Jinn Nation

by Caroline Barnard-Smith

  "What's going on, Lindy?" Dylan said. He was amazed at the speed with which these jinn assassins had been dispatched, he'd left Bredia shrieking in her townhouse barely an hour before.

  "The Goddess has decided she has no love for your acquaintances. We've been ordered to–" she paused, the grin on her face stretching wider, "deal with them."

  "No bloody way," Dylan said, surging forward. He was stopped by two burly jinn breaking from the group to face him, teeth bared, fire flaring in their eyes. "Get out of my way."

  The man on the right, a middle-aged ex-punk with a cheap stud in his nose, thinning hair teased into a greasy grey cloud, shook his head at him. "You can't go against Bredia," he said. "Stupid vampire." His companion laughed while Dylan grimaced at them both.

  "You can't fight all of us," Lindy said, sashaying across the room with a swing in her hips Dylan had never seen before. She stopped before him and raised her hand to stroke his cheek, laughing when he growled and pulled away from her. "I never did understand what Bredia saw in you," she said. "She had so many others to choose from, to make her companion. Why would she choose a dirty blood drinker?"

  "Instead of you, you mean? It’s obvious you're in love with her."

  "Everyone's in love with the Goddess," Lindy snapped, her voice rising. "She's our mother, our protector." She turned to the jinn flanking Rob and Jenna. "Let's get on with this, shall we?"

  A particularly tall man, lithe and muscular, pulled a curved samurai sword from the inside of his coat. The lethal blade glinted in the light, the glossy black handle painted with delicate leaves and flowers. It seemed far too pretty to be used for such a gross and messy act.

  Lindy grinned again as she followed the direction of Dylan's gaze. "I know vampires are hard to kill," she said, "but I thought decapitation should do it. I bet I can guess what you're thinking."

  "I sincerely doubt it." Dylan spoke through gritted teeth, his entire body shaking with rage.

  "I bet you're wishing you hadn't dumped the little witch in New York. She'd be really useful right about now."

  "I survived for centuries before I met Christa," Dylan said, trying to keep Lindy talking. His eyes roved the room, looking for a weapon, inspiration, anything that would save his friends. "In times past I didn't rely on magick, I used my fists and teeth." He stared at the two jinn standing in front of him, daring them to test his claim.

  "So what?" Lindy said, her tone so nonchalant it made Dylan want to grip her by the shoulders and shake her skull from her spine. "You're outnumbered, it doesn't matter how scary your fists and teeth are."

  As Lindy turned from him to give the inevitable order to the jinn wielding the samurai sword, Dylan sprung away from his two guards, so quickly they looked around in confusion, wondering if he had vanished into thin air. He jumped up onto a large writing bureau against the wall, his movements a blur of concentrated precision, and reached into the pocket of his jeans for his lighter. Lindy was too slow to realise what was happening and by the time she whirled back around, disbelief and anger twisting her face, Dylan had set light to a rolled up newspaper. He held it aloft like an Olympic torch, waving it at the ex-punk when he attempted to advance towards him.

  “As I recall, you people have no taste for fire," he said. "I don’t like it very much myself, but I’ve never found myself doused in the wretched stuff.”

  He leapt, cat-like, at the man before him, striking him with the newspaper torch as he descended and springing neatly away when he landed on the carpet. The man screamed in panic as the flames took hold of his T-shirt and roared upwards, engulfing his face and stringy hair. The other jinn rushed forward to help their companion but were halted when Dylan moved the torch in a wide arc, threatening any who came too close. Small tatters of blackened newspaper, still alight, drifted from the torch to the carpet, gathering against the bottom of a sofa. Behind Dylan, the ex-punk fell to the floor and began to roll around, tangling himself in the pile of dirty clothes Rob had left beside the bathroom door. They blazed in an instant, the loud rush of flames drowning out the man's agonised cries as they spread to the wallpaper and ceiling.

  "You stupid idiot!" Lindy screamed, running towards Dylan even as he brandished the torch in her direction, now burnt almost to his fingers. He threw the remains at her but she dodged them and kept running, smacking him in the face and chest when she finally reached him.

  While Dylan tried to catch hold of her flailing hands and restrain her, he saw that the jinn were panicked, wildly looking for an exit and beginning to claw at each other in desperation when they saw the front door was rippling with blue flame. He shoved Lindy hard in the chest, winding her and making her fall backwards into the flames now licking at the sofa. She screamed, scrambling to escape her fiery prison, and was sent spiralling back into its skin-blistering embrace when the samurai sword wielder, running from the rapidly spreading blaze arching across the ceiling, tripped over a coffee table and fell on her.

  Dylan jumped over their tangled mess of arms and legs, trying to find Rob and Jenna amid the sudden outpouring of thick, choking smoke. With a deep feeling of relief, he spotted them beside the large bay windows, struggling to work the complicated lock and escape to the balcony outside.

  "Why bother?" Dylan said when he reached them. "This is much easier."

  He punched the glass, putting his entire weight behind it, and turned his face away as it rippled and shattered outwards. When he pulled his hand back he looked around, making sure the jinn were still preoccupied. Those that had given up trying to find a second door had sunk to the floor, trembling and rocking as they waited for death. Only one of them had the presence of mind to remember where the windows were. Dylan watched him as he pushed his way past his fellow jinn, his eyes igniting with hope when he saw the three vampires standing before the balcony. He paused before them, the lop-sided smile on his face seeming to ask if he was allowed admittance through the window. Dylan punched him, so swift and hard he felt the man's nose crunch and collapse beneath his knuckles. He crumpled to the floor, bloodied and still.

  "Come on," Dylan said, indicating the balcony.

  One by one, the vampires stepped through the broken shards of the window and onto the narrow balcony.

  "Now what?" Rob said. He was holding Jenna tightly at his side. She was blank-eyed and pale, hardly able to stand unaided. "There's no fire escape."

  "We're going to jump."

  Both Dylan and Rob peered over the balcony railings, squinting at the thin ribbon of road and crawling matchbox cars beneath them. Jenna murmured, burying her head in Rob's shoulder.

  "It's okay, baby," he told her. "You're already dead, remember? This will just hurt like hell."

  A blast of fire broke from the apartment and exploded over the balcony, so hot Dylan could feel the back of his neck blister and his hair begin to smoke. "I'd rather jump than burn," he shouted over the crackling rage of the flames, "at least this way, I'll wake up."

  "Good point," Rob shouted back.

  They looked at each other, nodded, and climbed up onto the low railings, Rob hauling Jenna behind him.

  "Ready?" Dylan said. "One, two, three."

  They toppled from the balcony together, gathering speed and turning in the air as they fell. Rob held Jenna to his chest like a priceless treasure, spinning around to cushion her imminent impact with the hard tarmac. She screamed as they fell, a long, loud siren that chased their rapid descent and spiralled away on the cold roar of the wind beating against their ears. Dylan twisted to see the road, the gathering crowds and the stalled cars as they loomed larger, closer. He briefly wondered how far up they had been, marvelling at the time it seemed to be taking them to reach the bottom of the apartment building. Then the world closed down and everything went black.

  ***

  Dylan awoke to find his mouth coated with cloying blood and the sharp dust of shattered teeth. He brought a tentative hand to his lips, feeling for his fangs and relived to find they had already reformed. A s
udden pain broke over him, a sickening, stretching sensation that flushed his skin with white hot agony. His broken body was mending itself, every bone clicking back into place, lengthening and fusing. He shuddered in the dark, waiting for his body to heal so that he could move again. He was lying on something hard, icy cold against his naked flesh. With a panicked lurch that ripped through his aching chest anew, he realised he was laid out on a slab in a morgue. Somewhere beyond the darkness, a woman was crying.

  It was another hour before Dylan felt able to move again. He flexed his feet experimentally, grinning at the strength that had returned to his arms and legs. With a grunt, he pushed outwards with the soles of his feet, applying pressure until he felt something give. He slid out of a small door in a wall, naked and blinking in the harsh light of a hospital. Similar doors spanned the wall behind him, each one the entrance to a refrigerated drawer containing a cadaver. Dylan swung himself from the stainless steel tray and attempted to stand, steadying himself with one hand as he wobbled on his feet. He scanned the row of drawers, wondering which ones contained his friends.

  "Rob? Jenna? Are you in here?"

  A frenzied knocking followed by muffled shouting sprang up from a drawer on his left. Dylan gripped the handle and pulled it open, releasing Rob from his stainless steel prison.

  "Shit," he said, shielding his eyes from the light. "Shit, shit. That was wild."

  "It was wildly unpleasant," Dylan said. He smiled despite himself, happy to see his friend undead and well. "We have to find Jenna."

  "Oh man, Jenna," Rob said, as if remembering her presence for the first time. He jumped to the floor and swayed against Dylan, struggling to regain his balance. "Fuck, I'm dizzy."

  "So was I. It will wear off."

  They took it in turns to knock on doors, calling Jenna's name. Eventually, Rob elicited a whimper from the very last drawer in the row. "Over here," he shouted, "I’ve found her."

  Dylan watched Rob hoist open Jenna’s drawer, flinching when she began to buck and scream as she emerged into the light, tears streaming down her dirt-streaked face and hands clenched to fists at her sides.

  “Shut her up before somebody comes,” he warned.

  Rob clumsily pulled her from the steel tray, collapsing with her in a heap to the ground. She continued to whimper and sob, clawing at him in an attempt to get away.

  “It’s okay,” he said, gripping her hands tightly in his own. “It’s all okay, now. Look, you’re fine.”

  “I’m dead, I’m dead,” she said, her voice high and manic.

  “Yes, that was the deal,” Dylan said. “You signed up to be a sodding vampire, an undead immortal. Remember?”

  “Don’t be a prick,” Rob said, gathering Jenna into his arms and stroking her hair. “She’s got every right to be upset. One day as a vampire and she’s already been threatened with a sword and chucked from a burning building. You’d be fucked up, too.”

  They all turned when the door burst open and a short, stocky woman bustled into the room, dressed in a medical uniform. “What’s all this noise?” she demanded. “Who’s in here?”

  The woman stopped when she saw the three naked people clustered before the three open drawers, her mouth dropping open in mute horror. Dylan rushed at her, clamping his hand over her mouth before she had a chance to scream and attract more attention. He turned to his friends with a grin on his face.

  “Who’s hungry?”

  ***

  Dylan looked up from his book as another scream of delight rattled through the building, rending his concentration. He threw the creased paperback across the room and leapt up from the bed.

  “Will you two please shut up?” he shouted in the direction of the adjoining room. When the occupants refused to reply, he crossed the cramped space and opened their door without knocking, pausing on the threshold as he tried to decipher what it was he was looking at. Rob was straddling Jenna on the single bed, his expression one of intense concentration as he gazed down at her naked back, one hand clenched around a humming tattoo machine. Jenna looked up when Dylan entered, her eyes sleepy, lids heavy with alcohol, and raised her hand in a half-wave.

  “Hey, Dylan. Rob’s giving me a tattoo.”

  “Yes, I can see that.”

  Dylan moved into the room and peered down at the intricate design on Jenna’s back. Traditional skulls and roses surrounded a buxom, naked woman, minute drops of blood falling from the fangs protruding from her full lips. When Rob moved his needle to start another skull, Jenna shivered and screamed again, making Dylan draw back in alarm. He glowered at them as Rob stretched, shifting his weight on the back of Jenna’s legs.

  “I told you to stay fucking still,” Rob told her. “You want a piece of crap on your back for all eternity?”

  Dylan shook his head and left them to it, returning to his lumpy mattress and poorly-written novel. He yearned to leave the stinking rooms they had rented and slip into the city, to saunter into a wine bar and mingle with the beautiful people. But they were lying low, hiding from Bredia’s rapidly multiplying spies until they could leave London safely. It was a miserable time and Dylan was hungry and irritable.

  He had barely read a page before Rob approached him, the fingers of one hand entwined in the tail of his long beard. “You okay, man?”

  Dylan closed his book, grateful for the interruption. “Why does she have to scream so much? She’s bloody loud for a fledgling.”

  “She doesn’t,” Rob said, flinging himself into a creaking chair beside Dylan’s make-shift bed. “You just notice every little noise because you’re pissed off being here. But do you think we want to be locked in this shit hole? You’re not the only one, man. We’re all bored as fuck.”

  Dylan lapsed into silence while he pretended to rearrange his sagging pillows, unwilling to admit that Rob was right. When he looked back at his friend, he was grinning at him. “You think you’re so clever,” Dylan said, trying not to return Rob’s smile. “You think you’re bloody Sigmund Freud. So, Siggy, have you thought of an escape plan yet? A way for us to get out of the city without being seen by the jinn? No, I thought not.” Dylan reached for his cigarettes, lighting and inhaling before offering one to Rob.

  “We’ll do what you said at the beginning,” Rob said, blowing two long plumes of smoke from his nostrils, “we’ll wait until the heat’s off. Bredia won’t look for us forever. She’s got big plans, according to you.”

  “Yes, she has indeed. A jinn army and world domination. Simple, mindless tasks for a criminally insane megalomaniac with a goddess’s powers, I’m sure.”

  Rob began to laugh, stopping when Dylan’s face remained immobile and stony. “You don’t miss her, do you?” he said. Then louder, “She wanted to fucking kill me and Jenna. In front of you.”

  “I stopped it, didn’t I? I saved your sorry arses. Keep your beard on, Rob.” Dylan sighed, stubbing his cigarette out in a dirty ashtray perilously close to overflowing before settling back on the mattress. “I don’t miss Bredia. She was intense in an unpleasant way, disarming and unpredictable. I think what I miss is being a part of something. Bredia’s on the brink of a new world order. She’s a fearless leader with a rabid, unfaltering following, and I could have been on her arm.”

  “Do you regret dumping her?”

  “You don’t dump a goddess, Rob. You have a difference of ideology.”

  “But do you regret it?”

  Dylan paused to ponder this, his lips pressed together and his head lowered. Finally he looked at Rob, careful to maintain eye contact as he said, “No. I don’t regret it. My people, vampires, come first. Even young, noisy vampires like Jenna.”

  “She’s beautiful though, isn’t she?” Rob said.

  “How is she coping?” Dylan said. “She still seems weak, she sleeps a lot.”

  “She’s okay. I wish she could feed more. It’s hard when we can’t leave these fucking rooms.”

  “I don’t think she’ll ever be as strong as us, even if she had a hundre
d people to feed from. She only had you and me to draw upon when she was reborn.”

  “I know that,” Rob said, fidgeting in his chair. “But it was the same for me, wasn’t it? I only had you and Gwyneth to drink from when I was made vampire, and there’s nothing wrong with me.”

  “True,” Dylan said, a wistful reminiscence briefly clouding his eyes, making their glittering depths appear inky and dull, “but Gwyneth was a very special creature. I never knew another vampire like her. She was voracious, full to her very core with both the light and the dark.”

  A timid knocking at the front door made them both sit up straighter.

  “Who’s that?” Rob whispered.

  Dylan shrugged in a vain attempt to appear nonchalant. “I suppose we should find out.”

  He approached the door slowly, half-expecting it to burst open at any moment, giving entrance to an outpouring of enraged jinn. He paused when he reached it, ear cocked against the wood. “Who’s there?”

  “I need to speak to Dylan.”

  Dylan frowned, surprised by the man’s American accent. He sniffed the air, his stomach turning when his senses recognised the familiar scent of salty, mortal skin. “Do I know you?”

  “No, we’ve never met. I have an important message for you.” The man sounded out of breath, frightened.

  “Are you alone?”

  “Yes, quite alone, I assure you.”

  Finally, Dylan opened the door just wide enough to reveal the man standing in the hallway. He was short and compact, his thick, side-swept hair greying. “What the hell do you have to say to me?”

  “My name is Thad Gorski. I speak for the jinn god, Natrik.” His words were clipped and precise, as though they had been pre-rehearsed.

  “I’ve never heard of a god called Natrik.” Dylan opened the door wider and stepped into the hall, eyes blazing as he stood over the smaller man. “Your message had better be good. Otherwise, it may prove very unfortunate for you to be knocking at the door of a hungry vampire.”