Djinn (11 page)

I tried to ignore that thought. If I couldn't call the police, then what? The red hatchback flashed in my mind. The woman had left the car running as she darted inside.

The idea formed in my mind. Take out Will, get in the red hatchback and drive back to Dad. It was my only chance of escape from these people.

How do I get past Will?

I'd stabbed him and it barely left a mark. How on earth was I going to get past him? I didn't have any weapons, but I did know how to fight, and I had the element of surprise, if I played my cards right.

I finished my business and took a deep breath before stepping out of the toilet. Will leaned against the side of the gas station, watching me as I closed the toilet door.

"No escape attempt?" he said, one eyebrow raised.

"I thought about it, but I don't think Mia would like it if I punched your pretty face," I replied.

"I don't think she would," he said. "And I think I'd be a little pissed, too."

That made me smile, which annoyed me. I didn't want Will to make me smile. Images of my dad flashed in my mind and my smile faded.

"You're angry at me," he noticed.

"No," I lied.

I tried to walk ahead, but he stayed close by, a step behind. He was giving me space, which annoyed me more. It was hard to hate him when he was being so nice.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said, pulling my jacket around my body.

"When we get home and you understand everything, then maybe you will forgive me."

"Unlikely," I said, stopping just behind the corner of the service station. I put my head in my hands and put on my best fake crying attempt.

"Kyra," Will said, his voice thick with concern.

I felt him step closer, warmth from his body radiating against my back. This was my chance. He was letting his guard down. Will placed a hand on my shoulder and I made my move. I grabbed his hand and, in one fluid motion, stepped behind him and twisted his arm behind his back. A swift kick to the back of his leg had Will on his knees.

"Kyra. Stop," he said calmly, like I wasn't hurting him at all.

"I won't go," I said and kicked him to the ground.

I knew it wouldn't stop him, only slow him down. That's all I needed, enough time to reach the car. I ran to the edge of the service station and spotted the car. There was no time to think, Will was already getting to his feet.

I bolted for the red hatchback of freedom, slamming into the side window.

"What the hell?"

Pyke stood at the entrance to the service station, wallet in hand, having just paid for the petrol.

"Pyke, stop her," Will called. Pyke lunged grabbing my jacket and pulling me backwards.

"No!" I screamed, and slipped my arms free from the material. Pyke threw my scrunched jacket to the ground and charged once more. I ripped open the door to the hatchback, hitting him in the face. He fell backwards, blood smearing his nose. I dove into the driver's seat and shut the door. Will was at the side of the car, yanking on the door, but I pressed the internal lock.

His eyes locked with mine.

"Don't do this," he said. "We're not the bad guys."

I wasn't going to listen and put the car into reverse, stepping hard on the gas. The hatchback had a lot more kick to it than the Ute and I jerked back faster than anticipated. I gazed into the rear-view mirror to catch a glimpse of Mia standing behind me. Her eyes blazed gold, her skin blue. I knew what was coming.

A burst of high-pitched sound shot from her mouth and shattered the windows. I hit the brakes and covered my ears. Small pieces of glass fell from my hair and cut my hands and arms.

A hand reached into the car and pulled the unlock button. The driver's side door was pulled open and I felt a hand grasp my arm. It was hard to concentrate. Mia's ability had screwed with my senses.

"Get out," Mia said, pulling me from the car and throwing me to the ground.

"Mia. Don't hurt her," Will said, appearing at her side and holding her back, preventing her from doing anything else. The blue faded from her skin as she powered down.

"She'll live," Mia replied with a sneer. "But what the hell were you doing? How did she even get away from you?"

"She's been taught to fight," Will said.

"She got the jump on you. Unbelievable."

"Give it a rest, Mia."

I rolled onto my side, as if I could still crawl away. Pyke stood by the service station, the woman and service clerk lying unconscious at his feet. He'd knocked out the witnesses and my only hope for help.

"We need to go," he called, making a move for the car.

I crawled on my stomach, glass and rocks scraping my exposed skin. I didn't know where I was going, just away. Hands grasped my shoulders and I rolled onto my back to push them away. Will crouched over me, trying to control my arms. I clawed at his skin, his arms, his chest, anything I could reach.

"No!" I screamed. "No!"

"Kyra," he said, finally getting a grip on my wrists. "Stop. Just stop."

I didn't want to stop. I wanted to keep trying, but there was nothing I could do now. They had me. Will had me.

"Forgive me," he said. "It's for the best."

Once I had calmed down, Will helped me to my feet and walked me back to the car. Pyke was already in the driver's seat with the engine running, a bag of frozen peas on his nose. Will moved to open my door, but I pushed past and did it myself. Mia was no longer in the back seat, taking up residence in the front with Pyke. Will slipped in next to me and I did my best to avoid looking at him.

Pyke pulled out from the service station and onto the main road, like my escape attempt had never even happened. I could feel Will's heavy gaze on the side of my head.

"I hope you can forgive this, too," he said.

"What are you talking—" A sharp pain hit me in the shoulder, then Will pulled a needle from behind me.

"What didjoo dooo?" my words slurred.

"Sorry," Will said, "It's for your own safety."

My vision blurred. "Son of a bit—"

Chapter Eleven

My head spun and, when I opened my eyes, so did the room. I tried to focus my mind and remember the last thing to happen. I was at the gas station, walking back to the car and then … Will stabbed a needle in my back.

"Will stabbed me with a needle!" I shouted, bolting upright. The sudden movement made my head spin even more, and I felt whatever food I'd eaten last rise in my throat.

I spotted a bathroom off to the side and ripped off my blankets from the bed I had been sleeping in. I didn't have time to ponder the question of where exactly that was as I was about to throw up. With great effort I lunged for the bathroom, making it in time to spew my guts out into the toilet.

After several minutes of vomiting and cursing Will's name I finally felt better. I flushed the toilet and rinsed my mouth out with water from the basin. As I wiped the remaining drops from my lips I spotted my reflection in the mirror. All the mud and blood was gone from my face, and I was cleaner than I'd ever been before.

It wasn't just my face that was clean—it was all of me. Every inch had been scrubbed while I was out, and I'd been dressed in a pink nightgown trimmed with lace. I felt self-conscious and wrapped my skinny arms around my stomach, as if I could cover my whole body with them. I noticed all my cuts here healed. How long had I been out for? Who had taken my clothes? Who had washed me and seen me naked? I really hoped it wasn't Will, and I hoped even more it wasn't Pyke.

I wiped my face with a soft white hand towel and noticed that my ratty brown hair had been washed, brushed and tied back in a series of braids. I'd never looked so beautiful in my life. My golden eyes stood out against my pale skin, my cheekbones more pronounced. I had never been a girlie-girl, and I preferred jeans to dresses any day. I was the kind of girl who didn't shower after a training session because it didn't bother me to smell a little sweaty.

I ran from the bathroom in search of pants. The bedroom was twice the size of any room I'd had over the years. The walls were plastered with wooden inlays and royal blue curtains swept in front of the window, hiding the outside world. The bed was queen-sized, with more pillows than I could count and sheets that smelled of roses.

As my eyes circled the room I caught a glimpse of a wardrobe in the far corner and rushed over, flinging the doors open. It was walk-in style, with clothes lining the walls on either side, going back at least a few metres.

I'd never seen so many shirts, blouses and dresses in my life. They were every shade of the rainbow, and in every horribly girlie style imaginable. I searched through frock after frock, and each seemed to get shorter and shorter. Finally, I spotted some jeans hanging up in the back and I pulled them on under the nightgown. Further exploration took me to a section of the clothes that appeared to be workout gear. I grabbed a grey tank top and swapped it for the nightgown.

I felt so much more myself when I emerged from the wardrobe and let out a long breath, calming my nerves.

"I'm sorry about knocking you out."

I froze in place and slowly craned my neck to see Will leaning against the wardrobe door. He was cleaned up, too, sporting a tight white tee and dark jeans; his hair was even more stunning when it was clean, and his spiked locks framed his face with angelic beauty. Had he been watching me change?

"You!" I charged and swung my fist at his face.

He grabbed my hand, spun me around and caught me in a hug. His hands held my wrists in place, but not nearly as tight as when Pyke had. Will's grip was tender, like a brush on canvas.

"I know you're mad—"

"Mad doesn't even cover it!" I yelled, struggling against him. I felt his hard chest pressed against mine and shivers rippled through my body.

"I didn't have a choice. You couldn't see how we got to the compound. Ivan requested it."

"You stabbed me!" I shouted. "Stabbed me in the back. Literally!"

"Kyra …" My name was a melody on his lips, but it only enraged me more.

"I … I …" I what? Trusted you? That wasn't true. He kidnapped me; really, I should have seen it coming.

I shook my body back and forth until I just gave up. My head was still aching and I felt weak. I couldn't fight Will like this, I was just wasting energy.

Will let go of me and I put some distance between us, standing further back in the wardrobe, as if I might be able to hide in there.

"Compound? I'm in a compound," I said. "And who the hell is Ivan?" I threw my hands in air and groaned.

I walked past Will, not wanting to look at him. Instead, I focused on a small collection of photo frames on the bedside table. I picked one up, a small golden frame with a photo of baby, sitting on a play mat. She was dressed in pink pyjamas and sucking on a yellow blanket. The kid must have been two-years-old.

I placed the frame back down and turned to Will, who had come up behind me. He was sneaky like that.

"How long have I been out?" I asked.

"Only a day," he replied.

"A day? But my cuts and my ears …" How had they healed so fast? I touched my ears unconsciously, thinking about the damage Mia had caused them.

"We had a healer look at you," Will said, reading my mind, or perhaps just my hand gestures.

I dropped my hand and glared at him. I wanted him to stay the hell out of my head and my life. He sensed my anger, but it didn't seem to make him back off.

Where was Dad? Was he alright? Was he alive?

I had to stop thinking about that. Dad could take care of himself. He would have woken up and used the first aid kit in the house. He'd be looking for me.

"Come with me and you'll get your answers." Will extended his hand.

I looked at it, hesitantly. I'd decided to go along for the ride and find out the mystery of what was going on, but after Will knocked me out, all I could think was: you should have tried to escape at the gas station.

I was here now, wherever here was, and I wasn't getting away any time soon. I was going to find out the truth. I had to know what this whole mess was all about.

I forced a smile and took Will's hand. It was warm and smooth and strong, like he could crush me up with little effort.

"Fine, show me," I said. My gaze travelled past his hand to his arms, his shoulders, his lips … I yanked my hand away, holding it close to my chest. I had to stop thinking about Will's body parts.

We exited the bedroom through oak-panelled doors. Will led me into a hallway lined with a blue Persian runner carpet and various portraits of people I didn't know, all hung in golden frames. My eyes scanned the pictures as we passed. Many doors lined the walls and I wondered how many people lived in this house.