Yaz and Zamiel

A plume of smoke manifested in the café to the surprise of no one present. Djinn made it a habit to be overly flashy at all times, as if the opinions of the beings who bound their souls to them mattered. Yaz stared at the Pentagram tatted on her palm, a symbol of her allegiance to them and sighed. What could it want?

The smoke soon took physical form and what a physical form it took. One could get used to their presence, their arrogance, their smell but their beauty on the other hand never grew old. Out of the smoke rose a tall young man with hair that was not quite red, more a bright crimson that moved side to side like a living flame. He did not bother with clothes or even legs, just an ethereal smoky bottom and a chiseled muscular upper half. Being in the presence of his worshippers he did not see it fit to hide his unnaturalness. His eyes were a vortex of white flame that danced around as he focused on one person in the room. All these people and he had to stare at her. Of course he was, Zamiel had always been hungry.

Yaz met his greedy eyes, struggling to hold his gaze but not able to break it either. To her he was a god, a creature beyond mortal understanding, a superior. Were she to displease him; he could burn her to ashes. Not that he would, not her anyway. He took slow deliberate steps as if to only accentuate the sinking feeling she felt as he got closer. The bystanders either lowered their eyes or grinned like hungry hyenas, eager to see someone else suffer in their stead. Sweat started to bead down Yaz’s forehead, not only from fear but from the heat he exuded. Ifrits radiated flame the same way dirty men exuded stench. Zamiel was so close she could clearly smell the ash and smoky smell he treated like obnoxious cologne.

“ Yazmina, my sweet,” Zamiel leaned on the stone counter, melting it slightly with his touch.

“ Do you plan on paying for that?” Yaz did not let him finish.

That elicited chuckles from the onlookers before Zamiel shifted an eye and it stopped as soon as it started.He grinned, mouth full of fangs seething smoke.

“ I always liked to play with you, but mortal fleshbags aren’t worthy of my conversation.I’ll need you to take a more appropriate form. Change!” Zamiel hissed that last word.

Damn him. The pentagram engraved on her palm started to glow gold and Yaz felt incredible pain rising from her arm. It felt like her skull was ready to burst open as curved black horns broke through her forehead. Starting from her arm blue skin broke out and spread all over until every part of her body was covered in that unnatural hue. Cloven hooves formed out of her feet and Yaz sighed as the transformation neared completion. Her clothes would return when he decided he got tired of her very naked Djinn body.

“Much better. Now we can talk.” Zamiel flashed her a snakish grin.

He was so distracted by the sight of her body that he didn’t notice the open hand smack that came his way. In her djinn form her blows could actually do damage, a fact he had overlooked in his lust. Yaz would make the savage regret changing her without her permission. She hit him so hard that smoky black blood dripped down his tan cheek and he recoiled back in shock. Ooh’s and aah’s filled the room when their minds registered what she had just done. Zamiel turned back to her, a savage grin on his face as the smoky blood dissipated with the wound. Cursed immortals.

“ Perhaps you too are an ifrit, a thing of fire. I have use of that fire, no not in that way,” he stopped himself when she rolled her eyes, “ Though if you cannot help yourself I won’t blame you.” He flashed his fangs at her.

Djinn were insufferable, Yaz thought to herself.

“ What could a mortal fleshbag such as myself help a djinn?” Yaz asked sarcastically.

That made his smile vanish. Zamiel leaned over until she could feel his hot breath on her pointed ears. With a voice that would make a goddess wet he whispered delicately.

“ Such matters should not be discussed in front of the rabble. Come with me and we can talk in private. Is that okay with you habibi?”

His eyes glowed as he spoke and something in his voice made Yaz lose all desire to refuse, made her want to do anything he wanted. Yaz leaped from behind the counter, ignoring the fact that she was blue, naked, and inhuman; right into his muscled arms. Yaz knew she was under the influence of the smoke, trapped in thrall of him for as long as he could maintain it. A very sneaky and powerful trick. Djinn lords usually considered this a waste of time on humans, which meant whatever it was Zamiel wanted he had no intention of letting her say no. That scared her, up to the moment they both disappeared in smoky flames.