01 Summoned-Summoned (30 page)

It's a cyclic beast. So I slide into my car and head for Santa Fe.

I want to call Syd to explain to her what happened. And what will continue to happen. I can't imagine what I would say though. That not fulfilling a wish drives me to the edge, pushes me over, and watches me tumble into madness? That I can only find reprieve if I obey?

She had told me the jinn were their own race, with both good and bad, but eventually they were considered demons. Maybe this is why. Maybe humans saw them—us—snap. What else could they possibly conclude after witnessing something like that?

Syd probably thinks I'm greatly in need of an exorcist now too. But I'm not possessed. No demon actually lives in my body. Just a genie bond in my blood.

My legs cramp again. Sweat is sliding down my face. I'm going to be right back to where I was before the hunt in a much shorter time. Something about my revulsion for what I have to do is encouraging the hum to push me harder. Break me faster.

I'm going to do everything I can to help Syd, though.

A jolt runs straight through the top of my head and down my spine. I twitch, head jerking.

I don't care. Despite how close I came to catching her earlier, I can't believe I would have actually killed her. I certainly believed at that time I would. Otherwise, the hum wouldn't have backed off. But when it came down to it, would I be able to look her in the face and watch the spark flicker and die?

I cared too much about that spark. She was my rockstar.

Still is, even if I can never have her again.

The jolt hits hard. I shudder, then clamp my jaw and settle in for a long trip. The thoughts aren't going to stop, and I don't want to control them anyway. Each time the hum sends me twitching and jerking with punishment, I'm more determined it will not win.

I will tip Syd off at every chance I get.

A bolt of electricity lights up every nerve in my body. I rock in my seat.

Maybe I can survive this until Karl has a more pressing matter. He can't send me on two wishes at once, can he? God, I hope not.

Eventually, he will need me to whack another businessman or scientist. Hell, maybe he will decide to finish off Patricia Kerr.

Then he will recant this wish. Syd will live.

I want Syd to live.

Another jolt. My teeth gnash. My head jerks then lolls forward. 

I force myself upright and try to focus on the road.

My vision goes in and out. This time light flashes among the darkness. I strain to see the road.

Less than an hour, and I will be in Santa Fe. I will be near Syd again. I just have to keep it together long enough to tell her I want to help her.

Another jolt. My leg jerks, slamming into the brake. I step on the gas again.

I don't know how I'm going to approach her. Not after what happened in Albuquerque. But I think she will see me. God, I hope she will see me under this twitching, sopping, dirty mess. 

The jolts come, one after the other, ripping through me. Singeing every pain receptor. Forcing a succession of twitching, shaking convulsions.

I taste metallic on my lips. I struggle against shuddering muscles to look in the rear view mirror. Blood is running down my face. From my nose. From my eyes. From my ears.

With great effort, I open my mouth. My teeth and tongue are coated in blood. I swallow hard, surprised I can swallow at all, and settle back into my seat.

I twitch with every jolt, but my foot stays planted on the gas pedal.

***

The Santa Fe city limits come into view. I grapple with one hand for the paper in the passenger seat and flip it open to read the address once more. Syd's hide out.

Maybe she changed course when she realized I was tracking her. I have no other leads, though. So I pull over to the curb, fish out my phone, and punch in the address.

I twitch and place the phone on my lap. Ten minutes. I will be in Syd's front lawn in ten minutes. A jolt racks down my spine. I try to hold my breath against it, but find I'm twisting in my seat. My arm shakes. 

I reach to put the car into drive, but my hand won't close. I grit my teeth and shove, hard. The car shifts into gear. 

My vision wanes. More flashes of light. I struggle to see as I inch the car along. 

Another jolt. I growl and pound my fist into the side of the door. The thuds are weak. Before the electrical burn subsides, another one follows. It's like something corrosive is poured into my veins along with it.

Everything flares, from the muscles in my arms to each little organ in my abdomen. I gasp while trying to find the gas pedal again. I need to keep moving.

The next jolt rides through my bones. Even my teeth hurt. 

If the hum has anything else up its sleeve, I don't want to know. I can't wrap my mind around what could be worse. 

Twisting and twitching, I force the car back onto the road and try to keep in the right lane. I push through every jolt, barely swerving despite the jerking of my hands.

Then the phone GPS says, “Your destination will be on your right.”

My foot hits the brake. I throw myself back in the seat, panting. 

I'm here.

With an agony that makes me want to curl up and never move again, I step out of the car. I stumble my way to a tall bush on the other side of the street and drop to my knees because I have no strength to crouch. Another jerk. Then I lean forward and squint to clear my vision.

The black and red Audi pulls into the driveway. 

She went back and got the car before leaving Santa Fe. That's my Syd.

Another jolt forged by Zeus himself. Goddammit.  

She bursts out of the car and jogs around to the side of the house. I lick my cracked lips, though it doesn't do anything. My body is drying up.

I need to find a way to approach her. Do I break in and make her listen? 

I'm afraid to use force, though. It will be too easy to slip. Too easy to forget I'm here on my own agenda.

I expect the next jolt, but it doesn't make it any less agonizing. 

Syd reappears from around the house. She slides back into the Audi and speeds away.

As soon as she's out of sight, I'm in the Corolla and heading right behind. I don't have a plan. I just can't lose track of her.

I round the corner. The Audi pulls into a small parking lot on the other side of the street, near the end of the block. I park and step out. I try to keep my head down as I walk, but my neck jerks. I grit my teeth and fight back the twitch in my arm.

She crosses the parking lot and approaches a small building. I pick up my pace. She unlocks the front door and disappears inside.

I break into a run, somehow, heading for the store. The urge is growing. Her beautiful face, lifeless. This madness, over.

The pretty girl always dies in the horror movies. And if my life hasn't become a horror movie, I don't know what is.

No more heartache for Syd. She was always so sad. I saw it in her eyes, but never asked. I should have, though. I would have known about Zoe. I would have known this was coming.

Now it's too late.

I have to kill Syd. There's no other way out for either of us.

I dart across the street, bring up my arms, and lunge. Glass shatters around me, slicing my hands. My soles slip on the shards, but I catch my balance.

My head snaps up. I blink a few times.

Syd is staring at me. She's just standing a few feet in front of me. Staring.

I sweep my gaze over the room. We're in a restaurant lobby. Her grandmother's restaurant. It hasn't been abandoned: there are fresh pies in the case to my right, displayed with gleaming fruits. But the restaurant is empty.

Just me and Syd.

My head jerks, my arm twitches. I can't make this stop. I can't make any of this stop.

“Dimitri,” she says on a breath. Her eyes shimmer with tears, and she puts a hand to her mouth. “What did they do to you?”

I swallow, but it's just a motion. No moisture. Can't speak. Otherwise, I would tell her to run.

Another round of jolts.

She makes a small sobbing noise. 

“It was you . . .  I had no idea . . . You aren't what we thought you would be,” she says, gesturing her hand over me. “We expected you would be . . . broad. Tan. Powerful. But . . . ”

I don't reply. I can't.

She bites her lips together, her gaze traveling up and down me. “How can they make you live like this?”

Her tears break free, dripping in rapid succession off her jaw. 

“I'm so sorry, Dimitri,” she says, and she means it. I can hear it in her voice. But all I can do is twitch and clench my fist against the warring urges to pull her close or pull her apart.

She takes a shuddering breath and drops her arm to her side. 

“I know what you want,” she says. “I know what you have to do. That's the only way it's going to stop. So . . . I'm not going to fight. We dedicated our life to the jinn. To you. I won't . . . I won't . . . ”

Even in my convoluted, jolt-racking mind, I understand her:

Her family searched for me, and now they have found me. She won't let me die even though I want to kill her.

I wish I could explain to her that I didn't come here to hurt her. That if she stays, I will have to, but it's not what I want.

I should have told her what she meant to me. If I had told her, then she would know, standing now before a convulsing, bloody monster, that I would never choose to harm her. She would know that I need her.

I came to her for help.

But I can't speak. I try, but the only sound that comes out is a low growl. 

She steels for impact.

Another jolt. My brain shakes this time. My vision wanes. 

If only she knew . . . 

I turn and swing, shattering the glass case at my side. My fingers clutch something. I can't see as I hold up my hand.

There is silence.

My sight clears.

My eyes lower to my hand.

I'm holding an apple. A golden apple.

I look at Syd. My Aphrodite.

Realization settles on her face. She cries harder, but dares to reach forward. I don't move, don't even breathe, as she plucks it from my fingers.

She cups the bloodstained apple in her hands, studying it. Then her gaze raises to me, and I know she can see me beyond the monster.

Even though she is still crying, her voice is steady and determined: “I'm going back to Phoenix, Dim. I'm making Karl take back his wish.”

I can't get out of the car until I reach Phoenix. If I do, I will not get back in. I'll just lie on the ground and succumb. Either the bleeding from my head will finish me, or the dehydration will. Yet somehow I don't believe the hum will let me off that easily. I'm not sure it's going to let me off at all.

But Syd seems to think she can find a way out. Maybe she has dirt on Karl. Maybe that's why he wanted her dead, and not just a sadistic power trip over me.

I don't understand who anyone is anymore. Everything has unraveled. My brain being slowly electrocuted can't tie the ends together.

So I just keep driving.

***

I pass over the New Mexico-Arizona border. Before long, I'm back in the trees. I don't let up on the gas as the forest resigns to desert. Then the lights of Phoenix are ahead, glowing against the dusk. The sight that always brought a sense of home is now just another stop. I don't want to be here anymore.

At least my jerky-twitchy driving won't stand out.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I try to work the phone out, but it slips to the floorboard. I lean forward, head against the steering wheel, and feel around for it. With a groan, I throw myself back in the seat and bring it to my ear.

Everything takes so much effort. 

“Dimitri, can you hear me?”

It's Syd.

She's insane. I love that about her.

“Look, you have to listen closely.” Her voice sounds tight. “Karl is sending someone else besides you. My dad . . . ” She takes a deep breath. “He . . . and my brother . . . they're both . . . dead.”

I give a small cough. It's the only noise I can manage that doesn't sound like I want to rip out her throat.

She continues, “My dad had this . . . thing . . . in his neck. Like a spiked spearhead. It's so bizarre, Dim. I can't stay here. I'm afraid Karl is . . . Karl is going to send someone for me. Besides you. I'm going to Uncle Larry's house.”

I think I have questions for her, but I can't formulate them in my head, let alone ask. I just hope she gives me all the information I need. 

“I suspect Uncle Larry will want to get out of Dodge. He's been considering it since his San Diego lab was blown up, but I'll let you know where we are. Probably one of his labs in Vegas or L.A. Keep your phone with you. You can still read, right?” She tries to laugh, but fear darkens it. Then she adds in a reassuring tone, “I'm still working on it. Don't give up yet, Dim.”

She goes silent, maybe contemplating the polite way to end a phone call with a monster. After a minute, she hangs up.

I drop the phone to the passenger seat. My arm aches. 

Uncle Larry is smart to run to Bat Country or farther. Karl is coming after them, and it's only going to get uglier. Uglier than when I blew up his anthropology lab in San Diego.