Bound (Secrets of the Djinn)

BOOK: Bound (Secrets of the Djinn)
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Bound

 

 

 

Bonnie Lamer

Copyright 2014 Bonnie Humbarger Lamer

This book is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, dialogue and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the express written permission of copyright holder.

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Other Titles by Bonnie Lamer:

 

The Witch Fairy Series:

True of Blood

Blood Prophecy

Blood Lines

Shadow Blood

Blood of Half Gods

Blood of Destiny

Blood of Dragons

Blood of Egypt

Blood of Retribution

Blood of the Exiled

True of Blood: Kallen’s Tale

Blood Prophecy: Kallen’s Tale

Blood Lines: Kallen’s Tale

Shadow Blood: Kallen’s Tale

Blood of Half Gods: Kallen’s Tale

Blood of Destiny: Kallen’s Tale

 

The Secrets of the Djinn Series:

Marked

 

The Eliana Brennan Series:

Essence of Re

Exposed

 

 

 

 

 

Prologue

 

“Malik, this is not your decision.  She must return.”

Malik pounds his fist on the table
, his normally calm and restrained demeanor slipping.  “No!  You sent her into exile and now you want her to sacrifice herself at your feet?  I will not bring her back until she has manifested all of her power.”

“You say that as if you have a choice.”  His uncle’s
expression is unnerving in its complete lack of emotion.  “You do not.  The power she holds now is sufficient for our needs.”

Malik’s face is far from lacking emotion.  “If you
truly feel she must return, you will get her yourself.”  With a simpering smile, he adds, “Unless you fear her righteous flames.”

“Malik,” a
quiet voice says from beside him.  “No one in this room is without sin.”  She lays a soft hand on his.  “Not even you.”  Malik stares at his aunt.  He is not fooled by her gentle facade.  In her heart, she is as hard and cold as his uncle. 

The council agreed to wait
to ask Skye to return.  A decision based on Malik’s testimony as to Skye’s fragile state of mind and complete lack of control over her power.  As Premier, his uncle does hold the right to overrule the council if a situation becomes dire, but this is a blatant abuse of that power.  Pulling his hand from under his aunt’s, he says, “No, I am not without sin.  I have done what I must to protect our world and my sins pile high.  Now you will have me compound my sins by betraying my own sister.  How could my soul survive the tarnish such a sin would leave?”

“You would rather commit treason
against your entire race then?” his uncle asks, his voice inflectionless. 

Malik leans back in his chair and meets unflinching
the ire now simmering in his uncle’s eyes.  The first outward sign he is losing control of his temper.  “If wanting my sister alive is treason, then I will readily admit to it.”

S
tony mask crumbling, his uncle can no longer hold back his true feelings.  “You will throw your life away and rot in prison for a silly little girl who couldn’t keep her legs together?”

The level of menace on Malik’s face makes even the guards in the room flinch.  “No, Uncle. 
If I am to rot in a cell, it will be for a much greater crime than loving my sister.”

Malik is beyond reason, beyond control. 
The rebel faction has wanted him to do this for a very long time and he is finally ready.  The energy gathers in his palm faster than his uncle can react.  The older djinni is wrested from his chair, desperately gasping for air as Malik’s power wraps around his throat and squeezes.  Malik does not relent when his uncle’s pallor turns ashen.  He does not relent when his uncle’s lips turn a sickening shade of blue.   

Malik’s aunt has retreated behind a guard.  “Stop him!” she shrieks.  “He will kill him!”

“I already have.”  Malik pulls his energy back and his uncle’s lifeless body crumples to the floor.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

The roundhouse kick hits my cheek hard enough to send me staggering back several feet but I don’t go down. She comes at me again but I’m ready for her this time.  I block her jabs and manage to snake a right hook between her arms and hit her square in the jaw.  She’s lucky she has a mouth guard in or she might have lost a tooth or two. 


Nice, now do it again,” Zane says from across the room where he’s doing weight training.  His sister glares at him.

Taking advantage of her being distracted, I sweep
Brielle’s legs out from under her and she goes down on the mat.  Hard.  I expect her to be mad, especially when she takes her mouth guard out and tosses it.  I ready myself for retaliation.

To my surprise, she grins up at me while rubbing her jaw.  “Damn, you’re getting pretty good.”  She pushes herself to a sitting position.  Her breathing as labored as mine, she says, “
What happened to the delicate flower I met a month ago?”

“She died,” I reply.  She died in a glade with the devil watching.  She died when she used her fire to reap justice on his son. 

I hold a hand out to her.  When she grabs it, I pull her up.  “Another round?” I ask.

Brielle rubs her jaw again.  “Maybe later, I’m starving.”

“What’s the matter, Lil’ Sis, can’t take it?” Zane asks from the weight bench, a sparkle in his dark eyes.

In response,
Brielle makes a rude hand gesture which makes him laugh.  “I don’t see you stepping up,” she says.

It’s true.  He hasn’t
sparred with me at all.  He says he can’t stand the thought of hitting me.  While I appreciate the sentiment, it doesn’t help my training.  “Just this once?” I ask.

He shakes his head.  “You’re too good for me.  I’m afraid of getting hurt.”

I’ve seen him fight.  He and Roman tried to kill each other a few times.  They’re both fast and mean when they fight, which is how I need to be.  Unfortunately, Roman won’t spar with me, either, claiming the same excuse as Zane.  Frustrated, I take off my sparring gloves and huff, “I’ll go for a run then.” 

“Skye…”

I’m being bitchy and he doesn’t deserve it.  He’s been great over the last month.  Most of the time, I believe he’s the only thing keeping me sane.  I force my lips into a small smile.  “I won’t be gone long.”  I give him a quick kiss on my way to the door.  He knows I’m still sulking but he doesn’t say anything.

Outside, I revel in the cool
breeze.  The air in the training room gets hot and sticky so my runs are a nice escape.  I’m good at this, I don’t need to train.  Considering how weak I feel compared to everyone else in the house, running may turn out to be what saves my life when the djinn finally catch up to me again.  I sigh.  Okay, enough of the pity party.

I would normally do a few stretches before taking off, but after sparring with Brielle
I don’t really need to.  I’m already moving at a good clip when I hit the tree line.  The large house is in the middle of several acres, most of it forest.  Zane and Brielle both train hard for their encounters with the djinn and keep in excellent physical shape.  They created a nice jogging path that’s mostly clear of roots and other hazards of running in the woods.

I’m not
long into my run when I hear the pounding of feet on the path behind me.  I’m expecting Zane and am surprised when I look over my shoulder and see Roman catching up to me.  Seemingly at the same time, my heart quickens with excitement and my mind groans in annoyance.  This is how I always am around Roman.  My heart remembers I once loved him with the passion of the young.  My more logical mind remembers he betrayed my love by putting a controlling mark on my neck and by not telling me he had a wife.  Has a wife.  He is still married in the djinn realm and his wife made it clear she wants him back.  She also made it clear my relationship with him meant nothing to either her or Roman.

I want to believe it mean
t something, that Roman did love me as I loved him.  I’m not sure if it’s wisdom or cynicism that holds me back.  Even when he looks at me like I’m the only woman in his heart, which he does several times a day.

Roman is grinning when he catches up to me.  “Perfect day for a run,” he says, looking up at the overcast sky
barely visible through the tall tree branches.

“So it is.”  I take in his sweat drenched clothes.  “
This isn’t your first lap?” 

He shakes his head.  “Third.”

“Show off,” I mutter and he grins.  He has slowed his pace to match mine now.


I’m impressed how hard you’ve been training.”  His eyes scan my body from my trainers, up my bare legs to my exercise shorts, over my bare torso and my exercise bra, and finally, my face.  “You were always beautiful, but I must say, you are now absolutely irresistible.”

I shake my head.  “Roman, don’t.”

“I’m simply a man who speaks the truth.”

I turn my head to glare at him and I swear a new tree root
suddenly appears in the path.  My right foot catches it and my ankle twists as I’m thrown off balance and falling rapidly towards the hard ground.  Roman reaches out to me, grasping my arm and tugging me to him, keeping me from hitting the dirt.  His other arm slips around my waist to steady me.

Th
e feeling I try so hard to avoid comes over me.  The one I get when I’m this close to him and can’t resist the pull of his mark.  My breath catches and I inhale deeply to take in his rich, musky scent.  Every inch of my skin touching his tingles and I’m paralyzed by the pull his body has over mine.  My pulse races and I can’t tear my eyes from his, even when his mouth moves ever closer to mine.

A sharp pain in my ankle
when I move my leg brings me back to my senses.  “Damn it,” I breathe and push against his chest.  Roman releases me only to catch me again when my ankle tries to give out on me. 

“You need to sit down
so I can take a look.”  His tone even despite what I see in his eyes, he shifts from seducer to physician in a heartbeat.

Damning my ankle, I let Roman help me
down to the dirt path.  His expert hands begin to assess my rapidly swelling joint.  His touch is clinical as he moves my ankle this way and that.  “I don’t think it’s broken but you do have a nasty sprain.”  He glances up at me.  “You won’t be jogging again for a good week or two.”

“I need to train,” I argue.

“Skye, your body has limits.  How effective do you think you would be against a djinni at the moment?”

I glare at him hating him, my traitorous limbs and my life.  “I guess I need to step up my firearm training
then.”

Roman chuckles.  He puts my arm around his shoulders and his arm snakes around my waist.  Slowly, he gets me back to a standing position.  Being the stubborn woman I am, I shake off his help and take an unsteady step forward, wincing a
s pain shoots up my leg.  I’m able to stay upright, though.

I hobble several feet before Roman says, “You are being ridiculous.”

I don’t look back.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snipe.

Before I can take another step, I find myself being lifted in the air and held snuggly against his chest.  “The more you walk on it, the longer it will take to heal.  You need ibuprofen and ice to help with the
swelling and you will use crutches for at least a week.  Considering how often Brielle has been banged up, I’m sure she has a pair lying around somewhere.”

“Skye?”  Zane’s worried call echoes through the trees.  He
must have sensed my pain, a side effect of our binding, and has come to find me. 

“I’m here,” I call.  To Roman, I hiss, “Put me down.”

He stops walking and his mutinous stare makes me think he’s not going to do it.  After a tense moment, he lets go of my legs and slides me gently down his hard body until my feet are once again touching the ground.  I give his stony face a grateful smile.

It only takes a minute for Zane to catch up to us.  His eyes zero in on Roman’s hand on my arm but he doesn’t comment.  “What happened?” he asks me, concern surpassing jealousy for the moment.

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