Marked (The Secrets of the Djinn #1)

by Lamer, Bonnie

  She drops her hands to her side and huffs, “Fine. Go see what Grams wants and I’ll get the princess some ibuprofen.” Satisfied, Zane leaves the room.

  Brielle disappears into the bathroom and comes back with a small white bottle. Just the sight of it makes me salivate like one of Pavlov’s dogs. That’s how bad my headache is. She pops the bottle open and shakes out four into her hand. “Here,” she says. She hands me the glass of water that has somehow appeared on my nightstand.

  I’m a little unsteady when I sit up. Roman puts his hand on my back to help me. The ibuprofen and water slide down my dry throat, making me cough. Roman takes the glass and puts it back on the nightstand so I don’t spill it all over the bed during my coughing fit.

  When I can speak again, I look up at Brielle. “Thank you.” She shrugs in a ‘whatever’ kind of way. I hate that there’s this animosity between us. “Can I ask you something?”

  Now she looks leery. “That depends on the question.”

  “Why do you hate me?”

  “Other than the fact that you’ve totally turned my life upside down and put my life in danger?” she asks, but there’s something in her expression that tells me she isn’t really upset about that.

  I shake my head a little. “That can’t be it. I think you thrive on the danger the djinn present,” I tease softly, hoping she’ll take it that way.

  Running a hand through her brown hair, which is so much prettier than the red was, she says with a small smile, “Yeah, I do.” Sighing, she adds, “I don’t hate you. I just don’t understand what’s going on and I don’t like that feeling. I don’t know why Malik sent me to save you; I don’t know what connection you have with him. But what bothers me the most is that he sends me into dangerous situations but you he wants baby-sat as if you’re a precious little princess.”

  Wow. I’m pleasantly surprised; I didn’t expect such honesty. “Does that make you think he cares more about me than you?” It’s weird talking about this. I don’t even remember the guy yet I’m being treated as ‘the other woman’.

  Brielle rolls her eyes. “Well, duh.”

  I paste a smile to my lips. “Maybe he sent you to get me because he knows I wouldn’t be able to do the things you do. You’re a lot tougher than I am. Without you, I would have died already. So, it sounds to me like he has more faith in you than he has in me.”

  As my words sink in, I see her mind threading them together to cover the doubt that remains. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Well, I’m going to go see what Zane and Grams are up to.” She breezes out of the room with a half-smile on her face, feeling better than she did when she entered. I hope, anyway. I hope I made her feel something other than resentment towards me.

  Chapter 22 - Familiarity

  Roman sits down on the edge of the bed next to me. “Would you mind if I check your wounds?”

  His voice is deep and throaty, his innocent words slide over me like he just asked me to have sex. My rollercoaster of feelings towards him is definitely on an upswing regardless of my fainting spell. I don’t want to shy away from him. Instead, I’m craving his touch. I imagine his hands on me and heat and moisture pools at my core. I can’t imagine why I’ve kept him at arm’s length until now.

  “I don’t mind,” I say, barely above a whisper.

  He gives me a knowing smile. He can sense what I’m feeling. But concern for my health keeps him from touching me the way I want. Slowly, he unwinds the gauze around my arm that I was careful to keep dry during my shower. It doesn’t hurt this time. I don’t dare look down at it until Roman’s breath catches. Stealing a glance at my tattered skin, I am shocked to see that it’s not tattered at all anymore. It’s red. I have a rash, but that’s it. I am almost completely healed.

  I look up at Roman. “How can this be?”

  “I have no idea,” he says.

  His eyes have caught mine and I believe the thought of my arm has left his mind entirely. Slowly leaning forward, he brings his lips to mine. His kiss is soft and gentle, which is not what I want at all. I snake my arms around his neck and pull him closer. Propping his weight on his left arm, he leans over me, pushing me gently down on the pillows.

  Every nibble on my lips, every sweep of his tongue, sends hunger through my veins; an insatiable lust that takes me beyond reason. His hands touch me as if they have a thousand times before. I pull him closer, demanding more of him. My own hands move as if they have a mind of their own; seeking out the places that make him growl deep in his throat. His mouth becomes almost bruising with need and I match his passion with my own. Every doubt I have ever had about him is erased from my mind, the only thing left is this moment. This perfect moment.

  His hand snakes up my shirt to find my breast and the heat of his hand on my naked skin threatens to take me over the edge. I arch my back, pressing against him and he doesn’t disappoint. He kneads my breast and brushes his thumb over my nipple, causing me to moan into his mouth in ecstasy. I’m pulling on his shirt, wanting more of his skin on mine when he moves his mouth to my exposed breast and glides his tongue over the most sensitive areas. My need to push things farther is getting desperate; I need to feel more of him. I want to be writhing in pleasure underneath him as his body joins mine. My hand moves to the waistband of his pants, wanting to touch the part of him that is barely being restrained by the fabric.

  A memory flashes in my mind. A memory of him at my breast, touching and kissing it as he is now. The memory shifts to him being on top of me, taking me, each thrust more powerful than the last until his body quakes with the strain of holding back, trying to make the moment last so we can tumble over the edge together.

  What the hell?! I push Roman away. I’ve never kissed him like this before. I’ve never felt his hands on me. And I’ve certainly never had sex with him. Why am I remembering his touch? Unless...No, that’s too horrifying to even consider. When I was in the hospital, did he…? Roman’s looking down at me, trying to regain his breath, disappointment clear in his eyes. Could he have?

  “Get the fuck away from her, Doc,” Brielle says from the doorway, startling us both.

  Roman cranes his neck around, tugging down my shirt and then shifting his body so that I can see her as well. She’s holding a rifle and pointing it towards the bed. Zane is standing next to her looking pissed.

  “You heard my sister,” Zane growls. “Move. The fuck. Away from her.”

  “Zane, what’s going on?” I ask. I got the message that he kind of has the hots for me, but this is a little much. “Roman’s not doing anything wrong. I wanted him to stay.” At least I did when we started kissing. Now I don’t know what to think.

  “I’m not going to say it again.” Zane says. I’m pretty sure he means it.

  Roman stands up and squares off against him. “What is the meaning of this?” he asks. “Are we suddenly prisoners?”

  “She’s not,” Brielle says, nodding her head towards me. Funny, with her gun pointed towards both of us, I feel like I am.

  “Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” I plead.

  Instead of answering me, Zane says to Roman, “Why don’t you tell her how she got her mark, Doc.”

  Roman is just as baffled as I am. “How would I know that?”

  “Because you put it there,” Brielle says, her gun pointed directly at his heart. “It all makes sense now. How you dropped everything to come with us. How the djinn keep finding us.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Roman says, anger pooling in his words.

  “Brielle, Zane, you’re being ridiculous. Why would Roman put a djinn mark on me even if he could?” I ask.

  His eyes not leaving Roman’s, Zane says, “To mark you as his. To control you.”

  Now I know they’ve gone crazy. I guess this is what happens when you blindly follow strangers. “I am not his,” I snap. “And no one controls me.” I stand up from the bed and move next to Roman in an attempt at solidarity, regardless of my sudden doubts reg
arding his doctor-patient ethics.

  “Skye, you need to move away from him,” Zane orders. He has come in the room and is only about five feet from us.

  “She is perfectly fine right where she is,” Roman growls back. He puts his hand on my arm and tries to pull me behind him.

  That little slip in his attention gives Zane enough time to swing his leg in a roundhouse kick that hits Roman in the jaw and just misses me. I stumble back to the bed. Roman staggers back but doesn’t fall. Zane closes in on him but he’s ready this time. He throws a punch and Zane’s lip is suddenly bleeding. Zane is right back at him, pushing Roman against the wall and putting a fist in his gut and then another one. Roman hooks his foot around Zane’s and he falls to the floor with Roman swinging at him all the way down. The two become a flurry of fists as they roll across the room. Anything in their path is being destroyed as they pound on each other.

  I’m yelling at them to stop, but they’re not listening. Their fight has become brutal, both men are bloody as hell and neither looks like they’re going to stop until the other is unconscious. Or dead.

  Even Brielle looks horrified. She has lowered her gun and is just staring at the men rolling around. My attention is so focused on them, I am unaware of the newcomer in the room. Until her handgun is cocked and the barrel is right against Roman’s neck. I have no idea how she got that close to them, nor did I have any idea that she doesn’t always need her wheelchair. Roman stills mid-swing.

  “I am a hair’s breath away from pulling this trigger.” Her raspy voice is more chilling than anything I’ve ever heard. It’s the absolute truth in her words that makes it so. There is no doubt in anyone’s mind that she will pull the trigger and she won’t feel one iota of remorse for doing it.

  Roman releases his hand that was around Zane’s neck and slowly raises his arms in the universal sign for surrender. Brielle has remembered that she has a gun as well and it’s once again pointed at Roman. “Get up, Doc,” she says.

  My shock is wearing off. I turn to the gun toting family. “What the hell is wrong with you people?” I start to move towards Roman to assess his injuries, but Brielle’s gun turns to me. “Skye, this is for your own good. I made a promise that I would keep you safe. If I have to shoot you to do that, I will.”

  I look at her in disgust. “Because that makes a hell of a lot of sense.”

  Roman is standing now with Mrs. Gregori’s gun still pointed at his neck. She’s a lot taller than I would have guessed. She has to be a good five eight at least. She looked smaller in her wheelchair. Less homicidal, too.

  Zane picks himself up off the floor and uses his t-shirt to wipe some of the blood off his face. A wave of sympathy runs through me until I remember that he’s the one that started the fight. I scowl at him and turn back to Brielle.

  “Will you please tell us what’s going on?”

  Zane answers for her. “Your boyfriend here is a djinni.”

  “What?!” Roman and I both say at the same time. He looks just as shocked as I am.

  “Why in the world would you think he’s a djinni?” I ask. Roman’s jaw muscles are so tight they may snap and his face is turning dark red with anger.

  Brielle’s face softens in pity as she says, “Skye, listen, Zane’s telling the truth. The mark on your neck proves it.”

  This is ridiculous. “How can a birthmark I’ve had since I was born have anything to do with Roman?” I ask.

  “How do you know you’ve had it since birth?” Zane asks. He lips are swollen from the fight, so he sounds a little strange when he speaks.

  “My parents told me,” I say haughtily. Zane raises a brow triggering the memory of our conversation earlier, which makes me defensive. “My parents did not lie to me.”

  “I only met her a few days ago and she already had the mark. You can verify that with any of the nurses who cared for her in the hospital,” Roman growls. “It’s not possible that I put it there.”

  “Except for that tiny fact that she doesn’t remember anything from before her sixteenth year,” Mrs. Gregori rasps. She smacks Roman in the back of the head with her gun which earns her a dark look from him. I think her ‘I won’t hit you because you’re a little old lady’ status is diminishing. She’s close to getting herself bitch slapped by a grown man.

  “Mrs. Gregori, please,” I say, moving closer to her. “I still don’t understand why you think Roman did it. What proof do you have?”

  Zane approaches me and puts his hands on my shoulders, leaving bloody marks on my t-shirt. “How did it feel when I touched your mark?”

  Color floods my face. “It…” I really don’t want to answer him. Especially since everyone is staring at me, waiting for my response. I don’t want to announce to everyone that his tongue on the mark made me collapse. Damn it. Maybe he’s a pig, but I’m making an educated guess that this declaration is not for the sake of his ego. Okay, there’s probably some of that there, too.

  “Skye, how did it feel?” he asks again, shaking my shoulders a little.

  There doesn’t seem to be a way around this so I tell him what he wants to hear. “It felt good.” That’s all he’s getting.

  Zane chuckles. “Good, or fucking unbelievable?”

  I glower at him. I can’t believe he’s making me say this in front of his grandmother. He is a pig. “Fine. Fucking unbelievable. Are you happy now?”

  He smiles sadly. “I would be if I was the only one who could inspire that feeling. But unfortunately, anyone except the person who put the mark there can make you feel like that. Did you hear me? Except the person who put it there.”

  Oh god, I know where he’s going with this. I’m even more horrified than I was a few minutes ago. “What happens then?” Please don’t tell me.

  Zane looks over at Roman and it’s obvious he’s not happy his grandmother broke up the fight. Looking back at me, he says, “How did it feel when the doc touched it?”

  The pit of my stomach fills with fear. “It…it hurt.”

  “Hurt?” Zane pushes.

  Anger is pushing my fear into a corner. I wish I had never met any of them. “Fine, it hurt so badly I passed out. Are you happy now?”

  “Not at all,” he says. Dropping his hands back to his sides, he turns to his grandmother. “What do you want to do with him?”

  “You’re not going to kill him, are you?” I ask, terrified that Mrs. Gregori is just going to pull the trigger.

  “We are not savages like them,” she scoffs.

  A desperate thought pops into my head. “Wait, if you have safeguards in place like Brielle had at her apartment in the city, how could he have gotten inside the house? Or into the apartment for that matter. He can’t be a djinni.”

  “Only lower level djinn are affected by the sine wave. Upper level djinn are almost human, so it doesn’t bother them,” Brielle explains.

  “Oh.” What else could prove he’s not a djinni? “All Roman has done since I woke up is tried to protect me. He hasn’t tried to hurt me at all.”

  “He was just trying to gain your trust until he could pry you away from the people meant to protect you. And from the goings on in here, it appears he was doing a good job at it,” Mrs. Gregori rasps. She’s starting to look a little pale. I’m pretty sure she needs to sit or else she’s going to fall down.

  “For what purpose?” Roman asks.

  “To get her alone to kill her,” Brielle says.

  Roman shakes his head in bewilderment. “If I wanted her dead, I could have killed her days ago. Or I could have left her at the hospital. I’m sure those djinn could have taken care of it.” He does have a point. An accidental overdose would be easy to manage.

  Mrs. Gregori sighs. “If I lower this gun, what are you going to do?” She really needs to sit down.

  “What do you expect me to say to that?” Roman growls. “Tell you I’m going to make a run for it or try to assure you I won’t?”

  She stares at him for a long moment. “Brielle, take him to hi
s guestroom and see to his injuries. He also could use a change of clothes. Get some from Zane’s room.”

  “What?” Brielle says in disbelief.

  “You heard me. When he’s all cleaned up, lock him in there while we try to figure things out.”

  Roman is seething. “So you intend to make me a prisoner then.”

  Mrs. Gregori shrugs. “Would you rather I just shoot you? That would be the easiest solution.” Again, the caliber of truth in her words is frightening.

  “Roman, please,” I say. “We’ll get this sorted out.”

  Without a word, he walks to the door. Brielle has to move aside to let him out. Then she follows him next door. So, now what do I do?