The Binding Stone (The Djinn Series) (13 page)

I
tense, ready for something, but Jered behaves in a most unexpected way. He
relaxes all over, flashing his own million-dollar grin back at his father. He
sets the doll down on the table and laughs.

“You
know, I was so worried about Mom, I didn’t even go back to the house to find
out. Of course I called 911, but I never went back to check. I just came
straight over here.”

“It’s
amazing how your mother barely survived, and you still look like you’ve just
stepped out of the shower.” Achan chuckles, but his eyes look sharp.

“I...I
just don’t remember. It all happened so fast.” Jered’s gaze darts to the side.

“You’re
in shock. It’s understandable. I’ll tell you what, I’ll make a few phone calls,
find out what’s going on. I’ll check on your mother’s status too. You go
upstairs, get settled in the guest room, it’s the farthest door to your right,
and then we’ll talk.”

“Okay,”
Jered nods, looking very tired and turns toward the steps.

“Oh,
and Jered. Don’t worry about a thing. We’re family. Family takes care of each
other.”

“Yeah.”
Jered forces a smile and, shoulders hunched, heads up the stairs.

The Beginning

t
appears we all felt the disturbance the night before. The others are quiet.
Hollow, like I have never seen them. Their legs dangle over the olive tree
branches like willows in the breeze. I suppose I look the same. Never before
have any of us felt pain like that.

“Perhaps
this existence is not for our kind after all,” says Taj. He will not meet our
eyes. Mira wears her silence like a mask.

“You
must stop being so negative,” I say, pulling at his hands until he stands. “It
is most unbecoming.”

“I
think perhaps I’m done with the pleasures of the flesh,” Taj says, stroking my
cheek.

“No!”
Mira shouts, eyes wild.

“Mira?”
I ask.

“We
cannot go back until we find her. I won’t leave Rhada.”

Taj
and I exchange looks, his bushy eyebrows furrowed low.

“Taj
isn’t serious, Mir. He could never give up on so much fun. Besides, I will not
leave Achan. Not even if you cross back over without me.” I pick through the
leaves until I spot an olive that looks just right and pluck it.

“Don’t
say that, Lee.” Taj’s gaze is intense. “We’re all connected. Leaving someone
behind would be like cutting off an arm.” He looks to Mira. “So no. We won’t go
without Rhada. I just don’t like this pain thing.”

I
nibble at the olive. I do not say what I think. That Rhada should have come
back like the rest of us after the pain. “Perhaps if we figured out what
happened?” I suggest instead. “Then we may avoid it in the future.”

“How?”
Mira asks.

“I
don’t know. But Achan is smart. I should ask him.”

“You
cannot!” Mira takes me by the shoulders, shaking me. She is clearly fragile
today. “You must not tell anyone about us, Lee. I mean it.”

“Fine,
then,” I say, discarding the olive. “Have it your way. I just hope for your
sake we can figure it out on our own.”

Secrets and Lies

ered
cries into his pillow with deep, sorrowful wails that come out only slightly
muffled. It is all I can do to stop from laying a hand on him. But if I do
he’ll know I’m here, watching, and I don’t want him to order me away. Not when
he needs me near. I don’t know which is the more pressing danger: Mira, Taj,
and their master, or his own father. I’m beginning to wish Gabe were here. At
least I know he isn’t a threat.

The
guest room is easily twice the size of Jered’s bedroom, with plush white carpet
and a queen-sized bed, neatly made, in the center. There’s a matching bureau, a
nightstand, and an armchair tucked in the corner. But otherwise the large room
is conspicuously sparse. Jered spent quite some time wearing a path through the
open space between the door and the long, tall window across the way.

Jered’s
father returned an hour or so after we’d come up. He said he’d called the
hospital, that Jered’s mother is still unconscious, and the doctors don’t know
how long it will be. He couldn’t keep those eyes off the stone on Jered’s
middle finger the entire fifteen minutes he was up here.

After
he left, Jered stared at the back of the door, unmoving for a full twenty
minutes more, and then burst into hysterics. He is still crying. I wonder if I
should reveal myself but choose to wait until he calls, afraid he might order
me away.

Finally,
his quaking shoulders slow, and the sounds quiet to small gasps. He sits slowly
up in the bed, taking a long shuddering gulp of air. His dark eyes are
surrounded by bright red where the whites should be. He looks terrible.

“Leela,”
he says, then clears his throat to repeat himself.

“Here,
Jered,” I say, appearing directly in front of him. I bite the inside of my
cheek to prevent myself from launching into an attack on his father.
I’m
smarter than this
, I think. What is wrong with me? I have to get control of
myself if I am to handle what is sure to come.

“Is
he telling the truth?” he asks.

I
swallow, trying to sort through the emotions I’ve experienced since seeing him
on the steps. It seems my master is quite astute.

“I
believe he is hiding something,” I say. Jered looks away, blowing air out
through clenched teeth. “He used magic on his wife,” I add.

“I
was afraid of that,” says Jered. “He might have just wanted to help calm her
down, though, right?”

This
time I really do put a hand on his shoulder. He leans against it with his
cheek, and a shiver runs up my arm.
Get control
. I realize that the
anger and hurt inside of me has dissipated. That Jered was just frightened and
grieving.

“You
need some sleep,” I say. My voice is soft, softer than it’s been in quite some
time.

“I
don’t think I can,” he says. He looks up into my face, so much pain written on
his. He is very close, my hand still on his shoulder. His scent is familiar
now. Comforting and exciting at the same time.

Gently,
I turn his head away from me and grasp his other shoulder as well. I work out
the tension in his back. I can’t bear to see his eyes anyway. Not right now.

His
head slumps forward after a few minutes, and I help ease him down onto the bed.
I concentrate, and he is beneath the covers, clothes draped over the armchair
in the corner.

“Be
safe,” I whisper, turning invisible and passing through the closed bedroom
door. I put an alarm spell on the room, so that if anyone were to enter, I would be alerted immediately.

I
find Achan downstairs in the step-down family room. I take in the sprawling
Persian rug laid out beneath the glass coffee table, the large white sectional
on which he sits, and the giant flatscreen television in front of him. It is
off, but he stares so intently at the screen that I’m sure he sees something.

It’s
more what I don’t see that bothers me. No signs of children in this pristine
mansion. Nothing that tells of the family living here. Just expensive items on
display.

I
move around and in front of him, kneeling down on one knee to study his face up
close. Echoes of emotion and snatches of memory filter through my head. I wince
at the intensity of it. He is older, his face more lined and confident than I
remember. But it is him, of this I am sure.

“I
feel your presence,” he says, and I jerk back my hand that was inches from his
skin. “I know it’s you, Leela.” Any doubt about his meaning evaporates with the
mention of my name.

Pulling
in a deep breath, I materialize before him, poised confidently upon the top of
the glass coffee table. His eyebrows raise a fraction of an inch, but otherwise
he betrays no reaction.

“How
can you be here?” I ask with more venom in my voice than I’d intended. I don’t
like appearing emotional in front of humans. I have worked hard and long to
prevent this. And now I have yet another reason I would like to kill him.

“I
was going to ask you a similar question. How is it you are with my son, when
you belong to me?”

“I
will never belong to you again.” He squirms slightly in his seat, and I smile,
satisfied.

“You
will. You must.”

“Oh?”
I ask, standing and striding as close as I dare. “And why is that?”

“Because
we are meant to be together, Leela. Because our love is what has kept me alive,
kept me searching all these centuries.”

I
freeze, feeling trapped. “You lie! How dare you try to use such obvious
untruths? Do you think I am still a fool? After all these years?” I scream at
him now, right in his face, shaking with fury. And before I realize what’s
happened he pulls me down on top of him and kisses me.

My
first response is to struggle, to try to pull away like a helpless human girl.
But Achan has always been strong. He holds me tighter, fingers digging into my
arms. And just as it occurs to me to use magic to repel him, I am overwhelmed
by feelings I’ve fought to bury for a thousand years.

His
earthen scent envelopes me. The touch of his lips, hungry and firm, moving
against my own. His body, solid and warm. I part my lips to draw in air like a
drowning person, and his tongue slides inside.

And
I kiss him back.

My
body relaxes, and so do his hands, which he slips over and down, lingering at
the small of my back. It is not until they travel up toward my chest that I
pull away, backing into the table and gasping for air.

He
smiles triumphantly, and I want to strike him. I realize as I try to raise my
hand that I cannot. I cannot hurt anyone. Even him. I bite back the scream that
rises in my throat and return his smile.

“Not
that you weren’t any good in bed,” I say. “But now doesn’t seem the right time
for a romp. And your wife might not be too happy about it. I suppose you can
always put another spell on her, though. Is it damaging to her memory, Achan? To
continually control her like that?”