Darkness, Kindled (Fire Spirits #4)

Darkness, Kindled (Fire Spirits #4) Page 32

Something flashed in Red’s eyes and Jai finally saw for himself Red’s loyalty and affection for Ari. He hated the thought of her with Asmodeus almost as much as Jai did. “I will protect her if it comes to that. And if it doesn’t … I will still make sure she is protected.”

“He won’t give up. Asmodeus … even if we find a way out … he won’t stop.”

Red’s jaw clenched as he turned to stare out at the night sky through the balcony window. “I’ll make it so he has to.”

“No,” Trey breathed, slumping down in a chair, his heart pounding hard in his chest. The rest of the Roes stood in tense silence, taking in what the Glass King had just relayed.

“Isn’t there something we can do?”

Fallon asked. Trey heard the panic he was feeling in her voice. “We can’t leave Ari to that. We can’t let that happen to Ari or Jai. Not after everything they’ve done.”

Trey looked up at Glass, hope in his eyes. Surely Glass and his brother Red wouldn’t let Asmodeus marry Ari. It wasn’t possible. Not after everything they’d all been through.

Glass met Trey’s eyes and within, he saw love and determination. All of it for Trey. He’d do anything for him.

Trey knew this because he’d already sacrificed something incredibly precious for Trey. It should’ve scared him to have a Jinn king—an actual freaking Jinn king—give such devotion. The Glass King, like all the Jinn kings, could be a ruthless bastard when he wanted to be. He would always make the hard choices, and sometimes Trey wasn’t going to agree with those choices. It should terrify him. But it didn’t. He was in love with Glass. So deep in love, that sometimes scared him. There was the consolation, however, that he would most probably never lose him. He was a freaking Jinn king after all. No one messed with a Jinn king.

So the ache Trey felt in his chest about Ari and Jai’s predicament wasn’t just because he loved Ari, it was because he loved Jai, and he knew what it would do to him to lose Ari. He understood it because what Jai felt for Ari, Trey felt for Glass.

“We have to do something,” Trey murmured. “There has to be a way.”

Glass shook his head slightly, and Trey could see he hated delivering this news to him. “There is only one way out of this, and there is a huge possibility it won’t work. I’m leaving now to attempt to do what I can, but I don’t want to leave you with hope. I need you all to come to terms with the fact that there is a great chance Ari will be lost to you.”

Trey’s throat tightened and he nodded sharply before turning his gaze on his companions. Fallon stood beside her father, fists clenched at her sides, face red with anger. Her mother sat across from Trey, Caroline’s face pale, eyes sad. Michael stood by his daughter, and Trey could only describe his expression as pained. Trey knew Michael had become especially fond of Ari and even more so of Jai over the last few months.

Trey fought back the tightness in his throat and glanced back at Glass. “Do what you can.”

Glass bowed his head and stepped back into the Peripatos to try to save their friends from tragedy.

Sleep evaded Ari. The entire night was a battle against despair, her mind racing over possible solutions to fight back the inevitable loss of her future. When morning broke, she was exhausted and trying very hard not to be defeated.

When Asmodeus turned up at her chamber and demanded her company for the day, she found herself leaving with him willingly—the hope being that she could find the Jinn who’d sat on sandy beaches with her in her dreams and shown her that inside him somewhere was wisdom, light, and a modicum of goodness.

They strode through the palace grounds, the warm Mount Qaf air blowing through Ari’s hair. She saw the sly grins of the market sellers and patrons and knew that word had spread about their impending nuptials. “They know,” she said flatly.

He strolled beside her, arms behind his back, his hard face tilted slightly toward the sky. “Yes, they know.”

“Doing this won’t bring her back.”

“No. However, it will destroy you and scratch an itch of mine at the same time.” He slanted a darkly heated look her way. “I’ve wanted you in my bed a while. We both know that.”

Ari blanched at the thought. “How can you want me when you hate me?”

Asmodeus laughed, a bitter, horrible sound. “Do you not understand yet, Ari?” He led her to end of the courtyard where they could be alone, perched upon one of the highest peaks of Mount Qaf. The emerald chips in the mountains winked and sparkled in the sun, casting rays of green light here and there. Asmodeus leaned on the wall and Ari felt a chill bleed out of her veins at the sinister look on his face. “I killed my sister—my twin—because of you.” He looked at Ari again. “And I don’t hate you. That,” he leaned into her now, his eyes roaming her face, “is why I am doing this to you.”

“Out of guilt,” she curled her lip in anger. “You’re doing this because of your own guilt?”

“If I can’t hate you, I need to find my vengeance somehow.” Asmodeus smiled, but it wasn’t the least bit pleasant.

“I want you in my bed and I want you out of Jai Bitar’s life. Not only will it break your heart to leave him, but oh, Ari,” he breathed, his voice thickening with sexual intent, “what will make it sweeter is the guilt you’ll feel when you discover you enjoy being in my bed.”

Rage and impotence ripped through her and she shoved her face aggressively in his, forgetting he could crush her in a second. “I will never enjoy your hands on me. Never.”

Asmodeus merely laughed. “A woman’s body can betray her. Yours definitely will.”

Tears shimmered in Ari’s eyes. “I hate you.”

In a blur of movement she found herself caught in his clutches, his hand gripping her nape tightly, painfully, as he hauled her up against his body. She strained against him as he leaned down to brush his mouth across hers. He pulled back and his eyes bore into hers, heavy with malice. “Good,” he murmured softly.

25

The Rebellious Puppet

The mirrored room, that vast space Ari had always considered a ballroom because of its size, was actually just Azazil’s receiving room. The ballroom was smaller, although still sizeable, and it was surprisingly a little warmer in style than the rest of Azazil’s palace. The marble floor was shot through with silver crystal dust, the walls a soft buttercream, broken up by elaborate sconces and paintings. The paintings were of all different styles—Impressionism, post-Impressionism, pre-Raphaelite, Surrealism … None of it was coherent stylistically but it followed a theme: all the paintings captured images of the Jinn world.

Heavy brocade curtains draped windows and archways. Three massive crystal-drop chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Banquet tables lined the edges of the room while a phantom orchestra played classical music with a hint of the Middle East. Hundreds of Jinn, lesser Royals, and important landowners mingled around the room, the energy vibrating with power and magic and excitement that after centuries and centuries, Prince Asmodeus had finally chosen a bride to be head of his harem.

Azazil sat in his throne on a small dais at the north end of the room. He wore black silk pants, his feet bare, his torso also, although covered slightly by a long black cape. It had armholes so that it concealed some of his torso, but his bare arms were decorated with mysterious black tattoos, a pattern of swirls and curlicues Ari did not understand. Gold cuffs adorned both wrists, a large emerald stone in the center of each. A long, white braid threaded with thin, gold chains stretched down his back, and in his ears dangled earrings of emerald and gold.

His lieutenant, Asmodeus, and Ari’s detestable betrothed, wore black leather pants. His feet were also bare and he wore no shirt, displaying a powerful upper body. His long, dark hair spilled down his back like black silk, and he wore a decorative gold torc that clipped from the back of his neck and fitted in a wide off-circle across his collarbone and upper chest. Inset with rubies and emeralds, the torc matched the cuffs around his wrists. Spanning his massive biceps were plain gold circlets.

The two of them were dressed to impress. As, unfortunately, was Ari. Female Shaitans had come to her room hours before the “celebratory” feast, and outfitted Ari to Asmodeus’s request. This meant she was wearing an emerald green dress that revealed much more than she’d like it to. It was made of light chiffon silk and although long, the skirt was split into four panels so that when Ari walked, it revealed her bare legs. She was also barefoot, but she had a gold spiraling cuff that started at her ankle and wound its way up her right calf. It matched the gold spiral wrist cuffs and the spiral drop earrings. Her hair was loose because Asmodeus liked it that way. The vile bastard.

Ari glowered out into the ballroom, her expression only changing from hatred to agonized longing when she allowed her gaze to stop on Jai. He stood in the far right corner with the Red King, who stood vigil at his side. Jai’s gaze did not waver from her. Red clamped a hand on Jai’s shoulder to stop him from moving toward Ari.

“I keep warring between sympathy and amusement over this, Asmodeus,” Azazil suddenly said. Ari jerked her gaze to the Sultan to see he was eyeing Jai. “Perhaps we should move it along before my sympathy gets the better of me.”

Asmodeus’s expression darkened. “My mercurial master is not going to change his mind on me.”

“That sounded like a demand.”

Azazil tilted his head to smirk at his lieutenant. “You are getting bold, Asmodeus.”

“I just don’t want my fun spoiled.”

Ari waited with bated breath to see what Azazil would say.

He heaved a sigh and flicked a bejeweled hand at Asmodeus. “I am not going to change my mind. You need not worry. It’s just there are few real warriors among the lesser Jinn and we are baiting the one we have. I suggest you get your cruel torment over with before I decide to alter your vengeance to Ari only.”

“Fine.” Asmodeus growled in the back of his throat. He clutched Ari painfully by her bicep and dragged her down the dais as Azazil announced to the room that Asmodeus was going to have his first dance with his betrothed. The floor cleared quickly, the curious Jinn huddling to the edges of the room, their bodies like a treasure chest of jewels in such richly colored clothes.

To cause as much pain as possible, Asmodeus didn’t stop until they were on the south end of the dance floor, close to Jai and Red. Ari glanced at Jai only to have her head whipped around as Asmodeus hauled her into position.

She stood stiffly in front of him, not moving.

Asmodeus tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “Dance with me or I’ll make him suffer for your disobedience.”

“Bastard,” she whispered as she stepped into him and placed her hands very tentatively on his shoulders. It was quite the stretch since he was so tall, and she felt him bend slightly to her as his own large hands settled on her hips. He swayed them to the music and Ari felt the heat of Jai’s gaze burn on her neck.

The torturous moment seemed to last forever until Asmodeus drew her even tighter against him. She tried to strain back but he was too strong, and before she could stop him, he kissed her. Not a slight brush of lips against lips, but a hard kiss, forcing her mouth open so his tongue could touch hers.

Ari bit down hard and he made a rough sound before he yanked her away. She tasted blood on her tongue and smiled wickedly at him. Asmodeus’s face darkened and he whirled her around, pulling her back against his front so she was facing Jai. At that same moment, two Shaitans appeared in front of Jai, ignoring Red’s commands to step back.

Instead one of them pulled out a long strand of thin, hard leather attached to a gripped handle.

A whip.

The Shaitan gave an expert flick of his wrist and the leather cracked loudly against the marble floor in front of Jai. The guests gasped, excited whispers filling the ballroom.