Bound (Secrets of the Djinn) (22 page)

Ignoring my now queasy stomach, I push my bagel away and pick the paper back up.  Scanning the article, my heart stops beating for a moment when my name appears.  Mine and Roman’s.  Beelzebub had told the truth, the police were on their way to our hotel.  When they
arrived and didn’t find us, they set up a perimeter, which led them to the dead bodies on the side of the road.  Both bodies were charred beyond recognition.  The police are now trying to determine if the bodies are mine and Roman’s, or if they are two more victims in our serial killer spree.  Either way, the bodies are considered to be linked to us.  Which means this headline is probably national.  There’s nowhere Roman and I can go on this side of the veil to be safe.

A large hand on my shoulder makes me jump.  “Don’t pay no mind to that.  They don’t have any proof.”

I look up at Hank’s weathered face.  “The problem is I did murder one of them.”

Hank nods and walks to the coffee pot, refilling the mug in his hand.  “Killing in self-defense ain’t really
murder.  Those men were either going to turn you over to the djinn or kill you themselves.  You had to protect yourself.”

“Have you ever killed anyone?” I ask, immediately wishing I could take back my words.

Hank’s mug stops halfway to his mouth.  He stares at me long enough to make me squirm a little in my chair.  “That’s a very personal question, but I’ll answer it.”  I never thought of it that way, but he’s right.  In a twisted way, it is personal.  I’m certainly not going to be mentioning the people I killed to anyone outside of this house.  “I fought in two wars.  Neither one was worth killing anyone over, but I did what my country asked me to do.” 

He pauses so long, I believe that’s all he has to
say.  But after a sip of his coffee, he lumbers to the table and sits down.  “I ain’t saying killing is any better or worse for a necromancer than anyone else, but I watched every single one of those souls leave the bodies.  When the reapers came, I knew where most of them were going and the idea that I sent a soul, anyone’s soul, to its eternal damnation cut through me so deep I didn’t think my mind would ever be right again.”  He pauses once more.  I want to ask him questions, but I know Hank well enough to know he has to tell his story in his own time.  Finally, he continues.  “It wasn’t ‘til I met Lily that I changed how I looked at things.”

Hank takes another sip of his coffee and I
try sitting on my patience so it doesn’t run away.  It doesn’t work; I can’t take it any longer.  “What changed?” 

I fear the answer is love, which hasn’t helped
me deal with my guilt, so I’m relieved when he says, “The damn woman slapped me upside the head and told me to get my head and shoulders out of my ass.”  I nearly spit out the coffee I was about to swallow. 

H
ank waits for me to finish choking before he continues.  “A damned soul is a damned soul, she told me.  I didn’t have anything to do with that, but I had to protect myself and it came down to the fact it was their time to go, not mine.  It was just damn bad luck on my part that I got to know which souls were good and which souls weren’t.  Same goes for you.  It ain’t your fault if the universe gave you the same knowledge.  You’re at war and there are things you gotta do.  While I ain’t gonna slap you upside the head, I can still tell you to get your head out of your ass.  War ain’t ever pretty.  Once you decide which side you are on, you’re a part of it, whatever happens.  You can’t change that because what you gotta do offends your sensibilities regarding what’s right and what’s wrong.  When it comes right down to it, war is always damning to the soul.  There will always be innocents who die along the way and even if the cause is just, the details are always gruesome.  People do things during a war they certainly ain’t gonna come home and tell their mamas or anyone else about.  If they did, wouldn’t be anyone could look each other in the eye.  This here,” he jabs a finger at the paper, “is nothin’ you need to be worrying about.  You were attacked and you survived.  Stop looking behind you and figure out where you’re going and what you’re fighting for.  Once you do, commit to it.  Commit knowing you’re gonna do things that will tarnish your soul, but if the end is worth fighting for, you have the rest of your life to polish off that tarnish with the good you can accomplish.”

Stunned, I stare at him in wonder.  This big, burly bear of a man is the smartest man I have ever met.  Do I feel better?  No.  But he’s right. “Thanks, Hank.”

Hank nods and stands.  He takes the paper from in front of me and drops it in the recycle box on his way out of the kitchen.  Right where it belongs.

Chapter 27

Zane and Brielle are in the library performing the mundane task of paying bills.  Their parents left them a great deal of money when they died and between the two of them, they managed to increase that sum dramatically through smart investments.  This is good considering how much they spend on weaponry and technology to fight against the djinn.

Zane grins when I come in.  “Good morning…again.”

My cheeks redden and I give him a sour look.  Brielle rolls her eyes.  “Give it a rest, will you?” she groans.

I’m tempted to ask her what happened between her and Malik last night, but from the black mood emanating from her, I don’t think I will.  Instead, I walk to Zane and give him a kiss on the cheek.  “I’m going to work out.  Want to run later?”  I’m a little leery to run alone right now.  Who knows what Beelzebub would do to me now that he’s pissed at me.

“Sure.  Give me an hour?”  I nod and leave them to their task. 

I’m not surprised to find Roman working out.  He’s hitting the punching bag.  If he hits it any harder, he’s going to send it through the wall.  “Working out a little angst this morning?” I tease.

Without stopping his hands, he glances briefly at me over his shoulder. “You could say that.”

Yet another person I’m not going to delve into details with.  “Any chance you’ll spar with me?”

This gets him to stop hitting the bag.  He turns around and grimaces, shaking his hands.  They must be sore.  “That’s not a good idea.”  My temper starts to flare until I remember his punches against the bag.  Do I really want to be his punching bag at the moment?  Not really. 

“I’ll spar with you.”  Jalynx is standing in the doorway.  She’s still in her leather pants, but she’s wearing a tank top that looks suspiciously like one of mine. 

Finally, someone besides Brielle.  I’m pretty sure Jalynx won’t hold back.  “Okay.”

“Another bad idea,” Roman growls, his eyes riveted to Jalynx.

Jalynx saunters into the room, unimpressed by his mood.  “What’s the matter, Defiler, afraid I’ll hurt her?  I couldn’t possibly top what you’ve done to her.”

“Jalynx, shut up,” I say, wrapping my hands with fighters tape. 

Noticing what I’m doing, she asks, “What is that?”

I look up at her.  “It protects your fingers and wrists from breaking.”

She snorts.  “You’re so afraid of hurting yourself you have to wrap up your delicate little hands?  What a sissy you’ve become.”

I
don’t intend to share with her the injuries I’ve sustained over the last few days.  I don’t usually wear the tape when I’m sparring with Brielle, but at the moment I feel I should error on the side of caution.  “We’ll see,” is all I say.  A strange calm washes over me.  I’m usually nervous before sparring with Brielle, but not now.  I’m eager.

When I’m done
taping, I move to the large sparring mat.  Jalynx takes a long knife from a sheath attached to her leg and sets it on the weight bench.  She takes a smaller one from her waist and then one from a scabbard on her back and sets them down next to the first. 

Eyebrows raised, I ask,
“Feeling vulnerable this morning?”

Eyes darting to Roman, Jalynx says, “I arm myself for the company I keep.”
  Roman has gone back to hitting the bag and ignores her.

“Ready?” I ask.

Jalynx responds with a kick to my abdomen which I narrowly avoid.  She’s definitely not going to go easy on me.  I try to get close enough to jab at her, but her legs are long and she lands several kicks before I can catch her foot and twist it.  Jalynx twists with it, using the momentum to bring her other foot up to make contact with my head.  I’m pretty sure she made my ear bleed.  Angry now, I go on the offensive, charging her so she is forced to deal with me up close instead of using her legs.  I land a blow to her jaw and one to her abdomen.  She doubles over briefly to catch her breath and I take the opportunity to knee her in the face and kick her down to the mat. 

Flashes come back to me of previous fights.  Not fighting Jalynx, but fighting by her side.  A boy is lying on the hot sand protecting his head as my foot makes contact with his ribs.  His friends are taunting him because he’s being beaten by a girl.  Jalynx laughs and kicks him again.

These memories break my concentration and Jalynx is able to roll away from me before I can kick her as she kicked the boy in my memory.  Without thinking about it, I use a cartwheel to bring me close with my body tucked together until the last second when I unfurl my legs over her kneeling body and catch her neck between them.  Still rolling forward, I bring her head and neck to the mat, her body sideways.  One of her arms is trapped under her and the other I catch at the elbow with mine, wrenching it back.  Jalynx cries out as her joint is dangerously close to dislocating.  Her legs are kicking but since she’s on her side, she can’t get to me.  I press my free hand against her ear, pushing her head down until it’s stretched as far as it can go over my right thigh.  A bit more pressure and her neck will break.

Arms wrap around me
, pressing mine to my sides, and pull.  Confused, I struggle against them while keeping my legs wrapped around Jalynx’s neck.  Her arm is free now and she’s trying to force my thighs apart, but I’ve locked my ankles and she has no leverage.  Her face is red and her eyes are starting to bulge.

“Let go!  Damn it, Skye, you’re killing her!”  Roman’s voice is harsh next to my ear.  I can’t let her go.  It’s like my body is on autopilot.

“What the fuck?” 

Brielle is in front of me now pulling at my ankles.  She mutters a string of curses when she can’t pry them apart.  “Fine, you want to be like that,” she reaches out to where my thighs and Jalynx’s neck meet and she grabs a piece of flesh from my inner thigh and twists it as hard as she can.  Pain shoots up and down my leg but I don’t let go.

“Damn it, Skye.  What’s wrong with you?”  Roman is twisting my body at the waist, trying to wrench me away without snapping Jalynx’s neck.

“You’re making it worse!” Brielle snaps.  This time, it’s my Achilles’ tendon she grabs and twists.  This is sufficient enough pain to make my ankles break apart, trying to get away from her grasp.  I kick out at her but she grabs my bare foot and punches the insole.  Who the hell knew
it would hurt so much?!  Apparently, Brielle did.  My legs apart now, Roman yanks me backwards and Brielle grabs Jalynx, pulling her to the other side of the mat, out of my reach.  As soon as we’re apart, my mind tries to kick back in.  Brielle’s right, what the fuck? 

“Can I let you go?” Roman asks.  I nod my head, too stunned by what I just did to voice a response.  Slowly, his arms slide away from me but he’s on the ready to grab me again if he need
ed.

“Jesus, I know the chick punched you in the head yesterday to prove her point, but killing her is a bit extreme as far as revenge goes, don’t you think?” Brielle says.  Jalynx is on her hands and knees retching.

“Skye?” Roman says, coming around in front of me.  “Are you okay?”  When I don’t respond, he takes my wrist and checks my pulse.  “Your heart rate is through the roof.”  If I could speak, I would agree.  It feels like my heart is trying to free itself from my chest with a jackhammer.

Roman puts his fingers around my eye and spreads my lids apart.  “
Her pupils are fixed and dilated.  Skye, can you talk?”

Feeling like I’m trying to move my head through glue, I move it slowly from side to side.  It’s as if I don’t even remember how to form words.  What is wrong with me?
  In my peripheral vision, I can see Jalynx and anger washes through me again.

“Christ, hold her down, Doc!” Brielle shouts.  Who?  Is Jalynx coming for revenge?  I try to focus on her as I feel Roman’s arms clamp around me again.  Is that snarling I hear?  Is Jalynx snarling at me?  My eyes are too bleary to tell.  “What is wrong with her?  She’s practically foaming at the mouth.”

“Get Jalynx out of here,” Roman tells her.  Good.  I don’t want her snarling at me.  I can make out Brielle and Jalynx’s shapes as they move toward the door but I still can’t see them clearly.

Roman is in front of me
again.  “Skye, I need you to calm down.  Take some deep breaths.”  Calm down?  I’m just sitting here.  Roman catches my chin with his thumb and forefinger but pulls them back with a jerk, blood on one of his fingers.  “Shit, you bit me.”  What?  I try to look around the room to see who he’s talking about, but my head is so hard to turn at the moment.  A strange metallic taste stings my tongue.

Roman is shoved out of the way and Zane is in front of me now.  Zane.  I love him so much.  I love the feel of his hands pressed against my cheeks
and his lips so close to mine.  I wish I could kiss him.  “Skye, fight him.  I can feel him in there with you.  You must fight him.”  Fight who?  “Skye, focus on me.  Just me.  You’re being possessed.  I don’t know how but I’m pretty sure I know who.  Fight him.  Don’t let him control you.  You have to force him out of you.  Focus just on me.”