Bound (Secrets of the Djinn) (26 page)

Chapter 32

It’s the light flooding through the window that wakes me.  I slept like the dead through the entire night.  If Beelzebub did pay me a visit, he wasn’t able to wake me up. 

Zane stretches next to me.  “You’re up early,” he says through a yawn.

“The sun woke me.”

He rolls to his side and wraps an arm around me.  “That’s better than the other things you’ve woken up to lately.”

Feigning ignorance, I say, “Oh, you’re not so bad to wake up to.”  Growling playfully, he pulls me closer and kisses me. 

After a moment, I murmur against his lips, “Can’t we stay in bed and forget about everything else?”

Pulling back, Zane laughs.  “As great as that sounds, I personally would rather be dressed when the djinn come.”

“You could make a quick toga from the bed sheets,” I suggest.

He pretends to think about it.  “Hmm, you djinn chicks do tend to be hot.  Maybe I could win a few over to our side if I did fight naked.”

This time my slap on his shoulder is not gentle.  “Keep saying things like that and I’ll kill you before any of the other djinn have a chance.”

Grinning like a fool, he says, “You’re even hotter when you’re jealous.”  I pull the pillow out from under his head and hit him with it.  Laughing, he grabs it from me and tosses it to the floor.  “I like you all riled up.  Feisty is sexy.”  He wriggles his eyebrows suggestively.

I shake my head.  “You’re impossible.”

“Yet you still love me.”

I smile.  “I do.”

“How I do hate to interrupt such tender moments,” a dry voice drawls, startling us both.  I quickly pull the sheet and blanket up to cover my exposed breasts.  “But this is hardly the time for frolicking.  War is at hand.”

“Jesus,” Zane mutters, brushing a hand through his brown hair.  “Don’t you know how to knock?”

Beelzebub gives him a look that would make some men cower.  Zane just stares at him, waiting for a response.  Finally, the devil says, “No.”

“Learn,” I grumble, managing to sit up without exposing myself.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” Beelzebub sniffs.

“More like the wrong side of the devil,” I mutter.  I’m not sure if he heard me or not.  If so, he’s choosing to ignore the comment.  “Why are you here this time?  Is it Jalynx again?”

Something dark and dangerous flashes through his eyes at the mention of the djinni’s name.  “That ship has sailed, I’m afraid.  Nothing to be done about it now.”  His words are so low and malevolent, I find myself shrinking back against the headboard.  He said the words, but he definitely doesn’t mean them.  He has every intention of doing something about Jalynx.

“Did you come to warn us
that the other djinn are here?”

“
Do you really think I’m here to play twenty questions?” he snipes.  “If you could keep that pretty little mouth of yours closed for half a second, I could tell you why I’m here.”

Damn, I’m not the only one grumpy.  Zane stiffens beside me and I lay a hand on his arm.  This is not the time to do anything stupid.  “I’m listening.”

Beelzebub’s eyes narrow and he stares at me for a moment, determining if I’m serious or not.  He must decide I am.  “I came to warn you…”

He pauses briefly and the words, “About what?” slip from between my lips.  I slap a hand over my mouth, praying I didn’t make him so angry he won’t tell us why he came.

After glowering for a short time, he says, “I came to warn you that I will be fighting against you.”

My eyes begin to blink rapidly and I shake my head, trying to make my ears hear correctly.  Because they must be malfunctioning.  “A-
gainst
me?” I stutter.

“That is correct.”

As dumbfounded as I am, Zane asks, “Why?”

Beelzebub examines his fingernails, picking something black from underneath one of them.  “I have a reputation to protect.”

“Since when do you give a damn about your reputation?  You’re the poster child for evil, for god’s sake,” I exclaim.  “Your reputation is already bad.”

Rolling his eyes, Beelzebub says, “Fine, it has nothing to do with my reputation.  I simply don’t want to be on your side today.”

He sounds like a petulant child.  “Why not?”

A strange smile curls his lips upwards.  It’s not jovial, but neither is it malicious.  “Because the scales are already tipped in your favor.”

“You’re kidding, right?” I ask.  “At least a hundred djinn are coming tonight.”

Beelzebub’s
eyebrows rise slightly.  Using his fingers to tick items off, he says, “You possess the power, the control, and the tether.  Do you really consider that a fair fight against a measly hundred djinn?  Someone has to balance things out.  That’s what I intend to do.  I’ll see you tonight, my dear.  Don’t be late.”  The devil disappears leaving both Zane and me with our mouths gaping open.

“What the hell
does he mean?” Zane eventually asks.

I shake my head slowly.  “I
don’t know.”  Pushing back the covers, I say, “We need to find Malik.  He needs to know what we’re up against.” 

Zane grabs my arm before I can stand up.  Face intense with emotion, he says
as if reading my mind, “No matter who has you or where you are, I will always come for you.”  If Beelzebub is fighting with the djinn, that means he can take me any time he wants.  Regardless of whom I’m with.  Even Malik can’t prevent it.

Knowing his words can’t possibly be true, I still lean over the bed to kiss him.  “Thank you.”

Ten minutes later, everyone is gathered in the kitchen.  “Couldn’t this wait until at least eight?” Brielle asks, pouring a cup of coffee from the pot Mrs. Gregori made.  The old woman was already up when Zane and I came down.

Shaking my head, I say, “No, it couldn’t.”

“Get on with it, girl,” Mrs. Gregori snaps.  “I’m missing my program.”  She faithfully watches the news every morning.  She also records it in case she sleeps in, even though she never has, so she can watch it later if she wants. 

My words come out jumbled because I fear if I don’t push them out all at once, I’ll lose my nerve and not say them.  “The devil is fighting against us.”

The coffee cup slips from Brielle’s hand.  The shattering of ceramic fills the silent room briefly.  A welcome relief to the sudden quiet, but when the sound is gone, the eerie silence returns.  It’s unbearable.

Finally, someone speaks. 
“What the hell did you say to him?” Brielle demands.

“This isn’t Skye’s fault,” Zane snaps.

Brielle gives him a death glare.  Jabbing a finger towards me while talking to her brother, she snarls, “How can you be ass-deep in denial like this?  She’s the only one who has contact with him.  She’s said herself that she’s made him so mad he wouldn’t talk to her.  It’s not a big fucking leap to figure out who’s responsible.  The devil has said more than once that he plans to kill her eventually.  Now he’s going to kill us, too!”

Zane opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out.  The problem is Brielle’s right.  This must be my fault.  I think back to my conversations with Beelzebub.  Even when he was being nice
and helpful, I was surly and ungrateful.  I didn’t do one thing to encourage him to be on our side.  All I’ve done is express how disgusted I am that he has any interest in me at all.  I close my eyes against the onrush of guilt coursing through my veins.  Once it reaches my heart, it will shatter it into pieces.

“Damn it, Brielle,” Zane snipes and I feel his hands on my arms.  “Skye, sit down before you fall down.”  A chair pushes against the back of my knees.  I sit.

“Quit babyin’ her,” Mrs. Gregori snaps.  I hear the motor of her wheelchair bringing her closer.  “Open your eyes, girl.  You can’t face anything with ‘em closed, and you gotta face this.”

Forcing my eyelids up, I look around the room at the faces I’ve doomed to die at the devil’s hand.  “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

Crack.  The side of my head feels like it was hit by a truck.  I put my hand to the throbbing skin, wondering how many bones cracked on impact.

It wasn’t a truck that hit me
, though.  Mrs. Gregori slapped me.  I’m so stunned, as is everyone else in the room, I don’t react.  The old woman fills the ensuing silence with her gravelly voice.  “It was about time you had a good slap upside the head.  I’m tired of your bellyaching.  It may be your fault the devil is going to fight against us or it might not be.  Could be he thinks the other side has a better chance of winnin’.  Who knows?  He’s an evil son of a bitch who’s only out to please himself, regardless of the malarkey he sends your way.  He’s playin’ games and you’re letting him win.  Suck it up.  ‘Cause if you keep acting like this, we might as well all lay our asses on the ground outside and wait for the damn djinn and the devil to come along and send us to our salvation, or to our place in hell.  I ain’t willing to gamble on where I’m going to end up.  But if you let these people who care about you down, I’ll sure as hell take a bet on where you’ll end up.”

Hank’s right.  Mrs. Gregori does have the ability to knock sense into people.  Sitting up straighter in my chair, I take my hand from my bruised cheek and nod.  “I’m ready to fight
and we’re going to win.”  If I say the words enough times, I might start to believe them.

“’Bout damn time,” the old woman mutters as she backs away to her normal spot at the table.

A quick glance at my brother shows a smile trying hard to climb onto his lips.  It has a foothold, but he’s not letting it go any farther.  He chose not to Mrs. Gregori, I bet.  Smart man.

I may be convinced, but Brielle’s not.  “You people are all fucking insane.”

Without judgment, Malik asks, “Does that mean you won’t stand with us?”

Brielle glowers at him.  “Did I say that?”

Malik’s smile gains another foothold.  “No, you did not.”

“Now that we have that settled,” Zane gives his sister a pointed look, “Brielle and I can show off the fun toys we’ve acquired lately.”  A spark of excitement leaps into Brielle’s eyes at the thought of weaponry. 
She’s still bitter, but she gets to be bitter with big guns.

When Zane said fun toys, he meant an arsenal worthy of a full battalion.  I don’t dare ask how he acquired all of it because I’m sure some of the military grade stuff had to
come from illegal sources.  The less I know the better.  Everyone else seems to feel the same way.

Malik is unfamiliar with most of the weaponry.  Zane and Roman patiently explain to him what a rocket launcher and hand grenades are
and how to use them.  Brielle, Hank and Mrs. Gregori assess the hand guns, rifles, semi-automatics and fully automatics, determining which will be best used by whom.  I’m guessing I end up with something small.  Jalynx will probably have to fight with only her blades considering the dirty looks Brielle sends her way every now and then.  I doubt she wants to arm her new foe with a gun.

As for me, I’m antsy as hell.  I
can’t help prepare the weapons and no one wants to spar today because we need to save our energy for later.  I’m a bundle of energy with no outlet.  I’d go for a run, but the idea was already vetoed.  Malik’s worried that our aunt has sent scouts ahead.  The security cameras haven’t picked up anything, but it’s best not to take stupid chances.  If I could drag Zane away from Malik and Roman, I could easily burn off some energy with him.  Probably best if I don’t disrupt his focus.  It’s important Malik learn about these weapons.  Mostly so he knows when to get out of the way.

I still can’t
really wrap my mind around all of this.  A couple of months ago, I was a med student with a plan.  Now I’m the focus of a supernatural war, with my own aunt leading the charge against me.  What happens if she wins?  Would she force me to kill?  Images of being locked in a cell with her enemies until I burn them alive flash through my mind.  I shudder at the thought, but I can’t deny the truth.  If my aunt gets her hands on me, I will become a weapon for her to wield.   

I study Jalynx for a moment
.  Her attention is on the guns.  She’s been drooling over them for hours.  She and Brielle have a lot more in common than either of them think.  What will she do tonight?  Will she betray us, or will she fight to the death if she must?  It’s unnerving not knowing.

Hank wanted to take his wife away from here.  She’s not at full fighting potential and he’s worried about her safety.  Mrs. Gregori waved him off with unkind words
and threats.  If her grandchildren are here, she’s going to be here doing whatever she can.  I smile as I remember the pride in Hank’s eyes. 

Around five, Mrs. Gregori calls us for dinner.  It’s an uncomfortable affair with more silence than chatter.  The food is delicious, but after a few bites, I lay down my fork.  The closer it gets to dark, the more upset my stomach becomes and I don’t dare eat too much.

Back in the sitting room, I can’t be still.  “If you keep pacing like that, you’re going to wear your feet down to nubs,” Jalynx comments.

I make a face at her.  “I’m restless.  How can you just sit there?”