Stone Chameleon (Ironhill Jinn #1) (7 page)

A shudder ran the length of me. I’d never heard it described so vividly. Although I’d have liked to tell her Isaac would be reasonable to take away the obvious terror in her black eyes, I didn’t want to lie to her. The big Scot didn’t like to be defied in any way. Still, I felt the need to do something, even at the risk of inviting more of his fury.

“He’ll be angry with me for leaving without permission, but I had to. To keep them safe.”

I squinted at that. Could this vampire be involved in the murders? “Keep who safe, Marina? Is someone threatening you?” Other than her lord.

The shaking of her head appeared frantic, so I didn’t press. It wasn’t the time or place to be upsetting her more, no matter how much I needed the information.

“You can come to my reservation, and I’ll talk to Isaac for you if you like, but you can’t stay here. You need to feed. I have a few willing donors and subterranean rooms especially for vampires who need sanctuary for one reason or another.”

Marina didn’t cause a sound as she crawled down the post to the second shelf in a monkey-like fashion. Not a stitch of clothing covered her emaciated form. Most newly cursed vampires had to earn the right to wear clothing, one of their many customs that curled my lip in disgust.

“You would do that for a lowly monster like me?” She leaned toward me as far as her precarious perch allowed.

Truth always went further than deception, so I thought carefully before answering. “You’re not a monster, Marina, you’re just a little lost right now while on your way toward becoming an independent vampire. You’ll be whole and beautiful again in time.”

“It doesn’t seem that way. I can’t even look at my reflection without getting sick.”

“It will pass, I promise. And I know what it’s like to be alone and afraid, to have no one to talk to, and be removed from my family as you have been.” I held my hands out to show her I had nothing in them. “I’m a friend, and you can trust me. My car is right outside. I’ll take you to the reservation myself right now and get you settled in with some blood so you can get well, and you can talk to me about anything. You don’t have to be alone.”

Her thin fingers covered her eyes, and she rocked back and forth. “That sounds nice. I want to, but…”

“I know you’re afraid. The hungrier you get, the less control you’ll have. Judging by the black marks on your face and throat, you’ve been starving yourself.” I didn’t ask why; the time didn’t seem right for curiosity, either.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” A shudder caused her to grip the shelving until her fingers paled. “I’m scared.” Her fangs descended, and she hissed.

What was she afraid of? I’d have pushed for answers if her rocking and muttering hadn’t warned against it.

I dangled my keys. “I promise you’ll find your way to the reservation safely.”

An eerie stillness settled over her. Her black gaze landed on me, something desolate and hopeless swirling within it. “I’m sorry,” she said in a young girl’s voice. Her body leaned left, yet she strained right, as if resisting an unseen tether. “You’re really nice, but I have to obey.”

I blinked, and she became a blur. Isaac was the only vampire able to transport himself across great distances in a blink, and nobody seemed to know the source of that power. Marina was fast, but she didn’t completely leave the visible realm like he did.

A door slammed on the far side of the warehouse, and light footsteps faded in the distance. Obey whom? Maybe Isaac had sent her there in secret, and it had nothing to do with the murders? Yes, that had to be the answer. The queasy rocking in my stomach would just have to accept it.

Connor wanted her gone, and she was gone. Job finished. Easiest twenty grand I’d ever made. I needed a diet soda and a solid night’s sleep.

U
pon my return to the lobby, I found Connor lounging on an ornate sofa in the corner of the reception area. He cracked the tab on a diet soda and took a sip. My stare fixed on his beverage, and I cleared my throat. He flinched, spilling brown liquid down his pristine shirt.

Coughing, he rose to his feet, pounding his chest with his free hand. “Miss Hudson, that was quick. Something wrong?”

“She’s gone.” I continued to track his drink, as if it had magnetic properties. “I’m not sure why she was here, but she left through the side door. From what I gather, she didn’t mean to bother anyone. She was just scared and didn’t know where to go.” Hopefully the external cameras—if they existed—had caught her retreat.

Connor followed my gaze to his soda. “Jeez. Manners much? I’ll get you one.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but thirst stoppered the words in my throat. I didn’t normally accept drinks from strangers because of the dangers of sugar, but as long as he opened the can in front of me, it would be fine.

He returned moments later with a glass and, to my great relief, a pristine diet soda can with condensation building on the outside. It was cold, colder than the air-conditioned room that caused gooseflesh to rise along my arms.

“Allow me.” He popped the tab and poured the liquid orgasm-for-the-mouth into the glass in his other hand.

I accepted it from him, bringing it to my lips and dumping down half of it. Utter bliss occupied my body. I became aware of sweetness coating my tongue and throat. Not sweetener, but the real thing.

My hackles rose to attention.

Ecstasy swirled in my body, searing its way through my bloodstream. I choked on a giggle and set the glass down not-so-gently on the coffee table. The walls tilted at a disturbing angle, toppling me sideways with a sudden sense of vertigo.

I stared at the door, but it seemed a hundred miles away, and I’d be alone in the dark, vulnerable. A safe place to ride it out would have to do. “I need to use your facilities.” I snorted, covering it with my hand. “Now.”

When he nodded with a smile, pointing down the hallway, I knew I’d been had. I rushed for the indicated door, stumbling over my own feet twice before falling into the sterile sanctuary of the restroom and slamming the door shut with my foot. It took some fiddling with trembling fingers to twist the knob to the locked position.

A barrage of questions bounced around my cotton-candy mind. Who was he? Had he orchestrated the whole affair, kidnapped and starved a vampire to get me there? Why? How did he know what I was? How did he overpower a vampire? Was he behind the murders?

I curled into a ball on the floor, holding both hands over my mouth to quiet my guffaws. Sensations, not unlike I imagined flying to be like, floated over and through my body. The ground seemed far below me, made of mist and marshmallows washed in rainbow light. The walls shimmered and danced with white sparks. At first I thought the sugar had brought on the illusion, but the returning vibrations were in answer to my power calling out to the stone tiles.

I waved at them with a grin and pouted when they didn’t wave back, only rumbled along with my pleasure. Time lost all meaning. I surfed the continuous wave of ecstasy, blurting out sweet nothings to the earth as I waited for the high to ebb. It sang back to me, and shook with delight, a sweet melody that resonated soul-deep.

Although in my current state I wouldn’t have minded staying in the bathroom all night, my rational self knew it wasn’t an option. Whoever had figured out my secret waited beyond the door, and if he’d gone to such lengths to get me out alone in the middle of the night, he was more patient than me.

Had he been responsible for my inability to reach my coworkers? I tried to summon anger and even fear, but it didn’t penetrate my high. I giggled and reached out for the white butterflies doing graceful figure eights in front of me before reason spoke up and told me they weren’t real. Sugar fairies. Nasty little blighters.

When my legs finally decided to lock at the knees again—though I still couldn’t stop laughing—I drew up a shred of courage to face the consequences of my carelessness. A tug opened the door and brought me face-to-face with a smug-looking Amun Bassili. The sight of his laughing, dark-rimmed eyes—resembling those of a stunning Egyptian pharaoh—and the night-black curls falling across his brow stunned me into silence.

The bastard was beautiful, I had to admit.

When my mental cogs reengaged, a scowl rearranged my face. “You!” I thrust an accusing finger at his face, but the momentum carried the rest of me into him.

He looped a strong arm around my back. “There we go. Steady, now.”

After another round of gut-twisting laughter, I thrust my palms against the lapels of his black suit to push him away. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I’ll be filing charges against you in the morning.” I turned on my heel too fast, hopping sideways and thumping against the wall. Although I’d have a nice bruise in the morning, no pain registered beyond my sugar trip.

A funnel cloud surpassed me, out of which Mr. Bassili reassembled molecule-by-molecule from his feet to the top of his head, like wind blowing away a sand sculpture, only in reverse.

Completely naked, he stood with a casualness that suggested he didn’t notice his lack of clothing. “And what charges would those be? Serving sugar to lady without her knowledge?”

My mouth gaped open. Unwilling to hear what he’d said, I concentrated on what I’d seen—and tried not to see—as my gaze fought to have its own personal peep show of his magnificent body. Had he truly turned into air, moved, and reappeared? Or had it been another illusion brought on by the soda?

“I uh…”
Brilliant, Lou.

Try as I might, I couldn’t muster a single intelligible phrase to say about the situation. As I stared at him, he pulled on his clothes from the pile near the bathroom door where he’d been standing before he blew away.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized he had me as far as the police went, but not with Isaac if it got back to Lord Grouchy Britches that his business partner had kidnapped one of his underlings.

I smiled back at Mr. Bassili, crossing my arms and ankles in mock casualness as I leaned against the wall for support. “I’m sure the hive lord will love to know you captured one of his children to pull off this little charade.”

Mr. Bassili threw his arms wide in a gesture of innocence, his shirt still unbuttoned. My, but he was stunning. “I did no such thing, on the soul of my mother, may lightning strike me dead if I should lie. Connor found signs of the creature in the maintenance room two days ago, but neither of us knew what it was.” His posture relaxed, if only slightly, and he laughed. “I didn’t know he could squeal so very like a frightened girl.”

A scoffing sound reverberated down the hallway. “I did not squeal like a girl!” That explained the dirt and discomfort in the suit that most likely belonged to Amun. Connor didn’t own the company; he was the maintenance man.

I didn’t budge for fear of kissing the carpet. “Do you have any idea how much danger I’m in with Isaac already? Especially if anything happens to that girl after she left here?” My voice broke into snickers, but a subtle cough sent them away. It wasn’t easy holding a glare and sense of seriousness when still in the grips of a sugar load.

“I don’t believe what the papers are suggesting about you, Miss Hudson.” Mr. Bassili drew in a deep breath and propped his palm against the wall beside me. He stroked a thumb over the painted surface in a strikingly sensual manner. “If I’d known it was one of his, I’d have called him directly. You see, he owns half of this facility, so it’s possible he sent her himself to audit our operations. He’s a sneaky bastard, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he has spies all over this city.”

My mind stilled when Mr. Bassili’s dark eyes, somewhere between midnight blue and forest green, captured me with a subtle twinkling in their depths that reminded me of stars behind a veil. “And your call?” I asked.

He smiled, one full of mischief. “I do want to have dinner with you, so I thought I’d try again. And honestly, if you knew it was me who owned this facility, you’d never have come, so I thought I’d throw you off a bit before sending Connor to beg for your help.” An adjustment of his body had him facing me, his shoulder pressed against the wall. “I’m in your debt. Allow me to make it up to you.”

“Save your hot air, Mr. Bassili. Even if I buy all of your smooth talk about the initial reason you brought me here, it does not excuse what you did when I arrived.” I swallowed and searched my mind for a way to approach him on the subject. There was no way he knew about me. I’d been too careful in erasing everything linking me to the jinn, no matter how obscure. “What did you put in my drink? Some sort of narcotic?”

“You know very well what was in it, though I must apologize for that.” His face tilted up to the ceiling, but I thought it might be to hide his amusement, then centered on me again. “I needed confirmation of what I suspected about you.”

He knows!
“What do you suspect?”

“Don’t be coy, Miss Hudson.”

“You know nothing of me.” I pushed off and strode to the main entrance with the grace of a deer on ice. “Contact me again, and I’ll have you arrested for harassment.” A thrust of my palm against the door sent it slamming against the brick siding. I burst out and rushed to my car. The damp air did nothing to clear the sugar fairies dive-bombing my head.

Shaking with drunkenness and ire, I fumbled the keys, dropping them to the pavement twice before I engaged the unlock button. Once my behind plopped into the driver’s seat, I started the engine and gripped the wheel. My headlights shone two round circles on the building in front of me, which turned to four, and then six, and then blurred before returning to two.

Several bangs of my forehead against the steering wheel didn’t help. It wasn’t safe for me to drive while still so high. Wouldn’t the media love to catch me on a DUI charge? Though, on second thought, the police wouldn’t find a trace of alcohol in my blood, creating a much larger problem. I wouldn’t risk it, not even to get away from Amun Bassili.

A search of my pockets didn’t turn up my cell phone. I must have dropped it somewhere inside. “Bloody hell.” I turned off the car, slammed the door, and stomped back into the building. “Mr. Bassili!” I shouted to the empty lobby.

Wiping his hands on a towel, he appeared from the door I assumed to be the staff kitchen. His smug expression and lack of surprise suggested he’d been waiting for me to return. “Something I can do for you?”

“You know bloody well what you can do for me.” I gripped my hips and leaned toward him, aching to smack the smile from his face. “Locate my cell phone so I can call myself a cab.” I almost added
please
before remembering how little I cared what he thought of my manners.

His head dipped in a mock bow before he leaned an elbow against the upper portion of the reception desk in a pose he used often on TV. Calvin Klein meets King Tut. “I’ll do you one better. Connor will drive you home in your car, and I’ll pick him up there later. That way, you’ll have your car when you wake up tomorrow.” A knowing smile stretched his lush lips wide. “That is, if you’re not still too sugar-drunk to drive even then.”

That confirmed it, he knew
.
I rubbed my throat in search of relief from the invisible noose tightening there. “I am not drunk, thank you very much.” I tossed up a hand in frustration, throwing myself off balance again. “And I’ll get home with no help from you.”

“You make it difficult for a man to show kindness to you. It’s an awfully long walk to Rhoda’s from here, and it’s late enough you might wait awhile for a cab.” His smile spread across his handsome face. “Of course, you’re welcome to wait here with me.”

Shoulders slumped in defeat, I glowered at him, too tired to argue with him when my wit seemed as drunk as me. “I’d rather be skinned and dipped in acid.” I huffed, furious at his well-planned machinations. “Fine. He may drive me home.” I whipped the keys at his head, but he caught them before they made contact. Terrible pity, that. “I’ll expect the rest of my payment by Monday.”

Connor came from the restroom and took my keys from his boss without comment. He’d either heard everything, or his driving me home had been part of the evening’s itinerary from the start. I’d have wagered on the latter.