by Bonnie Lamer
He has also decided to make himself more comfortable. The white jacket is gone. The tight, chocolate brown collared shirt he has on does nothing to hide the bulging muscles underneath. Whatever connection I have to this Malik guy isn’t affecting my enjoyment of Roman’s muscles sliding under his shirt like a stalking cat. My eyes open wider as I watch him move around the room. He looks casually at me, expecting to see me sleeping, but instead catches me staring at him and one side of his lips turns up in a knowing smile.
With a body like that, he probably gets stared at by women a lot, but I don’t need to be one of them. That’s it. I don’t need to embarrass myself like this. I’m taking a nap. I finally give in to my drooping eyelids and I’m almost immediately asleep.
It seems only an instant later when the smell of bubbling cheese and marinara sauce dances around my nostrils. I wake up to find Brielle holding a plate right in front of my face. “Eat,” she says, dropping the plate on my stomach.
“Did your parents beat you? Is that why you act like this?” I ask in a sleepy voice, sliding the plate onto the bed so I can try to sit up.
“Only when I begged them to,” she replies before biting into a slice of hot pizza.
“Let me help you,” Roman says. He pushes pillows behind my back so I am at least half sitting and won’t choke on my pizza.
“Thanks,” I say, trying not to look at him below the neck. Since he’s standing, that’s a little difficult. I’m relieved when he walks away. However, that relief is short-lived when he returns only seconds later with his own slice of pizza. He tips over a milk crate of clothes, dumping them on the floor and then sits down on it next to the bed.
“Hey! Those were clean,” Brielle says, trying to bore a hole through his head with a death stare.
Roman picks up a t-shirt that has an obvious coffee stain on it and raises his brows in her direction. “Clean enough,” Brielle grumbles. Roman chuckles and lets the shirt fall to the floor.
We eat our pizza in silence until Brielle’s computer starts to beep. A lot. She swings around in her chair to look at her monitors. It doesn’t surprise me when she says with a mouthful of pizza, “Damn it!” and slams her fist on the desk. Her fingers start flying on her keyboard.
I really want to ask what’s going on but I know she’d just take out her anger on me if I open my mouth. I stay quiet, hoping she’ll share what’s going on without being asked. Roman is scowling in her direction, but he seems to be abiding by the same philosophy. It’s several minutes before she deigns to enlighten us.
She spins around to us. “Do you want the bad news or the really f-ing bad news first?”
“You pick,” Roman says. Personally, I think both things she’s going to tell us are going to end up being really f-ing bad.
“Jack’s lead on a set of copper tea pots fell through.”
I’m confused why that’s bad news. “Not quite sure how that affects us. If we get out of this alive, I’ll buy you a copper tea pot.”
Brielle crosses her arms over her chest. “Really? Will you? You’ll find me a copper tea pot that’s actually made out of copper instead of a copper alloy or just copper plated stainless steel?”
What is her problem? “Sure. A pure copper one.” Should be easy enough to find on ebay.
She laughs but she’s not amused. “You have no idea how hard it is to find something that’s made only of copper, do you?”
Whatever. She’s looking at me like I’m fucking stupid. I’m a med student for god’s sake. Give me some credit. On the other hand, I don’t know how hard it is to find something made of pure copper. “I guess not.”
“You mentioned earlier that you bind the djinn with copper. I am assuming this has something to do with that?” Roman drawls, not interested in Brielle’s drama.
“Look at you moving up to the head of the class,” she says.
I shake my head. “You get hit a lot, don’t you?”
She ignores me. “Anyway, copper isn’t as easy to come by as you might think. They don’t make real copper pots anymore. Or lamps or oil holders or anything. It’s all some sort of alloy or copper plating. So I rely on Jack to get me what I need.” I’m betting Jack doesn’t come by these things legally.
“You have to have a new copper object for each of the djinn you catch?” Brielle opens her mouth to say something caustic, but I cut her off. “Yeah, I know. Now I’m the brains of the bunch. Will you please stop being such an ass and just tell us what we need to know? You’ve had years to deal with all this and we’ve had about an hour and a half.” Maybe a little longer, but who’s doing the math.
She is itching to say something nasty, but manages to refrain. “Yes, you need a new copper something for each djinni.”
“Djinni? It thought it was djinn.”
I get an eye roll but she explains. “Djinn is plural. Djinni is singular.”
“Good to know. What do you do with the copper after you bind it to a djinni?”
“I’ll show you.” Brielle rises from her chair and goes to the refrigerator. Grabbing ahold of its sides, she starts rocking it back and forth, inching it away from the wall. Roman and I sit in a dumbfounded silence. She hides them behind her refrigerator?
When it’s far enough from the wall, Brielle pushes a button on the back of the fridge and a panel in the wall opens up. Behind it are three shelves filled with copper items. I’m impressed to think that she’s fought that many djinn and succeeded in throwing them back behind the veil.
“If the djinn are back where they should be, why do you have to keep these items?” Roman asks.
Brielle closes the sliding door. “Because whoever binds the djinni to copper controls him. Or her.”
This is getting interesting. “What do you mean, control them?”
She pushes the refrigerator back in place and sits down in her chair again. “I mean control them. If they come back to this side of the veil, they have to do whatever I say.”
That doesn’t seem so bad. “Can they grant wishes?” I expect her to mock me for that question.
She doesn’t. “Sort of, but not in the manner that you think. They can’t just snap their fingers like in the movies and have that wish come true. Almost all wishes come with a price. For example, if I asked one of my bound djinn for a million dollars, he would acquire it for me, but would do it by robbing a bank and leaving my finger prints at the crime scene.”
Dirty bastards. “So it’s a ‘be careful what you wish for’ thing with them.”
She nods grimly. “Yeah. Some people find that out the hard way.”
“Have you ever asked for anything from the djinn you control?” Roman asks. He’s just as fascinated as I am.
Brielle shakes her head. “That was the first thing Malik taught me. No matter what they say, what they promise, never trust a djinni.”
Sounds like good advice. An interesting thought pops into my head. “Do you personally control those djinn or is it whoever possesses the copper object?”
“Whoever has the copper controls them,” Romans says.
Brielle’s brows slam together. “How do you know that?”
“Why else would you keep them hidden?”
“I’m going to call you Sherlock from now on,” Brielle says drily. Roman glowers at her.
I’m going to try to move this conversation forward before it deteriorates any further. “Was that the bad news or the f-ing bad news?”
“That was the bad news. The really bad news is that the good doctor’s cell phone was pinged before it was even turned on.”
“How is that possible?” Roman asks.
“Do you have a GPS system in it?” Brielle asks.
His face darkens slightly. Is he blushing? “Yes. Of course. It’s an iPhone™.”
Expecting her to give another snarky comment about Roman’s phone, Brielle surprises me by saying, “One of the nurses probably told the djinn in the hospital who ran off with her.” She nods her head in my direction. “I hadn’
t thought of that. Again, I should have asked you a long time ago if you had a phone.”
Considering they were armed and scary looking, I can’t blame whoever told them. “Does that mean they know where we are?” I ask.
“Bingo.”
“Then shouldn’t we leave?”
Surprisingly, she shakes her head. “No. They won’t attack during the day. They’ll wait until nightfall so they can be in their true form as much as possible.”
“It seems leaving while the sun’s still in the sky would be the smart move then,” Roman says.
“Just because they won’t attack until dark doesn’t mean they’re not watching the building,” Brielle counters. “They’d be on our tail as soon as I pulled out of the garage.”
Valid point. “Then what do we do?” I ask. I really hope her response is not stay and fight.
Brielle smiles sadly. “We wait until they come and I’ll create a diversion that will give us time to get away.”
It dawns on me what that means for her. “And you leave pretty much everything you have behind.”
Brielle snorts. “Do you see anything around here worth keeping?” She’s trying for a brave front but I can see through it. I bet everything in this apartment means something to her.
“I will help you pack up whatever you want to take,” Roman says, rising from the crate he’s sitting on. I’d offer to help, but considering my mobility issues at the moment, I’m more help if I just stay out of their way.
“Eat your pizza. We have time,” Brielle tells him. She picks up her plate and takes a big bite of pizza loaded with pineapple. She closes her eyes as if it’s the best thing she ever tasted but I can see a tear slide down her cheek. Just one though. I’m surprised she let that one slip out.
“How did you know they found us?” I ask.
Her mouth is full so she points her thumb towards her computer then holds a finger up in a ‘just a minute’ gesture. I appreciate her not responding verbally while her mouth is full again. After a big swallow, she says, “Infrared surveillance cameras. The djinn emit less heat than a human does. My cameras are programmed to alert me if they sense anyone near the building with a body temperature less than ninety-eight degrees.”
Roman scowls. “Just because the average human temp is ninety-eight doesn’t mean everyone runs that way. There are many people who naturally run a little cooler. That doesn’t necessarily make them djinn.”
Brielle glowers at him. “Which is why I haven’t put up semiautomatics that would open fire at the first sign of a low body temp.” Roman sits back and does his own glowering. When she’s sure he’s not going to interrupt her anymore, she continues. “If the cameras pick up a low body temp, it activates an increase in the sine wave intensity. The djinn are pretty obvious to recognize once that happens.” Yeah, the blood leaking from their ears and eyes thing would be a dead giveaway.
She takes another bite of pizza and then says with her mouth full, “And I recognized them from the hospital.”
I shake my head and laugh. “Very high tech of you.” Brielle shrugs and smiles around her food. A new thought strikes me. “No offense to your fiscal resourcefulness, but how did you afford all this stuff?” All the electronics and weapons in here would have cost a fortune. Unless she stole them. Great, she could be a wanted felon. Maybe I don’t really want to know after all.
She can tell what I’m thinking. “I bought it.” Her eyes are daring us to say something different.
That is as much information as she’s willing to give at the moment. She pops the last bite of pizza into her mouth and stands up. Wiping her greasy hands on her jeans, she says, “C’mon muscles, let’s get this party started.”
Chapter 11 – Moving Out
I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep when I feel Roman’s hand on my arm. He’s sitting next to me on the bed. My first instinct is to recoil, but when I open my eyes to his blue ones, I want to pull him closer and feel for myself how muscular he is. A small furrow in his brow tells me that he’s picked up on my conflicted emotions.
Taking his hand off my arm, he stands and places a small pile of clothes on the bed next to me. “Brielle was nice enough to find some clothes for you. You’re about the same size.”
Thank god. It hasn’t slipped my mind that I’m still wearing a hospital gown, though I’m nervous about how real clothes are going to feel against my injured skin. Guess I’ll find out soon, but how am I going to get dressed? I don’t quite have the range of motion that I used to have before leaving half my skin on a dark road.
Roman raises a brow as he looks down on me. A blush skates across my face. I know what he’s waiting for me to ask. It’s him or Brielle. I suspect Roman will be gentler. “Will you please help me get dressed?”
I have to give him credit. Only the tiniest smirk dances on his lips. I think he’s going to enjoy this way too much. This being helpless crap sucks.
Roman helps me sit up and then reaches behind me to untie the string around my neck. The only one holding my hospital gown in place. The gown begins to slide down over my breasts, but I catch it before I’m exposed. This earns me another eyebrow raise. “Are you planning to wear your shirt over that?” he asks.
Maybe. If that means I don’t have to show him my breasts. Dammit. There’s no getting around this. I let the gown fall to my waist, exposing my breasts for him to see. I feel even more blood rush to my cheeks. It dawns on me that this probably isn’t the first time for him. I’m sure my clothes were cut off the night I was brought to the hospital.
I avoid eye contact, but I can feel Roman’s eyes taking in every inch of my naked skin. He’s also taking an extraordinarily long time to unfold the shirt in his hands and slip it over my head. When he finally does, he helps me get my arms inside and I get goose bumps down them when his fingers graze the sides of my naked breasts. I meet his eyes now and his are like blue fire. I quickly look away.
I guess I’m going commando because Brielle didn’t give me any underwear. That’s okay. I don’t like the idea of sharing underwear with her any more than she does. Roman slips off the little hospital booties I have on and slides the pants up my legs. I have to lift my hips up as he slides them to my waist and I try hard not to focus on the sexuality of our movements. His fingers gently tug the pants in place and he runs his fingers around the waistband until they find the snap and zipper, leaving a trail of goose bumps. Then every iota of sexual tension is stomped into oblivion when he catches several of my pubic hairs in the zipper.
“Son of a bitch, that hurt!” I push his hands away and yank the zipper back down, taking several more hairs with it. My god, this is worse than waxing! If I’m going to be going commando then maybe it’s time for a Brazilian waxing or shaving. I wonder if Brielle would loan me her razor. Probably not.
“Smooth move, Doc,” Brielle says from behind him. “That little flirty thing you had going on kinda bit the dust, huh?”
Roman turns toward her. “I was simply helping her get dressed.”
Brielle smirks. “Looked more like shaving her pubes to me. Here, put this in the jeep.” She hands him a box that looks like it would take up the whole back of the jeep.
“I don’t think anything else will fit. The cargo area is already jam packed,” he says.
“Then put it in the front seat since you get to play doctor with the sickie in the back seat.”
“I’m not sick,” I snap. “I’m injured. There’s a difference.”
Brielle rolls her eyes. “Either way, you’re still an invalid.”
“She’s not fully dressed yet,” Roman says, indicating the socks and shoes he had placed on the bed.
“Go,” Brielle says, shooing him with her hands. “I’ll put her majesty’s shoes on.”
Roman shoots her a doubtful look, but then turns to take the box to the jeep. Brielle kneels down next to me and starts tugging a sock over my foot. “So the doc has it bad for you. Was there some hanky-panky going on in the hospital? Seem
s like that would be against hospital policy.”
“No, there wasn’t any hanky-panky going on. I’ve been in a coma until today.”
Brielle chuckles. “That you know of then.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“So, what’s your deal with him? He’s like man candy and testosterone all wrapped up in a pretty bow for you and you act like you don’t even like him half the time.”
I give her a dirty look when she looks up at me, waiting for an answer. “I’ve been awake for a matter of hours. Excuse me if I don’t want to crawl into your bed and fuck him quite yet.”
“Quite yet, huh. Sounds like you’re waiting for the right minute to jump him. And I already told you, my bed’s off limits.”
