Bound to Seduction Page 8

  You can’t save them all. Nasir, Ashur…Mira. You’ll have to choose. Them or her.

  Sound drifted away. Darkness closed in. And then there was nothing but silence. Not even a choice.

  * * *

  Mira hadn’t seen or heard from Tariq in three days. She’d tried to call him back with the opal, but he either wasn’t listening or whoever controlled the stone wasn’t letting him through.

  The last thought circled loudly in her mind as she sat at her computer and skimmed her e-mail, searching for one from a professor she’d located online who supposedly knew all there was to know about djinn. She hadn’t been able to focus on anything but Tariq this week, so she’d finally cashed in some vacation time. With nothing else to do but worry and stress over the way he’d left, she’d gone looking for more information on his race and had finally found Dr. Claire Sampson, a professor of folklore and history at the University of Florida.

  They’d e-mailed back and forth several times. The woman had heard stories of djinn being trapped or bound by certain objects, and in her last e-mail had said she’d do some more research to see where historical records showed those objects turning up. Just the fact she hadn’t thought Mira was a complete kook when she’d started peppering the woman with questions was a major plus as far as Mira could see.

  Silently rejoicing when she saw the subject line: RESEARCH, she hit open and started reading.

  Mira—

  Historical documents show that djinn can be bound only by a powerful master—a sorcerer, a priestess, a wizard, etc.—someone who has studied a grimoire, or magical textbook, and knows how to bind a djinni without negative repercussions. They’re not bound to the object itself but to the energy within an object, which means they can be bound to anything, really, but more often than not, they’re bound to magical objects like talismans and amulets…rarely lamps like you see in popular culture. King Solomon reportedly used a magical ring made of copper and iron with a fire opal set in the metal to command the djinn he enslaved. (Djinn are severely weakened and drained of magical abilities in the presence of iron.)

  I’m still looking into ways to break a bond between slave and master—I don’t know if it can be done, but if it can, all parties—slave, master, exorcist—have to be in the same realm, and ideally, in the same area. A colleague recently mentioned the Key of Solomon—a grimoire King Solomon reportedly wrote containing all his secrets regarding djinn. When I know more I’ll pass it on to you. In the meantime…

  I’ve read numerous accounts of human interactions with djinn, but I’ve never heard of a djinni wanting to stay with a human by choice. Yes, they can mate with them, but it’s rare. And they aren’t known to fall in love with humans…at least not often. They’re tricky creatures, even when bound to an object. Be careful you’re not reading something into the situation that isn’t there. This isn’t just about your peace of mind; it’s about your safety as well. There are powerful entities out there—magical entities—that prey on djinn and use them to get what they want. Sometimes that’s as simple as wealth, but usually it’s something more nefarious. Like the destruction of a human soul. I’ll keep looking, but in the meantime, my advice would be this: do NOT do anything to summon this djinn back. If he’s gone, let him stay gone forever and consider yourself lucky you escaped unscathed.

  —Claire

  Mira sat back from the screen as the professor’s last sentence sank in. Let him go? The woman wanted her to pretend as if the last week hadn’t happened? Mira couldn’t do that. And she didn’t believe all djinn were bad. They had free will, just as humans did—or so her research said. But more importantly, her heart told her Tariq wasn’t bad. He couldn’t be. Not after the way he’d protected her from those Ghuls and the way he’d tried to get her to change her mind about her wish in the first place.

  Slowly, Mira’s mind circled around to her wish. And spun right back to Dr. Sampson’s e-mail.

  There are powerful entities out there that prey on djinn and use them to get what they want…like the destruction of a human soul.

  Dread welled inside her. Was that why Tariq had come to her? Because some master wanted her soul? That made no sense.

  But then she remembered the shopkeeper’s warning when she’d gone looking for the Firebrand opal: Choosing to wear the opal opens yourself to consequences you may not yet foresee. Be sure it is a risk you are willing to take.

  She lifted her fingers, ran them against the stone at her chest as she had numerous times since Tariq had left her in a puff of black smoke. Was that what he’d been trying to warn her about? Was that why he hadn’t made love to her on that Tahitian beach and had sent her back, telling her to think long and hard about what she really wanted?

  She thought of the way he’d acted when he’d returned. Reserved. Unsure. How she’d point blank asked him if he wanted her or not, and how he’d finally admitted that he did. But he hadn’t seemed happy about that knowledge. In fact, he’d seemed…saddened by it.

  Then she remembered the way she’d teased him after they’d made love, how she’d told him maybe he’d fixed her. And how panicked he’d looked at the thought.

  Reality chilled a space in her chest. He’d known. From the very first. He’d known that by fulfilling her wish, he was damning her soul in some way. He’d tried to stop her wish, and when that hadn’t worked, he’d tried to prolong it. And he’d been dragged back to wherever he was now by whomever was controlling him because of that attempt.

  Fear surged through her, rippled through her limbs, stole her breath. But was quickly replaced by a determination that spread a calm along every quivering nerve ending. There was still time. Nothing had been decided yet. Nothing that couldn’t be changed. And because nothing was final, she knew Tariq would be back. He hadn’t completed whatever task his master had sent him here to do. She had one last chance to make all of this right.

  She hit reply on the e-mail and furiously typed her response. And her remaining questions. When she was done, she clicked send, sat back and prayed Dr. Claire Sampson could help her. Because suddenly, her wish—finding a way to make herself more desirable to Devin—didn’t matter. All that mattered was uncovering a way to free Tariq from his bonds. And maybe, if she was lucky, save her own soul in the process.

  * * *

  Exhaustion weighed heavy on Tariq as he crossed the portal into the human world. His wounds had healed over, but they were still tender. And he was weaker than he should be from the beating. But instead of giving him time to fully recuperate, Zoraida was antsy for him to finish his assignment.

  A poof of black smoke encircled him; then his feet hit solid ground. Through the dissipating haze, Mira’s excited voice drifted toward his ears, but he couldn’t tell what she was saying. Then he didn’t care. Her body hit his, nearly knocking him off his feet, her arms wrapped around his neck, and then her lips…her sweet and succulent lips…were closing over his, parting to let him in, dragging him toward a temptation he didn’t want to give in to. Not until he figured out how he could protect both her and his brothers…and bring Zoraida down for good.

  Impossible. You have to make a choice. Her or your brothers. You can’t save them all.

  She pulled back from his mouth, looked up with hazel eyes that sparkled like diamonds. “I wasn’t sure when I’d see you again. I’m so glad you came back to me. I missed you, Tariq.”

  Warmth spread through his chest. And words choked in his throat.

  How could he choose between her and his brothers? He loved his brothers, felt responsible for what had happened to them, but Mira… She’d truly missed him. He could see it in her eyes. And not just the wish he could grant her or the fact he was a prince and a warrior. But she’d missed him, the person.

  “Mira—”

  She grasped his hands, pulled him forward as she stepped back toward a U-shaped couch. “Come here.”

  He stumbled, the heat of her hands warming his palms, sending electrical vibrations all along his nerve ending
s. He looked around as she tugged him down to the couch, as she snuggled close to him on the soft leather, as he closed his arms around her and her head rested against his chest.

  Teak furnishings, floor-to-ceiling cabinets, a galley kitchen, high-tech electronics, and ahead, a raised bed. This wasn’t her house. This wasn’t anywhere he recognized. Water lapped somewhere close. Water that indicated…

  “Mira,” he said quickly, excitement building inside him. “Are we on the water?”

  “Yes,” she said against him. “On my boss’s boat. He let me borrow it. I haven’t been able to focus since you left, so I took the rest of my vacation.”

  They were on a boat. The tension in his muscles began to relax, and relief spiraled through his whole body. Zoraida couldn’t hear them on a boat. Water interfered with her ability to see through the opal he was wearing and monitor what he was doing. It was a loophole she hated. And he was forbidden from taking any mark on a boat, into water period. But he hadn’t brought Mira here. She’d brought him.

  A slow smile twined its way across his mouth, and he tipped her chin up to his so he could see those mesmerizing eyes again. “You, hayaati, are amazing.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you are.”

  He brushed his fingers through her long hair, lowered his mouth to hers, and kissed her the way he’d restrained himself from kissing her earlier. Her lips parted easily, and he stroked his tongue against hers, tasted her sweetness, her goodness, her wetness and need. Reveled in just being close to her. Even if he knew it could never last. For the first time in ten years, Zoraida couldn’t see him. She couldn’t hear him. She couldn’t touch him. Not so long as they were on this boat. And before he had to decide what to do next, he planned to show Mira just what her gift meant to him. Even if she didn’t know it was a gift in the first place.

  He pushed her down to the cushions, braced his hands on the leather as he climbed over her and changed the angle of the kiss, as he tasted her deeper, as her arms came around him and she pulled him close. His chest brushed hers; her legs opened to make room for him. And when she groaned, when her fingers dug into his shoulders and she pulled him even closer, all the worry rushed away.

  He’d never been in love before. Not even with a female from his world. He’d never had time. And then he’d been imprisoned by Zoraida, and love had been the furthest thing from his mind. But here he was. With a female. A human female. One who gave and gave and didn’t ask for anything in return. One who had missed him, even knowing what he really was.

  “Mira—”

  She lifted her knees on each side of his, drawing him toward her heat, kissing him again and again and cutting off his words. Then she pressed her full, luscious breasts against his chest until all he could think about was stripping her naked and showing her with his hands and mouth and body how much she meant to him.

  “Mira—”

  “Don’t talk, Tariq,” she whispered, kissing his lips, his nose, his cheeks. “Just kiss me again. God, I missed you.”

  They were words no one ever said. Words he’d longed to hear. Words that touched a part of him he’d closed off from the world. He sank into her mouth, pushed his erection against her mound, groaned at the contact, just as she did. But when her hands traveled down his back and her fingers pressed into his still-healing wounds, he jerked back from her mouth and ground his teeth against the shot of pain igniting like fire in his flesh.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. “What happened?”

  “Nothing,” he managed, wincing as the burn slowly faded. “I’m…fine.”

  “You’re not fine,” Mira said, pushing him up and climbing onto her knees on the couch. “You’re hurt. Turn around.”

  “Mira—”

  “Turn around, Tariq.”

  One glance at her determined features told him she wouldn’t drop this demand until he complied. And though he didn’t want her to see the lash marks, he knew they weren’t going to finish what they’d started until he appeased her.

  He turned his back toward her.

  “Take off your shirt,” she said.

  He unbuttoned the shirt he wore, shrugged out of the short sleeves, and let the rayon fabric fall around his waist.

  Mira gasped.

  He looked over his shoulder. Couldn’t see anything but Mira’s shocked eyes and her hand covering her mouth. “That doesn’t sound encouraging, hayaati. You’re supposed to say, ‘It’s not that bad.’”

  Her heartsick gaze shot to him. But there was no humor in her voice when she dropped her hand and said, “Who did this to you?”

  He looked away, at the bed across the salon he still wanted to tumble across with her. But that clearly wasn’t going to happen until they talked. And he had a feeling once they did and she learned the truth, tumbling anywhere with him was going to be out of the question.

  You have to choose. Her or your brothers.

  “Tariq,” Mira said again when he didn’t answer. “Who did this to you?”

  “Zoraida.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “My master.”

  Mira sank back to sit on her heel. “The person who controls you. The one who sent you here to me.”

  He tugged his shirt back on, turned to face her. Knew that she had to be wondering how and why and what it all meant. Knew, when he looked into those glittering hazel eyes, that he was going to tell her. “A sorceress. One who used magic to break down the walls between our worlds. One who”—and here was where it got sticky—”tricked me.”

  “How?” Mira asked, tucking her feet up under her as he pushed to his and started pacing.

  Moving at least gave him something to do besides wonder what she was thinking. But the salon was so small, there was very little room to move. He raked a hand through his hair. “I’m the eldest of three sons. My father, the king—”

  “Wait. Your father’s a king?” Shock ran across Mira’s face, slowing his feet. “That makes you a—”

  “Prince. Yeah. Or at least, I was one. Once.” He shook off the thought, resumed pacing. The open shirt flapped against his stomach. “War is constant in our realm. The tribes are always fighting, seeking power. My brothers and I were all soldiers in the army, but as the eldest, it was my duty to assume the throne. I didn’t really want it. I liked being with the troops more than I did commanding them. But our father hasn’t been the same since he was injured in battle several years ago, and it was time. I was selfish, though. I asked for one last mission. He agreed—reluctantly—and sent me and a handful of soldiers up the Jagged Coast. Several villages had been ransacked by Ghuls. We were supposed to eradicate the Ghuls, restore order, and return me to my throne a hero.”

  “What happened?” Mira asked quietly.

  “Zoraida fooled me.” He thought back to how naïve he’d been. How young and easily coerced. How stupid. “She was in a bar in one of the first villages we freed. The soldiers were celebrating. There were females from the village there that night. Lots of females, ready to show their appreciation for what we’d done. She was one of them.”

  “She seduced you.”

  Was that jealousy in her voice? Tariq couldn’t tell. And he couldn’t dwell on it, because in a minute, it wouldn’t matter.

  “She used magic over me,” he said. “I didn’t know it at the time, but I realized it as soon as it was over. When the magic wore off, I saw her as she truly is. Not beautiful and magnetic as I’d envisioned her to be, but frigid and deadly. The raids on the villages—they were all traps. She commands the Ghuls, has since she came into our realm, only we didn’t know. She knew my father would send one of his sons to oversee the battles, and she needed a royal djinn from the strongest tribe to complete her goal: to become the strongest magical being in all of the realms.”

  “What happened next?” Mira asked in a quiet voice.

  “She bound me to the Firebrand opal, made me her slave. Sent me out into the human world to…” He swallowed, glanced down at the floor be
cause he couldn’t meet Mira’s eyes. Not this time. “…corrupt souls to fuel her power.”

  When Mira didn’t say anything, he resumed pacing. Okay, so now she knew the truth about the whole wish fulfillment thing and why he was here with her now. And she hated him, just as he’d known she would. But that space in his chest chilled faster than he expected, and what had once been warm and full of life earlier turned cold as a blackened cinder.

  He thanked his luck they were on a boat. That he was blocking her only escape. That she couldn’t get away, at least not yet. He needed her to hear the rest, even if she didn’t want to.

  “I’ve been her slave for ten years. I’ve done what she commanded because I was always looking for a way to freedom. But just before I met you, I realized there isn’t one.”

  She still didn’t speak, and he still couldn’t look at her. He just needed to get it all out. “I went on a hunger strike. I figured starving myself was the easiest way to end my life and her quest for power. But she manipulated me again. Somehow, she captured both of my brothers, and she brought them to me. She’d beaten them. Threatened their lives. They’d been looking for me. It wasn’t their fault they’d been captured. It was mine.”

  He drew a deep breath, let it out. Finally stopped pacing and faced her, because she deserved to see his eyes. “I knew you were different, right from the start, Mira. I knew as soon as I took you to that island that this time I couldn’t go through with my task. I couldn’t corrupt your soul for Zoraida.” He pressed his fingers against his temple. “I know it means nothing to you, but I’ve been racking my brain, trying to come up with a solution. Trying to find a way to break the Firebrand opal’s hold on you. To free you from this nightmare I’ve sucked you into. I want you to know that I’m not giving up. That no matter what, I’ll find a way to make sure Zoraida doesn’t get your soul.”