Djinn Justice (The Collegium Book 2) (6 page)

As amusing as it had been to see Uncle shot down in his attempt to flirt with Susie Adams—and the entertaining irony of a djinn courting a woman who determinedly rejected the idea of magic—all humor left Fay as she read the translation of the hieroglyphic text. Susie had been right. There was definitely a warning attached.

Leave-taking didn’t take long, and they returned to the car. Fay read the translation aloud as Uncle started the engine.

“The toad that eats the lion’s spit swells and swells. His toad heart shrivels. The poison on his claws kills. He dies forever.”

“Now, read the spell,” Uncle said.

Fay passed the page to Steve. “I don’t know what my magic would do.” Steve was a were, he had no magic, other than his were-nature. It was safer that he read the words. She was trained, her magic under control, but this was magic so old it was no longer taught.

Except, Uncle had known where to find the spell. The djinn had started the Suzerainty millennia before. How old was he? Or did djinn live and age in a different dimension?

In the passenger seat, Steve frowned at the torn page of translation. The road from the archaeological site was little more than a track through sand. They bounced along it.

“Take the path between the five stars. The spider’s web is thrown—or cast, Susie’s written in parentheses. Pull in the eyes and ears, cut the tongue, open the heart to me.”

Fay had thought an enslavement spell would have similarities to a demon summoning, but this was completely different. This spell was nature-based. Demon summoning relied on true naming the hell spawn and locking it in this world via incantation and symbols.

“What do you think?” Uncle looked at her in the rear vision mirror.

“It sounds like something is sacrificed to power the spell,” Fay said.

The desert vanished, and the car. They landed back in the Suzerain’s fort. The boardroom was empty. It was just her and Steve, in the middle of the floor.

“Uncle?” he called.

Silence.

Steve grimaced. “What sort of starting place does a spell provide? We know that one of those affected is a bear-were and another a lone wolf in North Carolina.”

“We know more than that.” Fay had learned years ago to accept hated missions. Her emotions were less than the safety of those she had to save and protect. She would return to the Collegium. But the cold of her decision, the hollowing dread in her stomach, were also real. “Your djinn wasn’t simply being mischievous when he said this would test me, too. No were could make the spell work. Magic doesn’t work on you and you can’t work magic. Weres are being hurt, but the villain isn’t one of you. He, or she, must be a mage. Rogue mages are the Collegium’s responsibility.”

“Fay.” Steve’s voice, the deep concern and urge to protect her, only made this harder.

“I have to speak with Lewis Bennett. I need to know if the Collegium is aware of the problem, and if they are, what they’re doing. I could jeopardize a mission if I act alone, without briefing. I have to return.”

He swore.

“Steve, I’m trained for this stuff. And I have to face the Collegium some time.”

“I know.” He pushed a hand through his short hair. “Hell and damn. I wanted two weeks, minimum, just us. Not this craziness. We should have had that time without you having to face the Collegium.”

“Lewis isn’t so bad. He was a respected captain of the guardians before he eroded his magic. A truly honorable man.” And one her dad had wanted her to hook up with—but Fay didn’t add that last point. She hadn’t been tempted. Lewis was too controlled. She and he would have frozen together. She needed Steve. His passion unleashed hers. And she trusted him in a way she could never trust anyone within the Collegium. She trusted him to put her needs first.

However, her father had been right to recognize Lewis’s importance. With or without magic, Lewis was a force—and the circumstances in which he’d eroded his magic made him a hero. Now, he made the perfect interim president. If anything, his lack of magic, after Richard had controlled too much, made him all the more acceptable to the mages under his leadership.

“I know Bennett’s reputation,” Steve said. And weres valued reputation.

Fay wondered at her own reputation outside the Collegium. Now that she’d entered the Suzerain’s fort at Steve’s side, weres would be investigating her. Power politics happened everywhere. How would they judge her? Not that it mattered. She belonged with Steve.

She ran her hands down his spine and back up, enjoying the feel of his body. Her lover, powerful and protective. “Then you know Lewis will answer a straight question, even if I’ve quit the Collegium. He knows he owes me, us. We defeated that demon before it could control all of the Collegium through people’s oath ties.”

Steve’s hands curved around her throat and up to cup her jaw. An intimate caress, a hold that could break her jaw, but now offered only care, tipping her face to meet his gaze. “You’re not going to phone him, are you?”

“No.” She could. Maybe in other circumstances she would. But they were in Alexandria, and Alexandria had a portal. Lewis was in New York, and New York had two portals. In seconds, Fay could be in New York.

“I’ll go with you.”

“Because you want the answers or because you think I need you with me to face the Collegium?”

His thumbs caressed her cheeks. “Both.”

At least he didn’t lie. “Or you could find one of the two weres Uncle showed us. The more I can learn of the spell that holds them, the greater my chance of breaking it—and of tracing it back to its caster. If the Collegium isn’t already doing so.”

However, she couldn’t count on the Collegium being on top of this. It was in chaos, restructuring and absorbing the loss of security its members had taken for granted, prior to the revelation of how nearly a demon had owned them. It could be that the Collegium had no notion of the rogue mage, especially since the person was targeting weres, whom the Collegium mostly ignored.

Disapproval roughened Steve’s voice. “You want me to let you face Bennett and the Collegium alone. It’s not just him. You’re not a guardian any more. Other mages can challenge you.”

“They did that when I was a guardian.” Fay caught his wrists, holding them, holding his hands against her. She’d fought for her power, sanity and life against her colleagues. Not all of them, no. But enough had used the excuse of “testing” her that she’d learned early that safety was illusory—except with Steve. All of which was part of why she wouldn’t let him face his djinn-given test alone. “The Collegium mages learned years ago the risks of challenging me. They won’t try.”

He growled, lowering his hands to wrap his arms around her.

“Steve, trust me.”

“I do. It’s the world and that tricky djinn that I mistrust.”

She hugged him.

His breath was warm against her ear. “I don’t want you hurt.”

“The feeling’s mutual. Be careful when you track down the two weres Uncle showed us—and when you try to discover the others.”

He drew back to look at her.

She smiled. “I know you. You’re a protector. You’ll be looking for the other enslaved, needing to save them all.”

“It’s my job.”

“Your test. I’m learning your life is complicated.”

He stared at her intently. “When we got together, I thought the test for the Suzerainty would be years away.”

It wasn’t the time, with both of them concerned about the rogue mage and the theft of weres’ dream essences—for what purpose? the Ancient Egyptian spell hadn’t explained its purpose—but for all her concern, she had a more personal worry. One that she needed answered. “When you pass Uncle’s test, what will it mean? Does it make you a fit heir for the Suzerainty—”

His arms tensed around her, squeezing her ribs. “It means the Suzerainty shifts to me. There’ll be a formal ceremony to mark the transfer of power. It happens here, in the Court.”

“Power?” she gasped as he clamped her tightly.

He was always so mindful of his strength that this slip revealed the extent of his worry. His arms loosened, just enough that she could breathe. His tension remained. “Uncle created the Suzerainty. He provides the power that underpins its authority. As Suzerain, Granddad dispenses justice for weres. He settles disputes and has the right to order weres accused of serious crimes to stand before him. Our marshals bring them to him.”

“To you, after your test.” Fay was beginning to see the uniqueness of Steve’s inherited responsibilities. He was the final judge. Weres could escape human justice, but not his. “What is the power the djinn gives you.”

Steve inhaled deeply. “It is the worst punishment. Granddad hates to deliver it. He usually orders lighter sentences. People accept them because they know the alternative.” He was shying away from saying it; finally grating out the harsh truth. “Uncle grants us the power to remove a person’s were-nature. They become only human. They can’t shift. They lose the power to scent the world and travel through it open to so many other ways of knowing it.” The horror of that loss hoarsened his voice.

Fay controlled a shudder before it transmitted itself to Steve. She wouldn’t make him feel worse. The djinn would lay a terrible burden on his shoulders. He would have the power to tear away a central element of a were’s identity. No wonder the djinn would test him first. For all her magical power, Fay couldn’t re-make a person. Steve would have the power to do so.

Frail Mr. Jekyll had already done so. Was it the reason for the old man’s gauntness?

“I see that evil djinn hasn’t returned with you! He causes trouble and runs away.” Mrs. Jekyll entered the room with sharp footsteps, although they weren’t as sharp as her voice.

Fay peered around Steve’s shoulder.

His grandmother wore the straw-colored linen jacket and one shade darker matching dress that she’d worn earlier. Her dyed red hair was still curled and styled to perfection, her make-up subtle. Her shoes were high-heeled and the same color as her linen jacket. She crossed the room, her heels ringing against the stone floor. “You should tell your grandfather of your return.”

“I’m sure the same spy who reported to you can inform Granddad.”

“Steven!” Mrs. Jekyll reprimanded him. “I left someone to monitor the Court because I know the way that tricky djinn thinks. He’d return you here just to cause trouble.”

Steve released Fay with a slowness that was a caress in itself and turned to fully face his grandmother. “What trouble could there be in me being in the fort?”

Mrs. Jekyll shot a look at Fay, a look that said as clearly as words,
it is the company you keep
.

“I would appreciate knowing what Uncle showed you.” Mr. Jekyll’s entrance broke the tension. “When I heard Raha nearly running, I guessed you had returned.”

“My dear, I wished to speak with our grandson.” A hint of defensiveness there.

Fay felt pushed and pulled, lost in currents of emotion and relationships she didn’t understand.

Steve stood a pace in front of her, not blocking her from his grandparents, but still standing in between. “We should speak somewhere private since Uncle isn’t here to block listening ears.”

“My study,” Mr. Jekyll said.

Mrs. Jekyll swiveled on one spiked heel, intent on being part of that conversation.

As far as Fay was concerned, she was welcome to it. “Steve, if you could introduce me to your porter, I think that would be a better use of my time.” Unsure of who might be listening and for what purpose, she kept her comment cryptic.

“You’re leaving? Now?” Mrs. Jekyll spun back. Emotionally, she spun to accusation. From not wanting Fay present, now she accused her of abandonment.

Steve’s mouth compressed.

By the door, Mr. Jekyll passed a hand over his face. The gesture was tired.

“I’ll introduce you to Faroud,” Steve said. “Granddad, can you give me ten minutes?”

“No need,” Mrs. Jekyll said, suddenly bright and helpful. “I will show Ms. Olwen to the portal.”

The
Ms. Olwen
put Fay neatly in the place Mrs. Jekyll wanted her to occupy: that of outsider. Except, Fay winced, realization slamming into her. When Steve passed Uncle’s test, it was Mrs. Jekyll’s place that Fay would occupy. She would be the Suzerain’s partner, unless she and Steve broke up—and neither rogue mages, devious djinni nor family disapproval would force her to do that.

She put a hand on his arm, stretched up and kissed him lightly, but warmly, on the mouth.

The frown between his eyebrows faded.

“Thank you, Mrs. Jekyll. I’d appreciate an introduction to your porter,” Fay said demurely in the face of the older woman’s pop-eyed disapproval.

“Do you have any sea sickness pills on you?” Steve asked, laughter lurking in his voice.

Despite the convenience of portal travel, the spinning incoherence of the time in between portals induced a nauseous vertigo in Fay. Steve knew it was her weakness. She preferred losing hours travelling by plane, than suffering the few seconds of portal transfer. She suspected it was something to do with her need to control things, and portals answered only to their porters.