Текст книги "Gale Force"

Автор книги: Rachel Caine

Соавторы: Rachel Caine
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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.''

Chapter Nine

I rested for a couple of days. My appetite returned with a vengeance on the second day out from

the attack, and David was at first amused, then a little appalled at my lust for calories. ''Are you

sure that's wise?'' he asked when I opened up the fourth bag of barbecue chips. ''There's such a

thing as overdoing it. . . .''

I knew there was, but the food and the sleep were recharging my body, and I wanted to hasten

the process. Impatient, that was me. And scared. I knew the Sentinels now, in aetheric form if

not in actual physical shape. I knew how much power they were packing, and it was terrifying

indeed. I wanted my body back and balanced, fast.

I knew that bags of chips weren't the way to go, but they tasted so good.

David distracted me from the chips by proposing an outing: shopping. ''You,'' I said, gazing at

him approvingly, ''are getting to know me way too well.''

He raised his eyebrows. ''I plan to research you in the biblical sense later.''

''Mmmmm, maybe shopping can wait.'' Those words were a sign of just how much that

invitation really meant. I hardly ever delayed shopping.

''No. I want us out and visible,'' he said. ''If the Sentinels are watching, I want them to see that

you're alive, well, and strong. I don't think they'll try that again. You surprised them, and you

scared them.''

''I did?''

''If you hadn't,'' David said, ''they'd have come back for you already.''

Dressing took on a whole girding-for-battle significance now that I knew my enemies were

going to be watching me. I bathed, scrubbed, exfoliated, shampooed, shaved, tweezed,

moisturized. I spent half an hour on my hair, and another half an hour on makeup. Choosing the

right sundress required another long stretch of time. When I finally appeared in the doorway,

David was stretched out on the couch, feet crossed at the ankles, reading a battered paperback,

which he dropped on his chest at the sight of me.

''Yeah?'' I twirled for him, just fast enough that the floating hem of the light floral sundress

showed my thighs. ''Healthy enough?''

He pressed his lips together and struggled to sit up. ''That's one word for it.''

''What's another?''

''Seductive.'' That note in his voice made me shiver, but I put my shoulders back and shook my

finger at him anyway.

''You said we needed to get out. So out we get, Mister.''

He sighed, stood up, and slipped into his coat.

''David?'' I hated to say it, because this was a kind of dividing line, and I wasn't even sure why.

''The coat. If you want to be taken for human, only flashers wear coats in Fort Lauderdale in the

summer.''

He seemed honestly surprised. ''But-ah. Yes. Right.'' He took it off and put it back on the

chair, petting its olive-drab surface as he did, like a favorite pet he was sorry to leave behind.

''Everything else okay?''

I gave him the walkaround. ''Not bad,'' I said, ''but we can do better.''

''Oh no,'' he said.

''That's right. We're shopping for you, buster.''

I knew all the good places to shop, but if I hadn't, even JCPenney would have been able to

supply a decent alternative to the ever-present checked shirt that David seemed to think was the

height of fashion. But I wasn't going for better; I was going for make women stop and stare,

though with David, that wasn't exactly difficult.

He was made for Versace.

The salespeople thought so too; David was bemused by the whole affair, clearly wondering what

the hell he'd gotten himself into, but as always, he was willing to experiment with the most

trivial of human pursuits. I conspired with the lead saleswoman to do before and after digital

pictures. Going in, David was a good-looking man, a bit conservative with his blue-and-white

checked shirt and jeans.

Going out, he was so attractive that he was a menace to passing traffic. He wore a black, skin-

tight Versace knit shirt, long-sleeved to give him sleekness, and his black Diesel jeans that

hugged his ass and thighs, and flared out at the ends just enough. Because we were in Florida, I

gave him a bit of a surfer fashion sensibility, and it suited him brilliantly. The coppery tan could

have been stoked by days paddling in the surf. I added a very fine Hugo Boss sports coat, in

midnight blue, and when he put it on, the salespeople gave a collective sigh and snapped

pictures. He turned toward me, eyebrows raised, a slight flush in his cheeks.

I've made a Djinn blush, I thought. There was a weird satisfaction in that. Also, I planned to try

to make him blush more, in private, later.

Some part of me, during all this public playacting, kept monitoring the aetheric for any signs of

Sentinel activity. Nothing. It was dead quiet, weirdly so. Maybe I really had given them a shock

with not dying on cue.

I started to pay for the clothes, but David slipped a wallet from his pocket and pulled out a jet-

black American Express card. I caught a look at the name as he handed it over.

DAVID CYRUS PRINCE.

David knew what I was thinking, and he met my eyes briefly, then smiled at the salesclerk and

signed the credit card receipt. We left the store with his old clothes and shoes in a bag. I couldn't

stop stealing glances at him, darkly gorgeous as he was; every woman we passed, young or old,

plain or model-in-training, gave him an involuntary stare.

''That,'' he said, ''was a waste of time. I could have just manifested the clothes, if you'd shown

me what you wanted me to wear.''

''The point is to be seen,'' I reminded him. ''Besides, buying clothes is something humans do.

You want to be human, right?''

''Right.'' His lips quirked, and he tried to suppress a smile. ''That's the first time I've ever

purchased clothing, you know. For myself.''

''It's good to stretch,'' I assured him. ''Mr. Prince.''

The two of us strolled through the warm, humid morning. My dress rippled and flowed in the

ocean breezes, my hair looked fantastic, my shoes were kicking ass, and I had the most beautiful

man I'd ever seen on my arm.

Still, I was constantly looking for a knife headed for my back. Our backs.

Nothing.

We shopped all morning, then ate lunch in a cafe next to the ocean. I could see that David was

settling into his new look, which pleased me; I had the feeling that Djinn changed styles

reluctantly. He couldn't help but notice the attention he was attracting, and unless Djinn were a

whole lot less like humans than I suspected, attention wasn't unwelcome.

Otherwise, he wouldn't choose to be so gorgeous to start with.

Over chicken salad and iced teas, he asked me about our afternoon plans. I proposed more

shopping. He counterproposed other things, which I confess sounded more interesting, but I'd

pledged to keep to my timeline.

I really needed to find that wedding dress.

So after lunch, we went to Zola Keller, and I started the arduous task of trying on thousand-

dollar-and-up couture. Which is not nearly as much of a hardship as you might think. I went

through twelve styles, none of them quite right, and then . . .

And then it happened.

The moment the clerk unzipped the bag, I just knew. As the weight of the Italian silk settled

around me, I knew even more. When she laced the back and prepped me for the mirror, I knew

I'd found exactly what would drive David wild.

Unlike most wedding gowns, this was no Disney princess knockoff; it was sophisticated, subtle,

sexy. Layers of silk dropped in subtle angles from the low-cut bodice, but it in no way resembled

any kind of wedding cake. The fabric rippled in silk waves, layer upon layer, sweeping into a

fantastic train.

But the back was what did it-a laced corset, fitted to show a deep, sexy V of skin down the

spine beneath the lacings. It was demure enough, but I could sense, like a vibration on the

aetheric, that it would drive him absolutely mad.

''I'll take it,'' I said. The clerk raised both eyebrows.

''Don't you want to know-''

''If you tell me the price, I'll chicken out, so no. I don't want to know. Just ring it up.''

She cleared her throat. ''I really think I should warn you about the cost-''

''You really shouldn't,'' I sighed.

The Warden AmEx was about to get a serious workout. Even though she was undoubtedly

making a commission, my saleslady looked concerned for the state of my financial future. As

well she should. If it cost anywhere near what it looked, I was going to be paying approximately

the cost of a new car.

She fussed around with the dress, looking for necessary alterations and marking them. A

thorough professional. We discussed indoor versus outdoor, potential hazards of having a court

train to manage, and other things that I couldn't imagine ever discussing again in my entire life.

But it was done. I had a dress. And it was the dress.

I walked out of the dressing room feeling happier than I had in weeks, trailing the salesclerk like

a lady's maid. I was smiling widely, anticipating the pleasant shock of seeing David in his still-

new finery, and I wasn't disappointed; he was sitting sprawled on a velvet couch, looking ready

for a fashion shoot. Women were finding reasons to shop in his vicinity. I couldn't really blame

them.

''Done,'' I said serenely.

''Really? That was fast.'' It wasn't, but he was being kind. He kissed me, and that was very nice,

especially when, as he pulled back, he whispered in my ear, ''I want to take you home now.''

''Let me mortgage my future first.''

I don't think a sale ever went through faster. In fact, I didn't even notice the total amount as I

signed the slip.

And then, of course, everything went wrong.

David sensed it first, by a couple of seconds; he looked up sharply, all the ease and humor

draining away from him, and his hand closed around mine in an iron grip. He wasn't letting us

be separated again, not this time.

''What is it?'' I asked, or tried to. I never got to the last word. David pointed to the world beyond

the glass windows.

The clouds were thickening so fast overhead that it looked like special effects from the most

expensive disaster movie ever made.

I turned my focus out to sea, out to that calm and tranquil sea. There were no hurricanes brewing

there, only the normal cycle of thunderstorms that needed no Warden regulation.

But someone was tampering with the clouds, forcing energy into a stable system-taking a

standard garden-variety thunderstorm, which hadn't even really been threatening rain until later,

and packing it with energy until it was a mesocyclone. I'd seen it done, but never this fast, never

with so little to work with. The Sentinels were creating an emergency, and doing it so quickly

that it made my whole body shiver with the corona effect of the power. Lightning ripped through

the sky, blue-white and purple, and struck three times that I could see, blowing up transformers,

destroying a metal light pole, stabbing into the lightning at-tractors on a building only two blocks

away.

People began to react nervously.

Outside the windows, I saw the classic formation take shape: anvil cloud, hard and gray as lead;

cloud striations below, showing the shredding forces at work; wall cloud pushing rapidly toward

us, forming and hardening as it came.

An occlusion downdraft was taking shape, leading the forces into a spinning, fatal vortex.

I felt the forces coalescing, and turned my face upward as I rose into the aetheric.

Yep. Tornado. Right over the store.

David was right with me. We rose up into the boiling storm of opposing forces. I couldn't see the

perpetrator; there was too much confusion, too much random energy masking his presence, but I

sensed he was here, watching. Waiting.

The tornado was a trap, but it was one I couldn't help but spring. It was dipping down out of the

clouds, heading for the crowded street. Heading for the bridal store.

Heading for my dress.

I took a deep breath, tightened my grip on David's hand, and prepared for battle.

''I'm with you,'' he said. ''I'll give you what I can.'' I understood, in that second, that the

Mother had cut his circuits again, stranded him from the core of his power. He had whatever was

in him, and no more.

Just as I did. Why was she on the side of the Sentinels? Or maybe it was simpler than that: Maybe

she didn't want the Djinn interfering in our internal struggles anymore.

I could understand that. It did seem a massive waste of resources.

''Watch our backs,'' I told him, and focused on the glittering, complex, deadly snake of the

tornado that was dropping toward us with the speed of a freight train.

It wasn't the classic rope-style tornado; this one was a brutal wedge of power. That was not

necessarily a bad thing; the intensity of a tornado doesn't depend on its width. But if it was an F4

or F5, being a wedge tornado would make things that much worse.

Luckily, it wasn't quite that bad. An F2 at most, with wind speeds of about a hundred miles per

hour– not bad, and not nearly as bad as it could have been. The Sentinels know how to make it

look nasty, but that wasn't the same thing as truly building it right in the first place. I needed to

reduce the core temperatures inside of the vortex, and I needed to do it fast. But as I reached out

for it, the Sentinels sprang the trap.

A second tornado-this one a slender rope, and definitely built to the most exacting

specifications– shot down out of the cloud beside the wedge I was focused on, and this one

packed deadly, razor-edged debris. Metal, all kinds of metal junk and scraps. It was also spinning

at a rate of more than two hundred miles per hour: F4.

One of them was going to hit. I could handle only one at a time, and I had no choice but to go for

the worst. I abandoned the wedge and went for the rope, ripping into it with desperate force,

drawing heat out of it as quickly as I could.

Not fast enough. I heard it hit the roof, which shuddered and groaned, and then heard the rising

roar of the wind as it drilled through steel and wood and concrete.

People were screaming, running, looking for cover. They wouldn't find it, not in the store.

''Outside!'' I grabbed my salesclerk, who'd thrown my dress to one side, and pushed her to the

door. David was grabbing everyone else he could find and shoving them that way as well. ''Run!

Get to cover! Go now!''

I'd succeeded in weakening the vortex down to an F2, but just then, the slower-moving wedge

slammed down like a clenched fist, and the whole building shivered and began to come apart.

The two tornadoes, too close together for even the Sentinels to fully control, began to merge and

feed off each other. The metal inside the smaller vortex spread out wider, slashing and cutting

like the edges of knives as it whirled. Nobody had been hit yet, but they would be.

This had to stop. Now.

''David!'' I screamed his name over the roar of the wind as the roof ripped off, disintegrated into

a million tiny fragments of blowing chaos, and I felt the eye of the storm focus directly on me.

David put his arms around me from behind, anchoring me, and we faced it together. The power

that flowed out of him was rich and strong, golden. It was easy to direct, capable of the finest

touch and control.

Nobody did tornadoes better than me. I knew that without conceit; it was a gift, and one I'd had

since childhood. For all their fury and force, they were fragile constructs, held together by finite

forces. Like everything else, they had keystones. Change that one point, you could change

everything.

This tornado's keystone was hard to find, hard to get my hands around, but once I found the

specific area I needed to affect, I poured David's power into it, added my own, and the weight of

oxygen and nitrogen cooled, slowing the tornado's spin, shattering the forces that held it in form.

It blew apart in a confusion of winds, pelting down debris like deadly, sharp rain. I yelped and

ducked, and David formed a shield above us. Good thing he did. The Sentinels took one last,

spiteful swipe at me, arrowing a metal girder directly for me, but it met the shield and bounced

off . . . and slammed into the bag that held my dress, shredding plastic and fabric as the girder

was driven a foot into the concrete below.

I stayed where I was, sucking in deep breaths, until it was over and the rain started to fall in a

drenching downpour.

I'd just destroyed a second bridal shop.

David helped me up. He was keeping the rain off– a minor task, after the shield that had saved

us-and I felt the subtle change in him as the Mother opened the flow again, connecting him

back to his power base. His whole body brightened, as well as the light in his eyes.

''Did you see them?'' he asked. I shook my head, frustrated and furious. ''I think I might have.''

''Still in Key West?''

''No. Kissimmee. But they're staying close. Maybe they can't do this at too great a distance.''

He looked around, an odd expression on his face. ''Nobody hurt. They'll call it a miracle.''

I glared at the ruined wedding dress. ''Some miracle,'' I said. ''My credit card charge already

went through.''

I checked in with Lewis. He'd gotten word from Rahel that Kevin had been approached by the

Sentinels, but it was early days; they were checking him out pretty thoroughly, asking around.

No problems there. I doubted anybody had unreserved approval for Kevin; he simply didn't

invite people to like him. He was respected because he was strong, not because he was in any

way a team player.

The Sentinels wouldn't find anything that would put them off. Kevin was an arrogant little shit

most of the time, and he could give drug dealers lessons in insensitivity. I'd seen him do murder.

Granted, it had been well-deserved murder, but his reaction to it had been disturbingly vacant.

Still, Lewis believed the kid was redeemable, and I had to agree. I'd seen firsthand the horror his

stepmother had made out of his life, and while I couldn't really like him, I felt for him.

If Kevin held it together, I was going to owe him big-time.

Not a pleasant thought, really.

My sundress, amazingly, had survived the freak tornado incident, and my shoes weren't too bad.

My hair had a bit of a windblown do, but all in all, I'd gotten off lucky for a change.

Or so I thought.

When David and I emerged from the store and waved away the unnecessary medical attention,

we headed back toward where we'd left the car, several blocks away. David was doing some

subtle work to keep the rain off, so we were relatively dry. The effect became less subtle when a

van pulled up at the curb next to us, launching a wave of dirty water waist-high; it hit David's

shield and rolled off, leaving us dry.

Then I saw the camera in the window, and realized that it was a news van.

''Oh crap,'' I breathed. ''Drop the shield. Drop it now!''

Too late, I realized. They couldn't have missed it. In fact, they'd counted on it, and they'd gotten

it on tape.

I saw it in the triumphant smirk on the reporter's face as the van door slid open. ''Hi, Ms.

Baldwin,'' she said. ''Want to talk to us about why you're once again at the scene of a disaster?

And how exactly you are staying dry in the middle of a thunderstorm? Who's your friend?'' She

gave David a special twice-over, which burned me even more than the fact I'd been caught on

tape. ''What exactly happened back there?''

I realized I was clenching my fists, and tried to relax. The rain was plastering my hair to my face,

and my dress was becoming a soggy, ill-fitting mess. I tried not to think about the shoes.

''Tornado,'' I said briefly. ''At least, that's what they tell me.'' I took David's arm and pulled

him along.

''Reporters?'' he whispered.

''Vultures. Keep going, no matter what. They can smell fear.''

His voice turned warm with amusement. ''Not really afraid of reporters, given what just

happened, but I'll keep that in mind.''

''Shhhhh!''

The reporter donned a transparent raincoat, complete with a cute little hood to protect her hair,

and climbed out of the van. Her camera guy and boom guy came after. The equipment was better

protected from the weather than they were. ''Ms. Baldwin, wait! We want to talk to you about

the Wardens! Was this the work of the Wardens? If so, why was there so much damage? Weren't

you supposed to contain that kind of thing? Was anyone killed or injured?''

''No one was hurt,'' David said. I made a frantic shushing motion and kept him walking. It

didn't matter. They kept pace, and now the camera guy had his portable light glaring on us in the

downpour.

''How do you know that? Sir? Sir?''

''No comment,'' I snapped, and tried to get between David and the camera. I must not have been

as photogenic, because they broke off. I toyed with the idea of sabotaging the equipment, but I

had the feeling somehow that was a bad move this time. Then I spotted it: Across the street,

another news team was following, photographing separately. They were trying to provoke me

into a response.

Great. As if I hadn't had enough trauma in the past few days to last a lifetime.

''Look, this will be a lot easier on you if you talk to us now, rather than force us to run without

your side of the story-''

''Run it,'' I said. ''Somehow, I can't see you guys having a lot of credibility left once everybody

asks you what brand of crack you were smoking. Now, leave us alone.''

They dropped back, mainly because we'd reached the car and were already getting in. I was sure

the videographer had a great shot of me getting into the car, looking pissed off; the only thing