by Rainy Kaye
My head snaps up. “Hold on. You expect me to—”
“There is a damn killer genie on the loose!” She waves her hands around. “Besides, it's not like you're at any risk of actually becoming—ya know.”
I grind my teeth and lock my gaze on her. In what galaxy would anyone assume I would be down with acting out the eight years of hell I lived through?
For the first time since I met Syd, I think I could walk out the door and never look back.
Way to start the morning.
“That doesn't mean I want to pretend I'm 'ya know',” I say with edge. “I don't want to have to kill or kidnap again. Not even without the genie bond.”
“You won't have to do any of that. Just tag along. I'll do the talking.”
I shake my head. “Absolutely not.”
“You're not being logical about this!”
“I'm definitely not being logical about something,” I say through gritted teeth.
She puts her hands on her hips and eyes me. “Like what?”
I resist answering.
I know what I'm not being logical about. I'm not being logical about the fact Syd is related by blood to some terrible people who had no regard for anyone around them. The relationship is becoming more obvious as time goes on.
She sighs, but I can't tell if it's in exhaustion or exasperation. “Can you honestly tell me we should just ignore this opportunity because it hits too close to home?”
I lower my gaze to the carpet.
She comes to stand in front of me, and I glance up at her. She really does look tired. She gives me a half-smile, then straddles my lap.
Her fingers play with the front of my hair. “You know I love you, right?”
“Yeah, I know.” I wrap my arms around her waist, annoyed with myself for liking her attention despite how much she's ticking me off. “If I go, do I get a magic carpet as a sign on bonus?”
“That belonged to Aladdin, so it would be mine.”
“Genies get screwed out of everything.”
She smiles and leans in so our lips are centimeters apart. “I'll be sure to rub your lamp.”
“And by lamp you mean. . .”
“Mm-hmm.” She presses her mouth against mine, and I have no idea how minutes ago I thought I could ever leave.
I take her face in my hands. “How about that shower?”
“Clean me 'til I'm dirty again?”
“Sounds like a plan,” I say, studying her soft features.
Her smart little brain has a pretty face and—I lower my eyes—a gorgeous body. I lift her shirt over her head, then kiss the top of each breast as I undo her bra. She's all perky, and I know what's waiting below. I've never known a woman who gets ready-to-go as quickly as Syd.
I take it as a compliment.
I nudge her to stand, then help her out of her jeans. Her panties follow. I guide her by the waist to turn around. She laughs, but humors me.
I lean over and bite her ass cheek. She yelps and pushes me back.
With a grin, I stand and lead her to the shower. It's just a small bathroom in a cheap hotel, nothing fancy and not a lot of space to work with.
Challenge accepted.
She flips on the water while I undress. I wrap my arms around her naked body and hug her close to mine. She undulates her hips a little.
I turn and bump her against the wall. Her hands slide across my shoulders. I kiss her, hard and deep, and hook her leg up. Her breathing is stifled moans. I don't like when she's stifled.
As I push inside, she tightens her grasp on my back. She's so wet and warm. With a groan, I jerk her hips toward me, bracing my arm against the wall and thrusting harder.
Her wetness drips down the inside of her thigh.
God damn.
I lower her leg a little to the side of the tub, then slide my hand right where she wants it. Her body shudders along with her breathing. I keep going, her muscles tensing until she buries her face in my shoulder to quiet her cries as her body trembles. New warmth engulfs me, deep inside of her, goading me to the edge.
I pull out and urge her toward the shower, then follow after. She turns around to prop against the tiled wall and lets me finish from behind, the hot water to our backs and steam filling the air. I nuzzle her neck and kiss her jaw, pressed tight against her, until my heart slows.
After the shower, we lay side-by-side on the bed. I want to feel relaxed. I want to drift into a pleasant slumber. My brain has other plans though. It still can't wrap around what we're planning to do.
I turn my head to Syd. She looks as content as I wish I were.
I brush a strand of hair out of her face. “Do you even know where these JiNet people meet?”
“No,” she says, as if whispering is all the energy she can manage, “but I did find information about the leader. His name is Lyle Gardner. He lives in L.A. and his address is in the documentation.”
At least that gives us a reason to leave town. Maybe we will get ahead of my fan club.
She laces her fingers into mine. “You gonna be okay, Dim?”
“Yeah,” I say, and neither of us believes it.
I'm not worried about being believable enough for JiNet. I'm unsettled by the realization I will be plenty convincing. I haven't forgotten for a moment what being a genie was like.
But Syd is right. We just stumbled onto the trove of jinn. Fifty people living with the genie bond. Fifty people obeying every command.
Fifty people willing to kill us at their master's discretion.
Early in the morning, Syd calls a hotel in Los Angeles to book us a room, then we head for Lyle's house. It's about two hours from San Diego. Syd drives, because I have to fall back into line. Stand to the side, don't speak out of turn, do what I'm told. Got it.
I flip on the radio to fill the silence, but all of the stations annoy me. So does the glaring sunlight, the cramped passenger seat, and the frequent thump of the tires on the road. I turn the radio off again and try to zone out. My thoughts keep wandering to how much I don't want to do this.
At length, Syd says, “What do you think JiNet will be like?”
“A glorified dog show,” I say, not looking at her.
“Do you think all the masters are like that? Like Karl was?”
“The female jinn was about to disembowel a guy, and the male one was robbing a bank. You draw your own conclusion.”
Syd doesn't reply, and we don't speak the rest of the trip. We both know I'm right. This is going to be awful.
***
Lyle's house is everything I expect of a jinn master's lair: multiple stories with protruding patios and balconies, sprawling so far I can't help but wonder why any family would need so much space.
The gates open to let our car through. To the left is a tall water fountain display, the geyser type that shoot straight up. The rest of the front yard is landscaped bushes and a wide stone walkway.
Not a soul in site. Strange.
Syd parks and looks over at me. “Ready?”
“If you say so,” I reply, voice even.
She winces, then steps out of the car. I follow suit, not any too eagerly. She halts, hand on the roof of the car, and stares at the mansion. The whole weight of what is about to happen must have hit her. A little belated.
I wait, because I'm good at what I do. What I am.
Finally, she brushes off her long black skirt and adjusts her V-neck top. Then she makes her way across the yard, toward the front double doors. I follow after. It's entirely too easy to stay a few feet behind.
She climbs the steps and, with only a slight hesitation, rings the doorbell.
I come up behind her and hang back.
The door opens. On the other side, a woman in a blue dress and white apron opens the doors.
She glances between us. “Can I help you?”
“I'm looking for Lyle Gardner,” Syd says.
At least she sounds assured.
The woman smiles “Do you have an appointment?”<
br />
Syd doesn't miss a beat: “No, but it's about JiNet.”
Not what I would have said. This is likely a need-to-know organization, and the house staff probably doesn't.
I keep my mouth shut.
The maid says, “One second, let me call him.”
I expect to be invited in, but the maid presses a button on an intercom on the wall to her right, and says, “You have a visitor, Mister Gardner.”
A man's voice replies, “I'll be right there.”
His tone is so even, I can't discern if we're going to be greeted with tea and scones or a gun barrel.
The maid smiles at us again, then half-closes the door. Syd glances at me, but I give no indication of opinion. We can't break character. Not even for a second.
It feels as if the sun should have crossed the sky by the time the doors open again. The man is tall, with shoulders like Cerberus. Actually, he looks a bit like that dog, in human form. He's decked out with a loop in one ear, a steel chain necklace, and several rings on his fingers.
I avert my gaze like a good genie.
“Lyle Gardner,” he says, shaking Syd's hand. “I'm sorry, no one told me I was expecting company. Who sent you?”
I don't look up, but I catch the hitch in Syd's breathing. We needed a sponsor. Go figure.
“I'm a friend of Billy's,” she says. “Well, was.”
I cringe on the inside. Align ourselves with the dead guy. Great idea.
Lyle makes a small “hmm” noise. I can't discern the meaning of that either, but I already want to stab him in the face with a fish fork.
He puts his arms behind his back. “Are you interested in joining then?”
“I'd like to find out more,” Syd says, politely.
I resist rolling my eyes. I doubt there's a seminar.
Lyle doesn't seem taken back. “Fantastic! Are you available tomorrow morning?”
“Yes, I think so. Do I come back here?”
“That would be fine,” Lyle says. “How about at nine o'clock? And bring your jinn this time.”
Here we go.
Syd hesitates, then gesture my direction. “Um. . .He is my jinn.”
Lyle's gaze latches onto me. It's so strong, I suspect he could Force-choke too. He steps outside, standing in front of me, and uses both hands to tip my head up to him.
I want to rip out his throat. Slowly.
A biting dog is a disqualified dog, so I don't react.
He lets go and turns back to Syd. “Come inside.”
He gestures for us to follow him into the foyer. In the center stands a glass sculptured archway at least twice my height and wider than the double doors. It has several twisted glass legs, like a mutant table or a crippled spider. The top is flat, thin glass painted with bright swirls.
We pass under the archway to reach the sitting area, which is as boringly luxurious as every other mansion I've ever seen. Gold trinkets and heavy furniture and artwork from dead guys.
The maid closes the door behind us and stands to the side. She's quiet, obedient. We have something in common.
Syd takes a seat on the vintage couch. I hesitate. She pats the cushion next to her, and I drop down.
Lyle is watching us with the eagerness of a cat with a bug. He's going to play with us then let us go, or eat us. Either way, we're getting mangled.
“I'm sorry,” he says to Syd, “but I didn't get your name.”
“Sydney Ballantyne.” She glances at me. “And this is Dimitri.”
His faint sneer says she might as well have shoved a kitten in his face and introduced it as Fluffy.
He straightens the collar of his button down shirt, then links his fingers over his chest. “Are you from around here?”
“Phoenix,” she says.
I guess we aren't making up personas. Not sure I agree. Who knows if Karl had any tie-ins with these people?
This will be interesting.
“And how did you know Billy?”
“We worked together, briefly. I was his assistant.” Syd sounds like she has been rehearsing all week.
“Ah,” Lyle says, shoulders relaxing. “Learning the business, eh?”
“Yes, he was a great mentor.” She crosses her legs and folds her hands on her lap.
Sometimes I forget Syd is from the high-society. She's at home bullshitting it up with the elite in lavish mansions. On the other hand, I usually just bust out their windows and shoot them in the head.
“Billy was a huge asset to JiNet,” Lyle says, with a hint of remorse.
Hearing him speak the name of this wacky organization makes everything that much more disturbing. There really is a group of jinn masters.
“I can imagine he was,” Syd says. “We had fallen out of contact, so I was surprised to learn he had passed away. What happened?”
“Oh, Billy had a heart condition.” Lyle leans back in his chair. “He kept it under wraps, didn't want to worry anyone. Got the best of him, may he rest in peace.”
I steal a glance at Syd. Her expression is mild.
She can't be falling for this hogwash. Billy's only heart condition was the fact a jinn stopped it from beating.
Lyle Gardner is a liar.
“That's terrible.” Syd sounds grief-stricken. Believably.
I hope this is the only thing she fakes so well.
She continues. “What happened to his jinn? If I may ask.”
“Of course, of course.” Lyle sits forward. “His brother inherited Anwar. They're still part of JiNet, so you'll get to meet him.”
I can almost hear Syd's brain grind to a halt.
If Billy's jinn is still part of the same family line, then Eileena has been acquitted. All of our accusations about her involvement in this are thrown out for lack of evidence.
Syd finds herself again. “I hope they're adjusting well enough.”
“They're doing fine. Anwar is still in the same house, so not much changed for him.”
I bet.
“That's great to hear.” Syd switches crossed legs. “So how does this work? Us joining JiNet.”
My heart drops. She really is going through with this.
“Well, first we have to identify where your jinn will fit the best, then the divan will meet and vote in or out.” He smiles. “Don't worry. I can't remember the last time we turned down a new member. Not like they're lining up at the door.”
Syd returns his smile, pleasant and well-mannered. I would rather if she was a jerk to this guy. “How do we decide where Dimitri will fit in?”
“We have three houses—retrieval, eradication, and covert.”
Houses. He didn't mean Anwar hadn't changed dwellings. He's talking about how they organize their jinn.
This is getting weird.
“I'm sorry,” Syd says, “but what are each of those?”
Lyle looks up to the maid and nods her dismissal. She's so obedient, she might actually be a jinn.
He watches her leave the room through a far doorway, then turns back to Syd. “Burglary, homicide, and then everything else.”
I could have guessed. That's my resume.
Lyle continues. “We could either test Dimitri on all three, or you could decide.”
“Retrieval,” Syd says, too eagerly.
I appreciate she listened to me when I said I hate killing. Honestly, I do. But she might have remembered the last few retrieval missions ended poorly.
Stealth is not my strong suit. The only thing I'm actually good at is murder.
Eradication, as Lyle called it. What a great, misleading name for an alliance of serial killers.
“That's fantastic.” Lyle's grin widens. “We've been looking to expand our retrieval house. One of our families needs another member.”
Families? Houses?
This is starting to sound like a screwed-up reality TV show.
Lyle looks entirely too pleased about me joining his organization. Probably a bad idea to ask Syd to opt for another house.
Not like it
really matters. I don't want to work for any of them.
But then Syd and Lyle are standing and shaking hands as they finalize their deal—me.
“JiNet meets tomorrow afternoon.” Lyle pulls out his wallet and hands her a business card. “Here's the address. Just you and your jinn. No guests. We're very private, as you can understand.”
Syd nods.
“Come out, meet the houses. See how Dimitri interacts with the other jinn.”
Great. It's a play date.
“That sounds wonderful,” Syd says with happy smile that even has me fooled.
I can't wait to get out to the car and make sure this was all a ploy.
I might be panicking. My heart is thudding, my fingers tapping my leg.
Yeah, definitely panicking.
I still my hand, hoping Lyle doesn't notice this dog has his hackles raised.
“Fantastic,” Lyle says, guiding her toward the front door. “We look forward to seeing you tomorrow night then. Hopefully you will be able to meet my jinn, Fahim, as well.”
Syd gestures for me to follow her and says a few more parting words to him. I don't pay attention to their conversation because I'm done. So done.
We stroll out to the car.
After we're inside, safely out of earshot, I turn to Syd. “Well, that guy was as pleasant as a prison shank.”
“Hmm,” she says as if not really hearing me. She pulls the car out of the estate and onto the road.
“He lied to us, Syd.”
“Yeah, I guess he did.”
My jaw drops. “You guess he did? He told us Billy died of a heart failure!”
“Well, think about it.” She glances in the rear view mirror, like she expects us to be followed.
I check too. We aren't.
She says, “He oversees several dozen masters. Now a few of them are turning up dead. He's not going to admit that, especially if they're losing more than masters.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“There's an opening in the house. Do you think that's a coincidence? I suspect they lost a jinn.”
I stare at her, trying to follow along her twisty little path. “What do you suppose happened to the missing jinn?”
“Renegade.” Syd chews the inside of her cheek. “I think. . .I think the female jinn is renegade.”
“Can't be. She was shaking her head.” I tap my temple. “She had the hum. She was following order. Fulfilling a wish.”
