I recognized her, too—I’d nicknamed her Prada, once upon a time, because she had a pretty sharp fashion sense, but she was looking a little the worse for wear right now. The fine designer jacket was torn, the crisp white shirt stained, and whatever jewelry she’d been affecting was long gone. The look was, well, feral would be one word for it. She was glaring at Alice, who by contrast looked unruffled and altogether too clean to have been in a grudge match, although that was obviously what was going on.
I’d arrived just in time for Act III of an ongoing drama. And possibly a tragedy.
Even if the cops arrived, they weren’t going to be able to handle this.
“Um… stay here,” I said to Cherise, and moved around the stopped cars, heading for Alice.
“Hey! What are you doing?” She bailed out on the driver’s side. “Do you know that guy?”
“Just stay here!” I barked, and I guess the ring of command must have come through; Cherise stopped where she was, watching me as I moved carefully toward the railing.
Something she said made me think. The guy up there did look vaguely familiar, but no, I wasn’t sure I knew him. But there was something…
He fixed on me. Like recognizing like. He stopped flailing with his free right hand for balance and held it out to me. Palm exposed.
And I saw the swift, silver glitter of a glyph.
He was a Warden.
Prada, balanced on the railing with the ease of a hawk on a high wire, shook him violently for moving without permission. His feet scrabbled for purchase on the slick metal and he yelped, face gone pale and blank with strain.
Alice suddenly flicked that nuclear-hot stare in my direction, and there was nothing childlike in those eyes.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said to me.
“Tell me about it,” I said. “I’m not thrilled about it either.”
“ Thisis what you bring as reinforcements?” That was Prada, indulging in a sneer while Alice’s attention was elsewhere. I wouldn’t have, if I’d been her, but then, I wouldn’t have been stupid enough to get into the fight in the first place. Alice was definitely not a power you wanted to mess with. “This human?”
Prada had killed me once. Well, temporarily. And to be fair, she’d been under orders to do it, since she was enslaved to a master—speaking of which, no sign of her hit man Warden boss. Which made me both happy and nervous.
Alice didn’t so much as look at Prada, just shifted her weight slightly in the other Djinn’s direction, and I felt the aetheric swirling in new, scary ways.
Oh, this was way ugly, and bound to get worse. Wardens having at it with their powers was bad for humanity at large; Djinn had the potential to be far, far worse.
Why were they fighting? And more importantly, what were they fighting over?
And wait… reinforcements? That sounded bad. That sounded like Prada might have help coming. Did Free Djinn fight in public like this? I’d never heard of it happening before.
Especially not with a Warden as the chew-toy between two attack dogs. That, I would have heard of.
“I didn’t call for help,” Alice said, in that sweet little-girl voice. “I don’t need any. One last chance. Let him go.”
Prada gave her a mocking little laugh and jerked the Warden off balance again.
All she had to do was open her hand. It was a good long ways down to an ugly, bone-crunching impact on the busy freeway below. Alice didn’t move; it was possible, given the power balance, that there was nothing she could do that wouldn’t kill the hostage caught in the middle.
“Alice, what’s going on?” I asked.
“Who’s Alice?” Cherise asked, craning her neck. She’d ventured over to stand next to me. “That guy’s named Alice? Hope it’s his last name.”
“Shut up and go back to the car!” I practically yelled it at her. She winced and danced backward, holding up her hands in surrender.
This was out of control, and it was very, very dangerous. Prada and Alice couldn’t unleash anything like a full-scale Djinn war here; there were way too many innocent people in range. They could bring down this whole bridge. There was no way I could protect against that.
“This isn’t your fight,” Alice said to me. Her attention was riveted on Prada, on the man Prada was holding. “Leave. You’ll draw their attention if you interfere.”
“Me? Wait… theirattention? Who are you talking about? Alice, talk to me! What the hell’s happening?”
I could feel Cherise looking at me strangely, since I was apparently having a conversation with thin air. I couldn’t worry about that right now.
“Go!” Alice said sharply, and I felt a sudden push on the aetheric. She meant business. “I can’t protect you. Stay away from us.”
I was liking the sound of this less and less. “Not until I know what’s going on with you guys.”
She made a growling sound. It was reallyunsettling, because so far as I’d ever noticed, Alice in Wonderland hadn’t been big on growling like a rabid animal.
The growl broke off as if somebody had pulled the switch on it, and she swiveled away from me to survey the general area. “Too late,” she said. “They’re here.”
As I turned, I saw the otherDjinn. Four of them, misting into visibility at strategic points in the crowd. She was outnumbered. Probably not outclassed, but still.
“You have to stop,” Alice said, turning back to Prada. “He’ll forgive you for what you’ve done, but you must stop now. No more.”
Prada sank her flawlessly polished talons deeper into the Warden’s left arm, and pulled him off balance again. He teetered desperately, struggling to stay alive.
I could hear his gasps even over the shouts of the onlookers, trying to talk him down. They, of course, were operating under the assumption that he was crazy, and could choose to do something on his own. Could save himself.
I knew better.
Around me, the four new Djinn were closing in. Slowly. They seemed to be either cautious about Alice’s abilities, or enjoying themselves. Maybe both.
This didn’t make any sense. Djinn didn’t bring their fights into the human world like this, not so publicly. And a Warden trapped in the middle, a tender morsel between tigers… no, this wasn’t good at all. Things were shifting. I could feel that, even if I didn’t know why it was happening.
Prada was aiming a cold, hard, inhuman smile at Alice.
“You should run, little one,” she purred. “I promise not to chase you.”
“I’m not running,” Alice said. “You started the fight. You should be prepared to carry it all the way.”
“I am.”
“Then leave the man out of it. He doesn’t matter.”
“Of course he matters!” Prada gave her a contemptuous look. The Warden’s feet slipped, and he flailed for balance, anchored by Prada’s ruthless grip. The crowd of spectators who’d gathered gasped. A trucker leaned out the door of his semi, open-mouthed.
I didn’t have a lot of time. I could hear the wail of sirens approaching; the cops would be here soon, and God only knew what that would mean.
Alice folded her hands together and watched. Wind ruffled her cornsilk-smooth hair, fluttered the sky blue dress and white pinafore. She was straight out of Lewis Carroll, but when I focused on the adult strength in that child’s face, I could see something older, stronger, and far scarier than anything out of the Looking Glass.
Prada had made her angry. That was probably a really, really stupid move.
“That guy’s gonna jump,” Cherise murmured softly from behind me. “Oh my God. Oh my God…”
The four other Djinn—had to be allies of Prada—were stalking closer. Alice suddenly made her move, lashing out with an explosive flare of power. It hit Prada, looped around her, and attempted to jerk her and her hostage off of the railing and onto the relative safety of the bridge, but it backfired. Prada, straining to counter it, nearly went over instead. Alice immediately dropped the attack when the Warden screamed in panic.