Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she felt pins and needles in the tips of her fingers. Oh crap, not this again. Ignoring the uncomfortable pain that tingled and turned into a nip, Ari lifted her eyes from her slowly disappearing limbs to Charlie and Jai’s faces. “I’ll be okay. I’ll be back soo—”
Blackness crawled across her vision, and Ari gave into the overwhelming sensation of moving between realms. She let her body relax and float into the ether.
Her cheek was smooshed against something solid and smooth. Not just her cheek, but her whole body. Her chest ached, flattened against the hard surface and Ari groaned, shifting her torso at an angle to relieve the pressure. Just that slight movement felt exhausting. And familiar.
The memory of the Red King in her living room unfurled fear in her heart. She was terrified to open her eyes.
“I haven’t got all day, Seal.”
That voice.
Horror pried her eyes open and she jerked up from her prone position on the floor at the warped reflection of herself in glass tiles. The White King? Pushing herself up with more ease than she'd anticipated, Ari glanced around, her eyes almost crossing over at the warring, clashing reflections that collided with one another in the discombobulating room of glass. Focusing, Ari fought her way through the confusion, her eyes zeroing in on the colossal figure before her. Not the White King.
Thank the ever loving gods.
“Will you not stand before your master, Seal?”
Ari took in his huge bare feet, the long legs clad in black hand-sewn leather, the bare chest inked with tattoos of ancient script, the billowing blue silk robes and the startling face upon a thick neck. Like the Red King, Azazil’s head was unshaven, his long silver-white hair loose and flowing around his shoulders. His skin was a dark contrast to the pure brilliance of his hair, as were the deep black abysses that qualified as eyes. Those alien eyes narrowed between a strong nose and a hard mouth.
He was mammoth.
Standing next to a black marble throne that must have stood at least ten feet tall, Azazil was an awe-inspiring and intimidating figure. The jinn was at least seven and a half feet tall, the largest she had yet to meet.
She guessed it made sense that the daddy of them all was the biggest of them all.
Coming to her senses, Ari struggled to her feet, her sneakers squeaking on the glass floor. When she glanced up at Azazil for a reaction, he merely frowned and the next thing Ari felt was glass against her bare feet. She blinked, stupefied, down at her tan toes and chipped nail polish.
He’d taken her sneakers.
Shoving down her indignation, Ari drew her gaze up. How was she supposed to address this guy?
As if reading her mind, Azazil stuck out a hand and she noted his bejeweled fingers. Guy likes his accessories, huh? “You may kiss my hand, Seal.”
Seal? That was a creepy-ass nickname.
Gulping down her trembling nerves, Ari took a few tentative steps forward, placing her feet carefully, one in front of the other, as she headed up the dais. She kept expecting something to jump out and attack her. Despite her resolve to be cool, when Ari reached out a hand to clasp his, her fingers shook. Her hand looked tiny in his. The butterflies in her stomach raged a war as she pressed her lips to his knuckles, and darted back so quickly she nearly fell down the stairs. Glancing up at him, petrified at his reaction, it surprised Ari to see humor glittering in the black depths of his gaze. Unlike his son, the White King, Azazil’s features were warm with emotion. Oh, Ari had no doubt he was terrifying when enraged, and cruel and spiteful when he wanted to be (she’d read the book Jai had given her cover to cover after all), but she also could see that he could feel. The White King seemed to have no emotions. He was the darkest, soulless being she had ever met.
Trembling at the bottom of the dais, Ari waited for Azazil to speak.
“You are quite lovely.” Azazil smiled and Ari felt the warmth of that smile seep through her, her muscles loosening and relaxing. “But then if I remember correctly, so is Sala.”
Like always, the mention of her mother felt like a slap across Ari’s face. The warmth dissipated and she grew tense again.
Sensing it, Azazil waved his hand dismissively. “But that is not why you have come. You wish to save your human father?”
“Yes... Your Highness.”
He nodded. “A noble quest. One that…” as he trailed off, his eyes flicking over her shoulders, Ari felt the atmosphere within the humongous room shift and change, like the cap on a bottle of soda twisting, trapping all the gas inside. Ari felt choked by the sensation. Inexplicable fear exploded through her and she whirled around, her vision fighting the sparkling reflections. There at the opposite end of the room she finally spotted jinn servants in white, all staring toward the massive thirty feet double doors at the end of the hall. “Have you mastered the art of the cloak, Seal?”