Stifled (Summoned Book 2) Page 19

  She moves forward and nudges me into a niche in the rocks. She sidles up inside it too, less than a foot away from me, and draws her knees to her chest.

  I stare into the darkness. The fresh earthy scent and the deep rushing sound of the river lingers in the air, but I can't see far past our hideout.

  I rub my arms with my hands, but it doesn't do much to combat the growing iciness. I probably should get moving, but I have no inclination to leave yet. I'm not sure how I'm going to climb out of the gorge. I don't know if Shadi and Fahim are still looking for me. But perhaps greater than all of that, I doubt I will ever get another chance to speak with Kalila.

  “Are you a real genie? You know, the magical kind?”

  She shakes her head with the slightest movement.

  No magic. We're all screwed.

  I take a deep breath. “Did you kill Ian?”

  Her eyes dart at me like I shouldn't let on I know her secrets, even though we both know what I saw. She shakes her head.

  “Are you taking your own revenge?”

  Her frown deepens, and she shakes her head again.

  My heart sinks. Part of me, maybe all of me, hoped she was. That one of us was finally turning the tables.

  I shift around to face her. “Who is your master?”

  Her eyes look away. She's not going to tell me. Maybe she's not allowed to.

  “Is he good to you?”

  She knows what I mean. Everything under the genie bond is relative.

  The pain on her face darkens, and my heart plummets like I just did off that bridge. I have an overwhelming urge to badger her until she caves and tells me who her master is. Then I can track down the entire family line and kill them off, one-by-one, until they free her.

  But it doesn't work like that anymore. Pinocchio is a real boy now, and the legal system wouldn't think twice about throwing him in the slammer for life. If I had proof, some way to show the world what is happening, I would blow this whole charade sky high.

  I've got nothing.

  Kalila composes herself and peers out of the niche. She looks to either side, then straight up. I can't see much, but maybe the jinn have better eyesight.

  She climbs out and gestures for me to join her. My teeth are still chattering. I raise to my feet, fold my arms against my chest for a little warmth, and follow after her.

  As we walk, the wind batters against me, sneaking under all of my cold, wet clothes. My skin feels like a layer of sleet should be forming over it. Even my hair leaves freezing little tracks when it touches my face.

  Kalila picks a path through the rocks and brush. I stumble after her, shoes squishing with each step. Then I catch she is wearing sandals.

  I shake my head and tell myself to toughen up. The more I try to hurry, the faster she goes until she's practically running. I jog after her, puffing for breath. The air stings my lungs.

  Her path leads us up an incline and eventually to the top of the ravine.

  I'm shaking hard enough I want to collapse on the ground. My feet are numb. My teeth won't stop chattering even though I try clamping my jaw shut.

  Kalila takes off into the woods.

  I dart after her, gasping between words, “Hold on! Jesus Christ!”

  She slows to a halt and turns to wait for me to catch up.

  “You run too fast,” I stammer, and wrap my arms tighter to stave off the chill.

  The cold is on me though. My clothes, my skin. I need to get somewhere warm.

  “Sorry. I've spent a lot of time out here.” She starts walking.

  I follow her, trying not to be suspicious that she might actually lead me back to JiNet.

  My own efforts in the woods didn't turn out so hot, though. I don't have many choices but to tag along and hope she isn't fulfilling a wish.

  Then I notice a clearing of charred stumps, and my mind relaxes a little. Within a few minutes, we're on the dirt road. My car is waiting for me.

  I turn back to her.

  Between shivers, I stutter over my words. “Don't let them. Don't let them convince you that you're something you aren't. We aren't the criminals. The murderers. The monsters. Maybe you can't speak, but you don't have to be stifled. Make them hear you.”

  She stares at me without any indication she understood anything I said. The concept is churning in her brain. It's a foreign thought, and it will take a while to digest.

  It's still churning in my brain too.

  I turn around and head toward my car. Footsteps crunch behind me. I glance back as Kalila disappears into the woods.

  I cram my stiff, numb fingers into my pants pocket and work out the keys. Somehow, I managed to lose them while hiding in a closet, but not while being tossed around in the rapids.

  They slip from my grasp and clank to the dirt. I lean down to pick them up, muscles and skin and bones and even a few organs protesting. I feel like I was the hacky sack in a hacky sack competition.

  Voices whisper just beyond the tree line. I straighten up and creep toward the side of the road. With a shaky hand, I push aside tall brush and squint to see.

  Kalila is strolling away in the glow of the moon. I dare a step into the brush, then another. My body continues to shake, both from the cold and now from nerves.

  “Don't worry,” Kalila says to someone lost in the shadows. “Just ask her to break it.”

  I trail her, timing my footfalls with hers to help mask the sounds. It's not an exact science, but she doesn't seem to notice me.

  There's a break in the tree cover, and the moonlight reveals Kalila walking side-by-side with Shadi. They come to a halt and face each other. Their voices lower to a murmur.

  Kalila smiles up at him. He strokes her hair, then leans in and kisses her.

  After a minute, they part ways and disappear into the woods.

  ***

  On the drive back to Tulsa, I strip out of everything but boxers and crank the heat. Most of the trip is through rural area, so at worst, I might give a semi-truck driver something to tell his buddies on the CB. That's a fair trade for not dying of pneumonia.

  The silence is annoying, but I can't call Syd because I lost my phone, and the radio is hit or miss in these parts.

  My eyes burn with exhaustion for the first half of the trip, then barely stay open for the second half. The car swerves all over the road, but I don't worry much about it until I reach Tulsa.

  Then I sit straight and roll down the window. The air is still cool, but I'm mostly dry. The breeze wakes me up enough to get through the last leg of the trip.

  At long last, the hotel comes into view. I turn in, glance at the soggy clothes on the passenger floorboard, then shrug and step out of the car. At this point, I wouldn't even care if they were filming live news in the parking lot.

  I stare at the hotel room door, trying to remember if I have the right one or if I transposed numbers.

  Brain shutdown in three. . .two. . .

  I knock on the door. Shuffling noises issue from inside, then Syd pulls open the door.

  Her head drops with her gaze. “Where the hell are your clothes?”

  “Ah, never mind that.” I push past her, the heat of the room wrapping around my numb body. “You should see your car.”

  “Dimitri!” She slams the door and spins around to face me. “What did you do to my car this time?”

  “Nothing. Just screwin' with ya.” I offer her the keys.

  She snatches them from my hands.

  I drop into a chair. “Seriously, I hurt.”

  “You do look banged up.”

  “Well, at least I don't look like I got busted sneaking around the divan, jumped out of a loft window, got lost in the woods, fell off a broken bridge and down a gorge, landed in a river, and got saved by the female jinn. That would be pretty horrific.”

  She stares at me. Dumbly.

  “Her name is Kalila.”

  Syd sputters, then finally says, “Who does she belong to?”

  I shrug. “Does it even mat
ter? The jinn are treated like dirt by everyone. We're all screwed.”

  Someone knocks on the door. We both jump. Syd crosses the room and throws open the door.

  “What the hell do you think you're doing, little girl?”

  It's Lyle. He followed me here.

  I bolt to my feet.

  “I didn't. . .” Syd glances back at me.

  “Leave her out of it.” I come up behind her. She didn't send me.”

  Lyle glances at me with a sneer, then locks his sight on her again.

  “Whatever the hell is going on between you two is disgusting and unnatural.” He gets up in her face. “Keep your jinn on a shorter leash, bitch.”

  He grabs her arm. I nudge her aside and smash him in the face. He stumbles back.

  I storm toward him. “You ever touch Syd again, you or any of your shit garglers, and I'll break parts of you that you didn't know you had.”

  His hand goes to his finger. I look down. He's touching one his rings. It's engraved and, though I can't make out the marking, I would bet it's a sigil.

  He hadn't been wringing his hands at the barn; he had been summoning Fahim.

  “You call your jinn,” I say, pushing up on him, “and I will slit his damn throat. A dead jinn is a useless jinn.”

  Lyle folds his arms over his chest. He's trying not to look intimidated, but his eyes dart between me and Syd. He's never seen a jinn take it upon himself to defend his master. That should speak volumes about how wrong JiNet has everything.

  I try not to show my exhaustion. I'm half his size, still only in boxers, and sporting a myriad of injuries. If he decides to try to take me down, he will do it in a nanosecond—and succeed.

  I scowl and clench my fist. My gaze gravitates to the jinn ring. It's a thick gold band, simple and blank except for the sigil. It looks just like the ring next to it on his middle finger.

  I stop short.

  He has two jinn rings.

  Lyle interrupts my thoughts. “I will track every move your slut makes for the rest of her life. She can thank you for that.”

  He turns and stalks away. I itch to go after him, but I hang back. He climbs into his car and pulls onto the road, then he's gone.

  I spin around to face Syd. She's standing in the doorway, grappling for her mild-expression mask.

  I gesture her inside and shut the door behind us. “Where's that GPS from Fiona's car?”

  “On the table.” Syd picks it up and hands it to me. “I'll pack.”

  I flip through the GPS, then set it aside to grab clean clothes from my luggage.

  I start dressing. “I'll be back in an hour. Please be ready to roll.”

  Her head jerks up to look at me. “Where are you going?”

  “To find out what sort of bullshit Lyle Gardner is up to.”

  Fiona's “Tulsa House” is just outside of town, and it's a cabin. The sort of cabin rich people own. Two stories, stone accent walls, wraparound deck with Jacuzzi.

  I pound up the steps lit by bright front lamps and knock on the front door. At least I don't have to pretend to be a ninja anymore. My cover is blown.

  I expect a maid to answer the door. Instead, it's Shadi.

  “Just the jacknut I wanted to see.” I grab his arm and yank him outside.

  He starts to protest. I shove him aside and pull the door closed. He stumbles, then catches himself against the deck railing.

  I turn to him. “Is Lyle Kalila's master?”

  He lunges for me. I sidestep, and he crashes into a patio chair. Fiona must have recanted the wish. No genie with the hum would be that easy.

  “Come on, Calvin Klein.” I tug him to his feet. “Just tell me what Lyle is having her do.”

  “Screw you! Give me back the vase!” Shadi makes a move for me again.

  “Wait, wait.” I put up my hands. “The vase is missing?”

  My brain tries to process what is going on, but goes belly up. I find myself staring at Shadi.

  “Don't act like you didn't lift it at the get-together in Phoenix.” His tone sounds. . .frustrated. Desperate. Pleading.

  I shake my head. “Yeah, I saw the vase at Fiona's house, but I didn't take it. Lyle probably did.”

  Shadi glances into the surrounding trees then back at me. “No, we were keeping it for him. He wouldn't have to steal it.”

  “Well, whose vase was it? Obviously they might want it back.”

  “I don't know.”

  I would call him out for lying, but I remember this game too well: masters give commands, genies obey, no unnecessary information is exchanged. For all their laughing and hanging out over beers, these master and jinn aren't any different.

  Hell, Fiona probably dresses up Shadi, like other rich people dress up little dogs.

  “Fiona's gone right now,” Shadi says, “but she's breaking the news to Lyle. You know what's going to happen to me if they can't figure out where that vase went?”

  I cringe. The task will be assigned to him to figure out—no matter what. Amazing how resourceful genies become with the threat of impending torture. And that's all the genie bond is.

  “I don't know what happened to it,” I say, and I sound sympathetic because I am.

  If I did have the vase, I would probably hand it over. It doesn't mean anything to me, not in the grand scheme of things. I nearly died in a walk-in freezer while stealing it, but that's as sentimental as the attachment goes.

  Shadi has a horrible few weeks ahead of him. Judging by the look on his face, he's mentally paging through his options and remembering he has none.

  My chest was already heavy. Another pile of bricks was just dumped onto it.

  I say, more to myself than to him, “I know Lyle is Kalila's master.”

  Shadi hesitates, then nods. “And when he dies, she'll be handed over to his son. He's far worse.”

  The bleakness in Shadi's voice makes me want to go back to Italy right now and forget everything I've uncovered since returning to the US.

  I try to come up with a reply, but there's nothing left to say. Instead, I shake my head at him, then make my way down the stairs and toward my car. He goes back inside.

  I reach for my car door. A hand grabs my wrist. I jerk away with a yelp.

  Kalila retracts her arm, her eyes darting toward the cabin. “Shh. Shadi.”

  “Yeah, I know all about you and Shadi,” I grumble.

  He should feel more betrayed than I do, considering his girl helped his target escape. Still, I'm a little slighted my Holy Grail of jinn is boinking the guy who had been sent to kill me.

  Then again, I never knew any other genies. I guess relationships get complicated.

  She looks up at me. “I'll show you something.”

  She grabs the bottom of my shirt and tugs it for me to follow her. I let her lead me through the trees and up a hill to another cabin. It has a high peaked roof, a second story balcony, and a gazebo to the side.

  “Jeez, JiNet is pretty particular about their camping arrangements, aren't they?”

  Kalila throws me a confused, but reassuring, smile and continues to drag me toward the cabin. I would like to put her in my car and take her away from this life. She can live with me and Syd. We'll bring her to Italy, and she can hang out with Zoe and spend her days at the beach.

  The happy thought is underscored with deep bitter lines. She can be summoned from anywhere in the world. She is bonded to the Gardners for life.

  At the front door, she lets go of my shirt and steps back with a gesture for me to enter the cabin. I look around the clearing, but we're alone. So I open the door.

  She pushes past me, flipping on the light as she goes. The living room has vintage furniture and a green Persian rug over wooden floors. The clunk of my shoes resounds against the high ceiling as I follow her through a high-end kitchen with stone walls. We stop at another door, and Kalila gives me an expectant look.

  I pull open the door. The smell sucker punches me right in the face. I stagger back a step.


  “Light is on the left,” she says.

  “What? You expect me to go down there?” I size her up.

  She's shifting weight from one foot to another. There's something in the basement she wants me to see. If the smell is any indication, I will need to decontaminate afterward.

  With a grimace, I descend the steps into darkness. The light switch is to the left, just as she said.

  The switch turns on a single bulb hanging by a chain from the ceiling. Yep, another horror movie scene in the making.

  The smell must have been trapped for at least a decade.

  I cover my nose and mouth with my hand. “My God, what died down here?”

  The stench seems vaguely familiar. My gaze travels over the room. There are no windows, but there's enough crosses on the wall to supply every church this side of the Mississippi. In the corner is a bundle of wadded up, dirty blankets and a re-purposed bucket. A small pedestal sink stands next to it.

  My stomach heaves. Not just from the smell.

  This was a prison.

  My eyes water, and the heaving doesn't stop. I scramble up the stairs, back into the kitchen.

  Kalila is still standing by the door. A few tears trail down her face.

  I slam the door shut. If it had locks, I would fasten them all. Then douse this place in gasoline and burn it to the ground.

  I turn to Kalila. “What was their name?”

  “Hasiba,” she says.

  “She was a jinn?”

  “Not just a jinn,” Kalila says with surprising defiance. “She was my best friend.”

  I have all sorts of feelings right now I don't want to process. Ever. I force them way, way down, stomp on them, lock them in a box, duct tape it, and ship it to Taipei without a return address.

  “I hate killing,” she says.

  “Yeah. Me too,” I say, voice distant, “but some people do deserve to die.”

  A frown tugs at her lips. “But even less deserve to have to kill.”

  She's got a point. Man, does she have a point.

  “I guess there's no way you can talk Lyle out of it?” My question is lame, but I have nothing useful to offer her. Or anyone.

  She shakes her head. “He doesn't listen to us.”