Did you really think this would be easy? she asked Lilif with a quiet confidence. The Sultana flinched. I’m the daughter of a Jinn king. If I go down, I’m taking you with me.
As her muscles screamed and her blood caught fire with the pain of the fight, Ari could only hope the Ifrit bought her bluff.
With a howl of outrage, and a warning that it wasn’t over between them, flames surrounded Lilif and she disappeared into the Peripatos, leaving Ari a panting mess on the mulch.
“Guess she bought it,” she puffed out, rolling inelegantly onto her knees. She stood, reaching for a tree to catch her before she fell and felt eyes on her. She darted a look over her shoulder.
She froze at the sight of an old maintenance guy. His expression was curious rather than horrified, so she was guessing he hadn’t caught the battle between her and crazy succubus bitch.
Instead his wrinkled eyes darted over her appearance. Ari glanced down at the mud and grass all over her.
“You all right there?” he asked quietly.
With a sigh, Ari gave him a weak wave. “Just doing some yoga.” And limping—from a yoga injury, of course—she attempted to hurry away from him, coming to a stop when he was finally out of sight. Nausea rolled over her as she exerted more energy to summon the Peripatos, but Ari persevered and let the welcome flames take her home.
She collapsed as soon as she reached Michael Creagh’s study, Michael’s curse filling the office seconds before he shouted to Caroline and Fallon for help.
His strong arms lifted Ari into an armchair, his dark eyes roaming her face in deep concern. “What happened?” he asked anxiously.
The door slammed open and Fallon and Caroline hurried in. Caroline took in Ari’s appearance and immediately, her lips pinched together. “What the hell happened?”
Fallon gave her a sympathetic once-over.
“Dude, you look like crap.”
Ignoring Fallon’s comment, Ari related the events of the last hour (it had felt like a century) and watched the color leach from their faces.
Fallon glanced at her father, her eyes searching his for an answer. “What does this mean?”
When he didn’t answer, and Ari suspected he’d already clued in, Ari sat up straight, wincing at the pain emanating from every part of her body. “It means,” she drew in a deep breath, trying to ignore the sick, churning feeling in her gut, “it means I’m in this again. Lilif knows I can withstand her command and protect those around me from it. She also knows, or at least thinks, I can’t be taken out easily. She’ll be gunning for me, make no mistake, and since I’m one of only two people who can withstand her command …” Ari let her head flop against the armchair as her eyes hardened with the thought of the task ahead, “I’m going to have to be gunning for her first.”
14
An Old Street, NewSidewalk
Lilif had summoned White away from the noise of their attacking army to the eerie quiet of his palace in Zubair. She sat across from him, her fingers tapping slowly against the arm of his square-cut, straight-edged black chair. It was made of cool glass, a coolness only matched by his mother’s appearance. For once she wasn’t pacing back in forth with a disturbing frenetic energy.
The White King found her contemplative mood perhaps even more alarming. It was much too like him … much too like him when he had a dangerous but intelligent strategy brewing.
“Your business did not go well, then?”
Lilif looked up at him, face blank.
“I went to recruit your daughter and she was unmoved by my promise to keep her and her Ginnaye safe once The After claims us.”
White had not expected anything less. “Is she still alive?” he asked with affected boredom.
She nodded tightly. “For now. You created a strong daughter.” She quietly told him what had occurred in the graveyard and White felt a strange feeling wash over him.
Was it pride? For Ari?
No, he scoffed inwardly at the thought and turned back to his mother. “What now, then? It is obvious we are not going to get into the palace.”
“I know.” Lilif lifted her dark eyes to his. “We must force Azazil to us.”
“And how can we accomplish that? We cannot use the Seal against him until he is within your grasp.”
She rose casually, her fingers trailing along the edges of the items in his room. She did that a lot. As though she needed a reminder that she now had a tangible connection to the world again. “When Ari asked her favor of Azazil, his power would’ve left a signature on those affected by the change. Of course, there will have been many affected by the change, but there will be one or two in particular whose destinies were the focus of the change. The signature left on them will be particularly hefty.”
White froze, instantly understanding where his mother was going with this.
It was true that when Azazil changed a destiny, the person whose destiny he changed was left with a trail of Azazil’s power in their blood for a number of months after. Blood was a powerful element in enchantments, especially for tracking or drawing a being to you. If Lilif got her hand on someone who had enough of Azazil’s power in their blood, she could use it to pull Azazil through the Peripatos to her.
As soon as he realized this was her intent, White began telepathing their conversation to his brother.
“Do you know whose blood might be particularly affected?”
White gazed at her dispassionately, as though he cared not a whit. In truth he didn’t care for the boy he was about to turn into a target, but he cared about their world, which made protecting the boy important.
Get to Charlie now, he told Red, his gaze still blank. Lilif is after his blood.
“Well?” she asked somewhat impatiently.
His blood?
Red asked impatiently. Why?
He shrugged. “It could be a number of people,” he said, attempting to stall her.
“Names, Son, I want names.”
To pull Father to her, of course, he snapped at Red. Just do it!
“This could be a complete waste of time.”
I’ll contact Ari at once, Red assured him.
She took a step toward him, a small smile playing on her lips as she reached up to brush her fingers down his cheek. “Give me a name, White … or you will force me to do something I will truly regret.”
He flashed her a look to tell her he wasn’t afraid of her. She smirked, patting his cheek affectionately, urging him to speak. “Charlie Creagh,” he told her stonily. “A human called Charlie Creagh.”