distribution center . . . I grabbed a pad of paper, threw away the lists of florists I'd compiled, and
began to frantically scribble down anyone I could think of who might have touched the package
during the shipping process. They all needed to be examined and treated.
I was only halfway through the list when the phone rang, and I grabbed the extension sitting next
to the pad. ''Lewis?'' It was. ''Get a disposal team over here, right now. There's a package
outside my door. I think it's the same stuff as in the office building. Antimatter. David can't see
the package at all. Get a team on tracing the package back through the system. People who came
in contact with this thing-''
''Got it,'' he said. ''Look after yourself. Get the hell out of there.''
''I don't want to go near it, and I'd have to if I leave by the door. I'll have to climb down-'' I
didn't feel up to the acrobatics, not at the moment.
I didn't need to. David came out of thin air, moving fast. He picked me up, out of the chair,
stepped up on the balcony railing, and off into open space without a second of hesitation. I didn't
even have time to gasp before his feet hit the ground, and then he was carrying me across the
parking lot at breakneck speed. He dumped me in the passenger seat of my car, took the driver's
seat, and started it up with a touch of his finger to the ignition.
''David-''
He wasn't listening. His eyes were focused and distant. He had a mission, and that mission was
to get me out of danger. I didn't have anything to say about it.
I realized I was still holding the phone. Lewis's voice was a faint buzz on the other end. ''Right,
I'm out of the apartment,'' I said to him. ''And we're about to lose the connection. Hurry up
with the disposal team. I don't want that thing lying around where anybody can pick it up. My
God, Lewis, there are people here. Innocent people!''
David put the Mustang in gear, and we screeched out of the parking place, cornered hard, and
accelerated out of the apartment complex and onto the street.
The phone went dead, of course. I tossed it in the backseat and rested my head against the
cushions as David put the Mustang through its paces, driving way too fast for a human's
reactions. He must have screened us out of other people's perceptions, because we blew past a
police squad car doing about 120, and there was no reaction at all from the two protecting and
serving in the front seat.
''I thought you didn't believe in this stuff,'' I said to David. ''You're acting like you do.''
''I'm trusting you,'' he said. ''If you say it's there, and you say it made you sick, I'm not taking
chances. But Jo-I can't see it. I can't sense it. It's just not there.''
''Look, there are things that exist that are invisible to humans-''
''But not to Djinn,'' he interrupted. ''Nothing is invisible to Djinn. Nothing that belongs on this
earth.''
This was kind of the point. He must have realized it, too. He was quiet for a moment, and when I
looked over, I saw that his eyes had taken on a fierce orange color, like the heart of a fire.
''This isn't something being done by the Djinn,'' he said. ''Not mine, and not Ashan's. Whether
I personally believe in it or not is beside the point. If an enemy is sending these things to you,
personally, it's someone human. Someone who wishes you harm.''
No kidding. I remembered the angry phone call. ''Maybe it's a Demon,'' I said. ''They seem to
like to drop in for regular visits.''
''Not funny, Jo.''
''Yeah, not from this side, either. Do you think it is? A Demon?''
He seemed to consider it seriously. ''Demons aren't so . . . strategic in their approach. Their
goals are simple and straightforward-consume, kill, escape. Whatever this is, there's no sense
to what you described before. The dead creature-''
''Djinn, David. He was Djinn. We're sure.''
He let that pass, but I could tell he was far from convinced. ''And the black thing inside him.
Who would do such a thing? Why?''
''Maybe,'' I said slowly, ''it was a test.''
''A test of what?''
''Of the Djinn,'' I said. ''A test that you failed.''
He took his gaze away from the road, which was eerie and alarming, though I knew he didn't
need to be staring straight ahead to drive. ''Failed how?''
''Failed to sense the danger. Look, that was a Djinn we found-''
''It wasn't.''
''Argument's sake, if it was, why can't you admit it? It's as if you just can't bring yourself to-
''
''There's nothing to admit!'' he said, and I heard the unmistakable vibration of anger underneath
the words. ''I would know if a Djinn had died!''
''Except you don't, and one did,'' I said, and closed my eyes. ''So what does that mean?''
''It means-'' David took in a deep breath, and I could see him struggle to get his temper under
control. ''It doesn't mean anything. Because all this is an illusion, Jo. Just an illusion. There's no
dead Djinn; there's no such thing as your antimatter.''
Whoa. The blind spot the Djinn had was big enough to swallow the sun, and it was starting to
really scare me. And there didn't seem to be any point at all to trying to debate it, because he
simply wasn't going to listen.
I turned face forward as he steered the Mustang through traffic at speeds that would have made
NASCAR drivers weep and flinch. ''Glad we got that all straightened out.''
Sarcasm was wasted on him, right at the moment. He sent me a heartbreaking smile of relief, and
I realized he actually thought we had straightened it out.
Oh dear God.
We finished the drive in silence. Once the traffic cleared, David pulled off the road at a
beachfront area, one loaded up with pleasure-seeking, bikini-wearing sunbathers, all one tequila
short of a Girls Gone Wild video. He turned off the engine, and we sat for a while watching the
waves crash and roll, and the tanners sizzle and flirt.
''I need my cell phone,'' I said. David . . . flickered. Like a bad signal, or a hologram. And then
he reached in his coat pocket and handed over my cell phone, which I knew perfectly well I'd
left back on the table in the apartment. ''Hey. Don't do that, okay?''
He looked puzzled. ''Don't do what?''
''Don't go back there. Promise me.''
''Why?''
I swear, when I closed my eyes, I saw red. I counted to ten, deliberately, and tried to pry my
fingernails out of my palms. ''Because even if you don't believe it's there, that stuff is toxic to
me, and it could be fatal to you. All right?''
He shook his head. ''There's no danger. If there was, I'd know.''
Which was just crazy. But he earnestly seemed to think he was telling me the truth.
I took the cell phone and called Lewis. ''Where are you?''
''Just got here,'' he said. I heard his breath huffing; he and what sounded like an elephant herd
of people were jogging up the stairs. ''Okay, I see it. Box in front of the door.''
''That's it,'' I said. ''Be careful.''
''I'm not going anywhere near it, trust me. We're using a bomb robot.''
''We've got bomb robots now? Cool.''
''It's on loan from Homeland Security,'' Lewis said. ''They're not going to like it if I get it
blown up, though. I'll call you back.''
Homeland Security was loaning us gear? Wow. When had we actually come up in the world like
that? Apparently, while I'd been unconscious in a hospital bed for something or other, or on the
run. I wasn't sure if I liked it. Part of the reason the Wardens had existed for so long in secrecy