Page 39 of Releasing the Djinn
Chapter 12
With her legs tucked under the large coffee table, Nadira sat in the library pouring over her statistics homework. After missing two weeks of school, she would be coming back just in time for tests in all of her classes. Reaching for her eraser, Nadira swiped a few glossy, black locks over her shoulder. That morning she had gone to the salon. The closest one to the house was located in the ritziest shopping center she had ever seen, and she thanked God for Idrak, forcing her to go shopping for new clothes. With overpriced smoothies in hand, upper-class women stepped in and out of their Land Rovers and sporty roadsters, dressed in sparkling jewelry and expensive branded athleisure wear, all looking as if they had somewhere urgent to be. Whether it was her own fashionable attire or maybe just her mass of long black tresses that cried sacrilege to the male hairstylist chatting at the opulent front desk, either way, she was whisked to the back and somehow convinced to spend an obscene amount on a day's worth of work.
Rolling her mechanical pencil between her fingers, Nadira still couldn’t believe the experience. After being scrubbed with sea salt and oils that smelt like sage and eucalyptus, she was allowed to soak in a private tub surrounded by candles in a tiny room that played soft music. After nearly falling asleep, she was then taken for a half-hour massage, where she actually did fall asleep. Relaxed like an overdone noodle, Nadira was poured into a hairdresser's chair while one man worked on her hair, and two women worked on her face and nails. Nadira was dumbfounded when everything was finally over. Her skin felt soft and new, while her hair, which still maintained most of its length, was layered and shaped. She felt like a new person.
Now that she was home, Nadira was too afraid to put her hair back in her usual ponytail. She wanted Idrak to see it, and she didn't want to mess it up. Staring past her paper in front of her, Nadira frowned. When had she started caring what the djinn thought? Since the moment he spoke to her, the mutinous voice whispered in the back of her head. She should hate him. She should have taken that drawer full of money and run away from him as far as she could—but she didn’t. She couldn't. Idrak would find her no matter where she went, those bright eyes would glow like white flames and he would stalk toward her and grab her no matter where she hid—and the sick part was she wanted it. Knowing that something as all-powerful as him wanted her filled her with a perverse sort of happiness she could neither explain or justify. He wanted her, and it felt more than good.
Scratching a few more solutions onto her paper, Nadira felt the change in temperature in the air and looked up. Standing in the doorway wearing a red and cream dhoti that looked great against his midnight skin along with his gold armbands straining across his biceps, Idrak stood there looking at her with a hungry gaze. Averting her eyes, her body reacted at the blatant want, her nipples tightening while a familiar heat began to curl at the base of her stomach. Looking back up at him, she watched as he crossed the room towards her and stopped in front of her. Not bothering to sit, he forced her to lean back onto her hands to look up at him.
"You look different," he grumbled, his pupil-less white gaze steadily trained on her.
"Do I?" she asked coyly, partially meaning it. Her skin was exfoliated and glowed with the oils used in her massage, her nails were buffed and painted an airy pink, while her once bushy eyebrows were shaped and arched delicately. But surely all of that was not enough to constitute a different look.
"Yes," he sighed gruffly sitting down next to her. "And I hate it."
Nadira fought back a smile at the huffy response and feigned shock. "What? That certainly wasn't what I was expecting to hear after hours spent at the salon."
Idrak said nothing. He simply sat silently next to her, his empty, stark white eyes staring out. He was really upset, she thought with amazement, and she wondered if it was really because she was leaving his perimeter of control and supervision for a few hours each day for school. Realizing the stubborn demon wasn't going to say anything, Nadira let a small mischievous idea take root in her mind. Turning her head only a fraction of an inch, she examined Idrak's brooding, motionless form as the idea blossomed into a full-fledged plan. Closing her notebook carefully, she placed it on top of her thin economic workbook and slid both to the corner of the coffee table with decisive movements.
Standing up with slow, unhurried movements, Nadira stretched and resisted the urge to shudder. She could feel Idrak's hungry gaze on her body as the loose cotton shorts rode up her ample thighs, and the cropped t-shirt that had sat modestly at her waistline before, moved upward as she stretched. Her stomach was no longer sunken in and flat, nor was her body gaunt and weak from malnourishment. The four large meals a day under the djinn's decree, and what she secretly suspected was a little additional magic thrown in, helped her body back to the sturdy thickness her father despised. A thickness Idrak seemed to love. Turning to him with an innocent if not genial smile as she walked to the doorway and stopped, she posed an innocent question.
"I have been meaning to ask you, were you alive during the Pangea?" The loaded question's tone was given with such innocence Nadira wanted to give herself an award.
Idrak's head turned with a jerky slowness that reminded her of an aging cuckoo clock on its last leg. A muscle began to pulse under the ebony skin beneath one eye as his face settled into a mask of warped incredulous anger.
Nadira tried desperately to keep the laughter at bay, but the battle was lost as she quickly covered her mouth with one hand doing her best to stifle the sound.
Wide and dangerous, a sharp razor tooth smile split across the demon's face.
"I see…" he said, nodding to himself as he casually stood up. At his full height now, he stared at her with a gleeful, unholy anticipation that made her stomach drop and fill with butterflies all at once. Taking one intimidating step forward, then another he continued. "…that a very in-depth history lesson is needed."
Nadira did not wait. Turning on the ball of her heel, she released a high pitch squeal as she ran as fast as she could down the hallway as the demon gave chase.
***
Standing in her history class, Nadira stared out at the treetops through the window. She was early, and for whatever reason, the class that normally occupied the classroom before hers was not in session, giving her a brief moment of quiet before her class began piling in. Losing herself among the bright green leaves, she thought of the day before.
Idrak had caught her and threw her into the pool fully clothed before diving in next to her, his tall horns slicing through the water with ease. When she had surfaced, she expected to see him laughing but had been surprised to see his serious face as he cornered her against the pool's walls.
Taking her chin in hand, Idrak turned up her face to his. "Happiness suits you," he began. "Confidence pours from you, making any man or woman stop and stare, and that my love, unsettles me." The honest admission sat on his lips as if it were made of vinegar, causing the demon to sneer. "I wonder how quickly others will see what I see when I look at you? Will they see the intelligent young woman beneath the quiet exterior, as I did? Will your newly soft curves and intrepid spirit beguile others as it does me?" His thumb had traced over her lips as he stared at her, dropping his gaze to the plump flesh under his thumb. Standing that close, she could see the faint pupils hidden within the starkness of his eyes and marveled at their austere beauty. Tilting his head slightly, he had moved forward in the water until his chest pressed against her soaked clothes, and his lips ghosted over hers as he spoke. Both no longer able to meet each other's gaze but able to listen to the other's breathing and felt the other's heartbeat. "Why else would a djinn like myself who spent lifetimes sealed away, who is finally able to be free, find himself enslaved yet again, to a mere girl. A girl who never once asked for anything as she suffered in silence. The type of girl who never felt sorry for herself despite no one doing it for her."
"Idrak stop," she had pleaded in a whisper.
Closing her eyes, Nadira tuned out the noises of the busy hallway beyond the classroom door behind her and remembered the anxious, uncomfortable feeling his open assessment caused within her. No one had ever said these things about her, she had no idea what to do with herself. She didn't deserve such reverent words.
Pressing his lips to hers, he had absorbed her discomfort, their tongues meeting and dueling yet again. Relaxing completely into his hold, she had held onto his broad, round shoulders letting herself mold against him as he spoke again.
"I have been captured by you as strong as any spell. I want to keep you here locked away, but I know I can't." Idrak's eyes crinkled in the corner as if the confession caused him pain. "I don't want you to go to school, but I know you must. I am powerless when it comes to you, and there is nothing I can do about it."
Tears had distorted her vision as her body burned, set on fire by his words. He was worried and confused by this unnamed feeling growing between them just as much as she was. It relieved her to no end to know that she was not alone. A desire so fierce and volatile ripped through her veins as she pulled him to her. She needed him badly, she wanted him pressed close, to taste him, to touch him—to love him to her heart's content.
The scorching reverie of their lovemaking was cut short by a noise behind her. Turning around, she saw a few students walk in first, followed by Jordan Ivers. Not moving from where she stood by the windows, she watched as the tall young man walked into the room. As if on habit, her eyes roved over his athletic body, taking in the casual way his bag was slung over one shoulder or the way his stylish yellow polo shirt stretched across his chest and arms showing off smooth dark skin.
Nadira felt a ghost of a smile creep across her lips as she took her own seat. Jordan was without a doubt beautiful but how could it compare to her djinn whose skin was like a starless sky, whose eyes glowed like white flames.
Taking her notebook from her bag, she felt the sensation of being watched. Looking up, Nadira blinked in slight shock to see Jordan's uncharacteristic stunned expression.
"Nadira?" he asked as if he couldn't believe it. Seeing her give him a frowning smile, his face brightened and he turned in his seat towards her. "Oh shit, for a second, I didn't even recognize you. How are you? You were gone for so long," his words trailed away as his eyes darted all over her form, taking in every detail from her fitted blue-jeans, her black blouse, and red wedges.
