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Authors: Nabila Anjum

No answer.

 

“Then again, maybe this all a part of your rather charming disposition”, I mumble to myself. Judging from the sudden tightening of his jaws, I know it had come out louder than I had intended.

 

No answer. Which was becoming fairly predictable, I must say. I had come to know the man quite a bit in the last three days. He was a man of few words, had a permanent frown etched on his,,, let's call it an uncommonly beautiful face, and he scowled rather fiercely. He could also snarl with matching zeal when someone dared to disobey his orders. All in all, a fiery snarly fellow.

I can handle fiery snarly fellows. But the quiet ones drive me crazy.

 

“Sir…. Sir….. Caleb…”.

 

He yanks his hair in a fairly commendable expression of extreme frustration.

 

“What the hell did I do to deserve this?” he mutters, scowling at the rear view mirror.

 

"Well, for starters you turned up naked in my room…”, I begin, only to be abruptly silenced by another one of his death glares.

 

Honestly, the guy could really use a little more cheerfulness in his life. All this glaring was making me,,, antsy.

 

“Hmm, I guess it was a rhetorical question”.

 

No answer.

 

We sit in an oddly companionable silence for the next three minutes, before he brings the car to an abrupt halt in front of a small house, leaving skid marks on the pavement.

 

Before I can inhale the next much-needed breath of air or begin to contemplate ways of escaping the mad man, he jerks open the passenger door, and signals for me to leave the car with an impatient frown. I briefly entertain the idea of dragging my feet to delay him further, but one look at his narrowed eyes makes me re-evaluate my situation. I really shouldn’t aggravate it further, I was practically at his mercy, in his country. And from the looks of it, he knows it only too well.

 

A minute later, we're standing on the outer end of a small wooden door, while the man…. Caleb, is unleashing the full force of his fury on the doorbell. I open my mouth to urge him to stop before his anger disarticulates the poor inanimate object from the switchboard, but I restrain myself. Better the doorbell.

 

The door finally opens to reveal an irate looking, damp-haired brunette about my age, carrying a kitchen knife in one hand and a skillet in another. From the twin set of matching angry scowls on her and Caleb's faces, I conclude that she is the sister.

 

“What the hell, Caleb. Do you think I’m superman?” she snarls, in a manner remarkably similar to her brother’s, and I also conclude that perhaps, surliness runs in the family.

 

Caleb doesn't dignify that one with an answer and quickly ushers me in before shutting the door behind him.

 

The sister turns her attention to me, giving me the…. What do you call it? The once over, yes the once over.

 

“Who is she?” she asks, with a thick layer of suspicion on top.

 

"Your new roommate", he answers succinctly and lets out a sigh that speaks of long-suffering, before reaching his neck to loosen the tie. I can tell that the sister isn't too happy with that response.

 

"I can find my own housemate, thank you very much for your concern. And anyways, where did you find her? She isn't American, and before you explain
, I’m
not keeping any of your strays in my house”, she finishes rudely and I huff in righteous indignation.

 

“Look, she’s not an American and she’s new here. Let her stay here until I can make proper arrangements for her elsewhere’, he answers, making me sound like his concubine. In an abrupt change of pace,
I
glare at
him
in a hopelessly misplaced effort to convey my displeasure. Hopeless, because he doesn't even bother pretending to be perplexed. He just ignores me, the rude, cold, brutish, ras….

 

“Arrangements? ARRANGEMENTS? OH MY GOD, CALEB. Have you bought yourself a paramour from that place you’ve been, Albino.. albino,,, albawhaterverthehellitwas. I’ve heard they sell sex slaves there", she concludes dramatically, drawing her skillet in animated circles in direct contrast to her brother's serene expression, who continues to regard her with a vaguely misplaced sense of amusement and a pair of bemused, quirked eyebrows.

 

Enough is enough. I decide to finally introduce myself, before the girl’s rampant imagination runs any further away.

 

“It’s Albania, and we haven’t sold women for several years now. And I’m Alena Badour. Nice to meet you”, I say, not feeling nice at all. But then, I do have some manners, unlike the brother-sister duo before me. I extend my right hand to her, which she grasps with ill guised wariness.

 

“Nice to meet you too", she mumbles embarrassed, and I smile in triumph. Finally, some good manners. At least the girl can be salvaged. Her brother, now? He's another matter altogether.

 

 

“Sorry for being rude, but you haven’t still answered my question. What exactly are you doing here? Are you a student?”

 

“Oh, of course, of course, I’m sorry. No, no, I’m not a student, but I’m hoping, very much, to become one. I’ve heard they have some excellent colleges here.”

 

She continues to observe me with a disconcerting frown for a minute or two, before blurting out “Are you in love with my brother? Is that why you’ve followed him here?”

What an odd question. Has that really happened before? I shift my attention to the man in question, Caleb, who quickly shoots me a pointed stare followed by a quick shake of his head, which I decide to ignore, just to give him a taste of his own medicine.

 

It was my reputation, after all, which was at stake here. The sister is clearly delusional to believe any sensible female would be willing to fall for her brute of a brother.

 

I finally decide to put an end to her questions and tell her the truth, “Heavens no. Absolutely, positively not. That’s not why I’m here. I’m here, you see, because I don’t really have a choice. It’s customary to accompany one’s husband, and since I’m your brother’s wife, I….”

 

I trail off, and watch in shocked amazement, as she passes out on the floor after hearing the word wife, and Caleb delivers a veritable string of profanities to the room in general.

 

I sigh in helplessness. Well, that escalated quickly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aidyans

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

I didn’t understand this. Not one bit. And what I couldn’t understand, I rarely liked.

 

The conclave was called two days ago, and the senators had to shuffle a lot of priorities to make time. I had shouldered the brunt of their wrath, since calling for an emergency conclave meant an assembly of irate Aidas and Seers thrown in with the Roohs. The unexpected travel across the globe was enough, under the best of circumstances, to warrant an outburst. But Damaras had taken it one step further and called for a collective council. Which meant all fifty six senators were presently clustered in the same room.

 

The Aidas were not the problem. They were taught from birth, not to exercise their inherent abilities unless threatened, and since Aidyan’s had been peace loving creatures, none of the Aidas attempted mind manipulation anymore. Seers were the most placid of us all, even though their minds received a lot more exercise than Aidas. They were always looking into the future, always warning the conclave about a possible threat from the humans or a superior breed of Aidyan’s with nefarious plans. Since Aidyan’s were long extinct, the focus had shifted solely on humans with extrasensory perception, and the council had its own breed of seers which were appointed for this purpose. Aidas and Seers got along well enough, they weren’t the problem of the conclave.

 

Roohs were.

 

Roohs or peepers, as they were more commonly called, were the most annoying race of Aidyan’s. They were always alert, habitually annoying, and a general nuisance for anybody who didn’t like their minds being peeped into. Roohs had no control over their skills, they were constantly eavesdropping into other’s thoughts, and the general consensus was that they liked it this way. They were imperative to ferreting out secrets from the enemy, but were more notorious for digging the secrets of the other senators of the conclave. Roohs were gossip mongers, the lot of them, and loved nothing than to create fresh scandals and disgracing fellow senators. And if they caught an elderly senator dreaming about a nubile side piece, or contemplating a potential affair, well then…. God help that senator.

 

IT was for that reason, that I, like many other senators, was reciting the Persian alphabets in my mind, starting from alif to ye, then back to alif, in that order.

 

“I’m impressed brother, sincerely impressed. Most of the other senators have moved on to A for apple, B for balls, but I admire yours”, whispered Aaron, the Rooh’s Ali, and the main reason I was stuck with with alif, be, the. The three Alis were required to sit next to each other, behind the senior conclave. It was a pain in the ass to be seated next to him, but the conclave rules demanded we sit together as a show of solidarity. And as an Aida Ali, I had to put up with the snoop. But that in no way meant, I’d have to make it enjoyable for him.

 

I tilted my head towards him, raising my eyebrows in mock consternation and replied “You don’t like Persian, snoopy doobey do?”

 

“Not when I have to listen to it non stop for two hours”, he scowled, not making eye contact. We were supposed to be paying attention to the conclave, not barking at each other. But senator Elmas did not seem in the mood to stop his verbal hypnosis anytime this millennia, and the Roohs had been scaling the wide field in search of some new interesting trivia for some time now. And not succeeding, if Aaron’s present demeanor was any indication.

 

Since irritating and insulting him was one of my life’s petty missions, I grinned at him before shrugging “Then get out of my mind. Do something fruitful for once.”

 

“Like what”, he snapped, clutching both sides of the arm rest with his fingers. Honestly, the long tedium at the council was enough to raise any sane man’s hackles, but the sheer inactivity was taking a toll on the roohs.

 

“Would you two chill? Damaras had been eyeing you both, and he looks a bit peeved”, commented Alida, the Ali of seers. Aaron turned his gaze towards her, and I watched in amazement, as her beautiful milkmaid skin turned a bright blushing red. Alida had harbored a mad case of lust for Aaron ever since she had awakened. She called it
hormones
. I called it insanity.

 

From the corner of my eye, I watched Damaras, who was indeed eyeing Aaron, as he folder his arms around Alida’s shoulders, and whispered in her ears, loud enough for the backbenchers to hear “That’s not peeved, princess. That’s catatonia you see in Damaras’ eyes, because your grandfather just won’t shut up”, he drawled unabashed, before placing a swift one smack on her lips.

 

Did I mention Roohs were the most arrogant narcissistic race you’d ever come across?

 

The conclave gasped in unison, throwing hateful glances at him, while Aaron
just smiled
and looked perversely pleased with himself. Alida looked comical, almost in a daze. And though I was generally against such public displays of affection, I couldn’t fault him on this one. At least senator Elmas was distracted enough to pause mid speech, and gape like a fish. However, he did manage to collect himself and sniff the air in his steorotypical self-important pompous manner a while later,
before adding, “
Mr Stavros, perhaps you’d like to share your thoughts with the conclave, since you no longer appear to be interested in mine”.

 

The senators directed their glares towards the three of us now and I had this uncomfortably strong urge to maim Aaron, before strangling him.

 

Although after that impossibly long speech, I doubted I had that kind of energy left in me.

Aaron snorted beside me, and I knew I’d made a slip. Damn it.

 

“I apologize senator Elmas, I meant no insult, but I’m sure the conclave is wondering as to why we’ve been summoned together like this, in such haste”, he smirked, while several conclave members started gasping and choking and talking simultaneously. Even Damaras looked apoplectic, but I couldn’t detect a change in Alida’s expression. The girl looked entranced, like she’d just been shown the gateway to heaven.

 

 

“And you’ve appointed yourself as the voice of reason”, barked Alec, Elmas’ personal body guard of sorts and the most imbecile Aydan I had ever had the misfortune to meet. The guy was nothing like Aydan, but what he lacked in brains, he more than covered up in muscle.

 

“Nope, but you could call me the voice of valor, if you like”, he replied thoughtfully, stroking his chin like a 20
th
century Hollywood villain. I sighed in exasperation and he grinned at me.

 


I don’t want to fight the hulk, can’t you keep it quiet just this once’.

 


Nopey dopey. This is the most fun I’ve had in the last…. What… three hours? I’ve wasted three hours on this god forsaken chair, waiting for Dumbledore to quit it. I want to know why we’re here.

 


I’m sure Damaras will tell you, before he murders you. And shake Alida will you, the girl’s in a trance.’

 

He smirked at me once again, before turning and nudging her shoulders gently.

 

“What, what”, she gushed, looking here and there, like a lost kitten.

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