Jack and Djinn (The Houri Legends, #1)(51)
No one besides Ben, that is.
Lower and lower into the garage she ran, fewer and fewer cars down here. By the time Miriam realized she’d trapped herself, Ben was already blocking the up-ramp, pistol out and held against his leg. He also stood by the only stairwell. Behind him was a concrete wall, blank and damp; a battered green Cadillac sat a few feet to her right, and beyond that was the dead end at the very bottom of the parking garage.
“Nowhere else to run, Miriam.” Ben was gliding toward her like a lion stepping with careful paws through tall grass toward an unsuspecting gazelle.
His eyes betrayed him, as they so often did. He was hungry for her, fingers curling at his pants leg as if around her body, as if clutching her throat. Miriam backed away from him, grasping for the magic within her. Terror made her fumble, made the fire sputter. She was desperate, reaching for it, only to find it elusive now that she finally truly needed it. Ben was within arm’s reach, and Miriam ran, only to feel his fingers close around her arm and yank her toward him.
“Ben, don’t,” she pleaded. She knew it was futile, but she pled with him anyway. “I’m sorry, Ben, I’m sorry….”
Ben didn’t answer. He shoved her backward, sticking his foot behind her leg so she tripped backward to the ground, bashing her head against the concrete floor. She saw stars spinning above her, felt warmth spread out beneath her head. There was a dull glimmering spark of heat in her gut, and she struggled to remain conscious, reached for the guttering fleck of magic, felt it recede, buried by pain and drowned by terror. She wanted to scream with frustration, but the sound remained trapped in her throat in a hard lump, choking her. Her vision was wavering, spinning. Ben was straddling her, a black folding knife in his hands; the blade was between her breasts and slicing down her belly, ripping open her dress. Ben cut the dress off her arms and wadded it in his hand, pocketing the knife.
“I’m glad you ran, Miriam,” Ben said. “You made this all a lot easier, and a lot more fun.” Miriam thrashed and kicked and bucked, but Ben just laughed and rode it out, seeming to enjoy the fight. There was no Ben left in his eyes, only madness now, only desire and hate and anger.
“I figured something out, Miri,” he said in a conversational tone. “The phone, the car, Rachel? That was all you. You made that happen somehow. I don’t think you meant to, but you did. So I was thinking about it, trying to figure out how it had happened. Then you went all Human Torch on me, and it started to make sense.”
Miriam tried again to buck him off, screaming and kicking. Ben shoved the wadded dress into her mouth, prying it open painfully wide. He shoved the cold barrel of the pistol against her forehead, and she went still.
Ben continued, “Once I got my head around the fact that I really did see you turn to flame, it was easier to think about how you made that other stuff happen. I was thinking about some stories I heard when I was deployed. Our translator had all these crazy stories about what he called ‘djinn,’ and the way he described them…it’s you, Miriam. But what if you don’t grant wishes, like, I just ask you for what I want, and you make it come true? What if maybe somehow you make what I want deep down come true? Like, the magic just works on its own. So then I kept thinking. When did those things happen? While we were having sex. Something about sex makes the magic happen, which is really f*ckin’ cool, you know? Ha, that was punny. So anyway. Here we are, and of course, you’ve got to do this the hard way, which is just like you. We could’ve done this all nice and comfortable up in the hotel room. You could’ve just…let go of all that other bullshit and realized that you belong with me.”
“No, she doesn’t,” came a voice from behind them, just a few feet away. Jack. “Get off her, Ben.”
Miriam tried to scream a warning: Jack didn’t see the pistol. He didn’t see Ben smile slowly, as if he’d been hoping Jack would show up. He didn’t see Ben shift his weight, turn his head slightly to get Jack into his line of vision.
Jack might not have seen what Miriam saw, but he wasn’t stupid. He lunged with sudden speed, throwing himself at Ben. Miriam watched it all as though in slow motion as Ben twisted, absorbed Jack’s hurtling weight. Ben toppled away from Miriam to roll across the ground. Jack disentangled himself from Ben and scrambled to his feet, planted a kick into Ben’s face and then another. Ben rolled away, and Jack followed him, fists first.
A pair of explosions filled the parking garage, the shots missing Jack as he threw himself to the side. Jack stood up and charged yet again; Ben fired twice more. This time, Jack gasped in surprise and stumbled backward, tripped, and fell to the ground. Miriam heard someone screaming, then realized it was her. Jack lay on his back, twin blossoms of blood spreading on his chest, froth bubbling at his lips as he struggled for breath.
Chapter 17
Carson
The present
The crime scene had been cleaned up and the garage reopened weeks ago, so the location itself offered no new clues up to Carson. He stood there anyway, looking at it again, with Miriam and the case as a whole in mind.
He pictured Ben bringing Miriam to the casino, perhaps as an attempt to woo her back. This was his turf, his territory. He knew people here. A buddy of Ben’s from the Corps was a dealer at a blackjack table. The buddy hadn’t exactly been forthcoming, wanting to protect his friend. The connection itself was enough: Ben would be comfortable here. His friend might be able to pull some strings, get people to ignore anything unusual, like a terrified girl running through the casino. There was a waitress whom Carson had interviewed before coming down here, a waitress who had left work by the time the body was discovered and reported, and thus had been unavailable for questioning at the time.