Djinn (14 page)

I stood in the middle of the room, unsure about anything anymore. Will's gesture had been so kind, so thoughtful. I clenched my fists.

"Stop thinking about how nice he is," I told myself. "Sure he stopped Pyke from killing Dad, but he still knocked him out and stole you away. But all you can think about is "Oh, he brought my book back." Well I'll just forgive him then, shall I?"

I didn't even know why I was yelling to myself. I must have sounded like a crazy person, but I was still right. I'd let these people get under my skin and cause doubts. They were monsters, and I needed to escape this place as soon as possible.

"Like right now," I decided.

I looked back slyly at the door in case Will had been listening, but presumed he hadn't heard anything, or else he'd have broken down the door and tied my up by now.

All the same, I had to be sneaky. I ran over to the bathroom and turned on the shower, so if anyone came in they wouldn't disturb me.

I counted on Will being a gentleman. I remembered something Dad told me once: act exactly how you normally would, so no one suspects you. These people didn't know me at all. Will was the one charged with watching me, which meant he would be the one to notice something amiss.

I peeled off all my clothes and dropped them on the floor while walking to the bathroom. Exactly what I did at home. Only, then I went to the wardrobe and picked out some new clothes. A nice black tracksuit I found near the back was perfect. I dressed, keeping one eye on the door at all times. I found a pair of sneakers, which I laced up tight.

I realised all these clothes, every single piece in the whole wardrobe, was made to fit me. I became more cautious of my plan. Perhaps they knew me better than I thought. I shook my head and tied my hair back in my usual ponytail, slivers falling down in front of my face.

Knowing my size wasn't the same as knowing me.

I scouted the room for anything useful, but it seemed I wasn't trusted with anything that could be used as a weapon.

I pulled open the curtains. They were as heavy as they had been in my dream. Thankfully, the windows opened at the top. It wasn't a large opening, of course, but it was big enough.

I dragged an armchair made of silk and heavy wood over to the window and stood on the soft cushion, pulling at the window latch. It wouldn't open, no matter how hard I tugged. Then I noticed the lock on the side

I'd underestimated these people … again.

I hopped off the armchair and went into the bathroom. Steam filled the room, fogging up the mirror and windows. I opened the mirror cabinet and pulled out the packet of bobby pins I'd seen earlier

I grabbed a few from the box and jumped back on the armchair, nearly toppling it over with my weight and enthusiasm. I bent the bobby pin and worked the lock. Dad had taught me many things over the years—the first of which was picking locks.

I heard the lock click and pushed open the window triumphantly. Sticking three pins in my hair just in case I needed them again, I threw the rest onto the chair and focused on my escape. I took one last look at the room to check it was all clear, hoisted myself up on to the sill and clambered out through the small gap. A drainpipe ran alongside my bedroom window and I grabbed hold of it for support as I landed on the slate roof. I reached back into the room and pulled the curtain in front of the window so no one would think anything was wrong.

It was dark still. Thankfully the moon was only a small sliver in the sky, so it didn't cast a lot of light on the earth, hiding me in the shadows. I crouched low, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the light. I was looking out over a normal suburban neighbourhood with many modern houses built with luxury in mind. They were all two-storey buildings that bordered on mansion rather than family home.

My bedroom faced the back of the house. A large yard was below me, with a small kennel in the far corner. I didn't see a dog and I hoped, if there was one, it didn't start to bark.

I crawled to the edge of the roof, my eyes following the drainpipe all the way down to the grass below. Swinging my legs over the side, I scaled the pipe like a monkey toward the bottom and jumped the last few metres, landing perfectly. I slid my back against the wall, avoiding any light from windows, but all the curtains were closed.

I dashed around the side of the house, skidding to a stop as I spotted the black car Will drove sitting in the driveway.

"Thank you," I said to the heavens, and moved to the driver's side door.

I pulled two of my trusty bobby pins from my hair and picked away at the car lock. I was almost done when I paused, realizing that, if opened, the car door and then the alarm could go off—if it had one, and I suspected it did.

I opened the hood of the car as quietly as possible and searched the engine for alarm wires. That was another thing Dad had made sure to teach me about: cars. Most problems with the Ute I could fix easily, except full-blown engine failure, which is what got us stuck in that small town in the first place.

I spotted the wires but I didn't have anything to cut them with. I glanced back at the house; perhaps I could sneak in and steal a knife from the kitchen.

"Can I help you with something?"

I jumped, whacking my head on the hood of the car. I covered my mouth with my hand to stifle the groan I so desperately wanted to let out. Grabbing my head, I rubbed the banged up spot, a bump already forming. I turned, but I already knew whose voice it was.

Will stood there, smiling at my misfortune.

"Don't you know it's past your bedtime?"

I wanted to pin Will to the wall and punch him in the face, but my head was throbbing and I was worried I might collapse if I moved. I perched on the edge of the car's bumper, rubbing my head.

"Well, you found me," I sighed.

"Guess I did," he replied. "How's your head?"

I scowled at him. "It would have been fine if you hadn't sneaked up on me."

"I believe you were the one doing the sneaking," he said.

"Didn't fall for my leaving the shower on act?" I smirked. "Oh my god, you went into the bathroom to check on me. You perv!"

"No one showers that long," he said, ignoring my remark. "Not to mention I was expecting you to try something again."

"Oh, were you now?" I didn't like the way he analysed me, pretending to know me.

"I've seen the way you looked at Malcolm. You believe without a doubt he's your father, despite what Isabelle and Ivan said. I watched you when they told you. You didn't believe it for a second."

I glanced away, and wondered if he noticed. I had doubted, a little bit. I let the idea get underneath my skin and I started thinking; but he was right, I didn't entirely believe them.

"What did you think you were doing?" he asked, a little harsher than usual. "Where would you go?"

"Where would I go?" I repeated. "I'd go home. I'd find Dad and get as far away from you people as possible."

I wanted to shout, but I still had hope of getting out of this place and didn't want to wake anyone. I had two obstacles: Will and the car alarm. If I could take out Will, chances were he'd have a knife on him. Then I could cut the wires and escape.

"You don't trust me," he said.

"Why would I trust you? You've given me no reason to, not one." He didn't say anything, only stared. "And don't think that bringing me a book would make me forget what you did." I poked him in the chest, backing him up.

"I stopped Pyke," he said. "I would never have let him kill Malcolm, and I would never hurt you."

"You knocked my dad out," I reminded him.

"He's not your father!" Will grabbed my shoulders and shook me a little. "He stole you from your real parents and lied to you your entire life."

I was shocked, for a moment, that he was speaking to me this way.

"You're the liar," I accused him. "You, Isabelle, Ivan, all of you! I know who my father is, and it's not that cold, stuck-up man in there." I pointed an accusing finger at the house. My eyes filled with fury for Will and everyone else I'd met in the last two days.

"Why would I believe it?" I asked him. "It makes no sense. None of it."

"I know it's a little crazy, but surely you've seen enough to convince you?"

He was close to me now. I could feel his breath on my face. It was sweet, like honey, and his golden eyes were locked on mine. I had seen a lot of crazy stuff in the last few days, but did I believe it?

"I … I can't believe … I just can't," I stammered, not entirely sure why I couldn't get the words out.

"It's because of Malcolm, isn't it?" Will guessed. "Even though you've seen unbelievable things, magical things. You still won't believe it because, if you did, that would mean your father was a monster and you were wrong about him."

I was speechless. He'd guessed correctly. My body trembled and I bit my lower lip. Will took my silence as his answer and nodded.

"I wish you hadn't formed such a close bond to him. It would make things so much easier for you, but it's not the way it is. I have to convince you of the truth, even if it means hurting you."

"Why?" I asked, almost in tears. "Because it's your job to ruin my life?"

He brushed back a sliver of fallen hair behind my ear. "My job has a lot to do with your life right now, but the truth? That's something you deserve to know. I don't think you would want to be lied to by anyone."

Tears flooded to my eyes, just waiting to spill over. I knew whatever he was about to say was going to shatter my world forever, and I just wanted to hold onto that moment of innocence for just a little while longer.

Will pulled a photograph from his pocket and handed it to me. "This is the truth," he said.

I took the photo and unfolded it. It was the photo from my room back home, the one of me as a baby in my mother's arms, but it was different. This photo was bigger and showed more. It showed my mother.

It showed Isabelle holding me as a baby.

"Oh god!" Tears flooded down my cheeks as realisation kicked in. They were telling the truth. Dad kidnapped me and Isabelle and Ivan were my real parents. He'd lied to me about everything: my entire life, just one big lie.

I lost all sense of the world and fell to my knees, only to be pulled into Will's arms.

"I'm sorry," he said in a sincere voice, leaning his forehead against mine. He squeezed me tight, holding me together. So close. I was beginning to realise Will always meant everything he did and said. That was just who he was.

I sobbed and sobbed until Will's shirt was damp with my tears. My throat hurt and my eyes itched. All I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and never face the world again.

"I was kidnapped," I whispered. Saying the words out loud made them true; and they were true. Every memory I had with Dad, or
Malcolm
, flooded back like an old rerun. Teaching me to ride a bike. Showing me how to jump-start a car. Cuddling with me on the couch.

The images only made me cry harder. Every single happy moment, every playful banter, every hug, it was all a lie. A. Lie.

"How am I supposed to get the last sixteen years back?" I sobbed.

"You can't," Will replied, still holding me. "But you can have a life now. The life you were supposed to have. I can teach you everything you missed—"

"Oh no!"

"What?" Will asked.

"I really am a Djinn. I'm a magical genie creature."

"I know it's a lot to take in, but the important thing is, you know the truth now. This is a huge step."

I snuggled into his shirt more. It didn't feel like a huge step. It just felt like my heart had been ripped out and I'd been left on the floor to bleed out.

Chater Fourteen

My crying stopped, after a while. My tears dried up, leaving my eyes stinging. I must have looked horrible, all red, blotched and trembling. Will helped me stand, checking my head for any signs of concussion, but he said I'd be fine.

Holding me up, he walked me around the back of the house. I usually didn't like people helping me, but at that moment I was a complete wreck.

We went through the back door. Luckily, Will didn't want us to scale back up the side of the house. The back door led us through the dark kitchen and into the main foyer. All the lights were off, but Will guided me without a second thought.

We moved in silence up the staircase and down the hallway. No one noticed our presence as we arrived at my bedroom door. Will opened it like a gentleman and led me inside. He pulled back the blankets on my bed, scooped me up in his arms and tucked me in, like I was a small child.

"Don't go," I said as he turned to leave. I grabbed his hand weakly to stop him.

"You need to sleep," he replied.

"I don't want you to go. You're the only one I trust."