Peace,I thought to it. I don’t want to be here, either.
I felt sick, weak, and empty, but the people around me were alive. So was I.
It was something, in a world of nothing.
After far too much fuss and bother, we were moved to another plane. By the time the flight finally departed, the brief, violent storm was breaking, and the sun burning away the black clouds.
Manny met me at the Albuquerque airport.
If I had expected a welcome, I would have been disappointed; no smiles for me, only the fiercest of frowns and a hard grip on my arm to march me toward the exit.
“We were delayed,” I said. “The first plane was struck by lightning.”
“Yeah, I know. Accidentally on purpose. Don’t say anything until we’re in the van.”
The van was idling at the passenger pickup location, and the driver was Luis Rocha. He gave me the smile that Manny had not, as I slid into the seat behind him. Manny climbed into the passenger’s side and slammed the door with vicious fury.
“Drive,” he told Luis. Luis cocked an eyebrow toward me as he shifted the van into drive and pulled into traffic.
“He’s been like this all day,” Luis said. “You owe me for putting up with him.”
I did not reply. I was watching Manny, trying to determine why he was so angry with me. Granted, I had not asked his permission to travel, but did he truly expect that I would? It seemed difficult to believe. I was not a slave, nor was I a child.
“Who is it?” Manny asked me. “You said you knew who started the fire. Who?”
“I spoke with a Warden in El Paso named Molly Magruder. She is directly responsible.”
Luis’s reaction was instructive; he flinched, and the van veered until he quickly corrected it. Behind us, someone honked a horn in annoyance. Luis made a rude gesture out the window.
“And?” Manny prodded. He’d noticed his brother’s reaction too, but he didn’t comment.
“She created the fire, but it was at the request of someone else. Your boss,” I said. “Scott. The same Weather Warden who just tried to silence me, and a plane full of innocent people, in El Paso.
That brought a long, thoughtful silence, during which the two brothers exchanged glances. Luis shrugged. Manny, I thought, went from angry to seeming a bit ill.
“You’re sure about this?”
“Sure? No. I have the word of Molly Magruder, and the attack on my aircraft. I cannot positively identify a Warden by his actions, unless I’m connected to him.”
Luis cleared his throat. “That might be a little tough, then, because we just got a bulletin come over the Warden network. Molly Magruder was killed.”
“Killed,” I repeated. It did not immediately hit me what this might mean. “Killed how?”
“Murdered,” Luis said. “She was found in her house, dead. Somebody had crushed her heart inside her chest.” He shifted his gaze from the road to the rearview mirror, and met my eyes. “Somebody like an Earth Warden.”
“Or a Djinn,” I said.
“Exactly. You got anybody that saw her alive after you left her house? Maybe saw her waving bye-bye to you from the door?”
“No. I did not see her again. The driver picked me up at the curb.” I began to understand exactly what he meant, and it was unpleasant. “You mean that they will believe that I killed her.”
“Did you?” Manny was looking out the window, not at me. Luis gave me another quick, almost involuntary glance in the mirror.
“No.”
“That’s all you’ve got to say about it?”
“I left her alive. I took a cab to the airport. I boarded a plane, which was attacked by a Weather Warden. What more is there to tell?”
“She’s got a point,” Luis offered. “She can’t just make up an alibi out of nothing.”
“I’m not asking her to! But there’s got to be some way to prove—”
“Find the killer,” I said. “It isn’t Scott, clearly; he was well capable of attacking me at the airport, but it takes an Earth Warden to crush a heart in the chest.”
“Or a Djinn,” Manny said.
“Or both.”
Manny looked directly at me. “I think you’d better explain why Ashan hates you so bad.”
I was wondering just when the subject would arise; I was surprised that it hadn’t already, as Manny felt more and more comfortable around me. “I can’t,” I said.
“Won’t,” Luis supplied. “That’s what she means.”
“Yes, won’t,” I said sharply. “It’s Djinn business, and none of yours.”
“It’s our business when we’re neck deep in it!”
“That has nothing to do with this! This is some petty Warden political—”
“We don’t knowwhat this is, and neither do you! I’m sick of your damn secrets!” Manny’s shout overrode mine. I sank back against the upholstery and turned my attention out the window, shutting him and his brother out for the time being. I crossed my arms, then remembered that humans did that in arguments to indicate they were set in their opinions. I uncrossed them and put my hands in my lap instead—not because I wasn’t set in my opinion, but because I did not want to be seen as that human.
Ignoring them quieted things down considerably. The remainder of the conversation occurred between Luis and Manny, and it was in lower tones. I did not pay much attention, watching as the streets and houses of Albuquerque flashed by.
We pulled to a halt in front of Manny’s house. Angela and Ibby were in the front yard, and Ibby immediately bounded to the fence to wave as Manny and Luis descended from the van. Manny, in a fit of very human pique, did not open the back sliding door for me. It proved more difficult to manage than I’d thought, and so I was just exiting the vehicle as Manny and Luis crossed the street and entered the front yard gate.
A car started its engine down the block and pulled out into the road, heading toward us—a large black car, with heavily tinted windows. Older. More solidly built than newer models. I did not pay it much mind, save to wait for it to pass so that I could cross the street.
It slowed a little as it approached.
I saw Luis recognize the danger first—a widening of his eyes, a cold shock in his expression. He was closest to Ibby, and he grabbed her and hurled her violently to the ground. Her scream cut the morning like a silver knife, just an instant before the air shattered under the thunder of guns firing.
I saw Angela and Manny fall. Luis dived for the ground, covering Isabel.
Bullets pocked pale holes in the house behind them, shattered windows.
The black car applied speed and screeched around the nearest corner.
I screamed in rage, and the day went red. They dared. They dared attack those I protected!
I did not think about my actions. I simply threw myself into pursuit.
Human bodies are not meant for such excesses, but I poured energy recklessly into my tissues, forcing the muscles to extreme efforts, and although the car accelerated away, I began to catch up. I heard yelling inside the black sedan, and a gun appeared from the back right side and fired at me. I dodged and continued to gain on them.
The car took another corner on two wheels. More gunfire opened up, this time from the passenger’s side of the vehicle.
It missed.
I gained.
When I sensed my muscles were capable of no more effort without serious damage, I slowed. The sedan pulled away, and I heard whoops of victory from within it.
If they had seen the snarl that formed on my face, they would not have celebrated so quickly.
The paved street rose up to my command, twisting and cracking in an oncoming wave six feet tall. The car slammed into it at killing speed, and the sound of rending metal and shattering glass was louder than gunfire.
I quickly eased the ground back into place. The asphalt topping was broken and pitted, but that could not be helped. I saw the red glow at the edges of my vision sparkle into black, and knew that I was in danger of overextending myself, spending too much power. Not even rage could fuel me past that point.