“It was necessary, you know,” he said. “Necessary you stop before it’s too late.” Which wasn’t an apology, but the fact that he felt compelled to explain himself was an enormous change.
David growled, deep in his throat, and I stilled him with a hand on his cheek, still looking at Ashan.
“Thank you. I won’t expect it again,” I said. I saw a flash in his cool eyes, and he bent his head a fraction of an inch.
And then he misted away, and his bodyguards followed, giving me a range of stares from curiosity to anger.
One faded in. Venna, still in black. I curled closer to David, taking comfort in the heat of his body, the strength of his embrace. I was shaking all over, and couldn’t seem to stop. It wasn’t just physical injury. I’d come close, so desperately close—in some indefinable way, I felt more fragile now than I ever had, despite the fact that I’d won.
I wouldn’t have wanted to show so much vulnerability to Ashan, but it was different with Venna. She’d seen me crying, filthy, beaten, broken. She’d never made judgments, not in the way that Ashan would.
I felt the soft touch of her hand stroking my hair.
“You had to win alone,” Venna said. “I am sorry. I couldn’t help. It was a human matter, not for the Djinn.”
I gulped air and nodded. David wasn’t so understanding. He let out that low, vicious growl again, and Venna sat back on her heels, clearly taking the warning very seriously. I couldn’t tell if it angered her, but I doubted it. She seemed to understand his desperation.
She studied the two of us with a sorrowful and composed expression, like a graveyard angel. “Your enemies are much worse than you are. You should be prepared for the fight.”
I croaked, “Who? Who are they?”
“You know,” she said, and stood up. “You knew before, and you will again. You saw him. You just won’t allow yourself to see.”
I reached out and grabbed her hand. She looked down, frowning a little, and pulled free without any difficulty—but she did it gently. “I hope you survive. And I hope—I hope you are happy.”
I laughed hollowly. “I hope so, too. I don’t suppose we can count on you for a little help along those lines?”
Venna raised her eyebrows. “What do you expect?”
Nothing, I supposed.
Which was, as Venna performed her dramatic Djinn exit, exactly what we got.
David picked me up and carried me into the bathroom. I might have passed out for a while; when I woke, I was naked, and the two of us were in the bathtub, stretched out and facing each other. He was gently sluicing hot water over my chest, and when he saw I was awake, he switched to a washcloth, which he used to sponge blood from my face and mouth. There was a lot of it, which was alarming in a distant sort of way. I was too weak to really feel panic.
He pressed his lips to my forehead.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I left you. I won’t leave you again.”
“Not even for—”
“No. Not even for the Mother.”
It had the feeling not of seduction, but of ritual, and the heat of the water eased something cold and small and terrified inside of me. We stayed in the bath until I felt sleep overtaking me, and then he carried me to bed, where I fell into a black, dreamless pit.
Sleep wasn’t without its horrors. I woke a few times feeling phantom fingers scrabbling for my heart, but it wasn’t an attack, just raw unfiltered panic. David was there to drive it away. Hush, he told me, and soothed the fear with gentle strokes of his fingers. I won’t leave you. You are safe in my arms.
When the phone rang, he answered, and I drifted back to a dark, quiet sleep for the rest of the night.
In the morning, I woke up stronger than I’d felt through the night—though that really wasn’t much of an improvement, since I’d started from a baseline of near death. I found out from David, who was up bright and early fixing coffee and eggs, that the phone call had been from Lewis. The aetheric dust-up had been witnessed by hundreds of Wardens, though nobody could tell what had been going on or who had been the target. Lewis had decided to check in, just in case. A team of Wardens had been put on smoothing out the effects of the fight, which was good, because it was well beyond me. Sitting up for more than an hour was beyond me.
David poured me a cup of coffee and slid into the chair beside me. “How do you feel?” he asked.
“Like I survived. Barely,” I said. “You want the truth? I feel fragile. And glad to be alive.” I sipped without really tasting the nutty brown richness, though the smell of the coffee warmed me. “Why did Ashan make you watch?”
His hands went still on the table. He didn’t look up. “Punishment,” he said. “I didn’t have permission to leave the Mother. She wasn’t pleased. She—she can cut me off from her, and she did it, to prove the point. That’s why I didn’t have the power to stop him.”
He’d disobeyed the Mother for me. I almost dropped the china cup, and it rattled when I managed to get it back to the saucer. “David—”
“If you’re about to tell me that it was stupid, I already know,” he said. “But don’t ask me to promise not to do it again.”
“But—what did she want?”
“Djinn business.” His tone made it clear that it wasn’t any of mine. “You wouldn’t understand even if I tried to explain.”
Because of me, David had already lost his status as the sole conduit for the Djinn; Ashan had taken on responsibility for the Old Djinn. Now, if he wasn’t careful, he’d lose everything. I felt that knowledge stab deep, and lodge like a dagger of ice somewhere near my heart. “I don’t think I’m worth it,” I said slowly.
He raised his head, and the look in his eyes broke me. “I think you are,” he said. “I think you’re worth far more. You’ve proven it to me so many times.”
I had to take a deep breath, or I’d have burst into tears. As it was, my voice trembled. “David—Ashan told me the risks. If we exchange vows, it could bind the New Djinn the way that Jonathan’s vow bound the Djinn in the first place. I could be responsible for enslaving you again. All of you.” I swallowed hard. “I can’t take that chance.”
“No?” He smiled, but it was a bitter, dark thing, and it made me shiver. “I can.”
“David—”
“I warned you. When Djinn fall in love, there’s no middle ground. Our love is deep, and total, and merciless. ” He regarded me for a long moment, and his hand closed around mine, far gentler than the look in his eyes. “You think I did this without considering the consequences? Without considering the cost to my own people, and my responsibilities?”
“I—” I finally shook my head. “I don’t know. I don’t know how it is for Djinn, but where love is involved, humans aren’t usually that strong on logic.”
That made his smile warmer, more genuine. “True enough for us as well. However, I believe that the New Djinn need to stay close to humanity, and I believe this is an important step to ensure that happens. You see? Logical. It also happens to be what I want to do. It’s a risk, yes, but it’s a risk I think is acceptable. In addition, it’s a way to force the Sentinels out in the open, by forcing them to counter our move.” He lifted my fingers to his mouth and kissed them, just a light brush of lips. “If you decide we can’t go through with it, I’ll abide by your decision.”
“But . . . what about the others?”
“The other New Djinn? I won’t say there aren’t a few who are doubtful, but by and large, they’re interested. Intrigued. It’s possible that if we exchange vows, the Djinn could regain some measure of the additional power they had under the old agreement with the Wardens—but still retain their autonomy. As I said, we all consider it worth a try.”
“Especially since it’s temporary,” I said. “Right? Till death do us part. Once I’m gone, the vow is broken.”
Sadness softened the metallic glitter of his eyes. “Yes,” he said. “Exactly. Unlike the agreement Jonathan made, which was to a group, this is to an individual. But the Old Djinn still don’t want to take the risk. They’re the more conservative force, and they worry about consequences. About precedence.”