Please.
Very well. He looked back at Trey and touched his cheek tenderly. Whatever passed between them caused Trey to glower and he turned to Ari.
What the hell is going on?
She grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight. Trust me, okay. And please … don’t wake up Jai. This will all be over soon and I’ll be back.
Trey looked unsure. He’ll kill me if anything happens to you and I didn’t do anything to stop this.
Nothing will happen to me. Glass will take care of me.
Trey shot a look at Glass, clearly wanting to believe her. She could tell by the way the lovers gazed into one another’s eyes that they were having a telepathic conversation. It ended with Glass giving Trey a small, dignified nod of his head, suggesting to Ari he had promised him something. At that, Trey pressed a kiss to the corner of Glass’s mouth and then turned to draw Ari into his strong embrace. Be careful.
***
“When my son communicated to me that he was on his way with my granddaughter, formerly known as the Seal, I admit to finding myself somewhat surprised.” Azazil smirked at her, the streak of blood on his cheek distracting.
Upon arrival at Azazil’s palace,
Ari and Glass were quickly ushered into a part of the structure Ari had never seen. Clearly, it served as Azazil’s torture chamber. It was also clear that he’d deliberately remained in it for her visit to shock her. And when he told Glass to leave her with him, to leave the palace entirely, it was clear he also wanted to frighten Ari. Glass, of course, had obeyed his father, and now Ari was alone. Well, unfortunately, no matter how shocked or frightened she was, Ari did not have time for it. Her friend’s life lay in the balance. And Azazil was all about balance, right?
Focusing on Azazil’s ponytail of long, white silk hair, she replied, “I needed to see you.”
“Let me guess—you miss being the Seal?”
“No.”
He shrugged and lay down the small, jewel-handled dagger in his hands. “You’re tired of these visits from Asmodeus and would like me to have a word with him?”
Feeling impatient, Ari shook her head. “No. I mean, yes, I’m tired of his visits and I would really appreciate him staying away from me, but that’s not why I’m here. I’m here … I’m here about the favor you owe me.”
That got his attention. “Oh. That pesky thing.” He turned to face her full on. “Well? What is it you want, child? Out with it.”
Ari drew in a shuddering breath.
“You can turn back time, right? You can change a person’s path in life.”
Every muscle in the Sultan’s body tensed, his eyes alert as he took one intimidating step toward her. “Why are you here?”
Needing to make a statement, Ari took a step toward him rather than cower back from him, and she saw the surprise flicker in his dark gaze. “I want you to change my past. Change it so that Sala never left me at Derek Johnson’s in Sandford Ridge when I was a baby.”
Azazil cocked his head to the side in thought. “What path would you prefer?”
“Don’t rewrite me a new one. I want to continue on in my life as it is, with all the people in it. However, I want the threads with Pazuzu, the Ghulah, and the Labartu to change. Like they never knew about me, never met me or the people I care about. I want Derek’s, Charlie’s, and Fallon’s lives to be different, and this is the only way I know how.”
“Do you know what you ask of me? It is much, Ari. It is very much. You are asking me to create a new reality for these people without affecting your own. You want me to create a new reality without causing too massive a domino effect.” His eyes narrowed. “You do realize that if I did this, only mortals would be affected by it. Derek, Mikey, Charlie, and Fallon. And Fallon, being a half-blood, will remember this reality as well as the new one I create. That’s asking a great deal of her. It’s asking a great deal of me. It will exhaust me, Ari. It will drain me. I’ll have to make sure that every new path, road, and thread that this change creates does not have an effect on the bigger picture. There’s always a chance I don’t foresee everything, and something monumental might occur. Something irreversible. Is that the kind of responsibility you’re ready for?”
She nodded, her heart pounding so hard she thought a rib might break.
He shook his head at her. “Why am I not surprised that the favor you ask be so colossal? You are White’s daughter. Of course it is colossal. There is a great deal of danger in what you ask.”
“It’s the favor I’m asking. You said you’d grant me a favor that was within your power to grant me. You just said you could do it. So … will you?”
As Ari waited for his answer, she once again tried to ignore the blood splatter at the edge of her vision and the groans from the dying man strung up at the edge of the small room. Packed dirt was hard beneath her feet, the bare rock walls devoid of emeralds and glistening with dank moisture. Low light from candles scattered throughout gave it a gothic, sinister atmosphere. Damp earth, sweat, and the coppery scent of blood tingled Ari’s nose.
Her own blood rushed in her ears as she stared up at Azazil, awaiting his answer.
His black eyes narrowed on her, his thoughts impossible to discern. With a huge sigh, he looked away, his contemplation falling upon the man he had been torturing before Ari arrived.