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Riker and I whirled around as the smoke coalesced into a towering form, materializing in some kind of twisted magic trick.
There, standing before us in a display of terrifying splendor, was King Zayn. His presence hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest—muscular, impossibly attractive, with skin the color of smoldering embers and eyes that glinted with an internal inferno. The sight of him sent a shiver down my spine, and not the good kind.
“Okay, this is new,” I muttered, trying to keep my voice steady. Riker didn’t respond, his own attention locked on the djinn king who seemed to embody the word ‘power.’
Zayn’s gaze bore into mine, and it felt as if he was reaching straight for my soul, stoking fears I thought I had tamed long ago. Despite myself, I took a half-step back, bumping into Riker. Even with all the oddities my job throws at me—werewolves in courtrooms, vamps with marital issues—nothing had prepared me for the raw essence of terror that clung to Zayn.
“Nice of you to join the party, Your Highness” I said, injecting a dose of bravado into my words. “But crashing it with smoke and threats? Total faux pas.”
Zayn tilted his head slightly, his lips twisting into what might have been a smirk on any other creature. On him, it was a harbinger of bad news wrapped in a promise of destruction.
Zayn’s eyes flared brighter, twin embers that seemed to hold eons of fury. “This isn’t a game,” he hissed, the air around us growing oppressively warm. “Stay out of djinn business, Tessa Fury, or you and all your hunter friends will face consequences far beyond your mortal comprehension.”
“Consequences, huh?” I shot back, my voice steadier than I felt. “You’ll have to be more specific. I’m not so great with vagueness; it’s a character flaw.”
“Insolence from an ant is still insolence,” Zayn growled, raising a hand. The gesture was simple, but the power that surged forth was anything but. Heat licked at my skin as if testing its limits, a scorching caress that stopped just shy of searing flesh.
I braced myself for the blistering onslaught, but instead of agony, there was a pause—a flicker in Zayn’s confidence that drew his eyebrows together. The fiery tendrils danced across my skin before it recoiled as if repelled by an invisible shield.
“Qué demonios?” I muttered under my breath, more to myself than anyone else. Whatever had just happened, it wasn’t what King Zayn—or I—had expected.
The djinn king’s deep red eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head ever so slightly, the corners of his mouth turning upward in a smirk that didn’t reach his inferno pits for eyes. “Interesting,” he murmured, a note of surprise coloring his tone. “There is more to you, Tessa Fury, than meets the eye.”
“Always love to surprise,” I said, even though inside, my heart clogged my throat. What the hell? Maybe it was my abysmal track record as a supernatural bounty hunter that somehow made me immune to being barbecued on the spot? Anyway, I wasn’t about to question it out loud; some things were better left unspoken.
“Consider this a warning then,” Zayn said, and his voice was suddenly devoid of warmth, as if he’d doused the flames of his interest as quickly as they had ignited. “Cross me again, and it will be your last.”
“Got it. Burning bad, staying alive good. Warnings noted,” I replied, my mind racing. As much as I hated to admit it, the fire king horrified me.
With a final glare that promised retribution, Zayn clapped his hands once—thunderous and commanding—and in a burst of smoke, he vanished, leaving behind only the scent of charred earth and a silence that spoke volumes. Riker and I exchanged glances, both of us too stunned to speak immediately.
“Did you see that?” I finally whispered, more to assure myself that I hadn’t imagined the entire encounter.
“See it?” Riker echoed, brushing off a layer of soot that hadn’t been there moments ago. “I felt it. That was no parlor trick.”
“Let’s just hope he doesn’t make good on his threats.” I peered at the spot where Zayn had stood, half expecting him to reappear and prove it wasn’t all smoke and mirrors. But the day remained still, as did the secret of why Zayn’s power had faltered against me. I filed that away under ‘mysteries for another day’ and focused on the immediate problem: getting out of this mess without ending up as a headline in tomorrow’s paper.
Riker’s advice cut through the hazy aftermath. “Tessa, we should make ourselves scarce,” he said, nudging me gently with his elbow. The smell of smoke still lingered, an unwelcome accessory to our already conspicuous presence.
“Because firefighters are famously curious?” I said, brushing ash off my jacket as if it were mere lint. I cast a wary glance toward the red trucks. “Or because being grilled by Dallas’ finest isn’t part of today’s plan?”
“Both,” Riker replied, his voice low but laced with a hint of amusement.
“Fair point.” I took one last look at the courthouse. It stood silent and stoic as I followed Riker’s lead. “You know, I’m starting to think ‘smoke-free environment’ should be included in every job description I take.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Riker threw back with a grin. There was something about dodging danger with him that felt like an adrenaline-fueled dance, each step choreographed by the unpredictable rhythm of the supernatural.
“Next time, let’s at least aim for ‘smoke-optional’.” I smiled despite the tension that lingered.
“Deal.”
And just like that, we slipped away, trailed by the whispers of smoke and magic that stubbornly clung to us.
CHAPTER 12
“Maybe we should head to my place to figure out what’s next,” Riker suggested, his voice steady as we stood next to our cars in a nearby lot. I nodded, and he gestured toward his truck. “I can drive.”
It wasn’t like anyone would want to steal my car if I left it here for a while.
