up, and steady herself. Any other human would’ve died from such a blow.

  “You insolent creature!” Fatima shrieked at her. “How dare you challenge me?!” She stomped her foot against the ground; the castle trembled and a part of the ceiling crumbled, causing a downpour of sand to fall directly on Jenna’s head. “How dare you challenge my right?!”

  Jenna shook the golden sand from her red hair. “I’m a Mage,” she declared. “I will challenge you. And after I’m done watching you burn”—she pointed to Saladin, who was relaxing with amusement against the wall—“I’ll kill your brother too.”

  “Ooh, I’m shaking in my Louis Vuitton’s.” He rolled his fiery eyes, unafraid of Jenna’s threat, and then waved at Fatima in a shooing motion. “Sister, have at her,” he halfheartedly commanded. “I have business in Cairo with a Ghoul.”

  “NO!” Jenna yelled. “Y’all ain’t leaving Oasis alive!”

  The bronze blade of her dagger shone from the sandy floor. Jenna snatched it up by its cedar hilt and held it in front of her, daring Fatima or Saladin to bolt forward, hoping to jab it in their soulless hearts.

  Saladin laughed, obviously unconcerned about his impending death. “Sister, this is by far, the most exciting Mage we’ve come across in all our years.” He separated himself from the wall and approached his sister, still writhing in anger. “I think we should delay her death.”

  Fatima rounded on her brother with a disgusted look on her face. “Have you fallen under her spell too?!”

  “Of course not,” he said crossly, nose snarling. Then he relaxed. “I don’t care. Rip her heart out. Wear her entrails around your neck,” he suggested casually. “Just be quick about it. I can’t stand the sight of her or this place anymore.”

  Malcolm groaned in pain, but remained on the ground, his eyes closed. Jenna had to see if he was all right, but she couldn’t do that with Fatima and Saladin lurking around.

  “C’mon!” she challenged Fatima. “Get your spoiled princess ass over here and let’s do this!”

  If Saladin was cool as a cucumber, Fatima was hot as a habanero. He stood aside, arms folded over his chest, leaning against the wall, as his sister charged toward Jenna, screaming an undecipherable war cry.

  Just as Fatima was about to make contact, she disappeared before Jenna, and then reappeared behind her, delivering a heavy blow to her back, knocking her on the ground, near Malcolm.

  Jenna coughed, spitting blood upon a stretch of golden sand, dotting it red.

  Saladin struck his palms against each other once in a clap, and then again with an added smile. “Jinniyah-Two; Mage-Zero.”

  Malcolm groaned and opened his eyes. “Jenna?”

  Jenna smiled and reached over, caressing his face. “I’m here.”

  Fatima charged again, but Jenna was ready, back to full health. She leapt from the ground and in a spectacular kung fu move that would’ve made Bruce Lee proud, kicked the princess as hard as she could in the stomach; she went flying across the room in a collision course with the wall, where she slid down ungracefully and collapsed on the ground. The castle shook from her embarrassing defeat as chunks of sand pelted her from above.

  Separating himself from the wall and unfolding his arms, Saladin, for once, seemed worried. “Fatima?”

  But his sister was all right. She got up, fixed her dress and hair, shaking out the sand, and then narrowed her fiery eyes at Jenna. “Bitch!” she shrieked.

  Jenna held her dagger steady. “C’mon little princess who can’t keep a man,” she taunted.

  Jenna expected an explosive comeback, but Fatima was silent as she smiled wickedly, sweeping her fiery eyes from Jenna to Malcolm.

  Quick as a flash, Fatima disappeared, and then reappeared behind Malcolm, focusing her crazy fiery stare at Jenna. “If I can’t have him, NO ONE CAN!”

  In one swift move, she hoisted him up by his neck, and threw him toward the pillar of fire, shriekin
g in laughter.

  “NO!” Jenna screamed. Then she screamed again, but no one heard her; it was in her mind and it told her what to do: EXTINGUISH THE FIRE!

  The signal from her brain connected to her hand; it felt numb at first as if it’d been asleep, and then awakened with excitement as skin-deep jolts of electricity supercharged her left palm. She tossed it up, spreading her fingers wide, and watched as the howling flames died down to a whimper. Gray smoke rose, hugging the low ceiling, until it escaped through the emerging cracks of Saladin’s weakening stronghold.

  Malcolm collided against the wall, instead of the pillar of fire, and landed hard on the ground.

  Jenna ran and fell on her knees in the sand next to his body. “Malcolm?” His eyes were closed. “Malcolm?”

  Finally, he looked at her and smiled; his blue eyes were ablaze with joy. “Jenna?”

  She smiled back. “Hey, baby. Are you all right? Anything broken?”

  He shifted his body, testing it for weaknesses. “No,” he replied, shaking his head. “I’m fine.” He looked behind her where the ring of fire used to be. “How’d you—JENNA!”

  All Jenna heard was a shriek before hands clasped tightly around her neck. Malcolm yanked one hand away, but the vice-like grip of Fatima’s other hand was holding steady, heavily ensnaring Jenna’s windpipe.

  Malcolm kicked Fatima’s feet from out under her and she crashed on the ground. Jenna was free. She took a needed breath, plunged the dagger into Fatima’s cruel heart, twisted the blade, and then tore it free, watching red blood spurt like a geyser from her fatal wound. The princess shrieked not in vengeful fury, but in horrific pain as she burned from the inside out.

  But Jenna didn’t have time to relax. There was still one more enemy to destroy. She stood at the ready with weapon in hand as Saladin slowly approached his sister’s ashes, head tilted down.

  But something in his face made her lower the blade. He actually looked sad. He was a demon, but he was also a brother, and he’d just lost his only sibling—the last member of his family.

  “I’m sorry,” Jenna consoled.

  Saladin looked up at her, emotionless. “You see where love gets you, little rose.” He waved at his sister’s remains as proof of love’s foolishness.