Harley Merlin 12 by Bella Forrest (story books to read TXT) 📗

their overlords by doing something that might get them in trouble. Getting on my bad side would qualify.”

I looked toward the dunes, half expecting to see a sandstorm rising in the distance. Fortunately, we only had natural wind to deal with, and the spiky grains of sand flying in our faces.

“I’ve heard of djinn who haunt cemeteries. Is that true?” Santana asked, her dark hair whipping back in shadowed tendrils. A tremor went up my spine. She’d been spending too much time with Tatyana. Then again, what was she supposed to do when I made excuses not to see her? Sit alone in her room? Not likely, and not what I wanted for her.

Abdhi clasped his hands. “Beastly creatures. As a whole, the djinn like to pretend the Ghul don’t belong to us.”

“You mean ghouls?” Eerie beings that devoured people who happened to be in cemeteries at the wrong time.

“A Western bastardization of a perfectly good word. I mean what I say—Ghul.” Abdhi shot me a disapproving look. “Although, the meaning is more or less the same: flesh-eating creatures who feast on the living and the dead.”

Santana nodded eagerly. “A friend told me they encountered a few.”

“Is your friend of the female or male persuasion?” Abdhi asked, interested.

“Female.”

He made a noise of understanding. “Then she was likely at less risk, unless it was a Qutub.”

“The things you clean your ears with?” Santana squinted, putting her hand across her eyes to protect them from the sand hissing across the dunes—hopefully not the sign of an Ifrit on the rise.

Abdhi chuckled. “You’re amusing, for a mortal.”

“A Qutub is the animal form of a Ghul, right?” I found the section in the book.

“I’d be impressed if you hadn’t just read it.” Abdhi snickered. “But you are correct, and they are the lowest of the low.”

“What’s the other, non-animal kind? It doesn’t say in here; it just says Ghul and Qutub,” I interjected, closing my eyes against the sand.

“That’s because the ‘other kind’ are just called Ghuls,” Abdhi replied bluntly.

“And they appear as beautiful women who lure men to their deaths?” This book had everything a person could want to know about djinn.

Abdhi gave a belly laugh and performed a charade of walking on hooves, though it gave off more of a T-Rex appearance. “In theory, but you’d have to be fairly stupid to fall for it, as they can never get rid of the donkey legs of their natural form.”

I frowned. “According to this, there are several djinn who like to trick mortal beings.”

“Mm-hmm, especially men—being the more foolish of the sexes,” Abdhi retorted.

“Hey!” I protested.

He shrugged. “Where beautiful ladies are concerned, men often lose their minds completely.”

Does he know? His words nagged at my insecurities surrounding Santana, and the wall between us that was part of the reason for us trekking through this freezing cold desert in the small hours of the morning. Had I lost my mind for Santana and the future we might never have? I supposed trying to let go of the most incredible thing in my life would qualify as being borderline insane.

“What about Si’lat?” I moved to the next description on the page, changing the subject.

“They also take the form of beautiful women to trick men into… you know, laying with them.” He gave a mischievous wink. “Think succubus. There are Qarinah and Shiqq who behave similarly, though the former is associated with sleep paralysis, where they suck the dreams and nightmares from their immobilized victims and feed on them.”

To my surprise, we’d covered a lot of ground while talking. Then again, most of the landscape looked the same, and sand dunes seemed to have an impish way of shifting when you weren’t watching.

“And the Hatif, who mimic the voices of loved ones.” Abdhi continued on our whistle-stop tour of djinn classification. “They don’t possess solid form, but if you’re ever alone and hear the voice of someone you know, dead or alive, when they have no reason for being there, you can bet that it’s a Hatif.”

“Yeesh, who knew there were so many types? It’s like a pick ‘n’ mix of djinn.” Santana chuckled, rubbing her arms briskly.

“Oh, sweet girl, I’m not even finished yet.” Abdhi grinned, effortlessly climbing the next dune. As distracting as he was, my thighs weren’t listening to his information. They were on fire, and Kadar stirred inside me, aggravated by the effort. He hadn’t chimed in with his own intel, or smart comments, so I took that as a sign that the Lullaby Weeds still had him under their spell.

“Lastly, we have the Hinn—not technically djinn, more of a rival species. We say subclass, they say separate. It caused a war many years ago, the sparks of which exist even to this day, though we mostly avoid each other for the sake of peace.” Abdhi gestured to the sky. “So, as you can see, djinn come in all shapes and sizes. A pick ‘n’ mix, as you said. We have varying abilities—some appear as weather phenomena, others play tricks, some toy with mortals and drive them mad or cause sickness, and others are so dangerous you would have to have a death wish to go near them.”

“Let’s not meet any of those, okay?” Santana shivered. I didn’t know if it was from the cold or from Abdhi’s sharp, warning tone.

“No, indeed,” Abdhi agreed.

He went on to tell us about how each of the planets was associated with a djinn, but I’d tuned out, the book no longer drawing me in. Kadar made himself known, with spiky pains stabbing my abdomen. My limbs dragged like they’d had the life drained from them. Another side effect of Kadar’s illness.

“Who cares about other djinn?” Kadar rose up, stamping me down. “While you’re waffling on, some of us are dying here. And I don’t see those cretins coming to our aid, do you? Every branch of djinn is out for themselves, and I would wage another war against every single one of them, to teach