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suppose, your Djinn pouring poison down her throat the way I did it to you in the first place.

Never been much for poetry, myself.'' He stretched out a hand. The bottle of tequila left the bar

and arrowed across the room to smack into his palm. He swallowed one mouthful, then two, and

licked his lips. ''Down to us, isn't it?''

''Is it?'' I cocked my head and smiled back at him, trying to be as winter cold as he. ''So what're

you going to do, Bob? The Djinn have twice the power they did an hour ago, and none of the

restraints they used to have. You can't command them. You can't trick them. And you damn sure

can't scare them anymore. The Wardens know you now, and the ones who thought the idea of

the Sentinels made sense are learning better, fast. You can't threaten to go public. What's left?''

''Same thing that's always left, girly-girl.'' He shrugged. ''Death, horror, destruction. No matter

how good you are, you can't stop it all. I'll push you until you break, you, the Wardens, the

Djinn. Until you make a mistake and I come for you.''

''You don't think coming here was a mistake?'' I asked. '' 'Cause I have to admit, ballsy. Not

real smart, but ballsy.''

''Oh, I'll be gone well before help arrives,'' he said. ''Might surprise you, but I can do the Djinn

thing now-blip around through the aetheric. Handy when you want to visit old, suspicious

friends.''

I felt the atmosphere shift, slide toward the darker spectrums. ''Okay. Nice to see you, Bob.

Now, fuck off.''

''I always did love your sharp tongue,'' he said. ''I'm not going to fight you today. Be a shame

to destroy that dress.'' The bastard winked at me. ''No, I'll just go home, play with my new

friends. You know them, I'll bet: Rahel, that rascal, pretending to be all soft and human like that.

Oh, and my new friend. Someone very special.''

He reached into the shadows, and he pulled out my daughter.

Imara stumbled and fell to her knees, the brick-red dress she normally wore now fluttering and

writhing around her. He'd bound her up with black ropes of twisting, glittering power, and where

they touched her, they burned. No, I thought numbly. Impossible. She was safe; she was taken

back to the chapel; Ashan was guarding her. . . .

''Ashan never did like this one,'' he said. ''Figures on appointing a new Earth Oracle in short

order. Nice friends you have. Maybe you ought to reconsider which side of this you're on, girl;

what do you think?''

I lunged for Imara and slammed into a barrier, one that blew me back across the room to slam

full force into the glass tiles of the bar. I saw stars and darkness, and sank to an awkward sitting

position on the floor, surrounded by fallen shards of mirror.

''Oh, don't fuss. She's not really here. Just thought I'd give you fair warning, because it's going

to hurt you a whole lot worse than it hurts me when I do get around to taking your kid.''

''Stop,'' I said. I felt light-headed, sick, hot. I no longer felt in the least invulnerable. ''What do

you want?''

''I want to make a deal,'' Bad Bob said. ''Your daughter's life for David's. Fair trade.''

''No.'' I snarled it. ''You don't even have her, you bastard; you already said so!''

''I said I don't have her now. Not that I wouldn't have her by the time your little rescue party

fails to take me out. Sorry, kid,'' he said to Imara's image. ''Mommy doesn't love you all that

well, looks like. Too bad, you're a cutie.''

He showed me what he was going to do to her, to my child, and I didn't look away. I wanted to,

desperately, but something in me that was far colder, far wiser than my heart made me stay

strong.

''When I'm finished,'' he said, in a whisper as black as the Unmaking itself, ''then I'll reach

through her to destroy you. But not before. I want you to feel every moment of it, Joanne. Every

. . . single . . . moment.''

The Wardens and the Djinn had finally arrived, no doubt summoned by Kevin and Cherise. I felt

the flare of power outside the doors; they were out there, but Bad Bob was keeping them shut

out. He could do that. He had power to burn . . . but he wasn't doing it alone. I recognized the

signature behind it.

Ashan. Ashan was still interfering, throwing up barriers, trying to get me killed. He'd consider

his problems solved, if I just disappeared from the face of the earth. After all, the vows David

and I had exchanged had elevated the New Djinn in power-made them, I suspected, a match for

the Old Djinn. Maybe even more than a match.

''You don't have my daughter, and you're not going to have her,'' I said, with an icy calm that I

was far from feeling. ''The Djinn would be all over you right now if you'd harmed a hair on an

Oracle's head. You're a fool if you think anything else-and that includes Ashan, by the way.

He might be using you, but he'll never stand with you.''

Bad Bob stared at me for a second. The grisly vision of Imara vanished into mist. Gone. He lifted

the tequila bottle to his lips and drank. Drank it dry. Then he tossed the bottle back to me, and I

snatched it out of the air.

''You come on, princess,'' he said. ''You find out what I've got. Call my bluff.''

I didn't blink. ''All right,'' I said. ''I call.'' Anything, anything to buy time. My backup didn't

dare come at him unprepared, any more than I dared a direct assault against him; they had to be

sure he was cut off from his support, and that they could get to him before he got me. Bad Bob

had it in him to slaughter me, right here, right now. I felt it in the air. David needed to counter

Ashan's influence first.

We'd wanted this. We'd asked for it. I only hoped that we were prepared to actually deal with it,

now that the moment was staring us in the face.

''Good girl.'' That smile, that evil, dark smile, grew wider still. ''So give me your expert

opinion: Do you think this is just another illusion?'' He reached aside, into the shadows, and this

time he pulled out a book: the book, a twin to the one, bound in leather and wrapped in iron, that

I'd last seen in the vault in Ortega's Miami mansion.

I felt the pull of it from here, and the whisper of power. Nope, that was not an illusion. And our

time was running out. I reached through the golden thread that welded me fast to David and

whispered, It's here; he has it here, and felt the Djinn surge in response.

They slammed hard into a black shell of crackling power that Bad Bob threw up so fast it made

me shudder. The Wardens backed off, and the Djinn melted away, circling, looking for

weakness.

I was trapped.

Bad Bob took the iron peg out of the latch with a flick of his finger, opened the book, and flipped

pages. ''You have any idea what's in here, sweetheart?'' he asked. ''What kind of havoc I can

wreak? Ah, here's a good one. . . .'' Words spilled out of his mouth, strange and liquid, and

something in my brain trembled and screamed an alarm.

I froze as the last syllable left his lips, and felt something seize control of me, and a burning

sensation high on my right shoulder blade, like a brand being pressed deep into the flesh. I

couldn't flinch. Couldn't scream. I smelled my own skin burning, and couldn't so much as cry.

This shouldn't happen. This can't happen!

''Hush,'' Bob murmured. ''Sooner done, soonest over. There. Now I own you, sweet little Jo.

The way it was meant to be.'' He snapped the book shut and dropped it; it vanished into mist

before it hit the floor. He was storing it in a pocket universe, somewhere in the aetheric. No way