The Binding Stone (The Djinn Series) (37 page)

The Beginning

ephas
discovered my treachery the moment he woke, and now he presses the chain
against my throat, watching me struggle to breathe.

“Leela!”
Achan calls, having tracked me down once I did not arrive with the stone. “Let
go of her, Cephas.”

“Your
little whore stole my stone,” Cephas roars.

“Let
her up, we’ll get it back,” Achan says.

“It’s
gone,” Cephas says. “One of those visitors took it. They left her here covered
with these chains. Very thoughtful, to leave something for me to use to kill
her.”

My
vision turns black.

Achan
throws out his aura, and Cephas is torn off of me. The chains are lifted from
my chest, and I scramble to hide behind Achan.

“Leela,
we have to leave. Now.”

I
take us to the desert, because I do not know where else to go. But Achan is
furious with me.

“How
could you be so stupid? So careless?” he shrieks. Never have I seen such hate
in his eyes.

For
the first time, he strikes me with his own hand, and I fall to the dirt crying.

I
hear scuffling and look up. The male stranger has appeared and attacked Achan,
jumping on his back and bringing them both to the ground. I rise, ready to
throw him off when he stands on his own, holding up the opal. My hand flies to
my neck with a gasp.

“The
woman,” I say.

“She’s
gone. She left me. So I started on the road away from here and that insane
Kitra. But then I saw you. A gift from the gods. Now as soon as we kill your
previous Master,” he turns toward the spot where he struggled with Achan, but
Achan is gone. Slithered away like the serpent he is.

“No
matter,” he says. “You are mine now. Hajima told me how it works before she
left. She told me I should try to find a stone that matches your necklace. But
she refused to take me home with her.”

I
stand in the sand, unsure what to do. What to expect.

“You
belong to me now,” he says, stroking the stone.

I
stare.

“Kneel
and call me Master.”

I
do.

Life

he
bell rings, and I sweep my notebook and graphite pencils into my backpack. Now that I'm free, I don't mind going to school. I
would prefer to stay with Jered in all of his classes, but it would look
suspicious if our schedules matched exactly.

I
see him, leaning casually against the lockers, watching me with those eyes. I
smile and sigh, pulling a hand through my new short-cropped haircut. I felt it
was time for something a bit more modern. A bit more me.

“We
have to get to the house; Mom’s having a heart attack about all the guests.”

“No
worries. I’ll help,” I say, hugging him tight.

“This
is going to be weird without Gabe there.” I can tell Jered fights tears, even
though it has been some time.

I
hold him tighter. There are no words of comfort I can offer. At least his
mother has recovered. I do not know what he would have done if she had not.

When
his mother awoke, Jered was hesitant to tell her anything. But I insisted she
must know the truth. I suspected that she knew something. That she had spent
all those years afraid of Achan. And I was right.

Corrie
listened to the story, unable to tear her eyes from her son. And when I
finished, she gathered us both to her in a tight, and wet, embrace. She wept,
telling us that she knew Jered’s father had powers, and that Jered did as well.
She sensed the evil in Peter (as she referred to Achan) and ran, doing
everything in her power to keep Jered safe and oblivious to his abilities.

“Wow,”
Jered says, as we walk up the path toward his new house. “Are you sure this is
okay? You didn’t, you know, take it from anyone?”

“It
is fine. No one had purchased it yet. I used some of Kitra’s billions.”

Taj
used some as well. He removed Achan’s body from Sophie’s home, altering the
family’s memories so that they believed he ran off with another woman. He was
adamant that Sophie be taken care of and deposited a large sum in her mother’s
bank account. Thus far she seems to be adjusting well, but I do have to be
careful about guarding Jered’s thoughts around her.

They
are already inside. Jered’s half-brother and sisters. And Corrie and Elle, who
chat excitedly in the gleaming gourmet kitchen.

“How
was school?” Corrie asks, catching sight of us.

“Good.
Are you ready for the housewarming party?” I ask, hopping up on a barstool.

“Yes!”
Corrie’s gray eyes crinkle with a smile so wide, I have to return it.

“We’re
starting a club,” Elle says, nibbling on a cracker and cheese.

“Oh?”
I raise my eyebrows.

“The
ex-wives of Peter Archer club,” she says.

“Let’s
hope there are no more members lurking about,” Corrie adds, giving me a wink.
She knows that I am the charter member.

I
eye the glass of wine held casually in Elle’s hand. But I know better than to
pour some for myself. Corrie would not be happy. And that matters to me very
much.

I
squeeze her hand with genuine affection. I’ve never experienced a mother
before. She is the only one with whom I have ever shared the pain of my past.
Bit by bit, in tears on her sofa each night while Jered sleeps. It’s not that
he hasn’t offered to listen, but he will not push me to tell him all, and for
that I am extremely grateful.

“No
way!” Jered’s siblings huddle together in the living room. Amanda leans over
Chris’s shoulder. I join them on the arm of the sofa to see Chris concentrating
on the phone in his hand. His fingers fly across the screen.

“What
are you doing?” I ask.

“Just
a game,” Chris says, catching sight of me, and blushing.

“Zombie
Squasher 4000?” I ask.

“Um,
yeah. Do you know it?” he asks, surprised.

“It
was my friend’s favorite game. I’ve been practicing,” I say. “I believe I’m
getting pretty good.”

My
eyes slide across the room to Jered, who is deep in discussion with Gabe’s
parents and sister. I haven’t been able to speak to them since the funeral.
After all, they might not know it, but I am responsible for their son’s death.

The
doorbell rings, and I jog to answer, Sophie fast at my heels. I find Taj’s
impish grin on the other side. Sophie’s jaw drops open.

“You
look just like my doll,” she says.

Taj
squats down before her, with a twinkle in his eye. “Then he must be an
unbelievably handsome fellow.”

Sophie
laughs, delighted. I place a hand on my hip and glare at Taj. So he left his
Little Master with a gift. I shake my head.

“What’s
your name?” Sophie asks.

“Sophie,”
I say. “This is my brother, Taj.”

Sophie
giggles again. “That’s a funny name.”

Once
the crowd thins to family, and Sophie cannot stifle another yawn, Elle and
Jered’s half-brother and sisters say their goodbyes.

“I
better get to this mess. I’m getting awfully tired,” Corrie says.

I
wave a hand, and the house is spotless. “Get some sleep,” I say.

“Thank
you, Leela dear. But don’t stay up too late. And separate rooms, you two; Lord
knows there are enough in this place.”

“Mom!”
Jered flushes a deep shade of garnet, but his mother simply shakes her head and
stalks up the winding steps.

“I
ought to be going too,” Taj says, leaning down to give me a peck on the cheek.

“Where
are you going?” I ask, suspiciously.

“It’s
nine o’clock on a Friday night. I have a hot date. And from the looks of it, so
do you.”

Jered
has come up behind me. His arms wind around me along with his deep burgundy
aura, and I lean back against his chest. Taj winks and disappears. I turn
around, linking my hands behind Jered’s neck.

“Alone
at last,” I say softly.

“Want
to kick back and watch a movie?” he asks, drawing me in closer so that our
bodies mesh.

“That’s
it?” I lean in, grazing his neck with my lips. I enjoy the shudder that works
its way down his body.

“That,
Leela, is up to you,” he says. “Your wish is my command.”

Lisa Gail Green
lives with her husband the rocket scientist and their three junior mad scientists in Southern California. She writes books so she can have an excuse to live in the fantasy world in her head. She likes to share these with readers, and you can find her hanging out on her blog (
Paranormal Point of View
), Facebook, and Twitter. She has a parrot but would most definitely get a werewolf for a pet if she weren’t allergic.

There will be a prize at the end of this.

I have to thank so many people for getting me to this point. My amazing editors, critique partners, and friends who love my work as much as I do – Ian Kezsbom and Deborah Pasachoff. My writing buddies without whom I would have quit several times over, Julie Musil and Leslie Rose. The amazing Martina Boone who inexplicably decided I knew what I was doing. My first agent and forever encourager, Rubin Pfeffer. And my family for putting up with the insanity and obsession that goes with writing.