Sneak Peek Wednesday: Dune Queen by Amina Adamou

“WHY DO YOU HAVE A sword?” Chetachi asked me.”Don’t talk to me,” I replied, watching Malik magically reconstruct the walls his sister and I had destroyed. “I feel like I might throw up if I have a conversation with you.”

Once again, I noticed that Malik’s eyes were the same shade of forest green as Chetachi’s. From what I gathered, though, their powers were slightly different. Malik could create objects and transport them—as well as people—over seemingly unlimited distances, but it appeared Chetachi was limited to just moving people and objects around.

I guess our magic varied depending on the djinn we were linked to. Interesting.

“I heard Rashida, Eze, and your violent sister have been assigned as helpers for the wedding preparations,” Chetachi told Malik, apparently—and wisely—giving up on trying to talk to me. “I’m guessing you’re in charge of general planning?”

“Who said I wanted helpers for my wedding?” I asked, curling my lip.

Chetachi arched a bushy brow, but Malik cut him off before he could speak. “If you’re about to argue with that one, think very carefully about what happened the last time you did.”

Chetachi swallowed visibly. Turning away, he straightened his shirt, patting futilely at the smears of dirt. Malika hadn’t succeeded in sending him on a one-way trip to the earth’s mantle, but she’d certainly done a number on his clothes.

I hope she has better luck next time. That is, if I didn’t get to her first.

“Right, then. I suppose I shall see you around,” Chetachi said, quietly walking off with his hands clasped behind his back.

I watched him go, suddenly revisited by the memory of him using those innocent people against me, his taunting laughter, and the violence he’d gleefully wielded so at odds with the aloof countenance he now displayed.

A monster in human skin. Was it wrong that I wanted to cut him down?

“Why are you staring at her all dreamy-like when she has a should-I-kill-this-fool-or-not look on her face?” Malik asked, pulling me out of my thoughts. He pointed at Tahir. “You’ve got it bad.”

“Shut up.” Tahir’s flustered gaze fell to the floor, the muscles in his arm flexing as he rubbed the nape of his neck. “Can I speak to you, Salima? Alone?”

“Are you going to get clingy and end up chasing her off, jeopardizing our entire plan?” Malik demanded.

I pinched him.

“Ouch!”

“Go,” I said, shooing him away.

“Is that the thanks I get after everything we’ve been through together?” Malik asked, smiling. Except there was an undercurrent of something else I might not have picked up on if I myself weren’t so fluent in the language of lonely souls. He and Tahir had been a team before I came along, and now he was suddenly relegated to third-wheel status. It couldn’t have been easy adapting to a change like that.

I put my sword down and held up both of my arms. Stared at the glittering chandeliers dangling from the ceiling.

A shocked laugh came from in front of me. “What exactly are you doing, Lima?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” I asked blandly, secretly pleased with the nickname he’d given me. (Even if it did sort of rhyme with “llama.”) “Air hug. Hurry up and accept it.”

He stood there studying me for what felt like an eternity, and just when I was on the verge of throwing my hands up in frustration, he wrapped his arms around himself. “There. Happy?”

I stepped forward, ruffling his growing crop of curls fondly. “You’re lucky you didn’t embarrass me.”

“I made an exception for you, but don’t expect any more hugs from me in the future.”

Tahir threw an arm around Malik’s shoulders. “I’m sorry I wasn’t around to protect you.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Malik patted Tahir on the back. “If you guys keep this up, I might end up inviting you to whatever remote cave I’ll be hiding in for the rest of my life after this.”

“You’re building a batcave?” I shook my head. “I’m warning you now, Malik Ibrahim, if you build a batcave and don’t invite me to it, I will hunt you down and make you sorry.”

He grinned. “Fine, you’re invited. Don’t give our puppy a hard time, okay?”

I blinked. “Puppy? What puppy?”

Malik jerked a thumb at Tahir. “Him.”

“If I’m a puppy,” Tahir tilted his head my way, “then what’s she?”

Malik smirked, slowly walking backward. “Our bad-tempered cat.”

I rolled my eyes. “And you?”

He turned around, throwing over his shoulder, “The stressed owner. I’ll be waiting for you guys at the second gym. Until then, please don’t beat up too many crazy people without me.”

Watching him leave on his own made me uneasy, but I knew he’d brush off my concern if I tried to stop him.

Also, it was probably best that Tahir and I talked. Sooner rather than later.

I faced my soon-to-be husband, giving him my reluctant but undivided attention. “What do you want to talk about?”