''That's better,'' Bad Bob said. ''Do tell David that we'll be in touch, Jo. If he wants to stop me
from continuing to kill his people, he should consider giving himself up to us. Very soon.''
The Sentinels crowded around him. Bad Bob grabbed Rahel, and each of them touched the black
surface . . . and vanished. All of them together, Rahel included.
He'd taken her.
Kevin collapsed against one of the left-standing structural walls, gagging for breath. He looked
terrible. I must have looked a hell of a lot worse, because Lewis took one look at me, gestured,
and suddenly there were two Earth Wardens at my side, pouring warm, sticky power into me like
syrup.
I felt a rush of presence around me as I started to fall, and David's arms caught me and held me
close. ''Oh God,'' he whispered against my hair. ''Are you crazy? What were you trying to do?''
''Save you,'' I whispered back. ''Always.'' I wanted to tell him that everything was all right
here, too, in this warm, soft place I'd reached where nothing hurt. But I couldn't stay in that
place, even though it was so tempting to just give up and let shock take over.
Instead, I forced my legs to stiffen, and I pulled away from him. David let me go. He saw what
was in my face, and he let me go.
I walked toward Ortega. When Lewis tried to stop me, I shook him off. When he tried again, I hit
him with a lightning bolt. I was insane, but not quite that insane; I pulled the charge at the last
moment, feeding just enough through him to knock him back a step.
Ortega was dead. His eyes had gone black, burned and lifeless, and his skin was a dull, dusty
gray, as if he'd turned to stone. David joined me, standing close but not touching.
''It's not your fault,'' I told David. I could only imagine that he was thinking about ordering
Ortega to come here, because he'd known there was a chance. . . .
But that wasn't what he was thinking at all. David cocked his head slowly to one side, staring at
the dead Djinn, and asked, very quietly, ''Who is he?''
Chapter Twelve
None of the Djinn knew him, not even Venna, when I insisted that she be summoned from
whatever beach resort Ashan had decided to take his people to for the duration of the crisis. I
wasn't sure that Venna would come, but she'd always been her own master, and that hadn't
changed just because Ashan thought it had. He might be her Conduit, but he'd never own her.
Venna, dressed in her vintage Alice outfit, paced slowly in front of the wall and Ortega's body,
studying him closely. It was eerie, seeing that kind of detachment packaged in the body of a little
girl who almost radiated innocence.
She and David were the only ones allowed near the body at all. The entire room had been
cordoned off in space-age-looking shielding, and all of the rest of us were being thoroughly
checked out by a radiation team. Not surprisingly, we'd all gotten a dose. ''Not that it's as
unusual as people think it is,'' said the Chatty Cathy in the hazmat suit who was drawing my
blood. ''The average American gets about three hundred fifty millirems a year, just from the
environment. Hey, want to know the weird part? Forty millirems of that comes out of our own
bodies. We're little fusion reactors, you know. Potassium-40 in the brain, Carbon-14 in the
liver.'' She was chatty because she was scared, though her hands were steady enough. She must
have realized it, because she sent me an apologetic glance through the plastic visor of her space
suit. ''Sorry. I jabber when I'm nervous. This is just-well. They don't exactly train you for this
at NEST school.''
I wondered what the government had been told, or was telling them; the whole thing was
founded on need-to-know, and I doubted even this woman had a clue. There were some FBI
agents stalking the scene in their trademark dark windbreakers, talking into cell phones. Lots of
cops. Fire department.
And reporters. Lots of reporters, a cresting wave of them held back by a sandbar of uniformed
police around the perimeter. I could hear the dull thud of news helicopters overhead. No doubt
we were in heavy rotation on all the news channels.
In the shielded room, Alice finished her inspection of Ortega and came out. The NEST doctor
working on me muttered something under her breath, but she kept her eyes down and focused on
what she was doing. Keep on living in denial, I thought. Safer that way, lady.
Venna came up to my side and stared at the needle in my arm. ''What is she doing?''
''Taking blood.''
''Is she going to give it back?''
''Venna, what did you sense in there?''
''He is not a Djinn,'' she said. There was no doubt in her voice at all. ''I don't know what he is.
Or was.''
''He was a Djinn,'' I said. Venna slowly shook her head. ''Venna, that was Ortega. You know
Ortega; you remember him-''
Another slow shake of her head. It was exactly the same response I'd gotten from David, and
from two other Djinn he'd summoned. None of them recognized Ortega at all. They didn't
classify him as human; they didn't classify him as anything. Certainly, not anyone.
I thought with a sudden hot pang of the Miami estate, all that fascinating, rich chaos that Ortega
had surrounded himself with. I'd barely met him, but I was the only one who could mourn him.
''Never mind. Thanks for the help,'' I sighed to Venna, who cut her eyes sharply toward the
doctor, who was withdrawing the needle and applying a bandage to the bend of my arm. ''You
know about Rahel?''
''That your enemies have her? Yes.'' Venna continued to stare at the doctor, to the extent that
the poor woman fumbled the tube she was holding, but caught it on the way to the floor. ''I do
care, you know. But this is a mess humans made, and humans must correct. Ashan won't
interfere. He won't want me to interfere, either.''
''Venna,'' I said, ''that's Bad Bob Biringanine in charge of the Sentinels. You know what he did
to Djinn before. You think he's going to be any better now? Any kinder? You can't stick your
heads in the sand and pretend like you don't live here, too, as if you're not at risk. Rahel's proof
of that.''
No answer. She transferred her unblinking stare to me, which at least enabled the doc to make a
confused, nervous getaway.
''There's a book,'' I said. ''The kind of book Star had. You know the one. And Bad Bob has it.''
Her eyes went black. Storm black. She didn't move, but there was something entirely different
about her, suddenly.
I held myself very, very still.
''A book of the Ancestors?'' she asked. I nodded. I was very careful about that, too. ''Then he
has power he should not have. Like Star.''
''Does that change anything?''
She never blinked, and her eyes stayed black. ''I don't know,'' she said. ''I will find out.''
That sounded ominous. She blipped away before I could ask how she intended to go about doing
that, and I didn't think any amount of calling her name was going to get her back. Not now.
David was still in the shielded room. He was studying Ortega, the way someone might a
fascinating abstract sculpture, trying to find meaning in random patterns. I tapped on the window
and got his attention; he shook his head, as if he was trying to clear it, and came through the
decontamination door. One of the NEST members tried to lecture him about procedures, but he
ignored it and came directly to me.
''Radiation,'' I reminded him.
''I shed it in the room,'' he said. ''How about you? How do you feel?'' Oh, the joys of being