Chapter Twenty-Eight—“Only a matter of time…”

“No! NO PLEASE!”

The slave whaled like a sheep, and this annoyed Darius. He wanted to cut her throat as he held the dagger to her neck but of course, he would not. He needed the slave alive if Jessamine was to come out of the lamp so that her pathetic life might be spared.

Blue smoke wisped out of the lamp’s spout and Jessamine, dressed in a tiny green dress that matched her eyes, appeared before him, a huff on her breath and her hand on her hip.

“You win, Darius.”

He smiled, then shoved the slave to the floor. She barely moved, lest he grab her by the hair and finish the deed he had been threatening.

“I knew that you would.”

“What do you want?”

He looked at her. “What do I want?”

“Yes.”

“Is that any way to speak to the sultan of the Abassir Empire?”

“We both know my position warrants me to speak any way that I wish.”

“Even at the cost of this slave’s life?”

“Go ahead and kill her,” Jessamine said. “She means nothing to me. Her death’s on your hands, not mine.”

Smiling, he said. “I knew you would say that. I know you well.”

She said nothing.

“Perhaps I was wrong to banish you to the temple of Akarilion.”

“Mebkubazir,” Jessamine said, thinking she was correcting him. “It is called Mebkubazir. It is an ancient temple of a lost culture that you defiled when you turned it into my prison.”

“But,” he said, getting up and spreading his hands as he walked toward her. “You’re immortal. Half a century is akin to telling a child he can no longer swim in the river because of how bruised his fingers are. In no time at all, the sun will have dried his skin so that he can go back to his delight.”

Behind Jessamine were two Scorpion Guards standing next to the open vault where he kept her lamp. “Then we can banish you for fifty years and see how you enjoy that.”

“Do not pretend that being in solitude for centuries before I found your lamp was not far worse.”

She glanced away.

“You do that whenever I best you in our little arguments, don’t you?”

“Do what?”

“Look away from me,” he said, answering her as he walked into her line of sight again. The afternoon sun was shining through the curtains and casting blocks of bright hot light on the tiles.

“I have nothing else to say to a belligerent ruler who believes himself a god.”

Feeling a strong tinge of annoyance, he laughed. “You whore, Jessamine.”

She looked at him then, her eyes narrowing. “Be careful, Darius.”

“Or what? You will kill me? You know what would happen if you should do such a thing.”

“Becoming a mortal isn’t so bad,” she said. “It would give life a sweater taste, knowing my time was limited.”

“And then when you grow old and die?”

“Then I go to the gods.”

“Surely not, you accursed being.”

“How dare you!” she said. “We jinni are noble ones of the gods.”

“Wouldn’t you like to believe,” he said, “but not even you know that for a certainty. It is what you believe. And you could be wrong. There are some that have another story about the birthing of the jinni race.”

“What?” she said, her face twisting to disgust. “Stories from your foul Hajja sorcerers, no doubt.”

“You may find them distasteful—as do I—but that does not mean they don’t have wisdom and knowledge of the ages.”

“Enough of this banter,” Jessamine said. “What do you want, Darius?”

“You know what I wish for.”

“You will get nothing from me.”

Darius sighed. “Why could you have not been another jinni—one of the more cold minded ones more aligned with my goals?”

“Why could you not have remained a good man, like you had been before your lust for power, Darius?” She turned to him then. “You were noble adventurer once.”

“Those days are long gone,” Darius said. “And besides, the man I am now had always been there. I just let him out.”

“Let him out—like a demon of the hells.”

He almost snarled. It had been decades since he had been spoken to so harshly. But Darius held his temper. “Impart to me more of your magicks,” he said plainly.

Her eyes went to the slave. “She’s as good as dead.”

The girl turned. “No, please.”

“Silence!” Darius snarled, then he kicked the girl.

She grunted thickly as his shin connected with her belly, that grunt turning into a muffled moan as she held her face in her hands.

Jessamine turned and strode toward the windows, seemingly without care.

“Don’t pretend,” Darius demanded, a note of anger in his voice. “You came out of the lamp to keep me from spilling her blood over these floors.”

Glancing back at him, she smirked.

That angered Darius and it was all he could do not to rush up and hit Jessamine. But that he could strike her, also bespoke her ability to strike him.

Perhaps that was not the best course of action to take.

He could strike the slave girl, though.

Rounding, he slammed his heel on the girl’s outstretched hand and she howled. Before her pathetic whaling even stopped, he turned and glanced toward his whore of a jinni to watch for her reaction.

There was very little, other than her deep inhalation.

Yes, he thought. It is disturbing her. As it should.

“You are a beast, Darius.”

Those words made his smile drop. Even though Jessamine did little to react, her eyes, flicking from the slave and up to him, bespoke of her contempt and scorn for him, of her belief that he was a lower creature from her exulted position.

But how could she believe such a lie? He was the most powerful man in the lands, his word was absolute. He was more powerful than the gods, who never showed their faces, never intervened in any of the affairs of the beings in this world.

“Don’t look at me that way,” he hissed.

She turned and strode to the windows.

Darius bared his teeth.

And so you show your back to me? To me?!

He unsheathed his dagger, grabbed the slave by the hair. Through her sobs and tears, she wasn’t even aware he had the blade in his hand, the stupid sheep.

And then he dragged the naked blade across her throat.

The slave girl’s sudden choking and splashing of blood made Jessamine’s entire body tense as she thrashed in her own blood.

Good.

“And I will kill another every hour, morning, noon and night, until you do as I command, jinni.”

She whirled.

“Then you are a fool, Darius! Go ahead and kill your slaves—kill your subjects! Your actions now show to me the kind of ruler you have been in my absence—the kind of ruler you are. One day, you will fall, your empire impoverished and your peoples gnashing their teeth to get their hands around your throat.” She sliced a finger at him. “One day you will fall. I just hope I’m here to see it.”

Her outrage made him laugh, because he knew he would win.

“It is only a matter of time,” he said. “A matter of lives. The question is, how many will you waste before you give in?”

“Shiro is ten times the man you will ever be.”

Stepping forward, he backhanded Jessamine in the face. When she turned, she backhanded him in turn.

He touched his cheek and smiled.

Licking his lips, he said, “I’ve missed these days.”

And then he watched as Jessamine’s physical form vanished as she evaporated into a plume of blue spoke and twirled back into her lamp.