Read Online Forsaken (The Djinn Wars Book 5) by Christine Pope - Free Book Online
Authors: Christine Pope
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moment, Madison stared at the closed door, as if she wasn’t quite sure that the djinn might not let himself right back in. But the door remained shut, and her own weariness was becoming too difficult to ignore. She did need to rest and let her body begin to heal itself. As to what was going to happen next, she didn’t have a clue.
She figured she’d deal with that when the time came.
* * *
M adison Reynolds . Qadim let the unfamiliar syllables roll over in his mind. He’d been speaking the truth when he’d said he’d never heard that name before, but he thought it suited her. Her name was strong and yet somehow graceful, just like the woman who bore it.
He hoped he hadn’t been too obvious in the way he had looked at her. His every impulse had been to drink her in, to study every angle and curve, but he knew she would have found such an inspection off-putting at best. She was injured, and weary. She needed time to become herself again.
And time as well to learn she had no reason to fear him.
Damn Hasan al-Abyad and all his murderous brethren. Qadim had seen the darkness in Madison’s clear eyes, could only guess at the horrors she must have witnessed. During his demolition efforts, he’d come across streets where bloodstains had been baked right into the strange black substance humans used to pave their roads. He hadn’t wanted to guess at the kind of violence that had created such a permanent marker of its aftermath…and yet Madison had seen these things for herself. He supposed he should be glad she hadn’t made another attempt to flee him, even with all her injuries.
Surely that must be a good sign.
She had said she wasn’t hungry, but he knew her body would require nourishment to assist it with the healing process. While she slept, he would make something delectable for her to eat. He would have to hope that she wouldn’t mind if he ate his evening meal at the same time she had hers. That shouldn’t be too much to ask.
The djinn had always been able to summon the components for their meals from wherever they wished, and so Qadim had no need to worry about all the food that had spoiled in the hotel’s freezers and cupboards months earlier. He’d cleared all that away as soon as he’d determined the Hotel Andaluz would be his new home, then made sure everything was cleaned thoroughly. Many of his people did not care to cook, and conjured their meals already made, but Qadim had always enjoyed the process. There was something uniquely sensual about combining the ingredients to their best advantage, to experimenting and tasting and coming up with infinite variations of the same theme.
And, to be fair, he also enjoyed pouring some wine for himself to help things move along.
Because Madison was so recently injured, he wanted to make something that would be easy for her to eat and would not require any cutting. And not too heavy, either, for he wanted her to sleep easily without an over-lavish meal weighing on her stomach. A variation of an Indian dish he’d long admired would do very well, with rice and vegetables, and using chicken instead of lamb.
The ingredients he needed waited for him, either laid out on the counter or sitting in the refrigerator. While he preferred the softer, warmer glow of candlelight, he did think that electricity had its uses, especially when it came to preserving food.
As he busied himself with preparing the meal, Qadim could not prevent his thoughts from wandering upward, to the ninth floor of the hotel where Madison Reynolds slept in her borrowed bed. Just the mere image of her glorious hair spread out on the pillow was enough to send a shiver of arousal through him, but he pushed it aside. He would not deny to himself that he wanted her, but she was injured and afraid. He must be gentle and kind, and hope that she would warm to him as time passed.
Gentle and kind, he thought with a wry twist to his mouth. I doubt there are many who would use those words to describe
She figured she’d deal with that when the time came.
* * *
M adison Reynolds . Qadim let the unfamiliar syllables roll over in his mind. He’d been speaking the truth when he’d said he’d never heard that name before, but he thought it suited her. Her name was strong and yet somehow graceful, just like the woman who bore it.
He hoped he hadn’t been too obvious in the way he had looked at her. His every impulse had been to drink her in, to study every angle and curve, but he knew she would have found such an inspection off-putting at best. She was injured, and weary. She needed time to become herself again.
And time as well to learn she had no reason to fear him.
Damn Hasan al-Abyad and all his murderous brethren. Qadim had seen the darkness in Madison’s clear eyes, could only guess at the horrors she must have witnessed. During his demolition efforts, he’d come across streets where bloodstains had been baked right into the strange black substance humans used to pave their roads. He hadn’t wanted to guess at the kind of violence that had created such a permanent marker of its aftermath…and yet Madison had seen these things for herself. He supposed he should be glad she hadn’t made another attempt to flee him, even with all her injuries.
Surely that must be a good sign.
She had said she wasn’t hungry, but he knew her body would require nourishment to assist it with the healing process. While she slept, he would make something delectable for her to eat. He would have to hope that she wouldn’t mind if he ate his evening meal at the same time she had hers. That shouldn’t be too much to ask.
The djinn had always been able to summon the components for their meals from wherever they wished, and so Qadim had no need to worry about all the food that had spoiled in the hotel’s freezers and cupboards months earlier. He’d cleared all that away as soon as he’d determined the Hotel Andaluz would be his new home, then made sure everything was cleaned thoroughly. Many of his people did not care to cook, and conjured their meals already made, but Qadim had always enjoyed the process. There was something uniquely sensual about combining the ingredients to their best advantage, to experimenting and tasting and coming up with infinite variations of the same theme.
And, to be fair, he also enjoyed pouring some wine for himself to help things move along.
Because Madison was so recently injured, he wanted to make something that would be easy for her to eat and would not require any cutting. And not too heavy, either, for he wanted her to sleep easily without an over-lavish meal weighing on her stomach. A variation of an Indian dish he’d long admired would do very well, with rice and vegetables, and using chicken instead of lamb.
The ingredients he needed waited for him, either laid out on the counter or sitting in the refrigerator. While he preferred the softer, warmer glow of candlelight, he did think that electricity had its uses, especially when it came to preserving food.
As he busied himself with preparing the meal, Qadim could not prevent his thoughts from wandering upward, to the ninth floor of the hotel where Madison Reynolds slept in her borrowed bed. Just the mere image of her glorious hair spread out on the pillow was enough to send a shiver of arousal through him, but he pushed it aside. He would not deny to himself that he wanted her, but she was injured and afraid. He must be gentle and kind, and hope that she would warm to him as time passed.
Gentle and kind, he thought with a wry twist to his mouth. I doubt there are many who would use those words to describe
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