Marked (7 page)

“I think I’m going to puke,” Brielle mutters under her breath.  I hope she does.

“But I should let a few people know that I won’t be at the hospital for a few days,” Roman says as he pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and presses a button on the top to turn it on.

“No way, is that the new iPhone?” Brielle asks, suddenly striding towards us with a grin.  “Can I see it?”

Roman shrugs.  “Sure.”  He hands it to her when she’s close enough.

Brielle snatches it out of his hand and throws it down.  She uses the heel of her Doc Martens to grind it into the floor.  Roman and I are both too stunned to say anything as she reaches down and sorts through the broken plastic.  She picks up a couple of things and speed walks to the bathroom. A second later, the toilet flushes.  Obviously, she just flushed the pieces of his phone.

When she comes back out, she’s not grinning anymore.  “For a doctor you’re pretty damn stupid.”

Roman’s face darkens now that he’s over the shock.  “Was that really necessary?”

“Considering I have a power amplifier sending out the sine wave, yes.  The second you turned that phone on, its signal was blasted out of here like a fucking bat on steroids.  You probably just alerted every djinn in the city as to where you are.  Probably the cops too.  You might as well have put a billboard in the center of town saying ‘find my dumb ass here’ with an arrow pointed in this direction.”

Roman and I are both confused.  I get the whole power amplification thing.  That would amp up the signal from his phone, but she said something I don’t understand.  “Why would the cops be involved?” I ask.

Brielle really needs to give that ‘get a fucking clue’ face a rest.  “When neither you nor the doctor show back up, what do you think the hospital will do?  They’re
not
going to think that Dr. Dumbass here took you on a leisurely stroll.  No.  They’re either going to think that he kidnapped you or that you were both kidnapped, or killed, by the psychopaths shooting up the hospital.  Either way, they’re going to look for you.”

Realization seeps into my mind that I do need to get a fucking clue.  Roman too.  This is some pretty deep shit we’re all suddenly involved with.  There’s no chance that I can walk back into my old life again.  Hell, for all I know, I could be wanted for killing that djinn, or guy, whatever, with my car.  And now Roman’s in the same predicament.  Even if he decided to go back, regardless of the fact that the djinn might be after him, how could he explain what happened to me?  He was the last person to be seen with me and the circumstances were shady to say the least.  I think back to that nurse who saw him carrying me in the hallway at the hospital.  She had to have told the authorities by now. 

The same thoughts are going through his mind.  Roman’s face has become a blank page, but there’s resignation in his voice.  “You’re right.  They will think that.” 

“Are we still safe here?” I ask her.

Brielle’s back at her computer and is typing away.  “I’m going to try to copy his signal and leave a false trail across the city.  Hopefully it’s not too late.”

“You can do that?”  I’ve never seen that on any of the crime shows.  Then again, between work and school, I don’t get to watch much television.

“I’m trying,” is her curt reply.  Her fingers are flying on the keyboard.  After about five minutes and a lot of swearing, she finally sits back in her chair.  “That should do it.”

“I apologize.  I should have realized it wouldn’t be safe to use my phone,” Roman says now that Brielle’s attention isn’t glued to the computer screen.

“That’s okay.  I should have asked if you had a cell phone before we even got here.”  Wow, that was gracious of her.  “Look, obviously I’m not thrilled that Malik asked me to do this, but I said I would.  So I will.”  She speaks in riddles sometimes.  “But we have to have some ground rules.  Basically, whatever I say goes.  Otherwise, we’ll end up being appetizer, entrée and dessert for the djinn, served up fondue style.  I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be the equivalent to chocolate fondue.”  She thinks she’d be the sweet one?

“So you want to us to follow you blindly, no questions asked,” Roman says.

Brielle cocks her head and nods.  “Basically.”

“And I’m supposed to let you lead me to some stranger to do god knows what with me?”  I have it on my lips to tell her what I think of that when her computer chimes.

Brielle swirls her chair back to her monitors.  Whatever she sees makes her scowl.  Her eyes dart towards me for a split second and then back to the screen.  “Malik wants me to tell you something.  He says it will make you trust him.”

“Okay.”  I can’t think of anything he could say that will make me trust him.

“He said to tell you ‘#+B (G (D/J H'-/ 92J2J’.”

Roman scoffs.  “How is saying something in Arabic supposed to make her trust him?  She doesn’t even know what you just said.”

“Trust me, my dear one,” I whisper to myself. 

Those words trigger something in my mind.  The room disappears as a feeling of warmth washes through me, filling me with a love I have never felt before in this life; yet I know I have somewhere in time.  It’s a love that takes away all pain, all sorrow.  It steals my breath away.  This love wraps around me, comforts me, and shatters any illusion I had of resistance.  My place is with Malik.  Malik, who has whispered these words to me now and what feels like an eternity ago. 

I remember.  I can feel myself in his arms as he whispers those words right before saying good-bye.  I beg him to let me stay but nothing sways him.  I can’t see his face; I can only feel his blond hair tickling my cheek as I cry into his shoulder.  I don’t want to leave him but I must.  For both of us, I must.  We will never be safe if we’re together.

“Skye, what’s wrong?”  Roman’s hands are on my cheeks and he’s shaking me slightly.  “Skye, answer me.”

“I have to go to him,” I whisper.

“No, you don’t.”  His intensity shocks me back into awareness.  “You don’t know him.  This could be a trap.”

“I did know him once.”  I don’t know how to explain what I’m feeling right now.  “I need to be with him again.”

If he squeezes my face any tighter, my head is going to start leaking brains out my ears.  “Two minutes ago you had no idea who this guy is and now, because he said ‘trust me’, you are ready to go off and live happily ever after with him?”

“You’re hurting me,” I say through my pursed lips triggered by his grip.

Immediately, he lets go.  “I’m sorry.  That was not my intent.”

Brielle is looking at us curiously.  “Why are you so gung ho against her going to see Malik?”  I don’t think she’s any happier than he is about this, but she’s trying hard not to show it.

Roman stands up and crosses his arms over his chest.  “She’s my patient and I don’t want her in a situation where she could get injured more than she already is.”

Brielle snorts.  “Yeah, that’s it.  I could tell you had a boner for her back in her hospital room.  Isn’t there some sort of ethical code or something about not screwing your patients, Doc?”

If she was a guy, he would have already slugged her.  “I am not screwing my patient.  I simply care about her wellbeing.”

This conversation would be uncomfortable anyway, but since I’m the patient they’re talking about, the discomfort level has been amplified.  “I don’t think I could screw anyone in my current condition.”  Um.  That didn’t make things any less awkward.  “Can we get off the subject of my sex life please?” 

“Fine with me.  I don’t want to picture you two doing the nasty.  And just so you know, it’s not going to happen on my bed.”

If I could get up, I’d slug her this time.  She’s so crude.  But, she saved my life.  I have to keep saying that over and over in my mind.  Her intentions are good even if her personality is lacking in a few areas.  Though I do think her shares of tact and geniality were put aside so she could have extra helpings of bitch and bitchier.

I don’t want to keep arguing with her.  I’m too exhausted.  “Look, I really appreciate what you’ve done for me.  If you hadn’t come to the hospital, I’d probably be dead.  And I’m sorry that there’s a connection between me and this man that you obviously care for, but could we call a truce?”

That is not a ‘truce’ face Brielle has on.  “Who says I care for him?”

“Okay.  My mistake, you don’t care for him.  Can we still call a truce?  We’re obviously stuck together for a while.”  If we’re together long enough though, I’d put money on one of us becoming homicidal towards the other.

She narrows her eyes and stares at me for a long time.  So long that I fear her eyes are going to dry up if she doesn’t blink soon.  She startles me when she finally says, “Are you guys hungry?”  She turns back to her kitchen area and opens the fridge again.  “I don’t have much.  We could order pizza or something but you guys are paying.  There’s not a lot of money in djinn hunting.  I have a slot in the garage that the pizza guy will slide the pizza into.  He knows I like my privacy.  I like pineapple and bacon on mine.  If you guys want something else you’ll have to order two pizzas.” 

Abandoning her futile search of her empty fridge, she returns to her computer.  “Alright Doc, hand over your credit card.”

Roman looks at her suspiciously.  “You’ve already expressed that the djinn are technologically savvy, so wouldn’t they be able to trace my credit card usage?”

Brielle snorts.  “By the time I reroute the transaction, they won’t even know what country you’re in.”

He looks doubtful but Roman pulls out his wallet and opens it.  He selects a card and hands it to Brielle.   

As we wait for the pizza, I’m surprised to find that I’m hungry.  Considering the extent of my injuries, the fever I know I have, and the terror from earlier, I would have thought my appetite would be gone for a long time.  But, I am also completely wiped out.  How am I going to stay awake long enough to eat?  My eyelids are closing on their own accord and as much as I fight to keep them open, they simply won’t cooperate.

 The Tylenol™ that Roman found in the packed medicine cabinet has taken just the tiniest edge off from the pain, thank god.  I crack my eyes open to see that he is now wandering around Brielle’s apartment looking at her stuff, which is annoying the hell out of her.  She keeps telling him not to touch things.  He touches them anyway.

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.”