A wicked shot of heat rolled through his groin. A dark desire he usually had to work to conjure. But this came suddenly, without force, without the magic he always needed to become aroused. The realization caught him off guard more than the fact she’d passed out on him.
It would make things easier, he told himself. It didn’t mean anything. Pushing the thoughts aside, he ran the damp towel along her forehead. “Wake up, azizity. I’m not here to hurt you, only to pleasure you with your wish.”
And corrupt your soul to feed the immortality of one evil sorceress.
He ignored that thought too. Dwelling on it would get him nowhere. And he was as much a victim in this as she was. More so, because she’d asked for it.
Slowly, her head rolled to the side, the muscles around her eyes tightened; then she blinked several times before opening those mesmerizing eyes and looking up at him. It took several seconds before recognition dawned, but when it did, her eyes flew wide all over again. She pushed up on her arms and scrambled back into the corner of the couch. “Oh my God.”
“Relax, azizity. All is well.”
Her gaze shot from him to the kitchen and back again. “I wasn’t hallucinating.”
He chuckled. He sorta liked this human. Even with her odd reactions. “No, you most certainly were not.”
“I… You… This…”
Still scared, he realized. There was only one way to fix that. Even though it was a risk, he sensed unless he took this chance, they were going to circle around each other and never get down to business. And that wouldn’t help his brothers.
“Listen to me, azizity. You have the power here. I have none. I’ll show you. Brush your fingers over the opal at your chest.” When she only continued to stare at him, he added, “Go on. Nothing bad will happen. I promise.”
Cautiously, she brought her fingers toward the opal, then touched it gently, caressing the stone in such a way he felt the vibration in the very center of his chest.
Which was weird. Because even though he was bound to the stone, he wasn’t connected to it physically.
Before he could ponder what that meant, he was flying across time and space, then materializing back where he’d started.
Sunshine-laden walls and comfy feminine furnishings gave way to drab gray, cold stone, and iron bars. The guard outside his cell whipped around when he heard Tariq appear, narrowed his eyes, and shot a look toward the chains in the wall.
Contempt brewed in Tariq’s chest. Even in his cell, they didn’t trust him. Not after he’d attacked Zoraida’s guards upon return from his last assignment. And this guard had to realize he was back sooner than anticipated, which meant he’d failed.
Hopefully not. Hopefully his assignment possessed that human characteristic that made his job possible, even if she was different from all the rest.
Curiosity.
The guard took a step toward the door, his jaw hardening. Metal clanged as he pulled the sword from the sheath at his hip. But before he could get the key in the lock, Tariq was flying again.
Relief whipped through him. As awful as it was to be forced against his will, spending time with the woman was a thousand times better than being locked in that cell. Or punished.
He materialized again in the middle of her living room. She was sitting up on the couch, her eyes still wide, a lock of hair brushing her cheek. But like he’d hoped, her fingers were once again brushing the opal near her breasts.
“Where…where did you go?” she asked.
“To my world,” he answered, not moving from his spot. Not yet. He didn’t want to do anything to spook her. “My realm exists on another plane. The opal is the doorway through which I cross. And you, azizity, are the key master who either summons or sends me back.”
“Whoa.” She pressed a hand to her head. “I feel like I’ve fallen into a twisted version of the Ghostbusters Only I don’t remember any of the actors looking like you.”
He chuckled again. Because her reactions were not at all what he expected. “You seem surprised by this. Were you not instructed in what to expect from the Firebrand?”
“Yes. I mean, no.” She raked a hand through her long hair, the soft strands falling against her cheeks and shoulders like waves of silk. “I mean”—she looked up at him—”all I knew was that the opal had power. That it could make wishes come true. Not that it housed a gen—” Her cheeks brightened. “I mean…you.”
Shocked and cautious but observant. Another interesting reaction. “And now that you know, do you wish you’d made a different choice?”
“I don’t know. How does this work? You’re djinn. Isn’t that like…a demon?”
Add smart to her list of attributes. He sat on the ottoman of a nearby plush chair. “Djinn are as old as angels. We are spiritual beings who take on solid form. Like humans, some are good, some are evil, and still some are benevolent. My brothers and I hail from the Marid tribe. We are the most powerful djinn, but we are also the ones you want on your side.”
“Do other djinn…besides you…cross into the human world?”
“Yes. Frequently. Many are fascinated with human behavior. They camouflage themselves, allowing them to remain unseen as they cause trouble. As spirits, it’s easy to influence humans to do one thing over another. Think of it like the devil sitting on your shoulder, whispering in your ear. You can’t hear him, but he’s there.”
“Well, that’s comforting,” she mumbled, glancing toward the floor.
He smiled again. He did like this human. He normally didn’t feel compelled to give this much information, but she was truly interested, and he also sensed without it, they’d never be able to move on. “Some of us don’t relish causing havoc. We grant wishes. Which, you have to agree, is a good thing.”
Her eyes slid to his, and he saw the hesitation in their hazel depths. And for the first time in all the years he’d been doing this, a shot of guilt spiraled through his stomach.
“So how does it work?” she asked. “The wish? Do I tell you what I want and that’s it?”
Guilt was replaced with another wave of heat rolling through his groin. A heat that was again a surprise. “Yes, azizity. Your wish is my command.”
He knew what was coming. Some twisted female fantasy where she had all the control and he was forced to pleasure her in whatever perverse way she wanted. The scenes changed from woman to woman—sometimes he was ordered to act as a Viking, other times a soldier, even others a pool boy—but the end result was always the same. He did whatever, wherever, and however they wanted. No matter how humiliating it may be for him.
Her cheeks turned pink, and she looked back down at the carpet again, twisting her fingers together. “Oh.”
As he sat in silence, waiting, he couldn’t help but be taken aback by her reaction. Why wasn’t she telling him what to do? Why wasn’t she already commanding him? Her embarrassment was so different from the other females who had summoned him. By this point, most were already naked, laid back like an offering, waiting for him to get on with it. And yet she sat across from him, embarrassed by what she wanted.
“There’s nothing to be apprehensive about, azizity. I am yours to command.”
Her eyes grew wide just before she covered them with her hands. “Oh, boy,” she mumbled. “This is so not what I was expecting.”
Heat arced through his pelvis again, and this time…the thought of acting out those fantasies didn’t turn his stomach. In fact, thinking about acting them out with her excited him in a way that left him feeling the slightest bit…confused.