Page 53 of Heavensent & Hellbent

Zain placed an envelope on the countertop. In return, Jamshid produced two vials from his pocket, wrapped in paper, which he placed in Zain’s hand.

“A potion to hide your scent from jinn and div until you figure out your next steps. Instructions are on the parchment. Don’t ever say I’m unhelpful.”

Zain nodded in thanks before taking my hand in his, and I prepared myself for the cold as we stepped into the portal. A clattering from behind made me jump, and when I turned, Isaw that the jinn had come into the house. They had black eyes and veined skin. They were tall, wearing dark cloaks.

“Roxana?” one of them said. My stomach clenched. Not again. I found myself being pulled into Zain, who was gripping my hand tightly.

“We need to go!” he shouted into my ear. He was right, but for some reason, I couldn’t move my legs. I could only watch the jinn, who were moving gracefully toward us, as though they were gliding across the floor.

I expected them to charge at me, and I raised my hand in the air, as though that would stop them. What surprised me the most was that at this motion, they stopped.

“What—” I began, but I didn’t get to finish my sentence because Zain had me in his arms and had plunged us through the portal. I could have sworn, though, that they bowed their heads before we left.

23

Zain caught me when I stumbled into the alleyway back in Denver. Against his chest, his steadying arms gripping me, I took a deep breath, which also meant inhaling him. Even after all we’d been through, his scent still affected me, still had the ability to intoxicate me.

“Are you okay?” he murmured against my hair.

I didn’t say anything for a moment. Everything I knew about my world had tilted yet again. My mother knew about jinn, knew about this terrifying world and kept it from us all. But worst of all, she was killed by a jinn—a div, even. Something that sounded even worse than the jinn I’d encountered. A sharp ache hit my chest. Did they know my name because of my mum?

Zain held me away from him, eyes searching my pale face, watching the rapid rise and fall of my chest.

“Rox,” he said, lifting my head up to see me better.

“I can’t breathe,” I ground out. The words said aloud made me panic more.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe.I couldn’t breathe.

The cold burn of going through the portal again hadn’t seemed as bad as it did the first time, but right now, I had no control over my trembling, and I felt for sure I was dying. I could barely even see Zain, even though he was bent down and looking at my face, his words muffled.

And then he lifted me into his arms. I was vaguely aware of being put into his car. I leaned against the headrest, trying to gather myself. Zain rested his hands lightly on my shoulders.

“You’re having a panic attack,” he said loudly, though still gentle. “Take a deep breath in for five counts, okay?”

I shook my head. “It’s not,” I let out. “I don’t have them.”

“Try it,” he said, and began counting to five.

My breath was shaky and ragged as I drew in a breath for five counts. Then he told me to exhale for five, and I struggled, taking in another quick breath. We did this multiple times, until I was able to extend my breathing in and out for the five counts. The ragged, gnawing feeling in my chest slowly subsided.

“Slam your feet on the floor,” he urged.

“Huh?”

“It helps.”

While taking a slow breath in, I stomped my feet on the floor of the car, once, twice, three times. With each pound, I felt heavier, less out of control, more grounded. I don’t know how long we were in the car, but eventually I no longer felt like I was dying, the pain in my chest subsiding to a dull ache.

I sat hunched, while Zain reached over to rub my back. The sun was setting ahead of us and the clock on the dashboard read 6:49. On one side of us was a restaurant, the outside seating cluttered with people enjoying a summer’s evening. I caught eyes with a white man who was watching us suspiciously. Despite everything that had happened, everywhere we had been, the world was behaving as normal.

Zain’s fingertips brushed away stray tears I hadn’t realized I’d shed. His touch was gentle, feather soft.

“How are you feeling now?” Zain asked.

“Better, thank you,” I whispered. “I’ve never had anything like that happen to me before. How did you know what it was?”

“Some of the guys on the varsity team had them,” he said. “With all we learned, it makes sense that your body would have that reaction. I shouldn’t have taken you there.” He said the last part quietly, like he was berating himself.