djinn wars 02 - taken Read Free Page A

he hadn’t been thinking like a djinn. He’d been thinking like the man who loved me.
    The doorbell sounded, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. At least, I thought it was the doorbell. I’d never heard it before.
    My frazzled brain eventually processed the meaning of that doorbell ringing. Someone was standing outside the door. How had they gotten into the compound? Climbed over the gate? Then I decided that wasn’t really the important consideration here.
    Someone was outside.
    And irritated, too, by the way they rang the doorbell again, then started banging on the door.
    An unfamiliar voice — a woman’s voice — called out, “I know you’re in there, Jessica! Open the goddamn door! It’s freezing out here!”
    That someone was a woman, and she knew my name. What the ever-loving hell?
    Before I could even stop to think about what I was doing, I crossed the living room, then hesitated for a few seconds. That could be anyone out there. Someone from the Los Alamos group, come to finish me off. That didn’t sound right, though. I hadn’t seen one woman in their group; clearly, they didn’t seem to think women made good enforcers.
    You’re crazy, Jessica, I thought, just before I turned the deadbolt and opened the door. Outside on the porch stood a young woman around my age, a pretty Hispanic girl wearing a red and green Nordic-style knitted cap and a bulky red parka, both of which were dusted with snow.
    I’d never seen her before.
    We stared at each other for a few seconds, and then she said, “Are you going to let me in? Because you’d better, if you ever want to see your djinn lover alive again.”

Chapter Two

    Because speech seemed to have deserted me for the moment, I opened the door a little wider and let her in. She pushed past me and yanked the cap off her head, shaking her hair so little bits of snow flew off and landed on the Navajo rug. A streak of red cut through her dark, dark hair — even darker than mine — and she had short bangs cut Bettie Page style. In one hand she held a shiny black patent leather weekender bag.
    “Who — ” I finally managed after I had shut the door and saw her standing in the middle of the room, giving it an admiring once-over even as she bent slightly to let her bag drop to the floor.
    “Nice place,” she remarked. “We were just holed up in a king suite at the Ohkay Owingeh casino in Española. This beats the hell out of that.” Apparently taking pity on my complete befuddlement, the girl added, “I’m Evony Rodriguez.”
    “Uh, hi,” I said. Then I forced myself to get a grip, even though the appearance of this strange young woman was apparently the final shock in a very long day. “Jessica Monroe.”
    “I know.” She unzipped her parka, revealing a tight-fitting black sweater worn over a lace-trimmed cami. It seemed clear enough that this Evony had been taking a lot more care with her appearance since the end of the world than I had. Her full lips were coated with lipstick in a scarlet shade that almost matched the streak in her black hair, and her long lashes had a thick layer of mascara. “You were right where I was told to find you.”
    “Wait — you were sent here?” Suspicion sharpened my tone. “Who sent you?”
    “Whoa,” she replied, holding up her hands. “I’m on your side. I’m Chosen, just like you. We need to stick together, especially with those assholes from Los Alamos running around and making everyone’s lives miserable.”
    “So you know about them?”
    “Of course.” Evony took her parka over to the coat tree in the corner and hung it up. Seeing it there next to Jace’s winter coat made my throat tighten all over again. The Los Alamos crew had captured him when he was only wearing a fleece pullover with a T-shirt underneath. I doubted whether they cared if he took a chill or suffered from the cold. They’d probably laugh and tell him to make his own fire, since he was a djinn. I didn’t think he was that kind of