Page 64 of Heavensent & Hellbent

“I can hear your thoughts,” he said simply. “In your in-between state, I can enter your subconscious. So I know you arethinking that I’m too comfortable with you. That you don’t like me. That you want tobanishme. It’s foolish of you to think such things, but until recently you believed you were mortal, so…” He shrugged. “I do not know why I expected more from you.”

Neither do I.

He let out a short laugh. “Well, regardless.” Then his face sharpened. “Oh, for Shaitan’s sake.”

What?

He slipped away from my vision, until I woke to the sound of something tapping against my bedroom window.

Shuffling quickly across my room, almost tripping over myself in my haste, I drew my curtain back an inch, touching the same spot the snake had. My eyes swept outside for signs of movement, any indication of where the sound had come from. All appeared still, until I saw him on the front lawn, a stone in hand.

Zain.

27

I pushed the window up as high as it would open. Fresh air smacked me in the face, sobering me. I leaned out the window. Zain looked so handsome, but uncertainty colored his expression. I couldn’t blame him. I’d feel the same if he’d treated me as I had him.

His hair appeared brighter under the full moon. Golden, like the Zal of my dreams. Neither of us spoke, watching each other. He got his phone out and began typing.

My phone buzzed on my bedside table.

Zain

Can I come up?

I glanced around my bedroom, my eyes adjusting to the dark. I braced myself to see the Jinn King, my dad, or possiblyboth, but I was alone. I nodded, then realized he might not have seen it.

Yes.

I scoured my bedroom for anything that I didn’t want Zain to see—because yes, despite it all, I was still just a girl. I kicked underwear, socks, and items of clothing that I’d strewn across the floor underneath my bed. Then I pushed my half-full suitcase against the door.

I gazed at my bedroom with fresh eyes—it was only slightly lived in, and maybe that was because I didn’t want to commit. This was only meant to be a temporary spot until I left. Once I was certain nothing incriminating was left out, I stuck my head out the window again.

How will you get up?

With a bizarre jolt of both pleasure and horror, I imagined him climbing the gutters like they did in all the TV shows I grew up watching.

Even from this distance, Zain’s smirk was evident as he typed a response.

Is that a serious question?

In an instant, wings sprang from his back, and he fluttered up until he was face to face with me, in the air.

Right, of course.

What remained of his T-shirt lay in pieces on the lawn.

When I stepped aside, he effortlessly entered through the window, simultaneously retracting his wings. I took a few steps back and spread my arms out wide. “Well, this is my room.”

My attempt at lightness was cut short when my gaze dropped to a topless Zain, my eyeline at his chest. His shoulders broad and smooth, abs tight. I noticed a scar that ran down his left pec, about six inches long. It was puckered and fresh.

“What happened?” I asked, horrified.

He shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“It looks like more than nothing.”

Zain locked eyes with me, irises blazing, jaw tight. “You’ve been avoiding me.”