Beyond Your Touch (13 page)

As if struck by the intensity of her words, sparks crackled up from the fire, spraying into the darkening sky.

When they died back, Selena opened her eyes. The lines vanished from her face, replaced by a wicked grin. “Besides, why are we waiting for the men to return from Slovenia before going to the realm? We don't need a cave bear flute.” She turned to Lotli. “Right?”

Lotli shrugged. “Those flutes are powerful, perhaps more than ours. But they are not our tool, the tool of our grandmother and hers before us.” Her fingers stroked the flute tucked into the waistband of her pants. “This is.”

“All righty, then,” I said. “I vote that the five of us put this djinn-realm mission together on our own. We can't let Kate or Olya or even Laura catch wind of this. Or the Professor. I wish we could include him, but he'd go straight to Kate for sure.”

“I'm in,” Tibbs said.

Chase smacked a fist against his thigh. “There's a huge difference here. David and I have been to the realm. We know what to expect. With Lotli and the help of Annie's dad, we can be in and out in no time.”

“That is true,” Lotli said.

The hair on the back of my neck prickled. She'd agreed without hesitation, as if Chase having been in the djinn realm wasn't a surprise.

I narrowed my gaze on him. “I'm not suggesting we all go to the realm. And—since it appears Lotli is fully aware of your situation—maybe it's time to clear the air. I understand this mission won't work without your knowledge of the djinn and Malphic's fortress. You're the most vital link in this whole plan. But you're also the one risking the most.”

His eyes grew dark and for an instant a flash of aura sizzled along his outline. “I don't think any of you understand what it's like in the realm. Malphic may appear human, for the most part. But there are other kinds of genies and things more terrifying than you can imagine, like the lealaps, they're the genie version of a werewolf, and the shadows, of course. There are torture chambers and the Red Desert, haunted by those who've gone berserk.” He hesitated. “Where do you think your mother is, Annie? Do you think she's sitting in a cushy harem surrounded by silk pillows and palm trees? Malphic's fortress is not a sparkly
One Thousand and One Nights
fantasy. Humans are not solid in that realm, like they are here. They are ethereal, like genies are in this world. What do humans do with genies to imprison them?”

A sickening image swept into my mind. In the cellar of Moonhill, somewhere in the labyrinth of treasure rooms, the genies that once stood proudly behind King Solomon's throne now sat imprisoned in jars, like pickled fruits or cucumbers. My hands went to my mouth as my thoughts rushed back to my mother—in ajar, like Solomon's genies. Oh my God.

“That's right,” he said. “That's why I thought that bottle I found in the Coffin was genie-made. It's like the ones Malphic keeps in his harem.”

Selena cringed. “That's awful.”

“That's not the half of it.” Chase strode around the fire, stopping right in front of her. His voice went deadly calm. “They have special clothing for human women complete with stockings that fit over their heads. Magic's woven into the fabric to give their ghostly bodies and faces form. The women have to wear these
robes
when they service their masters or when they appear in public. In the realm, humans are the shadows, sometimes bottled up and left on shelves for centuries, sometimes let out to do their master's bidding.”

Horror and fear for Mother consumed me. What he was saying was almost too unbearable to think about. Yet, I knew Chase. Telling the truth as stark and grim as possible was his way of trying to weaken our resolve, to protect us. But he had to know that while I loved his concern, fear wasn't going to make me back off.

I marched over to where he and Selena stood and took his arm, gently but firmly. “Chase, I get what you're saying. Really, I do.” I looked into his eyes, begging for him to understand. “But we have to get my mother out of there. We can't wait. And she is
my
mom.”

He took my face in his hands, his gaze reaching into my soul. “Your mom is luckier than most. She's developed an ability to maintain solid form for brief periods, the way Malphic and some genies can in our realm, that's why she could slip away to the slave barracks to teach us. If she'd been wearing her
robe,
the guards would have recognized her at once for what she was.”

I blinked at him. “What are you talking about?”

The bonfire's flames died back for a moment, giving way to the whine and sizzle of the red-hot coals. Chase released me. “I'm not saying she's wandering around all the time, she's usually imprisoned like the rest.” He turned so he could see everyone. “I am against endangering any more of us than necessary. But I agree about the older men. I don't think any of them should go to the realm. And I do think the more heads we have working on details, the safer it will be for those of us who do go.”

I bit my tongue to keep my thoughts inside and stole a sideways glance at Tibbs. He nodded. Yeah—
those of us who do go
—by that, Chase meant him and Lotli, and the fact that he was keeping that detail a secret was troubling.

“So”—Chase nodded—“I'm in on this idea.”

Lotli stepped forward. “We will be going no matter what the decision is, but we also agree that it is wiser to leave the older generation out of this.”

Tibbs and Selena added their consent, making it unanimous.

“Don't worry, Lotli,” Selena said. “Kate won't fire you or not pay you for going along with us. Freemonts keep their word, no matter what. Besides, if she even thinks about backing out on the agreement, I'll pay you.”

Lotli dipped her head. “That is between Zea and your aunt.”

Once that was decided the air hummed with excitement. We moved the chairs into a huddle and began making plans, the fire crackling beside us, darkness falling now that the sun had set.

“Malphic holds festivals every full moon,” Chase said. “That will be the best time to go. There will be more guards on watch-duty. But their patrol routes will be predictable, unlike on other nights.”

I thought back to how close to full the moon had looked when I saw it from the widow's walk. “You're talking about two days from now, right?”

Chase nodded. “Exactly. Not long to put a plan together.”

He went on, explaining that no matter who went, they would have to use the Methuselah oil in order to appear solid in the djinn realm. Being ethereal might have sounded wiser, but it wasn't the same as being invisible and it left a person more vulnerable to spells and capture, not to mention unable to do things like open locks. Also, whoever went would want to leave our realm right at sunset since the oil's effects would only last from then until sunrise. Not much time, when all was considered.

“If you go,” Selena said to Chase, “won't they recognize you instantly? I know you're older, but you haven't changed that much.”

The corner of his mouth crept up into a sly grin. “Probably, except most of my face will be covered.”

I eyed him. “Sounds great, but what are you talking about? I mean, is this festival some kind of masquerade?”

He laughed. “Not at all. The realm's not a pleasant place, but it's worse for genies than humans. Everything's salty: the water, the Red Desert, the marshes . . . even the air tastes of it.”

“That weakens their powers, right?” I said.

“Exactly.” He rested his hands on his knees and leaned forward. “Genies believe God threw them out of the Garden of Eden and imprisoned them in a world purposely designed to keep them weak. I believe it's true. Think about it. Genies have powers and physical strength. They should be a more successful race than humans. But they've failed to advance, partly due to their greed and deceitfulness, but also because of the salt.” He sat back. “Anyway, some warriors wear turbans and put black smudge under their eyes. It started as ways to protect against the harsh environment. But it has other purposes: anonymity, intimidation, the colors and designs mark where their allegiance lies. They most often keep their mouths and noses covered to filter out the salt. Some—like Malphic and his guards—can afford to wear magically enhanced scarves around their necks and use them when they need extra strength.”

“Sounds like testosterone overload to me,” Selena said.

Testosterone. Warriors. I reached up to my throat, my fingers closing around the chain that held the signet ring Grandfather had given me. Chase could try to scare the rest of us all he wanted, but mostly it was making me more afraid for him.

Chase turned away and got a beer out of the cooler. “Anyone else want one?”

“I would.” Lotli got up and took it from him. For a second, their eyes met. But this time, I couldn't tell what they were saying to each other.

My stomach knotted.

Lotli opened her beer and settled back into the chair. “We always believed some genies could never appear as anything other than a shadow. But you made it sound like all genies have solid bodies in their home realm?”

I gave her a sidelong glance. I'd wondered how much she knew about genies. Perhaps it was more than she'd let on, but obviously she didn't know everything.

“I didn't mean to mislead you,” Chase said. “There are a lot of variables when it comes to genies and half genies. But don't worry about that. If our timing's right, the only ones we'll run into are maybe one or two of Malphic's guards.”

We talked a while longer about all sorts of things: how wealthy genies would send performers and prostitutes to the festival to gain favor from Malphic and other members of the elite, about how the performances rivaled Cirque Du Soleil, how later in the night there was wagering and fights, about the festival wine made from mushrooms and cocoons, and how burned cork could be used for eye smudge . . . about how, no matter who ended up going to the realm, they needed to think long and hard before volunteering. They might not come back.

It was around ten o'clock when Tibbs stretched his legs and got up from his chair. “I've got to get going, check the grounds and stuff. Maybe we can get together again tomorrow and talk strategy—after breakfast in the garage, like around nine or nine thirty?”

“Sounds good to me,” Chase said.

Selena slid her feet into her sneakers. “I have to take off too.” She gave Tibbs a coy smile. “Don't be patrolling too carefully. I have
plans
for later.”

His face lit up and he nodded, eager to do her bidding even though her plans undoubtedly meant she was sneaking out to party with Newt and his friends.

I folded my arms across my chest. “Selena, you do realize you can't tell Newt about any of this.” As soon as the words slipped out, I regretted it.

She scoffed. “Do you think I'm a complete moron?”

“Of course not. I—I'm just hyper-worried about everything. I—” Sweat trickled down my back as I struggled to say something to smooth things over. Yet I couldn't push aside the niggling feeling I'd had about Newt ever since the first time I met him. “You really do need to be careful about him, though. Don't get me wrong. He's never done anything to me. But—”

She cut me off with a disgusted look. “Screw you. Newt's the best.” She glanced at Lotli. “You want to head up to the house with me? Like Tibbs said, we can get together again in the morning.” She lifted her lip, snarling at me. “Like when people are done being assholes.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I just—”

“You just want to be right about everything—the queen almighty.” She snapped her folding chair shut, face red with anger.

Sighing, I turned to Chase and rolled my eyes. But I managed to keep from saying anything else until she and Lotli were halfway up to the cliff top with Tibbs tailing behind them. Then I huffed. “I guess I learned my lesson. But seriously, there's something off about Newt. Don't you think so?”

“I'd let that one go,” Chase said.

I threw my arms out in surrender, then let them drop to my sides. “You're right. I don't even know why I said anything to her.”

Our eyes locked. And suddenly I became keenly aware that we were alone, by a bonfire with a huge white moon rising in the distance. My heart stumbled, longing and sadness twining inside me, a strangling tightness that made breathing impossible. I looked away from him, down at the pebbles beneath my sneakers.

After a long moment, I mumbled, “Thanks for going along with my idea. I'm glad you told me about what it's really like in the realm too. It helps me—” I let my eyes meet his again. This time he looked down. Still, I continued, “It gave me a better idea of what you lived through, makes it easier to . . . I guess it's starting to sink in how important it is for you to focus and keep things under control, to get in the zone without distractions.”

“More than you can imagine,” he said. He folded up a chair and shoved it at me. “Why don't you take this up? I'll deal with the rest of the stuff and put the fire out.”

“Sure, okay,” I said. “If you really don't need any help.”

With the chair weighing down my arms, I walked toward the stairs, slowly, expecting him to—I'm not sure, hoping, maybe deep inside that he'd tell me not to leave, and at the same time knowing that I was doing what was best for us both. Damn. This was hard.

CHAPTER 13

 

—Scratched into a barrack wall

 

 

W
hen I got back to the house, I went straight to Kate's study to see if they'd learned anything new about the Slovenia situation.

Olya and the Professor sat in chairs beside the desk. Kate was on the phone, nodding and talking in a restrained voice. Olya lifted a finger to her lips, signaling for me to stay quiet.

“Yes, thank you. An e-mail confirmation would be nice.” Kate took the phone away from her ear and glowered at me. “We don't have anything new to tell you. I suggest you go to your room and get a decent amount of sleep for a change.”

My hands clenched and it was all I could do to not punch the top of her desk. What gave her the right to dismiss me like a servant? Dad, Grandfather, and Uncle David were my family too. I deserved to hear everything as it came in. And who the hell was she to criticize my sleeping habits? She'd been up before dawn doing spells in the gallery.

I took a deep breath and counted to ten. To hell with them. They weren't worth the effort.

I dismissed them with a wave and flounced out of the room.

It wasn't that late, probably around ten thirty, but the library, dining room, and hallways were already quiet and dark as I scuffled toward my room. On the main staircase, Houdini and two Siamese cats zinged past me.

“Hey, kitty, kitty,” I called, hoping to catch his attention.

He kept chasing his new friends like I was invisible.

“Ungrateful brat,” I grumbled. Well, what did I expect? Cats weren't known for their fidelity. I picked up my pace and swung my arms like everything was zip-a-dee-doo-dah wonderful. But it wasn't—guilt and loneliness tossed inside me and I seriously considered going to Selena's apartment and apologizing. Instead, I waited until I got to my room, then flopped onto the bed and sent her a text.

She answered:

I texted right back:

She had to think I was a total jerk. First freaking out about Chase and Lotli, though the jury was still out on that one. Then mouthing off about Newt. She was probably right. Newt might grow on me if I spent more time with him. Still . . .

Once again my thoughts went back to the first time I'd met him. Something about him had seemed—
incongruent
was the word imprinted on the back of my mind. But I couldn't put a finger on the source of my apprehension. Maybe it was the tattoo inside his left wrist: the outline of a snake twisted up, like a pretzel. Perhaps. But there wasn't really anything unusual about that. Was it the weird fraternal symbol on his bracelet? Maybe.

With a shake of my head, I shoved my apprehension aside. What was wrong with me? Newt was a normal guy. Preppy, rich, and Harvard, just like Selena had told me.

I noticed I had a voice mail. Dad.

Despite the static and breaks I could understand most of his message:

“
Kiddo . . . really a mess here. Hang in there. See what you can get out of that Lotli girl about . . . Got to run . . . David wants me to go with him . . . Home soon. Love, hugs, and kisses.
”

I started to listen to it a second time, his voice sending a warm feeling right to my heart. But when I got to the part about David wanting Dad to go with him, something struck me and my mind jolted back to Selena. Ever since I'd come to live at Moonhill, she'd always asked me
to go with her
on her late-night party runs, even when she was pissed at me. Most of the time, I said
no
. For one thing, after her underage drinking arrest her dad had all but locked her in her room. He'd quickly relented and quit watching her so closely, but I didn't want to get caught in the middle and be accused of corrupting her again.

Tonight, however, for the first time ever, Selena had failed to ask me to go with her.

But she'd left the bonfire with Lotli, like they were best friends.

And if Selena was going to a party, then Chase would be there as well watching from the shadows in his furtive capacity as her bodyguard.

I flung myself off the bed and stomped to the closet. Rooting through my clothes, I snagged a dark-blue hoodie and yanked it on as I raced into the hallway. My flashlight was still in my jeans pocket, but I didn't risk turning it on. I didn't really need it at that moment either. Even my fear of the dark couldn't eclipse my anger.

It took less than five minutes to get outside and check to see if all the ATVs were in the garage. Once I was certain they were, I jogged to the gazebo and knelt in the shadows. A moment later, I heard the soft scrape-crunch of footsteps and spotted Selena and Lotli sneaking in through the garage's side door. They reappeared pushing a silent ATV toward the edge of the yard and the forest trail, exactly the same way Selena and I did it when we went out.

The ATV started up. As its hum faded into the distance, I dug my phone out and checked the time. I'd give them a fifteen- or twenty-minute lead, long enough to get through the woods, down the sand dunes, and to the party before I followed.

Shivering, I pulled my hood up. Fog drifted across the lawns, illuminated by the moonlight. The whoosh of the tide whispered almost beyond my hearing. A rustle came from the garden. I tucked my hands into my pockets, my head replaying the stories Dad had told me about things coming to life in the mist, especially as the Devil's hour approached.

Cold sweat dampened my sides. I leapt to my feet. Enough waiting. It was time to put the ATV driving lesson Selena had given me through a real test.

I sprinted to the garage, punched in the security code. Once inside, I jogged to Tibbs's office to get the keys from the pegboard. They'd taken my favorite ATV and left the faster but more temperamental one.

My hand recoiled from the keys. What was I thinking? I'd kill myself for sure. And, as much as I wanted to pretend I'd conquered my fear of the dark, even the thought of navigating the pitch-black woods on a potholed trail petrified me.

Screw it. I'd do this the smart way.

I snagged the keys to Dad's Mercedes. A minute later, I was winging up the driveway.

When I neared the gate, the headlight beams swept the dark windows of Chase's cottage and haloed the misty outline of his pickup. I would have liked to believe that the unlit windows meant he was home, catching up on his sleep. Unfortunately, it more likely meant he was shadowing Selena—and Lotli.

The memory of the first time I'd gone partying with Selena drifted into my mind. That night, Chase had been in the shadows, watching over us. Newt and Selena had fixed me up with Newt's younger sleazebag brother, Myles. I slipped away from him and ended up sitting on the sand, away from the party, thinking about my dad, when Chase had found me. We'd sat on the beach and talked, and I'd wanted him to kiss me so badly. And when he bent over, his lips warm against mine, my body had gone crazy, craving, needing, wanting him.

I tapped on the Mercedes's brakes, slowing to a stop in front of the gate. That night, if it had been up to me, I'd have had sex right there on the sand with Chase, no question about it. I was certain Lotli would feel the same way if she got the chance tonight.

Shoving the thought from my head, I snagged Dad's tool bag from under the passenger seat and dug out his lock-picking stuff. As I opened the car door a part of me was terrified that someone would see me and ask where I was going and why I hadn't requested the key. It whispered for me to turn around and go back to the mansion. But a less rational voice urged me forward. I trusted Chase, and I was almost sure there was nothing going on. But I had to be certain. Or I'd always wonder.

I took a step toward the gate, but stopped short when I noticed it was already ajar. Strange. Selena had told me it was always locked after sunset.

Just grateful for my luck, I opened the gate all the way, drove out, and closed it behind me. It wasn't until I reached the main road that I realized there was another problem. I could have easily found the beach where Selena and her friends partied by following the ATV trail, but I had no idea how to get there by car.

I headed north. I did know it was up the coast from Moonhill.

After a mile or so, I realized how stupid I was being and swerved into a pull-off. Getting out my phone, I brought up a satellite image of Port St. Claire and studied it. Most of its shoreline was rocky cliffs, but there was one sandy stretch a little north of Moonhill's beach. Best of all, a side road that was only a dozen yards ahead of where I'd parked appeared to go right past that sandy stretch. Perfect.

I crumpled down in my seat.
Chase
. Not trusting him really did feel wrong and horrible. Last winter, me and my best friend Taj's friendship had sizzled into something much hotter, and then nosedived into an arctic-chill, followed by heartache when I discovered he had another girl. Maybe it was me. Maybe I just didn't get this casual-sex-vs.-relationship thing.

No,
I told myself emphatically. This was different. Chase wasn't Taj. And I did trust Chase. But I didn't trust Lotli, no matter what anyone said. An image of her naked, stroking her flute and winding his yarn around it, slithered into my mind. If something was going on, it was her doing. Not his.

The boom of approaching music interrupted my thoughts.

An open-topped jeep packed with guys whizzed out of a low swirl of fog and squealed down the side road. A second later, a truck with chrome pipes did the same thing. I shifted the Mercedes into gear and followed them, down that road and onto a second narrower dirt road.

Summer camps sprung up on either side, decorated Maine-style with lobster traps and old nets. We went past what looked like a boat launch, then nothing but fields and glimpses of the ocean, the flash of a buoy, more mist and fingers of fog.

I gave the steering wheel a celebratory fist bump when I spotted bumper-to-bumper cars and trucks lining the road ahead and spilling onto the shoreline, not to mention the unmistakable thump of music, the glow of a bonfire, and people wandering through the haze with Solo cups and beers.

I scanned the roadside, looking for the perfect parking space. A little out of the way, but not too much. The last thing I wanted was for Selena or anyone I knew to spot the Mercedes, at least not until I had a chance to see what they were up to.

I drove past what looked like the path most people were taking to get to the shore and to where the road became less crowded with cars. On the left were an abandoned garage and a shed with the remains of an old fishing boat poking out of it. I turned the Mercedes around in the garage's weed-covered driveway, then drove back the way I'd come and parked on the edge of the road. This way, when it came time to leave, the car would be pointed in the right direction. It definitely wasn't a parking spot I would have normally chosen. In fact, it might as well have had a sign that read:
Welcome muggers and rapists—get your stupid girl here.

With that in mind, I grabbed my flashlight and gripped it like a cop's baton as I got out of the car. It wasn't big, but it could inflict some serious damage if need be.

I hadn't even made it past the Mercedes's front bumper when the thud of a car door shutting came from near the abandoned garage. That was odd. I hadn't noticed a car when I turned around.

I glanced toward the sound. At first I didn't see anything, then a chunky guy swaggered drunkenly out from the darkness of the garage and into the eerie brightness of the fog and moonlight. He was messing with the front of his jeans. Most likely, he'd wandered in there to take a piss in private.

As he turned my way, I dove for the edge of the road and ducked down next to the Mercedes. The last thing I wanted was to deal with a drunk.

The sound of his shambling footsteps came closer as he made his way along the dirt road toward me. I crouched down even farther, listening to his footfall and the more distant thump of music. My mouth dried. I didn't dare breath. The guy's outline came into view, even with the car's hood. He stopped and let out a loud belch. I wrinkled my nose, my disgust deepening as he began scratching his nuts.

The grumble of an approaching car reached my ears. Its headlights fanned the road, growing brighter, and illuminated the guy as it passed.

Holy freak show!

I slapped my hand over my mouth to keep from making a barfing sound. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't see the guy's face, but I'd have recognized his blubbery ass anywhere. Myles, also known in my book as
numero uno horndog and slime mold
. At least, it looked like him.