was the local news crews, two different species by the plumage of their satellite trucks. The
reporters had a certain sleek, predatory look to them that identified them clearly from the
casually dressed videographers and sloppy, Earth-shoe-wearing boom guys.
I watched them approach as I was giving my story to the police, and it was like a flock of
vultures circling, waiting for my last breath.
''Ma'am?''
I blinked. The police officer facing me was tall, beefy, ginger-haired, and excruciatingly polite.
Despite that, he wasn't the kind to take any crap, and I heard the warning in his oh-so-polite
question.
''Sorry, sir. I was just coming out of the diner with my-my fiance, and we saw this gentleman
get out of his van. He looked like he was in some trouble. I think he might have been having
some kind of seizure.''
''Seizure,'' the cop said, and noted it down. ''Uhhuh. Was his shirt like that when he got out?''
Oh. The burns. ''I didn't notice right away. I didn't see him with a cigarette or anything,'' I said,
which was the absolute truth. ''Is it important?''
''Probably not. He damn sure didn't burn to death. So, you didn't know him, ma'am?''
I was lucky that nobody appeared to have noticed our little confrontation in the parking lot-then
again, it probably wasn't luck so much as David, taking care of business. Everybody
remembered me and David inside the diner, but nobody appeared to have been paying attention
when we left and went out to the car. The glamour had held until the windows blew out.
''No, I didn't know him,'' I said. It was my first real lie, and I had to make sure he bought it. I
tried not to hold myself too still or keep his gaze too long. A good Earth Warden could have
exerted some mental pressure to make him overlook anything that tripped his suspicions, but I'd
never been that good, and I wasn't about to try something like that at my current level of
emotional trauma. ''Sorry. I think he didn't really know what was going on. Maybe he was high .
. . ?'' Slandering the dead, Joanne. Good one. I felt an uncomfortable roll of guilt, but then again,
Antonelli had been willing to abduct and murder me. A little slander might have been
appropriate.
''Where's your boyfriend?'' the cop asked.
''Fiance,'' I automatically corrected him, and smiled nervously. ''I think he went to the
bathroom. It was– this was awful. Really awful.''
The cop nodded, probably thinking of all the much more awful things he'd no doubt seen in his
career. Probably thinking I was a lightweight ditz. That was fine, because in some senses I was,
and besides, I didn't want him to take me too seriously. That would be a very bad thing.
''Okay,'' he said. ''If you'll wait over there, Ms. Baldwin, it'll be a little while. You said you
were on your way to New York?''
''Yes,'' I said. ''I have a business meeting. Look, can I call-?''
''Sure,'' he said. ''Just don't go anywhere.''
I walked away, not in the direction of the reporters, and headed for the pay phone. How long had
it been since I'd had to use a public phone? Years. I missed my crispy-fried cell phone,
especially when I saw the grime and dried spit on the telephone receiver. You're an Earth
Warden, I reminded myself. You laugh at public phone germs.
Still, I fished a tissue out of my purse and wiped the plastic down before I started dialing.
Lewis answered on the third ring. ''Somebody tried to kill me,'' I said. ''No, don't interrupt, and
don't joke. It was Lee Antonelli. I had things under control, but somebody took him out at a
distance. He said something about the Sentinels putting out a contract on my life.''
There was a silence on the other end that stretched on for longer than I would have liked.
''How'd they kill him?'' Lewis asked.
''Some kind of aetheric attack, nothing I've ever seen before. Lewis, they just reached out and
destroyed him. What the hell is going on?''
''Just get here,'' he said. ''The faster the better.'' He hesitated for a second, and then his voice
softened. ''You okay?''
''Yeah. No damage.''
''That's not what I meant.''
''You mean, am I okay with the concept that somebody's capable of hiring marginally loyal
Wardens as hit men to take me out, and killing them if they fail? No, not really.''
I went cold inside when Lewis said, ''If it makes you feel better, you're not the only target.''
''You?''
''Among others.'' He didn't elaborate, and I didn't think it was a good time to ask. ''Watch your
back. If they can kill Antonelli from a distance-''
''I've got David,'' I said. ''And we'll both be watching for it now. You be careful.''
''Always. Call when you get back on the road.''
''Can't. Cell phone had a fatal issue during the fight.''
''Get David to fix it,'' Lewis said. ''I don't want you out of contact for a second.''
And that was it. Sentimental, it wasn't, but then we understood each other too well for that most
of the time. Not that we couldn't be friends, but business was business, and staying alive was
serious business these days. I'd fought beside him, and he knew that when the situation got dire,
I'd be there.
Still. A little verbal hug might have been . . . nice. I replaced the receiver, listened to the machine
swallow my quarter deeper into its gear guts, and peered around the corner of the scratched
plastic bubble. The reporters were still there, trying to solicit comments from uncooperative
cops. They were also talking to diner patrons. I hoped nobody had any creative explanations that
involved magic.
David came out of the diner, hands in the pockets of his long olive-drab coat. He didn't look
happy. Wind caught the tail of the coat as he strode toward me, giving him an almost princely
magnificence, but I doubted anybody but me noticed except for some of the waitresses, who
were still acutely David-oriented.
''I didn't find anything,'' he said as he reached me.
''Are you all right?'' He knew I wasn't. It was a pro forma question, but I especially liked that it
was accompanied by a gentle brush of his fingertips along the line of my cheek.
''Fine,'' I said. He held my gaze.
''Really?''
''No.'' I gave him a very small smile that felt crooked and unsteady on my lips. ''That was-
unpleasant.''
''I know,'' he said, and looked down at my hands. They were clean-the cops had allowed me to
wash up-but I still felt the psychic imprint of blood on them. ''It could just as easily have been
you.''
''Maybe,'' I said. ''I don't think so, though. There was something that made him vulnerable to
them, maybe a link they'd created to keep track of him through the aetheric. It pushed us out of
the way and went straight for him. If they'd been able to take me out the same way, don't you
think they would have done it?''
I couldn't tell if it had occurred to him or not; David was being extraordinarily secretive at the
moment. He gazed at me for a couple of seconds, then turned his attention to the reporters. ''We
should get out of here,'' he said.
''Do you know who was behind it?'' I asked.
''If I did, would I tell you right now?'' he asked, all too reasonably. ''But I think you already
know.''
''If we can believe Lee, it was the Sentinels,'' I said. ''How come I'm on their hit list when I
barely know their oh-so-pretentious name?''
''Because of me,'' he said. ''Let's get out of here. I'd like it if you were a less stationary target.''