djinn wars 04 - broken (10 page)

Julia smiled and fell silent then, clearly intent on enjoying the food that had been set before her. Zahrias followed her lead and ate quietly for a few moments, pausing in between bites to take sips of his wine. Yes, that cabernet franc had been an excellent choice.

Then he asked, “And how are you faring in Los Alamos? Is there anything the community here in Santa Fe can assist you with?”

A flash of surprise in those long-lashed eyes of hers. “We’re doing quite well, but thank you for the offer. We had more luck than we’d thought with our vegetable gardens, so we were able to grow a good deal of our food and have managed to put more than we’d hoped aside for the winter.” She paused for a moment, seeming to contemplate the bounty on the plate in front of her. “I think we’re okay in terms of supplies, but….”

“But?” He wondered what worried her so much that a frown marred her clear brow.

She shifted in her chair so she was turned more toward him. The candlelight shimmered against the fall of her hair, and something about the way the shadows fell over her only seemed to emphasize the enticing curve of her breasts under the silken fabric of her top. Now it was harder than ever for Zahrias to meet her gaze calmly, to arrange an expression on his face that was merely one of concerned interest and nothing more.

“We’ve been lucky so far,” she said. “I don’t know if it’s that we were all immune to the Heat because overall we have very good immune systems, but we haven’t had to deal with any real illnesses. Allergies, Roger Garcia’s asthma, but that’s about it. The medical center in Los Alamos was pretty well stocked, thank God. But in a few years, those medicines might not be as effective anymore. I suppose that’s what really worries me. What if one of us gets sick…really sick? We’re really lucky that we have Ellen — she used to be a nurse — with us, but even she can do only so much. Sooner or later we’re going to come up against something she can’t fix.” Julia paused then and gave Zahrias a rueful smile. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to dump all over you.”

“It is fine,” he reassured her. Truly, because his own people never had to worry about illness and disease, he’d forgotten what a very great risk those ailments could be to the mortals who’d managed to survive thus far. “We both have our responsibilities, and I think it is important that we can discuss our challenges frankly with one another.”

“Well, that’s my challenge,” she said. “Or at least one of them. It must be a lot easier to be immortal.”

“We are not precisely immortal,” Zahrias replied, although he made sure to keep his tone neutral so it wouldn’t sound as if he was correcting her. “We are exceptionally long-lived, true, and we cannot become ill, but we can still die.”

“Of course,” Julia murmured, her expression darkening. No doubt she was thinking of Natila, dead at Margolis’ hands.

“Yes,” he said, “As you know, through injury or accident…or treachery.” He spoke quickly, hoping she would not ask for more details. The history of the djinn was a long and bloody one.

“I would assume that’s not common, though.”

“No.” Should he tell her more, speak of the greatest reason why his people were no strangers to death? He found he did not wish to keep secrets from her. “Far more common are those who weary of unending life and wish to move on to the next world. They choose the path of the
aljar al-nawim
.”

“The what?”

“In your tongue, it means ‘the draught of the dark sleep.’ A subtle poison that brings a calm and painless death.”

Shock registered in her eyes, the candle flames shimmering against the darkness of her pupils. “They commit suicide?”

“It does not have quite the same negative connotations as the act does in your world. For those who feel they have nothing left to feel or experience, it is the better path, rather than to remain here and simply…endure.”

Julia was silent for a moment, appearing to absorb his words. She reached for her glass and drank — more deeply this time, rather than the small sips she had been taking earlier. Still in silence, she swirled the remainder of the liquid in the goblet, watching as the glow from the candles awoke deep garnet-colored shimmers within the wine.

At last she spoke. “Do your Chosen know about this?”

“I cannot say. That is something for each of my people to discuss individually with those they have selected for their partners. Besides, every djinn here is young as my people count these things. They are very far away from the point where they would consider pursuing the dark sleep, especially now that they have partners whose welfare they must consider. I do not think you have anything to fear on their behalf.”

A nod as she absorbed this explanation. Whether she believed him, Zahrias couldn’t say for sure, but he had only been telling her the truth as he saw it. He supposed the subject would have come up at one point or another, but in that moment he only wished he could have avoided speaking of it this evening. Julia now looked very solemn, her thoughts clearly running in pathways she hadn’t previously explored.

Wishing to do something, he picked up the wine bottle and poured more of the cabernet franc into Julia’s glass, then topped off his own. As she watched, her expression seemed to relax somewhat.

Relieved, he said, “I am glad to hear that your community is doing so well. But I also know that your winters here are harsh. Last year, of course, we could not offer any assistance, but now that Los Alamos is under your care — ”

“Thank you for that. It’s good to know we’re not alone. And maybe if Miles keeps fiddling with it, he’ll finally come up with a way to modify his devices so they still block djinn powers without making you all feel like you’re about to keel over. It would be nice if it was easier for us to visit.”

Having suffered the effects of being around those devices for an extended period, Zahrias had to agree. True, he did not like the idea of not being able to use his powers, but he thought he could suffer that lack for a short time if it meant being able to go to Los Alamos so he could see the community for himself. He had to admit to some curiosity about how the world’s only remaining all-mortal town functioned on a day-to-day basis.

For he knew Los Alamos was the only place in the world where humans who were not Chosen still lived. That was a truth he had kept to himself, for he knew it would do little good to let the people in the town know there were no others like them. The rest of the djinn had completed their cleansing operations some months back. Oh, he guessed that a human survived here and there, hidden and hunted, but even those holdouts’ days were numbered. It was only because of Miles Odekirk’s miraculous devices that the thousand or so who now called Los Alamos home still lived and breathed.

“I think many of us would like that,” he said. Then he gestured toward the platter with the elk tenderloins. “Would you like some more?”

She shook her head. “No, thank you. It was marvelous, but I suppose I’m not used to eating such rich food.”

No, they probably served simpler fare where she had come from. When he’d asked Phillip to prepare the meal, Zahrias had decided against offering a sweet course, since he himself did not care for sweets, and he thought the meal on its own should be sufficient to satisfy his guest. Now that seemed to be the case, but he wondered if he had made a misstep. If Julia wished to have nothing else, what would prevent her from leaving now and returning to her hotel?

He lifted the wine bottle and held it up so he could see how much remained of its contents. At least a third. Perhaps he could at least persuade her to stay long enough to finish the wine.

She seemed to understand what he was thinking, for she said, “That wine was lovely, though. I suppose it would be a shame to waste it.”

Relief coursed through him. So she was willing to stay a while longer. “Perhaps it would be more comfortable in the living room — ”

A nod, and then she lifted the napkin from her lap, folded it, and placed it on the table next to her plate. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

Oh, God, this was crazy. When she’d told Zahrias she was full, Julia knew she should have then progressed to saying that she’d had a lovely time but that she really needed to get back to the hotel. Which was a complete lie, because what was she going to do once she got there? Scare up Brent Sanderson and ask him if he’d like to play a game of Scrabble? With no cable TV and no Internet, the list of options for occupying oneself in a hotel room these days was pretty damn short.

All right, Nancy and her beau Eric probably were having a fine time of it, but that particular activity wasn’t really an option for Julia.

Wine glass in hand, she followed Zahrias as he led her from the dining room to the living room, a large space with fourteen-foot ceilings and a rounded kiva-style fireplace in the corner. The furniture wasn’t particularly Southwest in style, though, but more modern — a pair of sleek bone-colored leather couches, a glass and metal coffee table. The art that covered the walls was abstract, blocks of color in dark salmon and turquoise, with hints of gold leaf. Did Zahrias prefer that sort of thing, or had he merely taken the house as he’d found it, not bothering to give it any touches that would make it his?

Maybe someday she’d have the courage to ask.

He waved a hand in the direction of the fireplace, and at once the logs piled in the hearth roared to life, sending some welcome heat into the room. Julia wouldn’t say she’d exactly been cold since she entered the house, but she could tell that Zahrias didn’t need his surroundings to be a perfect seventy-two degrees, either.

Since she wasn’t sure what she should do, she sipped some more wine from the glass she carried as he set the bottle on the coffee table. Sitting down on one of the couches seemed fraught with complications. Would he sit next to her, and what might that mean? On the other hand, if he chose the sofa opposite hers, that would seem to indicate he’d only had her come over for dinner out of politeness.

Well, if he was really intending a seduction, he probably would have chosen slightly different topics of dinner conversation,
she told herself.
Letting me know how some of the djinn off themselves when they get bored with life probably wasn’t the best way of getting me in the mood.

Actually, his revelation had fascinated her. She’d never stopped to think what it might be like to be blessed — or in some cases cursed — with unending life. After a while, it might start to get pretty old. Still, having someone close to you who chose to drink the draught of the dark sleep had to be terrible for the people left behind.

Zahrias paused a few feet away from her, wine glass in his hand. The light from the fire behind him framed his form, silhouetting him in a warm glow. She realized then that she hadn’t seen any of the little dancing flames around him since she’d gotten here. Had he suppressed them on purpose, unsure as to whether they would make her uneasy, or did they only appear when he was angry or feeling some other strong emotion?

“So you will be returning to Los Alamos tomorrow?” he asked.

She couldn’t detect anything of regret in his tone. On the other hand, he sounded almost too casual, as if he was forcing himself to bring up a topic he really didn’t want to discuss but knew would have to be addressed at some point.

Or maybe she was just indulging herself.

“Yes,” she replied. “I spoke to Shawn Gutierrez — he’s been holding down the fort for me — this morning to let him know we’d be staying here for one more day, and he was all right with that, but I could tell he didn’t want to be stuck in charge for much longer.”

“It can be difficult to find adequate lieutenants,” Zahrias said then. “I can rely on Dani to manage things for me if necessary, but he is going to be rather preoccupied very soon.”

She had no doubt of that. “So…are djinn babies any different from human babies?”

“If you’re asking whether they cry less or whether their diapers need to be changed less, I fear the answer is no.”

Was that a hint of a smile touching Zahrias’ mouth? Yes, she thought it was. She wished he would smile more often, because it brought a warm light to his dark eyes that seemed to illumine his whole face.

Julia found herself smiling in return. Then she realized maybe that had been a miscalculation, because his expression sobered, even as his gaze fastened on hers, eyes locked so she couldn’t look away…not that she wanted to.

Deliberately, he set his glass down on the coffee table next to the wine bottle before taking a step toward her. Then another. Now she could see little flickers of flame beginning to dance around him, as if he couldn’t hold them back any longer.

He was so close, not even an arm’s length away. Was she still breathing? She couldn’t tell for sure. The room was absolutely quiet, even the logs in the hearth not crackling away, although she could have sworn she’d heard one of them give a loud
pop
not a moment earlier.

His voice was hardly more than a harsh whisper. “I swore to myself I would not do this.”

“Do what?” she asked. But of course she knew the answer.

“This.”

Then he was right there, his arms going around her, pulling her close, his mouth on hers, tasting her, and heat seemed to explode in her core, in the very center of her being. She was melting into him, tasting the darkness of the wine on his tongue, breathing in something sharp and aromatic, possibly a perfume that clung to his heavy silken robes.

God, he was strong. Not because he was holding her too tightly, but more that she could feel the heaviness of the muscles in his arms and chest, the coiled power there. She’d never been with a man who felt like this. Ian, her late fiancé, had been in shape, but lean and slim, a runner and a tennis player. And Margolis —

No, she wouldn’t think about him. She hadn’t been
with
him, anyway, only forced to endure his touch. Better to let herself drown in Zahrias’ kiss, to drink in every sensation, from the brush of his hair against her cheek to the heat that seemed to pulse from every inch of his flesh.

Very gently, he lifted his mouth from hers. His hands cupped her face, so tender, fingers warm and strong against her skin.