Will Power: A Djinn Short

by Laura Catherine

  Contents

  Title

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  About the Author

  Thanks

  Djinn

  Will Choose

  Blooders

  Will Power

  Laura Catherine

  Will Power

  Copyright © 2014 Laura Catherine

  All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced, scanned, electronically shared or uploaded without permission of the author.

  Editor: Lauren McKellar

  Cover Design: Berto Designs

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  For more information visit:

  www.quillwielder.com

  Chapter One

  Two sharp icicles shot toward me with deadly precision, but I knew they wouldn’t hurt me. Nothing really hurt me. Not physically, anyway. I didn’t feel pain.

  I side-stepped the attack, whipping my head around as the ice hit the back wall of the training room, shattering on impact.

  “You’ll have to try harder than that, Pyke,” I called.

  “Oh, I’m just getting started,” Pyke replied, slapping his palms on the wooden floorboards. A thin sheet of ice erupted from his hands.

  The ice moved like a snake, slithering toward me. I ran toward Pyke, sweat beading on my brow. We’d been training for several hours already and I was tired, but I wasn’t going to lose.

  I jumped over the ice slick as five icicles shot up towards me, missing by inches. I rolled along the floor and lunged at Pyke, tackling him in the chest.

  Pyke groaned as his back hit the ground and I pinned him in place. I gripped his shirt and pushed down. He grabbed my hands and froze them. I could feel the slightest chill, but there was no pain.

  That was all part of my ability. I had thick skin that protected me from weapons and also numbed everything.

  “Enough.”

  Pyke and I looked to the side at our instructor, Jack, whose beefed up frame leaned against a wall, tattooed arms folded across his chest and shaved head pointed down.

  “Pyke, I said enough,” Jack said.

  I looked down to see Pyke was still trying to freeze my hands off. They were blue.

  “Fine,” Pyke said and the ice melted away, leaving my hands red and raw. There was still no pain but they were hard to move.

  I let go of Pyke’s shirt and pulled him to his feet. “Good fight,” I said, nudging his side.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Pyke replied, rolling his shoulders.

  “Great work,” Jack praised. “Pyke, you need to be faster with your abilities. Less showy and more action.”

  Pyke smirked. “I can do both.”

  Jack sighed, but didn’t press the matter. We were all used to Pyke’s attitude.

  “And Will, your fighting style is impeccable. You move light on your feet and punch like a rock—”

  “Here we go,” Pyke said, rolling his eyes. “Let the praising of Will begin.”

  “But,” Jack continued, “you need to control your ability.”

  “What is there to control?” I said. “My ability just … is.”

  “Your ability might stop a knife from killing you, but you’re not invincible. You need to recognise when you’re in danger. Look at your hands.”

  My fingers were bleeding, puffed up and my pinkie was blackened.

  “Aw man, sorry,” Pyke said. “I didn’t mean to give you frostbite.”

  “I didn’t even feel it,” I replied.

  “And that’s my point,” Jack said. “You need to focus on what your limits are or you might not notice how injured you’ve gotten. Blooders use our abilities against us. There are plenty of abilities out there that can kill you.”

  I understood what Jack was saying. I had excelled at weapons training and hand-to-hand combat, and though I was doing really well against other Guardjinn abilities, I did have to visit a healer after every session.

  “What should I do then?” I asked.

  “Everyone has to master their abilities. You are no different. You need to learn what’s too much for you and protect yourself accordingly.”

  I’d never tried to control my ability before. It had always just been there. For as long as I could remember I hadn’t felt injuries or they had been nothing more than a scratch. But Jack was right. If I was going to be the best Guardjinn I could be then I was going to have to master my ability.

  We were all born Djinn. Guardjinn and Djinn were really the same thing and yet we were seen as lower class because of one defining difference. All Djinn could shape shift into one kind of animal, but to shift into a dog made you Guardjinn.

  “Go get yourselves healed up. Oh and Pyke? Tell your cousin if she misses another training session I’ll make her do laps around the compound.”

  Pyke gave Jack a salute. “Sure thing, boss.”

  Jack just shook his head and sighed.

  Pyke and I walked out of the training room and down the palace hallway to the healer’s room. It was good having a new area to train in, since the Queen had had the training room built.

  The old training room for the Guardjinn was the park that we ran around in as dogs. The Queen had been kind to the Guardjinn, despite what a lot of the other Djinn were saying. We all knew she wanted to change things, but I didn’t believe she would succeed.

  Djinn were an evolutionary jump from humans. We looked like humans and acted like them, but we were different—we had abilities, magical powers that caused the skin around our eyes to glow blue.

  Humans didn’t know about us; not anymore that is. There was a time when the Djinn lived among the humans. We were known as genies, wish granters. And how did we grant wishes?

  Blood.

  In exchange for money or favours, a human could drink Djinn blood and temporarily gain that Djinn’s ability. The deals worked at first, but the humans became greedy, wanting more and more of our abilities. They were jealous of our abilities and started taking drastic action.

  This was how the first Blooders were born—crazed humans who drank so much Djinn blood that their eyes turned red with a hunger they could no longer control. This is why we went into hiding, why humans no longer knew of our existence.

  I stepped into the healer’s room and was met with a middle-aged woman with auburn hair. Mrs Baxter was on the council and also a healer. Though Guardjinn were the only ones who worked for the Djinn, healers were limited and needed by everyone, so sometimes they had to work here. It was the one job that Djinn and Guardjinn both had to do.

  “What did you do this time?” Mrs Baxter said as we entered. “Look at your fingers. Sit down now.”

  I sat in an armchair while she took my hands in hers, assessing the damage.

  “Does it hurt?” she asked, but then remembered whom she was talking to. “Of course it doesn’t. You’re lucky. Frostbite is extremely painful.”

  Mrs Baxter closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. My fingers became less swollen and the raw red colour faded.

  Pyke was keeping himself amused by tapping on various jars lining the walls. Though our healers can use their abilities for most ailments, sometimes they need help from plants and bugs.

  Pyke picked up a jar with what looked
like giant slugs inside. One had its face pressed up against the glass; tiny sharp teeth filled its round mouth.

  “Please don’t touch that,” Mrs Baxter said with her eyes still closed.

  I smirked as Pyke carefully placed the jar back on the shelf and stood beside me.

  Mrs Baxter opened her eyes. “I can’t fix it all. You’ll need to have them bandaged for a day or so. Come back tomorrow and the healer on duty should be able to finish the job,” she said. She looked exhausted from the work. Her eyes were baggy and hollow.

  “Thank you,” I said, as she wrapped white bandages around my hands. Not being able to use my hands until tomorrow was going to be annoying. Plus I wanted to go for a run this afternoon. It had been a long time since I’d been in dog form. Not going to happen now.

  “You look ridiculous,” Pyke said.

  “This is your fault,” I reminded him.

  “I believe Jack said it was your fault for not feeling.” Pyke said the last word with sarcasm. He didn’t like talking about feelings, preferring to punch things.

  “Alright, both of you out,” Mrs Baxter said and ushered us out the door.

  ***

  “Mia didn’t show up for training again,” I said as we walked through the palace toward the exit. I watched the palace Guardjinn walk in pairs down the halls and I nodded at them as we passed. It was a sign of respect, and I did respect them. It was a great honour to serve the royal family. An honour I hoped to have when my training was complete.

  Pyke had never been interested in that kind of thing. He was never really interested in following rules in general, but Mia kept him in line.

  “I told her this morning to come, but she’s still trying to find work so she doesn’t have to be in training anymore. If you’d have told her, she would have come.” Pyke winked and I rolled my eyes.

  I’d known that Mia had feelings for me ever since we were kids, but I’d never felt the same. I couldn’t. I’d grown up with her and Pyke; they were family. I didn’t want to hurt her though, and I was waiting for Mia to take interest in someone else.

  “She’ll be at the park later,” Pyke continued. “You can talk to her then.”

  “Eh-hmm.”

  Someone cleared his voice behind us. I turned to see Ivan Greenwood standing in the palace foyer dressed in a black suit, his tie tight around his throat. His bushy brows were turned down in a V shape as if being in the same room as us was an insult.

  Ivan Greenwood, like Mrs Baxter, was on the council. He and his wife were very close to the Queen and had some strong opinions on the way the Djinn community was being run. It was no secret that Ivan disliked Queen Celeste. From what I’d heard, he opposed her every decision and constantly tried to undermine her authority.

  “Mr Greenwood,” I said and bowed. Pyke followed my lead.

  “I want to talk to you,” he said to me then flicked a hand at Pyke. “Leave us.”

  Pyke clenched his fists, but did as he was told. “I’ll see you later,” he said.

  Ivan was a cruel person, especially toward Guardjinn. I had heard stories from Guardjinn who had been in his employ—none of them good—but it was our duty to serve. Our opinions didn’t matter.

  “What can I do for you?” I asked. I hadn’t had much experience talking to Djinn. I was still in training, and hadn’t received a posting yet.

  “I spoke with the Guardjinn instructor,” Ivan said. “I wanted to know who his best pupil was and he recommended you.”

  Ivan eyed me up and down with disgust, his lip curled. His gaze lingered on my bandaged hands. “Perhaps he was wrong.”

  “What do you need me for?” I asked, ignoring the jab.

  Everyone knew Ivan’s daughter had been stolen as a baby by a Blooder, Malcolm Lockhart. I knew the story all too well because it was Pyke’s father who had been hired by Ivan to retrieve her that night. Malcolm killed Grant Danvers and left Pyke to grow up without a father. Ivan had sent many Guardjinn after Malcolm, and some came close, but no one ever succeeded.

  It was impressive that Ivan and his wife had continued to search for their missing daughter for sixteen years. Usually outside of the compounds a Djinn didn’t stand a chance of survival; Blooders always lurked on the borders waiting to strike. They were always looking for a new blood supply.

  Malcolm was different, though. He stole the Greenwoods’ daughter, and from the accounts of the Guardjinn who had been sent to retrieve her, Malcolm was raising her as his daughter, as a human.

  “I’m sure you are aware that my daughter is still missing,” Ivan said.

  “Yes.”

  “I have spent time, money and resources with no results. It is time I changed my tactics.”

  “And what would those changes be?” I asked, already knowing where this was going.

  “I need someone younger, someone who can get close to my daughter without being noticed. That’s where you come in. I want you to bring her back.”

  “But I’m not a full Guardjinn yet.”

  “You are now. I will give you information on her last known whereabouts, a car and any money you need. You may take a team or go alone. I don’t care, as long as you bring her back.”

  Ivan pulled a yellow envelope from his suit and handed it to me.

  “What makes you think I can bring her back when everyone else has failed?” I asked, and realised that I shouldn’t have spoken out of turn.

  Ivan gritted his teeth. “I am doing you a favour by hiring you before you have finished training. You should be grateful.”

  “I am grateful,” I replied, wishing I hadn’t said anything. “Thank you for this opportunity.”

  “Good. Everything is ready. Read through the reports in that envelope then come and see me. The rest of the assignment will be discussed then.”

  Chapter Two

  I usually walked back to the Lower Ring with Pyke and Mia; it had been a while since I was alone. I navigated the streets of the Middle Ring with ease. There was only one path I ever took from gate to gate. I had never explored the Middle Ring, though I’m sure every street looked the same as the main one.

  The Djinn houses were identical, each one a single piece of a matching set. They were too large for my liking, too many rooms and wasted space.

  I liked the houses in the Lower Ring better. Sure, they weren’t as luxurious, but they had character, they had life, and they felt like home.

  I passed under the Lower Ring gate and turned left down the narrow street away from the park. I had planned to meet Pyke and Mia there.

  Things had changed.

  Ivan’s request had changed everything and I needed time to think. I was happy to finally be given a job, to not be a Guardjinn-in-training anymore, but I didn’t want this job.

  I didn’t want to leave the compound where I was more useful serving the Djinn. I didn’t want to go looking for the impossible.

  The worst part? I had to leave as soon as possible, before Pyke found out. Pyke would insist on coming to get the revenge that drove his every move.

  No. I couldn’t tell him or Mia. I would go home, pack and leave tonight. They wouldn’t be able to follow then.

  My feet had carried me the rest of the way home. I stood out the front of a brown brick building. It only had four rooms; two bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen. Faded green shutters covered the windows and the roof was a large piece of sheet metal that absorbed the heat in summer and chilled the house in winter.

  This was home.

  I ran my hand along the splintered wood of the door, wondering how long it would be until I returned.

  “Will?” my mother called from inside the house.

  I stepped inside and dropped my gym bag on the floor. My mother stood by the stove, swirling a pot of soup for dinner.

  “I thought I heard you coming,” she said with a warm smile. “How was training?”

  Her eyes fell on my hands and she dropped the wooden spoon into the pot.

  “What happened?” she asked, ru
shing toward me.

  “Just training,” I replied, pulling my hands out of her reach. “I’m fine. The healer looked at them.”

  “Good. You should be more careful.” She retrieved the spoon from the soup and continued stirring.

  My mother stared off into the distance the way she did sometimes when her thoughts took over. She used to be such a strong woman, a fighter, but heartbreak had changed her.

  “I got a job,” I said, bringing her back.

  “How wonderful, Will. Did the palace finally offer you a position? I knew they would. You are such a strong fighter…”

  “Actually, it wasn’t the palace,” I said. “It was Ivan Greenwood who offered me a contract.”

  “Ivan Greenwood?” My mother tensed; she knew the job I had been given. Her eyes fell, accepting my words without a fight. My mother had always followed the rules, always been an upstanding Guardjinn, and never questioned anything.

  She knew her place and never spoke out. My mother knew the consequences of a Guardjinn who broke the rules. I knew them too.

  “When do you leave?” she asked.

  “Tonight,” I replied.

  “Will you have time for one last dinner?”

  I didn’t want to hurt my mother’s feelings, but I also didn’t want to leave any time for Pyke to find me.

  “An early dinner?” I said.

  My mother’s smile lit up her gold eyes. “I’m so proud of you. Being personally asked to go on a mission is a great honour,” she said, rubbing her thumb against my cheek. Too bad I couldn’t feel anything but slight pressure.

  “I just wish it didn’t require me to leave here.”

  “We take the jobs we are given. Be grateful.”

  I noticed the harsh stab in her tone. It was always the way my mother acted when someone sounded as if they were questioning the Djinn. I knew my place. Guardjinn. Server. Protector. Slave.

  The last thought slipped in and I immediately scolded myself for even thinking it.