selfish, stubborn refusal to obey your betters. Your father, your mother, your aunt and uncle, your cousins, all of them will pay the price for your childish stupidity. You wouldn’t want anything to… happen to them, would you?”
I suppress my rage; my father is a fool, and he has indebted himself thrice over to the al-Jabiri clan, and now I must pay the price to absolve his debt.
“There will be no marriage, Hassan,” I say. “Not in two weeks, not ever. You and your gorillas trashed the bar I work at, and now the police are all over me. They suspect it wasn’t an accident. I will not be cowed by your threats. It will take time to convince them I had nothing to do with the…explosion.”
“That’s your problem, Princess,” Hassan says, his smile sickly sweet. I want to bash in his perfect white teeth. “You should know better than to associate with human men. You are not for them. You are mine. That was…just a little warning. To you, and to that human you were rubbing yourself all over. Next time I catch you with him or anyone else, the consequence will be much worse.”
“The police—” I begin, but Hassan cuts in over me.
“Are humans. They will find nothing. They will decide it was a freak occurrence of nature, and move on. And if not…? Well, then there will be a strange outbreak of house fires, mysteriously claiming only the lives of local police officers. Which, of course, will be on your conscience.” He grins, pointing a finger at me. “Two weeks, Leila. I’ll be back for you in two weeks. If I have to knock you unconscious and cart you back to Chicago in my trunk, I will. This alliance will happen, or I will slaughter your family in front of you, one by one. I don’t need any of them alive to take control of your clan’s assets.” His eyes are dead and cold, his fingers dig into my arm, his breath stinks of garlic and cigars and alcohol. “I will tie you to a chair and cut your father’s throat. I will rape your mother and your aunt and all your delicious little cousins, and then I’ll kill them too. I’ll cut them all into pieces and feed them to my dogs. Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Leila Najafi? You wouldn’t want all that blood on your hands, would you? That much blood doesn’t wash off; trust me on that.”
He leans close, whispers in my ear. “You can save them all, Leila. All you have to do is stop this ridiculous rebellion against your fate.”
I break away, shove him hard, putting magic and wind into the push. “Get out, you ugly pig.”
He flies across the room, slams into the wall beside the front door, and then rights himself. “Watch the way you speak to your betrothed, bitch.”
“You’re not my betrothed and you will never be my husband.” I refuse to cower as he stalks back toward me, his shape flickering between human flesh and ifriti flame.
He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a huge folding knife, black-bladed and wickedly sharp. “You don’t want to antagonize me. You don’t want to do this the hard way, Princess. You should know me well enough to know I’m not bluffing.” He takes a lock of my hair in his fingers, and before I can stop him, he cuts it off, sniffing it. “And next time I see you, you’d better be more appropriately dressed. My wife will not dress like a human whore.” He leaves, sauntering and swaggering, my hair still pressed to his nose.
Creep.
I stay upright until he’s gone, then slump to the floor, struggling to suppress a sob. I know he’s not bluffing. He will do everything he’s threatened, and worse. He’ll kill everyone I know. I’ve heard the stories about him, how bloodthirsty he is, how ruthless in getting what he wants. If even half the rumors about him are true, ‘cold-blooded killer’ would be the nicest of the applicable terms.
I can’t hold back the sobs, and they gush forth, wave after wave of tears born of anger, frustration and fear. The hardest part is that I
I suppress my rage; my father is a fool, and he has indebted himself thrice over to the al-Jabiri clan, and now I must pay the price to absolve his debt.
“There will be no marriage, Hassan,” I say. “Not in two weeks, not ever. You and your gorillas trashed the bar I work at, and now the police are all over me. They suspect it wasn’t an accident. I will not be cowed by your threats. It will take time to convince them I had nothing to do with the…explosion.”
“That’s your problem, Princess,” Hassan says, his smile sickly sweet. I want to bash in his perfect white teeth. “You should know better than to associate with human men. You are not for them. You are mine. That was…just a little warning. To you, and to that human you were rubbing yourself all over. Next time I catch you with him or anyone else, the consequence will be much worse.”
“The police—” I begin, but Hassan cuts in over me.
“Are humans. They will find nothing. They will decide it was a freak occurrence of nature, and move on. And if not…? Well, then there will be a strange outbreak of house fires, mysteriously claiming only the lives of local police officers. Which, of course, will be on your conscience.” He grins, pointing a finger at me. “Two weeks, Leila. I’ll be back for you in two weeks. If I have to knock you unconscious and cart you back to Chicago in my trunk, I will. This alliance will happen, or I will slaughter your family in front of you, one by one. I don’t need any of them alive to take control of your clan’s assets.” His eyes are dead and cold, his fingers dig into my arm, his breath stinks of garlic and cigars and alcohol. “I will tie you to a chair and cut your father’s throat. I will rape your mother and your aunt and all your delicious little cousins, and then I’ll kill them too. I’ll cut them all into pieces and feed them to my dogs. Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Leila Najafi? You wouldn’t want all that blood on your hands, would you? That much blood doesn’t wash off; trust me on that.”
He leans close, whispers in my ear. “You can save them all, Leila. All you have to do is stop this ridiculous rebellion against your fate.”
I break away, shove him hard, putting magic and wind into the push. “Get out, you ugly pig.”
He flies across the room, slams into the wall beside the front door, and then rights himself. “Watch the way you speak to your betrothed, bitch.”
“You’re not my betrothed and you will never be my husband.” I refuse to cower as he stalks back toward me, his shape flickering between human flesh and ifriti flame.
He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a huge folding knife, black-bladed and wickedly sharp. “You don’t want to antagonize me. You don’t want to do this the hard way, Princess. You should know me well enough to know I’m not bluffing.” He takes a lock of my hair in his fingers, and before I can stop him, he cuts it off, sniffing it. “And next time I see you, you’d better be more appropriately dressed. My wife will not dress like a human whore.” He leaves, sauntering and swaggering, my hair still pressed to his nose.
Creep.
I stay upright until he’s gone, then slump to the floor, struggling to suppress a sob. I know he’s not bluffing. He will do everything he’s threatened, and worse. He’ll kill everyone I know. I’ve heard the stories about him, how bloodthirsty he is, how ruthless in getting what he wants. If even half the rumors about him are true, ‘cold-blooded killer’ would be the nicest of the applicable terms.
I can’t hold back the sobs, and they gush forth, wave after wave of tears born of anger, frustration and fear. The hardest part is that I
Similar Books
