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  The taxi driver comes out of the shower, wet, with a towel wrapped around his midsection. He is not wearing his sunglasses, and in the dim room his eyes burn with scarlet flames.

  Salim blinks back tears. “I wish you could see what I see,” he says.

  “I do not grant wishes,” whispers the ifrit, dropping his towel and pushing Salim gently, but irresistibly, down onto the bed.

  Desert sand, red musk, blackened ginger, dragon’s blood resin, black pepper, cinnamon, and tobacco.

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  Morocco

  The intoxicating perfume of heady incenses wafting on warm desert breezes. Arabian spices wind through a blend of warm musk, carnation, red sandalwood and cassia.

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  Faustus Perfume Oil

  An infusion of incalculable power and irresistible temptation. Truly an exercise in megalomania and self-gratification: frankincense and cinnamon, darkened by violet.

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  Wrath Perfume Oil

  A scent aflame with rage, swirling in the red haze of hatred: dragon’s blood spiked with black pepper, clove, and cinnamon.

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