Bound (Secrets of the Djinn) (5 page)

I look up to see Zane practically in tears.  “I’m so sorry,” he whispers.  Are his tears because he feels my pain or he hates seeing me like this?  Right now, I don’t care. 
My own tears are flowing down my cheeks.

Roman swears under his breath.  “This is going to hurt.”  How could it hurt worse than what he’s already done?

I don’t know the how of it, but it does hurt more.  My bones shift, grinding together under my skin.  There’s no pop telling me things are back in place, only a searing pain I feel down to my soul.

“Son of a bitch!” Roman shouts, dropping unceremoniously to the floor, pulling my arm with him
but it doesn’t hurt anymore.  My mind is clouding; a slow fog is rolling in to take away any thoughts of pain, or anything else.

I hear Brielle say,
“Sorry, Doc, but that is fucking wicked.”

“Skye,” Zane shouts
, trying to rouse me from the fog, “put them out!”  My confusion must show in my eyes because he adds, “Your flames.  Put them out!”

My flames?  I crank my head to the side and finally figure out what the problem is.  My flames, the seekers of truth and justice, are alive and dancing along my arm.  Roman is still clutching my hand and it is his face now contorted in pain.

I close my eyes, trying to will the flames to stop.  Instead, they send images to my brain, images I don’t want to see.  The bedroom I share with Zane has disappeared and I am in someone else’s bedroom.  A woman I recognize is lying on the bed.  Roman’s wife.

“What are you doing here?” Roman growls from the doorway.  He
leans against the door jamb, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.  He is dressed in black pants and a black sweater, both highlighting his muscular body.  The most surprising thing is how young he looks.  He can’t be older than seventeen or eighteen.

Thinking he’s talking to me, I start to speak but t
he woman sits up, letting the sheet fall from her naked breasts.  “I’m your wife, this is where I belong.”  Oh god, I don’t want to be here.  I understand now they can’t see me, this is the past and I am simply a voyeur.  Still, I don’t want to be here when Roman makes love to his wife. 

“You are not my wife.”

The woman laughs and lies back against the pillows again.  She uses her long legs to kick the sheet completely off her naked body.  “Why do you continue to fight the inevitable?”  She uses her finger to trace circles around the nipple of her right breast.

Roman doesn’t seem to notice.  “Death is inevitable.  Having you as a wife is not.”

A pout forms on the woman’s lips.  “You want me, Roman.  Why can’t you admit it?”

P
ure hatred fills his eyes and acid fills his words.  “I never wanted you, not even when we were children.”

The pout leaves her lips and anger and determination pour onto her face.  “I’ve tasted your kisses, Roman.  I know the lust you feel for this body.”  She gestures to her large, perfect breasts and down her long, shapely legs.

“I was drunk and I don’t remember kissing you as you claim.  If I kissed you then, I’m sure I was thinking of someone else. Yet, even then you couldn’t coax me into your bed.”

The woman flinches as if he slapped her.  “You are a cruel bastard.” 

“So I’ve been told.”

Trying a different tactic, the woman says in a sexy purr, “You can’t tell me you prefer th
e Marid.  She’s a child, Roman.  She can’t satisfy you like I can.  You must do your duty with her, but you have a duty to our marriage, as well.  You could come home to me every night and I will make you forget about the little girl.”

“She is not a little girl,” Roman growls.  “Get out of my bed.”

Tilting her head defiantly, the woman says, “No.  You and I will consummate this marriage Roman.  All I need to do is tell your father and he will be furious with you.  He arranged our marriage and imagine his disappointment when he finds out you are defying him this way.  You’ve developed feelings for the pitiful thing.  He doesn’t know, does he?  She’s a toy, Roman.  Someone you can play with until she lets you mark her, that’s it.  There is no happily ever after for the two of you.  If the Marid doesn’t kill you when she finds out what you’ve been doing, then her brother will.”

Roman is unfazed by her threats.  “If you do not get out of my bed on your own, I will throw your naked ass out into the street.  You are not my wife and you never will be.”

With a sharp stab of pain, I am pulled out of the vision.  Zane is still straddling me but Brielle is now holding my bad arm just above where the flames are glowing.  Roman is slumped unconscious against a heaving Hank who pulled him free from my grasp. 

“Skye, are you back with us?” Zane asks gently.

I can’t speak so I nod my head.  The subtle movement is enough to make me lose the delicate hold I have on my nausea.  My throat opens and every bit of whiskey left in my stomach empties onto the bed, Zane and Brielle.  Brielle’s cries of disgust are the last thing I hear before I join Roman in unconsciousness.

Chapter 3

I wake to the feel of a soft cloth gliding gently across my skin.  I open my eyes to find Zane sitting next to me, cleaning me up.  “You really know how to sober a guy up,” he teases when he notices I’m awake.

“Did I hurt anyone?” I ask.  I’m most concerned for Roman.  The only other time I’ve used my flames I killed someone
and Roman was the one with direct contact this time.

Zane shrugs.  “Not really.”

I don’t like the sound of that.  “Not really?” 

He hesitates a moment before answering.  “Roman hasn’t woken up yet.”

I try to sit up but the movement brings back the nausea.  I put my head back on the pillow.  “How do you know he’s okay then?”

“Grams checked him out.  He’s breathing, there are no burn marks and he’s mumbling.  Those are pretty good signs of him being okay.”

Unless he’s mumbling because I turned his brain into mush.  I refuse to say this out loud, afraid it will make it true.  “Where is he?”

Zane has the decency to look embarrassed as he says, “On the floor on the other side of the bed.”

“You left him on the floor?!”

“With a pillow and a blanket.”

“Like that makes it better?”  This time I will myself through the nausea and sit up.  “Why didn’t you put him on the bed?”

Zane’s voice has a steely edge
when he responds.  “Honestly?  Because he’s the least of my worries right now.  You freaked out, tried to set him on fire and it almost gave Hank a heart attack pulling him away from you.  Grams was ready to call 911 until she remembered her nitro glycerin.  It took three for his chest pains to go away.  I was more concerned for his health than Roman’s.  Roman’s lucky Brielle was considerate enough to give him a damn pillow and blanket.”

Oh. 
“Is Hank okay now?”

Zane shrugs, still annoyed with me.  “Seems to be.”

“Did Brielle get hurt?”

“Other than being grossed out when you vomited all over her, she’s fine.”

I’m sure I’ll never live that down.  “Thank you.”

The vertical lines above his nose crinkle in confusion.  “For what?”

I lift my good arm so I can lay a hand on his cheek.  “For taking care of me like this.  You amaze me with your strength and your patience.  I’ve been off the charts crazy since you met me, yet you stay with me.”

He chuckles.  “What can I say, off the charts crazy women turn me on.”

“I love you.”  The words are jerked out of my mouth so hard and fast, my brain has whiplash.  I had not intended to say that.  I’m not even sure if it’s how I really feel. 

I can’t read Zane’s face. 
It has become a blank page.  He leans forward to kiss my forehead and says, “I need to check on Hank.  I’ll be back in a little bit.”

I watch him walk out of the room without looking back
, without responding to what I said.  He doesn’t feel the same way about me.  He doesn’t love me.  A little part of my heart shrivels and dies with the thought, regardless of my own uncertainties.

I lie here staring at the ceiling for I don’t know how long churning over the possible ramifications of what I said to Zane.  I’ve changed everything with three little words and I can’t take them back. 
Finally, after what feels like hours, my body succumbs to all the trauma of the day and pulls me back into a much needed sleep.  My mind is grateful.

I wake slowly, a pressure at my back like someone is lying in bed with me.  I smile and start to roll over.  Maybe I didn’t ruin everything with Zane. 

His feet on my back keep me from moving towards him.  Instead, I am pushed the other way so hard, I tumble off the bed.  I cry out in pain when my shoulder and wrist make contact with Roman’s still form.

The impact rouses him but it’s like he didn’t hear my
cry of pain.  I’m not even sure he’s truly awake.  Wrapping his arms around me, he rolls me over so I’m flat on my back, my bad arm taking the brunt of this new trauma.  Eyes still closed, he finds my lips with his own.  His kiss is demanding, relentless.  I try to push him away, break free of his hold, but he’s too strong and my body has been through too much. 

In the back of my mind is the nagging thoug
ht that he may not be married, but I push the thought away.  It doesn’t matter.  I’ve already given my heart away and it wasn’t to him this time.  I struggle harder, turning my face away from his.  Undeterred, he kisses a trail down my jaw to my neck.  The scream I let out when he touches my mark with his lips is enough to bring him fully awake.  He scrambles up, confusion awash in his eyes.

“I guess leaving you two to sleep in the same room wasn’t a good idea,” Zane drawls
from the doorway.

Chapter 4

Despite the pain in my arm and ankle, I shoot to my feet.  “Zane, this isn’t what it looks like.”

“So, Roman wasn’t just kissing you?”

“Zane, it’s not…”

“What it looks like,” he finishes for me.  “I know.”

I wish I could melt into the floor, become one with the carpet fibers.  I couldn’t be more miserable if the devil showed up asking me to kill someone again.  I glance at Roman who is now standing next to me.  Despite the horror of the situation, I am relieved to see he seems unharmed by my fire.  I plead with my eyes to get him to help me make Zane understand.  My pleas go unheeded and his lips stay firmly closed.

Zane walks
farther into the room and stops in front of me.  “You need to lie down.  You don’t look so good.”

It’s p
robably because I’m about ready to pass out from stress and pain.  Since I have no idea what else to say to him, I sit down on the bed.  The blush has left my face and the throbbing pain has eased some with taking my weight off my ankle, but emotionally I feel worse than ever.

As soon as I’m on the bed, Zane cold cocks Roman in the jaw.  My mouth hangs open in shock.  Roman isn’t as shocked as I am, he expected this reaction from Zane.  Using the back of his hand to wipe the blood off his cheek, he says, “Satisfied now?”

“Not yet,” Zane growls.  He swings again but Roman’s ready for him this time.  He block’s Zane’s fist with one arm as he plants his own in Zane’s abdomen.  Zane lets out a burst of air as his diaphragm reacts.  That doesn’t stop him, though.  In a matter of seconds, the two of them are swinging at each other.  Blood explodes from Roman’s nose when Zane lands a punch and Zane’s lips are cracked and bleeding from being hit. 

Somehow, Zane manages to get his hand around Roman’s neck, bashing the other man’s head into the wall.  He can’t keep hold when Roman punches him in the side, right where his kidney
is.  Instead of going down, Zane comes right back at him and punches are flying again.

The two are evenly matched in skills and strength, despite their different body styles.  Zane is lean muscle while Roman has a bulkier build.  Neither of them is going to win this fight, they will keep swinging until they knock each other unconscious, or worse, until they kill each other.
 

There is a third option.  The deafening sound of a gunshot explodes into the room making both men cease in their attempt to kill each other.  “The next one goes inside one of you and right now, I’m not sure which of you two dumbasses deserves it more.  I may shoot
you both.”  If only Mrs. Gregori was kidding.  She’s not.

The two men separate their bloody and bruised bodies from one another.  Roman grabs some Kleenex from the nightstand to help staunch the flow of blood from his nose.  Zane uses the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe at the blood oozing from his lips.

“What the hell are you two fighting about now?” Brielle asks from behind her grandmother.  Hank is standing next to her looking every bit like a man capable of killing both Zane and Roman in a fight.

Neither of the
younger two men rushes to give her a reason, so I feel obligated to do so.  This is my fault, after all.  “Zane found Roman kissing me.”