jinn 03.5 - without a map (5 page)

Authors: liz schulte

BOOK: jinn 03.5 - without a map

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The three mean stalked closer, all from different angles.

“Where’s the fire, baby?” one said as another made a lunge in my direction.

My elbow connected with his face, just like Aunt Femi taught me, and he yelled as blood gushed from his nose. “You bitch,” he said, not coming any closer to me.

An arm scooped around my waist from behind and lifted me off of the ground. I kicked and thrashed against the unfamiliar touch, when Fisher came out of the darkness.

I knew it.

“Let her go,” he said, eyes glowing red.

The men stopped.

“What the fu—” one said, as Fisher launched himself at him. The one holding me dropped me, running in the opposite direction. As the body of the man Fisher attacked crumbled to ground. The guy with the broken nose backed away, hands held up in the air before he turned and ran.

Fisher took a step toward me and I took a step away.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Charlie.”

“That’s what they all say,” I breathed.

Even in the darkness I could see the hurt soak into him, but still his voice was as gentle as ever. “Just let me walk you home.”

All I had to do was send up one little prayer, something I should have remembered much sooner, and my mom would be here in an instant…but I didn’t. “Okay,” I said.

This time I didn’t mind the silence. It was better than talking. So many thoughts shot like bullets through my brain as we headed back to Maggie’s house. Fisher stopped at my driveway and I stopped next to him, not really sure what to say, let alone what I felt.

His eyes drilled into me as I stayed by his side instead of moving toward the house. I had to say something.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought you understood when I told you I was a cambion. I should have known.”

“Known what?” I asked.

“That it was too good to be true.” He ducked his head toward his chest and his shoulder rose up. “Goodbye, Charlie.” He took a couple steps away from me.

“Fisher,” I said and he turned around. No other words would come out, so I just shook my head.

He nodded. “It’s okay. You should probably go inside.”

So I did just that. I wasn’t in the mood to talk about my evening or why I was home so early. I went to the guest room and put on my pajamas before crawling between the covers, melancholy hanging over me. There was a soft knock on the door before Maggie cracked it open.

“You doing okay, kiddo?”

“Just tired,” I said. “A lot of walking today.” My voice cracked at the end and I hoped she didn’t notice.

A few seconds later the door clicked shut. I closed my eyes against tears that wanted to bubble up. I had lived too long and experienced too many tragedies to cry over a boy. Especially one that had probably intended on betraying me…except he didn’t know what I was. Unless he was just saying that and he knew all along…but he genuinely seemed surprised when I called him out.

Gentle peace blanketed the room and soothed my frayed nerves. I opened my eyes and sat up, tears immediately springing to them as my mom wrapped her arms around me, holding me tight. She didn’t say anything, just held me until I felt safe again and my thoughts were clearer.

“I didn’t stay with Aunt Maggie,” I said.

She nodded. “That’s okay. You’re allowed to have a life, Charlie.”

My lower lip trembled. “I don’t see how.”

She pressed her lips to my forehead. “Explain to me what you are afraid of.”

“Dying. Being hurt. Being tortured.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s true. You’ve died countless times before. You know you will come back. You have lived through pain and torture like no one should ever have to feel, but
you lived
. You’re strong, Charlie. Look deeper.”

The back of my throat burned. “I’m scared of losing you and Holden and Baker. I’m scared I’ll forget how to talk again and I won’t have any hope left to cling to. I’m scared that I’m not cut out for life in the Abyss and that will mean I will have to walk away from all of you, when you’re the only thing that has ever given me a reason to live.”

A tear rolled down her cheek. “You’ll never lose us, Charlie. I promise. I will always find you. If you want to live as a human we will support you of course, but you won’t have to walk away from us.” She took my hand. “Would you like to hear a secret?”

I nodded.

“Once you discover who you are, you’re going to thrive anywhere you choose to be, baby girl. There are no limits to what you can achieve.”

I ran a hand across my eyes guilt finally settling in. “I was pretty mean to Fisher.”

She smiled. “Did I ever tell you how Holden and I met?”

I shook my head. She stood up and walked around the bed, climbing in on the other side. “It all started in a bar…”

****

By the next morning Mom was gone and Baker talked nonstop about the concert he went to as we threw our stuff into the backseat before saying goodbye to Maggie.

“Sorry I was emotional last night,” I told her.

“I didn’t even notice,” she said with a wink. “You okay?”

I nodded. Talking to my mom had definitely helped. I still wasn’t sure I would ever be normal or even know what that meant, but I had her and Dad and even Baker, which was a lot more than most people had.

“But he might have.” Maggie nudged me and I turned to see Fisher once again shuffling past the house.

I headed his way. “Wait up,” I called out and he stopped but didn’t turn toward me. When I got to him the words stuck in my throat again, but I kept going. “I’m sorry I ran away. It’s complicated.”

He looked over at me. “You were pretty scared.”

I nodded. “I sometimes get panic attacks.”

A worried line creased between his brows. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “It wasn’t your fault,” I said soft enough that Baker hopefully couldn’t hear.

His left shoulder lifted in a half-hearted shrug. “I’m used to it.”

I stepped close enough to him I could touch him if I wanted to—though I still wasn’t positive that I did. “That’s not something you should be used to.” I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek, surprising both of us. “I misjudged you, Fisher.”

A goofy grin spread over his face. “I didn’t misjudge you at all.”

It was my turn to smile. “See you around?”

“Definitely.”

He opened the car door for me as I climbed in. Baker got in the other side and gave him the guy nod. “Hey, man.”

“Hey,” Fisher said.

Baker sized him up for a moment then looked at me with a frown. “Time to go, sis.”

Fisher closed the door and stepped away as we backed down the driveway. When we were back on the highway, headed for home, Baker looked over at me. “So, you like that guy?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. “

“Hmmm.” He watched the cars go by for a moment before a mischievous grin popped up. “You flipped your lid last night, huh? Totally freaked out on that poor guy from what I hear.”

“Shut up, Baker.”

He laughed. “You know what I think?”

“Better question: do I care?”

He leaned his seat all the way back and propped his feet up on the dashboard. “I think you’re going to be okay.”

I glanced over at him. It always came unexpectedly, but when Baker wanted to, he could be so sweet. “Do you ever wonder what mom and dad were really like before us?”

He opened one eye and looked at me—so much like dad. “Probably lame.”

And then other times, he was perfectly hopeless. But he was right about one thing. Whatever I decided to do, I’d be just fine because I had them—all of them.

MANY AUTHORS CLAIM to have known their calling from a young age. Liz Schulte, however, didn't always want to be an author. In fact, she had no clue. Liz wanted to be a veterinarian, then she wanted to be a lawyer, then she wanted to be a criminal profiler. In a valiant effort to keep from becoming Walter Mitty, Liz put pen to paper and began writing her first novel. It was at that moment she realized this is what she was meant to do. As a scribe she could be all of those things and so much more.

When Liz isn’t writing or on social networks she is inflicting movie quotes and trivia on people, reading, traveling, and hanging out with friends and family. Liz is a Midwest girl through and through, though she would be perfectly happy never having to shovel her driveway again. She has a love for all things spooky, supernatural, and snarky. Her favorite authors range from Edgar Allen Poe to Joseph Heller to Jane Austen to Jim Butcher and everything in between.

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Check out more books by Liz:

URBAN FANTASY/PARANORMAL ROMANCE

The Guardian Trilogy: