djinn wars 04 - broken (16 page)

“Of course.”

“Anyway, we’ll send someone out and let you know. I’m sure it’s nothing.” Even as he said the words, however, Shawn didn’t sound very confident of that fact.

“Thank you. And if you need us to go out and look — ”

“Thanks for the offer, Zahrias, but we’re okay. They’re our people.”

“Of course,” Zahrias said again. He didn’t quite like the unspoken subtext in Shawn Gutierrez’s words, that the party had been comprised of people from Los Alamos, and therefore not any concern of the djinn and their Chosen in Santa Fe. But he knew that protesting further would most likely just make Shawn dig his heels in that much more. Better to let his search party do their work. If they located Julia and her group, then the problem was solved. And if not —

If not, he’d have to pray that they weren’t too late to find out what had really happened to them.

Despite Qadim’s reassurances that she would be left alone, Julia hesitated for a long time, staring down at the water in the sunken bathtub with its surround of slate tiles. Wisps of steam curled up from the bath, seeming to beckon her in.

Oh, the hell with it. She’d taken the chair from the vanity area of the bathroom and wedged it up under the doorknob, so even if Margolis got any funny ideas, he wouldn’t be able to get very far. And she ached in every limb. Soaking in the bath would help.

Well, it might help with the various pains in her body. She doubted it would do much to soothe the dull, throbbing hurt in her heart.

Mouth set, she bent down and untied the laces on her hiking boots, then pulled them off, along with her socks. Next were her jacket and her jeans, then her T-shirt. She paused for a long moment, and finally unhooked her bra and slipped out of her panties. Since she didn’t have anything else to change into, she’d have to put them back on, but at least her body would be clean.

Sort of.

She lowered herself into the water, clenching her teeth as the heat of the water shocked against her bare flesh. In a moment, though, she became acclimated enough that she could relax, could let the warmth surrounding her work with her instead of against her.

There were bottles of shampoo and conditioner and body wash sitting on the ledge next to the tub. All high-end stuff, too, based on the labels. Julia wondered whose house this had been, whether they had lived here full-time or whether the property was simply a vacation getaway. There were lots of places like that tucked in and around Santa Fe, toys of rich people to be lived in for a few weeks out of the year and then ignored.

Well, whoever had owned the house was now long gone. Why Qadim had decided to use this place as his hideaway, Julia had no idea, except that it wasn’t visible from the road, but still fairly close to the ambush site. And it was large; she didn’t have a clear idea of the scope of the place, since she’d only seen a few rooms, but she guessed it had to be upwards of four thousand square feet. Way above her pay grade in her former life. She thought about the condo she’d scrimped and saved to buy, and which her ex-fiancé had cajoled her into selling. Two bedrooms, one bath, barely a thousand square feet. The whole thing would have fit into the kitchen/family room combo in this place.

Which was only a way of attempting to distract herself from the reality of her situation, that she was merely here to lure Zahrias out so Qadim could kill him. No, the big djinn hadn’t said as much, but she could read between the lines. What bad blood in their past had brought them to this point? Certainly she’d never heard Zahrias mention Qadim, but why would he? They hadn’t discussed very much that was personal, and Zahrias had a long, long history behind him. This current plot could be based on a slight that had occurred centuries earlier.

She had to think of some way to get out of here, to get away before Qadim could use her to bring Zahrias to his doom. But maybe she was selling him short. Yes, Qadim was big, the biggest djinn she’d yet seen, but bigger didn’t always mean more skilled. Surely Zahrias was in charge of Santa Fe at least partially because he knew how to take care of himself and the people he had sworn to serve. But if Qadim got the drop on him….

Scowling, she rinsed the shampoo from her hair, then worked in a good dollop of the conditioner. Just another distraction, something to concentrate on rather than the echo of Nancy’s scream against the concrete walls of the underpass, the ear-piercing sounds of Margolis’ pistol firing again and again. Had he gotten some perverse pleasure out of killing Brent and Nancy and Eric, or had he not even given them that much thought, only seeing them as obstacles that stood between him and the woman he desired?

Despite the hot bath water, Julia shivered. She was taking too long. At any minute, he could be at the door, knocking on it, talking to her through it while imagining her naked in the bath.

God.
She rinsed out the conditioner, then grabbed a towel from the rack next to the bathtub. Working quickly, she dried herself off and wrapped a second towel around her hair. As she paused to send a nervous glance in the direction of the door, a chill went down her spine.

Her duffle bag was sitting on the seat of the chair she’d tucked up under the doorknob.

The last she’d seen it, that bag had been stowed in the cargo area of the Suburban. And she knew Margolis hadn’t brought it with them, because he’d marched her straight to his pickup truck and driven away.

Which meant that Qadim must have retrieved it, then blinked it into the bathroom while she was bathing.

Better than him marching in with it, but even so, Julia couldn’t help feeling violated. After all, he could have left the duffle in the bedroom that was attached to the bath. The djinn had already informed her she would be sleeping in that room tonight.

No, he probably enjoyed having the duffle show up in here because it would send her off-balance, make her start to wonder if he could somehow see through the door or the walls, see her naked body….

Stop it,
she told herself.
He wants you to torture yourself. So don’t.

Mouth pressed into a grim line, she retrieved the duffle and set it on top of the long tiled counter that stretched across one entire wall of the bathroom. Right then she should just be glad that she’d packed extra underwear and another set of clean clothes. She wouldn’t have to change into her dirty and rumpled clothing after all.

She pulled on panties and a bra, then slipped into the jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt she had folded at the bottom of the duffle. All her toiletries were there, too — deodorant and toothpaste and moisturizer.

There was a blow dryer in one of the bathroom drawers. The house clearly had electricity, so she could dry her hair if she wanted to. But should she waste time on that lengthy process? Then again, her hair would take forever to air-dry. She couldn’t guarantee that it wouldn’t still be damp by the time she went to bed; outside the window, the world was dim and dusky, the sunset come and gone while she was in the bath.

Incongruously, her stomach growled. It didn’t seem to care that she had lost three friends that afternoon, or that she was locked in an isolated country house with a madman and a scheming djinn. Qadim hadn’t said anything about feeding her dinner, but surely he must intend to, if his words about making sure she would be in decent shape to see Zahrias the next day were to be believed.

Grimly, she plugged in the blow dryer and then went to work on her hair. Since it reached nearly to her waist, the process took a while. The entire time, she tried to analyze what she had seen of the house so far, if there was any chance to get away without either Margolis or Qadim noticing. This bathroom and its connected bedroom were on the second floor, and faced away from the road. The bathroom window was tiny, and she knew she’d never fit through it. But maybe the bedroom?

Julia finished with her hair and put the dryer back in the drawer where she’d found it. Afterward, she went to the door and pulled the chair out from under the knob, then headed into the bedroom. Yes, it had French doors that opened onto a balcony. She went to them at once and jiggled on the handles. Locked. Of course.

She could break through the glass, but that would make so much noise that any chance of slipping away undetected would be ruined. Would the element of surprise be enough to help her get away? She’d be on foot, and Margolis had his truck. And she had no idea whether she’d be able to evade Qadim’s pursuit or not. Djinn seemed to know when mortals were around, or they wouldn’t have been able to so mercilessly hunt down those Immune who weren’t lucky enough to find sanctuary in Los Alamos.

“It is cold,” Qadim said from behind her. “You will not need to open those tonight.”

She whirled. The djinn stood just inside the doorway that opened onto the upstairs hall. In his hands he held a wad of gleaming golden fabric. As her gaze fell on it, he extended it to her.

“You will wear this for dinner.”

Again, a shiver ran down her spine. Ignoring it, she said, “I’m already dressed, thank you.”

“What you’re wearing is not suitable. You will wear this.”

Outright defiance didn’t sound like a very good idea at the moment. She stepped forward and took the fabric from him, but didn’t unfold it to see what it actually was. “I wasn’t aware there was a dress code.”

His heavy-lidded black eyes, overshadowed by his brows, seemed to narrow further. “You will meet me in the dining room in a quarter-hour. Don’t be late.” He turned and went out into the hallway, then closed the bedroom door behind him.

Wonderful. At this point, she had no idea as to what Qadim’s intentions toward her might be. Certainly during their conversation in the courtyard, he’d given no indication that he was interested in her personally, only in her usefulness in luring Zahrias here.

He isn’t interested,
she told herself.
He’s just messing with you. Showing who’s in control, playing little head games.

The thought actually reassured her somewhat. Not because she appreciated Qadim’s maneuvers, but better that than the alternative.

Repressing a shiver, she went to the door and engaged the lock, then finally unfolded the garment he had given her.

It was actually two pieces of clothing, a long fitted tunic with high slits up the sides, and billowy full trousers in a style that she’d seen both male and female djinn wear. The fabric was a supple silk woven in a subtle geometric pattern in shades of light and dark gold. Intricate beadwork surrounded the neckline and cuffs of the tunic.

The ensemble was actually breathtakingly beautiful, but Julia couldn’t take much pleasure in the thought of wearing it. Now, if Zahrias was the one to see her in these clothes, rather than Qadim or Margolis….

She pushed that thought aside, then hastily stripped off her T-shirt and jeans and climbed into the shimmering silken outfit. It fit her perfectly, hugging her curves. How Qadim had managed that feat, she wasn’t sure and probably didn’t want to know.

Something sparkled at her from the top of the dresser. She went toward it, and saw the sparkle had come from a pair of long, dangling earrings in heavy gold, set with what looked like diamonds. Was she supposed to wear those, too?

It sure seemed that way. Julia removed the small silver hoops she wore all the time, and put in the gold earrings instead. When she stared at her reflection in the mirror above the dresser, a vision in gold looked back at her. All gold, from her loose hair to the clothing she wore. Something about that image disturbed her, and she turned away quickly.

What she was supposed to put on her feet, she had no idea. The hiking boots she’d been wearing didn’t seem like a very good match for the fancy clothing she had on. Well, she supposed she could go barefoot; the house’s flooring was a combination of slate tile and wood, but rugs were scattered everywhere, so it should be all right. It wasn’t as if she’d have an opportunity to make a break for it, not with Qadim apparently breathing down her neck every time she turned around.

But when she opened the door to step into the hallway, she saw a pair of gold beaded slippers sitting immediately outside. Had the djinn forgotten to give them to her, or had he wanted her to find them separately, the way she had with the earrings?

Pondering Qadim’s thought processes was probably a fruitless endeavor. Julia stepped into the slippers and noted that they fit her just as well as the rest of the ensemble did. Well, at least she wouldn’t have to go barefoot. That was something.

She descended the stairs, fighting the sense of wrongness that seemed to surround her with every step. How could she be so calm when she should be running away, doing whatever she could to get out of here?

Because she knew she had no choice. The djinn were scary enough when they were being friendly. She had no chance of besting someone like Qadim. All she could do was go along and pray that somehow Zahrias would have the upper hand when he finally did confront his old enemy.

“My God.”

Margolis’ voice. Julia halted on the bottom step and saw that the commander was standing in the foyer, staring at her as if he’d never seen her before. Well, she supposed he hadn’t — not looking like this, anyway.

“I guess Qadim wanted me dressed for dinner,” she said, trying to sound casual. Margolis’ attention was never welcome, but now, in this silky getup that clung to her body and was more low-cut than anything she’d dared to wear in years, it almost seemed as if his hands were moving over her once again, even though he stood a good ten feet from her.

He frowned. “It looks that way. He didn’t say anything to me about it.”

Trouble in paradise. Maybe if she could get Qadim and Margolis quarreling with one another….

She shrugged. “I guess not. Which way is the dining room?”

The commander pointed to the hallway to his left. “First opening on the right.”

Not that she really needed the direction, because as soon as she began to turn, Qadim appeared in the corridor. “I am glad to see that you are punctual, Julia. That pleases me.”

The last thing she wanted was to please Qadim. However, his words seemed to annoy Margolis, which she found encouraging.