Shock wedged my breath somewhere between my toes and head. Crap. What did she want? To return the punch I’d given her in the nose? Kill me because she didn’t approve of me as a mate for her kin?

Whatever the answer, I kept a wary distance from her.

Black tendrils covering her body turned to dust and blew away. The bindings on her wrists dropped to the ground and melted on the marble. Now she was free of the vizier’s spell holding her captive in the city.

She reached out to touch me, and I recoiled.

“Sorry about your nose,” I said, hoping this was enough for her to leave me alone.

Her fingers traced the crusty blood on the edge of her nostrils. “You have the heart of a djinn. A fire within you. I understand why my brothers consider you their mate.”

Heart of a djinn? What the hell did that mean? I didn’t possess an inner flame or any magic. She must have hit her head a lot harder than I’d thought. I wrapped my arms around my waist as she retreated.

“Great, thanks for freeing me, Brothers,” she told Zand and Dahvi.

Zand climbed off Ali to press his forehead to hers.

“Can you forgive me?” she asked, clasping the back of his neck.

Zand clapped a meaty hand on her back. “Of course, Sister. But you owe us a debt under djinn law.”

Behind them, Ali looked at me and mouthed the words, who’s that?

I shrugged, planning on telling him later. Right now, I wanted to make sure she kept her mitts of my man. My hands fisted in case she tried anything funny, ready to send her down for the count for a second time today.

She smiled and bowed. “Ask of me what you will.”

“I owe a debt to a woman named Red who dwells in the land of the Darkwoods.” His jaw tightened as he glanced at me. “Serve in my place, and void my agreement with her.”

Excitement washed across my heart. Was that even possible? It bloody well better be. I didn’t want to lose Zand or any of my genies, especially not to that freaky weirdo, The Collector. I held my breath, waiting for the djinn to agree to the deal.

Her posture turned rigid as if she didn’t like the idea of service after just being freed. “Three wishes? That is all?”

Zand nodded. “And I also promised her my brother’s flying carpet.”

Her jaw tightened. “Very well. Bring me the carpet.”

I blinked, not believing she’d consented so easily. No one in Haven would have agreed to that crappy deal after they were freed from imprisonment. But I didn’t say a thing, not wanting her to change her mind.

Dahvi said something in a foreign language and his carpet sailed through the vizier’s window.

“Come,” the Shaitan told the carpet.

Sand whirled around the djinn and carried her away, out the window and into the sky.

Thank the gods. I didn’t want her around any longer than necessary. The words “psycho bitch” came to mind.

“I can’t believe she agreed,” I said, throwing my arms around Zand’s neck.

“It is djinn law,” said Zand, placing a sweet kiss on my lips. “If she refuses, the spirits of the dead djinn will haunt her until her dying day.”

That didn’t sound very comforting. I certainly wouldn’t want to be hounded by ghosts intent on pressuring me into delivering a favor.

I stared into Zand’s eyes. All brown now, without the red rim, as using his magic had depleted him. After the effort he’d just expended to save us, I wasn’t surprised. He’d need a good week of rest. Preferably in bed beside me. Don’t know how we would fit all three genies in my tiny shack. The bed was only big enough for Ali and me. But we’d figure it out. I probably wasn’t going to be getting much sleep, anyway, sneaking off with my new mates.

“Gross,” said Ali at mine and Zand’s smooch. “Get a room!”

Zand and I laughed.

Dahvi came up behind us, carrying Kaza.

“Thanks for the sands, Brother.” Kaza gave Zand a hug.

What? Dahvi had given Kaza the sands of Katar already? I glanced down at the yellow genie’s leg and it had healed. Amazing. I clasped my hands together. I waited patiently for my turn to hug my fun loving genie.

Zand smirked and patted Kaza’s shoulder. “Enjoy the fart, Brother?”

Kaza punched Zand’s arm. “You’re in for a world of pain.”

Zand rubbed Kaza’s hair. “I welcome it.”

I couldn’t help it. A snort came out. After all my trouble of late, I looked forward to some good laughs. Just not the camel poo in my pillow kind. Gods. What was Kaza going to do to my shack in his quest for vengeance against Zand?

“Isn’t our desert queen sexy, Brother?” Kaza asked Zand.

The red genie grunted his approval.

This time, I pinched Kaza on the behind. “Desert queen’s better than Master.”

He chuckled and slapped my ass.

“Guys, you’re making me ill,” joked Ali in between little coughs.

Zand whacked him on the shoulder, bringing on a severe splutter. What should have been over and done with a few coughs turned into a longer-than-usual episode. The last time this happened, my brother couldn’t breathe. The genie tapped Ali’s back to calm him down, but that just made things worse, and he gasped for air.

My heart hammered against my ribcage. “Ali, I’ll get you some water.”

I hurried away to the sounds of his croaks. When I returned with a pitcher from the vizier’s side table, Ali’s eyes bulged, and he gasped for air. Zand’s thumps on Ali’s chest stopped his hacks, and he wheezed for breath.

My brother didn’t have a week. All the excitement and danger was making him sicker.

I lifted the pitcher to his lips, and he took a sip.

“Azar,” he said, clutching my so tight I lost circulation to my hands. “It’s getting worse. I…I need the medicine. Now.”

My insides crumbled, and words tangled on my tongue. I didn’t know what to do. My genie’s hearts revealed they were dark with sorrow for not having enough power to create gold coins to help Ali. I glanced at each of them, seeking guidance.

Dahvi lifted the flame-shaped decoration from around his necklace. "We could sell this to raise the funds."

"No, Brother." Zand touched Dahvi's chest. "It's all you have left of your family."

I agreed. The genie was not sacrificing the last reminder of his heritage. We'd find another way. I always did. If it required me to steal something else, then I'd do it.

Dahvi pulled away. "Why do you always get to be the hero?"

Zand ducked his head as if his brother's words stung.

Fighting amongst ourselves was not going to solve anything. I advanced across the room, looking for something that had belonged to the vizier—something we might sell. Anything that wasn't smashed from our battle. I found a lamp stand with thick, heavy gold legs, and an inlaid gold-legged recliner, but both were too heavy to carry down to the pawnshop.

"We need something light to trade," I announced. “Jewels work best.”

Kaza lifted his head to look at me. "The vizier has two golden skulls I saw him use in a ritual."

The idea of the vizier worshipping some dark god made me quiver. After what the dark flame had done to me, I didn't want to touch anything used for dark magic.

"No," I said. "Nothing magical."

Zand stepped forward. "Dark magic needs to be eliminated."

Dahvi nodded. "Wrap the skulls in cloth. Have them smelted to eliminate its power."

That idea filled me with a buzz. I’d do anything to prevent someone else from getting hurt by creeps like the vizier. Once the sultan found out about the vizier’s death, the sultan would most likely put the skulls in his cave with all his other treasures. That left them open for someone else to steal. Someone who knew dark magic. No. No way.

"It’s settled then," I said with a smile.

“Hurry back, my desert queen,” warned Zand, limping as he carried my brother toward the staircase.

I took off, in search of the mysterious skulls. In the next chamber, I located them sitting on an altar covered in burning incense and candles. I wrapped them, along with a few rings and broaches, in silks and carried them back to Dahvi and Kaza who waited for me at the top of the stairs.

By the time we emerged out of the tunnel, the afternoon sun sat directly overhead, glaring down on us. Even with his darkened skin tone, my brother looked pale.

“Wait for me by the river,” I said to the genies and Ali.

Zand limped forward in protest. “You can’t go alone.”

I had to. Zand, Kaza, and Ali were weak. They needed Dahvi to watch over them. Me, on the other hand, I was used to going things alone. With the vizier gone, I wasn’t worried about the consequences. I kissed Zand’s hand, my brother’s forehead, and gave the other two genies a quick smooch on the lips.

“If I’m not back in two rotations of the sand glass,” I said. “Come looking for me.”

* * *

Sometime later, I arrived at the smelter on the outer limits of the city.

Before I entered, I removed the rings and broaches and slipped them into my pocket. Thick smoke piped out the furnace on the roof. The place stank like fire and molten metal.

“Hello,” I called out, admiring the metalworking tools and a raging furnace inside the workshop. The heat was intense, bringing on an instant sheen of sweat all over my body.

A middle-aged man with a stiff hip appeared a few moments later, carrying a freshly forged sword like those used by the palace guards. He dipped the glowing orange metal in a well of water, and it hissed and cooled. His skin was covered in grime and glistened with sweat.

“What can I do for you?” the metal smelter asked.

I pulled the skulls out from the silks. “I’d like to smelt these in exchange for one thousand markos.”

The blacksmith’s eyes widened, and he reached out a hand. “Where’d you get those?”

“Do you want them or not?” I folded one edge of the silk over the skulls.

“Don’t be hasty,” said the trader. “I’ll give you five hundred markos for them.”

Five hundred? What a joke! Did he think me a fool? A thief like me knew the value of gold and other such treasures. I wrapped the goods and turned to leave.

“Eight hundred,” the trader stuttered.

I considered the offer for a few moments. The broach and ring should cover the additional two hundred markos I needed for Ali’s medicine. But I had extra mouths to feed now. The genies, my brother, and I also needed some food and water.

I turned to face the trader. “Nine hundred and you have a deal.”

He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “Give me a moment.” He shuffled away and returned a few seconds later carrying a velvet pouch.

We exchanged the items. I loosened the strings on the bag and tipped it upside down, spilling the coins in my palm. I counted them. Nine one-hundred markos. Perfect.

“Thank you,” I said, returning the coins to the pouch.

The smelter was transfixed with the gold skulls. “Pleasure doing business with you.” The way he said this raised my suspicions, but I didn’t stop to contemplate his meaning because I had to get to the pawnshop, then the apothecary for Ali’s medicine.

I ran as fast as I could through the city, pushing my ankle and lungs to their limits to get to the pawnshop.

Once I had another five hundred markos in my pocket, I pushed onto to the medicine shop. Along the way, I got stuck in a large crowd, and had to shove my way through. When I finally arrived, the awnings were pulled down over the windows, and my heart sank to the bottom of my chest.

Damn. The store had closed.

But when a customer dressed in a cotton thobe emerged, I bustled past him and through the doorway. The bell tinkled as the door slammed closed after me. Inside, the shop smelled of the finest-quality incense and herbs. A new stand had been erected since I’d last visited, which held shelves of teapots and packets of various leaf brews.

I emptied the velvet pouch of markos onto the counter. “I want to buy dragon’s thistle oil.”

The shop owner blinked several times and dropped the giant sack of herbs he carried. “Where did you get this?” He bit one of the coins as if he thought them fake.

I stared at him hard. “Does it matter?”

The shop owner brushed the coins off the counter into his waiting palm. “I will need a week to prepare it.”

“No.” I gripped the counter. “I need it now. Do you have any? I’ll take an old batch. My brother’s health is declining.”

“Wait here.” The owner disappeared into the back of the shop.

I paced along the sandstone floor, praying to the gods with every fiber of my being that there was some oil left. I’d come too far to fail. They couldn’t let me down now. Not when my world teetered on a knife’s edge.

Some moments later, the shop owner returned carrying a small vial full of a honey-colored liquid. “This is only two doses worth. Your brother will need five in total. One every three days. This should tide him over until I can make the rest.”

I raced behind the counter and gave the man a hug. “Oh, thank you. Thank you.” I kissed him on the hand.

The shop owner patted me on the back of my wrist. “Come back in five days. I will have the rest ready for you.”