Darkness, Kindled by Samantha Young
“Something I thought may be of interest to you.”
White raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“I’ve been watching the girl’s home as you requested. I just witnessed the Roe Hunters remove Charlie Creagh from it.”
“The boy is coming here to die then?”
Rabir nodded with a smug smile.
“And rumor has it, Azazil owes the girl a favor.”
He let Rabir’s news settle on him and percolate.
A rush of feeling exploded through his veins. He felt himself again for the first time in weeks. Thank all the emeralds on Mount Qaf for his Rabir. The man was smarter than all of his royal brothers put together. What Rabir had just brought him was the game changer. It could deliver him everything he’d wanted.
He gave Rabir a respectful bow of his head. “I think perhaps it’s time we procured you a royal title, my friend.”
***
It wasn’t fair that someone should suffer so much grief in less than a year, but that was life. And that was definitely Jinn life.
In the end, Ari cried herself to near unconsciousness, barely aware of Jai carrying her up to her room where he tucked her into bed so she could sleep and block out the pain for a while.
Instead of the mind-numbing relief of deep black, Ari dreamed.
Somewhere Ari could feel the dreams like an unnatural pressure in her head, but that feeling was overwhelmed by the images in her mind. She floated from dreamscape to dreamscape—from Sandford and Vicker’s Woods with Charlie, to Cincinnati Zoo with Derek, to Arizona with Fallon. And then Pazuzu was there, splicing her, lashing her, shouting his threats of forever in her face until she fell to the ground, only to have to watch as Pazuzu slashed Jai to ribbons, cut Trey’s throat, and wiped a hand across the sky to reveal the faces of Michael and Caroline and the rest of the Roe Guild Hunters. Her heart literally stopped when Rachel and Staci appeared in the group.
Pazuzu was taunting her. Letting her know that all the people she cared about were going to die for what she’d done to him.
Their faces and voices lambasted her with color and sound and pain.
And just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, they swirled and blurred into a funnel, a vacuum, disappearing into a black that quickly transformed to a scene so vivid, it was like it was happening all over again.
Azazil’s palace. Azazil himself.
Ari glanced up at him before her.
And Asmodeus. He stared at her with a strange intensity.
She was going to die. They were going to take the Seal from her …
She fought to control her breathing and relax the way Jai had taught her. Sacrificing herself meant Lilif would be kept imprisoned. Surely that was worth the sacrifice?
But if she offered to sacrifice herself and there was a chance that she actually made it out on the other side, she was getting something of worth out of it.
“Come any closer and I’ll command Azazil to kill you before you make a move,” Ari told Asmodeus softly.
The room darkened as Azazil’s energy thickened with what Ari assumed was his anger. “What do you want?” he asked shrewdly.
Ari drew in a shuddering breath. “If I die, you save Jai and let him return unharmed to his Tribe.”
“Done.” He nodded, his expression one of utter boredom.
Ari narrowed her eyes. “And—”
“And?” Azazil sat forward, his eyebrow raised in haughty enquiry.
“If I do this willingly … and I live …then I get to call in a favor.”
“I thought that was your favor.”
“No, that was a gesture of good will.”
He smirked. “If your favor then is for the sorcerer … I cannot save him if he kills the Labartu. I am sorry. That is out of my hands.”
Dammit. Ari forced down her helpless tears. They were of no use to her here. “Fine. But I still want a favor if I survive. And I want your oath that you’ll give me whatever it is I ask of you.”
She flicked a gaze at Asmodeus to see his eyes gleaming at her again, as if he almost … respected her in that moment.
And as she turned to find Azazil’s answer, she saw he was smiling, as if enjoying himself immensely. “You have my oath that if you survive, I will grant you a favor, if it is within my power to do so.”
“Done.”
Asmodeus was a blur, his glowing fist crashing down into her chest before Ari had even blinked. Shocked agony tore through Ari as his dark eyes bored into her pleading ones. I am sorry, his voice whispered inside her head. Or had she just imagined it?
It was with relief that his fist withdrew from her, light pulsing between the cracks in his fingers. They uncurled slowly, and the throbbing ball of ember in his palm was the last thing Ari saw before the sweet relief of dying pain swept her away on its tides …
Ari clawed her way through the dark and forced her eyes open.
Her hand automatically searched her chest for the pain.
Just a memory. She closed her eyes in relief until she remembered Michael had arrested Charlie.
Charlie was going to die.
And Pazuzu was still out there, plotting and planning to destroy her and the people she loved. He might not be the only one. Some Jinn still assumed she was the Seal …
No, Ari, her subconscious whispered.
No? She opened her eyes again, her hand still on her chest.
The favor.
Of course. She bolted upright. Azazil owed her a favor. Suddenly, the images from her dreams filtered back to her until the last one danced in front of her eyes, taunting her. It was the one of her dad, Derek, standing outside their home in Sandford Ridge, teaching her how to throw a punch properly.
An idea started forming, an idea that caused her heart to race and her blood to rush. Ari threw back her covers and got out of bed, steadying herself on shaking legs. It was risky. It was possibly impossible … but it might change everything. And Azazil did owe her a favor.
This would be one helluva favor.
But Ari needed to do it.
As Shakespeare once said, “It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.”
9
Unravel Me
Ari dressed quickly and quietly. Now that her decision was made, she needed to move fast. Who knew how little time Charlie had left?
Tiptoeing out of her room, Ari froze in the hallway, ears pricked as she listened to the house. It was dark out here and down the stairs, suggesting everyone had gone to bed. Closing her eyes, Ari let her magic push to the fore and she felt outward with her energy, seeking others. It wasn’t long before she encountered the familiar taste of Jai’s extraordinary aura, meaning he was sleeping in his own room tonight to give her some space. A pang of emotion, of heartfelt gratitude and love, echoed in her chest. Ari pulled back her energy from his in case he suddenly sensed her.
Sending her feelers out again, Ari discovered a presence she’d been hoping was hanging out at the house. On silent feet, Ari headed down the hallway to Trey’s room and held her breath, listening for any sound.
Nothing.
Trey? Are you in there?
A beat later … Ari?
His bedroom door swung slowly open to reveal him standing in boxer shorts, his hair a mess, his eyes blinking back sleep. “You—”
Don’t speak!
She held up a hand and glanced down the hall to Jai’s room. When she turned to Trey he was frowning, and he’d crossed his arms over his lean, athletic torso in a “I’m not to be messed with right now” kind of way. Can I speak to my uncle?
Trey’s frown deepened. What’s going on? What don’t you want Jai to hear?
Trey, Glass. I want to speak to Glass.
Before Trey could answer, a large hand appeared above Trey’s on the door and pushed it open. Glass towered above a very tall Trey, his long cerulean hair loose down his bare back. For a moment Ari was distracted by the sight of the two impossibly gorgeous men standing together, and sh
Ari, what is it?
Glass telepathed, his tone as grave as his expression.
Ari braced herself. I need you to take me to Azazil.
Glass gave her a sharp, curious look but unlike Red, he didn’t question her. All right. Now?
Please.
Very well. He looked back at Trey and touched his cheek tenderly. Whatever passed between them caused Trey to glower and he turned to Ari.
What the hell is going on?
She grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight. Trust me, okay. And please … don’t wake up Jai. This will all be over soon and I’ll be back.
Trey looked unsure. He’ll kill me if anything happens to you and I didn’t do anything to stop this.
Nothing will happen to me. Glass will take care of me.
Trey shot a look at Glass, clearly wanting to believe her. She could tell by the way the lovers gazed into one another’s eyes that they were having a telepathic conversation. It ended with Glass giving Trey a small, dignified nod of his head, suggesting to Ari he had promised him something. At that, Trey pressed a kiss to the corner of Glass’s mouth and then turned to draw Ari into his strong embrace. Be careful.
***
“When my son communicated to me that he was on his way with my granddaughter, formerly known as the Seal, I admit to finding myself somewhat surprised.” Azazil smirked at her, the streak of blood on his cheek distracting.
Upon arrival at Azazil’s palace,
Ari and Glass were quickly ushered into a part of the structure Ari had never seen. Clearly, it served as Azazil’s torture chamber. It was also clear that he’d deliberately remained in it for her visit to shock her. And when he told Glass to leave her with him, to leave the palace entirely, it was clear he also wanted to frighten Ari. Glass, of course, had obeyed his father, and now Ari was alone. Well, unfortunately, no matter how shocked or frightened she was, Ari did not have time for it. Her friend’s life lay in the balance. And Azazil was all about balance, right?
Focusing on Azazil’s ponytail of long, white silk hair, she replied, “I needed to see you.”
“Let me guess—you miss being the Seal?”
“No.”
He shrugged and lay down the small, jewel-handled dagger in his hands. “You’re tired of these visits from Asmodeus and would like me to have a word with him?”
Feeling impatient, Ari shook her head. “No. I mean, yes, I’m tired of his visits and I would really appreciate him staying away from me, but that’s not why I’m here. I’m here … I’m here about the favor you owe me.”
That got his attention. “Oh. That pesky thing.” He turned to face her full on. “Well? What is it you want, child? Out with it.”
Ari drew in a shuddering breath.
“You can turn back time, right? You can change a person’s path in life.”
Every muscle in the Sultan’s body tensed, his eyes alert as he took one intimidating step toward her. “Why are you here?”
Needing to make a statement, Ari took a step toward him rather than cower back from him, and she saw the surprise flicker in his dark gaze. “I want you to change my past. Change it so that Sala never left me at Derek Johnson’s in Sandford Ridge when I was a baby.”
Azazil cocked his head to the side in thought. “What path would you prefer?”
“Don’t rewrite me a new one. I want to continue on in my life as it is, with all the people in it. However, I want the threads with Pazuzu, the Ghulah, and the Labartu to change. Like they never knew about me, never met me or the people I care about. I want Derek’s, Charlie’s, and Fallon’s lives to be different, and this is the only way I know how.”
“Do you know what you ask of me? It is much, Ari. It is very much. You are asking me to create a new reality for these people without affecting your own. You want me to create a new reality without causing too massive a domino effect.” His eyes narrowed. “You do realize that if I did this, only mortals would be affected by it. Derek, Mikey, Charlie, and Fallon. And Fallon, being a half-blood, will remember this reality as well as the new one I create. That’s asking a great deal of her. It’s asking a great deal of me. It will exhaust me, Ari. It will drain me. I’ll have to make sure that every new path, road, and thread that this change creates does not have an effect on the bigger picture. There’s always a chance I don’t foresee everything, and something monumental might occur. Something irreversible. Is that the kind of responsibility you’re ready for?”
She nodded, her heart pounding so hard she thought a rib might break.
He shook his head at her. “Why am I not surprised that the favor you ask be so colossal? You are White’s daughter. Of course it is colossal. There is a great deal of danger in what you ask.”
“It’s the favor I’m asking. You said you’d grant me a favor that was within your power to grant me. You just said you could do it. So … will you?”
As Ari waited for his answer, she once again tried to ignore the blood splatter at the edge of her vision and the groans from the dying man strung up at the edge of the small room. Packed dirt was hard beneath her feet, the bare rock walls devoid of emeralds and glistening with dank moisture. Low light from candles scattered throughout gave it a gothic, sinister atmosphere. Damp earth, sweat, and the coppery scent of blood tingled Ari’s nose.
Her own blood rushed in her ears as she stared up at Azazil, awaiting his answer.
His black eyes narrowed on her, his thoughts impossible to discern. With a huge sigh, he looked away, his contemplation falling upon the man he had been torturing before Ari arrived.
The Sultan wore no jewelry and his usual ostentatious style was muted—he wore only dark leather trousers and leather bands around his wrists. His muscled, naked torso was covered in blood and little bits of torn flesh. Ari dropped her gaze, feeling her stomach turn.
“I’ve laid out the consequences,
Ari.” Azazil looked back at her now and that fist of anxiety twisted in her chest. “Are you sure you understand what I’m saying?”
She nodded. “I understand. Are you saying you’ll grant me the favor you owe me?”
His lip curled at the corner, his eyes glittering. “I should either kill you or applaud you for using the oath of a favor against me. This is no ordinary favor. It will affect us all … and I am unusually blind to the consequences. I see vague images that I cannot make sense of.” His features hardened. “All I can feel is that if I grant you this favor, something of great immensity will come to pass. Something that will affect my realm and the mortal one, not just me and you.”
His prophecy made her stop. It was one thing to suggest the possible consequences and another to prophesize an actual gigantic change. “In what way?”
“I told you I cannot know for sure.”
“So it could be good or bad?”
“Is anything ever just good or bad?”
The man at her side groaned again, and Ari winced. “I don’t suppose you’d let this guy go too as part of the favor?”
Azazil scowled. “I grant you this favor and I might not be able to do much of anything for a while.”
That in itself was reason enough to do it. Ari nodded. “Do it.”
The Sultan crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know whether to risk the consequences of breaking my oath to you or go along with this insanity.”
“I thought you liked insanity. It’s entertaining, right?”
That produced a slow, wicked grin from her grandfather. “This is true.” He dropped his arms and strode toward her, the majesty of his power threatening to blow her off her feet. “You win, Ari. I’ll grant you your favor.” He smirked. “Let the realms have mercy on us all.”
Suddenly, nausea took hold of Ari as her vision went in and out, the room shaking in a jarred blur back and forth. But as her vision refocused and the nausea retreated, Ari realized it wasn’t her eyesight. With a shiver she glanced around her new surroundings.
Azazil had shifted them both to a huge bedchamber she assumed was the Sultan’s.
“Privacy,” he murmured, and that was the last thing he said before he braced himself against the elaborately carved fourth post of the mammoth bed.
Uncertain what was happening, Ari opened her mouth to speak but stopped when Azazil closed his eyes.
She blinked, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.
His body flickered in and out as his fingernails dug into the wooden post. “Arggh!” he groaned between clenched teeth.
Shadows pooled into the room, filled with the hiss of electricity. Ari’s breathing grew shallow and she took a tentative step toward the Sultan only to feel an immense, painful pressure push in on her temples.
The pain blinded her and Ari cried out, falling to her knees. Her arms folded over her head as she tucked it into her body, praying for the pain to stop. She let out another scream, trying to relieve the pressure … but it seemed to go on forever, until her body began to sway toward the black …
Yes … the black where there was no pain.
And then it stopped.
The whole room stilled beneath her and Ari let her arms fall, tears streaming down her cheeks as she lifted her heavy head and gazed up at Azazil. What she saw shocked the very breath out of her.
“Your Highness?” she whispered hoarsely, still feeling the throbbing waves of remembered pressure at her temples.
Azazil glanced over at her as he slumped toward the floor. “Done,” he whispered.
He was so pale. And not just pale. Hollows sunk beneath his eyes, shadows stretched across his torso, a torso once powerful and muscular, now lean and frail.
“What have I done?” Ari murmured, more tears falling.
The Sultan tried to wave a hand at her, but his wrist flopped with the effort.
It suddenly occurred to her there was a wave of magic pooling behind her and Ari twisted around to look at the double doors to Azazil’s chambers.
“Asmodeus …,” Azazil whispered.
“Been trying … to get …in. Too weak … to take … down enchantme …”
Afraid of Asmodeus’s reaction but even more afraid for the Sultan, Ari waved an exhausted hand at the door, feeling the energy that blocked the lieutenant out. It was a binding spell, not a very strong one if you were in the room with it, but outside … it might take Asmodeus too long to take it down. Ari felt the ember burst across her palm and she held it up and outward toward Azazil’s spell. With a little focus, she felt it fragment and two seconds later, the double doors blasted off their hinges.