Stone Chameleon (Ironhill Jinn #1)

by Jocelyn Adams

  “Oh, this is nothing, just something for Grandfather.”

  When I tore my gaze away from her mesmerizing one, the slide was gone. That little sneak. Rachel must have slipped it into her pocket while she distracted me. “Is there something I need to know?”

  “Nothing at all.” She took the tray from my hand, the song in her voice lulling back my smile. “Let me help you with that.” Before I protested, she took the tube I’d marked “A”, put a drop on a clean slide, and adjusted the microscope as she looked through it.

  I considered questioning her further, but perhaps, like me, she had her own secrets that needed protecting.

  “Interesting,” she said.

  Mercy. If it interested one who’d seen everything, then we must have found some evidence at last. “What is it?”

  Rachel moved aside, and I took her place.

  “It’s full of debris, no big surprise there.” I adjusted the knob to bring the image into sharper focus. A tiny cluster of oblong shapes came into view, previously lost amongst the other particles. “Are those cells?”

  “I believe so, yes. Skin cells, to be exact, and not from any aquatic species I know of.”

  My blood chilled. I hadn’t considered my own skin cells could have been on the stairs, but no jinn information resided in the database, so Rachel wouldn’t be able to identify me, anyway. “But from what? They’re an odd shape, so I’d guess not human.” Or not regular human.

  “I can identify every species in the database from memory, and this one isn’t in there.” Her tone remained light, but I detected a hint of apprehension. “Do you mind if I do some testing on these samples tonight?”

  I frowned at the young woman. She’d memorized the entire database, images and all? Astounding. Although I’d never had a reason to distrust Rachel, I left her with only two of the samples, along with the flower water. I slipped the third into the zippered compartment of my handbag for safe keeping.

  “You seem a little high-strung tonight, Lou,” Rachel said as I neared the door. “Are you feeling well?”

  Sure, just darling. A vampire thought I’d killed five of his people and was threatening to rip out my heart. A man who may or may not have been jinn knew of my heritage and was blackmailing me to have dinner with him in exchange for information. My mum, whom I needed like a child needed a light in the dark, had accused me of having loose morals and ceased to exist as I knew her.

  “Yes, just fine, thanks.” I waved and exited, talking over my shoulder to hide the lie that no doubt reflected in my face. “Don’t work too late.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Wearing the third outfit I’d tried on, I perched on the arm of the sofa and wove my arms together in useless protest. I had to go—my need to know demanded it— but it didn’t mean I had to like it. I’d first put on slacks and a silk blouse before remembering Mr. Bassili told me to wear something nice and slipped into my favorite off-the-shoulder black cocktail dress.

  When I realized I shouldn’t care what he thought of my attire, I settled on a knee-length flared skirt in a deep blue, matched with a white cotton crossover top that tied at my nape. It wasn’t the best I had, nor the worst. There wouldn’t be too many places in Ironhill he could take me where I wouldn’t fit in. If he didn’t like it, he could lump it.

  The elven dagger I’d strapped to my thigh gave me a little comfort. If he tried anything untoward, I’d give him a close shave and maybe relieve him of his overstuffed head while I was at it.

  To help pass the time, I’d been going over the details of the water on my steps and what I’d seen on the slide. How would a creature get to my home in the middle of the city and still be wet enough to leave puddles like that? Had those puddles once been butterflies?

  Would the particles match the dirt from Rhoda’s parking lot, picked up when the creature crossed to my door? Or had it left me some clues from where it originated? Possibly some DNA to help me identify it? I hoped so. Isaac needed something concrete, so he’d stop darkening my door with his grouch on.

  A knock came at five minutes to seven. I slapped a hand to my chest. Benny must have heard him coming, because he’d already commenced his warnings through the crack under the door. I stood, but my feet seemed unwilling to move me forward. For heaven’s sake, woman, pull yourself together.

  I took a deep breath, picked up my beaded clutch from the table, and opened the door, while erecting a suitable scowl to greet the man with. The sight of Amun standing on the stair stole away whatever sharp quip I’d been about to deliver. He clutched a bundle of tulips in his hands, his head tipped toward them. He wore a smashing steel gray suit with a matching shirt, his hair lying in a neat swath of wavy black.

  It couldn’t be. The cocksure Amun Bassili was nervous?

  “You have a lot of nerve,” I said at last. “And you’re not funny, you know.”

  His face lifted, a smile hitting those starry eyes before his mouth took the shape. He stared until my cheeks blazed. “You are a vision.”

  I made a scoffing sound, shoved Benny back inside with my foot, and shut him in. “Save your silk tongue for your lovers, Mr. Bassili. I’m going with you because I need answers, and for no other reason.”

  His expression fell flat better than if I’d kicked him in the danglies with my pointed shoe. “I see. Well, shall we go then?” He held his arm out, but I waved him off, fighting the sting in my stomach. After what he’d done, he deserved a good tongue lashing at the very least. I shouldn’t have felt bad about putting him in his place.

  “I’m quite capable of traversing the stairs on my own,” I said, snatching the proffered bouquet from his fingers and motioning for him to get moving. “After you.”

  With a nod, he descended. I followed him outside into the damp evening air, expecting some elaborate car or limousine, shocked to find a beige Toyota Camry waiting for us. “What? No Mercedes or Aston Martin tonight?” I said in mock disgust.

  His sheepish smile sent a rush of tingles south to my toes as he held the passenger door open for me. “Sorry if I disappointed you. Other than your clothing, perhaps, you lean more toward the practical, so I thought you’d appreciate something a little less flashy.”

  Eyes narrowed, I strode to the sedan and lowered myself onto the leather seat. Although his assumption was correct, it grated on me.

  He shut my door, climbed in the driver’s side, and started the engine.

  I angled toward him and deposited the flowers on the back seat. “Tell me you didn’t purchase this car only for tonight.”

  His mouth opened, but it closed again into the curve of a grin. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that with a straight face.”

  Bloody hell. “I’m not so practical I wouldn’t have ridden in a fancy car for one night, Mr. Bassili.”

  “I meant no insult. I just wanted to make you as comfortable as possible this evening.” He held up his hand in a placating manner. “I find that aspect of your personality rare and quite refreshing, actually.”

  Arms crossed, I turned to point my glare out the window as he pulled out onto the street. “So, now you’re mocking me. Splendid.”

  His laughter ruffled the hairs at my nape as the night life of the city went by beyond the window. Being so near him, alone and in a confined space, sent my nerves jittering.

  “I’m not mocking you, Baylou. I tell the absolute truth when I say you’re the most intriguing, fascinating, mysterious woman I’ve ever met, and I’ve met many.”

  Met many—I bet he had. “Tell me where you heard that name and why you call me that.”

  He turned onto County Road Five northbound instead of south as I expected. Most of the hoity-toity of Ironhill lived in mansions along the river there. A lasting silence filled the car as we left the skyscrapers and sidewalks behind in favor of thick evergreen forests. “I managed to locate some of our records after the war took most of us,” he said finally, his tone quiet and cautious. “The conception of a child was a joyous occasion for our k
ind, especially a female, so they were almost always recorded in our collective diaries.

  “In one of the British journals I recovered several years ago, the last entry ever recorded of a jinn birth was in handwriting I don’t recognize, but it describes a child with striking royal blue eyes and hair like a raven’s wing striped with indigo. I’ve been looking for her ever since I learned of her existence, hoping she went unnoticed amidst the chaos of the time.”

  His haunted gaze turned to me. “Her name is Baylou, born in Stourbridge, Great Britain on April 6th during the jinn war.”

  Only one of his words made it through the turbulence in my mind.

  Us.

  He was jinn.

  There were others like me, and records. The implications of that sucked all the oxygen from the vehicle. My mouth gaped open. I dug my fingers into the leather seat to stop my world from spinning about in such a sickening fashion.

  “Let me get out,” I said, yanking at the door handle. “Stop the car!”

  Amun directed the Camry to the side of the barren road lined with nothing but trees on either side. Gasping, I climbed out, forcing air in through my nose to slow my pulse.

  He jumped out and came around to me, reaching out as if to steady me from afar. “I’m sorry. This isn’t going at all how I planned.”

  “How is this possible?” I leaned my palms against the cold metal, allowing my head to fall forward with dizziness. “I was certain I was the only one left. How did you survive? How many are there? How have you gone undetected all this time?”

  The shift of fabric accompanied his appearance, crouched to my right. He gazed up at me with troubled eyes. “Please get back into the car. I know Isaac is watching you, and I won’t risk your life by speaking of secrets out here in the open. I promise I’ll tell you everything in a kinder manner, to give you time to digest it all. Somewhere it’s safe for us to talk.”

  With effort, I straightened and brushed the dust off my hands. “I need to know one thing.”

  Nodding, he rose to his full height. “I promise no one outside of our people knows about you. I had a friend deliver the flowers from a shop we collectively own. As I said in the note, his name is Elias.”

  The boy was jinn. Was that why my arms still ached to protect him? A strain in my eyes suggested my pupils were at full dilation as I stared at Amun. “How did you know what I’d ask?”

  “It’s the primary fear we all share, Baylou—discovery. I didn’t want to worry you, but I needed to be sure you’d come. For years, I’ve been trying to let you know about us, but…” He chuckled and passed fingers through his hair. “You didn’t exactly make it easy for me to break this to you over dinner or a few drinks.”

  Half-numb, I settled back into the seat while he shut me in and climbed in the other side. I gripped the armrest until my knuckles paled as we returned to the road and carried on.

  “I’d very much like to know what I did that night at the policeman’s ball that made you hate me so much.” He glanced at me and back to the countryside beyond the windshield. “Every time I replay the events, I think I was quite charming when I asked you to dance.” When I said nothing, he chuckled. “By the way you glowered at me, one might have thought I’d asked to make love to you on the bandstand, instead.”

  “It’s your manner that offends me, Mr. Bassili. You might as well walk around with your cock in your hand, offering it to the nearest warm body. And now, you, with your heart supposedly stolen by some bimbo, are here flirting with me when my mind is chaos.”

  I jammed a finger near his face. The dirt on the floor jittered in response to my rising power. “How dare you? You knew what I was all this time, and you said nothing. Do you know what it’s like to wander around in the world alone, wondering where I came from? Keeping myself isolated so others won’t question my origins? So they won’t destroy me because of what I am? My mum lost her mind at the abomination she bore and left me, too. My own mother thinks I’m tainted and evil, so how can anyone else accept what I am?”

  “You’re not an abomination, Baylou, and about as far from evil as one can get.” His stare conveyed harsh resolution.

  When I realized how wet my face had become, I turned back to the window, a painful ache settling into my chest. I pushed my emotions down before they exploded and cracked the road open beneath the car. Although I’d never voiced any of that before, in my heart I knew it was true. The world viewed me as a horror, the one and true monster. “I think it’s time you took me home. The thought of being near you any longer makes me ill.”

  “No, not yet. So many times I wanted to tell you, but it’s not something I could just say over the phone or in a public place.” He sighed and shifted enough his seat squeaked. “I should have tried harder, I suppose. I do know what it’s like to be alone and afraid.”

  Who is this man? So different from his public persona, I didn’t recognize the soft-spoken gentleman who almost cowered with a sense of vulnerability. I peered at him over my shoulder, wiping my eyes clear of tears.

  My anger wasn’t entirely for him, more for myself. I hadn’t given him a chance to explain himself because I’d been afraid of my attraction to him. Getting close to someone I could never be entirely honest with would have killed another piece of me each time I had to lie.

  “I shouldn’t have been so rude. I’m angry with myself because you’re right. I didn’t give you a chance to speak, and I don’t hate you.”

  His shoulders came down from their tensed heights. “I’m still sorry I didn’t try harder. Maybe I should have just kidnapped you a long time ago and been done with it.”

  I gave a small laugh that lightened my mood somewhat.

  “And for the record, it’s you who captured my heart the first night I laid eyes on you. That you saw the news clip and it bothered you gives me hope.” A wistful smile lit his face.

  Shock hit me like a base note, along with a sense of relief I couldn’t explain. “Hope all you like, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m not going to date you.” My ridiculous grin lent little weight to the statement. “Why are you so different?”

  “Different?”

  “Yes, different. Is this the real Amun Bassili without the microphone and spotlights? Or is he the real you and now you’re being who you think I want you to be?”

  He cleared his throat and gripped the wheel harder. “Being before crowds and cameras for so long, a certain persona is expected of me. Everyone seemed to like that person I’d become, so it naturally comes out, especially when I’m nervous. With you, I decided that maybe that’s the reason you dislike me, and perhaps you might find the man behind the curtain more to your liking, without all the put-on charm and cocksureness.”

  I smiled at him, making more sense of Amun than I ever had before. “We’ll see.”

  A more amicable silence lingered between us the rest of the way to Amun’s house, which turned out to be a ranch-style spread in the middle of a wooded lot set back far from the road. A red barn stood beyond with a few horses grazing in the field beside it.

  His home wasn’t at all what I imagined he’d live in. If I’d known before we left he intended to take me to his home—alone—I’d never have climbed into his car, but with the delicate nature of our conversation, I welcomed it.

  As Amun turned off the car, I got out and went to the fence enclosing the horses, two chestnut mares and a striking pinto.

  “Beautiful, aren’t they?” he asked, leaning his forearms on the wooden rail beside me. A pleasant sort of peace softened his features in the twilight as he stared with obvious adoration at his animals.

  “Yes, they’re magnificent. Such lovely coats.”

  “Do you ride?” His gaze turned on me, the adoration still present in them causing me to take a step back.

  I giggled at the absurdity of that and moved away. “I’ve never been on a horse.” Quite frankly, the very idea scared me skinny, putting myself at the mercy of such a powerful beast. I’d rather stand on fir
m ground and go toe-to-toe with a testy vampire lord than be high up on a horse I had no hope of reasoning with.

  One of Amun’s black curls fell forward as he leaned toward me, wearing a knowing grin. “We’ll have to change that very soon, then.”

  Not bloody likely.

  He turned toward the ranch style house—wrapped entirely with a large veranda—waving for me to join him. “Our supper should be nearly ready. I’ll give you a tour before we tuck in if you’d like.”

  I followed, though at a slower pace. If I’d known we’d be walking on gravel, I wouldn’t have worn three-inch spiked heels. When he slowed and offered his arm, I took it, holding my clutch purse in the opposite hand. “I’d just like you to answer some of my questions before they drive me mad, if it’s all the same to you.”

  His free hand slipped over mine, and he smiled, eliciting a flock of winged pleasure to let loose in my midsection. “As you wish, my lady.”

  Upon reaching the solid wood of the veranda, I took my hand back. “Please don’t be so bold as to think I’m your anything, Amun, and certainly not your lady. I barely know you. Even now I take you on your word alone.” I gestured toward his screen door where the enticing scent of roasting chicken wafted out. “For all I know, you’re not what you say you are, and you have an assassination squad in there waiting to blow me to bits.”

  His hand went to his belly as he laughed, a bright burst of sound that might have enticed my own if I hadn’t been so nervous to be alone with him. “Shall I go in first to make sure they’re armed?” His mocking tone did nothing to ease my worry. “We wouldn’t want you to escape and wreak havoc upon the city, now would we?”

  “That’s not funny.”

  The sound of splashing came from beyond the barn. I grabbed for his arm and put a finger to my lips to quiet him.

  “What is it?” he mouthed.

  Trouble. What else was new?