Not yet,I told her.Just checked her place to make sure she wasn't here. Will let you know if I find anything.
*Sigh* Ok. Thanks. I'll keep calling around.
Shoving my cell back into my pocket, I started toward the home of the high priestess. She wasn't there, but maybe Leeloo was hiding out or something. But I'd only gone about a half a block when I caught a faint scent on the cold breeze. One that made my throat burn with thirst.
Blood.
And not just any blood. Leeloo's blood. I would recognize her scent anywhere. "Son of a bitch."
Closing my eyes, I let my instincts take over. Let the hunter inside of me come to the surface. My nerve endings tingled as I concentrated on the night around me. I heard the faint sounds of someone playing a jazz horn and smelled the spicy, meaty scent of gumbo and rice. Humidity from the Mississippi clung to my skin. And the buzz of insects vibrated in my ears.
I separated the different scents and sounds, concentrating on the distinct smell of my witch. With a low growl deep in my throat, I followed it through the Garden District to one of the many cemeteries. At first, I saw nothing but tombs. But then I heard a low, warbled cry, and my head snapped around to find my witch hovering in the air near a large marble chamber. Her back arched to the point of snapping her spine. Her mouth open on a now silent scream.
Every cell in my body burned with rage, and my eyes snapped to the male below her, his arms held high as he laughed at her pain.
Baring my fangs, I jumped the fence and rushed headlong into the fight.
Chapter 9
Angel
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I hung suspended in the air, fighting like hell to keep this bastard from snapping my spine like a twig. Agonizing pain shot from the middle of my back like bolts of lightning, traveling up into my chest and shooting down my legs and arms.
I fucked up. I fucked up big time.
As I struggled to breathe against the pain, a ringing started in my ears, blocking out his words. His mocking laughter. Black dots spotted my vision and I fought to stay conscious.
My magic wavered, and my back arched another inch. I tried to scream as something popped and practically choked on my own spit, the dagger falling from my fingers to clatter on the rocks below me, but I had no breath. Praying it was only a joint in my spine and not a disc that had made that noise, I gritted my teeth and gathered the remains of my strength, sending out a shot of magic.
The djinn laughed when he felt it, staggering back a small step before pushing forward again, and I remained hovering a good seven feet up from the ground.
I was going to die. He was going to snap me in half and leave me here to rot with the rest of my ancestors.
A deep, feral growl echoed through the tombs, ominous and inhuman. Even in the excruciating state I was in, little hairs all over my body stood on end, sensitive to each vibration of whatever the hell it was I was hearing. I turned my head right as the djinn did, my vision blurred with tears, as something as violent as the night and transparent as the mist rushed toward us. It hit the djinn dead center, knocking him backward.
As soon as his hold was broken, I fell to the ground, landing hard on my sore back, but thankfully just missing a marble cross sticking out of the ground. Carefully, I curled into a ball, relieved when I found I could, as horrible sounds ripped from the djinn's throat. I didn't know what was killing him, and I didn't care, as long as he was out of my life. Out of all of our lives.
I should've known it wouldn't be that fucking easy.
As the fight seemed to take a turn, I found the dagger on the ground and picked it up, then staggered to my feet right as the djinn threw off his attacker. He flew through the air, landing less than six feet away from me. I peered down at him. He was wearing black jeans and a black, short-sleeved shirt. His dark skin marred only by the streaks of djnn blood dripping down his chin. "Jamal?"
Eyes black as night flew to my face and latched onto me. When he saw me there--bent over with tears streaming down my face--he flashed white fangs and flipped onto his feet, again facing the djinn. With measured steps, he stalked closer, fangs bared and hands curled into claws.
He was terrifying.
He was beautiful.
He was every evil thing's nightmare.
One hand on the mossy tombstone beside me to use as a crutch, I took a couple of hesitant steps back. Other than a slight twinge, my back didn't give me any problems. Slowly, keeping my eyes on my unlikely savior as he circled the djinn, I used my arm to push my upper body up until I was standing straight. Nothing seemed to be seriously hurt, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
But a moment later, my heart was racing as Jamal charged the djinn.
Even with one side of his throat torn open and blood covering his white button-down shirt, the djinn stood tall and strong, waiting for Jamal to get closer before he struck. I saw it too late. "Jamal! Don't!"
Before he could get a hold of him, Jamal once again went flying through the air. Only higher this time, flipping head over feet as he flew over my head, straight toward a large tomb surrounded by an iron fence. I watched in horror as he came down directly on top of the pointed finials topping each post with the force of something much heavier than him. Two of the spikes tore through him, spearing him there like a fish. He hung over the fence, his back arched, much as I had just moments ago, a groan escaping him as his hands floundered around the spikes that had gone right through him.
