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The Warder's Djinn - Albina Warder Lakin is the last of her line. She has inherited a vast fortune, and the custody of her family's djinn. Imaran is the djinn who has been bound to her family for centuries, and now he has to carry out her grandfather's last wish. That he protect Albina and take her as his own. He may have trouble carrying out the last wish of Albion Lakin if Albina has any say in the matter.
The Warder's Djinn - Chapter 1Albina
Ophelia Warder Lakin was in the middle of restoring a canvas when she
got the call. She
carefully set aside her tools and wiped her hands on a nearby rag. She
sighed deeply. It was really hard to clean up after those particular
curses. They tended to sink into the paint. She needed all of her
concentration to pull the residue off the canvas. It was tiring work,
but well worth the effort of restoring the masterpieces of centuries. Her
assistant Reginald brought her the phone. Hello? Am
I speaking to Albina Lakin? Yes.
She blinked and slid her magnifying lenses out of the way. She put
them aside as she waited. A shiver of dread snaked down her spine.
This wasnt
good. It
was a cold, impersonal voice that had made thousands of these calls
before. Miss
Lakin, you need to come to the hospital. Right now. Your grandfather
will not last the night. He is asking to see you. A
frozen wave began to course deep in her chest. Ill
be there within the hour. Thank you. *
* * * One
week later... Alby
stood in the opulent office and looked around at the other three faces
that had turned out for the reading of the will. Her stepmother and
stepbrother were the only family there, and of course Gregg Maccario,
her grandfathers
oldest friend and lawyer. He
was the only one--aside from herself--that had shed a tear as they
lowered her grandfather into the ground two days earlier. Rupert and
Emily had seemed to gloat as the dirt was ceremoniously dropped onto
the coffin. As
we gather here today to discuss the last will and testament of Albion
Lakin, I would like to take this moment to say that I will miss him,
both as a friend and as his lawyer. Moisture pooled in Greggs eyes. He
stopped, clearing his throat. He was a helluva golf player, and one hell
of a human being. He took a seat behind his desk and rolled
up his sleeves. Now, with all of the remaining family
assembled, lets get down to brass tacks. This
is the last will and testament of Albion Hector Lakin. Lets
dispense with the boilerplate and get to the point. To my
daughter-in-law, Emily Morris-Lakin, I leave the sum of two hundred
and fifty thousand dollars, to be delivered to her upon my natural
death, and not before. To
Emilys
son, Rupert Morris, I leave the sum of fifty thousand dollars, which
he has no doubt spent already, upon the news of my death. And
lastly, to my dear granddaughter Albina, who lightened my life and
kept me from being an uneducated old man, I leave the remainder of my
estate. She will know how I want certain items disposed of, and which
of them are heirlooms. I trust her with the history and honor of the
Lakin family. My house is hers, and a trust to pay the annual expenses
has been arranged. Good luck, Albina, and say hello to Arov for me. He
will continue to work for the Lakin family as long as you live. Gregg
concluded his recitation of the will and handed each of them a copy.
Alby looked cautiously over at her erstwhile stepmother and brother,
shuddering at the fury in their eyes. They are not going to go
quietly. Taking
the cowards way out, Alby leaned forward to shake
Greggs
hand, quickly saying her goodbyes. She
was out the door and down the hall before Rupert caught up with her. Albina!
Albina, wait a moment. He was not breathing heavily, but was
slightly flushed at the effort he had put into catching her. As
always, his clothing was impeccable. Rupert,
how nice to see you again. How is your mother?
She kept things polite while she waited for the elevator. She fidgeted
nervously, clutching the copy of the will in her hands. Furious,
but I am guessing that you figured that out already. Finding out that
the old bastard had almost cut us out of the will was quite the blow.
His handsome features took on a pleasant grin, but Alby wasnt
fooled. He had stalked her the entire time that she had lived with him
and his mother, while Emily had been married to her father. It was the
threat of his unwanted attentions that had driven her to her
grandfathers
house for refuge. He
had assessed the situation at once and spoken to his son, who then
made arrangements for his only daughter to be sent to school near some
friends of his. He received updates on her studies on a regular basis
and was pleased with her progress. It
was a tremendous shock when her father died in a car accident the
summer after she had turned eighteen. She had gone home for the
funeral, and when Rupert had made a move on her, she left town once
again. Regular letters to her grandfather had become daily emails as
the years wore on, until the news of his death had shaken her to the
core. She
kept her composure only through an extreme effort of will. That
bastard was my Grandfather. You will excuse me if I am not
terribly upset at your mothers anger over money that was never hers to
begin with. I
am not trying to pick a fight with you, Albina. As you may remember, I
have always been rather fond of you. He reached out and drew his fingers down
one ivory cheek. She
fought the violent nausea that claimed her at his touch and stepped
back. The elevator pinged its arrival, and a wave of relief swept over
her. Please
keep your hands to yourself, Rupert. I have nothing more to say to
you. Good bye.
She slid into the elevator and hit the lobby button. Ruperts
smirking face was left swimming in her mind as the doors slid shut and
the box descended. She
winced in distaste at the expression that he had been wearing. He was
not done with her, that much was certain. The sick lust that had
burned in him when she was a teenager had not been banked by the
years. The
doors slid open on her parking level; she walked quickly to her car
and got in, shuddering with the effort to keep her composure. She
drove slowly out of the city to the expansive estate that her
grandfather had called home. She swiped her key card through the lock,
and the gates swung ponderously open. The state-of-the-art security
system was just for looks. The real defense was the wardstones that
her mother had placed around the perimeter fence. Renewing the charge
had been one of her first chores when she had come to live with her
grandfather. It
became a tie to the mother she had never known. One of the first. The
acceptance of the Lakin clan, one of the premier warlock clans in
Realm, had managed to give her the structure that she needed, as well
as great-aunts to dote on her. Albina
lived twenty-eight years of memories as she drove through the park
surrounding the house. Each memory had the strong touch of both magic,
and her Grandfather. He had seen to her early training instead of
sending her to weekend schools in Realm, teaching her to learn to
control her gifts. The
warding came easily, it was the alchemy and scientific analysis of
varying magical items that gave her some trouble. She eventually
mastered enough to please Albion, but not to please herself. It was
that early history of analyzing and dealing with badly treated magical
objects that had led her into the field of restoration. With
her assistants help, she un-cursed cursed
objects, repaired magical paints and sketches as well as restoring
family heirlooms that had faded in power during the centuries since
they were created. All skills that she had learned from her
grandfather. Gods, she was going to miss him. She
pulled up to the front doors, her tires crunching the gravel. This was
it. He was really gone. Alby
drew herself up, squared her shoulders and left her car in the drive.
The gargoyles on duty made wonderful statues, but even more wonderful
guardians. The instant that a person with malice in his heart passed
the guardians, they would spring to life, defending the Lakin family. The
door swung open at her touch. The interior of the house was immaculate
as always. Someone had drawn the curtains back to let the afternoon
sun stream into the rooms. She knew who that was. Arov?
Are you here? Of
course he was here. It wasnt like he could travel without a member of
the family with him. Arov?
Her voice broke. I
am here, Miss Lakin. I am sorry for the circumstances that have
brought you back.
The deep, quiet voice emanated from a spot directly behind her. I
will miss him as well, he was a truly great man. She
turned to face him, and when she saw the genuine regret on his
bluish-bronze face, she broke. Sobbing uncontrollably, she flung
herself into his startled embrace. She let the magic that she had
gathered spiral loose, filling the room and causing even the gargoyles
outside to shift in discomfort. Her grief filled her and she let it
find its way; sparks rocketing around the room,
deflecting off the wards that had been set in place to confine magical
energy. Haltingly,
she felt his arms come around her, stroking slowly up and down her
back. She inhaled deeply, taking comfort from the familiar spice of
his scent. It brought her back to the times when he had been assigned
to keep her from harm while her grandfather worked. Falling out of
trees, opening gateways into Realm in the front yard, all the things
that a young witch could possibly get into. It had always been Arov
that had been sent out to rescue her. She
needed rescuing now. It
is the nature of life that it will end, Albina. Albion was old. He had
lived his life to the fullest, there were no regrets.
His hands continued their soothing motion, letting her come back to
herself gradually. At
least you were there with him, at the end. It meant the world to him. She
drew back and tried to smile brightly up at the djinn that her family
had held imprisoned for eight hundred years. He did seem happy to see me. Even after
all this time. His
hands were still stroking slowly up and down her spine, comforting and
offering support. Shall
we have something to eat? If I know you, you missed your breakfast.
His smile warmed the cold knot that had bloomed when the hospital
first called her. She withdrew her hands, noticing for the first time
that she had clutched his shirt in her grief. Shaking with emotion,
she stepped away. Food.
Yeah.
That sounds nice. Is everything where it was the last time?
Not
quite. The library is now the kitchen, and the dining room is the lab.
A hand on her back steered her to the new kitchen, her head shaking in
amusement at her grandfathers penchant for having Arov move the rooms
around. Your
room, however, is still at the top of the stairs, overlooking the
apple trees. It is the one room that he would never let me touch.
With amusement dancing in his black eyes, he removed a tray from the
refrigerator and set it on the sideboard. She peered over his shoulder
and laughed. Viola Grace Copyright © 2006 All rights reserved |
