Djinn Justice (The Collegium Book 2) Page 5

  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.

  “I’ll survive,” Fay said, dryly.

  Mr. Jekyll still stood by the doorway, and she nodded to him. “It was nice to meet you.” Really, what did you say to a lover’s critical grandfather?

  “We will see you on your return.”

  Fay couldn’t interpret the tone. Mr. Jekyll was a talented diplomat.

  Mrs. Jekyll was merely herself. “Do hurry up, girl. Someone will need to find Faroud.”

  Maintaining a prudent distance from each other, the two women exited to a wide corridor where three people could walk comfortably side by side. A last glance back at Steve showed that his frown had returned. Fay smiled at him. He might worry, but there was no need. She’d faced hostility before, and in a way, his grandmother’s overt dislike was easier to endure than a false show of acceptance.

  A middle-aged woman walked towards them, wearing the nondescript black clothing that could be a maid’s uniform, but wasn’t. The woman moved with the wary readiness of a fighter and her dark brown eyes assessed Fay as she would an opponent. She flexed her fingers.

  “Lilith,” Mrs. Jekyll said peremptorily, stopping and commanding the other woman to do likewise. “Find Faroud, please. Ms. Olwen requires use of our portal.” She walked on.

  Fay paused a second, curious as to Lilith’s reaction.

  The woman held Fay’s gaze as she drew a phone out of her pocket.

  Fay resumed walking. Even straining her ears, she barely heard the relayed order.

  “Send Faroud to the portal, now.”

  Mrs. Jekyll couldn’t take a half-trained teenager in a fight, but she had power in the Suzerain’s fort. Her orders were obeyed. Would that hold true when she was no longer partner to the Suzerain, but merely the new Suzerain’s grandmother? How important was her status to her? What would she sacrifice to protect it?

  Fay’s Collegium guardian training was part of her. She couldn’t help but calculate threats.

  The corridor turned at right angles, heading towards the rear of the fort. One door stood ajar, showing a light-filled room open to an inner courtyard. The furniture was casual and over-sized. Three people lounged on it in the quick glimpse Fay caught. On the other side of the corridor, where the rooms faced out, the doors were all closed. From behind one came the murmur of voices. The corridor had the air of an office space, impersonal. They were probably walking through the administrative headquarters of the Suzerainty.

  Mrs. Jekyll stopped at an elevator. She pushed the down button.

  In a building this ancient, Fay had expected stairs. Portals were always at ground, or slightly below ground, level. She grimaced, wondering if the appropriate name for the chamber she was going to would be “dungeon”.

  The elevator doors opened. Mrs. Jekyll stepped in.

  The elevator had wood paneling, no mirrors, and no apparent surveillance equipment. Then again, by this point, the fort’s security staff would know who was inside.

  Fay entered and the doors closed, silently.

  Descending to the portal wouldn’t take long. Mrs. Jekyll knew that better than Fay. The doors had barely closed, the elevator just easing into movement, when she spoke. “Don’t break my grandson’s heart. He’s risking more than you know.”

  It wasn’t the gambit Fay had anticipated. She stared at the elderly were.

  Mrs. Jekyll stared back, mouth compressed. Conversation over. The elevator doors opened and she walked out.

  I hate politics. Fay hated the games people played. Her dad had used her emotions against her for years. He’d exploited her loyalty to further his power. Would Mrs. Jekyll use Fay’s love for Steve against Fay, or could the warning that Steve was risking more than Fay understood be true?

  A subtle searching spell told her no one else was present below ground, but technology watched her. In front of her was a vast space, lit sporadically, so that light and darkness interplayed. In the distance, a circle of light delineated the portal. Beyond it, fading into shadow, was the entrance to a stone staircase set into the wall.

  In only a few paces, she passed Mrs. Jekyll as the woman tip-tapped along on her high heels. The por
tal made a clear goal, one that Fay could move towards confidently, broadcasting to unseen watchers both purpose and independence. Now was not the time to doubt herself or let Mrs. Jekyll’s words distract her.

  Fay concentrated on what she did know, on the strengths she had that the weres wouldn’t suspect.

  In the last month, she’d learned more of portals than most non-porters ever did. Her mother’s partner, Jim, was a porter. Now that she was no longer estranged from her mom, Fay had learned from Jim that the items with which a porter surrounded their portal were tokens, objects that acquired power from the portal and were attuned to their home portal. Porters could navigate the in-between by themselves. Non-porters travelling between portals had to be handed from porter to porter, and in that way, travelled within seconds and weren’t lost to the in-between. Lacking a porter, a non-porter could still enter the in-between if they had a token. Tokens allowed them to access any portal and to return to the token’s home portal. Without a token tugging them to a portal, non-porters would be lost. Sometimes porters would go after the lost. Other times, non-porters died in the in-between.

  Fay hated the thought of being lost in the swirling chaos of the in-between. Jim knew it and he’d given her a token that would always return her to his portal and her mom’s home in Fremantle, Australia. She’d slipped the shell into a pocket of her trousers when she dressed this morning. Knowing that she and Steve were to meet his grandparents and a djinn in Alexandria, where there was also a portal, it had seemed only sensible. Now she was glad to have the backup that meant, despite anything Mrs. Jekyll or the other weres believed to the contrary, Fay wasn’t dependent on their porter.

  However, the fact she didn’t feel secure in the Suzerain’s fort threatened her and Steve’s future, and that made her angry.

  Their relationship, the romantic element of it, was so new, and for her it was wondrous. He was her first lover. Intimacy remained scary and dazzling. She hated that this special time was being crushed by outside forces. Her and Steve’s relationship wasn’t casual, but they’d both been willing to put off discussion of the future. She guessed he’d been giving her breathing space to adjust to all the other changes in her life—only Uncle had interrupted their time alone. Stolen it from them.