significant and near-fatal attack. As if that was just par for the course, an everyday hazard of
going to the store.
''Yes,'' I said, when I was able to speak around the chuckles. ''Oh, absolutely. Shopping
tomorrow. But maybe we should try to pick someplace easier on bystanders. ''
He nodded soberly. ''Internet.''
''Internet.''
''I hear there's pornography on the Internet.''
''Filthy pervert.''
His eyebrows quirked, then settled into a severe line. ''I take exception. I'm quite clean,
actually.''
''Too bad. I like a scruffy man.''
''I can be scruffy.'' His tone changed. ''Pull over.''
''What?''
''Pull over now.''
Oh. Not part of the banter, then. I looked in the rearview mirror but saw nothing out of the
ordinary. Still, David wasn't exactly one to overreact. I took the next left and found a shopping
center parking space, right between a nail salon and a Spanish-language video rental store.
''What is it?''
''We're being followed,'' David said.
''I didn't see-''
''By a Djinn.'' He was already opening his door. ''Stay here.''
''David! No, you can't-'' I was having flashbacks to the horrible scene in my apartment, David
on his knees and helpless at the hands of his fellow Djinn. I didn't trust any of them now,
certainly not any of them who felt compelled to follow us in secret.
''I have to.'' No point in arguing, because I'd be arguing with the rain; he was already gone, and
even though I hurriedly scrambled out after, I saw no trace of him.
And then I did, in the deep shadows at the side of the building. David was in conversation with a
very tall man-Djinn-with hair too long to stand up in the nearly pompadour style he was
wearing. Thin, intense, and entirely unfamiliar to me. He was wearing retro clothes, circa the
mid-1950s, but he didn't seem at all Father Knows Best to me; he radiated an unfocused kind of
don't-mess-with-me menace.
The Djinn's gaze fixed on me, and I saw his eyes flare into a bright crimson. He bent his head
and said something else to David, and blew apart into mist and was gone.
David came back in no particular hurry, hands in his pants pockets, lost in thought.
We both got back into the car at the same time, and I dried us off, a flick of power that felt
satisfyingly productive for a change. He hardly noticed.
''Who was that?'' I asked. David stirred, glanced at me, and looked surprised.
''Roy,'' he said.
''Who's Roy?''
''One of mine,'' he said. ''You don't need to have him over for drinks. He's not polite company.
In fact, I'd rather you never met him. But he's very useful for some things.''
''Such as?''
''Such as keeping an eye on Kevin and Rahel.'' He cocked an eyebrow at my expression. ''You
didn't seriously think I would let them do this without some kind of backup plan?''
Oh. Actually, I'd thought Rahel was the backup plan, but I could see his point. ''So what did
Roy have to say?''
''Kevin was taken from his apartment a half hour ago, along with Rahel disguised as Cherise. It
was efficient. He fought, but he was contained with a minimum of effort.''
If you knew Kevin, this was ominously impressive. ''Sentinels?''
''I can't think of anyone else with the strength and the motivation,'' David said. ''The thing is,
they did this while they were hitting us. Which implies-''
''A whole lot of organization,'' I finished. ''Not to mention power to burn.''
We looked at each other for a long moment, and I finally started up the car again. ''It's too late
to change our minds, isn't it?''
''I'm afraid so. The game's in motion now, and we have to follow the play. I dispatched Roy to
follow at a safe distance; he should report back when Kevin and Cherise reach a final
destination. I don't think they'll be taken far.''
''Meanwhile?''
He reached out and traced his thumb over my lips. ''Meanwhile, we should find a place to stay
that's far from innocent bystanders, and be prepared for another attack. Any ideas?''
''Yep.'' I put the Mustang in gear and pulled out of the parking lot, merging with the rain and
traffic. ''But you're not going to like it.''
I'd been right, and wrong. David wasn't wild about the beach house-which belonged to the
Wardens, and was normally used to host visiting dignitaries– because it was long on ocean
views and short on actual security. He also wasn't crazy about staying in a location where most
of the Wardens would guess we'd go, but I wanted to continue to provide some kind of attractive
target for the Sentinels. Anything to give Kevin time.
At least here, the beach was private, we were nowhere close to neighbors, and if the Sentinels
decided to lower the boom on us, they'd do a minimum of collateral damage.
The rain stopped about the time I pulled up in the private drive, opened the massive metal gates
with a pulse of Fire Warden power, and drove inside. The entrance was heavily landscaped,
mainly with palms and leafy bushes to conceal the grounds from prying eyes. It looked like the
sort of place a midlevel, once-all-powerful Hollywood player would stay to get away from it all.
I made sure the gates shut behind us, and followed the winding narrow road around the curves
until the white beach house emerged at the end. It was a neat little bungalow, big enough for a
few people to stay out of each other's way, but not a place for massive entertainments unless you
wanted to get full-body contact. I'd last been here back in my former boss Bad Bob
Biringanine's time; he'd used it to house visitors to the Florida territory, and it was, in fact, the
very place he'd performed his historic act of heroism in shaving vital strength out of Hurricane
Andrew. If he hadn't, I doubted most of the state would have survived its landfall.
I hadn't thought of Bad Bob in a long time, but it seemed like his ghost walked over my grave at
that moment; I almost felt his presence, strong and astringent, charming and bad tempered.
Corrupt, but hiding it well. Of all the things I couldn't forgive Bad Bob for-and one of them
had led to massive damages, once upon a time-I thought the worst was that he'd known what
Kevin's stepmother was, what kind of perversions she enjoyed, and he'd allowed her to continue.
Worst of all, he'd given her David to play with as her own personal sex toy.
David sat in silence, looking at the beach house. If I hadn't known him so well, I'd have thought
he had no reaction at all. I reached over and took his hand, and his gaze shifted toward mine.
''I know,'' I said. ''I'm sorry, it's the best place.
All right?''
''I'm fine,'' he said. He wasn't, but he also wasn't ready to let me see that wound. He was all
courtesy, opening my car door for me, handing me out, walking me up the steps to the front
door. ''Keys?''
It didn't need one. I extended my hand, the one with the Warden symbol invisibly etched into the
skin, and heard the lock click over. I opened the door, and the smell of the place washed over
me, bringing with it another rush of memories as I stepped inside. Bad Bob hadn't been gone
long enough for his imprint to completely fade from this place; I swore I smelled the ghost of his
cigar smoke, before the more powerful odor of musty carpeting and furniture took over. The
house needed a full-scale cleaning. Something to keep me busy, I supposed.
David hadn't followed me inside. I turned toward him and saw that he'd put out a palm, which