Gale Force

''David-''

He wasn't listening. His eyes were focused and distant. He had a mission, and that mission was

to get me out of danger. I didn't have anything to say about it.

I realized I was still holding the phone. Lewis's voice was a faint buzz on the other end. ''Right,

I'm out of the apartment,'' I said to him. ''And we're about to lose the co

with the disposal team. I don't want that thing lying around where anybody can pick it up. My

God, Lewis, there are people here. I

David put the Mustang in gear, and we screeched out of the parking place, cornered hard, and

accelerated out of the apartment complex and onto the street.

The phone went dead, of course. I tossed it in the backseat and rested my head against the

cushions as David put the Mustang through its paces, driving way too fast for a human's

reactions. He must have screened us out of other people's perceptions, because we blew past a

police squad car doing about 120, and there was no reaction at all from the two protecting and

serving in the front seat.

''I thought you didn't believe in this stuff,'' I said to David. ''You're acting like you do.''

''I'm trusting you,'' he said. ''If you say it's there, and you say it made you sick, I'm not taking

chances. But Jo-I can't see it. I can't sense it. It's just not there.''

''Look, there are things that exist that are invisible to humans-''

''But not to Dji

earth.''

This was kind of the point. He must have realized it, too. He was quiet for a moment, and when I

looked over, I saw that his eyes had taken on a fierce orange color, like the heart of a fire.

''This isn't something being done by the Dji

I personally believe in it or not is beside the point. If an enemy is sending these things to you,

personally, it's someone human. Someone who wishes you harm.''

No kidding. I remembered the angry phone call. ''Maybe it's a Demon,'' I said. ''They seem to

like to drop in for regular visits.''

''Not fu

''Yeah, not from this side, either. Do you think it is? A Demon?''

He seemed to consider it seriously. ''Demons aren't so . . . strategic in their approach. Their

goals are simple and straightforward-consume, kill, escape. Whatever this is, there's no sense

to what you described before. The dead creature-''

''Dji

He let that pass, but I could tell he was far from convinced. ''And the black thing inside him.

Who would do such a thing? Why?''

''Maybe,'' I said slowly, ''it was a test.''

''A test of what?''

''Of the Dji

He took his gaze away from the road, which was eerie and alarming, though I knew he didn't

need to be staring straight ahead to drive. ''Failed how?''

''Failed to sense the danger. Look, that was a Dji

''It wasn't.''

''Argument's sake, if it was, why can't you admit it? It's as if you just can't bring yourself to-

''

''There's nothing to admit!'' he said, and I heard the unmistakable vibration of anger underneath

the words. ''I would know if a Dji

''Except you don't, and one did,'' I said, and closed my eyes. ''So what does that mean?''

''It means-'' David took in a deep breath, and I could see him struggle to get his temper under

control. ''It doesn't mean anything. Because all this is an illusion, Jo. Just an illusion. There's no

dead Dji

Whoa. The blind spot the Dji

really scare me. And there didn't seem to be any point at all to trying to debate it, because he

simply wasn't going to listen.

I turned face forward as he steered the Mustang through traffic at speeds that would have made

NASCAR drivers weep and flinch. ''Glad we got that all straightened out.''

Sarcasm was wasted on him, right at the moment. He sent me a heartbreaking smile of relief, and

I realized he actually thought we had straightened it out.

Oh dear God.

We finished the drive in silence. Once the traffic cleared, David pulled off the road at a

beachfront area, one loaded up with pleasure-seeking, bikini-wearing sunbathers, all one tequila

short of a Girls Gone Wild video. He turned off the engine, and we sat for a while watching the

waves crash and roll, and the ta

''I need my cell phone,'' I said. David . . . flickered. Like a bad signal, or a hologram. And then

he reached in his coat pocket and handed over my cell phone, which I knew perfectly well I'd

left back on the table in the apartment. ''Hey. Don't do that, okay?''

He looked puzzled. ''Don't do what?''

''Don't go back there. Promise me.''

''Why?''

I swear, when I closed my eyes, I saw red. I counted to ten, deliberately, and tried to pry my

fingernails out of my palms. ''Because even if you don't believe it's there, that stuff is toxic to

me, and it could be fatal to you. All right?''

He shook his head. ''There's no danger. If there was, I'd know.''

Which was just crazy. But he earnestly seemed to think he was telling me the truth.

I took the cell phone and called Lewis. ''Where are you?''

''Just got here,'' he said. I heard his breath huffing; he and what sounded like an elephant herd

of people were jogging up the stairs. ''Okay, I see it. Box in front of the door.''

''That's it,'' I said. ''Be careful.''

''I'm not going anywhere near it, trust me. We're using a bomb robot.''

''We've got bomb robots now? Cool.''

''It's on loan from Homeland Security,'' Lewis said. ''They're not going to like it if I get it

blown up, though. I'll call you back.''

Homeland Security was loaning us gear? Wow. When had we actually come up in the world like

that? Apparently, while I'd been unconscious in a hospital bed for something or other, or on the

run. I wasn't sure if I liked it. Part of the reason the Wardens had existed for so long in secrecy

had been the low profile. The more we ''cooperated'' with other governmental agencies, the

more likely it was that we'd get attention, and any attention was bad.

I remembered the reporters, and shivered. They had a job to do, and although they'd grant me

some sick time, they'd be back.

''Let's change the subject,'' David said. ''The wedding. Where do you want to have it? At the

chapel?''

There was only one chapel for us-Imara's home, the Chapel of the Holy Cross. I nodded

slowly. ''But we'd have to have it in secret,'' I said. ''After hours. They don't do official

weddings there.''

''I could work it out,'' he said. I was sure that was true, actually. ''It won't hold too many.''

''Small ceremony,'' I said. ''Big reception. It works.''

He nodded, staring straight ahead into the rolling surf, the eternal sky. ''Are you all right?''

''Me? Sure.'' I dredged up a laugh. ''Why wouldn't I be? Just because some crazy is sending me

antimatter through the mail . . .''

''We changed the subject,'' he reminded me gently. ''If you're worried about the wedding, you

can still change your mind.''

I draped an elbow over my seat and curled around to face him, resting my chin on my forearm.

''I really don't think I can,'' I said. ''And I really don't think I want to.'' I felt a cold breath of . .

. something. ''Unless . . . you're having doubts about us-''

''No,'' David said immediately. ''I'm just concerned for you. You seem . . . unreasonably upset.