Chapter 23
Zain caught me when I stumbled into the alleyway back in Denver. Against his chest, his steadying arms gripping me, I took a deep breath, which also meant inhaling him. Even after all we’d been through, his scent still affected me, still had the ability to intoxicate me.
“Are you okay?” he murmured against my hair.
I didn’t say anything for a moment. Everything I knew about my world had tilted yet again.
My mother knew about jinn, knew about this terrifying world and kept it from us all.
But worst of all, she was killed by a jinn—a div, even.
Something that sounded even worse than the jinn I’d encountered.
A sharp ache hit my chest. Did they know my name because of my mum?
Zain held me away from him, eyes searching my pale face, watching the rapid rise and fall of my chest.
“Rox,” he said, lifting my head up to see me better.
“I can’t breathe,” I ground out. The words said aloud made me panic more.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe.
The cold burn of going through the portal again hadn’t seemed as bad as it did the first time, but right now, I had no control over my trembling, and I felt for sure I was dying. I could barely even see Zain, even though he was bent down and looking at my face, his words muffled.
And then he lifted me into his arms. I was vaguely aware of being put into his car. I leaned against the headrest, trying to gather myself. Zain rested his hands lightly on my shoulders.
“You’re having a panic attack,” he said loudly, though still gentle. “Take a deep breath in for five counts, okay?”
I shook my head. “It’s not,” I let out. “I don’t have them.”
“Try it,” he said, and began counting to five.
My breath was shaky and ragged as I drew in a breath for five counts.
Then he told me to exhale for five, and I struggled, taking in another quick breath.
We did this multiple times, until I was able to extend my breathing in and out for the five counts.
The ragged, gnawing feeling in my chest slowly subsided.
“Slam your feet on the floor,” he urged.
“Huh?”
“It helps.”
While taking a slow breath in, I stomped my feet on the floor of the car, once, twice, three times.
With each pound, I felt heavier, less out of control, more grounded.
I don’t know how long we were in the car, but eventually I no longer felt like I was dying, the pain in my chest subsiding to a dull ache.
I sat hunched, while Zain reached over to rub my back.
The sun was setting ahead of us and the clock on the dashboard read 6:49.
On one side of us was a restaurant, the outside seating cluttered with people enjoying a summer’s evening.
I caught eyes with a white man who was watching us suspiciously.
Despite everything that had happened, everywhere we had been, the world was behaving as normal.
Zain’s fingertips brushed away stray tears I hadn’t realized I’d shed. His touch was gentle, feather soft.
“How are you feeling now?” Zain asked.
“Better, thank you,” I whispered. “I’ve never had anything like that happen to me before. How did you know what it was?”
“Some of the guys on the varsity team had them,” he said. “With all we learned, it makes sense that your body would have that reaction. I shouldn’t have taken you there.” He said the last part quietly, like he was berating himself.
“I asked you to take me.”
“Yeah, well. I should have known better.” His eyes tightened. “I’m sorry, Roxana.”
“What for?”
“For everything. For bringing you into this, for what happened to your mom, for all of it.”
Now that my body had calmed, I really saw the boy in front of me.
Pain was etched into his features, from the tightness of his jaw to the dark look in his eyes to his lowered brows.
He gently gnawed at his bottom lip, gaze fixed on the dashboard, the air between us thick.
When he turned to me, his teeth released his lip.
I redirected my attention to his eyes, now doughy.
Neither of us spoke. I couldn’t form the right words. Jamshid had uncovered so much, but in doing so he had unlocked a whole new set of questions. What business did my mum have with jinn? And when he said our union was forbidden…?
I had a feeling Zain was thinking the same thing.
“We should probably leave here,” I said faintly.
“Yeah.” He gripped the steering wheel with both hands, his knuckles white, like he was forcing himself not to break the wheel off altogether. “But first…” He pulled the two vials out of his pocket. The liquid inside was clear. “If we don’t want the jinn intercepting us again…”
I reached for the parchment, and written in script was:
This potion will only last seven days. It will render you undetectable to those who wish to track you. You must mix each vial with both of your blood before drinking one each. With your blood in each other’s system, it will muddy your scent.
“We have to drink each other’s blood?” I said.
Zain nodded. “It’s a bit gross, but…”
“Necessary,” I finished for him.
What happened next was quick, possibly because we were in public and getting it over with was the best course of action.
Zain retrieved the now clean dagger from his glove compartment and pricked the end of his finger, plopping two drops of blood into each vial.
I did the same; it stung way more than Zain let on.
We swirled each vial, the liquid now a gross pink.
“Ready?” Zain asked, lifting his vial in the air. I tapped mine to his. “I have to be,” I muttered, and we both downed the potion. It was metallic and bitter.
“This is only a temporary solution.” Zain sighed. “But better than nothing.”
“Will it work on the figure in my dreams, do you think?”
“I’m not sure, as that jinn seems to have some kind of link to you to be able to enter your dreams in the first place.”
A link.
I gulped, not saying anything else as he pulled out of the spot.
I took my phone out of my bag. I had messages from my dad informing me that he had returned from the conference and was going to Penny’s for dinner with Ehsan.
He said he’d left money on the countertop for me to get myself some takeout.
The mundanity of the messages, the fact that they had been sent when I was in another dimension, was jarring.
I replied to say that I was having dinner with Cleo, and he merely sent a thumbs-up in response.
It was odd how little he cared when he was distracted by Penny. I never knew what mood he would be in.
A thought, one I’d first had back in Jamshid’s home, came to me. I was unable to push it away, couldn’t keep what came out next inside me. “Just because Jamshid said we were twin flames doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s not like I expect you to fall in love with me or something.”
We were down my street in record time.
“Rox…” Zain began with a sigh.
“Park on the next block over,” I said, turning my head away from the house as he drove past it. “My dad,” I explained.
“Right, yeah.” Zain stopped the car around the corner and killed the ignition.
I couldn’t face him; I shouldn’t have said anything, and from his tone, I definitely didn’t want to hear what he was going to say, so instead I unbuckled my seat belt.
“I better go,” I said, picking up my bag from the floor. Zain put his hand over mine, his grip firm, but then a second later gentle.
“Will you look at me?” he asked.
Reluctantly, I did. Zain’s eyes were pleading.
“I shouldn’t have brought you into all this,” he said. “It’s not the past that scares me, but what it means for you.”
“I don’t—”
“We always die. That’s what Jamshid said. Our love always ends with us dead. I don’t want that for you.”
“It doesn’t have to happen. It’s not like it’s guaranteed.”
Zain didn’t seem convinced. “He said our past lives—not just one, but all of them. And it makes sense that it would happen now. Everything I touch I ruin.” He spoke so quietly I wasn’t sure I had heard him right.
“What? That’s not true.”
“I didn’t tell you how my mom died, did I?
” he said. I shook my head. I had been waiting for the right time to ask him again, deciding to give him the space to tell me.
“My dad accused her of having an affair after I was born. Because I came out of the womb with blond hair and they both had dark hair. The day I was born, he immediately rejected me, shouting in the hospital that my mom had cheated on him. He made a scene, trashed the hospital. He was, still probably is, a terrible man. He told everyone that my mom had an affair, and her family believed him. Everyone did. I don’t think he ever loved her, can love anything, really.
” He paused, taking a breath. “She must have had postpartum depression, and being ostracized by all her family and friends…she took her own life.” His eyes were glazed, and it broke my heart. My own eyes were wet, too.
“Oh, Zain,” I whispered.
“Only after she died did he do a paternity test. She hadn’t had an affair, obviously. But it was my fault. For being different. And he still didn’t want me, didn’t want a reminder of it all, so my aunt took me in. My mom died, in part, because of me.”
My hand moved over to stroke his cheek. His features were fixed and solid, eyebrows furrowed, lips in a firm line. But when my hand touched his face, he softened, relaxing into my touch.
“Zain,” I whispered. “None of that was your fault.”
He shut his eyes and shook his head ever so slightly.
“No, you need to listen to me. What your dad did, what he drove your mum to, none of that is your fault. You were only a baby.”
“I don’t want to be the reason you die, too.”
The words were sobering, but I had to be strong for him, so I gulped down any fears and said, “I won’t. We won’t die, Zain.” I ran my fingers along his brow. “Thank you for telling me. I’m always here if you want to talk about it.”
His eyes opened then. “Thank you.” A small smile touched his lips. “Shouldn’t I be comforting you, the human?”