Book 1 in the Djinn Series
by Lisa Gail Green
Tricked into slavery by the man she loved, the Djinni Leela has an eternity to regret her choices.
Awakened in the prison of her adolescent body, she finds a new master in possession of the opal that binds her. But seventeen-year-old Jered is unlike any she’s seen. His kindness makes Leela yearn to trust again, to allow herself a glimmer of hope.
Could Jered be strong enough to free her from the curse of
The Binding Stone?
To my mother, Sharon.
Her “Yes, you cans” make all the “nos” in the world meaningless.
Chapter 18: A Blast from My Past
Chapter 26: The Benefit of Company
Chapter 28: An Expert at Causing Pain
Chapter 29: Lessons from the Father
Chapter 62: Demon from My Past
Awakening
y eyes snap open
the moment I feel it. The magic is palpable. It tingles as it
travels up and down my arms. I am not happy. Whoever dares disturb my
century-long slumber will suffer my wrath. That’s a promise.
I let the power drift over and through me, soaking it up like a human does
sunlight. My fingertips practically crackle with it. Voices become clear now,
sounds that assault my ears like daggers after the blissful silence of
nothingness. I prefer to sleep. Then I don’t have to think. Or remember.
“Really? Only ten?” The voice of a young man. But appearances can be deceiving. I know
from experience. In human form, I look like an innocent maiden. Well, perhaps
not
innocent
.
“Jer, remind me not to bring you along when I buy a used car,” comes the voice of
another young man. “Your haggling skills need some serious work.”
All of my senses are awake now, but I am careful to remain invisible to human eyes.
I am in some sort of modern marketplace. It is small but cluttered, centered in
front of a brick house with several people milling about the lawn and walkways.
Whatever time I’m in, the women wear far less clothing than the last. I spy a
girl who is closest in appearance to myself. A smile tugs at the edges of
my mouth, and I quickly change from the heavily draped fabrics of my last master’s
time, mirroring her outfit exactly. I must be about fifty pounds lighter
wearing what feels like no more than undergarments. I nod my head in approval.
I think I am going to enjoy this century.
Now to locate and destroy the source of the threat. It is not difficult. I follow
the same girl’s blushing gaze just as he speaks.
“I’ll take it,” says the one named Jer, and I see that he is indeed the One. His aura
glows like none of the others. A rainbow of iridescent colors pulsates and
bleeds around him like a force-field. This is too easy.
Gathering my energy, I raise my hands. All it will take is one blast, directed at the
handsome boy busy handing a piece of green paper to an elderly woman. And he
will cease to exist. But I feel it as I let go, and even before it bounces
harmlessly off of his aura I know. So I scream. It is not as though anyone can
hear it. Not yet.
“Never figured you’d go for the whole bling thing,” says the one with glasses and a
dull, human, aura. “Try it on.”
I watch helplessly as Jer slips the ring on his middle finger. The large opal in
the center gleams a little too brightly, and I tug at the choker around my
neck, running my thumb along the matching stone. I hope the ten-paper is worth
more than it appears.
“Great. Can we go now please?” The friend does not like it here. I cannot blame him. My
nose wrinkles up as I scan the rest of the market – a few scattered tables
covered in odd objects, dusty boxes stacked and interspersed between them. Most
things I don’t recognize, but it all looks like junk to me. So how did I end up
here? Just one more indignity to add to the list.
I trail behind as the two boys move away and down the street. The chilled wind is
refreshing after my sleep. I let my bare arms stretch out behind me, and
goosebumps prickle along my skin. Only a few homes away, they amble up the
uneven brick walk, scattering fall’s last crisp leaves before bursting inside
of the two-story house. Not bad. Although I’m fairly certain this “Jer” will be
upgrading soon. I continue following them up creaking wooden steps and into a
small room with a well-worn bed, dresser, and desk. Pictures of half-naked
women hang on the scuffed walls. Hmm.