Gale Force

Chapter Eight

When I actually did wake up, we were still driving, and I wasn’t sure that I hadn’t dreamed the whole thing until David looked over at me. He had an expression, open and vulnerable, unlike any he’d ever really shown me before. I’d never even realized how armored he was before, until the armor was removed.

“I wanted to tell you all that,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t before, but there never seemed to be time. Always something happening with you. And it usually involves explosions.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” I replied with great dignity. “Things hardly ever explode. They burn, they shake, and occasionally they break, but explosions aren’t my thing.”

“Point taken.” He gave me an assessing look, and took the next exit. “You need a break.”

“Buster, you need to learn how to take them, too. If you intend—”

“To live like a human, yes, I know. I’ll start tomorrow. First thing. For tonight, I just want to get you safely home.”

Home. I imagined the soft bed, imagined waking up with him, and imagined that it would be like that every day for the rest of my life.

It seemed too precious to be true.

The truck stop where we pulled off the freeway was one of those open-all-night places that specialized in everything, from deli sandwiches to wind chimes. After investigating the facilities, which were scrupulously clean, I browsed the snack aisles and stocked up on road food, looked over the DVDs, rummaged through the books, thought about purchasing those wind chimes, and finally ended up with nothing but a bag of chips and a cold soft drink at the register. No sign of David. I wondered where he’d gone off to; maybe he was still in the car.

I collected my purchases and went outside. No, the Mustang was empty. I went back inside, strolled the aisles, saw nobody I recognized. Somewhere inside, a slight tightening started in the vicinity of my stomach. I walked faster, looked harder.

Nothing.

“Excuse me,” I said to the guy behind the counter. “I came in with a guy, a little taller than you, brownish hair, kind of long—”

“He left,” the guy said. “Said he’d be right back. I figured he’d just gone out to the car or something. He’s not out there?”

I checked again. No sign of David anywhere. I waited out in the darkness, indecisive, and paced. Manolo Blahniks weren’t meant to be paced in, but I wasn’t taking off my shoes on the stained concrete of Moe’s All-Niter, either.

I finally stopped and said, “David?” Just in case he was there and watching, though why he’d do that I couldn’t imagine.

Someone answered me, but it wasn’t David. “He’s gone,” said a little girl, standing in the shadows at the edge of the building. She didn’t move, but she emerged from the darkness, as though the lights had brightened around her, and I saw that it was Venna. Venna was one of the most puzzling Djinn I’d ever met, and that was saying a lot; she was the only one I’d ever seen who preferred the form of a child, and she usually liked to dress in Alice in Wonderland-style blue, with a white pinafore. Long blond hair, held back by a simple band, and big china blue eyes.

There was absolutely nothing human about her right now. The clothes—the body—were a disguise.

I took a long step toward her. “What the hell did you do to him?” I blurted. “Where is he?” Showing aggression probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do in this situation; Venna could be deadly, although she’d also been my friend more often than not, and saved my life a few times. Putting her on my bad side wasn’t a good career move.

But I couldn’t stop myself.

She didn’t react. Her hands stayed folded, but her eyes flashed a more intense blue, just for a second, and I found myself unable to advance. My heart raced, and I shuddered in every muscle, trying to fight, but it was useless. She had me shut down.

“Ready to listen now?” she asked mildly. “I’m sorry, but you’re angry. I’m just trying to be sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

I hadn’t known Venna was capable of doing this. I hadn’t known any Djinn could do this, not so easily. Not against someone of my strength level.

As if she were reading my mind, too, she smiled. “Don’t be scared,” she said. “It’s only because you have so much power, so many ways to get inside you. If you were any other Warden, I couldn’t do it at all.”

“Except for Lewis,” I managed to say, and her smile took on dimples.

“I’d never do this to Lewis. Lewis would never make me.”

As always, there was this subtle tone in her voice when she mentioned his name—all the Djinn had it, a kind of puzzlement, or awe. I’d gotten to my current status as a triple-threat Warden, controlling weather, fire, and earth, through a series of circumstances— died, reborn as a Djinn, then reconstituted as a human, then granted Earth powers by my half-Djinn daughter turned Earth Oracle.

Lewis had just been born that way. One in a thousand years, I’d been told, and nobody since the original—Jonathan, later leader of the Djinn—had displayed so much raw power from the outset.

If I were Lewis, that comparison alone would make me very, very nervous about my future.

Venna studied me for a moment, then nodded. I felt the force gripping my muscles let go. I lurched forward, then got control and glared at her. It had all the impact of an ant glaring at a galaxy a few billion miles away.

“David has been summoned,” she said. “He’ll return to you as soon as he can.”

“Summoned? Who summoned him?”

That earned me a pitying look. “Who can?”

Oh. Mother Earth. I couldn’t fight that, and neither could he, whatever his original intentions. “Why would she do that?”

“Her reasons are her own. Perhaps she wants to keep him away from you for a while.”

“Why?”

Venna shrugged. “Some say you’re corrupting him.”

“You’re sure Ashan doesn’t have some ulterior motive here?” Because for better or worse, Venna had gone with Ashan when the Djinn had split between Old and New; I didn’t think she belonged there, because she seemed genuinely curious about humanity, if not exactly caring. “What’s going on?”

Venna shrugged. Not her business to wonder such things. “I was just dispatched to reassure you.”

“You’re doing a great job so far.”

She cocked her head, her gaze growing sharper. “Is it true? That David intends to pretend to be human for the rest of your life?”

I cleared my throat. “We’re getting married, if that’s what you mean.”

It obviously was. Her cute little-girl face scrunched into a frown. “Why?”

“If you have to ask, there’s no way I can explain it.”

“Are your sexual encounters not currently satisfying? ”

“Venna! I know you’re not a child, but really, that’s just creepy. And personal.”

She looked surprised, then thoughtful. “So many rules,” she sighed. “All right. I accept that I will not understand your reasons. But do you understand the risks? There are many of your people who won’t approve. Many who don’t like the Djinn at all, and want us to leave you alone.”

“Can’t imagine why,” I said dryly. “You’re all just so darned nice.”

There was that smile again, mischievous and dimpled. I thought she must have copied it from a young Shirley Temple, but for all I knew, it could have been a young Cleopatra. She didn’t take the bait.

“How long is he going to be gone?” I asked. She shrugged. “Well, should I wait?” Another tiny shrug, as if it didn’t even matter enough to her to waste the energy on a gesture of indifference. “Let me say it another way: Can I go?”

Venna rolled her eyes, a shockingly human gesture for her. “Please,” she said. “Go. I do have better things to do.”

And she misted away, just like that. I was on my own.

I felt alone, driving away from the truck stop; I’d entered it feeling peaceful and excited and happy, and now I was back to living on the edge. All because Mommy Earth had yanked David’s leash. That could happen any time, and I’d forgotten about it, or wanted to. The car felt empty without him, and I felt exposed. So much for my 24/7 protection, I thought, but then I felt guilty. Was that why I wanted him? To make myself feel safe? Boo. Boo on me.

Sunrise dawned warm and clear, and by the time the heat grew oppressive I was upstairs in my apartment, eating a small container of yogurt. Exhaustion was blurring my eyes, and I didn’t care much about eating—hence the yogurt, which wasn’t really eating, per se. All I wanted to do was take a shower and nap. Can’t do anything until David comes back, I reasoned. Might as well rest up.

Instead, after my shower (which was every bit as wonderful as I’d anticipated) I ended up, phone book and phone next to me, parked in front of the Internet, obsessively researching so I could cross off items on my wedding checklist. I was puzzling over the catering problem—$18.95 per plate for a meal that was going to be served on plastic? Really?—when the phone rang. I picked it up immediately, thinking it would be a callback from the florist.

Instead, it was Cherise, and man, was she pissed. “You don’t trust me,” she said. “I can’t believe you!”

“Where are you?” I asked in alarm, because I’d left strict instructions that Cherise could not be seen or heard from, under any circumstances, until this charade with Kevin and Rahel was over with. “Cher—”

“Oh, relax, this is a secured line. My buddies from the Wardens and Homeland Security all say so, plus my own personal Djinn bodyguard. So I’m being a good little convict,” she said. “By the way, thanks for booking me at a nice hotel. Lewis said I could order room service any time I wanted, but no bonking the waiters, no matter how hot they are. Oh, I’m ordering movies, too, and you guys are paying. Even if I order porn.”

If that was the worst of it, I’d gladly pony up the cost of pay-per-view. “You need anything? Clothes?”

“What’s the point? Not going anywhere. I’m just lounging around in a T-shirt. It’s like a pajama party, except I’m going to get really bored with painting my own toenails. So I’m going to call you and take it out on you.” She paused for a second, and her tone grew more serious. “Is this really dangerous? You know, for Kevin?”

“Maybe.” I couldn’t be dishonest with her, not Cherise. “But he wanted to do it. In fact, he kind of insisted.”

“He would. Rahel’s doing me, though, right? So he’s covered?” She made it a question, painfully eager for reassurance. I swallowed hard.

“He’s covered,” I said. “Rahel’s smart, and she’s strong. If anything goes wrong, she can get him out.”

Not if she can’t see the danger. But I’d fought that battle with David, and lost. All I could do was hope that Kevin, whom I’d properly prepared with all the information I had about the antimatter, would be able to recognize trouble coming and help her avoid it.

“These Sentinel people. Do you know who any of them are?”

“No,” I said. “Well, one, but he’s dead now.”

“Then how do you know who you can trust?”

“I trust you,” I said. “I trust Lewis. For this, I trust Kevin. I always trust David. But believe me, my trust circle’s getting smaller all the time.”

“Good. Maybe you won’t get yourself hurt quite as often.” I heard the TV come on in the background, and the bed creak. “Okay, I’m going to my happy place. Russell Crowe movie festival, baby. Sorry you can’t be there, but if you decide to come over—”

“I’m not in New York,” I said, “and even if I was, going to see you would blow our whole operation.”

“I guess.” She sighed. “Okay, Mr. Dreamypants is on. Call you later?”

“Yes,” I said. “Hey, Cher?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you know any good caterers?”

Cherise’s question about the Sentinels stayed with me the rest of the day, as I went about my so-called normal life. If anybody had turned up likely suspects for the Sentinels list, they weren’t sharing it with me. No sign of David, and no messages from beyond. I got calls from various Wardens either congratulating me about the upcoming marriage, or fishing for gossip about the confrontation with Kevin. I answered honestly to both, so far as it went. I didn’t try to hide my frustration with Kevin, but I told them it was Lewis’s problem, not mine.

None of the phone calls had seemed overly strange, but my paranoia dials were all on high. I couldn’t rule anyone out.

Hearing my doorbell ring only made my self-preservation alarms go off. I was boiling pasta. I took the precaution of turning off the burner—in case I died, no sense in burning the building down again— and went to look through the peephole.

It was David. Oh. I had told him to start acting like a human, hadn’t I? I needed to get him his own key. I unbolted the door and swung it wide—

David lunged forward, grabbed me by the throat, and drove me back to the wall as he kicked the door shut. It was a real threat; his grip was bruising my neck, making parts of me panic in fear of imminent strangulation. I grabbed for his wrist, which was stupid, and tried to get a scream past his hand.

No good.

He smiled, and I recognized the expression. It wasn’t David’s, although he was wearing David’s face. I croaked out, “Don’t you fucking pretend to be him!” and David’s body shrugged, and the Djinn morphed into his more usual form.

It was Ashan, leader of the Old Djinn. Venna’s brother and boss, and the least likeable creature I’d ever met, including the ones who’d tried to kill me. Ashan was a cool, smooth, handsome bastard, all chilly grays and ice whites, and he didn’t care for people at all. He liked me a good deal less than that. “I’ve come for a purpose,” he said, “but I don’t need to hear your prattle.”

I made some incoherent noises, which got the point across that his grip on my throat was impairing my ability to curse, and he finally let up enough to allow breath in, profanity out. After the profanity, I got my pulse rate dialed back from Going to Die to Total Panic, and said, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You brought this on yourself,” Ashan said. He emphasized that by slamming me back against the wall with painful force. “I was content to let you live, but you, you push, you always push.”

“Let go!” I snarled. He must have sensed I meant business, because although he didn’t obey instantly, he finally released his grip and stepped back. Not far back, though, and the cold fury in his eyes stayed in place. “Where is David? What have you done to him?”

He slapped me. A solid man-slap, one that I was not prepared for; it burned and I felt a wave of total rage crest at the top of my head and flow down every nerve ending. Somehow, I held myself back, but my hands clutched into convulsive fists. “You will destroy him,” Ashan said flatly. “I care nothing for you, but I do not want another war among the Djinn, and you will bring it on. It is best if you disappear from this world before you can rain destruction on all of us.”

Word had gotten around fast, even on the outer reaches of the aetheric. I hadn’t expected the Djinn to approve, but I hadn’t expected this. “All because we’re getting married?” Venna was right about one thing: The two of us engaging in a little sexual adventure hadn’t bothered too many people. It was the wedding that was pissing them off.

“It is a vow,” Ashan said. “And a vow is, for us, unbreakable. Do you understand? You will bind him to humanity, and he is the Conduit.”

All at once, I got it, and it was like a second, harder slap, only this one was directly to the surface of my brain. “Oh crap,” I breathed, suddenly not angry at all. “You mean that by taking vows to love and cherish in sickness and in health—”

“Through him, all of the New Djinn could also be bound,” Ashan said. “Conduits to the Mother must not make such vows. We became slaves the last time such was made. I will not allow it to happen again, not for such small gain as your personal happiness.”

And another thing came crystal clear to me. Ashan wasn’t screwing around this time.

I read it in his expression: He was going to kill me. Problem solved.

And I think he would have, except that right at that moment, somebody else tried to kill me.

I thought it was Ashan who’d attacked for an instant, as I felt the force slam into me and pin me back to the wall, sink past my skin, and close around my heart like an iron hand. But I could see that in fact it wasn’t him, because he’d been forced back from me by the attack, and he was off balance and confused.

I remembered David at the diner, blown back by the aetheric attack that had taken out Lee Antonelli.

They were coming for me. No warning, no quarter. I was under attack by the Sentinels.

Dark shadows flew out of the walls and coalesced into Djinn—Ashan’s bodyguards, who’d been keeping their distance until they were summoned. A threat to their boss brought them running, but once they were on the ground, the next step wasn’t exactly clear, since Ashan wasn’t the target. I was.

And one more coalesced out of the air, a blur of motion, burning copper-bright. David. He was coming, and coming very fast, heading straight for me, blind to everything else around him.

The Djinn bodyguards stopped him, but only for a few seconds. He was too strong for them, even collectively, but the instant he broke free, Ashan lunged like a white tiger. The two of them fell, rolling, a blur of motion that somehow still conveyed the fury and power of the conflict.

As David tried to fight his way to me, I drew all my power inside, fighting the invisible fist that was trying to contract and squeeze my heart into red jam. I felt my distant, powerful daughter’s flow in to augment mine; she couldn’t act directly, but she could help.

It was enough—barely—to keep me alive.

For now.

I opened my eyes. The fight between the two most powerful Djinn was already over.

David was on his knees, held fast with Ashan’s arm around his throat and his hands twisted behind his back, and the look on his face nearly made me cry out. It was shattered. Horrified. Betrayed.

“Oh, God, no. Jo, hold on,” he said, his voice rough and trembling. “Ashan, let go, damn you. Let me help her!”

The Djinn stood silently, watching. Waiting to see what would happen. Probably waiting to see how fast I was going to drop dead. This was nothing but a gift to Ashan—I’d die, and his hands would be clean. There was no reason for David to come after him.

I held against the assault, somehow pushing back the squeezing hand around my heart, and I didn’t dare speak to David. I couldn’t. No breath and no strength left over, and I knew it wouldn’t do any good, no matter what I said. He couldn’t act, not with Ashan in the way. If he could have, he’d have already done it.

“Ashan, you can’t stand by and see her murdered!” David screamed. “Let me go!”

Ashan said, in a soft but deadly cool voice, “It’s the business of humans. She told you that. I’m only enforcing what you know are the rules.”

My vision was eroding, black spots appearing at the edges. Maybe that was why I didn’t immediately recognize that one of the Djinn standing next to Ashan was Venna, dressed not in her Alice pinafore outfit, but in plain black. I focused on her. Her blue eyes were blazing hot, the color of a gas flame.

She said nothing. She didn’t try to help either one of us, not even David, whom I knew she loved. She loved Ashan more.

No help was coming.

The Sentinels can’t keep this up, not at this level of power, I told myself, trembling. Only maybe they could. The assault continued on the aetheric, furious and unrelenting, and it required every bit of concentration I possessed to keep myself from folding. Power was counteracting power, and the resulting forces were out of control; I couldn’t do anything to reduce the damage, or I’d be instantly dead.

Around us, sparks began to crawl on every available metallic surface, zipping and popping. Lightbulbs blew out. The Sentinels—if that was indeed who was behind this—pressed me harder, and I had to respond.

Windows shattered. I heard the plate glass patio door break with a catastrophic crash. One of the curtains caught fire from the constant sparking. It burned slowly, but it burned, giving off acrid black smoke.

“Stop this! They’ll destroy her!” David screamed, and writhed to get free. Ashan held him, but just barely. Venna looked visibly upset, and turned away from them. She brushed her hand across the flame on the curtains and transferred it to her palm, then rubbed it contemplatively between her fingers, frowning, and looked at Ashan. Something passed between the two of them, something I couldn’t understand.

The whole world was narrowing, darkness closing in on me. I could feel it all around me, eating away, sinking into every nerve, every muscle.

And the hand around my heart tightened, and every labored thump seemed likely to be my last on this earth.

David’s face was taut, pallid, and desperate. He was still trying to twist free, but his strength, like mine, wasn’t up to the task.

The odds were too high this time.

“Ashan, give me your leave,” Venna said. Her brother frowned, and nodded sharply, once. Venna disappeared so suddenly there was a small thunder-clap of air left in her wake. I couldn’t even spare the breath to curse, or to cry out. The pressure was throbbing in every nerve of my body, a constant, grinding pain that grew sharper with every heartbeat. The Sentinels weren’t going to let up. They were going to slaughter me one inexorable inch at a time, and the Djinn—the Old Djinn—wouldn’t lift a finger to stop it.

And they were going to make David watch, to make it that much more horrible.

I felt something new in the attack—a tremor. Just a flicker, but somewhere, someone was weakening. If it was a combined attack, and I thought it must be, then at least one and maybe more were faltering, running out of power. Hang on, I told myself. I felt sweat dripping from my chin onto my shirt front. A little longer.

It was an eerie way to face the end of your life. If it had just been the Old Djinn, standing there impassively, that would have been bad enough, but David— the dread and anguish in his eyes was too much. I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated harder.

Hold. You have to hold.

I felt another element of the attacking force weaken and drop away, leaving a purer signature to it. If I could only outlast the rest, I might be able to trace it back to one source . . . at least get the name of the bus that was going to run me down.

Even that cold comfort didn’t seem too likely. I felt myself shaking harder now, as I pulled all the power out of my muscles, out of my flesh, pouring my last vital resources into defending the stronghold of my heart. I couldn’t hold out for long; my reserves had gone shockingly fast, and without David’s help, even Imara’s contributions weren’t going to be enough. . . .

I felt something in me give way, and my next breath felt wet and labored. Pain flared through me. I tasted blood, coughed, and felt warmth spray out of my mouth.

“No,” David whispered. “Ashan . . . please . . .”

Ashan didn’t speak, not even to refuse.

Another element of the attack against me broke with an almost physical shock. I could count them now: three. Three of them left, but one was unbelievably strong, much stronger than I was. Stronger than I could ever hope to be.

My legs gave out. I fell to my knees, hardly felt the impact. Part of the carpet was on fire now, and none of the Djinn were reacting to the emergency. I heard the shriek of the smoke alarm going off, and knew that I was on the verge of creating yet another disaster, one that could claim the lives of the innocent people living around me.

I closed my eyes and found one last tiny pool of strength. With that last drop of power, I pushed back. Two of the three attackers dropped away, surprised by my sudden aggression, and I saw the last one clearly.

On the aetheric, he burned a brilliant white, less a person than a star bound in human form. I couldn’t see his features, but I could see where he was, in the instant before he cut off his attack and disappeared into the boiling mass of confusion stirred up by the attack like the smoke in the apartment.

I’d won.

I pitched forward to my hands and knees, gasping in thick, tainted breaths, coughing and wheezing. My mouth was full of blood, and my coughs brought up more of it. I was hemorrhaging from my lungs, too weak to save myself, too weak to control the fire taking hold around me, or cleanse the air I was breathing. No. You can’t die now. You won!

Winning isn’t everything. You need to have something left, in the end, to move on. This was the very definition of a Pyrrhic victory.

I realized that I was staring at David, still on his knees, held pinned and helpless by Ashan. His face was the color of ashes, and his eyes an unholy, almost demonic red, consumed with pain and pent-up fury.

“She survived,” Ashan said, and I heard a note of pure surprise in his voice. I felt a surge of power move through the apartment. The siren cut off; the air turned sweet again. No more sparks. Before my watering eyes, the curtain knitted itself into its original unburned form, and the carpet healed itself.

That wasn’t David’s doing. I could tell that he was blocked by Ashan here, completely cut off. Helpless. The bodyguards wouldn’t have dared take that kind of initiative, which left only the last person I’d have ever expected to do me a kindness.

Ashan was staring at me with half-closed, thoughtful eyes. I couldn’t read his expression. I was too tired to even try.

“Go on and finish me off,” I said hoarsely. “I can’t stop you.”

“I know,” he said. It was the first time I’d heard him speak with such a level tone, no trace of hate or contempt. “You fought well. Almost like a Djinn. But you’re not a Djinn anymore, and you never will be again.” After another pause, I thought I heard him say, very quietly, “Pity.”

He let David go and stepped back. David didn’t hesitate. Ashan ceased to exist for him the instant the barriers fell, and he lunged to me and gathered me in his arms. I felt healing power cascade through me in burning, almost painful urgency, and I shuddered and buried my face against his neck.

“Jo?” He whispered it with his lips against my skin. His hands were everywhere on me, frantic, protective. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I felt tears welling up, and whether they were shock or relief or the delayed effects of fear, I couldn’t tell. I didn’t have any defenses left, not even against myself. I wanted to lie down on my side, curl up, and weep myself into unconsciousness in his embrace, but instead, I lifted my head—which felt as if it weighed about a hundred pounds—and focused on Ashan. His expression was closed and still, but I thought I saw something in it that hadn’t been there before.

“It was necessary, you know,” he said. “Necessary you stop before it’s too late.” Which wasn’t an apology, but the fact that he felt compelled to explain himself was an enormous change.

David growled, deep in his throat, and I stilled him with a hand on his cheek, still looking at Ashan.

“Thank you. I won’t expect it again,” I said. I saw a flash in his cool eyes, and he bent his head a fraction of an inch.

And then he misted away, and his bodyguards followed, giving me a range of stares from curiosity to anger.

One faded in. Venna, still in black. I curled closer to David, taking comfort in the heat of his body, the strength of his embrace. I was shaking all over, and couldn’t seem to stop. It wasn’t just physical injury. I’d come close, so desperately close—in some indefinable way, I felt more fragile now than I ever had, despite the fact that I’d won.

I wouldn’t have wanted to show so much vulnerability to Ashan, but it was different with Venna. She’d seen me crying, filthy, beaten, broken. She’d never made judgments, not in the way that Ashan would.

I felt the soft touch of her hand stroking my hair.

“You had to win alone,” Venna said. “I am sorry. I couldn’t help. It was a human matter, not for the Djinn.”

I gulped air and nodded. David wasn’t so understanding. He let out that low, vicious growl again, and Venna sat back on her heels, clearly taking the warning very seriously. I couldn’t tell if it angered her, but I doubted it. She seemed to understand his desperation.

She studied the two of us with a sorrowful and composed expression, like a graveyard angel. “Your enemies are much worse than you are. You should be prepared for the fight.”

I croaked, “Who? Who are they?”

“You know,” she said, and stood up. “You knew before, and you will again. You saw him. You just won’t allow yourself to see.”

I reached out and grabbed her hand. She looked down, frowning a little, and pulled free without any difficulty—but she did it gently. “I hope you survive. And I hope—I hope you are happy.”

I laughed hollowly. “I hope so, too. I don’t suppose we can count on you for a little help along those lines?”

Venna raised her eyebrows. “What do you expect?”

Nothing, I supposed.

Which was, as Venna performed her dramatic Djinn exit, exactly what we got.

David picked me up and carried me into the bathroom. I might have passed out for a while; when I woke, I was naked, and the two of us were in the bathtub, stretched out and facing each other. He was gently sluicing hot water over my chest, and when he saw I was awake, he switched to a washcloth, which he used to sponge blood from my face and mouth. There was a lot of it, which was alarming in a distant sort of way. I was too weak to really feel panic.

He pressed his lips to my forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I left you. I won’t leave you again.”

“Not even for—”

“No. Not even for the Mother.”

It had the feeling not of seduction, but of ritual, and the heat of the water eased something cold and small and terrified inside of me. We stayed in the bath until I felt sleep overtaking me, and then he carried me to bed, where I fell into a black, dreamless pit.

Sleep wasn’t without its horrors. I woke a few times feeling phantom fingers scrabbling for my heart, but it wasn’t an attack, just raw unfiltered panic. David was there to drive it away. Hush, he told me, and soothed the fear with gentle strokes of his fingers. I won’t leave you. You are safe in my arms.

When the phone rang, he answered, and I drifted back to a dark, quiet sleep for the rest of the night.

In the morning, I woke up stronger than I’d felt through the night—though that really wasn’t much of an improvement, since I’d started from a baseline of near death. I found out from David, who was up bright and early fixing coffee and eggs, that the phone call had been from Lewis. The aetheric dust-up had been witnessed by hundreds of Wardens, though nobody could tell what had been going on or who had been the target. Lewis had decided to check in, just in case. A team of Wardens had been put on smoothing out the effects of the fight, which was good, because it was well beyond me. Sitting up for more than an hour was beyond me.

David poured me a cup of coffee and slid into the chair beside me. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“Like I survived. Barely,” I said. “You want the truth? I feel fragile. And glad to be alive.” I sipped without really tasting the nutty brown richness, though the smell of the coffee warmed me. “Why did Ashan make you watch?”

His hands went still on the table. He didn’t look up. “Punishment,” he said. “I didn’t have permission to leave the Mother. She wasn’t pleased. She—she can cut me off from her, and she did it, to prove the point. That’s why I didn’t have the power to stop him.”

He’d disobeyed the Mother for me. I almost dropped the china cup, and it rattled when I managed to get it back to the saucer. “David—”

“If you’re about to tell me that it was stupid, I already know,” he said. “But don’t ask me to promise not to do it again.”

“But—what did she want?”

“Djinn business.” His tone made it clear that it wasn’t any of mine. “You wouldn’t understand even if I tried to explain.”

Because of me, David had already lost his status as the sole conduit for the Djinn; Ashan had taken on responsibility for the Old Djinn. Now, if he wasn’t careful, he’d lose everything. I felt that knowledge stab deep, and lodge like a dagger of ice somewhere near my heart. “I don’t think I’m worth it,” I said slowly.

He raised his head, and the look in his eyes broke me. “I think you are,” he said. “I think you’re worth far more. You’ve proven it to me so many times.”

I had to take a deep breath, or I’d have burst into tears. As it was, my voice trembled. “David—Ashan told me the risks. If we exchange vows, it could bind the New Djinn the way that Jonathan’s vow bound the Djinn in the first place. I could be responsible for enslaving you again. All of you.” I swallowed hard. “I can’t take that chance.”

“No?” He smiled, but it was a bitter, dark thing, and it made me shiver. “I can.”

“David—”

“I warned you. When Djinn fall in love, there’s no middle ground. Our love is deep, and total, and merciless. ” He regarded me for a long moment, and his hand closed around mine, far gentler than the look in his eyes. “You think I did this without considering the consequences? Without considering the cost to my own people, and my responsibilities?”

“I—” I finally shook my head. “I don’t know. I don’t know how it is for Djinn, but where love is involved, humans aren’t usually that strong on logic.”

That made his smile warmer, more genuine. “True enough for us as well. However, I believe that the New Djinn need to stay close to humanity, and I believe this is an important step to ensure that happens. You see? Logical. It also happens to be what I want to do. It’s a risk, yes, but it’s a risk I think is acceptable. In addition, it’s a way to force the Sentinels out in the open, by forcing them to counter our move.” He lifted my fingers to his mouth and kissed them, just a light brush of lips. “If you decide we can’t go through with it, I’ll abide by your decision.”

“But . . . what about the others?”

“The other New Djinn? I won’t say there aren’t a few who are doubtful, but by and large, they’re interested. Intrigued. It’s possible that if we exchange vows, the Djinn could regain some measure of the additional power they had under the old agreement with the Wardens—but still retain their autonomy. As I said, we all consider it worth a try.”

“Especially since it’s temporary,” I said. “Right? Till death do us part. Once I’m gone, the vow is broken.”

Sadness softened the metallic glitter of his eyes. “Yes,” he said. “Exactly. Unlike the agreement Jonathan made, which was to a group, this is to an individual. But the Old Djinn still don’t want to take the risk. They’re the more conservative force, and they worry about consequences. About precedence.”

He was describing a lot more to me about Djinn politics than he ever had before, and I had to admit, I was intrigued. “The Mother said to let me fight my own battles, didn’t she? That was why she summoned you both in, you and Ashan. To lay down the law.”

“Yes.”

“Which you promptly broke by racing to my side.”

“Ashan broke it first,” David pointed out. “He came to kill you, and I have no doubt he’d have done it. He didn’t see you as worthy, not in any way, of what I’m offering.”

“Flattering.”

David shrugged. “Ashan’s not known for being overly fond of mortals, but if he was going to be impressed by any human, it would probably be you.”

“Why? Because I didn’t whimper and die?” I shoved eggs around on my plate. I needed food, but everything seemed distant, lacking any kind of attraction or urgency.

“Because he saw what I saw. He saw your strength, your power, your beauty.” David paused, studying me with an expression so tender that it melted my heart and gave me shivers. “He saw what I saw in your core, and it shook him. It shook all of them. You have a peculiar gift to make Djinn feel. In a way, that makes you more dangerous than anyone they’ve ever known.”

“But less easy to kill, I hope.”

He tilted his head. No answer. I chewed eggs. They were good, I supposed. More importantly, they were fuel for a body that had spent its reserves recklessly. My body fat was gone, and my blood sugar in the negative numbers. David’s infusion of energy last night had kept me alive when my mortal flesh tried to shut down, but now it was up to me to get things back in order.

“The Sentinels,” he said. “Did you get anything from them? Anything that could help us?”

I dropped my fork and stared at him. “I didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Oh my God!” Of course I hadn’t. I’d been busy trying not to die, and then I’d been completely consumed by the novelty of still being alive. Until he’d asked the question, the knowledge had been lurking somewhere in the back of my mind, waiting for the right moment. “I know where he is! The—the anchor, the leader, whatever! Well, where he was, anyway.”

“Where?” David was already up and on his feet, and looking more Djinn than he ought to. “Where?”

I picked up my fork and gobbled down mouthfuls of egg as fast as I could, grimly intent on getting my strength back. “The Florida Keys,” I said. “Key West, or somewhere close to it. The bastard is our neighbor.”