Sinjin

  “Everything Sinjin does is over the top,” Jolie laughed as she shook her head in apparent wonder regarding the incredibly handsome vampire. “Moderation doesn’t exist in his vocabulary.” She approached me and plopped both of the large, paper shopping bags on the bed beside me. I closed the Vogue magazine and placed it on my bedside table as I sat up. Rubbing the back of my neck, I had no idea what to make of Sinjin’s … gifts. I vacillated between being pissed off at becoming his latest charity case, and getting excited at the prospect of something new and clean to wear.

  Jolie exhaled like she had a big job ahead of her, but she dug into the bags and produced every sort of workout pants possible—capris, slim-fitted, bootcut, you name it. All of them were dark colors as well—mostly black, but some were charcoal and a few were dark green and blue. They were exactly what I would have picked out for myself. I couldn’t believe how well Sinjin had managed to pinpoint my taste.

  As a soldier, and defender of my people, I never wore anything that would restrict my movements, thereby handicapping or preventing me from fighting. And yoga pants were pretty hard to beat when it came to unlimited movement. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d worn a pair of jeans. Come to think of it, I didn’t even own a pair. And dresses or skirts were simply out of the question. I’d never so much as even tried a dress or a skirt on.

  “This pair makes thirteen,” Jolie counted as she pulled the final pair of pants from the bag. They looked the least like workout pants. Instead, they were somewhat baggy with a drawstring closure. They were still made out of Spandex, though, and therefore functional. Glancing at the tag, she read: “Lululemon size four.” Then she looked over at me and raised her eyebrows. “Nice that someone I’m related to is a size four.”

  “How did he know my size?” I asked, frowning at her. Shaking my head, I couldn’t conceal my surprise.

  Jolie shrugged. “He’s Sinjin.” Then she turned to the second bag and pulled out an array of sports bras, T-shirts and slim-fitted hoodies. “Under Armour, Stella McCartney for Adidas, Lululemon,” she repeated the names on the tags as she eyed me with a smile. “No one could ever accuse Sinjin of possessing anything less than very expensive taste.”

  “We only discussed my clothing, or lack thereof, last night,” I said as I tried to figure out how he’d managed to get all this stuff back here so fast. “And lots of these items would only be available online, since the companies are based in North America.” Even if the websites shipped internationally, there’s no way the items could have arrived so quickly.

  “He’s Sinjin,” Jolie said again, like that was answer enough. She laughed and then shrugged again. “Don’t try to figure him out because you’ll just drive yourself crazy.” She sighed and a big smile brightened her face as, apparently, she thought about the vampire. “Sinjin is an enigma.”

  “I’m not interested in figuring him out anyway,” I replied with a frown. “He’s nothing to me,” I added, just to make sure she and I were on the same page. Well, really, just to make sure I was on the same page with myself. Yes, I’d had to remind myself more than once that Sinjin was no friend of mine.

  The sad truth was: in the few hours of sleep I’d gotten after Sinjin left me alone, he’d featured in all of my dreams. And one or two of them hadn’t exactly been rated PG, much to my bewildered chagrin.

  “Hey,” I started, remembering something. “Do you know what a bête noir is?”

  Jolie eyed me skeptically at first before the expression dissipated from her eyes. “Sinjin called you that?” I just nodded as she started to laugh and shook her head like she wasn’t surprised. The fact that she appeared to be close to the vampire suddenly irritated me. It riled me mostly because no blood relation of mine should have been dumb enough to trust a vampire. That was rule number one.

  “A bête noir is someone who is disliked by other people,” she answered, doing her best to suppress an annoying grin.

  “Hmm, interesting,” I said with a frown as anger began growing inside me. Someone who was disliked by other people! Sinjin Sinclair had nerve!

  “It’s Sinjin’s way of flirting with you,” she added, as if to say I shouldn’t be alarmed by his name games. “Don’t take it too personally.”

  “I’m not taking it personally because I don’t care,” I answered indifferently, my jaw set tight. “Like I said before, he’s nothing to me. He’s my enemy as much as anyone else here is.”

  She nodded as she looked at me, but seemed a little dejected. “Anyway, I’m sure you’re eager to get out of those clothes and into something new and clean,” she began. I didn’t respond so she continued. “And I bet you’d appreciate a shower too?”

  “Yes,” I answered quickly. I was mostly excited by the prospect of getting out of my room because it was starting to make me claustrophobic. I wasn’t used to being indoors for extended periods of time. Usually, I was outside, teaching our tribespeople how to fight, or use their magic, or brave the elements. That or I’d be out running, each day trying to better my own speed record.

  “Well, pick out what you want to wear for the day and I’ll lead the way,” Jolie said with another tentative smile. She clapped her hands together, but her expression suggested there was something she wasn’t telling me. And if there was anything I knew about myself, I knew I was good at reading people.

  “Why do I detect that you have another reason for this visit besides dropping off gifts and asking me if I want to shower?” I asked while dropping the magazine on the bed beside me and studying her pointedly.

  “Um, well,” she started, but clomped her lips together as if she wasn’t sure how to word her response.

  “Spit it out,” I demanded as I looked down at the bed, which was now covered in clothes. I reached for the Lululemon pull-string, navy blue pants and an Under Armour sports bra in a charcoal grey. Since it was nighttime, and damn cold in Scotland, I also opted for the heaviest of the hoodies, which happened to be black.

  “I’ve asked my panel of advisors to meet this evening,” Jolie started, studying me curiously.

  “Okay,” I answered as I tore the tags off the various items of clothing, not sure why my sister’s panel of advisors had anything to do with me. “So where do I fit in?”

  “I want to introduce them to you and you to them,” she explained, setting her chin out defiantly, as if she expected me to argue or protest.

  Looking over at her, I didn’t try to mask my surprise because I had no idea why she would want her panel of advisors to meet me, or vice versa. “Do you normally introduce your prisoners to your friends?” I asked. Struggling with one of the plastic tags, I gripped it between my teeth and tugged at the plastic, feeling it yield to my bite. I spat out the plastic end and then pulled the other half from the waistband of the pants.

  “Bryn, I don’t want you to be my prisoner,” she replied, shaking her head and opening her arms wider in a submissive gesture.

  “That’s all fine and great,” I started with a sigh, “but it begs the question of what, exactly, do you want me to be?” I draped the clothes over my arm and started for the door, letting her know in no uncertain terms that I was ready to get the hell out of my room.

  “I don’t know,” she answered as she nodded and followed me. She seemed frustrated by her response or maybe it was just the situation in general. I didn’t know and I told myself I didn’t care. “I have to …” she began as she gave me an apologetic smile, but I already knew what was coming. It was the same thing she did every time she escorted me to the bathroom.

  “I know,” I said. I closed my eyes and allowed her to momentarily blind me with her magic. That way, she could lead me to the bathroom without me seeing my surroundings. “Is this really necessary? It’s not like we ever venture beyond the confines of this house anyway,” I pointed out.

  “The house has windows,” she answered.

  “I already know I’m in Scotland.”

  “Okay, but do you know where in Scotland you are???
?

  “Point taken,” I grumbled.

  “This will only take a second,” she said. I could feel the energy from her hands as it radiated over my face. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to—it was more than obvious that her magic was working on me. After a gentle breeze caressed my face, I couldn’t see anything but the blackness of my own eyelids.

  Jolie took my hand and a burst of energy instantly traveled up my arm. I immediately wanted to pull away from her, but couldn’t in my current state—or I’d probably end up walking headlong into the wall. “Do you feel that?” I asked.

  “I feel it every time we touch each other,” she replied calmly. “I have a feeling that our powers are magnetically attracted and, together, they probably create more power exponentially.”

  “Hmm,” I answered, thinking the same thing, but preferring not to admit it.

  She removed the magical wards that were obstructing the door to ensure I was kept in place, and led me out of my room. As far as I could surmise, and from the information I’d gleaned after reading the minds of the guards outside my door, I was in some sort of guest house located somewhere on the main property of Jolie’s headquarters. The guards were usually eating when I listened in on their conversations, so I knew there was a kitchen just down the hall from my room. The restroom was beside the kitchen.

  “How many bedrooms does this place have?” I asked as I inched along, feeling unsure of myself without my vision to rely on. But Jolie’s grip was firm and sure and, in the end, I just allowed myself to be led by her even though it didn’t please me.

  “Two,” Jolie answered.

  “What do you think about putting me in the other bedroom just for a change of scenery?” I muttered. I continued to take baby steps down the hallway. “I’m sick to death of being pent up in that bedroom all day long with not a damned thing to do.”

  “No,” Jolie answered immediately. I was suddenly flooded with the feeling that the other room had bad energy, like something negative must’ve happened there. I flashed on a dark-haired woman just as the information that she was Jolie’s prisoner crossed my mind.

  “Who was she?” I asked, after receiving the distinct impression that the woman was dead.

  “Her name was Bella,” Jolie answered. “You’re going to make a right around the wall,” she instructed as she led me around the wall at the end of the hallway and then into the restroom. “She was a witch who waged war against our side…and lost.”

  “She was a witch?” I repeated. “So she was one of your kind?”

  “Yes,” Jolie answered and I could detect her irritation at my reference to “her kind.” Apparently, she considered me to be one of her kind as well… I wasn’t.

  “So you killed her … or what?” I asked. The sound of the door closing behind us meant we were now inside the bathroom. I blinked a few times as soon as Jolie removed the blinders from my eyes. Glancing around myself, I took in the large, subway-tiled shower, which was butted up against an enormous bathtub. Across from the tub and shower were the sink and toilet. I set my clothes on the edge of the sink, and sat down on the lid of the toilet before untying my tennis shoes.

  “I didn’t kill her,” Jolie started, crossing her arms over her chest, almost protectively. “Luce did.”

  “Luce?” I repeated as I frowned up at her, shaking my head. “How is that possible? How could Luce have been in touch with her in the first place? It’s not like Luce has ever been here, or even knows where ‘here’ is?”

  “It’s entirely possible because that’s what happened,” Jolie retorted matter-of-factly. “Luce visited Bella, whether in her visions or in person, I’m not sure. But he told her that your people intended to wage war against us. He also lied to her and told her she was meant to be queen, not me.”

  “Why would Luce do that?” I asked, not grasping the sense in any of it. Then I reminded myself not to put any trust in my sister. As the queen of the Underworld, she was no better than a spider, weaving a web of lies.

  “Because it was the only way he could reach me,” she answered. “Bella attacked me; and combined with Luce’s power, the two of them would have killed me.”

  “Okay, that makes no sense at all because Luce never wanted to kill you,” I argued with her, frowning all the while as I pointed out a gaping hole in her story. “He wanted you to become one of us.”

  “I understand that,” she replied with comparable frustration. “But that was the whole point to his plan. He offered me his hand while saying it was the only way I could ensure my own survival. And, of course, the first thing I thought about was my baby’s survival. So, really, what other choice did I have?” She took a deep breath. “It was either die or accept his help. It was the perfect way to ensure that I did what he wanted me to do.”

  “And that’s when you ended up at our camp?” I asked. I placed my shoes and socks in a neat pile beside the shower. And, even though I didn’t want to do it, I honed in on my sister’s belly just to make sure her baby was still okay. Because I knew her pregnancy was a risky one, I found myself checking on her baby constantly. As soon as I focused on the life growing inside of her, I was rewarded with a burst of energy that seemed to radiate out of her.

  “Yes,” Jolie answered as she faced me quizzically, obviously aware that I wasn’t fully focused on our conversation.

  I cleared my throat. “I, um, was just checking on your baby,” I said in a small voice as I pretended to pull an errant thread out of the hem of one of my pant legs.

  “Oh,” Jolie responded and sounded surprised.

  “Everything’s good,” I informed her and then faced the shower, obviously uncomfortable with the direction our conversation had headed.

  Jolie turned to face the door. “I’ll leave you alone now,” she said. “Just holler when you’re ready to be escorted to the main house.”

  “So you’re really going to introduce me to everyone?” I asked, my voice hinting at my disbelief. As far as I was concerned, it wasn’t a good idea to give the enemy any sort of information, but luckily for me, Jolie wasn’t on my side.

  “Yes,” she answered succinctly.

  “And how does Rand feel about it?” I asked, expecting the pragmatic warlock not to be in agreement with any of it. In fact, from the few instances when I was able to pick up Jolie’s thoughts, I got the distinct feeling that she and Rand were arguing about me.

  She started to smile at the mention of her handsome mate. “He’s just … protective.”

  I nodded as I turned on the shower and waited for the hot water to heat up. “I wouldn’t call it protective; I’d call it logical and sensible.”

  “You’re my sister, Bryn,” Jolie insisted, shaking her head.

  “I’m your enemy,” I corrected her. “The sooner you realize that, the better.”

  She didn’t say anything but just stared at me blankly for a few seconds. Then she turned the doorknob and walked out of the bathroom.

  ###

  As expected, Jolie again momentarily blinded me as she led me outside the confines of the guest house in which I was being held prisoner. As soon as we walked through what I assumed was the front door, a cold, salty breeze chilled me. It was blowing off the ocean. I took my time as we traversed the uneven cobblestones underfoot before I heard Jolie opening another door and we walked inside again.

  “It isn’t proper for the queen to bother with her prisoners,” a woman’s voice announced right next to my right ear at the same moment as said woman took my arm. A burst of energy shot up my arm as soon as she touched me. I tried to yank it away from her, but she held onto me tightly.

  “Bryn is my sister, Mercedes,” Jolie explained icily. “She’s not an ordinary prisoner.”

  “She is a Lurker and, therefore, your prisoner, first and foremost,” the woman insisted, her tone hinting at the power that lived within her. I honed in on her voice and attempted to read her mind so I could find out who or what the hell she was. As soon as I did though,
a flare, like an electric shock, crashed through my head, feeling like my brain was being cooked. I immediately dropped to my knees, grabbing my head with both hands as I gasped in pain. It felt like I’d just been electrocuted.

  “Bryn!” Jolie cried out, instantly coming to my side. “What’s happened to her?” she demanded, addressing the other woman. I could feel her arms around me.

  “She attempted to eavesdrop on my thoughts,” Mercedes answered, her voice calm, yet definitely cold and calculating. “And she learned a valuable lesson.”

  I pushed Jolie away from me and stood up, unappreciative of anyone who intended on babying me. I was a warrior, not a weakling. “I’m okay,” I managed, even though my brain was still reeling. I also couldn’t see anything, which only made the situation worse. It took me a few minutes to catch my breath and calm my frantic heartbeat down.

  “Your subjects must not see you trifling with this prisoner,” Mercedes continued. “I never approved of this ludicrous idea from the get-go.”

  “I don’t care,” Jolie argued. “We can’t leave Bryn locked up in that bedroom forever. We need an alternative.”

  Mercedes sighed and I could hear the frustration in her breath. “Very well. You go ahead of us and I will lead the Lurker into the Green Room when you are ready for her.”

  “Okay,” Jolie answered, sounding tentative. When I heard the sound of a door opening and closing again, I figured my sister was now gone.

  “So, I’m assuming you’re the prophetess?” I asked the woman who was still holding my arm. I rubbed my temples, still feeling the echo of the torment she’d just put me through. The power coming off her was intense—so much so that I knew she couldn’t be anything other than the prophetess.