The Seven Kings of Jinn

“You know there was an ifrit living in your house, right?”

Letting out a startled cry, Ari spun around to find two men standing in the doorway of her living room. No. Not men. Ari took in the one closest to her with abject dread. If it was possible, he stood even taller than the White King, and there was a similarity in the cut of his features that made her stomach flip. However, instead of bleak black eyes and a shiny bald head, this guy had bright blue eyes, brown skin tinged with a slight reddish hue, and long flame-red hair tied back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. The tip of the ponytail swung at his lower back as he took a step closer to her. Ari retreated, not fooled by the jeans and T-shirt he wore. He was jinn.

She wanted them to leave her the hell alone! Why couldn’t they do that? What did they want from her? “What are you?”

He smiled at her, a genuine, beautiful smile that wiped away any similarity to the White King. “I’m your uncle,” his deep voice boomed around the room. He didn’t speak with the same accented, careful, old-fashioned correctness the White King did. He spoke like her, American accent and all.

Ari shivered and glanced around for some kind of weapon, since her baseball bat was too far away from her. “I told the White King to leave me alone.”

His eyes dimmed. “Oh, I’m not here for your father. The opposite, in fact. I’m the Red King. You may call me uncle if you wish.”

She frowned as he slipped into a more formal speech. “I don’t think so. What do you want?” She glanced warily over the Red King’s shoulder at the guy standing in the doorway. Something about him made her pause. When his eyes glittered back at her from the shadows, Ari felt his gaze on her with a jolt. A shiver rippled down her spine. She eyed him, guarded, before shifting her attention back to the enigmatic redhead before her. “I’ve had my fill of jinn. And not the good gin that my dad keeps locked in his liquor cabinet. The creepy jinn that took a bite out of my arm and destroyed reality as I know it.”

“Yeah.” The Red King heaved a sigh, sitting down on the couch. “Sounds like big bro.”

Ari raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

“The sultan sent me.”

Her eyes widened. “Azazil?”

The Red King scooted forward, his features taut with expectancy. “How much did my brother tell you?”

“You mean the asshat who ripped me from my world into another one and coldly told me he was my real father and that I’m jinn?”

“Asshat. I like that.” He grinned, and then promptly wiped the smile off his face when he noted her displeasure. “Yeah, that guy.”

“Just that. That my mother hid me with my dad, with Derek, and that the White King couldn’t find me because of some enchantment she put over me that hid me from him. He said it wore off when I was sixteen.”

She waited, somehow hoping that information would be enough to make him leave.

“It did.” The Red King nodded eagerly. “Azazil had me searching to find you before the White King could get to you. Unfortunately, my psychotic brother got to you just as we did. Well… I might have been able to stop him if someone had told me about Rabir a little sooner.” He threw a dirty, pointed look at the guy in the doorway, and said guy took a step forward into the light.

“Hey,” the guy snapped. “If you had told me what the hell she really was,” he threw a gesture in her direction, “I would have gone directly to you rather than to my father.”

“Have you forgotten who you’re speaking to, kid?” The Red King’s voice purred threateningly.

The guy, who Ari now noticed was younger than she’d first thought, stiffened. She noted, however, that he didn’t look frightened by the Red King, merely annoyed. Somehow, that reassured her. He nodded tightly, the strong line of his jaw clenching. “Apologies, Your Highness.”

He sounds way less than apologetic, Ari thought.

The Red King’s eyes flashed and he turned back to her. “I like this kid.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the young guy. “He’s got fire.” The Red King grinned and winked. “Get it?”

Ari almost rolled her eyes, amazed that this was really her life now. “He’s jinn, too?” She ran her eyes over the young guy who appeared to be in his early twenties. She noted he was shorter than the king, standing at around six foot two. He was powerful looking, however, broad-shouldered and fit. Like the Red King, he wore black jeans and a plain white T-shirt. His olive skin formed over tightly roped muscle.