Carry On Wayward Son(25)

Now, as the sand, the smoke dissipated, he stood, the gold of his power glowing in his jade green eyes.

“Claire.” He stepped back, and pain wrapped around her heart. “I never meant—”

“I did.” Jamal looked at her, an apology in the sharp green eyes. “I opened your connection to each other. I knew you would think of her—”

“Wait.” Claire stared up at him. “I was your early warning system?”

He managed to look sheepish. “A simple charm—if he thought of you under duress, that thought would bring you to him. Your presence alerted me, saved his life.” The green eyes narrowed as they studied Marcus. “Though I am far from certain he wanted saving.”

“You are Marid.” Claire never thought one of the most powerful of the Jinn existed. Or that he would be so—benign.

“I brought you here, to use, in whatever way necessary, to free Marcus.”

Marcus grabbed Jamal’s arm. “You put her right in front of Baran—”

“And I am sorry for it.” Jamal looked down at Marcus, regret in his eyes. “I am sorry.” He eased out of Marcus’ grip, laid one hand on her cheek. Heat spread through her—heat she recognized. It wrapped around the wound on her forearm, drew out the pain. “Thank you for protecting him. I underestimated the anger Baran harbored, and because of that I wasn’t here to deflect his vengeance.”

He kissed her forehead, her skin tingling from the touch of his lips. His smile left her breathless. She felt the power behind it, similar to Marcus, but magnified beyond anything she had experienced.

“It is time to take you back, child. I pulled you from people who need your presence, and you will need the power you fear you no longer have.”

Marcus caught her shoulders. “What is he talking about?”

“Nothing you can assist her with, Marcus.” Jamal eased Marcus away, laid one hand on his newly scarred cheek. “You are not done here, and what she faces is not for you.” Stepping to Claire, he wrapped one arm around her waist. “Say goodbye, child.”

Panic flared—it was happening too fast, she wasn’t ready to leave him—

“Claire—” He reached out for her.

“Keep yourself safe. Come back to me.”

Anguish tightened his face—but before she could say anything sand burst up from the floor and spun around them.

Jamal pressed one hand against the scar left by Natasha’s knife. Fire exploded through her. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t scream.

His voice cut through the agony. “Forgive me, child. You will never break the wall, and you need what is behind it. I will stand between Marcus and the council—I promise you, he won’t be harmed again.”

The whirlwind drowned out everything. Only the force of his grip told Claire he was still with her. And she lost even that when he let go.

She fell, through sand and wind, the tearing inside her the last thing she felt before the darkness claimed her.





TWELVE



“—hear me? Claire.”

The pressure on her scar jerked her out of darkness and into pain.

She doubled over the agony squeezing her ribs. A strong arm slid around her waist, easing her to the floor.

“Claire.” Gentle hands brushed away the hair sticking to her face. She felt cold—except behind the wall, where the power that had been trapped since Azazel sent her back from the gates of Hell pulsed, and woke. “Let me help you.”

“No—” His hands cradled her face, so warm against her iced skin, so comforting she wanted to lean in, let that feeling wash through her, heal every ache she had carried for so long—

“I know this is my doing. Pushing you, trapping you for my own agenda.” His voice soothed as much as his touch. She opened her eyes, met the remorse in his. “Let me take away some of the pain I caused.” Before she knew what he meant he laid one hand over the scar. And his power blasted through the widening cracks in her wall.

“God—” She batted at his hand, managed to take in a breath. “Off—”

Zach freed her, but she could feel him, hovering, waiting. She crawled across the floor, away from him, away from the bright, clean arc of his power, edged with the impossible. The wall inside her broke, the jagged edges shifting, scraping, so close to letting out the part of herself she was afraid she could no longer control—

“No.” He gripped her arm, trapped her against the floor. “Tell me what to do. I know you were somewhere else. I felt you leave. Now tell me how to ease your suffering.”

“There is nothing—you can do. Get out. Now, Zach, before I—”