Saving Her Destiny (13 page)

Chapter Fourteen

The cabana blew off them, flying who knew where, and the heat hit Duncan, feeling like one of Jupiter's lightning bolts. The scream flung him backwards like an explosion.

Cara's arms were out at her side, and the air charged as the scream poured out, like she was being crucified. The winds whipped around them, a swirling sandstorm that pelted Duncan all over.

“Cara! Cara!”

The winds took her.

He tried to grab on to her, but it was too late. The sandstorm wrapped around her a tornado of dust and debris, and blasted through the desert.

“Cara! Cara!” Duncan leaped into the air, wings out and ready to fly, but he couldn't get anywhere near the storm, the winds were so powerful. He flew after the core, where he could vaguely make out Cara's body, floating in the center in the same pose as the funnel whipped around her on all sides.

It was too fast. He couldn't keep up…

Wind slammed against him, the energy throwing around everything imaginable. A shiny object headed right for him, and he realized he was about to be beaned in the head by the meat and cheese tray.

The tray made contact.

And everything went black.

Chapter Fifteen

Duncan rubbed his brow, where a bandage was wrapped around his head. Damn stitches itched. Sunshine poured over the sea. The water was calm, pretty.

Soothing, or so people said.

He hated the water.

So why was he sitting here, on Cara's rock again?

“Any word?” a familiar voice said from behind Duncan.

He'd been staring out at the water, trying to wrap his mind around what happened. He still wasn't sure.

Hell, he didn't think he'd ever really understand. How could a scream be that powerful? Did they build over time when not released? Or were they
always
that powerful? And why had the desert taken her like that? Had she done that, or had that come from some element he didn't know about?

And where was she? What happened to her?

He'd tried everything he could think of. Even consulted the books while waiting for a release from the Healer's Ward. Nothing had any explanation for what happened. Or if it ever happened before.

Surely, something like that would have records. Cara couldn't be the first banshee that had ever happened to.

Yet there was nothing.

Figured.

He would still be in the desert looking for Cara, but there was no sign of her. He'd hardly been coherent when Reese found him lying on a sand dune, and they'd rushed him to a healer. How long it took between when he blacked out to when he was found, he wasn't sure exactly.

Just that the sandstorm was gone. So was the cabana.

All of it had been erased, swallowed by the desert.

And so, it seemed, had Cara.

He glanced over his shoulder. Reese stood there, dripping with water. His wings were fully extended and he flapped them out, blocking all the sunlight around Duncan.

Seemed fitting.

Duncan's head throbbed, and while he knew a good cup of Fairy Tea would fix the injuries, but he didn't want to drink it. He wanted the wounds. The scars.

A remembrance of Cara—like the tea itself. He didn't know if he ever wanted to drink any of that stuff again. Ever. Just the smell of it would make him think of Cara.

Always
.

Reese stepped closer and took a seat on the rock.

It was right where Cara would sit. Duncan hadn't been able to bring himself to take her spot. Seeing Reese sit there, he wanted to punch him. Clobber him. Something. Yet he didn't have the energy.

The frustration that filled his heart warred with the anger in his soul. He'd lost Cara.

Lost her
.

Every moment he tried to make himself cling to the hope that she was out there, and someone would find her, but he knew better.

He couldn't feel her. Different than how he couldn't find her in the Merrow Kingdom. At least then he'd had a vague sense that she was still alive.

This was worse. It wasn't that. That whole touch of her soul seemed gone.

Made him angry. So angry.

He should have held on.

He should have—

“The merrow are fine.” Reese's words broke into Duncan's barrage of thoughts. Of course, he'd been having them nonstop, so he wasn't going over anything new.

“Evidently, Norton had planted several bombs. Not as destructive as what the banshee—”

“Cara,” Duncan snapped. She wasn't just a banshee. She was Cara. And now she was gone.

“Sorry. What
Cara
could have done, but they might have killed the royal family. Hence, Cara's scream.”

Duncan clenched his fists. “He made a Catch-22.” He'd like to pummel Norton. For about a year.

That was the least he'd torture that heathen, trying to use Cara like that.

Reese nodded. “He might have succeeded, if you hadn't found her too. The merrow managed to diffuse the bombs before they went off, and they all returned to their homes, everyone with the happies now.”

Like Duncan gave a shit right now. All he wanted to know was that Cara had been found. And that Norton paid for his crimes.

“He been executed?”

“They're taking him to the Knights Templar because he had other mythical partners. They'll find out who and then carry out execution.”

Duncan nodded. He'd worked with the immortal humans before when fairies teamed up with other mythicals. They were decent guys.

But he wouldn't want to piss one off.

“O'Leary's looking for you.”

Duncan sighed. “I know.” The last thing he wanted to do was deal with his boss. He didn't want to deal with anything right now.

How could the world turn so horrible in a little over a day?

“We have FID combing the desert looking. There's no sign of her,” Reese said softly.

“I know,” Duncan said. The hope in his heart diminished by the hour.

“Has anyone talked to her family?” Reese asked.

Duncan shook his head. “I'll do it.”

Chapter Sixteen

Did I fly?

When the scream released, it pulled Cara away from Duncan and whirled her around
.
At least, that was what she thought. So jumbled, she wasn't sure what it was. Or maybe it was just a dream…

It felt like the scream's force held her aloft like a sonic blast. It hurled her through the air, stirred all the sand, and carried her away.

Though where it took her or how long it lasted, she didn't know. Only that it stopped, and she was lying back in the hot sand.

And what the hell was happening to her feet—was a dog licking her?

The sun felt warm and soothing on her body, and even with her eyes closed, she turned her face toward the light, letting the warmth bathe her. So much nicer than the cold of the sea.

She felt warm.

Hot, even…

She crossed her arms and—

Holy crap, she was naked.

In the middle of the desert. And there was that weird licking again. She twisted and pulled her legs away.

At least she tried to.

But her legs were held tight—as she blinked in the blinding sunlight, she saw a red blob near her feet.

It took a second, but it came into focus.

Cara screamed at the sight—what the hell was that thing? “Help! Let me go! Stop!”

Hey, she had a voice.

She'd marvel over that in a moment. Right now, she had a monster attacking her feet. Beyond the weirdness, it couldn't be good. She tried to pull herself away, but it held on. All she could make out was the torso, shoulders and head. The rest of the beast? She couldn't see it.

Was it burrowed in the sand?

Didn't matter. The upper part was ferocious enough, and it was—

“Quit!” She tried to kick at it as a long, serpent-like tongue burst out of its mouth and licked the bottom of her foot.
Eww! So gross!

“Stop it, now!” She tried to pull away and started flinging sand at the beast. Nothing fazed him. He continued licking her feet like some sicko with a fetish. With each lick, she felt woozier and woozier. Like he was sucking the life out of her.

No way. I am not dying now. Not after what I just went through…

Sitting up, she tried to reach for it, but it wouldn't let go, and was just too far away. If only she'd taken those yoga classes with her sister, she'd be able to reach her toes.

The creature made an eerie hissing noise that scraped across her eardrums and made her cover her ears.

“Stop it! Stop it!” The adrenaline rushed through her system, and it had to be the only thing holding her upright as she kicked as best she could with her legs. Though it was more like her knees trying to pummel the creature. And it wasn't working worth a shit.

A burst of wind made her shield her eyes from the flying sand.

“Tsk tsk, Sarsour,” a male voice said. “You know better than this…”

Cara turned and in silhouette was a man. And wait. Was his skin blue?

What the hell?

“I needs it… I needs…” the beast said at her feet, and he yanked on Cara again, his tongue flicking out.

The blue man leaned over, and Cara realized what he was. Her breath caught—she'd never seen a live djinn before.

“You're a—”

He raised his eyebrow. “And so is he.” He gestured at the beast at Cara's feet.

The one hanging on her feet was like no djinn she'd ever read about in school. Of course, there weren't a lot of genies on Avalon. As a matter of fact, they were those “textbook mythicals” she read about in school, ones that would likely never step foot on Avalon. Like yeti and chupacabra.

He grabbed Cara and yanked her into the air, as though she were a coffee cup, pulling her out of the beast—Sarsour's—grip, and tossed her over his shoulder.

As soon as he'd pulled her away, all her strength zapped from her body. She could barely think, only marvel at the fact she was on the shoulder of a bare-chested, blue skinned djinn.

Djinn…

Djinn…

How many different kinds were there?

She couldn't remember. She never paid much attention in school because she knew she'd be stuck on Avalon for life, so she'd never cared about mythical beings in other realms.

Stupid!

She'd kick herself if she wasn't in this bizarre predicament. She wracked her brain, trying to remember how many different kinds of djinn there were. And didn't colors mean something? Red, gold, blue, green?

She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't make it work. Was this exhaustion or something else? Had she lost her voice again?

The beast on the ground hissed. “You can't have her, Malik! Sheee's mineeee! I needs! I needs!”

“You want her?” Malik said. “Take her.”

“No,” Cara cried out as she grabbed at the blue torso.

With a wave of Malik's blue hand, Cara rose into the air, and a bubble wrapped around her. At least, she thought it was a bubble until she realized her foot dangled out the bottom, wrapped in a string.

Malik waved the string in front of Sarsour.

Good god, he'd put her in a balloon. What kind of sick, twisted bastard does that?

The beast watched the string like a hypnotized cat—and like a cat, his claws came out, his eyes narrowed, ready to pounce any second.

Cara curled into a ball in the bottom of the bubble and tried to pull her foot free.

It wouldn't budge.

“Stop this,” Cara said.

Malik glanced at her, a smirk on his face. “As you wish.”

The bubble disappeared, and she dropped to the ground in front of the beast again, but this time, on her feet.

Both the beast and the blue djinn were eyeing her. She wasn't sure who was more dangerous looking, either. So she bolted.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that running was probably both her best choice in the moment, and the worst thing she could have done.

Because they both took off, the beast on her first, flinging her into the ground.

“I needs…I needs… So pure!” He licked the back of her knee as his slithered toward her feet again.

But Malik wasn't far behind. “That is enough. I think this little one has been through plenty this day.” Magic swirled around his hands and moved over to Sarsour. Malik pulled his hands together, and the magic started to wrap around the red djinn. Malik squeezed the beast into a ball, held it aloft for a moment, then punted it across the desert. It flew so far Cara never saw it hit the ground.

Then she glanced at him. “You did that on purpose.”

“Yes. I love drop-kicking
palis
djinn. They're like silly little pets.”

“He was sucking on my feet.” She remained face down in the sand, so that the worst the djinn saw was her butt. At least she kept some semblance of dignity. Not that he hadn't already seen everything.

Ugh, could she just bury herself in the sand?

“That is how he draws out your energy. Like a vampire, but not so bloody.”

“Well, thank you for running him off. Now, can you help me?”

“I don't know, can I?”

“You're a djinn, right, like a genie? Don't you have to grant my wishes?”

He smirked. “Only if you control my bottle. And I see no bottle in your hand.”

It felt like she tried to deal with the devil—that twinkle in his eye looked quite menacing—but what choice did Cara have? She rolled over, covering herself with her arms. “I need to… Well, I need clothing.”

“Ahh, but your tan will be most lovely if you remain naked.” His gaze ran over her.

“Listen, I have to get out of here. I don't know where I am. Will you help me?”

“Perhaps. For a price.”

Maybe the sun was beating her brain in, because the next words out of her mouth sealed her fate. “Whatever you want, I'll do it. Please, just help me.”

Malik raised his black eyebrow. “Be careful, young one. You of all people should know we djinn cannot be trusted.”

“And why me of all people?” How did he know who, or what she was?

“You are a mythical—a banshee.” He sniffed the air, then gazed at her again. “And merrow. An interesting bloodline you have there, child. Why would such a water-oriented mythical be lost in the desert?” A sinister grin spread over his face. “You should know better.”

An eerie feeling swept over Cara. “What choice do I have?”

“Therein lies the question. What choice would you have?” His smug look reminded her of a confident god or goddess who saw everyone's cards at the poker table.

Unfortunately, Cara saw none.