Djinn (12 page)

Every single one of the people in the paintings had golden eyes. I was beginning to realise what I thought was a unique trait of mine was apparently commonplace.

At the end of the hallway was a grand staircase, made of polished wood. It extended down into the main foyer of the house, led by a carpet the same royal blue as the curtains in my room.

My eyes flicked to the front door, mere meters from me, opposite the staircase. I thought about punching Will in the face and making a dash for it, but then what? I had no clue where I was, thanks to Will's little knockout stunt. Instead, I took the arm he offered and followed him as he led me down the stairs, the way suitors presented pretty women in ball gowns. I felt a flutter in my stomach, and I couldn't tell if it was because I was feeling sick again or if it was at the thought of Will being my suitor. I really hoped I threw up on his shoes.

We reached the bottom of the stairs and moved further into the foyer. Off to the right was a pair of closed double doors. I stood before them, staring at how high they towered over me. My body tensed and Will squeezed my hand to comfort me. I hadn't realised he was still holding on to me; I wanted to let go, but I was afraid my legs would stop working, and I'd collapse on the floor. Somehow, I knew the answers I was seeking were behind those closed doors.

"Are you ready?" Will asked, as though reading my thoughts.

"Sure," I replied, my fingers twitching.

Will released me and moved to grab the door handle. I managed to focus on remembering how to stand, and so far it was working.

"This will be interesting," he said and pushed the doors open.

At first, the room looked like any of the others I'd passed upstairs. It was a sitting room, I was sure of that. There were several blue satin couches surrounding a coffee table, a pot of tea steaming on its surface, and a fire crackling in the hearth on the back wall. A woman with golden eyes looked up at me from the couch, her hair a dark brown bun with streaks of grey intertwined. She smiled at me like I was the best thing she could have laid her eyes on. It made me uncomfortable, for someone I didn't know to look at me like that, and I averted my eyes.

By the fireplace stood a man who was taller than me and Will. His face was stern and his nose slightly turned up, like he smelled something really bad.

"These are the Greenwoods," Will said.

"Oh, Kyra!" the woman sang as she rose from the couch and glided over to me. She wore a stunning blue dress with a large bow tied around the back. She embraced me in a hug, but I stood like a pole, awkwardly.

"Oh, darling, it's so good to have you here," the woman said, and squeezed me tighter.

I glanced at Will who stood straight and tall, like a soldier at attention. He didn't say a word.

Uncomfortable with this woman, I pushed her back, wriggling out of her grasp. She looked hurt by my action and hugged her shoulders like I'd given her the biggest rejection but, seriously, who hugs a stranger?

"Oh, I'm sorry. I should have asked. How rude of me," the woman rambled, returning to her seat.

"She doesn't know who you are, Isabelle," the man sighed, pinching his brow.

"Sure I do," I replied. "You're the people who had me kidnapped."

Isabelle stifled a gasp with her hand, and the man in the corner remained silent, with that turned up look again. Still, I wasn't done. These were the people who had my dad beaten, had me knocked out and taken away.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" I shouted. "You chased after me and my dad our entire lives. Made it so we have to be on the run, all the time. Why couldn't you just leave us alone?" My hands trembled as I tried to fight back tears I didn't want to come. "You hired teenagers to attack me and beat my dad. Not to mention all the weird stuff they seem to be able to do. I mean, why? Why come after me for sixteen years? What could Dad have done to you people that you'd waste your lives chasing us?"

"What he did …" Isabelle said in a tiny voice. "What he did was steal you away sixteen years ago. Kyra, we're your real parents."

That shut me up. I stood there, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

"I …" I stammered, looking to Will for answers.

"It's true," he confirmed with a swift nod, and returned to his soldier stance.

I stared at Isabelle and saw my golden eyes and chocolate hair, the same cheekbone structure; but what did that mean? I'd just met a handful of people who shared my eye colour, and seen portraits of dozens of others. And the man didn't look like me at all, except again for the distinctive eye colour. This was just another trick.

"I don't believe you," I spoke slowly.

"It doesn't matter if you believe it or not. It's true," the man snapped.

"Ivan," Isabelle scolded. "Don't talk to your daughter like that."

"Ivan?" I stared at the snooty man. "You're Ivan? You're the one who ordered them to kidnap me? Ordered Will to knock me out!"

"Necessary precautions," Ivan said, as if that justified everything.

"Oh, Ivan," Isabelle sighed. She turned to me and smiled. "Kyra, it doesn't matter what happened before. What matters is that you've come back to us and we can be a family again."

"You are not my parents," I said. "I have a dad who's probably looking for me right now!"

Ivan shot a glance of pure hatred at Will. "He's still alive."

Will looked up to meet Ivan's eyes. "He wasn't going anywhere. I made sure to knock him out—"

"I told you to kill him," Ivan snarled.

My head darted in Will's direction. He had been ordered to kill my dad, but he didn't.

Because I asked him not to?

"I was thinking in the interest of your relationship with Miss Greenwood. Paying me to kill the person she thought was her father would not make her trust you," Will replied.

Ivan's face was red as a beet. "It's none of your business what relationship I have with my daughter. I ordered you—"

"Darling." Isabelle placed her hands on Ivan's arm. "I know you wanted him dead, but Will was right to do what he did. Until Kyra has adjusted, she will cling to her delusions." She pulled his face to look at her. "He can't hurt us now."

I hated the way they were talking about wanting to kill Dad, and even more for talking about me like I wasn't standing right in front of them. Oh, I'll just get over everything and adjust will I?

"Is Will, like, my brother or something?" I blurted out. Anything to make them stop talking about Dad. Plus, I'd totally failed to pretend to play along with these people. I let my temper get the better of me. I had to act like I sort of believed what they were saying. I wouldn't learn anything if I kept accusing them of kidnapping me.

"What?" Ivan said, confused at my sudden interest in my new family.

"I mean we all have the same eye colour. What about Pyke and Mia? Please don't tell me I'm related to them."

There was a brief silence where Ivan, Isabelle and Will raised their eyebrows at me like I was a crazy person.

"Sweetheart," Isabelle said. "Will isn't related to you, just your father and me."

"Then what's with the golden eye thing?" I shrugged. A flush of relief washed over me. Will wasn't my hot older brother.

Isabelle shook her head. "I forgot you don't know anything about who you are, anything about our race. We're going to have to get you a tutor of some kind," she started rambling again.

"Our race?" Now I was really confused.

"Yes, our race," Isabelle said. "We're Djinn."

Chapter Twelve

"I'm a Djinn," I repeated for the sixteenth time, and still didn't believe it.

"Yes, darling," Isabelle said, pouring three cups of tea, though no one had asked for any.

"I'm a genie who grants wishes and lives in a lamp?" I cocked my head at her, in the hope she'd realise just how insane she sounded.

Isabelle waved a hand at me and snorted. "Genies are silly myths humans created to explain us. Djinn are far different and powerful than you can imagine."

My mind flashed back to
Arabian Nights
. I was only reading it yesterday, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

"Hmm …" Isabelle tapped her chin thoughtfully. "How can I explain this to you? This is fun, isn't it?" Isabelle was becoming creepily cheerful. Will took a step closer and bowed to her.

"Mrs Greenwood, if I may. I might be able to help."

I glanced at Ivan, still standing by the fireplace with his arms crossed. He made a grunting sound under his breath that everyone chose to ignore. What was his problem?

"Very well," she agreed, letting him take the floor.

"Djinn are a race of beings with supernatural powers who have been around as long as the human race," Will spoke as though he were a student, giving a speech in class. "Djinn live all around the world in communities ruled by kings—"

"And sometimes queens," Isabelle added, cheerfully.

"Not for long," Ivan mumbled.

"These communities are in isolated places to hide from those who wish to hurt us."

"And who wants to hurt you?" I asked, actually interested.

"Enough of that," Ivan interrupted. "Kyra can't learn everything about who she is in one day."

"You're so right," Isabelle said. "Will, you seem to explain yourself well. I would like to hire you as a tutor for Kyra."

"As you wish, Mrs Greenwood." Will bowed.

"Really, Isabelle," Ivan began to argue.

"Darling, she really does need a tutor. And you were just saying Kyra might need protection for a little while, and Will is the best we have."

Ivan frowned. "Very well," he said. "But you will do as I say from now on. Down to the letter."

"Of course, Mr Greenwood." Will bowed again.

"Will is doing what now?" I interrupted. "I don't need a tutor." Escaping would be a lot harder if Will was constantly around.

"Will is Guardjinn, but he'll teach you all that later. He'll be looking out for you and making sure you learn everything you need to be a part of society," Isabelle said.

"Wonderful," I sighed.

"It is wonderful, isn't it?" Isabelle clearly didn't understand sarcasm.

I rubbed my temples and closed my eyes. All this pretending to be nice and understanding was giving me a headache. Djinn, pfft, like that was believable. And yet my mind couldn't help but remember Pyke throwing ice, Mia screeching and Dad blowing people away.

I shook my head. Tricks and lies, I told myself. I wasn't a magical creature.

"Look, I'm feeling kind of tired," I said.

"Oh, of course." Isabelle jumped to my side to stroke my hair. "You should get some rest. We'll talk in the morning. Will, would you show Kyra back to her room?"

"Of course, Mrs Greenwood."

Isabelle handed me off to Will and he led me out the door. We walked slowly up the stairs and down the hallway, though I barely noticed as I was passing it. My mind was occupied with even more questions than before. It felt like nothing had been answered, just skipped over and hidden deeper in more lies.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

"Fine," I lied. "I just want to go to sleep."

"No one expects you to understand everything at once. They'll give you time to process."

We'd reached my bedroom door and I spun around to face Will. I didn't want time to process. I wanted to get out of there, as soon as I could.

All my life I thought Dad was running from something normal, like a gambling debt or tax evasion, but this? Magical genies, superpowers and kidnapping? I think they could have come up with a better lie. I mean, anything else would have sounded believable—which was what worried me most. Why make up something so insane if it wasn't true?

"Kyra, I am sorry for everything that has happened to you," he said.

"Like stabbing me in the back." I knew it was a low blow as he had apologised, but I realised that he didn't just mean what had happened yesterday. He was sorry for everything that had ever happened to me. I looked in Will's eyes and saw nothing but concern, which angered me more.

"I just need sleep," I told him and slipped through the doorway, locking myself inside.

I waited until Will's footsteps faded down the hallway before I truly let myself relax. It was the first time I'd been alone since the whole mess started. I double-checked the door was locked before going into the bathroom.

I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, inspecting every inch of my face. They had my eyes, and Isabelle looked so like me. The thought made me want to throw up again. They couldn't be my parents. Dad would never have stolen me. I was his daughter. Every inch of me believed that.

But why, then, did I continue to stare into the mirror?