I exhale a startled breath at the sudden night, and the darkness stirs. Something shifts nearby. A hand grasps mine, and a shaky voice speaks my name. Ashwin. I clamp down on his fingers, struggling to sit up.
The balcony door flies open, ushering in harsh daylight. I squint and see the figure of a finely dressed man standing in the doorway. Sunlight falls over one half of his familiar face.
“Father,” Ashwin gasps.
“My son.”
My veins run to ice. It’s him. It’s his voice.
Ashwin drifts to Tarek in a daze, meeting him at the end of the bed. Their resemblance is astounding, but no more will I mistake Ashwin for his father. His younger face lacks malice, whereas Tarek’s is cold and unfeeling. Even with those dissimilarities, Tarek is not as I recall. He has a different air about him that pulls my hairs on end.
Tarek embraces Ashwin, clutching him by the shoulders.
“How . . . how have you returned, Father?”
“You asked the gods to defeat your enemies and reclaim our empire.” Tarek opens his arms wide, indicating the fallen soldiers and vizier. “The gods heard your prayer.”
My sense of wrongness festers. The gods would not send someone deceased back into their prior mortal state. The spirit would return to a new form, not the same. This isn’t Tarek, my instincts scream.
The door flings open.
“What’s happening in my palace?” Sultan Kuval bellows. He scans the dead soldiers, his departed brother-in-law, and, finally, he spots Tarek. “It . . . It cannot be.”
Tarek—or whatever it is—stalks over to him. “You’ve betrayed us, dear Sultan, and schemed to take our land. The gods revealed all while I was in the Beyond.”
Sultan Kuval recovers from his shock enough for him to shout, “Guards!”
Palace guards charge in armed with machetes. Tarek throws out a hand, and blue fire explodes from his fingers, slamming the soldiers into the wall and knocking them out. A second onrush of guards enters. Tarek tosses them aside with another blast of the same blue flames.
His ruthless display of power and his otherworldly azure fire startles the sultan. He freezes alone inside the threshold. Tarek closes in on him with slow, purposeful steps.
“I helped your son,” says Kuval. “I gave your people refuge. I—”
Tarek’s hand darts out like a snake’s tongue, grabbing the sultan’s thick chin. Sultan Kuval shrinks away from him. “Look at me when you lie,” Tarek says, dead calm.
Sultan Kuval lifts his gaze and pales. “No, please. No!”
Tarek pushes his powers into him. Cold flames dry away Kuval’s skin, and he crumples to the floor in a heap. The air scents of freeze-burned flesh. Tarek faces his son. “Spread the word that the sultan is dead.”
My gaze pleads with Ashwin. Don’t leave me.
He casts a worried glance my way. “Perhaps Kalinda—”
“My kindred stays.” Tarek’s order is definitive. Gooseflesh prickles up my arms. He has not looked at me once, but he is aware that I am here. “Did you forget my command, son?”
“No, Father.” Ashwin bows and hurries out.
I am alone with Tarek, and as in my nightmares, I am powerless.
Tarek’s unfeeling gaze meets mine. As he strolls to me, I compare my memory of him to this man. He is an impeccable replica, uncanny in his rare beauty, a compromise of masculinity and pampered imperious deportment. Except for his eyes. His irises blaze blue with an inner fire that dries out my mouth. He sits next to me on the mattress and twirls a strand of my hair around his fingertip. Even his hands are as I remember, always touching and taking.
“Did you miss me, love?” His voice is a dangerous purr.
“You aren’t Tarek.”
A smirk reveals his amusement. “I am a stronger, purer form of you, dear Kalinda. By now, you must have heard the tale of Ki and her lover, the demon Kur.”
“That’s a myth.”
“All myths are grounded in truth.” He winds my hair even more, tugging sharply at my scalp. “Ki and Kur were lovers, and together they fathered a child. Their son inherited his father’s powers. The same venom burned in his blood as did Kur’s. They named him Enlil. Ki pretended Enlil was Anu’s son so the sky-god would not smite down the infant. Anu took the child in and raised him, not knowing his son, the fire-god, was the offspring of a demon.”
“That isn’t true,” I say, harnessing boldness in my faith. “Anu bestowed man with fire powers in honor of Enlil, not Kur.”
“The other bhutas are descendants of the wretched sky-god. But you . . .” Tarek hisses near my ear. “You and I share the same venomous demon blood.”
I shake my head, rustling the pillow. My powers are god-given. Brac would have told me if Burners were descendants of Kur, or does he know? This is a Janardanian myth. Perhaps Brac has not heard of this, or, like me, he scoffed at it.
“It isn’t true,” I repeat.
“You know it is. You saw your soul’s reflection in the flame. Fire shows you dragons, serpents of the dark.”
My soul’s reflection in fire is a dragon, but that is not me. Despite all my wrongdoings, I was born a bhuta. I am good. This man is inherently evil.
“You’re the Voider,” I say. He smiles with Tarek’s lips, but he is not Tarek. This is not the man who claimed me from the temple, not the man who brought life to Ashwin. He is not a man at all. “How do you know me?”
“Tarek was sent to the Void after his death. We became well acquainted.”
Souls that abide by the five godly virtues go to the Beyond, where they await judgment and are rebirthed into their next mortal state. Disobedient souls are sent to the Void. I should have supposed Tarek’s tyranny would not qualify him for rebirth.
“But why did you return as Tarek?”
“I must repay my debt to Prince Ashwin for releasing me. His heart’s wish is to regain his palace. Thus I assumed the form of the person who could aid in fulfilling my favor to him.”
He strokes my cheek and moves in to kiss my neck. I recoil, my hand glowing threateningly.
The demon rajah picks up the Zhaleh from the end of the bed and offers it to my glowing hand. “If you want to burn something, burn this.” I do not take it, so the Voider lights his fingers and holds the book over the blue flames. I watch as the Zhaleh, my only means of returning the Voider to darkness, burns.
Panic kicks deep in my chest. I cannot let this demon stay in our world. After he fulfills Ashwin’s heart’s wish, he will destroy everything. I grab his forearm and feel inside him for his soul-fire. His skin is cool, and within I sense a feral, destructive heat.
“I would not do that,” he singsongs.
I use my powers to scorch the demon rajah, but instead, his cold-hot powers rush into my veins. I cry out and yank free. Tears of agony fill me.
He smirks. “I warned you.”
“I’ll tell everyone what you are,” I say, panting through the pain.
“No one will believe you. Even my own son thinks I am the rajah . . . and you are my kindred.” The demon rajah bends down, his lips above mine. His musty breath sours my stomach. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a body to touch and feel with. Bhutas revolt me with their godliness and divine light. But you and I are kin.”