Текст книги "Gale Force"

Автор книги: Rachel Caine

Соавторы: Rachel Caine
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the silk, crushing it to my hips, his fingertips brushing over the skin left exposed by the open V

of the corset at my back.

''Absolutely,'' he said, deadpan, when he pulled back.

''You had no idea.''

''I knew.''

''You liar. You guessed!''

He laughed and buried his face against my neck, picked me up, and whirled me around in the

deserted gazebo. A storm wind lashed surf against the rocks, and a wild cascade of lightning

slashed out of the sky and grounded spectacularly out at sea. It was the joy of the Djinn, made

real.

David sobered, but the light stayed in him, burning fiercely. He kissed me again, this time more

gently, with a promise of things to come, and I felt the curling smile on his lips. ''I need to go,''

he said. ''Things to do.''

''Same here,'' I said. ''They'll be looking for an explanation of what just happened.''

He stepped back, and his gaze raked me from head to toe, ravenous and warm. ''Don't change,''

he said. ''I'll be back. I want to take that off you.''

I shivered, nodded, and watched my lover-no, I supposed I was going to have to get used to the

idea of husband-mist away on the hot, humid breeze.

I couldn't see any other Djinn, but there were plenty of hired security, all looking grim and

efficient as they herded guests to cover. I had a whole contingent of them stationed near me, all

facing outward. I reached up and tapped the nearest one on the shoulder. ''Hey!''

''Ma'am?'' He angled in my direction a huge ear that looked as though it had been badly

mangled in some kind of sculpting accident, but didn't turn to face me. ''You ready to go?''

''Guess so. Looks like the wedding's over!''

He snorted. ''Right. Let's get you to the safe zone!''

''Sure,'' I said. I felt giddy. Almost invincible, actually, but even if bullets might bounce off me,

I was pretty sure they wouldn't do the dress any good. Priorities. ''Hey, didn't you notice all the

cool stuff going on? Supernatural stuff all over the place?''

''Lady,'' he said wearily, ''I've guarded the Rolling Stones. Trust me, you guys are amateurs.''

When the phalanx of guards closed in around me, it was like being in a moving tank of body

armor; I clutched the train of my dress well out of reach of their boots, and hustled along down

the path, up the steps, and into the narrow hallways I'd come through before. No staff were

smiling at me this time; they were probably busy toting up the damage charges. I hoped David's

black AmEx was up to the job.

My security detail arrowed me straight past Lewis and a group of Wardens all huddled together;

I tried to bail out to talk to them, but clearly that wasn't in the plans. No matter how loud I

yelled, we continued moving straight for the elevators. The guards broke up there, facing

outward in an arc while the guy in charge-Mr. Squishy Ear-took my elbow in one massive,

scarred hand and escorted me firmly across the threshold and into one of the lifts. He punched in

a key card, and away we went, just the two of us.

''Where's Cherise? My maid of honor?'' I asked.

''Cute little thing? 'Bout this high?'' He marked off a height just above the waistband of his

ripstop pants. ''Blond?''

''That's the one.''

''Yeah, she's already upstairs. We got her out ASAP. She wasn't any too happy about it. Said

she wanted to see you kick some ass.'' He sent me a sideways look that doubted my ass-kicking

abilities. Sucker.

I smiled sweetly. ''Not in these shoes. They're rentals.''

The elevator lurched and came to a stop, and when my bodyguard came to alert, I held out a

hand and launched myself up into the aetheric, searching for trouble. A Sentinel was in the

woodwork, trying to short-circuit the brakes and snap the cable. Nice. I didn't even have to act;

the Wardens and the Djinn swarmed in a golden blur, smothering the unfortunate enemy

combatant. I smiled serenely at the guard, who looked tense and prone to frowns, and leaned

against the polished wood of the elevator wall. ''So,'' I said, as the lift trembled and started up

again. ''Rolling Stones, eh? Crazy?''

''Hard to believe, I know''-he shrugged-''but I gotta say, lady, in the crazy sweepstakes, you

and your wedding are coming up fast.''

''I wouldn't bet against us.''

The doors dinged at the penthouse level, and I strolled majestically out into the foyer. More

bodyguards, equally grim and serious looking. I wasn't asked for ID; apparently, the dress was a

big tip-off.

I went into the suite, walked straight to the bar, and poured myself a stiff, two-fingered shot of

tequila. No lime, no salt, none of the party trappings. This was about serious alcohol, delivered in

its purest form at maximum impact. It was like getting slapped with an agave cactus; I gasped

and bent over the bar, tingling all over.

''Wow,'' Cherise said, watching me. ''It's like Brides Gone Wild. Impressive.''

I held out my arms, she ran into them, and we hugged. ''Glad you're okay,'' she whispered. ''I

was so scared. . . .''

''I wasn't,'' Kevin said. He was stretched out on my nice beige jacquard sofa, ruining a perfectly

good tuxedo and getting his nicely polished shoes all over the fabric. Unlike Lewis and David,

he wasn't improved by formal wear. He looked like a hoodlum who'd mugged a groomsman. ''I

was betting you'd be barbecued.''

''Asshole,'' Cherise said. It sounded like she meant it for a change, and Kevin's perpetual slouch

straightened a little. ''Her wedding just got blown all to hell. You could at least not be a total

wad about it. For once.''

He sat up completely, brushed the hair out of his eyes, and looked a little less smug. ''Sorry,'' he

said, and almost meant it. ''I mean, I knew it was going to come out the way you wanted it to.

You wanted to draw the Sentinels out; you did it. Most of them got obliterated, right?''

''I don't know,'' I said. ''The plan was to force them out in the open so we could identify them.

That seems to be working pretty well.''

''It wasn't just the wedding,'' Kevin said. ''All the shiny pieces were here, right? Ashan? The

Oracles?''

Yeah, as if I'd actually planned that part. ''Sure. The better to get them to step out and show

themselves. ''

''So you got him. The old guy.'' He meant Bad Bob. I didn't answer. I poured another shot glass

of tequila and downed it.

''You might want to leave,'' I said. ''Because this isn't over.''

Both Kevin and Cherise looked taken aback, looking around at the calm, orderly luxury of the

penthouse. Out at sea, the storms were dissipating; there was still tension in the tectonic plates,

but it was being bled off in harmless ways by the Earth Wardens. The Ma'at were all over the

whole balancing problem. It all looked . . . calm.

''Leave,'' I said, even more softly. I poured two shot glasses and put the bottle aside. ''Go

now.''

Kevin grabbed Cherise's hand and dragged her, still protesting, toward the door. I didn't raise

my head to watch them go. I stayed focused on the silvery glitter of the alcohol in crystal, and

when I heard the door click shut, I said, ''You might as well show yourself. I know you're

here.'' I could feel his presence now. I couldn't believe how it felt-how cold, how empty.

I heard the chuckle, and it was so familiar, so damned familiar it burned. I tried hard not to

shudder, tried to keep my head up and my back straight. ''Tequila, '' Bad Bob said. ''Always

thought you were a scotch girl, Jo.''

''I am,'' I said. ''But I remember you always had a taste for the stuff.'' I took a shot glass and

turned, holding it out.

Sure enough, on the other side of the room, Bad Bob stood watching me. He was wearing a

tuxedo, too, or half of one, anyway; the pants were formal, the shirt untucked, the tie loosened.

No coat. His suspenders were in a garish rainbow that brought to mind the early oeuvre of Robin

Williams.

''Like it?'' He snapped the suspenders with his thumbs. ''Thought I'd help you celebrate the

happy day. And it's a happy day, isn't it? You and David, all cozy and bound up together, till

death do you part.'' Bad Bob grinned, all teeth and crazy blue eyes. ''I'll take that drink now.''

I levitated it across to him. He laughed and snatched it out of the air, threw it back, and blew the

shot glass into powder in midair with a random burst of power.

''You know what I am, don't you?'' he asked. He continued to grin, relentless as a shark, and

ambled slowly around the room, poking and touching things at random. ''You know why I'm so

set on getting you.''

''I know,'' I said. ''I've killed three of you so far.''

That snapped his head around fast, and the grin turned bloody in its intensity. ''Don't flatter

yourself,'' he said. ''You used our own against us twice. That doesn't even count. Any fool

Warden could have done it. But the last-ah, the last one was special. She was mine.''

''I didn't think the Demons had family.''

''I didn't say she was family; I said she was mine. I created her; I cultivated her. I set her on you.

And you stood there and watched her die.'' His smile twitched insanely. ''Poetic justice, I

suppose, your Djinn pouring poison down her throat the way I did it to you in the first place.

Never been much for poetry, myself.'' He stretched out a hand. The bottle of tequila left the bar

and arrowed across the room to smack into his palm. He swallowed one mouthful, then two, and

licked his lips. ''Down to us, isn't it?''

''Is it?'' I cocked my head and smiled back at him, trying to be as winter cold as he. ''So what're

you going to do, Bob? The Djinn have twice the power they did an hour ago, and none of the

restraints they used to have. You can't command them. You can't trick them. And you damn sure

can't scare them anymore. The Wardens know you now, and the ones who thought the idea of

the Sentinels made sense are learning better, fast. You can't threaten to go public. What's left?''

''Same thing that's always left, girly-girl.'' He shrugged. ''Death, horror, destruction. No matter

how good you are, you can't stop it all. I'll push you until you break, you, the Wardens, the

Djinn. Until you make a mistake and I come for you.''

''You don't think coming here was a mistake?'' I asked. '' 'Cause I have to admit, ballsy. Not

real smart, but ballsy.''

''Oh, I'll be gone well before help arrives,'' he said. ''Might surprise you, but I can do the Djinn

thing now-blip around through the aetheric. Handy when you want to visit old, suspicious

friends.''

I felt the atmosphere shift, slide toward the darker spectrums. ''Okay. Nice to see you, Bob.

Now, fuck off.''

''I always did love your sharp tongue,'' he said. ''I'm not going to fight you today. Be a shame

to destroy that dress.'' The bastard winked at me. ''No, I'll just go home, play with my new

friends. You know them, I'll bet: Rahel, that rascal, pretending to be all soft and human like that.

Oh, and my new friend. Someone very special.''

He reached into the shadows, and he pulled out my daughter.

Imara stumbled and fell to her knees, the brick-red dress she normally wore now fluttering and

writhing around her. He'd bound her up with black ropes of twisting, glittering power, and where

they touched her, they burned. No, I thought numbly. Impossible. She was safe; she was taken

back to the chapel; Ashan was guarding her. . . .

''Ashan never did like this one,'' he said. ''Figures on appointing a new Earth Oracle in short

order. Nice friends you have. Maybe you ought to reconsider which side of this you're on, girl;

what do you think?''

I lunged for Imara and slammed into a barrier, one that blew me back across the room to slam

full force into the glass tiles of the bar. I saw stars and darkness, and sank to an awkward sitting

position on the floor, surrounded by fallen shards of mirror.

''Oh, don't fuss. She's not really here. Just thought I'd give you fair warning, because it's going

to hurt you a whole lot worse than it hurts me when I do get around to taking your kid.''

''Stop,'' I said. I felt light-headed, sick, hot. I no longer felt in the least invulnerable. ''What do

you want?''

''I want to make a deal,'' Bad Bob said. ''Your daughter's life for David's. Fair trade.''

''No.'' I snarled it. ''You don't even have her, you bastard; you already said so!''

''I said I don't have her now. Not that I wouldn't have her by the time your little rescue party

fails to take me out. Sorry, kid,'' he said to Imara's image. ''Mommy doesn't love you all that

well, looks like. Too bad, you're a cutie.''

He showed me what he was going to do to her, to my child, and I didn't look away. I wanted to,

desperately, but something in me that was far colder, far wiser than my heart made me stay

strong.

''When I'm finished,'' he said, in a whisper as black as the Unmaking itself, ''then I'll reach

through her to destroy you. But not before. I want you to feel every moment of it, Joanne. Every

. . . single . . . moment.''

The Wardens and the Djinn had finally arrived, no doubt summoned by Kevin and Cherise. I felt

the flare of power outside the doors; they were out there, but Bad Bob was keeping them shut

out. He could do that. He had power to burn . . . but he wasn't doing it alone. I recognized the

signature behind it.

Ashan. Ashan was still interfering, throwing up barriers, trying to get me killed. He'd consider

his problems solved, if I just disappeared from the face of the earth. After all, the vows David

and I had exchanged had elevated the New Djinn in power-made them, I suspected, a match for

the Old Djinn. Maybe even more than a match.

''You don't have my daughter, and you're not going to have her,'' I said, with an icy calm that I

was far from feeling. ''The Djinn would be all over you right now if you'd harmed a hair on an

Oracle's head. You're a fool if you think anything else-and that includes Ashan, by the way.

He might be using you, but he'll never stand with you.''

Bad Bob stared at me for a second. The grisly vision of Imara vanished into mist. Gone. He lifted

the tequila bottle to his lips and drank. Drank it dry. Then he tossed the bottle back to me, and I

snatched it out of the air.

''You come on, princess,'' he said. ''You find out what I've got. Call my bluff.''

I didn't blink. ''All right,'' I said. ''I call.'' Anything, anything to buy time. My backup didn't

dare come at him unprepared, any more than I dared a direct assault against him; they had to be

sure he was cut off from his support, and that they could get to him before he got me. Bad Bob

had it in him to slaughter me, right here, right now. I felt it in the air. David needed to counter

Ashan's influence first.

We'd wanted this. We'd asked for it. I only hoped that we were prepared to actually deal with it,

now that the moment was staring us in the face.

''Good girl.'' That smile, that evil, dark smile, grew wider still. ''So give me your expert

opinion: Do you think this is just another illusion?'' He reached aside, into the shadows, and this

time he pulled out a book: the book, a twin to the one, bound in leather and wrapped in iron, that

I'd last seen in the vault in Ortega's Miami mansion.

I felt the pull of it from here, and the whisper of power. Nope, that was not an illusion. And our

time was running out. I reached through the golden thread that welded me fast to David and

whispered, It's here; he has it here, and felt the Djinn surge in response.

They slammed hard into a black shell of crackling power that Bad Bob threw up so fast it made

me shudder. The Wardens backed off, and the Djinn melted away, circling, looking for

weakness.

I was trapped.

Bad Bob took the iron peg out of the latch with a flick of his finger, opened the book, and flipped

pages. ''You have any idea what's in here, sweetheart?'' he asked. ''What kind of havoc I can

wreak? Ah, here's a good one. . . .'' Words spilled out of his mouth, strange and liquid, and

something in my brain trembled and screamed an alarm.

I froze as the last syllable left his lips, and felt something seize control of me, and a burning

sensation high on my right shoulder blade, like a brand being pressed deep into the flesh. I

couldn't flinch. Couldn't scream. I smelled my own skin burning, and couldn't so much as cry.

This shouldn't happen. This can't happen!

''Hush,'' Bob murmured. ''Sooner done, soonest over. There. Now I own you, sweet little Jo.

The way it was meant to be.'' He snapped the book shut and dropped it; it vanished into mist

before it hit the floor. He was storing it in a pocket universe, somewhere in the aetheric. No way

to get to it without knowing exactly where, without having the keys he'd crafted to hide it.

I still couldn't move. I stayed stiff and silent as Bad Bob walked toward me. He was a short,

bandy-legged old man, but none of that mattered. I was looking at him on the aetheric, and he

was no longer troubling to hide himself at all. He was a morass of boiling black, tentacles

whipping and tangling, razor edges slashing at everything around him, and where he touched it,

the aetheric bled.

I couldn't even close my eyes. You son of a bitch, I thought. How dare you do this. How dare

you. . . .

I felt the power of the Wardens and the Djinn beyond the room flare up into one white-hot unity,

burning through the black shield he'd put up.

Not quickly enough.

''You know, you cost me,'' Bad Bob said. ''I spent a while cultivating all that hate, all that fear

from the Sentinels. And you had to go put on a public show and get all the fanatics to wriggle out

of the woodwork, whether I wanted them to or not.'' He leaned very close to me, lips lover-

close, and whispered, ''That's why I need you, Joanne. Be thou bound to my service.''

That made no sense. I was no Djinn. The Rule of Three didn't work on me, and in any case the

agreement between the Warden and the Djinn had ended; it was just words. It meant nothing.

It had to be a bluff.

And I couldn't help a surge of pure fear, because there was so much visceral delight in his face.

''Be thou bound to my service.'' His eyes were blood-shot, not entirely human anymore. His

breath smelled foul and ancient, something ages in the ground.

Stop, I wanted to say. I couldn't. He wasn't even letting me breathe, and my lungs were crying

out for air. I couldn't even wield the power necessary to supply a trickle of oxygen. Stop this.

''Be . . . thou . . . bound . . . to . . . my . . .'' He whispered each word separately, eyes drifting

half closed in pleasure, and then smiled. ''Service. Ahhhh.''

I felt the white-hot force of the united Wardens and Djinn break apart into a million spinning

pieces. The thread between me and David held, but only barely. Things were changing, terribly

changing, and I couldn't see the edges of the wave that was rippling out from this moment. I

didn't know what he'd done, or how, but it was flooding the world, drowning everything.

And when the flood receded, there was an ominous silence. The aetheric felt clean and very

empty.

I drew in a whooping, gasping breath and sobbed it out, then breathed in again. Some of the

black spots dancing in front of my eyes started to recede . . . not all, by any means. I felt one half

step from unconscious, but I kept myself on my feet, facing Bad Bob.

''There,'' he said. ''That's better.'' He chucked me under the chin, as if I were his favorite niece

who'd just performed a cute trick. Or a puppy. ''Oh, you have questions, don't you?''

I managed to get enough breath to gasp, ''What– did-you-''

''You had a Demon Mark, once upon a time,'' he said. ''You may have gotten rid of the Mark,

but it left you stained. Vulnerable. Mine.''

The Wardens burned through the shield and launched their assault, with or without the Djinn,

and the doors of the penthouse blew off the hinges. Lewis strode in, surrounded by a barely

visible nimbus of red light, and behind him came a grim-faced phalanx of my friends: Marion

Bearheart, walking with a cane; Kevin, scared but determined; Luis Rocha, the Earth Warden I'd

first met during the original Fort Lauderdale event. Dozens more, people I knew and liked,

people I hadn't even known would put themselves at risk for me.

David stepped out of the center of the group.

''Whoops, Daddy's home,'' Bob said. ''Time for me to be leaving. You will come see me, won't

you? I'll expect you around sunset. Love that bloody color on the water.''

My muscles were working again. I shakily reached for power and pulled it down, pulled it from

all around me, every surface. The room lit up with miniature lightning strikes, all bleeding

toward me.

''Bride of Frankenstein,'' Bad Bob said. ''All right, all right, I'm going. Don't set your hair on

fire.''

He crooked his little finger and vanished with an audible pop of air. I stared at the spot in the

aetheric; the writhing black tentacles took longer to leave, finally slipping through a raw wound

in the world.

I didn't drop, though I'm sure everybody expected me to. Instead, I turned to David and asked in

what seemed like a very normal tone of voice, ''How badly are we screwed?''

He should have rushed to me, taken me in his arms. It was what he always did-what I expected

him to do.

But he stayed where he was, watching me, and I no longer understood what I saw in his bright,

burning-penny eyes.

He said, ''Ashan was right. The vow we exchanged has made the New Djinn vulnerable again to

the Rule of Three. My people are at risk now. From yours. We did this, the two of us.''

He sounded . . . distant. Almost cold. I couldn't control a shiver. Go to him, I told myself, but I

couldn't seem to move. If I moved, I'd fall down.

''He's already turned Rahel to his cause,'' he continued. ''She belongs to him. You can't trust

her anymore. Remember that.''

He sounded so alone. I got myself steadied, a little, and took a step toward him.

He stepped back. Keeping plenty of space between us.

''I can't,'' he said. ''I'm sorry. I have to see to the safety of my people now.''

''David-''

For an instant, I saw the torment inside him, and it stopped whatever I was going to say dead in

my throat. ''I can't,'' he whispered. ''He's destroying her. He's taking great pleasure in it. How

many more of my people have to die, Jo? We're not mortal. This shouldn't be happening to us. It

should never have happened.'' He blinked, and the metallic shine came back in his eyes. ''I'm

sorry.''

The Djinn left. Just . . . left. All of the Djinn, gone without a sound, including David.

He hadn't even said good-bye.

I collapsed to my knees. Someone-I didn't even see who-helped me up. I told everyone to get

out, but they wouldn't. Understandable, I supposed.

I went into the bathroom, slammed and locked the door, and skinned down the fabric of the dress

to get a look at my right shoulder blade.

Bad Bob had branded me, the same way he'd branded his Sentinels. It was a mark in the shape of

a torch. The old stains left from the Demon Mark I'd once carried had given him a gateway . . .

like a cut letting in bacteria. And now I was infected.

The proof was right there on my skin.

I stared into the mirror at the black mark, hideously reminded of the Demon Mark that had once

grown inside me, and how that had felt.

How good that had felt.

I flinched at a hesitant knock on the door.

''You okay in there?'' Lewis asked.

My eyes, in the mirror, were wide and empty. He can have me, any time he wants me. I couldn't

allow that. If David wasn't going to fight Bad Bob . . .

Then I had to.

We settled up damages with the Palms; nobody acquainted me with a final figure, for which I

was very grateful. I hoped the Wardens' bank account wouldn't snap under the strain. I changed

out of the lovely wedding dress alone, not daring to let anybody– especially Cherise-catch a

look at the brand-new black tattoo I was sporting. When I came out of the bedroom dressed in

jeans and a purple knit shirt, the entire crowded roomful of Wardens stopped talking.

''What?'' I snapped. ''Never saw anybody left at the altar before?'' Wow. Being dumped made

me bitchy, which was, of course, a brave front. I didn't feel bitchy; I felt . . . alone. I felt as if my

whole world had gone the dead, burned color of the torch on my shoulder.

Looks were exchanged among my friends. I wanted to kick and punch something, preferably

Bad Bob, until the sun burned out, but I'd have settled for anyone who said something flippant

right at that moment.

Nobody did. Cherise finally stood up and said, ''Let me take that.''

Oh. The dress. It was draped over my arm like a limp silk corpse. I held it out to her, and she

zipped it safely back in its protective plastic cocoon.

''Probably should get that back to the store,'' I said. I was trying to disconnect, trying to shut off

all my emotions. I was being pretty successful at it, too.

Cherise looked devastated, as if I'd admitted defeat. ''No,'' she said. ''Um-can't return it.

There was a smudge.'' She put on her determined face, which was just cute, and dared me to say

otherwise. ''You'll have to keep it.''

''What for?'' I asked. ''Not like we're going to get a do-over on the wedding.'' And that nearly

broke me. I wanted David. I wanted him to manifest out of the thin air and sweep me up in his

arms and carry me off. I wanted Bad Bob to be gone and all to be right with the world, for once.

That wasn't going to happen. At least, it wasn't going to happen unless I made it happen. All that

is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing. I supposed old Edmund Burke had

meant to include women in that. And if he hadn't, well, screw him.

''What's the plan?'' I asked Lewis. Lewis seemed lost in thought, but that was probably because,

in his typical fashion, he was manipulating a dozen different things at once. Now, he looked up,

met my eyes, and I had a second of icy doubt. Could he see what Bad Bob had done to me? No.

If he could have, Paul would have been busted for a Sentinel the second Lewis laid eyes on him.

Whatever Bad Bob had done to me, it was invisible to the Wardens. And the Djinn, I reminded

myself. David hadn't tipped to Paul's betrayal, either.

I knew I should say something, but if I did, I'd be making it real.

I'd be admitting defeat.

''We have to go after him,'' Lewis said. ''We got most of his support, I think; he's isolated,

maybe even alone. We need to get him before he can recruit more followers.''

''He's going to go after the Oracles,'' I said. ''After my daughter, Lewis. I can't let that

happen.''

He didn't argue the point. ''He won't go after anybody if we don't give him the time.''

''Do we have anything that can counter what he's got?'' Meaning, the Unmaking. And his sheer,

horrible power.

''Maybe,'' Lewis said. ''But I think this is going to be more a matter of wearing him down until

we can strike. More of a siege than a blitz attack.''

The light dawned. ''You know where he is.''

''He's at the Wardens' safe house, on the beach,'' he said. ''He didn't try to hide it. He's

inviting us to come get him.''

''Which means it's a trap.''

Lewis nodded. ''But what are our options? We've lost the Djinn, but if we don't go for him now,

he'll have time to build up his organization again. Even if Bad Bob's got control of Rahel, we

may never have a better opportunity.''

No, I didn't like it. This was Bad Bob's version of our wedding-an obvious, juicy target, just

waiting for us to strike it. ''We can wait him out.''

''He can move through the aetheric, like a Djinn. How do you propose we seal him off, without

the Djinn's cooperation?''

Lewis had a point. We needed to get Bad Bob to fight us on our terms, and that meant letting

him think he was winning.

That meant walking into the trap-but being ready to turn the trap to our advantage.

Lewis was thinking of something I hadn't, but then, he usually was. ''Your link to David. It's

still holding?''

I went still, listening. It was-slender as a silk thread, but strong as steel. I couldn't reach him,

because he was blocking me, but I could feel him. I nodded.

''Can you draw power from it?'' Lewis asked.

I concentrated, and felt a tingle of energy creep along the link from David to me. Then more. I

held up my hand, and a golden, unfocused glow formed in my palm.

Lewis didn't look happy with the outcome, which surprised me until he said, ''Then you're the

one who has the best chance. He'll send you energy to keep you alive, and as the Conduit, he's

got access to more energy than any other Djinn except Ashan. That could give you the edge you

need to defeat Rahel, if it comes to that. And Bad Bob.''

I needed to tell him, couldn't avoid the embarrassing and fatal truth any longer. I shook the glow

out like a match and opened my mouth to explain about the mark Bad Bob had burned into my

back– about my vulnerability to him.

I couldn't. Not a single word.

''Jo?''

I focused past him, to the delicate, antique desk in the corner. There was creamy, expensive hotel

stationery and a Montblanc pen right there, just waiting for me to scribble out a warning if I

couldn't force my voice box to cooperate.

Except I couldn't so much as make a move toward it.

Dammit. Bad Bob had installed safeguards.

''Nothing,'' I heard myself say. ''I think you're right. Send me in. I think I'm your best bet.''

Lewis didn't seem happy with it, but I knew he'd do it. ''Not alone,'' he said. ''I've already got

teams surrounding the compound. I'll go with you.''

''No, you won't,'' I said, and I meant it. ''Lewis, one of us at risk is enough. The Wardens need

a leader, and like it or not, you're it. I'm expendable.''

''Don't say that,'' he said. Not, I noticed, a denial, just an avoidance. Lewis was far too practical

not to realize that I was right about that. ''I said you had the best chance, but we can do this

another way, Jo. All you have to do is say the word, and we'll-''

''Lose? Yeah, that works great. Good plan.'' I felt tears sting my eyes. ''Come on. Have I ever

backed off from certain death? Ever? Even when I had something to live for?''

He flinched at that one, but he didn't look away. ''No,'' he said. ''Bad Bob knows that, too. He's

going to count on it. Don't let him push you into a corner, or you'll die for nothing. I don't think