Stifled (Summoned Book 2) Page 10

  “Or,” Syd says, “she was resisting a wish.”

  I go quiet, recalling the few times I fought against obeying orders. I know one important thing from that: the growing hum in her head from the genie bond is going to reduce her to a real-life monster sooner or later.

  I wish Ian had told me how he knew she was coming. Seems to me, she has a hit list. Figuring out who and why would answer a lot of questions.

  But Ian is gone, and Lyle can't know we have been snooping around. Our best chance is to find out as much as possible about her targets. And about what would motivate her. She's not a pet. She has an agenda.

  I wonder if she knows what happens when the genie bond doesn't get its way. What it does to us. If not, she's in for one hell of a surprise. If she does, then whatever she's up to, she means business.

  Back at the hotel, Syd falls into an Internet-coma with the laptop at the table. I sit on the vanity and turn one of my guns over in my hand for no real reason.

  Finally, I break the silence. “How long do you think it will be before I have to start earning my keep around the house?”

  Syd looks up at me like she's processing the question. “Oh. You mean the JiNet house?”

  “That's the one.”

  “We'll be out of there before then, no worries.” She looks at the laptop screen again.

  “You sure?” I hop down from the vanity. “Your plans aren't exactly foolproof.”

  She tilts her head at me and lifts her eyebrows. “Coming from who?”

  “Coming from the guy who was a tug rope for an oversized mutt.”

  She quirks her lips. “If I recall, you were a notably lousy genie.”

  “Gee, thanks.” I drop onto the edge of the bed. “Karl made it abundantly clear I sucked at my job. Lucky for you he was right.”

  She straightens.

  “Yeah, I went there,” I say.

  She bats the air. “Jerk.”

  “Whatever. So, you sure we're in and out on this JiNet thing?”

  “Yeah, I just want to meet the divan.” She closes the laptop. “There's nothing about it in the documents.”

  “What in purgatory is the divan?”

  “It's Persian for 'council'.”

  “Ah,” I say. “Nice of them to keep to the roots. Eileena would be pleased.”

  “Yeah, but that brings me another point.” Syd stands and crosses the room to the mini fridge. She pulls out a couple of bottles of water. “I think it's safe to say we have two separate issues. Something is going on with JiNet and the female jinn. They have to be tied together since we found their information at her targets' houses. But then we have the second issue—those guys following us.”

  She hands me one of the bottles. “I still think Eileena is behind them. It just reeks of a Walker tactic, sending a small army after you.”

  “That means we don't really need to track the female jinn anymore,” I say, unscrewing the bottle cap. “If she's not part of Eileena's master plan, then we can skip this whole JiNet thing.”

  “The female jinn is the entire reason we came back to the US, Dim.” Syd frowns down at me. “We can't go home until we know we've lost those guys, and we don't have any leads on Eileena. We might as well see what's going on with JiNet. We're already in.”

  I smirk. “Only if I play well with the others.”

  “I swear to God, if you screw this up. . .” She narrows her eyes. “Just do what I ask, okay?”

  I take a drink to give her time to squirm.

  “Dimitri!”

  I put up my hands. “No worries. Vivo para servir.”

  ***

  Late the next morning, we drive back to San Diego. I want to go scope out the meeting location, but Syd thinks it's too risky. I think that's only if she's driving, but I keep my mouth shut.

  Instead, we wind up at some restaurant where we eat in silence. I kind of miss talkative Syd. I wonder how much more asshattery this relationship can take before we are together only because no one else understands us.

  Maybe we've already reached that point.

  Luckily, our phones provide a great way to pretend we are too busy to pay attention to each other.

  Eventually our plates are empty, and we're obligated to turn off blackjack and word jumble to pay and leave.

  Back on the road, Syd finally speaks. “The meeting house is on the beach.”

  “Their motto could be, 'Sun, surf, and servitude',” I say.

  “Come on, Dim. I told you we're just going to play along for a few days. You won't have to do anything but behave.”

  I don't respond.

  She looks like she's contemplating how to reason with me. She's already got what she wants. Trying to convince me I like the idea is a wasted effort.

  Her shoulders droop. She must have concluded it for herself.

  A short drive later, the ocean comes into view. We find a parking garage and, as Syd pulls in, I check the gun in my jacket pocket.

  “No.” She looks at me. “You can't bring that inside.”

  “Too bad.” I start to step out of the vehicle.

  She grabs the back of my jacket. “Seriously, Dim, leave it in the car.”

  “You didn't say the magic words.” I shake her off and stand, shutting the door behind me. “I won't let anyone see it. Unless it's necessary.”

  She stands and stares at me from over the roof of the car. “And what if they search us?”

  I tip my head back to the garage roof, trying for an answer. Walking around unarmed is a stupid idea. Pissing off a room full of masters and their jinn is a worse idea.

  With a resigned sigh, I tug open the car door and tuck the gun under the passenger seat.

  Syd and I walk wordlessly out of the garage and up the hill toward the beach. A row of houses stand like little side-by-side empires. She leads the way to a two-story building with sharp corners and gray siding.

  People come out onto a balcony facing the ocean. A man leans forward over the white railing to size us up. He turns back to his peers and starts talking, but I can't make out what he is saying. I can guess though.

  At least we're in public and they can't shoot on sight.

  Lyle bursts through the front door and rushes to greet us.

  No, to greet Syd.

  “Did you have any trouble finding the place?” He shakes her hand, then cups her shoulder to lead her toward the house.

  I trail behind.

  “No, not at all,” Syd says. “GPS leads pretty much to your doorstep.”

  He laughs. “Can't beat modern conveniences.”

  Says the guy with a two thousand year old magical bond.

  The fish fork to the face has been upgraded to a pitchfork.

  I follow them inside the house. It's sleek and modern and full of chrome. People are filling up the place, talking and hugging, and circling the chips and dip laid out on the counter. It's a regular house party.

  I halt to survey the attendants. It would be too convenient if Ian was here, so of course he isn't. I don't recognize any of the faces, and no matter how much I would like to easily separate them into two groups, I really can't tell who is master and who is jinn.

  I have no idea how I should feel about that, so I file it away to process later and turn to find Syd.

  Lyle is leading her around to introduce people. She's smiling, drink in hand, doing her thing. I want to be relieved she's blending in so well, but it's just unsettling.

  I glance around the room again. Maybe the jinn split off into another area.

  I probably should stay close to Syd until Lyle says otherwise. JiNet will put me in my place soon enough, I'm sure.

  Someone grabs my arm. I swing around.

  The woman lets go of me and takes a step back.

  “Sorry!” She smiles and holds up her hands.

  She's a slender Oriental woman dressed in a blue, breezy outfit. Her hair is piled up on her head, and she's drop-freakin-dead gorgeous.

  “Are you the new master?”
Her voice is rich and throaty.

  “Uh. . .no.” I point in Syd's general direction. “That would be her.”

  “Oh, thank you.” She smiles again and brushes past me.

  I turn to watch her make her way across the room. She practically glides, with the sheer fabric flowing around her like she has a modeling crew following her around.

  Amazing. Ethereal.

  And probably a master.

  The realization halts any inappropriate thoughts right before embarking.

  She finds Syd, and they engage in conversation like they're friends who haven't seen each other in forever. I roll my eyes and return to trying to guess if any of these visitors are jinn.

  Syd calls my name. I turn and meander through the crowd to where she is gathered with several people, including Lyle.

  “Please excuse us,” Lyle says to the others in the group, then leads the way.

  Syd and I follow him through the kitchen, up a flight of stairs with cushy carpet, and out onto the balcony facing the ocean.

  A few men are sitting around a patio table, drinking from beer bottles.

  “Syd, this is Billy's brother, Tyler.” Lyle gestures toward the heavyset man opposite of us.

  Tyler leans in to take Syd's hand.

  Lyle gestures to the guy next to Tyler, a toned man with a dark complexion. “And this is Anwar.”

  Anwar proceeds to take Syd's hand as well, then goes back to drinking his beer. So there's one of my kind. Side-by-side, I really would have no way of knowing who was master and who was jinn. By all appearances, Tyler and Anwar are equals.

  My brain chugs on the thought for a minute. Then I remind myself there's more to JiNet than just sitting around slamming back lagers. They organize their jinn by what crimes they can commit. That's all I need to know about them.

  Tyler excuses himself and disappears inside the house.

  Anwar scoots two chairs out with his foot under the table. Syd and I sit without even glancing at each other.

  Anwar downs the rest of his beer. “You guys from Phoenix, Lyle said? You know, there's the quarterly gathering there next Friday at Fiona's house. You should stop by. Always a good time.”

  Syd perks up. “We'd love to attend. Fiona seems lovely. Can I get the address?”

  “Sure.” Anwar glances up as Tyler returns with beers to go around.

  I grab mine, twist off the cap, and chug. Syd wants to drive, so I'm going to cop a buzz. This place is kind of creeping me out.

  A man beelines past us to another at the railing. He's tall, broad, tan, and wearing sunglasses that I'm pretty sure are entirely for the cool factor.

  Syd's eyes are like laser sights tracking him.

  I nudge her leg with mine and mutter, “Wanna reel it in a bit?”

  Jeez, at least I wait to ogle when she isn't around.

  She glances at me, then shuffles around her purse and finds her phone.

  Anwar leans back in his chair, tapping Mister Model on the shoulder. “Hey, go get Fiona, will ya?”

  Mister Model waves him off and returns to his conversation with the guy at the railing.

  My phone buzzes in my jacket pocket. I drink my beer and ignore it for a few minutes. I know it's Syd, but there's no point in being completely obvious about the exchange.

  Then I try to act casual as I pull out my phone from my pocket.

  Syd's text says, That's him. That's the jinn from the bank.

  I give her a questioning look. Her jaw tightens, and her hand slips around the neck of her beer bottle.

  “Sorry,” Anwar says. “Shadi is a bit of a dick.”

  Mister Model—Shadi—smacks the back of Anwar's head without even a pause in his conversation.

  Anwar gives him a good-natured jab in the ribs, then turns to Tyler. “We driving out to Phoenix next week or just going straight through?”

  “No, we'll try to swing by Fiona's.” Tyler looks up at Syd. “Has Lyle decided a house for your jinn yet?”

  “Retrieval,” Syd replies, her hand still on the beer bottle though she hasn't drank any yet.

  “Oh? That's my house. My family is looking for a new member.” Tyler turns his gaze to me for the first time. “You the jinn?”

  I nod, even though it feels entirely wrong to talk about this so freely.

  “What experience?”

  “A bit here and there,” I say.

  Do any of these people know I am the Walker's genie? For that matter, do they even know who the Walkers are?

  Tyler studies me then shrugs and drinks his beer.

  I don't comment any further. I won't be working with his house, or any of the houses. For all I care, he can think the only crime I've ever committed is opening the neighbor's mail.

  “Fiona is the Level Two Officer for the retrieval house,” Tyler says to Syd.

  Syd tilts her head. “How do these houses work?”

  “It's pretty straight forward,” he says. “Each house is made up of three families. Each family has a Level One Officer that oversees it. Then each house is led by a Level Two Officer. All the houses are led by the only Level Three Officer, Lyle.”

  I draw the diagram in my head. Lyle is on top, the house leaders are under him, and the family leaders are under the house leaders. Simple enough.

  Syd nods. “So the divan is all of the officers together?”

  “Yep. We get together every quarter to represent our families and houses.”

  Syd starts to ask something else, but Lyle comes up behind her and clears his throat.

  She jumps, dropping her phone.

  “If you and Dimitri could follow me.” He smiles and steps back.

  Syd glances at me, then grabs her phone from the ground and pushes out her chair.

  I keep my aloof disposition. It's working so far. Without a word, I follow her and Lyle inside and down a hallway.

  He opens a door and goes through first, Syd and I right behind him.

  The opposite wall is glass, overlooking the beach. Heavy bookcases line the rest of the room. An enormous mahogany desk stands in the center. On either side of the desk are two high backed chairs.

  Lyle takes one and Syd takes the other. I close the door and stand in front of it, watching. Lyle probably thinks I'm being obedient. Syd might think that too.

  I'm just waiting for the Master of Masters to make a wrong move so I can break his face, tell Syd “I told you so,” and go to the bar to finish off my buzz.

  He pulls a tablet from the desk drawer and begins poking at the screen.

  “As I said before, we are needing to fill a spot in the retrieval house, so we're very eager to start working with you. But—” He places the tablet in front of him and smiles up at me. It's not pleasant. “We aren't looking for a cook. So we need to know he is up to the task.”

  His gaze moves back to Syd.

  “He is,” she says with all the assurance of a drunk at a karaoke bar. “He will be a valuable asset.”

  “Fantastic. I'm sure he will be. That's why we just have a few little tests to run, and then we'll be on our way.”

  I go on alert.

  So does Syd. “What kind of tests?”

  “To get any idea of his skill set. Are you okay with that?”

  “Of course,” Syd says.

  I briefly close my eyes. I didn't agree to any tests.

  “What will he be doing?” Syd turns to glance at me, but I can't read her expression.

  “Break some locks,” Lyle says. “Gather some information. Nothing too elaborate.”

  Syd nods, and returns to her amicable smile.

  “Fantastic.” Lyle hands her the tablet. “Here's the first house. It's right outside L.A. Just need to get in, grab a laptop, and bring it back to me. Easy enough, right?”

  “Yeah, no problem,” Syd says.

  Obviously, she's forgotten I should be up for the Genie With The Most Near Escapes From Death Award.

  Lyle stands, and Syd follows suit. She offers back his tablet.

/>   He puts up his hand. “No, give that to your jinn. I've saved all the task information on there. I would suggest starting tomorrow night.”

  “Yes, of course.” Syd stares at the tablet screen, then walks with him to the door. I step aside.

  She looks up at Lyle. “So these are test facilities?”

  He halts. “Oh, no, I'm sorry I wasn't clear. These are live sites.”

  Everything in the entire friggin' universe stops.

  Finally, Syd blinks. She stares down at the tablet again, studying a picture of a modest house with security screens and window bars. My target. I can tell Syd is trying desperately not to look at me for an answer.

  Lyle doesn't seem to notice. “That's why he should go tomorrow night, while it's vacant. I've also saved all my contact information in the word processor app. Just send me a text from your phone when you can so we are able to reach each other.”

  With that, he opens the door and indicates for us to step out. We do, and he shuts the door right behind us.

  Syd and I still don't dare to look at each other, but we have the same destination in mind: the exit.

  We don't speak as we make our way through the crowd and back outside.

  We don't speak as we walk to the parking garage to get the car.

  We don't speak until we're on the I-5, heading toward L.A.

  “You're mad at me.” Syd's voice is measured.

  I rest my head on the seat and stare out the windshield.

  “I didn't think they would actually test you,” she says, with a peace-making tone.

  I don't know what to say, so I don't say anything.

  She goes silent, her face contorted with distress. I feel no inclination to relieve her of it.

  At length she says, “I can't just ask the JiNet members what they know about Ian Cook and the female jinn hunting him. We have to get involved if we're going to find out. Please don't be angry with me.”

  I would almost swear she is pleading. Then again, I've been wrong about her kind before.

  “Okay,” I say, with all the emotion I'm allowed to have: none.

  “I'm sorry. I really am.”

  I continue to stare out the windshield. “Okay.”

  “I mean, it doesn't look too difficult,” she says. “Look over the files on the tablet. It's just a house out in the middle of nowhere.”