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For a second she lay on top of her uncle, staring into his astonished eyes.

“What just—”

Go! Ari demanded. I can handle her. I’m immune to the seal.

Realization dawned in his eyes and with a reluctant nod, he disappeared. Ari smacked into the ground with a painful grunt.

“You do realize that I will have to kill you now,” Lilif hissed, and Ari flipped over to find the wench striding casually toward her. “Not only are you immune to the seal but you can protect others from it. I am—how is it you young people say today?—pissed. Despite what you think, I do not like to kill my own people. You’re forcing me to this.”

Knowing Lilif was no longer playing and that whatever was coming next would be the end of her, Ari drew everything she had left and expelled her curse magic, guiding it toward Lilif. Somewhere in the space between them, it hit a wall.

That wall was Lilif’s magic.

Sparks of ember shot out of the point of impact as sweat rolled down Ari’s forehead. Her arms and legs shook with the effort to maintain the force of the attack, and to Ari’s utter delight, Lilif’s face began to grow strained. She saw confusion and uncertainty flicker in the ifrit’s eyes and Ari decided to play on it. Sometimes, when the physical left you, all you had was the psychological, and sometimes, especially on psychos, it was a better defense than any.

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.”

Chapter

Fourteen

An Old Street, New Sidewalk

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.


Tags: Samantha Young Fantasy