Chapter Thirteen

Genevieve

"Checking your watch again? I'm starting to think you can't wait to get away from us." Tiny laughed at the blush staining my cheeks.

"That's not true! I love working with all of you!" I hurried to protest.

"I bet it's because of that sexy piece of man candy she brought to the rose show. That man never took his eyes off her!" Bitzy laughed and dodged the pen I threw at her.

"I'm surprised she can talk with the way he makes her scream." Barker joined in the banter and I stuck my tongue out at the fairy, which she playfully returned as she headed back toward the reception desk.

Frost closed his laptop. "Well, good news, Vi. It's time to head home to your lover boy." He threw his backpack over his shoulder and winked at me as he passed.

"Hang on, we'll walk out with you!" Bitzy called after him as her and Tiny gathered their things.

"Be sure to get at least a couple hours of sleep tonight," my cryptid coworker whispered as she and Tiny hurried past me to catch up.

"I can't wait until you start dating someone and I can return all this teasing!" I shouted after her.

She gave me a single finger salute, then blew me a kiss over her shoulder. Shaking my head, I closed my laptop and started tucking my personal items into my shoulder bag.

As I headed past the reception desk, I noticed Barker was still sitting in front of the screen. Her usually bright, cheerful face appeared stressed.

"Everything okay, B?" I changed course and headed toward the desk.

"It's fine. Just my computer seems to have taken a client spreadsheet and mangled it beyond repair. If I can't fix it, I'll have to cancel my girls' weekend and spend hours gathering the information from scratch so I have it in time for Monday's presentation." She looked up at me, and I could see her eyes were red.

"You've been crying!" I placed my bag on the desktop and moved around to take the spare chair beside her. "I'm pretty good with spreadsheets. Let's take a look at it real quick."

Barker hesitated. "Are you sure? I know you're excited to head home."

"I'm sure! This probably won't take more than a half hour to fix. Now scoot over and let me get in here."

Barker threw her arms around my neck. "You're the best! I'll owe you one!"

It took exactly thirty-four minutes to restore the jumbled spreadsheet to its original glory. I still couldn't figure out how her computer had managed to mangle it so badly. Heck, half of it hadn't even been in English.

I wiggled in the backseat of the taxi as we turned onto my street. My heart pounded and my hands trembled in anticipation. Would I ever get used to arriving home to Roam? I doubted it.

Hopping out of the car before it had even come to a full stop, I thanked the driver and rushed up the sidewalk. My excitement turned to unease as I noticed the house was dark.

The sun was low enough on the horizon that they normally would have the lights on inside the house. Maybe they'd decided to grill out back, and were waiting for me to join them. Yes, that was it.

Excitement bubbled in my chest and I picked up my pace.

All hope that things were okay vanished when I reached for the door handle and found the door wasn't latched. Not sure what I was going to find, and wanting to be able to move quickly if needed to, I lowered my bag onto the porch and silently kicked off my heels.

I cautiously pushed the door open and stepped inside. The setting sun cast its light onto the destroyed interior of the house.

My dining table had been flipped, and pieces of the chairs were scattered about the room. The few decorations I'd brought from the mainland lay shattered on the floor. Glitter sparkled all over the room, causing bile to rise in my throat, choking me.

Things could be replaced. But where were my mother and Roam? He wouldn't have allowed this type of damage to my house unless he'd been injured… or worse.

A soft thud came from the kitchen. It grew louder, repeating over and over.

Thud, thud, thud.

I kept close to the wall as I moved soundlessly toward the noise. It was coming from my pantry. Grabbing a knife from the sink, I crept closer and flung open the door.

"MOM!" I gasped, dropping to my knees.

Ropes were tied around her ankles, and her wrists were tied behind her back. Yanking the kitchen dishcloth from her mouth, I fought panic.

"Are you hurt?" I was surprised that instead of tears, I felt anger.

The moment her hands were free, mom batted my hands away. "Stop that! I'm fine! A little stiff, but no lasting damage. They snuck up on Roam. I heard him shout and hurried in here to find him collapsed on the floor. The next thing I know, something hit the back of my head and I don't remember much else."

"You said they? Did you see them?" I demanded, my fingernails digging into my palms.

"I only saw a man, but I thought I heard a second voice. Is Roam okay?" She peered out of the closet, searching for him.

"I haven't checked upstairs, but I didn't see any sign of him down here. If you're okay, I'm going to go search for him."

"Go, hurry!" she ordered.

Leaping to my feet, I ran up the stairs, searching the two rooms and bathrooms. He was nowhere to be found. Rushing back downstairs, I ran to the bookshelf for his lamp, hoping maybe he'd disappeared inside it to heal from an injury or something.

I skidded to a stop and felt my blood turn to ice as I stared at the empty shelf. They'd taken Roam and his lamp.

Stumbling back toward the pantry, I sagged to the floor beside my mom. My mind spun as my world collapsed. I was a graphic designer, not a secret agent or a paranormal with special abilities. The truth was I didn't even know how to start looking for him.

My first guess would have been Linda. She clearly wanted the lamp for her collection, which made me think maybe it had a high monetary value, but why would she take Roam? Plus, mom said a man had been the one to tie her up.

My eyes drifted to the ropes that had been used to restrain my mom. No, they weren't ropes. They were lime green bungee cords.

I didn't own a set of bungee cords, which meant the kidnapper had brought the cords with him. Did that mean this was a professional job? What if Linda hired someone to break in and steal the lamp so she didn't have to get her hands dirty? Maybe Roam had seen their faces and they couldn't risk leaving him behind and telling the police.

Rushing to the porch, I dug my phone out of my handbag. I unlocked the screen and pressed it into mom's hand. "Call the cops. Get them here and an ambulance to check you out."

With that, I bolted toward the front door and dashed down the street. Linda said she'd moved into the neighborhood and had motioned toward the homes that sat in the less populated part of the subdivision.

My bare feet pounded against the sandy asphalt as I ran down the sidewalk. I didn't have a plan, and I knew what I was doing was stupid. But I didn't care. The need to do something—anything—to find Roam drove me forward.

I scanned each house, searching for anything that stood out or a sign of Linda. It was the truck parked in front of the last house on the street that caused me to stumble to a stop.

My mind flashed to the day I'd moved into my house. I'd sat on a stack of boxes watching the movers unpack my furniture and carry it into the house. Furniture they'd secured in the moving truck using lime green bungee cords.

How were the movers involved with Linda? Dropping to a crouch, I ran along the fence-line toward the moving van. I reached the driver's side door first and opened it. It didn't take long to search the truck and confirm the lamp wasn't there.

I did find a box cutter, and slipped it into my pocket. It would have been smarter to bring the giant knife from the kitchen, but nothing about my race to find Roam had been well-planned. I was the chick who would die at the beginning of the movie for doing something stupid, like running straight into a creepy murder workshop or taking a shortcut through a graveyard.

Moving to the back of the truck, I found the liftgate was open. But the truck was empty.

Except for a thin layer of familiar purple dust. Roam had been there. So where was he now?

Looking at the ground, I caught the glint of purple dust. It led around the side of the house, through the fence and onto a stone patio that surrounded an empty pool that was still under construction.

A murmur of voices drifted across the backyard. Staying close to the fence, I moved toward them while straining to hear what was being said.

"You swore to me if we did this, I would get what was supposed to be mine," a deep male voice rumbled. "You can't change it just because your golden child throws a tantrum."

A woman's voice responded, but I wasn't close enough to hear.

"You can't allow this, Mom!" a shrill voice cut through the silence. "He can wait for the next djinn lamp to fix whatever screws are loose with his power."

"You would screw me over just because you're desperate to screw a guy you barely know?" The male's voice rose, trembling with rage. "The only reason you want him is because you're jealous of her! Admit it!"

I peeked around a tall, perfectly sculpted hedge, finally catching sight of the speakers. The world wobbled wildly and the roar of rushing blood filled my ears. It couldn't be.

My mind replayed every event since I'd arrived on the island. What was it she had said?

"I'm surprised she can talk with the way he makes her scream."

How did she know Roam had made me scream?

The only time I'd been vocal outside of the house was in the changing room. Roam had assured me he had magically soundproofed it because he'd planned to make me scream his name, and he hadn't wanted someone bursting in to save me.

I watched in horror as she smirked, twirling the lamp in her hand. "Well, Mom's magic forced him back in the lamp, which means the moment I rub this, he's mine."

"Barker, don't you dare," Charles hissed. "I've spent years searching for a djinn lamp. I found this one, and it's mine."

"Better luck next time, big bro." She pretended to frown, then gave a cruel laugh that twisted her sweet fairy features into a grotesque mask.

I was already racing across the ground when she brought her palm toward the side of the lamp.

She was not about to take my man.

It didn't matter that she was a paranormal, and I was a human armed with nothing more than a box cutter. I was about to send her sparkly self straight to Hades.

I wonder how they feel about people who glitter bomb the afterlife.