by Bonnie Lamer
Zane’s eyebrows knit together. “They carved your name in some random dude?” he asks me. “That’s wicked insane. Your days are definitely numbered.” The amusement on his face is gone, replaced by pity and conviction. I liked the amused look much better.
“I am confident there are other options besides certain death,” Roman drawls after pulling the t-shirt over his head.
“Really?” Zane says with raised brows. “Name one.”
“Zane Alexander, you hush now,” Mrs. Gregori says. “No matter what she’s done, we aren’t going to let the djinn have a human. You know that.” I would argue again that I haven’t done anything but she said she’d keep me alive so I’m keeping my mouth shut. Turning to Brielle, she says, “What have you done so far?”
A sheepish expression falls over Brielle’s face. “Nothing that’s worked. I thought I lost them after we left the hospital, but they found us anyway and I had to take down the city house. I amped the sine wave so we could get out of there and even revamped the jeep, but somehow they found us again. That’s when the dead guy was practically thrown at us on the road. I shot the djinni who did it a few times, but he got away. I don’t think anyone followed us here, though.”
“You don’t think? Jesus, Brielle,” Zane says. He stands abruptly and strides towards the door. “I’ll do a sweep of the area.” I guess djinn hunting really is a family thing.
“What can I do to help?” Roman asks the room in general.
Zane shoots him a look over his shoulder. “You can stay out of our way.” With that, he leaves the room.
Chapter 20 – The Mark of the Djinn
The room is silent for several minutes after Zane leaves. Finally, Mrs. Gregori asks Brielle, “Did Malik give you any clue as to why this one is so special?”
Brielle shakes her head but says, “I think maybe he knows her. At least, that’s what she thinks.” She jabs her finger in my direction.
I run a hand through my snarly blonde hair, pushing it behind my shoulders. “I’m not sure about that. It’s just a feeling I have.”
Mrs. Gregori’s wrinkled face becomes even more wrinkled when she frowns at me. She’s starting to look like a Shar pei puppy. “Either you know him or you don’t.”
I sigh and put my head in my hands. Why won’t anyone believe me? I pick my head up and try to run my fingers through my hair again, tangling it even more. “I had a near drowning experience when I was sixteen. I don’t remember much before that.”
All she says in response is, “Hmm, interesting.” Turning to Brielle, she says, “Get on that computer of yours and see what you can wrangle out of Malik. Do a complete background check on these two as well.”
“You got it,” Brielle says, then stands and strides out the door.
“You two,” she says to Roman and me, “go find yourselves some rooms upstairs. Separate rooms,” she adds pointedly. “Go on, now. There is lots of work to be done and I don’t want you two in the way.”
Okay, I guess we’re supposed to wander around upstairs until we find rooms that look empty. Roman and I stand at the same time. “Thank you for allowing us to stay,” Roman says.
As we move to the door, Mrs. Gregori humphs in response as her motorized wheelchair takes her to a bookshelf in the far corner of the room. I look over my shoulder to see her running her fingers along the scuffed leather bindings of the books on the second shelf, apparently searching for a specific book. All of the books on it have to be quite old. No one has bound books in leather in a very long time.
Roman and I forego the stairs for the elevator. The day’s activities are catching up to me again and I don’t think I could have managed trudging up all those stairs. We decide to try the second floor first. The elevator doors open and we exit into an open sitting room with a large window directly across from us and several comfy, overstuffed chairs in rich earthy hues. I’m tempted to plop down on one of those and call it good, but the thought of lying on a soft bed keeps me moving toward the left wing.
There are at least ten doors off of this wing alone. We open the first two doors on the left side of the hall, and both appear to be guestrooms. Each room has a private bathroom and a large bed. I’m in heaven. I walk into the first room and declare it mine. “I like this one, it’s the closest to the elevator,” I say to Roman.
He leans casually against the doorjamb with his arms crossed. “Are you going to be okay in here on your own? I can always stay in here with you,” he says. Subtle.
I nod with a half-smile on my lips. “I’ll be fine.”
Disappointment clouds his eyes briefly. “Alright, I’ll take the room next door. Holler if you need anything.”
“I will.” I move to the door and put my hand on it, indicating that I’d like to close it. Roman takes the hint. He kisses my cheek softly and then leaves.
I’m still not a hundred percent sure about him. My skin is tingling where his lips touched me, but I can’t shake my feelings that there’s more to him than I think there is. I’m going to worry about that tomorrow though.
I go into the bathroom to take a quick shower and ready for bed. This is the first time I’ve had a chance to really take in the extent of my injuries. I expect to look like a swollen mess, but the only sign of dermal damage on my face is a slight rash. My left arm is a little worse for wear, but it’s healing nicely. Roman’s right. This is strange.
Since I don’t have anything to sleep in, I’m going to have to sleep in the buff. Wrapping myself in the towel I used to dry off, to be discarded when I crawl in bed, I open the bathroom door. I’m startled to find Zane sitting on the end of the bed looking through an old book. He whistles softly when he sees me.
“Damn,” he says, checking me out from head to toe again.
“Why are you in here?” I huff and look down to make sure all my important bits are covered.
“I came to ask you a couple of questions. But seeing you like that has made them slip right out of my mind.”
“Then can you ask me in the morning? I’m really tired.” I walk to the bed and pull back the covers to prove my point.
“Do you always sleep in the nude?” he asks without making any move to leave. “That’s hot.”
I give him a sour look. “No, I don’t have any clothes.”
He chuckles. “I’ll be right back.” He gets up and walks out of the room. I take the opportunity to slide under the covers because I believe him about coming right back.
True to his word, he comes back into the room a minute later with a dark blue t-shirt and a pair of gray exercise shorts. “Here,” he says, tossing them on the bed. “Get dressed so I can ask you some questions without you freaking out about being naked.”
I’m shocked. He’s actually a nice guy under the thick layer of obnoxiousness he wears. He turns around and starts flipping through pages of the book in his hands. Okay, I guess he’s not going to leave the room while I get dressed. Assuming this is the best I’m going to get from him, I scurry to put the t-short and shorts on, trying not to expose myself in the process in case he turns back around.
“I’m dressed. You can turn around now.” I’ve propped myself up against the pillows and headboard.
Instead of sitting at the end of the bed where he was, he comes around and sits next to me. At least he didn’t try to crawl under the covers. “Grams said you don’t remember anything before your drowning incident,” he says.
I nod. “That’s correct. I might have snippets here or there, but I’ve had to rely on pictures and stories from my parents about my life before that.”
“Have you considered the fact that they could have lied to you?” Zane asks.
I push at him. “Get off the bed. And no, I’ve never doubted my parents. They were the kindest, most loving and understanding parents in the world. They never would have lied to me about anything.”
“Even if they were trying to protect you?” he asks, not making any sort of move to get off the bed.
“No,” I sna
p. “They valued honesty above all else.”
Zane gives me a wry grin. “How noble of them.”
“Did you come here to insult my parents or did you have a point?”
His chocolate brown eyes sparkle with amusement. “I can think of a lot of reasons to come to your bedroom. Shall we move on to one of those instead of talking about your parents?”
“You’re a pig. Weren’t you just leaving?”
He chuckles. “No, I’m pretty comfortable right here. Besides, Grams would beat me if I didn’t come back with answers.”
I doubt the feeble old woman in the wheelchair would ever lay a hand on either of her grandchildren, regardless of how often she threatens it. So obviously he’s just kidding, but it’s surprising how close he and Brielle are to the woman they have known for such a short time. It’s touching really. “Then ask your questions so I can go to sleep. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m recovering from an accident.”
“Recovering nicely,” he says with an exaggerated leer at my breasts. I punch him in the arm. He just chuckles again.
“Do you actually have questions?”
“Fine. If you don’t want to have fun, yes, I have questions. Grams wants to know where you got your mark.”
I’m confused. “What?”
“The mark on your neck. Where did you get it?”
I feel my neck wondering if I missed an injury from the accident. I don’t feel anything unusual. Oh, I know what he’s talking about. “You mean my birthmark?” I have an odd shaped birthmark on my neck. It sort of looks like flames. “Do you mean this?” I push my hair back to expose the birthmark.
Zane flips open the book to a certain page he has bookmarked and shows it to me. There is an exact replica of my birthmark on the page. How can that be? Below the image is a description of it. It’s the mark of the djinn. This is how they mark their enemies when they are captured. I look up at Zane with eyes like saucers. “That’s impossible. It’s just a birthmark.”
He reaches up and gently runs a finger along the mark, sending shivers down my spine. It can’t be a mark of the djinn. My parents would have told me that. They wouldn’t have lied and said it was a birthmark. Unless they didn’t know. No, this is too crazy.
Reading my mind, Zane says, “You’ve been marked, Skye. You are considered an enemy of the djinn.”
His hand is still lingering on my neck. I push him away. “This is ridiculous. It’s just a coincidence. I’m sure lots of people have birthmarks like mine.”
He shakes his head. “I’m beginning to see why you annoy Brielle so much.”
“Gee, thanks,” I say and I whip the covers back. I get out of the bed and stomp to the door. Holding it open, I say, “Leave. Now.”
Zane takes his time getting off the bed and making his way to the door. When he’s standing directly in front of me, he leans down as if to kiss me and I stiffen. But he doesn’t kiss me. He pushes my hair back over my shoulder and he kisses the mark, gently gliding his tongue across it. A bolt of lightning shoots to my core and my knees give out. I would have crumpled to the floor if Zane hadn’t grabbed me and held me upright. What the hell.
He leans back with a smug grin. “That’s how you can tell it’s not a birthmark,” he says.
My neck has always been sensitive when I’ve been with men, but I don’t remember being affected like this. Then again, I haven’t dated a whole lot, either. Yet another thing I haven’t had time for.
“Skye, what’s going on?” Roman asks, startling me.
I turn to face him and his fiercely jealous eyes are jumping back and forth between me and Zane. Zane turns his smug face towards him. “Just proving a point,” he says and then winks at me.
I push at his chest to make him step back. Jerk. Turning to Roman, I say, “Zane’s trying to convince me that my birthmark is actually a mark I was given by the djinn.”
“Of course he is,” Roman says curtly.
“Try it for yourself,” Zane says, stepping back and pointing at my neck.
“Nobody is touching my neck,” I growl at them both. “Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I’m tired and want to go to sleep.” I walk back to the bed and am about to climb in when I remember what Roman, Zane and his family are doing for me. Technically, Zane was just trying to prove a point. And he succeeded. Whether I want to admit it or not.
I turn back around where both men are still standing in the open doorway, the tension between them reaching dangerous levels. “Zane, Roman, I’m sorry I snapped at you both. Thank you for helping me.”
Brielle’s voice bellows from below. “Zane, get your ass back down here. We have work to do!”
With a final grin in my direction, he turns and ambles towards the stairs. That just leaves Roman to deal with. The look on his face tells me he’s not going to just amble away.
Chapter 21 - Blackness
“Have you truly been marked by the djinn?” Roman asks, coming into the room and closing the door. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that. Zane is pushy, especially for someone I just met an hour ago, but at least he kept the door open.
“I – I don’t know.” I stumble over the words, knowing the truth but not ready to say it out loud.
“Why is he sure that you have?” Roman asks, referring to Zane.
I don’t want to tell him, but he deserves to know what we’re up against. I force the words over my tongue and through my lips. They taste like burnt salmon. “Because the birthmark is more…sensitive than it should be.” I don’t think I have to share exactly how it felt when Zane kissed it.
“May I look at it?” Roman asks, moving closer.
My hand moves to cover the unwanted mark. “I don’t think that’s necessary. It’s not hurting me. I’ve had it as long as I can remember and it has never bothered me.”
Roman brushes my hair back over my shoulder and puts his hand on mine. “I’m not asking as your doctor,” he says, gently moving my hand aside.
What does that mean? Does he think he’s more than my doctor now? I have to admit, being this close to him is making my body react. His musky, masculine scent fills my nostrils as I take in a shaky breath. His damp hair is perfectly combed into place; he must have showered too. It’s hard to deny my attraction to him, regardless of voices in the fog warning me against it. For all I know, it’s a ploy by the djinn to keep me away from anyone who wants to keep me safe. Roman’s kind, brave, and sexy as hell. Why am I even trying to resist him? I lean forward, wanting to kiss him.
As his lips move towards mine, Roman’s fingers slide over the mark and a strange sensation rushes through me. Not a pleasurable one this time. Pain shoots through my body as if the mark truly is made of fire. I scream and crumple to the ground, too fast for Roman to catch me. Blackness engulfs me as I lose consciousness, the pain too much to tolerate.
I’m not sure how long I’m out but I do know I’m getting tired of waking up to Roman’s fingers prying my eyelids open. I swat at his hand. “Stop it,” I grumble.
“She appears to be fine,” Mrs. Gregori’s raspy voice says. “Move back and give her some air.”
I’m surprised to see everyone surrounding my bed. “What happened?” I ask, my voice sounding weak.
Without preamble, Mrs. Gregori asks me, “Have you ever passed out like that before?”
I shake my head slightly. “Not that I know of.”
“Brielle said you were pulled into some fog earlier that no one else could see. Has that ever happened before?”
I shake my head again. “Only the two times in the car. Why?”
Abruptly, she turns her wheelchair around, causing Roman to jump out of the way or get hit in the shins. Without looking back, she says, “Everyone out so she can get some rest. Zane, come with me.”
“Coming, Grams,” Zane says. Before he turns to go, he asks, “Do you need anything?”
I have to stop shaking my head. I have a pounding headache and it’s not helping. He starts to leave, but I say, “Unless you
have some ibuprofen or something. My head would greatly appreciate it.” Surprisingly, the rest of my body isn’t painful at all. Just my head now.
“Sure thing,” he says. “Brielle, why don’t you get your guest something for her head?”
“Why don’t you bite me,” Brielle retorts, crossing her arms over her chest.
Zane looks at her and sighs in mock pity, “Such hostility, little sis. You really should see someone about that.”
“Zane!” Mrs. Gregori’s voice bellows from down the hall.
Zane rolls his eyes, but he’s not going to make his grandmother wait. “Brielle?”