A sudden wind picked up in the tunnel, tossing my hair over my shoulders. Sand swirled on the ground, in small circles at first, then widening and lifting into the air, until it was a miniature whirlwind.

My stomach locked tight as things got even crazier.

The building tornado pounded us with dirt, cobwebs, water droplets, and dust. I lost sight of my genies through the haze tearing around us. Fear clutched at my throat as I groped blindly for them, grazing one of their arms. Wind ripped at my clothes, dragging me away, and my feet scraped along the ground.

“Azar,” shouted Zand.

“Where are you?” I yelled back.

Strong hands grabbed my waist, steadying me.

Zand.

But even his great strength wasn’t enough to keep us rooted. Gale-force winds tossed us aside, and we crashed into a wall, pinned there by the wind’s pressure.

At that instant, my life flashed before my eyes. Death snaring my genies and me in the tunnel. Ali and Kaza, perishing at the hands of the vizier or their infections. My heart shrank at the thought.

The debris hitting us eased off, allowing me to glance up.

A feminine shape made of sand began to form inside the whirlwind—first her legs, then her torso, her arms, her shoulders, and her head. With a loud snap, the dirt transformed into skin and bone. In an instant, the squall died down, but my ears still rang from all the noise.

A djinn stood before us…more precisely, a Shaitan like Kaza, judging by her golden crop top and rippling, silk pants. Talk about a looker. Perfect golden skin without any blemishes. Hair, whisked up in a tight ponytail and not a single lock out of place. She stood tall, with plenty of cleavage on display, making my small chest feel inadequate by comparison. Large, round eyes, haunted by years of captivity within the city’s wall, watched us.

Why had my genies chosen me as their mate over someone as goddess-like as her? Or the several thousand other stunners back in djinn land?

Dahvi scraped to his feet from the wall opposite us.

Something about her cold expression didn’t sit right in my belly. I scrambled over to yank him back down, but he moved out of my reach.

Zand remained by my side like a good guard dog. He grabbed me tight, as if ready to spin me out of harm’s way in a second. Still, his protective presence didn’t settle the uneasy feeling in my guts.

“Sister,” Dahvi cried, rushing to give the djinn a hug.

Dark lightning charged on the onyx wristbands she wore—symbols of her imprisonment to the vizier. She raised a palm covered in henna tattoos stretching all the way up her arm. But that didn't stop the big, cuddly genie. At his embrace, she stiffened, and her expression hardened. Her yellow irises flashed with magic. Another blustery wind whisked Dahvi away, tossing him at the wall, and he thudded onto the ground beside us.

“Dahvi!” Instinctively, I jerked free of Zand to go to my blue genie.

A force smacked me against the bricks. Pain splinted up my spine and through my skull. For a few moments, I couldn’t see past the black dots blurring my vision. When my eyes refocused, I found the same invisible hand holding Zand, too.

“Sorry, Brothers,” said the djinn, her voice icy and her wristbands spitting dark bolts of magic. “But the vizier gave me a choice. My freedom or yours.”

Shock struck me like lightning. That bitch. She was betraying her kind. The selfish part of me understood the Shaitan’s need for survival. But the compassionate side did not.

Several balls of lava pelted the Shaitan. She screamed, clutching her arm, and stumbled backward.

The djinn’s magic hold on me released.

Zand’s stance declared war, legs and arms spread wide. He was ready to get the djinn if she made another move.

An assault of wind battered us, slamming me to the ground. Being the easy target didn’t sit well with me. I wasn’t going to get ten meters down the hall without being beaten to death by the Shaitan’s air magic.

The genies held their ground, lifting their arms to shield their eyes.

A tight ball of panic looped in my chest. I had to face facts; we were in deep trouble. My genies still weren’t at full capacity, and they’d be facing off with a more powerful being that could kick their asses. But if they couldn’t get past her, we stood no chance of saving Ali and Kaza.

“Brother,” said Zand, handing Dahvi the glass containing the magical sands. “Give this to Kaza. I’ll handle this.”

Dahvi accepted the cure with a nod.

“What?” I backed away, unable to handle the heat Zand gave off. “No!”

Deep in my soul, I knew I couldn’t stop him. He’d die fighting to save me. Each of his steps forward told me that was his plan.

“We have no quarrel with you, Sister,” warned Zand. “Join us, and we will help you get free.”

“You can’t defeat the vizier,” snarled the Shaitan, black streaks of magic circling her. “He keeps me trapped here with his dark magic.”

Suddenly our odds of success felt incredibly small. Having to fight a djinn then the vizier.

Dahvi flung me behind him.

A vortex spun around the Shaitan as she beat at Zand with all her might. He struggled against the bluster, inching forward slowly. Several fireballs exploded off him and pounded her. The force field of wind swirling around her deflected the attack, tossing them onto the bricks, which melted beneath the fiery assault.

I peeked around Dahvi, digging my nails into his arms. Watching the two fight, I felt utterly powerless. With every fiber of my being, I longed to tear that bitch's head off for siding with the vizier. For daring to threaten my genies and me. But that was never going to happen in a million years.

Zand jabbed a glowing arm through the Shaitan’s winds, grabbing her by the neck and choking her. She kicked at him, punching him with one hand as she waved the other, as if she was calling to someone or something. Black tendrils reached out and struck the wall. Blocks grazed across each other as they shifted. Two flung through the air.

Dahvi pushed me to the ground. The bricks smashed on the wall above us and thumped onto the ground next to us.

“Very well.” Zand crushed the Shaitan against the wall. “You made your choice, Sister.”

She scratched at his arm, assaulting him with magic, dulling and shrinking his red flames. Using what little magic he had recuperated weakened his inner flame. How much longer could he hold off the Shaitan?

Dahvi scooped me into his arms. “Come. Let us get our brothers.”

“We can’t leave him—”

Dahvi silenced my protests by tossing out a blast of magic, and it trailed along the walls. The tree roots responded, growing in size and crawling along the stone. They seized the Shaitan, tying her to the wall.

Dahvi carried me into the stairwell. “Zand has faced worse. She’s a Shaitan. They’re not as powerful as Ifrit.”

“Yes, but he’s a genie and not at full power,” I contended.

“Neither is she,” replied Dahvi, carrying us down a long hall. “Dark magic binds her power to the city. She cannot utilize it all until she’s released.”

This news comforted me somewhat. At least the Shaitan and Zand were on somewhat of an even playing field.

Within a few moments, we’d reached the vizier’s tower, where Dahvi paused at the bottom of the staircase. For a moment, we stared deep into each other’s eyes. Waves of Marid magic floated around his pupils. Love for me radiated deep within his soul. It flowed from me, too. We hugged for a long moment before he pulled away.

“Ready?” he asked, lowering me to the marble staircase.

“Ready,” I said with a forceful nod, even though my gut told me otherwise.

What we encountered in the vizier’s tower at the top was not what I had expected. I imagined shadow central, red eyes in the darkness, putrid, rotting garbage, and the smell of decay. To my surprise, tall arches and columns allowed plenty of light to filter through. Colored silks puffed from the breezes straying in from the balcony. Incense sticks burned, spreading the scent of frankincense through the tower. Candles flickered in the stained-glass lamps dangling from the ceiling. Geometric-patterned tiles decorated the floors and walls. Gold inlaid practically every item of furniture, showing no expense had been spared.

Hated to say it, but I had to admit the vizier’s taste in furnishings were pretty classy…unlike the man himself.

We continued into the next room, where Dahvi stopped dead.

Chains bound Kaza to the floor. Golden streams of magic teamed off him and into the dark flame flickering on a marble stand. Bits of his gray, cracked skin flaked off. His torso sagged over his bent legs.

My pulse streamed. Where was Ali? Did the vizier have him chained somewhere else? Was he already dead? The last thought ground my insides to pieces.

Dahvi and I were at Kaza’s side in a flash.

“Brother!” Dahvi clutched Kaza’s face and lifted it. Dahvi’s skin darkened from the effect of the dark flame.

The yellow gave me a weak wink. “There’s my desert queen,” he croaked.

“Oh, my love.” I stroked his face, and the same darkness touched me. “Are you all right? Where is Ali?”

“Never been better.” Kaza feigned a smile, but behind his expression I sensed his torture. “That old sack of bones has our little brother.”

I smiled. Knowing Kaza considered Ali a part of his family made me feel good. Using our bond, I searched inside Kaza, sensing his declining heartbeat. By the looks of it, he didn’t have long before his life force gave out completely. The ache in my chest threatened to split me in two. We had to get him out of here, but how? Messing with the dark flame would mean certain suicide, and I didn’t know any magic to free him.

“Which one of you devils farted in the lamp?” asked Kaza.

Gods. Always a joker. But this wasn’t the time or place to goof around.

“Whoever it was,” warned Kaza, “there’s a prank coming your way.”

I imagined Kaza setting up some elaborate practical joke—but only if we survived.

Dahvi laughed. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Brother.”

“Hurry up and kill that sack of bones, would you?” said Kaza.

My fingers itched for it. For my freedom. For the genies’ freedom. For my brother’s life. For my new family.

“Welcome.” The eerie, familiar voice came from a darkened hallway. “I wasn’t expecting you so early.”

The vizier!

All over my body pinched as if ants nipped at me. My suspicions that he’d been expecting us were horribly confirmed.

The creep slid out of the shadows, clutching my brother’s shoulder with his bony fingers. Chains on Ali’s wrists and ankles clinked as he shuffled forward. Bruises marked his cheeks and arms and even his chest above the line of his cotton shirt. Lines streaked his dirty face, no doubt caused by the tears he’d cried.

I didn’t need genie magic to stir my inner fire. God’s fire blazed all throughout my body.

“Hand over my brother,” I said, refusing to let this creep say too much when his voice grated on my every nerve.

A long laugh bellowed from the vizier, and he steepled his fingers. “My dear, street rat. You are not in a position to negotiate.”

I still have two genies, buddy. Well…one at the moment.

“Ali,” I said, struggling to remain calm for his sake. “I’ll get you out of here, okay?”

My brother whimpered as the vizier rolled his wrist and hand.

Dahvi stormed forward. Dark characters representing some foreign language glowed on the marble he stepped on. Black flames sprung out of the floor. A grey cone of energy rose from the floor surrounding him. He smacked into it and stumbled backward, holding his nose.

The vizier wore a smile like a vulture about to dine on a camel. “I’m afraid, dear street rat, that all your bargaining chips are now in my possession.”

Dahvi smashed his fist against the barrier trapping him. Blue ripples radiated outward from the gloom. The panic claiming his face cut at my insides.

“No.” I put my hands where Dahvi’s were, and electricity zapped me, and I stepped back.

Two genies out of action didn’t leave me much to work with. I could only pray to the gods that Zand came out of his battle alive and with some juice left to take on the vizier.

Another laugh erupted from the evil man. He enjoyed playing with people. The cat hunting the mice. This bastard was sick.

My heart screamed at me to crack him on the nose. My mind said otherwise. The creep had untold dark magic. That left me with nothing to fight with. What was I going to do? When Zand showed up, was he going to walk into another trap, too? Then what? We’d really be stuffed.

The vizier glanced over my shoulder and clapped his hands as if he was delighted with something.

Then I heard it. Someone groaning. Something being dragged along the floor.

My stomach plummeted to my toes. Every muscle tensed as I turned.

The Shaitan entered the room, dragging Zand by one wrist. Bruises marked his entire body, and blood wept from several wounds. What had she done to him? How had she defeated him? Last time I’d seen him, he had taken some blows, but overall, he’d seemed to have the upper hand.

I pressed my open palm against my stomach. “Zand,” I whimpered. Stinging tears pricked my eyes, and my hands flew to my mouth. No. Not Zand. My protector. My last hope, trickling down the drain.

Defeat flashed in his eyes as his gaze met mine. Our connection told me he was badly wounded both physically and magically.

I wanted to scream.

The Shaitan bitch dropped Zand, and his torso thumped onto the ground. She smiled at me and kicked him, sending him sliding across the floor. He stopped right next to Dahvi. The same foreign writing activated on the marble. Dark flames circled Zand and a cone of magic circled him, too.

My blood rushed through my veins like a shooting star. She’d picked the wrong side. I didn’t know how, but I would kill her.

The vizier collected the dark fire in his palm. “Very good, my dear djinn,” he said, running his hands across the flames, as if stroking a pet.

It sent a sickening chill through me that filled me with dread. I felt the call of its darkness, like I had the last time we’d met.

“Now grant my freedom, sorcerer,” said the Shaitan.

“Once the genies’ powers are mine, I shall set you free.”