“It’s even creepier when it’s being used.”
The stones sat silent for now, ghostly monoliths that could pulse with power so strong and deep it had once made me momentarily deaf and extremely nauseous.
“You know I’m changing, Charlie, or I wouldn’t be here to help with the investigation,” Rex said at length.
“I know, Rex. But you’re just regaining some of your old jinn traits. You’re not developing powers beyond what a jinn is naturally capable of. And telepathy is not a jinn trait. I brought you with me because of what a jinn can naturally do.”
“I can only tell you if I sense a jinn presence at the crime scene, so I’m not sure how much that’s going to help.”
“It’ll help a lot. It’ll rule them out. The only eyewitness says he saw a large gray-skinned being near the lake.” And since the jinn had skin that ran the spectrum of medium gray to dark gray, and were built like linebackers, they were the first to come to mind, unfortunately. There was also the darkling fae, but they were thin, sinewy beings and definitely didn’t fit into the “large” category.
But a jinn? That spelled all sorts of trouble. Nymphs were from Elysia. Jinn were from Charbydon. They weren’t known for being friendly since the beings of “heaven” and “hell” had continually warred for eons. Here in Atlanta, the ITF and local representatives from all the races made sure peace was maintained and treaty laws adhered to—a sort of neutral ground for all beings. But none of that stopped years of bias and hate. And when it came to the boss of the local jinn tribe, Grigori Tennin, and the nymphs’ Druid King . . . well, those two made fire and water look like friends.
So, yeah, a jinn here in nymph territory? Not good. A jinn murdering a nymph within said territory? Monumentally
Ahkneri’s words were usually too distant to understand, and they were brushed with a sadness that made me ache. I had a strange connection with the divine being hidden beneath the lake—weird dreams, the ability to sometimes sense her emotions, understand her language. The First Ones were supposed to be a myth and to most people they were. But to some, like Grigori Tennin and the Sons of Dawn cult, she was their ticket to starting a three-world war. He’d stop at nothing to find her.
The First Ones were the ancestors to humans, Elysian Adonai, and the Charbydon nobles. Their existence would prove to the worlds that the nobles were related to the Adonai, and that they were indeed cast out of Elysia in the forgotten past. If the nobles were to learn the truth, they’d launch an all-out war against the Adonai to take back their true homeland. It would leave the jinn in charge of Charbydon, free from noble oppression, and Earth in the middle of a war we’d no doubt get sucked into.
For the sake of all three worlds, Ahkneri had to stay hidden.
If Rex said there was no jinn signature anywhere near the body, one crisis averted. If not, I didn’t even want to think about it, especially since I was supposed to be leaving for Elysia and the siren city of Fiallan tomorrow.
As we drew closer to the colossal wooden structure rising up through the trees, the temperature dropped slightly and the air became cooler and scented with lake water. Rex whistled in appreciation, his steps slowing as he ogled the nymphs’ temple with its huge wooden columns the size of California redwoods. I kept moving, going through the structure, the main courtyard, and to the dock that stretched out over the lake.
Liz and her crew were already on the shoreline near the dock. “The chief fill you in?” she asked as I approached.
“A little while ago. I hear we have a body in the lake and one highly uncooperative Druid King.”
The ITF’s lead medical examiner and gifted necromancer snorted at that. “Highly uncooperative is being nice.” She glared at the figure at the end of the dock through horn-rimmed eyeglasses.
“Careful,” I said, smiling. “You keep shooting eye missiles at him like that you’re going to melt your lenses.”
Liz frowned, and then shoved her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “He
“I noticed. If it makes you feel any better, he does that to everyone. Here, hold this.” I handed her my coffee cup, which she took but didn’t know what the hell to do with, and said, “Wish me luck.”
My boots echoed on the wooden planks as I approached the Kinfolk’s spiritual leader, enforcer, protector, and all-around badass. And those titles were
He stood at the end of the dock, alone, hands tucked into his pants pockets, a white T-shirt stretching over his broad back, and his black hair just touching the collar. His focus was on the scene in the lake as two search- and-rescue officers in a dinghy pulled a corpse to shore. Liz hurried closer to the waterline.
A soundless flash of green in the undulating gray mass above us illuminated the dark water and its corpse for a split second. I felt for the nymphs. The Grove was a sanctuary, a home with defined borders patrolled day and night. One of their own had been killed within those borders. And as far as I knew, that had never happened before.
I walked into a thick wave of rage, strong enough to knock the unprepared back a few steps. But I expected Pen’s wrath. I stopped next to him at the end of the dock, watching the scene unfold for a moment, letting him get used to my presence. “I’m sorry for your loss, Pen. The chief said you have an eyewitness?”
At first he didn’t reply. He continued to stare at the scene, his profile hard as granite. The winding Celtic-style tattoo, which I knew to encompass the entire left side of his body—toes to hand to temple—was stark against the exposed skin; pale not from fear, but from blinding rage.
I went to repeat the question, but he turned.
And didn’t even spare me a glance because his gaze zeroed in on Rex like predator to prey.
It dawned on me then what a huge mistake I’d made. Of course Pen would know, would sense that despite the human figure walking down the dock, it was a jinn coming toward us.
I stepped in front of the Druid King. Probably not the wisest of moves, but I didn’t really have a choice. My hand eased back my jacket to rest on the grip of my right sidearm. “Stop, Pen,” I warned. “Don’t do it.”
His nostrils flared. A shimmer of abalone color filtered over Pen’s irises, the same color I knew was on the underside of his enormous black wings. If Pen turned dragon and went after what he saw as a jinn coming toward him, we were screwed.
The Druid had nearly declared war on Grigori Tennin and the jinn when Daya, one of his Kinfolk, had died, caught up as she was in Tennin’s plan to reveal Ahkneri to the world. Now Pen believed a jinn had invaded his territory and killed another one of his kin. And to add insult to injury, a jinn was coming down the dock.
Pen’s features had turned from harsh to downright homicidal.
My vision went cloudy. Heart pounding, I did everything I could to prevent my own power from rising in response. “He’s with me. He’s here to tell us if your eyewitness really saw a jinn. Rex was a Revenant, Pen. He hasn’t
But Pen wasn’t listening, and Rex had stopped still, like a mouse caught in the gaze of a cobra.
“He lives in my house,” I went on. “He’s in the body of my ex-husband and my kid loves him. I swear to God if you go after him,” I promised with a conviction that came from the depths of my soul, “I’ll do whatever it takes to stop you.”
No one moved for the longest time, which was good because I needed everything I had to keep a lid on my power as Pen struggled to regain control, his dragon and his grief warring with his own good sense.
He looked down at my hand pressed flatly and firmly against his chest. I hadn’t even realized he’d moved forward or that I had touched him. My other hand was still wrapped around the grip of my gun. A raven eyebrow arched. The alpha, the ruler, in him would never move back, so I dropped both hands and took one step back.
“Keep him away from me,” he snarled in a deep voice brimming with power.
Crisis averted. I let out a shaky breath. “Okay. No problem. I can do that.” I walked back to Rex on shaky legs. “Go to the courtyard and wait for me there.”
