after that, it can't be done.
But I was going to have a hell of a lot of fence-mending to do. And I felt filthy inside, as if I'd
dragged my soul through a sewer.
Lewis took my hand, out of sight behind the podium, and squeezed. He knew what I was feeling.
I moved back to let him get to the microphone, and he said something to close the meeting. . . . I
wasn't really listening. I was staring at the smoking, destroyed doorway where Kevin had made
his grand exit.
God, please, watch out for him, I thought. If anything happens to him . . .
Lewis must have finished, because in the next moment people were getting up in the auditorium,
chattering excitedly, making their way toward the exits. And Lewis put his hand at the small of
my back, guiding me off into the shadows at the back of the stage, where he whispered, ''I think
it was all right.''
''Brutal,'' I said. My voice sounded strange. ''I didn't want to put him through that.''
''He signed up, Jo. It's something he wants to do. Let him be a hero for once.''
''Yeah, well, it's hard to just stand by and watch.''
''No kidding,'' he said, and smiled a narrow, bitter smile. ''How the hell do you think the rest of
us feel about watching you?''
I got a lot of ''That was uncalled for!'' supportive comments on the way out, but not quite as
many as I'd expected; the majority of Wardens seemed to want to stay out of the line of fire.
Couldn't really blame them for that; most of them had reason to be gun-shy.
What bothered me was the significant number who seemed to be huddled together whispering in
the halls, who fell silent when I came near. I felt stares on me all the time. A few nodded, but it
didn't feel like support. None of them were my friends, and most of them were people I knew
only by reputation. Were they Sentinels? Potential recruits? No way I could tell, but it made the
back of my neck itch.
Lewis escorted me to the elevators, staying protectively close. We'd agreed that David should
stay away for this part; it would have been harder with him in the room. So Lewis was taking his
bodyguarding duties seriously, even in the relatively secure confines of the Warden's own halls.
''You really think somebody's going to try to take me out here, with all these Wardens around?''
I asked, as we waited for the elevator to arrive. He had his hand on my arm, and he didn't smile.
''Let's just say I'm not counting on anything right now. Where's David meeting you?''
''Downstairs in the parking garage.'' I shook free of Lewis's grip. ''Honestly, back off, would
you? I'm not glass, and I can take care of myself. I'd have thought I'd proven it by now. I'm a
big girl. I can ride the elevator all by myself.''
I could tell he was just itching to go all macho and protective on me again, but he managed to
hold himself back, raising both hands in surrender and stepping away. ''Fine. Just don't come
crying to me if you end up dead. Again.''
The elevator's arrival saved me from having to make a snappy reply. I got in, a few other
Wardens crowded after, and I saw Lewis make a visible effort to stay where he was. I'll be fine, I
mouthed as the door slid closed.
I wished I were as confident as I appeared to be.
Still, nobody tried to kill me on the way down, although a few unfriendly looks were thrown my
way by one or two of my fellow vertical travelers. One made up for it by delivering a cordial
congratulations on the upcoming wedding, although he politely called it a ''celebration,'' as if he
wasn't quite sure of the legality of the whole event. Well, neither was I, actually.
We made a couple of stops, including one at the lobby level, where half the passengers
disembarked.
Next stop was the secured parking area, and as the doors opened, I was relieved to see the
familiar form of David leaning against a support pillar, looking deceptively casual. He was
wearing his full-on normal guy disguise-jeans, checked shirt, slightly mussed hair. Glasses to
distract from his eyes, although at the moment they were solidly unremarkable. And the coat, of
course. He hardly ever showed up without the coat, even in the humidly close heat of late
summer in New York City.
''You know, you're going to have to start learning how to dress for the seasons,'' I said without
preamble, taking his offered arm as we headed for the car. ''No more of this one-outfit-fits-all
thing.''
He smiled. ''Are you threatening to take me shopping again?''
''Threatening? No. It's an absolute certainty. Besides, we're supposed to stay public, aren't we?
Present a distraction?''
''Shopping is a distraction?''
''It is the way I do it,'' I said. ''By the way-what's my new last name?''
''Excuse me?''
''Well, I'd like to know how I'll be signing checks in the future. Mrs. Joanne . . . ?''
''What's wrong with Baldwin?''
''Nothing. In fact, I may hang on to it, but if you're planning to do the normal-life thing, you
need to have an identity other than David, King of All Djinn.''
He shot me one of those amused half smiles. ''Seriously, King of All Djinn? That's funny.''
''Answer the question. What's your last name?''
''Whatever you want it to be.''
I remembered that he'd used a credit card at a hotel early on in our relationship. ''What about
David Prince?''
He sighed. ''If you like.''
''You don't?''
''Jo, I don't care. Even when I was actually built to care about those kinds of things, I didn't
have a family name. It was always David, son of-'' He stopped, and something indefinable
flashed across his expression. I waited. ''Son of Cyrus.''
''Cyrus? Your father's name was Cyrus?''
''It was a very honored name at the time.''
''Then your name ought to be David Cyrus.''
He looked thoughtful. There was something going on behind his eyes, something I couldn't
guess and probably had no context to understand even if I could. He'd never mentioned his
human father, or his human mother, or anything about that period of his life before it had come
to a cataclysmic end on a battlefield, with thousands of men pouring out their life energy. His
best friend, Jonathan, had been like Lewis, a Warden with all three powers, and deeply beloved
of Mother Earth; David hadn't been able to let go when Jonathan had passed over and been
reborn as a Djinn. David had been reborn as well.
I wondered how much real memory he had of those early, fragile years of his human life. Of his
birth parents, before that rebirth. He'd seemed surprised that he'd remembered his father's name
. . . and seemed affected by it, too.
At length, as we passed rows of parked cars, David said, ''Cyrus sounds . . . fine.''
We arrived at the parked, sleek form of the Mustang, which was in perfect, gleaming condition,
for having had its windows blown out less than a day before. David opened the passenger door
and gracefully handed me in, like a princess into a carriage. He shut the door and headed around
to the driver's side, and we didn't speak again until we'd exited the garage and were already on
the road, heading for the bridge.
''You haven't said how it went,'' he said.
''It was harder than I'd thought,'' I confessed. ''Not the we're-getting-married part. The Kevin
part.''
David nodded. ''I was concerned about that. He's . . . fragile, in some ways. And he has good
reason for a lot of his anger. Putting him in this kind of position is a risk, at best.''
''He said-David, he said that his mother used Djinn against him.'' I couldn't even really bring