How he could manage that, he had no clue.
But Duvalli would know.
Keeshan stilled at the thought. The Dark Djinn could remove the
temptation. Duvalli could release her from the power of the incantation. A
flicker of hope kindled in his heart and then died.
Duvalli could. But would he?
“Are you hungry?” he asked and was relieved when her
expression shifted.
She put a hand on her belly. “I am.”
Yes, he was relieved when she allowed him to distract her,
to lead her back to the banquet hall and tempt her with a dizzying array of
delights.
He was especially relieved when she forgot all her questions
and allowed him to kiss her again. Allowed him to seduce her again.
He shouldn’t have. He shouldn’t have done it. But he
couldn’t resist. Not when she was near and willing. And the magic of the lamp
was working away on him, eroding his resistance.
He made love to her on the pillows surrounding the banquet
table. And then he made love to her on the banquet table. He made love to her
until they were both exhausted. She, too exhausted to think of any more
ridiculous, annoying questions. He, too exhausted to contemplate the fate
awaiting him should he allow himself to fall in love. Again.
It was, in all likelihood, inevitable. If nothing else, the
past two thousand years had taught him that.
There was only one answer. Only one way to escape that doom.
He had to ask—demand—that Duvalli release her from the incantation.
And refuse to take no for an answer.
Keeshan stepped out of the mist into a cold, dark chamber.
Flaming urns on either side of the great hall cast the only light, along with
ominous, flickering shadows. But he knew there was nothing much to see. The
Dark Djinn’s audience chamber was a tomb, inaccessible except through magical
means.
And the devil who reigned here lounged, in all his
malevolent glory, on the throne, flanked by his two slavering hellhounds. He
was a large man, made larger by the import of his sortilege. His dark-hooded
cloak only added to his ominous appearance. His features had changed little
over the years but his dark eyes were harder, colder and glittered with
familiar malice. His nose was a proud, bold slash. An elegant tangle of magical
tattoos swirled over one side of his visage.
The Dark Djinn had been a powerful man two thousand years
ago. Keeshan could only imagine how strong his magic was now, after centuries
of ceaseless study and practice.
He had tried and failed to thwart the spell that bound him.
It became stronger with every attempt.
Duvalli glanced up as he sensed the disturbance, this
emergence of familiar energy. His gaze lit on Keeshan and a smirk tugged at one
side of his stark mouth. “So. A new dove has come. Has it been a hundred years
already? My how time flies.” Keeshan growled in response and Duvalli chuckled.
“What’s wrong,
Sir
Keeshan?” He used the appellation Keeshan hated, one
that reminded him of the man he’d once been. The knight he’d once been. And
never would be again. It was the Dark Djinn’s way of mocking what he had
become. “Is she not a beauty? Did the lamp finally bring you an ugly woman?”
“She is beautiful. They all are.”
“They are all beautiful to
you
.” The amusement melted
away. Keeshan knew he was thinking of his sister. Duvalli never forgot about
Circe. Then again, neither did Keeshan.
How he hated these audiences. Even though he could visit
Duvalli’s demesnes whenever he wished—and he never wished—he was only called into
the Dark Djinn’s presence once a century. He always dreaded the audience.
“So.” Duvalli peered at Keeshan down the length of his
arrogant beak of a nose. “Have you fucked her yet?”
Keeshan bristled. “That is none of your business.”
“You’ve fucked her.” Duvalli affected a sigh. “You never
could control yourself. You are one horny son of a bitch, Sir Keeshan. Did she
like it? Beg for more? Oh wait. Of course she did. You used the incantation.”
This was not a question but when a red tide rose on Keeshan’s cheeks, Duvalli
laughed, a harsh cackle. “Let me guess. She appears in your chamber and less
than a minute later you’re drawing your lust spell all over her body.” He spat
onto the stones at his feet. “The little whore was probably crawling all over
you—”
“Do not call her a whore.” Keeshan’s nails etched his palm.
It was all he could do to keep from slamming his fist in Duvalli’s stony face.
A dark brow rose. “My. What a tone. If I didn’t know better,
I would think you were challenging me.”
Annoyance, impatience, desperation riffled through him.
Keeshan opened his mouth and a command just…slipped out. “Release her from the
incantation.”
Duvalli blinked. Keeshan had never dared command anything of
him before. Ever.
“What?”
A cold trickle of fear dribbled through his bowels but
Keeshan ignored it. What could Duvalli do to him that he had not already done?
How much worse could it be? He steeled his spine and snapped, “You heard me.”
The Dark Djinn stared at him for an echoing eternity and
then barked a harsh laugh. “Never say you are going soft, Sir Keeshan.”
“I want you to release her from the incantation.”
“Ridiculous. Why would you want to free her? That spell
guarantees she cannot resist you.”
“I don’t want her like that.”
“It’s never stopped you before,” the Dark Djinn scoffed.
“Things are different now. I want it to be her choice.”
Duvalli studied him in silence, tapping his lips. “Don’t be
an idiot. If the incantation is broken, it will be broken forever.”
“Good.” Keeshan’s response was not far from a sneer. He was
weary to the bone of his life in the lamp. Weary to the bone of sex that meant
nothing and never could.
Duvalli’s lips curled into a travesty of a smile, a mockery
of nonchalance. His entire body was taut, vibrating like a bowstring. “Imagine
it. Eternity trapped in the lamp with no way to make the women accept you.
Constant, infinite lust. And no release.”
“Release her,” Keeshan snapped. Anguish clawed at him and
the true reason for his roiling fear slipped out. “Every woman who has given me
her heart under that incantation spent the rest of her life in misery.”
His nemesis smirked. “You ruined them for other men.”
“That was hardly my fault. You are the one who sent them to
me. You carry this onus.”
“Technically, I had nothing to do with it.”
“You wove the spell!”
“But the Great Djinn chooses your consorts. We can only
assume there are reasons for each choice. But do not fret about them.” The Dark
Djinn forced a grin. It was not a pleasant sight. “No doubt when they moved on,
into other incarnations, all your women were able to find a modicum of
happiness with other men.”
Keeshan’s heart stuttered. “And your sister? Did she ever
find happiness in other lives?”
Duvalli’s complexion mottled. His tattoos glowed a furious
crimson. “You know damn well the mirror will not show her to me.”
Keeshan rocked back on his heels. He could tell he was
making no progress with the Dark Djinn. He rarely did. But he still had one
argument left. “So tell me, Duvalli. What is the difference between your sister
and these women the lamp brings me?”
“What?”
“Would you condemn Circe to Aimalee’s fate? To be sent to
the lamp? To be compelled to want me?”
Duvalli stood in a rush, his cloak swirling around his body.
He fairly hummed with rage. He stormed down the stairs of the dais, stopping
short just inches away. He glowered down upon his captive, drawing back his
shoulders and thrusting out his chest. Keeshan refused to be intimidated by
such petty theatrics. He had been a prisoner of this Djinn for far too long. If
Duvalli could harm him, he would have done so long ago.
He firmed his chin. “Release her from the incantation.”
Apparently Duvalli found his lack of trepidation annoying.
“Stop saying that,” he spat, spinning around to pace across the chamber. The
dogs tracked him with leaden eyes, their heads moving as one. “
I
cannot
remove that enchantment. You should know better than to ask.”
“Then ask the Great Djinn.”
Silence, cold and hard, settled over the room. The stark
fury on Duvalli’s visage stunned Keeshan. Not because it was fury—he’d seen
plenty of that from this man. But because it was laced with something else.
Something that looked like…fear. Tension crackled and spit between them.
“No one asks anything of the Great Djinn.”
“He’s the one in charge. He’s the one who controls this
realm.”
“What do you know about it?”
“I know enough. I know he’s your master.”
“I am the Great Djinn’s agent.”
“Agent?” Keeshan laughed. “You became his slave the day you
cast your spell on me and we both know it. You became entombed here, right
along with me.”
“A price I would gladly pay a thousand times over to make
you suffer,” Duvalli said.
“Circe is gone.”
“Don’t you dare say her name.”
“She was released to the great wheel of incarnation two
thousand years ago. How many lives has she lived since then? How many were
happy lives?”
The Djinn snarled. “How many great loves has she had since
you?”
If this was an attempt to strike at Keeshan’s heart, it
missed the mark. “I do not care if she has loved other men.”
“Because you never loved her.”
“Because I love her still. I want nothing, nothing but her
happiness.”
“You killed her!” His bellow rocked the room.
“I did not kill her.”
“Your love killed her.”
“
I
did not kill her.” Silence seethed around them
like a nest of hissing vipers. And then, “How did she die?”
“Go to hell.”
“I am already there.”
“You are only getting what you deserve.”
Keeshan steeled his spine. “Perhaps you are right. I deserve
this torment.” He glanced up and caught Duvalli’s gaze. “But
she
does
not. Release her from the damn incantation.”
The Dark Djinn went pale. “I cannot,” he said through
bloodless lips. “Stop asking!”
“Release her! Re—”
Duvalli held up his hand, cutting him off mid-word. “Do not
say it again. If you don’t want that woman to be compelled to fuck you, then
don’t draw the damn incantation.”
Keeshan’s gut dropped. Not draw the incantation? When the
lust claimed him, he did not have the strength to resist. He never did. “You’re
the one who wove the spell in the first place. You know that’s not possible.
Release Aimalee from that damn incantation and do it now!”
Duvalli seemed to deflate then, that great hulking creature.
His face fell and his shoulders crumpled. He walked slowly back to his throne
and sat with a boneless thud. He wiped his palm over his brow and muttered an
invective to himself. “You are the most stubborn man I have ever known.” He
shrugged, his countenance suddenly a moue of supreme disinterest. “You make me
weary, Sir Keeshan. Be gone.”
With a flick of the Dark Djinn’s fingers, his prisoner was
drawn back to his cell.
Duvalli was, once again, alone.
He glared for a long while at the place Sir Keeshan had been
standing, brooding over their exchange. Did the bastard have any idea what he’d
done? Judging from Keeshan’s anger when he left, Duvalli thought not. Hopefully
the good knight had forgotten his lessons. Forgotten about the Power of Sevens.
He probably had. Two thousand years was a really long time.
He would realize soon enough, when he tried to draw the
incantation on his latest little concubine. He would realize that part of the
spell, at least, was broken.
Served him right for being so damn insistent. By simply
repeating his request seven times, Keeshan had lost the one tool he needed to
battle the lust of the lamp.
How long would it take him to figure out the rest?
Duvalli’s mind roiled.
Irritation and…some other emotion swirled in his gut. He
needed a release.
At his gesture, the curtain to the antechamber rose.
“Come,” he commanded. And obediently,
she
entered the
great hall. Duvalli allowed himself a self-satisfied smirk as he watched her
cross the chamber, her head down, hands folded demurely at her waist, the way
women held themselves in her time. She would not be so demure in a moment, he
resolved.
She stopped before him and lifted her eyes to his. They were
brown and beautiful and lushly lashed…and absolutely indifferent as she
surveyed him. “You summoned me, my master?” The words, from her lush,
berry-ripened lips, in her husky voice, sent a shudder down his spine.
In response he spread his legs and opened the flap of his
breeches.
She knew what he wanted, what he needed, just as he knew she
would comply.
She always did.
She had for centuries.
Keeshan returned to the lamp to find Aimalee in the sleep
chamber, curled in a ball and weeping. He fell to his knees and wrapped her in
his arms and held her until the racking sobs stilled. “What is it?” he asked,
kissing her temple.
It took her a minute to catch her breath, to be able to form
words. “It’s-it’s Carter.”
Keeshan’s brow furrowed. Damn Carter. How he wished Aimalee
had never met the bastard. But then if she’d never met Carter, she wouldn’t
have found the lamp. And he would never have found her.
But still. Carter was an ass.
“What about him?”
She gazed up at him, her lashes bedewed with tears. He had
the not-so-fleeting urge to wring Carter’s scrawny ascot-swathed neck. “I saw
him.”
Keeshan’s heart lurched. Surely she hadn’t—
“I asked the mirror.”
Oh hell. She had.
“I asked the mirror to show me Carter and-and…”
He pulled her closer, rocked her back and forth. “What did
you see?” He had to ask though he did not want to know.
“I’m not sure. It fogged over before I could see
everything.”
Keeshan sighed. “It does that.” Damn mirror. If he did not
know the mirror was a soul as enslaved as he was, as ensorcelled and entombed,
he would smash it into smithereens. But the mirror had no choice. Like all of
them, it had to dance to the piper’s tune. Had to obey. “The mirror is obliged
to show what is asked and compelled to fog over just as emotions begin to
rise.”
“That sucks.”
His lips quirked in a tiny smile. “Yes. The only way you can
watch is by remaining dispassionate. Which is virtually impossible.”
“Can you help me?” Damn. She was so beautiful, her soul so
pure, shining through.
He cleared his throat in a rumble and steeled his spine.
“What do you need?”
She shifted around on his lap, suddenly enthused. “I was
thinking… If it’s the emotion of the
asker
clouding the vision, maybe
you could ask the mirror to show you Carter. I could sit beside you in the room
and watch. Then maybe my emotions won’t cloud things up.”
Keeshan stared at her, unsure how to respond. Damn it all
anyway. Magic didn’t act like that. It wasn’t situational. There were no
cheats, no tricks that could outwit a spell.
But she was so hopeful, he hated to refuse outright.
It was probably for the best. Let her see how fruitless this
quest was. Maybe then she would stop trying to catch a glimpse of the man she
should never have loved. But…
What if it worked? What if she saw Carter in all his
selfish, misogynistic, faithless glory?
Could she bear it?
Could he?
“Aimalee, I don’t think that is a good idea.”
Her hope crumbled.
Why did that send a shard through his heart?
He was supposed to be heartless.
“Can we try, Keeshan? Please?”
He buried his face in her shoulder. What was it about this
woman that he could not resist her slightest demand? He knew he could distract
her. He knew all he had to do was draw the incantation on her flesh and she
would be so overcome with lust she would forget about Carter and her brilliant
idea and become obsessed with only him. And he wanted that. He wanted that so
badly he could taste it on his tongue, even as he tasted her.
But he was determined to resist the temptation. He had to.
He cared too much to force her to want him. He cared too damn much. And that
frightened him to death.
She must have sensed his weakness, his consent, because she
wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him, splattering kisses over his
cheeks. “Oh thank you! Thank you. I just want to see him again. I just want to
see him.”
“I know.”
Damn. With all his heart, Keeshan hoped the mirror would
behave. Show her something innocuous. Something mundane. Carter shaving. Carter
on the toilet. Carter watching the television box. Anything but… Anything but
that
.
He stood and helped her to her feet. As they walked to the
mirror room, Keeshan had the strangest sensation they were walking to their
doom.
She must have felt it too. “Will you hold me?” she asked.
Keeshan raised her hand to his lips. “Certainly.”
He settled himself on the wide chair, arranging her on his
lap. She settled in, wriggling until she got comfortable, which only made him
more uncomfortable. He was cursed with a near constant hard-on whenever she was
around and having her warming his lap was a torment beyond words. But for her,
he could tolerate it. At least for a while.
The lust was beginning to rise again. Clawing trails of
arousal snaked through him, bubbled and spat, heightened his tension. He bit
his lip against it and hardened his resolve.
But honestly, he did not know how long he would last. It had
been hours since he’d been inside her.
“Shall we?”
His brain seized and then he realized what she meant was,
“Shall we ask the mirror?” In the depths of his imagination, she was asking for
something else entirely.
“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Mirror. Show me Carter.”
There was a brief of hesitation as though he had surprised
the mirror with this unfamiliar request. Keeshan almost always asked to see
Circe or Lisette. But the mirror could not refuse the request. The dark glass
faded and a scene began to coalesce.
“Hold me,” she said in a small voice.
Keeshan wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. She
snuggled closer, her focus trained on the mirror. She shivered so he rubbed her
back until she relaxed.
“Here it comes…”
A windowed room appeared. A large desk. Orderly shelves
filled with pristine, untouched books.
Aimalee bent forward. “That is Carter’s office. But…”
The door opened and Carter entered, followed by Sorcha.
Keeshan cringed.
Damn.
Carter crossed to the desk and extracted a bottle of Scotch
out of the bottom drawer. He poured two generous glasses and handed one to
Sorcha. “Do you think she suspects?”
Sorcha snorted. “She thinks you walk on water.”
“Still…”
“She doesn’t have a clue.”
Aimalee tensed. Keeshan resumed his stroking.
Carter threw back his drink and poured another. “She didn’t
show up last night. I mean, I expected she’d be put out. Asked to miss the
opening and all. But she didn’t even finish the display.”
Sorcha ran a long-nailed finger around the lip of her glass.
“She’s pouting. Let it go.”
“She didn’t come in this morning. She never misses work.”
“She’ll get over it.
Aimalee sighed. “See. He misses me. He’s worried.”
Keeshan merely grunted in response because now Sorcha was
moving closer to Carter. And she had
that
look in her eye. Keeshan had
seen it more than once.
But Aimalee never had.
It didn’t take long for her to realize things weren’t as
they seemed. Her body tightened as she caught the furtive move Sorcha made with
her hand. Keeshan nearly cursed out loud. The bitch was stoking Carter. Right
there in broad daylight.
Carter grabbed Sorcha’s wrist. “Not here,” he hissed.
“Yes, here, lover,” she whispered in his ear. She moved
closer still, close enough to dart her tongue around his ear. Carter, the weak
bastard, threw his head back and groaned.
Keeshan cleared his throat. “I think we’ve seen enough.”
“No!” Aimalee clutched his tunic. “I want to see it all.”
“No. You don’t.”
She frowned at him, filled with resolve. “I must.”
Together, they turned back to the mirror. To the vision of
Sorcha unbuttoning Carter’s shirt and scoring his bared chest with her nails.
Carter whimpered. “Someone could come in.”
“Fucking let them,” Sorcha snarled. “I want you. On your
knees. Now.”
Whether or not Carter complied—Keeshan rather suspected he
did—they never discovered because Aimalee leapt from his lap with a cry and the
mirror fogged over.
“What happened?” She shook the mirror a little to try to get
the image back.
“Don’t bother,” Keeshan said. “Emotion has clouded the
vision.” He couldn’t tell her it was his fault. His emotion, his anger, his
pain the mirror had sensed. Because when Aimalee hurt, somehow he hurt too.
She spun on him, lips in a pout. “Did that really happen or
did that stupid mirror just make it up?”
“The mirror tells only the truth.”
“How do you know?”
“It is compelled to do so.” He stepped closer and wrapped
her in his arms. “Are you all right?”
She wrenched away with a growled no and his heart stuttered.
Damn it. He should never have let her watch this. He should have known…
“I am so
angry
.”
Keeshan stilled.
She was angry? Anger was good. It was a hell of a lot better
than heartbreak. He almost felt relieved. Almost.
“Can you believe that-that bitch?”
“That bastard!” Keeshan felt the urge to add.
“Can you believe they…? Oh my God.” She raked her fingers
through her hair and paced the room. “They’re having an affair. Right behind my
back.”
It was all Keeshan could do to hold back a snort. Behind her
back but just barely. There had been many times when Aimalee had nearly walked
in on them. They had not been terribly discreet.
“He is not good enough for you. He never was.” He tried once
more to pull her into his arms. She allowed it but only for a short while.
Again, she twisted away to resume her furious pacing.
“And there I was feeling so guilty. So damn guilty for
wanting you.” Oh, how she spat the words. “And annoyed at wanting you. At being
made to want you by that damn spell. And all along he was fucking her. I’m so
mad I could spit.” She glared at the mirror. “I should smash that damn thing.”
“It’s not the mirror’s fault.” Keeshan had to bite back a
smile. This wasn’t the time for a self-satisfied smirk but her words made him
want to grin like a monkey.
She wanted him.
His mood, and other things,
began to lift. He took her arm. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
Still muttering, she allowed him to lead her onto the
sweeping patio. The moon had risen, splashing pale light across the panoply.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they strolled into
the night. It was time to distract her, he thought.
Well past time.
But he did not draw the incantation. He had another, better
plan in mind. “Beautiful night,” he murmured.
She started. “Huh? What?” She glanced around.
Infinitesimally, she relaxed. “Yes, it is.”
“Far too beautiful for such a dark mood.”
She frowned at him but he could see her natural humor
bubbling to the fore. “It’s never too beautiful for a fit of pique.”
“Well,” he chuckled. “If anyone deserves a fit of pique, it
is you, my dear.” He gestured at the vases in the alcoves along the wall.
“Would you like me to stand aside while you smash something?”
She tried to swallow a laugh but failed. It came out
suspiciously like a snort. “Don’t amuse me. I am trying to be annoyed.”
“As you should be.”
She fell silent as they came to the balustrade. She leaned
against the cool stone and gazed out at the shimmering sea. “Should I be
angrier, do you think?”
Keeshan quirked a brow. “Are you not angry?”
“I am.” Her teeth nibbled at her lower lip in a way that
captured his imagination. “But not as angry as I should be, I think.” She
propped her chin in her palms and contemplated the peaceful vista. He was loath
to interrupt her thoughts. She was working it through. She needed to work it
through.
But he could not keep from touching her, providing at least
some comfort. He teased her nape and she sighed.
When she glanced at him there were tiny tears on her lashes.
“Do you suppose I really loved him?”
“Only you can answer that.”
She shrugged and looked back at the sea shushing silently in
the distance. “I wonder. He was the first man who paid me any attention. Maybe
that was it. Maybe I was in love with love. It was so exciting and…I was lonely.”
“I find that mind-boggling. You are the most beautiful woman
I have ever known. And I’ve known many.”
Aimalee fixed him with a wry stare. “Now
that
I find
mind-boggling. Besides, you don’t really
want me
want me. I could be
ninety with boobs down to here and you’d still want me. Remember the
enchantment? The one that makes me utterly irresistible to you?”
He bristled. “I have been resisting you.”
She snorted a laugh. “And thank you so much for that.”
“I didn’t say it was easy.” He yanked her closer and kissed
her. Her mouth was like nectar. He let himself linger, tasting and nibbling and
feasting on her essence. He knew, just knew, when the passion snared her too.
Her body warmed in his arms and she made tiny tormenting movements, nudging her
hips against his. His cock grew harder—it always was hard—but the throbbing
became steadily more intense.
Keeshan eased away. He had to. They still had something
important to discuss. And he wanted to make something crystal clear to this
little minx.
“Aimalee, earlier you said you were feeling guilty for
wanting me.”
“Yes.” She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him again. “I
don’t feel guilty now.” This she proved by boldly running her nails up his
chest and scraping a hard nipple.
Keeshan cringed. Damn. She was making it hard to focus.
She always made it hard.
He captured her wrist. Needed to stop this torment so he
could focus. Think. “You said you were annoyed the incantation made you want
me.”
“Yes.” She guided his head down and nibbled on his neck.
“I’m not annoyed now.”
She bit him. Gently, but still… All logic flew from his
head. Lust rushed in to fill the space. He wanted nothing more than to bend her
back over the balustrade, lift her leg and slide inside…but there was something
he needed to say.