Thin Air

FIVE

I screamed and sat up, lost my balance, fell, and ended up sobbing and gasping for breath. The air around me was still and cool, and there was grit under my palms where we’d tracked snow and dirt into the tent from outside. It smelled like unwashed blankets and sweat and fear.

Back to reality.

I felt an overwhelming surge of sickness, fought it down, and slowly sat up. My breath came hot and ragged, and I wasn’t sure if my head would ever stop throbbing. Oh, God, it hurt.

Lewis’s hand pressed warmly and silently on my shoulder, and then he went past me to kneel beside Cherise. Her eyes were closed, and she was very still.

Too still.

“Is she okay?” I asked. My voice sounded raw and ragged, and I didn’t like the way it seemed to quaver at the edges. My head felt as if someone had stuffed it, mounted it, and used it for batting practice.

Mom, the image in Cherise’s memory had said. Mom. David had said that we had a child. I hadn’t expected her to be…adult. And look so much like me.

Imara.

“She’s alive,” he said, and for a crazy second I thought he meant Imara, but he was focused on Cherise. “Christ, Jo. How did you do that? How could you do it? You’re not an Earth Warden; you’ve never…” He turned to me, and I saw his eyes flare into colors, like the Djinn, but no, that was on the aetheric; I was seeing it superimposed over the real world and it was disorienting, sickening. I tried to get up, and fell down. Hard.

“Jo!” He grabbed me and held me, and I could feel his whole body trembling, a wire-fine vibration. He was so bright, I couldn’t see. I squeezed my eyes shut. “Focus. God, what did you do to yourself?”

I could barely breathe. Nothing was right. Too much color, too much sound, every heartbeat thundering from him was like a roar, his voice echoed in my head and deafened me, even the smells were too raw and immediate…

His touch was the only thing that soothed me, stroking through my sweaty hair, over my skin, grounding me gently back in the world.

“Shhhh,” he whispered in my ear, barely a breath. “Shhhh, now. Breathe. Breathe.”

He was rocking me in his arms, and I could feel my heart hammering wildly. My body felt too tight to contain me; I was bursting out of it; I was…I was…

Oh, God.

I exploded with light, convulsing in his embrace, trying to scream but my throat was locked tight, sealing in sound.

And Lewis held me until the waves subsided and left me empty and broken, trembling with reaction.

I’d dug my fingernails into his skin, and when I let go I saw blood welling up in the wounds.

He didn’t speak. I don’t know if he could. His face…his face was full of an indescribable mixture of wonder and horror.

Cherise sat up as suddenly as if somebody had jerked her upright by the hair, and blinked at the two of us in surprise. “What just happened?” she asked. “I feel better. Am I better?”

Lewis let out a slow, unsteady breath. “Yeah,” he said. “You’re better.” And he looked at me. Wordless, again.

“And me?” I whispered. “What am I?”

He was looking at me with unfocused eyes. With the eyes of a Warden.

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “But whatever you are now, you’re damn strong.”

“Yeah, like that’s news,” Cherise said, then blinked and stretched. “Man, I’m hungry. What’s for dinner?”

I was looking into Lewis’s face, and he was staring right back at me. It felt intimate, but not in a sexual kind of way-this was something else. Frank and appraising and a little frightening. My heart rate was slowing, not speeding up. My body was cooling down from overdrive.

“Prime rib,” Lewis said, and broke the stare to turn to smile at her. “Baked potato. Fresh hot bread with whipped butter.”

“Food tease,” she said, and unzipped herself from the sleeping bag. “What’s really for dinner?”

“Trail bar.” He fished in his backpack, found one, and handed it over.

“Comes with champagne, right?” Cherise’s smile was brave, but still scared. He offered a bottle of water with the gravity of a sommelier.

“Only the finest vintage,” he said, and cast another wary, strangely impartial glance at me. “You’d better eat something, too.”

I didn’t want to. The trail bar tasted like…trail dust. Even the chocolate chips seemed bitter and wrong, but I doggedly chewed and swallowed. The water seemed all right, and I chugged it until I burped. It all stayed down, and after I’d finished the brief meal I felt full and more than a little exhausted. Lewis watched me without seeming to, looking for any sign I was about to come apart at the seams, I guessed, but he didn’t ask me any questions. He quizzed Cherise lightly about what she remembered-which was very little, just what she’d told me before-and how she was feeling, which was apparently great. And sleepy, because she kept yawning and finally curled up into the warm nest of the sleeping bag and fell asleep.

I was just as tired, if not even more so, and gravity dragged my eyelids down one remorseless fraction of an inch at a time. Lewis didn’t say anything, just took my empty bottle and set it aside and helped me climb into my own sleeping bag. It felt amazing being warm and horizontal.

Lewis’s hand smoothed hair back from my brow, and his eyes were at once wary and concerned. “Do you know what you did?” he asked.

I mutely shook my head.

He leaned over and kissed me very gently. “You did the impossible,” he said. “And that worries me.”

It worried me, too.

But not quite enough to keep me awake.

“Rise and shine, ladies.” That was Lewis’s voice, too loud and too cheerful. I groaned and tried to burrow into the warmth of my blankets, because the chill outside was sharp, but he robbed me of that pleasure by unzipping the sleeping bag and flipping it open, exposing me to the cold. “Right now. We’re breaking camp. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover if we’re going to make it to the rendezvous.”

I didn’t want to think about it. My calves and ankles and thighs were stiff and sore, and my neck felt like it had been locked in an iron vise all night. I had a headache, and every bruise I’d collected over the past few days was making itself loudly known.

But yes, I got up. Mainly because Cherise was already moving, and it would have looked pretty bad to be outdone by the girl who’d been on the verge of death.

Lewis jerked his head toward me and exited the tent. I squeezed out after him and groaned softly as the brutal cold closed in around me. I was surprised my breath didn’t freeze and fall to the ground.

Lewis wasn’t even wearing his goddamn coat.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Sore,” I said. “Tired. Fine.”

He looked at me, and I was sure he was examining me in more than the normal way. After a few seconds he gave me a grudging nod. “You look all right,” he said. “But, Jo, understand: What happened with you yesterday, that wasn’t natural. It wasn’t right. You’re a Weather and Fire Warden. You are not an Earth Warden. There’s only one person alive right now with all three powers, and that’s me.”

“Is that what this is about? You’re jealous?”

He barked out a laugh that hung white in the still air. “No. God, no. If you were truly a triple-threat Warden, I’d be completely relieved. But, Jo, I don’t see it. I don’t see it in you today, and I never saw it in you before. So what the hell happened? After…You seemed…” He looked honestly uncertain how to phrase it. I saved him the trouble.

“Orgasmic? Yeah. Kinda.” He looked away. “Not normal, huh?”

“There’s no normal when you talk about a thing like this, Jo. Did you access Cherise’s memories?”

I nodded.

“Did they make sense to you?”

“At first. It got more confusing the further I went.”

“Because your brain was overstimulated,” he said. “Which in turn must have triggered the-”

“Big O,” I supplied. “Honestly, Lewis, you’re not twelve; you can say what you mean. Come on!”

He ignored that. “That means you were channeling power through neural paths that normally carry sexual energy,” he said, half to himself. “Which would fit, because some of the Earth Wardens are wired that way, too. But why can’t I see it now? Your aura is just showing normal strength, in the normal range for you. Weather and Fire, and the Fire’s not that strong.”

I shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“It might, yeah.”

“Does it matter enough to freeze our asses off talking about it right now?” I demanded. “Because in case you hadn’t noticed, you’re shivering again.”

“Am I?” He looked honestly surprised, and reached into the tent to grab his coat, which he draped around his shoulders. “There. Happy?”

“Thrilled, man.”

Lewis quickly moved on to other, more practical things, like breaking camp, which Cherise and I didn’t do all that efficiently, and then leading us on the second half of the Winter Wonderland Death March. Cherise asked questions, some of which I could answer and a lot of which I couldn’t. Lewis rescued me on the biggest one, which had to do with what had happened to Cherise and Kevin.

“You remember being sent out by the Wardens,” he said. “To fight the fire in California?”

“Yeah.” Cherise was flushed and breathless, but on her it looked good. Lewis wasn’t exactly immune to it, either, even if it wasn’t conscious attraction on his part; he was simply lagging back, paying more attention to her than mercilessly slave-driving us through the snow like a pack of sled dogs. “He was showing me how he did some stuff. Like creating firebreaks. It was cool.”

“Do you remember what happened then?”

She was silent for a few seconds, blue eyes far away, and then she nodded. “This woman came out of the trees. At least, I think it was a woman.” She frowned. “Why can’t I remember what she looked like?”

Lewis sent me a look that clearly said, Demon. I didn’t disagree. Once you’re already off the cliff, you might as well pretend you’re flying.

“What happened after that?” Lewis asked as we puffed our way down another treacherous hillside, feeling for good footholds beneath a cruelly smooth blanket of snow. I nearly slipped on a rock that turned under my foot, and grabbed wildly. Lewis caught my arm and steadied me.

Cherise took her time answering. “Um…I remember falling, and there was-I don’t know. Pain, maybe. I mostly remember passing out. And waking up out here, in the snow. Freezing.”

Eerily similar to my experience, in fact, except that she’d managed to hang on to her clothes. Lewis and I traded another long look.

“Could I have been-”

“No,” he said, definitely. “What happened to her was clear. What happened to you isn’t.”

He tested the featureless snow ahead of us with a long twisted branch, then nodded for us to come ahead. We trudged in silence for a while.

“I do remember something,” Cherise said suddenly. “I remember-hey, did you shoot me?” She frowned and unzipped her coat to peer at her sweater. “Oh, man. You really did. But I’m not-”

“We’ll talk later,” Lewis promised. “Save your strength. We’ve got a ways to go.”

No kidding. Hours of it, breathlessly scrambling over cold, slippery terrain. Not my best time ever. But I had to laugh when Cherise, clearly tiring, accepted Lewis’s help across a narrow frozen stream. His big hands spanned her waist and he lifted her easily over. “Oooooh, nice hands. You know, I could get to like you, mister.”

“Ditto.” Lewis grinned briefly, and then turned his attention back to the trail.

“Hey, Lewis?” Cherise’s cheer had faded almost instantly, and she grabbed his sleeve to drag him to a halt. “You haven’t said, about Kevin. Do you think…Did whatever happened to me happen to him, too? Was he out there looking for help?”

Lewis glanced over at me, then focused on the snow. “Not likely,” he said. “If what I think is true, Kevin would have lasted longer. Been of more use. For all I know, he could still be under her control.”

“Her, who?” We reached the bottom of the long icy hillside and started the tiring trek up the next one, hauling ourselves by grabbing icy branches when the going got too tough. “Come on, you guys are like superheroes or something! There’s got to be something we can do for him!”

Lewis looked at her for a second, and his eyes looked dark and cold. “If there was,” he said, “I’d be damn well doing it. But I can’t take chances. Not with the two of you.”

Cherise’s foothold broke loose, and she began to slide. I gripped a handy branch, reached down, and grabbed her by the coat sleeve, hauling her upright again. Lewis helped me get her to the top of the hill, where we paused for breath. The view might have been gorgeous, except for the low clouds obscuring the mountains and pressing down like dirty cotton on the treetops. Snow continued to fall in a steady, soft, relentless assault.

I wanted to ask how far we had left to go, but it wasn’t worth wasting my breath. I didn’t think it would help if I knew. My legs were burning, sore in the calf muscles, and I had scrapes and bruises and my headache hadn’t gone away. My acquired memory of Cherise’s experiences had settled into an uneasy, slippery state that felt like I could have imagined them or dreamed them. But at least I had a memory of me, of the television station, of Cherise, of Sarah, of…

Of the girl calling me Mom.

“Lewis,” I said. He hesitated in the act of stabbing the branch through the snow, then took two or three more steps. “I saw Imara. In Cherise’s memories.”

He didn’t answer. He took another step. I followed in his wake, puffing for breath. The air felt icy and wet around us, and sleet burned my face. The sky was an unbroken gray bowl, and it felt oppressive, as if it were slowly lowering down onto my head. Nature. Who needed it?

“You going to talk to me about her?” I demanded. It came out sharper than I intended.

“No,” he said. “It’s one complication you don’t need right now. One thing at a time, Jo. Let’s get ourselves safe before-”

“Before we talk about my dead kid?” I shot back. “Well, if you’re worried about me breaking down, don’t. I can’t even remember her. All I have is a name and a face.” That wasn’t true, but I didn’t want him to know how raw and bloody that simple vision had left me.

Cherise stopped in her tracks, puffing hard. “She’s dead?” she blurted, and made a gesture as if she were going to reach out toward me, but then thought better of it. “Oh, my God. What happened?”

“I don’t know,” I snapped. “I don’t know anything. That’s the problem.”

Lewis poked the stick into the snow with unnecessary violence.

“I want to know how she died,” I said.

“If wishes were horses, you’d be doing one fifty in a cherry red Mustang on the autobahn.” He sounded bleak and cool. “No.”

“You son of a bitch.”

“Probably.” He gave me a smile that was equal parts apology and sadness. “But I’ve always been like that. You’ve just forgotten about-”

He stopped in his tracks, straightened, and held up a hand for silence. Cherise and I both froze, too. Wind swirled across the clearing, picking up snow crystals and peppering me in the face with them, but I didn’t move.

In the distance I heard a faint chopping sound. “What is that?” I whispered, and then I recognized it. That was the sound of a helicopter. “Trouble?”

“No,” Lewis said. “That’s what I was hoping for. We just arrived here a little early, that’s all.”

“Here?” Cherise turned a slow circle. “Where’s here, exactly?”

Lewis held up his GPS device, which had a blinking red light. “Rendezvous point. That’s our ride out of here.”

That suddenly. Wow. Except that even though that had to be good news-right?-Lewis didn’t look any less tense. He shrugged out of his backpack and unzipped pockets, moving quickly and competently.

“So what’s the problem?” I asked. “Because there’s a problem, right?” There was always a problem.

“I think we’re being followed,” he said. “Head for the tree line,” he said. “Both of you. Move it.” Cherise took off instantly, plunging through the snow as quickly as possible. When I didn’t immediately snap to obey, Lewis yelled it at me, full throat: “Move!” A drill sergeant couldn’t have put more menace into it. I galloped clumsily along, my feet sinking deep into the snow. I prayed I wouldn’t hit a sinkhole, because a broken leg right now would be inconvenient.

When I looked back, Lewis was standing in the middle of the clearing, looking up at the gray sky. His backpack was at his side, and in his hand was a black, angular shape-the gun he’d fired at Cherise.

He scanned the far side of the clearing, but it was obvious it was a useless effort; he might have sensed trouble coming, but he wasn’t sure which direction it was heading. He saw me hesitating, caught in the open, and motioned for me to keep running. Cherise had already made it to the trees; I saw a flash of pink as she found cover and stayed there.

And I would have followed her, really, but I caught sight of motion to Lewis’s left, out in the deep forest shadows, and I sensed a blurring, as if someone were trying to avoid notice.

“Lewis!” I yelled it, but the increasingly loud churning of the rotors drowned me out. “Lewis! Over there!” I waved my arms frantically, trying to catch his eye, and just as I did something hot ignited in the tree line where the blur had been, incandescent and round, and it shot straight toward me.

I didn’t even think; I just hit the snow face-first. The fireball sizzled over my head right where my midsection would have been had I been caught flat-footed, and rolled away, hissing into open snow, where it quickly melted drifts in a five-foot radius to the bare dirt.

That caught Lewis’s attention. He whirled just as Kevin stepped out of the trees. The teen looked grimy and scraped, but there was a burning light in his eyes, and as I wondered what to do he held up his hand, palm up, and formed another ball of fire in it.

Apparently my dive-for-it tactic was Warden-Approved, because Lewis did the same thing; he waited until Kevin threw the fireball, and then threw himself flat in the snow. Kevin’s fireball streaked through the air and exploded like a bottle of napalm against a tree on the far side of the clearing-he’d thrown that one with a lot more fury. Lewis rolled, brought up the gun, aimed…

And didn’t pull the trigger. I held my breath, horrified, because Kevin was already reloading, forming fire in his hands and snarling in rage.

No. Dammit, why didn’t Lewis shoot?

Kevin threw the plasma straight at Lewis, who was helpless and prone on the ground, and Lewis still didn’t pull the trigger.

He also didn’t try to avoid the impact of the flame.

It hit and erupted in white-hot fury, sizzling the snow around him into an instant spring thaw, and then Lewis was on fire. I screamed and started toward him, then stopped, because Lewis-burning all over, fire clinging to him like a second skin-calmly pushed himself up to his feet, brushed a hand over his chest like a man flicking away dust, and the flames just…died.

Not a mark on him.

Kevin’s eyes went wider, but then he shut down, went hard and cold. “You cold-blooded son of a bitch,” he spit at Lewis. “I’m going to kill you.”

“Good luck with that,” Lewis said. “I think the waiting list is into double digits by now.”

“Where’s Cherise? What did you do to her?”

Lewis took a step toward him. He was still holding the gun, but carefully, at his side. I doubted Kevin could even see it. “Kevin, relax. She’s all right.”

“No. No, she’s not, or she’d be here. She’d be with me.” Kevin’s fingers, consciously or not, were dripping with fire. “You’re lying. You hurt her.”

“I’ve got no reason to lie to you,” Lewis said. His voice was still and quiet, very gentle, and he continued moving toward the boy without seeming to be in any hurry at all. “She was hurt, Kevin, but she’s better now. You’re hurt, too. I need you to stop fighting me. Can you do that?”

“No!” Kevin screamed, and extended both hands toward Lewis. Fire erupted in a hot, incandescent wall that swept toward Lewis at a frightening rate, searing the snow into instant steam, leaving everything dead and smoking behind it…

And I caught a flash of pink, and Cherise ran out in front of the advancing flames, and stopped just in front of Lewis.

“No!” I screamed, and lunged up. “Cherise, no! He can’t see you!”

Kevin’s view was blocked by the flames. Maybe he could see Lewis, I didn’t know, but he couldn’t possibly have seen Cherise, and he was going to kill her.

And she wasn’t going to move.

Lewis put out one hand, palm out, and stopped the wall of fire cold. His fingers curled down, and so did the blaze, collapsing into a confusion of hot streamers and flickering out of existence a bare two feet from Cherise’s pale, terrified face.

When he saw her, Kevin’s mouth opened, a dark O of horror, and he lurched forward at the same time she started toward him. I climbed up to my feet, brushing away the snow, as the two of them collided to form a frantic pile of arms and legs.

Kevin was talking as he kissed her, but the words were only for Cherise, and besides, the noise of the approaching helicopter was rattling around the valley like thunder. I moved back toward Lewis, feeling tired and achy and even more anxious than before. What if Kevin was still possessed? What if we had to kill him? Oh, God.

Lewis was ready for that; I could see it in the way he was standing, watching the two of them. Nothing but calculation in his eyes. If he thought it was adorable, the slacker and the beach bunny reuniting, he kept it well hidden behind a blank, empty expression.

“Stay behind me,” he said as I approached. I nodded and obeyed. “Watch for the helicopter. Signal it when you see it.”

I risked a glance over his shoulder and saw that Cherise had taken Kevin’s hand and was leading him over toward us. “Cherise,” Lewis called. “Let go and step aside.”

“But-”

“Do it.”

I’d have done what he said, too; that tone didn’t leave any room for negotiation. I scanned the skies-still nothing but low, gray clouds-and peeked again. Cherise let go of Kevin’s hand and moved away-not far, but far enough for Lewis’s purposes, apparently.

Kevin glared at him. The kid looked ill, pale, frostbitten, and on his last legs. As Lewis took a step forward, fire began dripping from Kevin’s fingers.

“Stop fighting me,” Lewis said, voice dropping low. He was using some kind of power, something that made me feel sleepy even in the corona effect; I saw Cherise yawn and stagger. “Cherise is fine. Let us take care of you now. I know what happened. You have to stop fighting, Kevin. I’m not your enemy.”

Kevin swayed. His hands fell to dangle at his sides, and fire dripped and smoked from his fingertips, hissing into the snow. “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t touch me. You shouldn’t touch me. In case.”

“I know,” Lewis said. He was nearly within grabbing range. “It’s okay. It’s gone now. You’re going to be all right.”

Kevin staggered and collapsed to his knees in the snow. Where his hands met the white powder, the snow sizzled into steam. “I tried,” he mumbled, and shook his head angrily. Fire flew like drops of sweat. “I tried to stop it. It came out of the forest fire; I’d never seen anything like that before; I didn’t know what to…I couldn’t protect her. I thought I could, but-”

Lewis was there by then, and without any hesitation at all he grabbed Kevin and pulled him upright. “It’s not your fault,” he said. “There’s not a Warden alive who could have done any better. Including me. You survived. That’s the important thing.”

Kevin was barely conscious, and Cherise moved to help support him, casting looks at Lewis that silently pleaded for him to make things right. I heard the thump-thump-thump of rotors overhead growing clearer, and finally spotted a shadow moving through the mist.

I started scissoring my arms. The color of my down jacket-green-might not be enough for them to pick us out, but I did some jumping up and down and yelling, even though I knew the yelling was useless. The helicopter headed toward us, hovered overhead, and started circling in for a landing.

As I lowered my arms to shield my eyes from blowing snow, I saw someone standing in the shadows across the clearing. She was tall, and she had long, dark hair that blew in a silken sheet on the wind. She wasn’t wearing a coat, just a pair of blue jeans, some not-very-practical boots, and a baby-doll tee in aqua blue. I had that disorientation again, the same as when I’d been watching myself through Cherise’s eyes, but this was different. For one thing, it wasn’t a memory. She was there, facing me, in real time.

It took exactly one second for the full implications to hit me, hard, and run me down like a speeding train.

“Imara?” I whispered. Or tried. My voice was locked tight in my throat. I glanced desperately at Lewis, but he was occupied with the kids, and besides, he couldn’t possibly have heard me over the roar of the descending machine. “Oh, God. Imara, is it you?” Because it had to be my daughter, didn’t it? She looked just like me-the same height, the same curves, the same black hair, although hers looked better cared for at the moment.

And the wind blew her hair back, revealing her face fully. She smiled, and my whole skin shivered into gooseflesh, because that smile was wrong. I felt the dark impact of it all the way across the open snowy space. She was not my daughter. There was a crawling, sticky sense of evil to it. There was also an overwhelming feeling of danger, even though she wasn’t making any overt moves in my direction.

She was…me.

“Lewis!” I said, startled into a yell.

He can’t help you, she said, as clearly as if she were standing at normal conversational distance. It wasn’t a voice, though. Not really. If he does, I’ll have to take action. Do you want me to destroy him? And the children? I will. It means nothing to me, really.

She wasn’t my daughter.

She was the Demon.

Walk toward me, she said. Walk toward me, and no more have to be harmed. That’s what you want, isn’t it? I promise you, I will make it painless.

“Lewis,” I said, louder. “Lewis, dammit, look!”

You’ll only make this harder in the end.

She turned and walked back into the trees. Gone. I couldn’t even seen tracks where she’d been standing.

“What?” Lewis shouted to me, suddenly at my side and bending his head close to mine to be heard over the noise. The dull blunt-force thud of helicopter blades was very loud now. “What’s wrong?”

Would he believe me if I told him? Or would he think I’d just finally lost my last screw? There was nothing to see there now, and as I extended the senses that Lewis and David had been showing me how to use, I got…nothing. Nothing but whispering trees and a slow, sleeping presence that I assumed was how I now perceived the Earth.

“Nothing,” I said. “Never mind.”

I watched as the helicopter began its descent. I held my hair back against the harsh, ice-edged wind it kicked up, and backed up with Lewis to give it room to land. The helicopter touched down, and the rotors slowed but didn’t stop. The emblem on the side was some kind of seal, and nothing I recognized.

A burly shape, well muffled in winter gear, hopped out of the passenger door, ducked the way people instinctively do when there’s sharp metal chopping the air just about head level, and hurried toward me through the snow. He shouted something to me that sounded like, Need a ride? which was fine with me.

I helped Lewis load Cherise and Kevin into the helicopter, and belted myself in for the rattling, noisy ride.

You’re safe now, I told myself. It’s all okay.

But I didn’t really believe it.

If I’d ever been in a helicopter before, I didn’t know it, but one thing was for certain: I sure didn’t like it. The dull roar of the rotors never let me forget that those fragile blades were all that stood between this clanking metal insect and a catastrophic crash, and I shuddered to think about all of the things that could happen to all those very breakable parts involved, including my own.

It was also a rough trip, full of bounces, jounces, drops, sideways lurches, and other exciting contraventions of gravity. I kept my eyes squeezed shut, clung to the handhold strap, and pretended not to be scared out of my mind.

Lewis, next to me, was so relaxed I thought he might actually drop off into a nap. He held my hand-not a romantic gesture, and he must have regretted it when I periodically dug my nails into his skin in sheer terror. A gentleman born, he didn’t pull away. On his other side perched Kevin, hunched in on himself like someone nursing a gut wound. His face was tight and looked years older than it had just minutes ago, even though Cherise was pressed against him like a winter coat. I felt inarticulately guilty, as if there were something I might have done.

The Demon looks like me.

Yeah, that made me feel guilty as hell, and there was nothing to be done about it. I had no idea what I’d say to any of them, when the decibel levels dropped enough to allow me to say anything at all.

A paramedic wrapped each of us in warm blankets, but since none of us had obvious bleeding wounds, that was the extent of our medical treatment. They gave us coffee, though, hot and strong out of a steel thermos. I was right. I did like coffee. Even black.

The helicopter, for pretty much the entire journey, was enveloped by low, dingy clouds, and updrafts and downdrafts battered us from side to side, up and down, until I felt as though the damn metal monster were a toy on a stretchy string. I don’t know how long we were in the air; constant heart-crushing panic made it seem like forever, but it couldn’t have been too long. When we dropped down below the clouds, right on top of a cleared landing area, I was weak-kneed with gratitude.

There were people waiting at the edge of the rotor backwash, holding their hats on if they had them. I didn’t recognize anyone. I was getting used to that, but it didn’t make me feel any more secure. My eyes skipped over them, looking for David, but he wasn’t there.

And then my eyes moved back, because while I didn’t recognize the tall black woman standing with her arms folded, staring at me, there was something familiar about her. She was striking. Her features were sharply patrician, her hair worn in a multitude of small braids, each one fastened by colorful beads. She wasn’t trying to hide; that was obvious. She was wearing neon yellow, even down to the long, polished fingernails.

She disdained coats.

And her eyes, even at the distance of fifteen feet, flashed with a color that didn’t look real, or human.

So, she was like David. A Djinn.

As we disembarked I poked Lewis in the side, avoiding his sore ribs, and nodded toward her. He looked a little less angry. “Rahel,” he said. “She’s-”

“Djinn,” I said. “Yeah, I figured that. Friend or foe?”

“Depends on her mood.”

“Wonderful.”

Lewis turned to face me, blocking my path. “Jo…be careful,” he said. “I wanted to keep you safe and out of the way until we were sure we understood what was going on. I can’t do that now.” He nodded toward the assembled people. “Most of them are Wardens. That doesn’t necessarily make them on your side,” he said. “That’s Paul; he’s a friend. When we get to the group, stick with him if I have to take off for any reason. Paul will look after you.”

I nodded. “Anyone else I can trust?”

“That’s Marion.” He nodded toward a woman in a wheelchair with long, gray-streaked blue-black hair worn in a thick braid. “I’d trust her with my life. In fact, I have. I’m going to hand Kevin off to her for-”

“No,” Kevin said flatly. His face was chalk-pale, but his eyes were angry. “No way. I’m not going anywhere.”

Lewis sighed. “You’re not in any shape to-”

“I’m not some baby,” Kevin said. “I’m not gonna drop dead because I find out it’s a cold, hard world out here. Fuck off, man. Nobody messes with my head. Especially not her.”

“Sure, big guy. Only if you can stand on your own,” Lewis said, and stepped away from him.

Kevin wavered, stumbled a little, glared, and stood on his own two feet.

Barely. But he managed.

“Well, guess you’re stuck with him now,” I murmured. Lewis snorted, with a sharp edge of annoyance. “Couple of things before this gets crazy. First: Have you ever seen a Demon?”

“Yes,” Lewis said. His eyes went distant and dark. “Why?”

“What should I be looking for?” And does it just automatically look like the person who’s seen it? Please tell me that’s the case.

“Usually they look like smears, dark shadows, but they can appear to be anything.”

“Human?” I hazarded.

He frowned. “Doubt it,” he said. “They can inhabit a human, but if they can assume a semblance, I’ve never heard of it. Why?”

I shrugged. Shrugs were fine things for avoiding issues. “Second thing: Do you think I can do what I did with Cherise-that memory thing-with other people?”

Lewis looked toward me sharply. “From them to you? I wouldn’t try it. What you did was…wrong, Jo. You shouldn’t have been able to, in the first place, and I’ve got no idea how it happened. Earth Warden skills take years of training, even for the basics. What you’re trying to do…no. I wouldn’t.”

We didn’t have time for anything else. The Wardens, tired of waiting for us to come to them, were heading our way.

I was about to meet the family, and I was pretty sure I wasn’t ready.

“Joanne’s okay,” Lewis said loudly. A preemptive strike that halted at least four of them who had opened their mouths to comment or ask questions. “She’s been through some trauma, and her memory’s a little shaky right now, but she’s going to be fine. So give her some room, guys.”

At least half of them looked irritated, and I wondered why. Maybe they hadn’t wanted me to be found at all, or if so, maybe they’d expected me to be up to full strength and ready to dive right in to pull my share of the load. Hard to tell.

The Djinn, Rahel, had moved closer, too, and now those eyes were just plain eerie. A hot, metallic gold, with flecks of brass. Predatory eyes. She slowly drummed her neon-colored talons along her folded arms, and I couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

Marion, in the wheelchair, was easier to read. She looked worried. And contemplative. And from the unfocused way she was examining me, she was doing that aetheric vision thing.

“Joanne,” she said. She was the first to smile at me. “It’s so good to see you safe.” She held out her hand, and I shot Lewis a nervous glance. He nodded, so I took it and shook. Her skin felt warm, her grip firm. Her dark eyes held mine steadily. “I see you’ve had some hard times, but so have we all. It’s good you’re back with us again. We can use your strength.”

It was, at the very least, a public endorsement. Probably more than I could reasonably ask for. “Thanks,” I said. I had the feeling that I might not have been a friend, but at least there was respect between us. Respect, I could return. The others standing around were regarding me with varying expressions of wariness or hope, neither of which made me feel any too secure.

Marion’s attention slid past me to focus on Kevin, and her expression changed to concern. “My God, Lewis, what happened to the boy? No, never mind. Not here. Let’s get him to the clinic.” Her eyes passed over Cherise, then came back, and she frowned, puzzled. She looked sharply at Lewis, an open question on her face, and he shook his head.

“Later,” he said.

She pressed controls and wheeled the chair in a tight circle, leading the way to a small parked caravan of plain black sedans and vans. I started to follow.

The guy Lewis had pointed out as Paul caught my arm in a big, square hand and dragged me to a stop. “Not so fast, babe,” he rumbled. He had an East Coast accent, maybe Jersey, if I had to guess. Olive-toned skin, dark hair with flecks of gray, dark stubble showing even though I was sure he’d freshly shaved. “No welcome for me?”

“Paul,” I said, and he hugged me. Full-body. “Um, hi.” I resisted an urge to struggle, because he seemed to want to hold on a little too long for comfort.

“Kid, I thought you were gone,” he murmured, lips close to my ear. “Don’t do that again, all right? You’ve given me plenty enough heart attacks already.” And then he pecked me on the cheek and backed away. The way he looked at me, I wondered…No, surely not. Surely I hadn’t slept with every guy I knew.

“I-I’ll try to be more careful,” I said. Awkward. I didn’t know where I stood with this guy-kissing-close, obviously, but not much else. He was a little intimidating up close, which was funny, since I’d been spending time with Lewis and David, guys who defined intimidating. I swallowed and forced a smile. “I need to go with…” I mimed following Lewis. Paul studied me for a second, brows pulling together in a frown, and let go.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I was hoping…Yeah. You probably should get yourself looked at, too. Call when you’re done, okay? We got to talk. Things to work out.”

I nodded, kept the smile going, and walked quickly after Lewis, who was helping Kevin and Cherise into the black cargo van, the one with the Handi-Lift on the back that was already lowering for Marion’s wheelchair.

I didn’t make it to join them. Another person stepped into my way, and I felt whatever nerves hadn’t already been alarmed wake up and start screaming.

“A moment,” Rahel said softly, holding up one graceful, long-taloned hand between us. She looked at me, close range, and yes, Djinn eyes were frightening. Her expression stayed blank and still, and I hesitated, wondering whether or not to yell for help. Her eyes flicked past me, focusing on the Wardens behind me, and she reached out and took hold of my shoulder. “A moment of your time, my friend. I have been so concerned for you.” She didn’t wait for agreement. She steered me sideways, away from the Wardens but also away from any potential rescue from Lewis. When I tried to pull back, her fingers dug deeper, and I hissed in pain. “Sistah, you come whether you like it or not,” she warned in a very low tone. “I have news for you, from David.”

The use of his name got me at least willing to listen. She kept hold of my shoulder, but loosened her grip so I wasn’t in danger of deep-tissue bruising.

“I don’t remember you,” I said. Seemed best to get it out of the way. “I’m sorry. It’s…this problem I have.”

“I’m well aware,” she said. No smile at all, and her tone was dry and cool. “You shouldn’t be here, Snow White. Not as you are, neither here nor there, living nor dead, human nor Warden. They think to bring you back. I think it is a foolish concept. It opens doors that are dangerous for us all.”

“Gee, thanks,” I said with no sincerity. “That’s the news?”

She snorted. “Opinion. At least you haven’t lost your sense of the absurd. David wishes me to tell you that he is on Ashan’s trail, and for you to stay with Lewis.” Rahel smiled. She had pointed teeth. I mean, seriously. Pointed. “You know what happens to little lambs who wander from their herd.”

I yanked myself free this time. “Hey, Creep Show, save it for the cheap seats. Aren’t you supposed to be on my side or something?”

She blinked, and I had the satisfaction of seeing a Djinn thrown just a half step off balance. It didn’t last. “I am,” she said. “As your kind is measured, you’re not insufferable, only infuriating. And…you loved the child. I count that in your favor.”

“Imara,” I said. “You’re talking about Imara, right?”

Her expression composed itself to instant formality, and she tilted her head. Beads clicked as the braids slithered over her shoulders with a sound like dry paper shifting. “Ashan was fortunate the Oracle took him before we could reach him. Had he been in my hands, he’d still be screaming.”

Which was supposed to be comforting or something.

“Great,” I said faintly.

That made Rahel look up again, sharply. “You don’t remember the child, either,” she said. “Do you?”

I started to lie about it, then shook my head. To my surprise, Rahel put her hand to my cheek in a gesture that was almost human. Almost affectionate.

“I can pity you for that. You will remember, though,” she said. “Such emptiness must be filled.”

And in a weird sort of way I suppose she did comfort me. A little. “Thanks,” I said. “I…Will you tell David I’ll be with Lewis?”

“I will.” She stepped back. “Ashan is lucky once again. David would have hunted him and ripped him into nothing by now, had he not been distracted by concern for you. It appears he needs Ashan alive and functioning to try to fix what was done to you.” A slow, cool smile revealed even, white teeth. Nonpointed. “After his usefulness comes to an end, well, maybe David will organize an entertainment. We haven’t had one of those for ages.” I was sure she meant it literally. The ages part, anyway. I shuddered to think what entertainment might mean.

“So David’s okay, then,” I said.

She shrugged. “David’s obsession with you puts his leadership of us in some doubt. But he remains the conduit to the Mother, and so may not be easily challenged. Still, he is not secure. His insistence on repairing what was done to you has been taken badly in some quarters.”

“Including your quarter?” I asked her, looking her right in the eerie eyes.

It was very quiet. I could hear the whine of the rotors powering down on the helicopter, the hiss of blowing snow, the engines starting in various SUVs around the landing area. I could hear my own heartbeat pounding fast.

“For my part,” Rahel finally said, “I should think the world less interesting without you, sistah. Take that as you wish.”

And she turned and walked away, misted into nothing, and was gone.

Wow. Not sure how I felt about her, but I couldn’t dislike her. Fear her, sure. Dislike her…no.

I hurried over to the black van, which was starting its engine, and piled into the back with Lewis, Kevin, Cherise, and Marion. Lewis slid the door shut with a solid thump, and whoever was driving-just a black silhouette against the dim gray sky-turned the van in a tight circle and headed out, bumping over uneven ground.

Marion let out a slow sigh. “That was about as civil as we might have expected,” she said. “Lewis, be careful. They’re going to pull you aside and talk politics.”

“Politics? We’ve got time for politics?”

“There’s always time for politics,” she said. “Something you never could grasp, I’m afraid.”

“What a load of bullshit. How’s the rehab?” He gestured at the wheelchair.

“You know that Earth Wardens are always slower to heal themselves, and besides, there haven’t been any shortage of victims to tend.” She shrugged. “I’ll be all right. Another month, maybe two. I’d have been walking already if I’d had the time to devote to it, but we’ve been a little busy. As you’ve probably heard.”

“Guessed,” Lewis said. “Between the remnants of the California fire, the earthquake in Kansas City, and the hurricane in North Carolina-”

“We’ve been stretched thin,” Marion agreed. “Not just here in the U.S., of course. Latin America’s having a hell of a time. Even Canada’s being pummeled. Europe’s an icebox, Africa’s an out-of-season swamp, Asia’s got all of the above, and Australia and New Zealand keep flipping from summer to winter from one day to the next.”

“Great. Anybody not having a climate shift?”

“Middle East,” she said. “But they have other problems. So. You going to explain to me what I’m looking at here?”

“What do you think you’re looking at?” Lewis asked.

Marion gave him a hard look. “Save the rhetorical method; I’m not in the mood. Him-that’s Demon damage, obviously. Fixable, but we need to get him to a clinic for treatment.”

“No such things as Demons,” Lewis said. Which confused me, until she smiled.

“Indeed not. And so we’re still telling people. So, you believe this one has hatched out? Is an adult?”

“Yes.”

“Any idea where it could be?”

“Back where we came from, most likely, but specifically? No.”

Marion shook her head and frowned absently at the rolling forest scenery beyond the van’s windows. “Not good. We don’t have a way to detect or track it.”

“What about Garson?” Lewis asked. “He’s the best at-”

“Garson’s dead,” she interrupted. “Killed by his own Djinn during the initial attack. Every adept we had who was capable of tracking or identifying Demons, or Demon Marks, is dead or incapacitated, except me. And believe me, I’m being damn careful.”

“Specifically targeted?”

“Well, it’s worse than our usual rotten luck,” Marion said. “You can’t detect them, can you?”

Lewis shook his head. “If I’d been able to, maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place,” he said. “I’d have smelled it on Star when she first came after me two years ago.”

Marion’s dark almond-shaped eyes narrowed. “Estrella? I never got the full story from you about that.”

“And you won’t now,” he said easily. “Old news. Let’s talk about what we’re going to do about this.”

“Well, the Djinn aren’t of any practical use anymore. A few might help us out, if they’re feeling generous and we’re feeling lucky. But I wouldn’t count on them.” She looked deeply troubled about that. “I never liked the servile system they operated under, but it’s going to take some time to get used to their freedom. Time for us, as well as them.”

“The Ma’at can help out with that,” Lewis said. “Their system is based on cooperation, not the coercion the Wardens used in dealing with the Djinn. I’ll get them in touch with you.” To me, he said, “Separate organization, the Ma’at. They’ve been working to create balance between Wardens, humans, and the world around us.”

“Trust me, it sounds more high-minded than it is in practice,” Marion said. She seemed annoyed. “I always meant to ask, are the Ma’at your creation? Because their manifesto has that just-out-of-school, disillusioned, fight-the-power feel to it, and only someone young could come up with something so idealistic. And base it in Las Vegas.”

Lewis shrugged. “Doesn’t matter who formed it, or how. What matters is that it works.”

“Sometimes,” she shot back. “Guess what? The Wardens work sometimes, too.”

“Less and less often. You have to admit that.”

The van reached a freeway, and the ride turned smooth as glass. The van rocked slightly in wind gusts, but for the most part we sped along so easily we might have been flying. I began to feel just a little safer. Safer? some part of me mocked. You think a little thing like distance is going to matter? When are you going to mention that the Demon looks like you?

Later, apparently.

“I’ll talk to them,” Marion was reluctantly saying. “It’s possible the Ma’at have Demon trackers. I’ll see what we can horse-trade for the privilege.”

“One other thing,” Lewis said. “I want you to check Joanne over thoroughly when we get to the clinic.”

Marion raised an eyebrow and glanced at me, as if she’d forgotten I was there, clinging to a handhold and swaying to the hiss of the van’s tires. “For?”

“Anything. Everything.” His face was closed and suddenly unreadable. “I found her in the forest, half-dead from the cold. Naked.”

“Naked,” Marion repeated. “Any injuries?”

“Nothing frostbite couldn’t explain.”

“You checked-”

“Of course I checked. But you’re better at that kind of thing.” He shrugged slightly, shoulders hunched. “Maybe I don’t know what to look for. Or I didn’t want to find it. I was under a little bit of pressure. And she’s displayed some…unusual effects.”

His voice was as dry as sand on that one, and I remembered David bouncing him like a basketball. Yeah, a little bit of pressure. And unusual effects didn’t much cover what I’d been able to do to bring Cherise back from the nearly dead.

“I’ll do a thorough scan,” Marion said. “Anything else?”

Lewis raised his head to lock eyes with me for a second, then said, “Yeah, actually. I’d like you to test her for the emergence of Earth abilities.”

“Thought you might,” Marion said, and leaned back in her wheelchair. Her smile was full and yet not very comforting. “I can feel some change in her latent abilities. One of you was bad enough. I have no idea what we’ll do with two of you.”

The clinic was a modest-sized place up a winding road in the hills, and I’d have frankly mistaken it for anything but a medical facility. It looked rustic, but industrial in its square shape. Couldn’t have been intended for long-term care, at least, not for many patients.

The faded, paint-chipped sign on the building said, WARDEN HEALTH INSTITUTE, EXTENSION 12. There were four cars in the small parking lot, and the van made it five as the still-unseen driver pulled in and parked under the whispering shade of a large pine. It was cold outside-my breath fogged on the window-but the overcast sky was breaking up, and the snow had stopped. I saw wisps of blue through the clouds.

“Need help?” Lewis asked Marion. She shook her head as the rear doors popped open, and the Handi-Lift’s operation was engaged to move her and the wheelchair safely out and down. The rest of us disembarked the old-fashioned way. The snow here was only a couple of inches deep, and melting fast on the parking lot’s warmth-hoarding surface. My face stung from the icy wind, and I thought wistfully about being warm again, really warm, but somehow the building that was ahead of us didn’t seem that inviting, centrally heated or not.

I glanced over at Kevin. He looked sullen and shaky. “It’ll be okay,” I said. He shot me a filthy look.

“Shut up, Pollyanna,” he said. “In my world, every time I let anybody else get me under lock and key, I get fucked.”

I shut up. Clearly, comforting people wasn’t my calling.

Once Marion’s chair was down and moving, Lewis was the one who made sure the path was clear and ice-free on the ramp. I didn’t even think about it, and Kevin obviously couldn’t have cared less about doing public service. Lewis held the door, too, as Marion’s chair powered inside, and kept holding it for me and Cherise, then Kevin.

So Lewis was the last one inside before the lock engaged behind us. I heard the metallic clank and turned, startled; so did Kevin, white-faced with fury. Lewis held up a calming hand. “Secured facility,” he said, and rapped the glass with his knuckles. “Bullet-resistant glass, too. Come on, Kevin, it’s not meant to keep you in; it’s meant to keep things out. Security’s still high in Warden facilities worldwide.”

Evidently, because there were two armed guards standing in the lobby, wearing cheap polyester blazers and expensive shoulder holsters. They didn’t look like they were in the mood to take crap from anyone, either, and all four of us got the instant laser stare. I expected Marion and Lewis to dig for credentials, but instead they held up their right hands, palm out. I blinked, then hesitantly did the same when even Kevin followed suit. I expected…Hell, I don’t know what I expected. Some kind of scanner ray? But I didn’t see anything, and nothing happened, and after the security guys’ gazes moved from one hand to the next, each in turn, they both nodded and stepped back, letting us have access to another closed door beyond.

They blocked Cherise. “Hey!” she protested, and looked beseechingly at Lewis. “I’m with them! Just ask!”

“Nobody but Wardens in the secured area,” one of the guards said.

Kevin was looking dangerously angry, but Lewis solved the whole thing by moving the guard back, taking Cherise’s hand, and saying, “She comes with us. No arguments.”

The guard looked at Marion, who shrugged. “Technically, he’s still the boss,” she said. “I’d make an exception.”

I blinked at Lewis. “You’re the boss?”

“Pretty much,” he said. “Long story. Believe me, I hate the job as much as they hate me having it. We’re working through succession planning.”

Lewis held the door open for me. Kevin had already stalked through it, following the low whine of Marion’s power chair. Cherise followed, glancing back at me with mute appeals to stay close. This door shut behind us, too. This time it was positively disquieting. I hung back, let Lewis go ahead of me, and pretended to need to adjust my shoe. While I was doing that, I leaned back and tried the doorknob.

It didn’t open.

Who’s being protected here? I wondered. And from what, exactly?

Lewis glanced back. I gave my sock another token pull and hurried to catch up.

It was a short, narrow hallway, and it had an antiseptic smell. Even if you have your past and memory damaged, you don’t forget that smell, and you can’t avoid its giving you a little unpleasant tingle somewhere in the back of your brain. Something was telling me to get the hell out, but I didn’t know if that was good instinct or bad. We passed three closed doors with plastic folder bins on the outside-none of them occupied, apparently, as there were no charts in the bins-and the hallway opened into a large, warm sitting area. The furniture looked industrial, but comfortable, and I sank gratefully down in a chair when Marion nodded at me. Someone in a lab coat came in from another entrance, head down, checking over something on a clipboard, and looked up to smile at Marion with an impartial welcome. “Ma’am,” he said, and extended his hand. He was a small man, neatly groomed, with ebony hair and eyes and a golden tint to his skin. “Dr. Lee. I wasn’t informed you were dropping in today.”

“Unscheduled visit,” she said. “Hope that isn’t a problem, Doctor. We have some urgent needs.”

“Not at all. We have a light caseload today-most of those who were injured during the fires have been rotated out to other facilities. We were strictly serving as triage here. I have two Wardens in critical condition who haven’t been moved, back in ICU-Leclerq and Minetti. You here to visit?”

“I’ll be happy to drop in,” she said. “Meanwhile, if you could have a look at the boy, I’d really appreciate your help.”

Dr. Lee turned his attention to Kevin, and those large, dark eyes widened. “I see,” he said in a much quieter voice. “Your name?”

“Kevin,” he snapped, but he directed it toward the carpet.

“Would you mind coming with me, Kevin?”

“Yes. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Marion sighed. “I see the boy hasn’t changed. Kevin, no one is going to harm you. I swear it.”

He glared at her. “No drugs.”

“Don’t worry. We wouldn’t waste them on you.”

Kevin shot Lewis an utterly mistrustful look, then made it a group thing, because it was the same look he gave Marion, then me. Me, he seemed to trust least of all.

“Can I go with him?” Cherise asked in a small voice. She’d slipped her hand in his. “Please?”

“I don’t see why not,” Dr. Lee said. “We’ll see about getting you food as well. And some fresh clothing.”

I don’t know if Kevin would have gone on his own, but Cherise’s presence gave him an excuse to conform. He took her hand and followed Dr. Lee through the door and into what I presumed was a treatment area.

Leaving me with Lewis and Marion, who weren’t saying much.

“Well?” I asked. “What now?”

“Now,” Marion said, “we see if we can determine the extent of your damage.”

“Here?”

“Here’s fine. I don’t need you to wear a funny open-back dress for this.”

Lewis walked away. I stared at Marion for a few seconds, frowning, and then nodded. “All right. What do you need me to do?”

“Relax and let me drive,” she said. “Eyes closed. I want you to focus on a sound.”

“What sound?” I closed my eyes and immediately felt drowned by darkness. I fought the urge to open them again.

“This one.”

For a brief second I didn’t hear anything, but then I did, a low musical tone, steady and unchanging. Like the sound a deep-note chime makes. A sustained ringing.

“Do you hear it?” Marion asked. Her voice was soft and slow, blending with the sound of the chime. I nodded. “Concentrate on the sound. Only on the sound.”

It got louder, and the more I focused, the purer it seemed. It made me imagine things…a bright crystal, turning and reflecting rainbows. A flower slowly unfurling its petals. A chair rocking on a porch on a fresh, cool morning.

I could feel something moving through my body like a warm wave, but it wasn’t alarming, and somehow I wasn’t afraid of it. The sound compelled me to stay quiet, stay still, suspended in time…

“Hey,” said a new voice. I opened my eyes, or some part of me did; I could tell that my actual, physical eyes were still closed tight.

But part of me was somewhere else entirely. In another reality.

“Hey,” I replied blankly. I felt like I should know the man who was sitting across from me-there was definitely something familiar about him. Tall, lean, athletic; a little bit like Lewis, but more compact and certainly just as dangerous, if not more so. A graying brush of light brown hair cut aggressively short. A face that seemed harsh one moment, and amused the next. When he smiled, it seemed kind, but also mocking.

“You don’t know me,” he said. “My name’s Jonathan.”

“Um…hi?” It felt like the real world, but somehow, I knew it wasn’t. Illusion, most definitely. So what was this guy? He smiled even wider, not giving me a clue.

“We don’t have a lot of time for this little drop-in, so I’m going to be brief. You just acquired some skills that you’re not ready for. Wasn’t my choice, but hey, done is done.” He shrugged. “You’re going to need them, no doubt about that, but your adjustment’s going to be a little rocky. Just thought somebody should warn you.”

“Who are you?”

He laughed. Chuckled, really. “Used to be a lot of things. Human, then Djinn. Now-well, there’s not really a word for what I am. But there’s a word for what you are, kid. Trouble.”

This made no sense. It had to be a dream. I was sitting on a couch in a living room-stone fireplace, clean lines, masculine furniture. Warm throw rugs on the wood floor. A big picture window overlooking a field of nodding yellow sunflowers in full bloom, which was wrong, wasn’t it? It should have been fall at least, or full winter. But here…here, it was summer. Bright, cloudless summer.

“Stay with me, Joanne. I’m going to bounce you back in a second, but first I had to tell you something.”

“What?” I asked.

“What’s happening to you has never happened before. Never. That’s a big word, in my world-it was big enough to make a whole lot of forces pay attention. David’s right to look for Ashan, but you’re going to have to do your part, too. If you screw this thing up, I can’t help you. Nobody can.”

“Could you be a little less vague?”

“Yeah,” he said. He leaned back on the leather sofa to take a pull on the beer in his hand. Cold, frosty beer. It made me thirsty, and I didn’t even know if I liked beer. “Do not, under any circumstances, think about throwing your life away. If you die-if you let her kill you-you have no idea what kind of hell will come calling.”

“So that’s your big message? Stay alive?” I felt like pounding my head against the wall, only I wasn’t sure the wall was real enough. “Great. Great advice.”

“Hey, don’t blame me. Most people wouldn’t have to be told, but you? You seem to want to martyr up when you lose a quarter in the soda machine.”

I didn’t know Jonathan, but I wasn’t liking him much. “Funny.”

“Not really, because it’s true. My job is to take the long view, kid. And right now, the long view is that you need to be selfish and stay alive. Got it?”

I didn’t, and he could see it. He shook his head, tipped the bottle up and drained it dry.

“Crap, you really are always a pain in my ass, Joanne. Not to mention the fact that if you keep on dragging David down, he’s going to lose everything, up to and including his life,” he said. “You see that, right?”

“I-what? No! I’m not-” But I was. Lewis had said as much. Even David had hinted around at it. Which of course made me defensive. “David’s free to do whatever he needs to do. I’m not stopping him. I never asked for any of this!”

Jonathan looked amused. Impatient, but amused. “Don’t whine to me about it. I have nothing to do with it, not anymore. I’m just here to tell you to use your head for once.”

Which had the effect of completely pissing me off, even though I was pretty sure he was supernatural, powerful, and could crush me like a bug if he wanted. And besides, hadn’t David said he was dead? I was pretty sure.

So of course I blurted out, “Great. You told me. If you don’t have anything better than that to offer, butt the hell out!”

Jonathan’s dark eyes met mine, and they weren’t human eyes. Not at all. Not even close. I was pretty sure that even the Djinn would flinch from that stare; it froze me like liquid nitrogen, held me utterly still. There was something vast and chilly behind it, only remotely concerned with me and my problems.

“I will,” he said. “Too bad. If you’d been a little bit more on the ball, you could have avoided all the heartbreak that’s coming.”

And then he opened his hand, dropped his bottle to the floor, and it shattered. The noise became a tone, a steady, ringing tone that grew in my ears until it was a shriek, and I jackknifed forward in my chair, hands pressed to my ears…

And then I was in the waiting room of the Wardens Health Institute Extension 12, gasping for breath, and there was no sound at all.

Until Marion put her wheelchair in gear and backed up a couple of feet. Fast. I looked up. She was staring at me, and her expression was distraught. “Oh,” she said faintly. “I see. I think I understand.”

“Understand what?” Something inside my head hurt, badly. I clenched my teeth against the pain and pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to massage it out. “What did you do to me? Who was that?”

She avoided that by simply wheeling the chair around and leaving me. I tried to get up, but I felt unexpectedly weak and strange.

A blanket settled warm over me. Lewis, my hero. “Stay there,” he said, and pressed a hand on my shoulder for a second before going after Marion. They talked in low tones on the far side of the room, careful to keep it under my radar. I didn’t really care at the moment. Pain has a way of making you selfish that way, and this headache was a killer.

When they came back, Lewis looked as grim and strained as Marion. Which surely couldn’t be a good thing. He stopped, but Marion continued forward, almost within touching range, and her dark almond-shaped eyes assessed me with ruthless purpose.

“How long have you had Earth powers?” she asked. I blinked.

“I don’t know what you-”

“Don’t,” she interrupted. “When did you first feel them emerge? Be specific.”

“I can’t! I don’t know! Look, I barely understand any of this, and-”

She reached out and put her hand on my head, and this time it wasn’t a gentle, healing touch. It was a fast, brutal search, like someone rifling through my head, and I automatically slammed the door on it.

Whatever I did, it knocked her back in her chair, gasping.

“She’s strong,” Marion said to Lewis. “But this didn’t come naturally. Somebody put it in her.”

“I figured that. Who? How?”

“I don’t know.” Marion visibly steeled herself. “I’ll try to find out.” They were both acting like I wasn’t even there. Like I didn’t have any choice in the matter.

This time, when she reached out for me, I caught her wrist. “Hey,” I said. “At least buy me dinner first. I don’t even know you.”

“Lewis, hold her.”

“No!” I shot to my feet, but Lewis was moving to block me, and he was bigger than I was, and stronger in a whole lot of ways. His hands closed over my shoulders and forced me back into the chair, and then touched my forehead. I felt an irresistible drag of sleep. “No, I’m not…You can’t do this…I…Lewis, stop!”

But he didn’t, and Marion didn’t, either.

And out of sheer desperation, something came alive inside of me and struck, sinking deep inside of Marion’s mind, and then I couldn’t control it as the world exploded into the map of points of light, beauty, order.

I couldn’t help it at all. It was sheer, bloody instinct.

I began to greedily grab for memories.