Bound to Seduction (10 page)

* * *

Mira collapsed against Tariq and tried to
drag air into her lungs. His chest rose and fell with his own rapid
breaths, and both their bodies were coated in a sheen of sweat.
Sweat that felt way too good.

Pleasure still radiated everywhere—even in
her fingers and toes—and she smiled as she remembered how easily
she’d made him come with her mouth. How easily he’d made her come
with his body.

“I…I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

Tariq’s voice vibrated from his chest into
her ear, and she pushed back, smiled down at him. Her heart turned
over as she stared into his eyes. A reaction that both surprised
and confused her. “No, you didn’t hurt me. In fact, I think you
might have fixed me.”

He darted a look around the room, and the
way his eyes changed from lazy to on guard brought a rush of worry
that chilled her skin. Were those Ghuls back? Had he seen
something?

He
rolled her to her back, pushed up on his hand. A wave of
disappointment washed over her as he slid from her body. “Don’t say
that. Not yet,
hayaati
.”

She still didn’t know what “hayaati” meant.
She’d have to look that up. And she wasn’t sure why he didn’t want
her to say he’d fixed her. But as he climbed off the bed and pulled
on his jeans, the fear in his voice registered. Followed by an
understanding that dawned bright in her mind.

If her wish was complete, their time
together was over. He didn’t want it to be over.

Warmth
replaced the chill. She slid to the end of the bed, reached for his
T-shirt from the floor before he could pull it on. “I didn’t say I
was done with you, Tariq.” She tugged the shirt over her head, let
it drop to her thighs. Loved how it smelled like him. “I said
you
might
have
fixed me. Not that
you did.”

He stopped. Looked back at her. Then a
relieved smile spread across his face, just before he eased down
and kissed her, pushing her to the mattress once more and driving
her wild with his mouth. When he eased back, she saw approval in
his dark eyes. “You are unlike any woman I have ever met.”

She
liked that. Liked it a lot, actually. She fingered his bicep. He
was so muscular. Cut.
Hot
. “I
think there’s still lots more I need to learn. This was great and
all, but I don’t think I’ll be done with you until I know I can
pleasure you without you having to tell me what to do.”

“That could take a while,” he teased.

“Could take a long while.” She smiled. “I’m
thinking we might need another session right now.”

One dark brow lifted. “Right now? Are you
ready for that so soon?”

She brushed her hand down his spine and
gripped his ass through his jeans. “I’m definitely ready for it.
The question is, are you? You’ve already had two orgasms. You might
need to gather your strength.”

He
chuckled. “I am djinn,
hayaati
. Can’t you feel that I am ready?”

She did feel it. He was hard against her
thigh already. Arousal tingled between her legs once more.

She lifted her head. Pressed her mouth to
his. Mumbled, “You dressed way too quickly.”

He chuckled again. Slanted his mouth over
hers and kissed her deeper. She opened to him, drew his tongue into
her mouth. Groaned at the slick, dark taste of him all over again.
“I want you to stay with me tonight, Tariq. All night.”

His eyes flashed in approval, and he pushed
his hips against hers in a wicked way that made her downright
crazy. “I’m yours. Anything you want. Everything. You only have to
ask.”

She smiled. Lifted to kiss him again. But as
her lips met his, something changed. She felt it in the way he
pulled back. Saw it in the surprise in his eyes. Smoke spiraled in
the room. He looked down as it whipped in a tornado around his
body.

“Tariq?” She pushed up from the mattress as
he was lifted off her.

“
It’s
all right,
hayaati
,” he
said in a calm voice. A too calm voice. “I’m being called
back.”

Called back? No, that wasn’t part of her
wish. “Tariq—”

“
I will
return,
hayaati
.”

She reached out to him, but the smoke rose
over his head, covering him from view before her fingers could
reach his. And then it spun so fast, the force of the wind blew her
hair back from her face.

In seconds, he was gone. Nothing to show
he’d ever been there except for the thin blue T-shirt she was now
wearing.

That and the ache between her legs. The one
that only left her wanting more.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Several.
Since being back in his cell, Tariq had finally managed to relax.
Hours had passed with no visit, no explanation as to why he’d been
called back. But he could guess.

He lifted his head just as the cell door
swung open and Zoraida swept into the room, her royal blue gown
swishing in the air behind her. Fury coated her features, her eyes
blazing with a rage he’d never seen before. No sooner had he
climbed to his feet than her arm connected with his jawbone in a
blow that sent him staggering into the wall.

Pain shot through the left side of his face.
His hands hit the stones behind him. Her magic had grown these last
few years—thanks to him—and with it her strength as well. Pushing
away from the wall, Tariq refused to rub at the pain, instead
leveled his narrowed gaze on her, then the three guards close at
her back.

He could take her, he didn’t doubt that. But
they had swords, and without his magic, he’d never get by all three
without losing his life.

“
You
will not defy me,” Zoraida growled. “
I
am your
sayyeda
.
You
are my slave. And you
will
do my bidding. Guard?” she
called over shoulder.

A guard outside dragged a bloodied and
beaten Nasir into the room. “Yes, mistress.”

“Send him to Jahannam.”

“No!” Tariq jerked forward. The Pits of
Jahannam were fighting rings set up for the entertainment of Ghuls.
Few condemned there survived its horrors, and those who did came
out forever changed.

Zoraida’s fist jammed into his jaw, sending
him crashing into the rock wall again. “Stand down, djinni, or I
will send your other brother there as well.”

Blood ran across Tariq’s tongue, trickled
down his chin. Frantic, he looked for Nasir behind Zoraida as
guards rushed in and grasped Tariq’s arms so he couldn’t lurch at
her. They’d beaten his brother severely. Nasir’s face was black and
blue, and he was barely able to stand on his own two feet.
“Nasir—!”

“Don’t fight her,” Nasir said in a weak
voice as the guard dragged him out. “I’ll be okay. Save Ashur. Find
a way to save Ashur, Tariq. He won’t last much longer.”

Nasir’s empty voice echoed from the
passageway until he was gone. Rage whipped through Tariq as he
turned his glare on Zoraida.

“
You
will not defy me, djinni. I am your
sayyeda
,” she said again, as if saying it would make him
submit.

But he wouldn’t. Never willingly again. Fury
and disbelief swirled through him, but he didn’t answer. He was too
busy plotting all the ways he would turn his vengeance on her when
the time was right.

“The whip,” she called over her shoulder,
her icy gaze never leaving Tariq’s face. As a guard handed her the
weapon, she barked, “Secure him!”

The guards shoved Tariq face-first toward
the stones, chained his wrists to the hooks mounted high in the
wall.

He knew not to fight, knew it was useless.
But he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing him break.

“
You
will
do my
bidding,” Zoraida repeated as she snapped the whip back, then
brought the tip forward to slice into his skin.

Fire erupted across his back, pain so
intense it stole his breath. His body jerked, and he slumped
forward against the wall, gritting his teeth. To keep from crying
out, he thought of Nasir. Of Ashur. Of his father and their
kingdom. And of the retribution he would rain down on Zoraida and
her Ghuls when he was free.

“No one controls my will except me,” Zoraida
said through clenched teeth, snapping the whip back again. “Do you
understand?”

The whip cracked. Leather bit into his
flesh. A red burn exploded all along his spine. He sagged against
the cuffs as she pulled the whip back again and again, as the
leather sliced open his skin and darkness beckoned from the
shadows.

He lost track of the number of times he was
hit. But as the leather bit into his skin, reality spread out
before him like the river of blood pooling at his feet. She could
make him feel pain as he’d never experienced, but she wouldn’t kill
him. She still needed him to corrupt Mira’s soul. For whatever
reason, her Ghuls couldn’t do it. Which meant Mira was safe. At
least for now.

His hazy mind drifted back to all the souls
he’d corrupted for Zoraida. Most of the time, he’d succeeded in
fulfilling his targets’ wishes, but there were a few times he
hadn’t. When even he hadn’t been enough for the women who’d
summoned him. Those souls hadn’t mattered to Zoraida. Yes, she’d
punished him, but she’d just sent Tariq out on another mission when
he’d failed. But something was different this time. Mira’s soul was
vitally important to Zoraida. And he was the key to getting it.

Who was she? Why was she so important? And
was it possible she could somehow be instrumental to Zoraida’s
downfall?

His eyes drifted closed. He tried to push
the pain to the back of his mind. Tried to think clearly. But the
bite of leather, the burn of each lash was too much to ignore. And
before long, darkness threatened.

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.