floor, something like what Heather the scientist had used to carry her radioactive materials when
she'd done her show-and-tell at Warden HQ. ''Stop it, you two. You're making me all teary-
eyed. Next thing you know we'll all be group-hugging and braiding each others' hair.''
Nothing seemed very real to me, and yet was simultaneously very, very clear. I could see every
single line of wood grain, every strand of Ortega's hair where it drifted in the subtle breezes of
the hallway.
I could see everything.
A black spear rose of its own accord from the box that Bad Bob had opened. This was no shard;
it must have been at least six feet long, glittering and lethal. It slowly turned, and I had the
horrifying idea that it was aware, that it was seeking out its victim. It was nothing on the
aetheric, an absence of all things around it, just a black hole that could never be filled.
''Too bad your boyfriend couldn't be persuaded to make an appearance,'' Bad Bob said. ''I
suppose we'll just have to perform a small demonstration instead with this unlucky fellow.''
Paul caught sight of the hovering spear, and his face went an ugly, ragged shade of pale. ''No,''
he said. ''No, you agreed, only if we could get-''
The spear oriented itself and launched itself with sudden, horrific violence at Ortega.
I screamed and tried to form a shield in front of him, but the spear-the Unmaking-tore right
through as if my power was completely meaningless to it, and buried itself in Ortega's chest.
The sound he made was like nothing I had ever heard, something I couldn't bear to hear. It was
sheer torment, the sound of a Djinn being pulled apart and feeling every hard second of the
process.
Oh God no no no.
I was watching Ortega, but I was picturing David writhing on the floor of that room amid the
shattered crystal, and dying along with him.
The Unmaking was burrowing into him. I could feel it eating at him, could see the color leaching
from his skin.
And as it ate him, it grew larger.
''Oh God,'' Kevin said, and I'd never heard him sound like that, so utterly blank and young. As
if he'd never seen anything terrible in his life.
On the other side, Paul Giancarlo and most of the others winced and turned away. Some covered
their ears. Some looked sick.
Bad Bob continued to smile, utterly unmoved, and all my hate focused to a red pinpoint, right
between his crazy blue eyes.
My power wouldn't work against the Unmaking, but it would damn sure make a dent in him.
I called up everything, everything, and balled it into a single bright lance of light in my right
hand, and slammed it toward Bad Bob Biringanine.
Who kept smiling.
Paul Giancarlo stepped in the way-no, not stepped. Lurched. I don't think he meant to; I don't
think that it was his choice at all. Bad Bob owned the Sentinels, body and soul, and even they
probably didn't understand just how much his creatures they'd become. They'd opened the door
to hate and revenge, and the darkness had claimed them. Lee Antonelli had shown me that.
Bad Bob used him as a human shield, because he knew it would hurt me the worst of all.
I didn't scream, but the anguish must have shown in my face; Paul must have seen it, in that
instant before the force I released hit him squarely in the chest.
It was fast, so fast he never blinked as the light hit him and blew out his nervous system,
destroyed his brain stem, and dropped him lifeless to the floor.
I'd just killed my friend.
Kevin paused, just for a second, eyes wide, and then he attacked when he realized that I wasn't
capable of doing anything else at that moment, too frozen in shock to move or even defend
myself. The Sentinels were in confusion; Bad Bob was smiling at me, oblivious to anything but
my horror, and the rest of them had no idea what they were supposed to do. Like the Ma'at, they
were a collective mass of power, and without a guiding force, they fell apart.
Even so, if it had been just Kevin and me, we'd have been lost. Each of the Sentinels had more
power than we did, drawn from that black well of energy the Unmaking created when it
destroyed things; they'd have killed us on their own, given time.
They didn't have time.
An explosion rattled the entire building from outside. I saw a flaming car roll by the doors at the
far end of the hall.
The cavalry had arrived with a bang.
I felt the aetheric popping and crackling with the arrival of more Wardens-some on the scene,
some pouring power in from remote locations. I heard the sound of fighting from outside, and
then something massive crashed against the outer wall, smashing a hole the size of a Buick in the
brick, and through it I saw . . . the Apocalypse, or at least, as much as could fit in the parking lot
of a condemned motel.
A tornado skimmed past the opening, sucking and howling, sparking lightning against every
metallic surface. Cars rolled and disintegrated under the assault, then caught fire as Weather
Wardens clashed with Fire. I couldn't tell the good guys from the bad guys, at least until the rest
of the wall came down with a heavy slam, and Lewis walked in over the rubble, leading a small
but heavily kick-ass army, and joined me and Kevin.
''Surrender,'' he said flatly to the group of Sentinels at the end of the hall. ''Do it now and we'll
let you live to see a trial. Otherwise, you get buried today.''
He meant exactly what he said. Lewis was giving no quarter today, if they pushed him into a
showdown. There was no trace of hesitation in him at all.
Bad Bob must have known it. He winked, jolly as a leprechaun, and blew me a kiss. Then he
went to Ortega and wrenched the black spear out of him with his bare hands.
As it came out, it grew, adding inches more to its length. With every death it was fed, it grew
more malevolently, horribly powerful.
Ortega was a dessicated corpse. A husk.
Bad Bob reached down and yanked up a small female form that lay huddled at his feet, tied with
glittering black ropes. Cherise's big blue eyes were wide under the confusion of blond hair, but
the fury in her was all Rahel.
''You don't want to risk this one, do you?'' Bad Bob asked, and yanked hard on her hair.
''Come on, Lewis. I know you better than that. You're one of the good guys!''
Lewis's expression didn't alter by a flicker. ''She's human. Humans get hurt when Wardens
clash; you know that. It's on your head, not mine.''
''My son, you've really learned how to operate in the subzero, haven't you? Well, very fine, but
we both know that despite this very pretty shell, what's inside is no more human than that.'' He
jerked his head toward Ortega's body. ''Probably a whole lot less human, actually. She's a wild
one, isn't she?''
Rahel was playing Cherise for all she was worth, and it broke my heart to see my friend so
scared, shaking, and crying. ''Please,'' she choked, ''I don't know who you think I am, but I'm
not-''
''You're a Djinn,'' Bad Bob cut in. ''Show me. Show me now, or I use this.'' He still had the
spear in his other hand, and he raised it, prepared to thrust it into her guts.
Lewis let out a low, almost inaudible moan.
Rahel flowed out of her disguise, dark and commanding and imperious, but still restrained by the
black ropes. Her eyes snapped violent yellow sparks as she struggled to get free. She subsided,
panting, dreadlocks wild around her hawk-sharp face.