determined features told
him she wouldn’t drop this demand until he complied. And though he
didn’t want her to see the lash marks, he knew they weren’t going
to finish what they’d started until he appeased her.
He turned his back toward her.
“Take off your shirt,” she said.
He unbuttoned the shirt he wore, shrugged
out of the short sleeves, and let the rayon fabric fall around his
waist.
Mira gasped.
He
looked over his shoulder. Couldn’t see anything but Mira’s shocked
eyes and her hand covering her mouth. “That doesn’t sound
encouraging, hayaati . You’re
supposed to say, ‘It’s not that bad.’”
Her heartsick gaze shot to him. But there
was no humor in her voice when she dropped her hand and said, “Who
did this to you?”
He looked away, at the bed across the salon
he still wanted to tumble across with her. But that clearly wasn’t
going to happen until they talked. And he had a feeling once they
did and she learned the truth, tumbling anywhere with him was going
to be out of the question.
You have to choose. Her or your brothers .
“Tariq,” Mira said again when he didn’t
answer. “Who did this to you?”
“Zoraida.”
“Who’s that?”
“My master.”
Mira sank back to sit on her heel. “The
person who controls you. The one who sent you here to me.”
He tugged his shirt back on, turned to face
her. Knew that she had to be wondering how and why and what it all
meant. Knew, when he looked into those glittering hazel eyes, that
he was going to tell her. “A sorceress. One who used magic to break
down the walls between our worlds. One who”—and here was where it
got sticky—”tricked me.”
“How?” Mira asked, tucking her feet up under
her as he pushed to his and started pacing.
Moving at least gave him something to do
besides wonder what she was thinking. But the salon was so small,
there was very little room to move. He raked a hand through his
hair. “I’m the eldest of three sons. My father, the king—”
“Wait. Your father’s a king?” Shock ran
across Mira’s face, slowing his feet. “That makes you a—”
“Prince. Yeah. Or at least, I was one.
Once.” He shook off the thought, resumed pacing. The open shirt
flapped against his stomach. “War is constant in our realm. The
tribes are always fighting, seeking power. My brothers and I were
all soldiers in the army, but as the eldest, it was my duty to
assume the throne. I didn’t really want it. I liked being with the
troops more than I did commanding them. But our father hasn’t been
the same since he was injured in battle several years ago, and it
was time. I was selfish, though. I asked for one last mission. He
agreed—reluctantly—and sent me and a handful of soldiers up the
Jagged Coast. Several villages had been ransacked by Ghuls. We were
supposed to eradicate the Ghuls, restore order, and return me to my
throne a hero.”
“What happened?” Mira asked quietly.
“Zoraida fooled me.” He thought back to how
naïve he’d been. How young and easily coerced. How stupid. “She was
in a bar in one of the first villages we freed. The soldiers were
celebrating. There were females from the village there that night.
Lots of females, ready to show their appreciation for what we’d
done. She was one of them.”
“She seduced you.”
Was that jealousy in her voice? Tariq
couldn’t tell. And he couldn’t dwell on it, because in a minute, it
wouldn’t matter.
“She used magic over me,” he said. “I didn’t
know it at the time, but I realized it as soon as it was over. When
the magic wore off, I saw her as she truly is. Not beautiful and
magnetic as I’d envisioned her to be, but frigid and deadly. The
raids on the villages—they were all traps. She commands the Ghuls,
has since she came into our realm, only we didn’t know. She knew my
father would send one of his sons to oversee the battles, and she
needed a royal djinn from the strongest tribe to complete her goal:
to
him she wouldn’t drop this demand until he complied. And though he
didn’t want her to see the lash marks, he knew they weren’t going
to finish what they’d started until he appeased her.
He turned his back toward her.
“Take off your shirt,” she said.
He unbuttoned the shirt he wore, shrugged
out of the short sleeves, and let the rayon fabric fall around his
waist.
Mira gasped.
He
looked over his shoulder. Couldn’t see anything but Mira’s shocked
eyes and her hand covering her mouth. “That doesn’t sound
encouraging, hayaati . You’re
supposed to say, ‘It’s not that bad.’”
Her heartsick gaze shot to him. But there
was no humor in her voice when she dropped her hand and said, “Who
did this to you?”
He looked away, at the bed across the salon
he still wanted to tumble across with her. But that clearly wasn’t
going to happen until they talked. And he had a feeling once they
did and she learned the truth, tumbling anywhere with him was going
to be out of the question.
You have to choose. Her or your brothers .
“Tariq,” Mira said again when he didn’t
answer. “Who did this to you?”
“Zoraida.”
“Who’s that?”
“My master.”
Mira sank back to sit on her heel. “The
person who controls you. The one who sent you here to me.”
He tugged his shirt back on, turned to face
her. Knew that she had to be wondering how and why and what it all
meant. Knew, when he looked into those glittering hazel eyes, that
he was going to tell her. “A sorceress. One who used magic to break
down the walls between our worlds. One who”—and here was where it
got sticky—”tricked me.”
“How?” Mira asked, tucking her feet up under
her as he pushed to his and started pacing.
Moving at least gave him something to do
besides wonder what she was thinking. But the salon was so small,
there was very little room to move. He raked a hand through his
hair. “I’m the eldest of three sons. My father, the king—”
“Wait. Your father’s a king?” Shock ran
across Mira’s face, slowing his feet. “That makes you a—”
“Prince. Yeah. Or at least, I was one.
Once.” He shook off the thought, resumed pacing. The open shirt
flapped against his stomach. “War is constant in our realm. The
tribes are always fighting, seeking power. My brothers and I were
all soldiers in the army, but as the eldest, it was my duty to
assume the throne. I didn’t really want it. I liked being with the
troops more than I did commanding them. But our father hasn’t been
the same since he was injured in battle several years ago, and it
was time. I was selfish, though. I asked for one last mission. He
agreed—reluctantly—and sent me and a handful of soldiers up the
Jagged Coast. Several villages had been ransacked by Ghuls. We were
supposed to eradicate the Ghuls, restore order, and return me to my
throne a hero.”
“What happened?” Mira asked quietly.
“Zoraida fooled me.” He thought back to how
naïve he’d been. How young and easily coerced. How stupid. “She was
in a bar in one of the first villages we freed. The soldiers were
celebrating. There were females from the village there that night.
Lots of females, ready to show their appreciation for what we’d
done. She was one of them.”
“She seduced you.”
Was that jealousy in her voice? Tariq
couldn’t tell. And he couldn’t dwell on it, because in a minute, it
wouldn’t matter.
“She used magic over me,” he said. “I didn’t
know it at the time, but I realized it as soon as it was over. When
the magic wore off, I saw her as she truly is. Not beautiful and
magnetic as I’d envisioned her to be, but frigid and deadly. The
raids on the villages—they were all traps. She commands the Ghuls,
has since she came into our realm, only we didn’t know. She knew my
father would send one of his sons to oversee the battles, and she
needed a royal djinn from the strongest tribe to complete her goal:
to
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