I stood, walked across the kitchen and opened one of the many drawers. There were five sets of keys inside. I thought about it and decided Dad would probably like to drive the SUV. For me, I pocketed the keys to the Bugatti Veyron.
“Here.” I offered him the keys. “You can drive the Land Rover. It’s more comfortable and practical than any of his sports cars.” I smiled sadly.
Dad took the keys and consider them. “How many cars does he have?”
“I dunno. Five here in New Orleans. More elsewhere. Only he knows.”
“I think I’d still feel better if I drove you to class. You shouldn’t be alone.” He looked me in the eye with a serious expression. His gaze said he was worried about me.
“Dad—” I was interrupted by the doorbell. We exchanged nervous glances.
Dad stood up. “I’ll see who it is. You stay here.”
“No, Dad. Don’t!” I ran to his side and put a hand on his arm.
“You said it’s all bulletproof, right?”
I nodded.
He patted my hand. “All right, I’ll just look through the peephole.”
I walked behind him.
“Stay here,” he said as we reached the foyer.
He approached the door without making any noise and looked through the peephole. A sigh of relief escaped him. “It’s Maven and Abby.”
I held my breath, remembering the times Zet had fooled me by posing as Maven. But before I could say anything, Dad opened the door.
“Hey, kids.”
“Hi, Mr. Iris. How are you?” Maven said.
“Doing all right, come on in.”
Abby walked in first. She wore a red, plaid mini skirt, a black top and knee high combat boots with many buckles. Her short hair was standing up in all directions and her eyes were dark with heavy make-up. Maven followed, looking relatively plain in his blue jeans, sneakers and a white t-shirt.
Dad threw a furtive glance outside, then shut the door.
“Oh, Elle!” Abby exclaimed when she took in my appearance.
“Hi,” I said, suspiciously looking her up and down.
Could Akeelah impersonate two people at once?
Probably.
Unaware of my distrust, she walked over and enveloped me in a tight hug. “How are you doing? I’m so sorry about your house.”
She pulled away, blinking her big brown eyes. Her heavily mascaraed lashes fluttered with emotion. I immediately decided this was Abby. Akeelah wasn’t capable of anything but hate.
Maven awkwardly waved from across the room, looking as worried as Abby.
“Thank you, guys,” I said, glad they had decided to check on me. They didn’t know it yet, but they would help me make my escape. “It was nice of you to stop by.”
“Yeah, very nice,” Dad agreed.
“We just wanted to know how you were doing,” Abby said. “I can’t imagine how you must feel. I brought you a few things.” Abby handed me a small duffel bag. “It’s not much, just some make-up, shampoo, and stuff like that. I would’ve brought you some clothes, but there ain’t no way your stork legs would fit in my pants.”
“Thanks.” I had to look down at the ground to hold back the tears that filled my eyes.
“No worries.”
I cleared my throat and turned to Dad. “Well, I guess I can ride to school with Maven and Abby, if they don’t mind.”
“Of course, we don’t mind,” Maven said.
Abby frowned, eyes roving around, looking for Faris. He always took me to class, so this was an odd request.
“I guess that’s fine,” Dad said. “You promise to behave?”
Abby and Maven looked at each other, puzzled. I crossed my fingers behind my back, feeling childish. I wasn’t in the habit of lying to Dad, and the bit of superstition felt oddly comforting.
“Sure.” Surprisingly, my voice was steady and convincing.
“Good. I think I’ll leave, then. I’ll go make myself useful at the nursery. I’ll get a few basics on the way home, and we can go shopping after dinner. Sound good?”
I nodded, unable to look him in the eye.
Dad switched his attention to Maven. “Can you take care of these girls? Make sure they get safely to class?”
“Sure, Mr. Iris. No problem.”
We followed Dad into the kitchen as he headed for the back door that led to the garage.
“Dad,” I called out as he walked out. “Be careful.”
He nodded. “You too, kiddo.”
After he left, I faced my friends and found them standing side by side, regarding me with a mixture of concern and curiosity.
“What’s going on, Elle? We texted you,” Abby said. “Why didn’t you reply? We were worried.”
“Um,” I tried to remember the last time I’d seen my phone. “I think I left my cell in Quebec,” I said to myself in a low voice.
Abby leaned in, her ear cocked in my direction. “Did you just say Quebec? As in Canada? You mean you and Faris had another impromptu trip?”
Damn it! I really needed to be in the moment, not lost in my own thoughts.
Abby’s wasn’t an unlikely question since, in the last few months, Faris and I had been to Puerto Vallarta, San Juan, and Buenos Aires. The trips had been short and courtesy of Djinn Air, meant to help me improve my Spanish and knowledge of Hispanic culture. The quick immersions had done more for my pronunciation and comprehension than any time spent in the classroom or with my nose inside a textbook.
Our time in those places had been magical, with slow walks down cobblestone streets and exotic dinners by candlelight. With a sad smile, I shut away the memories. I couldn’t think of all the things we’d done together or the plans we’d made that might never come to fruition now.
“Um, something like that,” I finally answered.
Abby frowned, sensing something was up.
Oblivious to my subtle anxious mood, Maven walked to the Subzero and pulled it open. “Some fridge,” he said, poking his head inside. “So where is Faris? Think he’d mind if I drank some of his milk? I didn’t eat breakfast. Miss Impatient here,” he gave Abby a reproachful backward glance, “didn’t even let me stop by McDonald’s for a biscuit.”
“He won’t mind,” I sat on one of the tall stools at the end of the countertop. “You can eat my French toast, too, if you want. I’m not hungry.”
“So where is Faris?” Abby asked.
Maven opened a few cupboards, looking for a glass. I didn’t bother telling him where to find one and instead propped my elbows on the counter and buried my face into shaking hands. I had no idea how to answer that question.
“What is it, Elle?” Abby rushed to my side and rubbed my back. “Did something happen with Faris?”
Swirls and flashes of light appeared before my eyes. I straightened and quit putting so much pressure on my face. The swirls went away. Maven looked on expectantly, one hand holding the gallon of milk and the other resting on an open cabinet door. Rows of crystal glasses sparkled on the shelves behind him.
“I—I wouldn’t know where to start,” I confessed.
“Well, from the beginning, of course, silly.” Abby made herself comfortable on the stool next to mine.
“It would take all day. You guys should go to class.”
“All day?” Abby said. “I’ve got all day. Who cares about class? If I have to fluff one more little old lady’s blue hair, I’ll have a stroke. This is better.”
Maven placed the milk on the counter and stood across from us on the other side of the island. He shook his head, making his blond hair swing from side to side. “No, I promised your dad I’d take you to class.”
“Oh, puh-leeze.” Abby rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t give a crap about that promise if you’d made it to someone else. You only care because you think that by impressing Mr. Iris, you’ll get Marielle somehow. Well, guess what, stud? It won’t work. She’s in love with Faris.”
“Abby!” I fumbled for words. “Let’s not . . .”
She’d never said anything so blatant before. Sure, she’d hinted at Maven’s attraction to me several times, but nothing like this. Had she given up on keeping things civil? Maybe she was finally fed up. I had suspected it would come to this sooner or later, but right now had to be the worst time for all that drama.
“Why not, Elle? Let’s lay it out in the open.” Abby thrust her chin forward.
Maven glowered. “Shut up, Abby.”
“Guys, please,” I begged.
“Look, it’ll be a lot easier this way,” Abby continued, ignoring us both. “Maven, you’re stuck on Marielle. You’re mad because Faris came out of nowhere and—in your mind—took her away from you. But she was never your girlfriend. You never asked her out. You snooze, you lose.”
Maven’s blue eyes grew stormy, capable of unleashing a tempest. Abby either didn’t notice or didn’t care, and continued her off-the-cuff analysis of the situation.
“On the other hand, Marielle thinks that I like you and we should be together.” Abby made a face as if she had something smelly under her nose. “But let me assure you, that’s not the case. I have no interest in ever, ever—did I say ever?—dating you. So you,” she pointed at me, “stop trying to set us up, and you,” she turned to Maven and looked him up and down, “stop acting like I have the plague and you’d rather die before going out with me. Because, trust me, I’d rather eat live snakes. Are we all clear? Can we move on past all the awkwardness and on to the important issue here?”
“You’re a witch, you know?” Maven sneered.
“Maven,” I reproached.
“And you’re a brute.” Abby stood, stomped around the island to the cabinet Maven had left open, and pulled out three glasses. She poured milk in all three and left two on the counter. After taking a huge gulp, she said, “Now, get over yourself, Maven. You’ll find someone. Someday. At least now we’re clear that someone won’t be me.” She licked her milk mustache very slowly, holding Maven’s gaze.
“As if,” Maven said, staring down at mean, petite Abby White.
“Drink your milk. It’ll help you grow strong, Baby Blues,” she offered.
“I told you not to call me that,” Maven protested.
“Well, if—”
I exhaled and hopped off my stool. “I don’t have time for this.”
“Elle, wait!” Abby put a hand on my forearm. “I’m sorry.”
“I have things to do. Y’all go on to class. I’ll be fine,” I said.
Maven grabbed the milk jug, marched to the refrigerator and practically threw it inside. “It’s your fault, Abby.”
Abby whirled, a little, rabid tornado. “My fault? My fault? I was just trying to clear the air so we can move on and forget all the awkwardness, to save us time and trouble.”
“Here we go again.” Maven shook his head. “We came here for Marielle, not so you could regale us with your Ragin’ Cajun spirit.”
I backed away very slowly, sneaked out of the kitchen and headed upstairs. They were both so intent on each other, arguing and figuring out the next best insult, that neither one of them noticed when I slipped out.
Upstairs, I retrieved the briefcase from under the bed, trying to ignore Maven and Abby’s angry voices. I was back at the top of the stairs, getting ready to go down, when Maven asked, “Where’s Marielle?”
A moment later, they rushed out of the kitchen and into the foyer.
“There you are!” Abby exclaimed.
I went down the staircase, one slow step at a time. I loved my friends, but at the moment, I couldn’t help but wish they’d just go away.
Abby frowned. “What’s with the old fuddy-duddy briefcase?”
“Are you guys done?” I asked, the last bit of my patience gone. “From the looks of it, you’ll either kill or marry each other.” I added when I reached the bottom of the steps.
Abby shuddered dramatically. Maven mimed gagging. They angled their bodies toward each other, ready for another match.
There was only one way to stop them from going at each other’s throats. “I’m leaving town to find a way to help Faris. He was taken hostage by an evil Djinn.”
They paused and turned their heads in my direction in slow motion. After appraising me for a couple of seconds, they exchanged a worried glance. I sighed and headed for the study.
“What are you talking about?” Abby fell in step right behind me.
“Just what I said.”
“Did you hit your head or something? Maven said you weren’t there when the fire happened, but maybe you inhaled some smoke.” She followed me all the way to Faris’s desk, while Maven stayed at the threshold, frowning at me.
“I have some research to do.” I set the briefcase on the desk and opened the laptop. “So . . . enjoy class.”
“No way in hell we’re leaving after you dropped that one on us. Right, Maven?” she said.
“Right,” Maven answered, walking further into the study.
“Oh, now you’re all about solidarity,” I quipped. “Whatever happened to tearing each other’s throats out?”
“Well, you claiming that your boyfriend was kidnapped by a Djinn trumps everything else. I mean like everything.” She came around the desk as I sat in front of the computer and opened the internet browser. “Explain yourself!”
Maven reclined against the back of the suede sofa, crossed his arms and stared at us.
I looked backwards at Abby. “I hate when people look over my shoulder.” I lifted an eyebrow and jerked my head to one side to indicate she should move.
“Fine.” She stomped away, joined Maven on the sofa and crossed her arms, too.
I typed “Islam studies” in the browser’s search box. A long list of links appeared. I tried to read through them but could feel Maven and Abby’s eyes on me like little insistent fingers tapping on my forehead, trying their hardest to steal my attention from the computer, and succeeding.
“Will you two stop!” I slapped both hands on the desk.
Neither one of them said anything. They just raised their eyebrows and inclined their heads to the right, like perfect little twins, demanding answers.
“All right, fine. But it doesn’t get any better than what I just told you. It gets worse, and if you think I’m crazy now, you’ll be ready to put me in a straitjacket when I’m done.”
“We might,” Abby offered. “But we’ll do it gently.”
Maven elbowed her.
“What? That’s what friends do, right?” She blinked innocent eyes at him.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I closed the laptop, stood and took a deep breath. “You,” I looked at Maven, “sit there.” I pointed to the armchair on the left side, across from the suede sofa. For Abby, I demonstrated the armchair on the right. “You will be quiet. You will not laugh. You will not ask any questions until I’m done. If you break these rules, I’ll stop and physically kick you out of here. And don’t think I won’t. Understood?”
Maven nodded.
Abby said, “Yes, ma’am.”
I narrowed my eyes at her and her need to always have the last word. It seemed my feisty, little friend needed an extra incentive to stay quiet. “Have you considered how much taller I am than you?” I asked.
“What is this? Make-fun-of-vertically-challenged-Abby day?” She pouted.
I sat right in the middle of the suede sofa to form a triangle with them. “No. I’m just trying to make a point. It won’t be hard at all to kick you out of here. I have a feeling Maven might be the only one left in here after I’m done with my story.”
Abby opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to bite her tongue. She pushed far back into the armchair—which seemed to swallow her whole—and crisscrossed her legs, eyebrows pinched in a deep scowl.
“I’m glad we understand each other,” I said. “Okay, this wild story starts with Grandpa,” I began. And for the next hour, I told them everything.
They listened quietly, the astonishment on their face
s growing with every new turn in the story. They heard about my inheritance from Grandpa, Faris’s evil brother and the curse each carried. I told them about Zet’s pact with Akeelah, the way I broke Faris free and trapped his crazy brother back inside the stone. They heard how Akeelah had come back with a vengeance and had gotten herself a minion to do the dirty work she couldn’t do herself, and how the evil Djinn and her crazy, little sidekick were responsible for burning my house and blowing up The Treasure Chest casino (at which point Abby gasped, but managed to hold her words back) and how, ultimately, Faris had decided to go with Akeelah, hoping to find a way to stop her evil scheme.
“It’s possible Akeelah’s plans involve causing more carnage. Probably like what she did at the casino, or worse,” I continued. “Faris feels it’s his responsibility to stop her, since there’s no one else who can do anything about it. We’re the only ones who even know she’s a threat.”
Recounting all the details brought on a deep urgency to do something, to act rather than just sit here telling stories. “I can’t let him fight alone. I have to do something. I know I’m just a girl, but there has to be something I can do. There has to be a way to fight her, to trap her or banish her. And if there is, I intend to find out and do everything in my power to make it happen. I won’t abandon Faris,” I finished with conviction, feeling more self-assured about my plans than I’d felt so far.
For the first time since I could remember, Abby sat wide-eyed and mute. She had one hand pressed to her chest, while the other one clutched the arm of the chair, her hot pink, manicured nails digging into the fine leather.
Maven swallowed audibly and slowly lifted a hand as if he was in class. “Is it okay to talk now?”
I nodded.
“So you’re saying a crazy . . . genie possessed me and then threatened to kill me if you didn’t hand over the . . .” he seemed unable to finish.
“The stone which was Faris’s prison,” I finished for him.
“A Djinn in a stone? This is whack,” Abby said, pronouncing each word very slowly. “Um, not to be mean, but I don’t know if I can believe any of this without some sort of proof.”
Two Hearts Asunder (Djinn Empire Book 2) Page 13