Marked (21 page)

I. Am. So. Tired.  We have been training all day, and I’m seriously thinking about telling Brielle and the rest of her family to just feed me to the djinn because I think that death would be faster than the one they’re inflicting on me.  Every muscle in my body aches.  I know there are two hundred and six bones in the human body, but I don’t remember how many muscles we have.  I’m thinking too many at the moment.  I hurt in places I never hurt before.  I also have a black eye.  Brielle said it was an accident, but I don’t believe it.

I’m finally in my bathroom taking a hot shower, just standing in the cascading water thinking about everything I’ve learned over the last several hours.  They taught me every dirty trick to fighting there is.  What I lack in size, I’m supposed to make up for in speed and underhandedness.  I’m seriously deficient in both categories.  That’s okay, though.  I’m promised another training session tomorrow.  A longer one.  Yippee.

Reluctantly, I turn off the soothing hot water and step out of the shower to dry myself with a soft, clean bath towel.  I take the time to brush and blow dry my hair, partly because the heat feels good and partly because I want to make sure all the snarls from the day’s exercises are out.  I learned quickly that long hair is not good to have in a fight, but I’m not ready to part with it quite yet.  I’ll throw it up in a bun or ponytail tomorrow.

I slowly stroll out into the bedroom and smile when I see a pile of brand new clothes sitting on the bed; there’s a couple pairs of jeans, some t-shirts, bras and a few pairs of panties along with several sets of pajamas.  Mrs. Gregori sent Zane out earlier to buy me some things of my own.  He was thrilled to have to pick out women’s underwear.  I chuckle as I think of him in the lingerie department looking at bra sizes.

Dropping my towel to the floor, I pick up a pair of pretty blue panties with tiny little bows on them, and freeze when my door opens.  Roman is now standing there, raw desire in his eyes as he studies my naked form.

“Um, don’t you knock?” I ask, frantically retrieving my towel from the floor.

He doesn’t have a chance to answer because Zane pops his head in the room, too.  He lets out a low whistle.  I think he was going to harass Roman for being in my room, but his mind has found another thing to focus on.  My naked body. 

Tucking the towel around me, it doesn’t escape my mind that neither of them are respecting my privacy.  They’re just standing there like I’m putting on a show for them.  “Do you think you guys could come back later?” I ask dryly.

“What’s going on?” Brielle asks from behind her brother.  She peeks her head around him.

“Apparently, watching me get dressed is tonight’s entertainment,” I say, acid dripping from my mouth.  Both men have the decency to finally be embarrassed.

“My god, I’m going to have to put a dead bolt on this door,” Brielle gripes.  She grabs Zane by the shirt and Roman by the arm.  “Show’s over boys.  Next time, drill a peephole in the wall.  Then it wouldn’t be so obvious when you’re getting your rocks off.”

My turn to blush.  “Thanks,” I say to Brielle when the guys are finally gone. 

“You might want to keep this door locked,” she says wryly.  “They’re acting like you’re the centerfold of the month.”

“They’re making me feel that way.  Is your brother always like this?”

She shakes her head.  “Honestly, no.  He’s all talk, but very little action.  I can’t even remember the last time he was on a date.  Probably before Grams moved in.”

That makes him one horny guy, I bet.  “So, I’m like an oasis to a thirsty camel, huh?”

She laughs.  “Right.”

I roll my eyes.  “After that workout you guys put me through, I don’t think I could work up the energy for sex.”

“It gets easier,” she reassures me.  “In a good two to three months, you won’t even get sore anymore.”

I look at her to see if she’s teasing me.  I think she is.  “It’s probably going to take four for me.”

“Get dressed and I’ll go get the whiskey.  That’ll help loosen you up.”

I nod and she closes the door behind her.  I grab my underwear and new green, satin pajamas and bring them into the bathroom.  I’m not in the mood for an encore performance. 

When I’m dressed, I pad barefoot out of my room and find Brielle in the sitting area with a bottle and two glasses.  “Sit down,” she says, pouring the whiskey.  I sit down on the overstuffed couch next to her.  She hands me a glass and holds hers up, “To our totally fucked up lives.”

“I’ll drink to that.”  I click my glass against hers and drink.  The slow, hot burn down my throat is just what I needed.  Curling my legs up under me, I make myself comfortable.  “What keeps you going?” I ask Brielle.  “How can you put your life on the line like you do and not be terrified to walk out of your house?”  She gives me her trademark shrug and I notice her cheeks are getting pink.  I wonder if she had a glass or two while she was waiting for me. 

“I guess I don’t know how to stop.  Sometimes, after a particularly rough hunt, I wonder what the hell I’m doing, but then I think of my parents, or people like you, who end up on the djinn shit list without even knowing they exist.”  Her glass is empty already so she reaches for the bottle on the small table in front of the couch.  She pours more whiskey in both of our glasses.

We sit in silence for a few minutes and I relish the warmth of the whiskey flowing through me.  After a few sips, I hardly feel my muscle aches anymore.

Brielle is the first to break the silence.  “Did I tell you how the lower djinn get their human form?” she asks.  

“No.  Do I really want to know?” I’m guessing not.

“Probably not, but I’m going to tell you anyway.  Since the lower djinn don’t have a human form, they have to steal one.”

“What?”  I take another sip of my whiskey.  It doesn’t even burn anymore.

“It’s some weird djinn magic thing.  They pick out a human they want to be, and they kill that person which somehow makes them able to take on that human form.  I don’t know how the hell it works.  Malik tried to explain it once, but it was way over my head.”

I think about the human forms of the djinns I’ve seen.  “Those guys at the hospital chose to look like that?” 

Brielle nods.  “Yeah, they did.  They try to find the scariest, most intimidating people they can.”

“And then they kill them.” 

She nods again.  Watching her head move up and down is sort of making me dizzy.  Maybe I’ve had enough whiskey.  I’m pretty much a lightweight when it comes to alcohol.  “Yup, then they kill ‘em.”

“Assholes.  They’ve been doing this all along; since humans were created?”  My words are starting to sound a little slurred.

“Yup.”  She raises her glass in the air.  “To sending all the assholes behind the veil.” 

I raise my glass to hers.  “To sending all the assholes behind the veil.”  Shit.  My brain just kicked in and I’m suddenly horrified.  “Does that mean that someone died so I could have this bottle…I mean body?”  I’ve been sipping regularly at my whiskey while we’ve been talking and I’m already getting drunk.

Brielle shakes her head.  “No, you’re the type of djinni that has human form of your own.”  She points her glass at me and a little whiskey sloshes out.  “That awesome body you have is all yours, sister.”

That’s a relief.  “I’m drunk.”

“Quit being such a pansy,” Brielle says as she pours more whiskey in my glass. 

“I haven’t been drunk since I was an undergrad,” I say as I take another drink.

“Me either.”

“You went to college?”  Even in my drunken state, I know how rude that sounded.  Color rushes to my cheeks when Brielle gives me a sour look.  “I mean, you look too young.  You can’t be much past eighteen.”

She laughs.  “I’m twenty-two.  I just age well.”

“Is this a private drinking party?” Roman asks from behind me and I practically jump out of my chair.

“Son of a bitch, don’t scare me like that.”

“Come join us, Doc.”  Brielle waves him towards an empty chair.  “I guess if you’re going to be sticking around, we all have to make nice.  Besides, you’re too cute to hate.”  She stands up and goes to a minibar to grab another glass.  I marvel at her ability to walk without wobbling.  I’m pretty sure I’d wobble at the moment.

She puts some whiskey in his glass and hands it to him.  “I’d offer you a beer, but we don’t have any.  Just whiskey.  It’s the good stuff, though.”

Roman smiles.  “Whiskey is fine.”  He looks the two of us over.  “I take it I have some catching up to do.”

“Nah, we’re fine,” I say.  I’m not very convincing and Brielle laughs at my inability to speak without slurring.

“So, Doc, tell us all about yourself,” Brielle says.  “How did you decide to be a doctor?”

Roman adjusts himself in his chair to get more comfortable.  He takes a big swallow of whiskey and says, “I was pretty sick when I was young.  I spent a lot of time in the hospital and decided I wanted to help people the way the doctors helped me,” he says.

“What did you have?” I ask.  “Or is that too personal?”

He shakes his head.  “You can ask me whatever you want.  I have nothing to hide.  I have a rare blood disorder.”  He stops and smiles.  “I guess it might not be as rare as I thought, considering.”

Considering he’s not human.  I don’t want to go there at the moment.  “Where’d you go to med school?”

“Harvard.”  Of course he did.  “I was there on a partial scholarship.  I worked at a few places to supplement the rest.”

“That must have sucked,” I say, thinking about how expensive my schooling is.  What I inherited from my parents pays the tuition bills and buys my books.  I can’t imagine having to work several jobs on top of med school.  One is bad enough.

Roman shrugs.  “I made it through alright.”

“Hey, Doc,” Brielle says, “Do you know what they call the guy who finished lowest in his med school class?”

He shakes his head.  “No.”

“Doctor,” she says and I can’t help but laugh at her stupid joke.  The sad thing is, it’s true.

I yawn loudly and stretch my sore arms over my head.  “I’m beat.  I need to go to bed.”

Brielle raises a brow.  “Do you know how early it is?”

“That’s okay.  I feel like I could sleep a whole day.”  I stand up and stumble, figuring out quickly that I’m not very stable on my feet.  I sit back down in a hurry.  “Whoa.”