Gale Force

a steady pace, carefully level, then moved forward over the gabled roof of the diner. Nobody

looked up to follow our progress. I held on to the wheel in a white-knuckled death grip; flying

had never been my favorite method of transportation, and far less so when the vehicle wasn't

actually designed for flight. Shades of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

''What are they seeing?'' I asked. My voice was a half octave higher than I wanted it to be.

''Nothing of any significance. To them, the car hasn't moved from where it's parked. They see

the two of us standing at the phone booth. Oh, and a flock of birds overhead, just in case

someone has some rudimentary sense of the aetheric.'' Some people did; the ones with a strong

sense of it generally put out shingles as psychics or became wildly successful investors or

gamblers. If they had more than that, they probably would have ended up in the Ma'at, where

they were taught to combine their powers with colleagues, and work in concert, if their abilities

weren't enough to qualify them as Wardens.

I had to rely wholly on David to keep me off the Warden radar. I would remain mostly difficult

to find until I had to draw on my powers, but at that moment, I'd light up the aetheric like a

spotlight in a cave.

My brain was babbling to distract itself from the impossibility of a ton of metal hanging in

midair, gliding at an angle away from the diner and toward a very busy road. ''Landing will be

tricky,'' David said. ''Are you ready? When we touch down, you'll have to really accelerate to

make the merge.''

Great. Now freeway merging was taking on a whole new dimension of complexity. I nodded,

and got ready to put my foot down and shift as David brought the car in at a gliding angle,

moving us faster and faster as the road blurred on approach. . . . It was like landing a jet, only

way scarier, from my point of view.

The tires hit pavement with a lurch, and I instantly clutched, shifted, and accelerated, leaving a

rubber scratch where we'd hit. The Mustang bounced but recovered nicely, and when I checked

the rearview mirror, the car behind us was still a few feet away. Not quite heart-attack distance,

at least not on my end. I could only imagine that on the other driver's end, having a car just

appear in front of him might have been . . . unsettling. Maybe when people said he came out of

nowhere after an accident, they really were telling the truth.

I got the inevitable honk and New Jersey salute, returned the favor, and settled into the drive.

David relaxed-but not all the way. I could translate his body language pretty well, and he was

still tense. Trying hard not to let me know it, but tense.

''You're starting to believe me,'' I said, ''that things aren't quite as straightforward as they

seemed.''

''They never are with you. I've always taken you seriously,'' he said. ''But now I'm taking your

enemies seriously as well.''

Not a good sign for them, and that cheered me up as much as the food back at the diner. I was

tired, and achy from the stress and the drive, but there was something restful and strangely

comforting about having the wheel beneath my hands and my feet on the pedals. And David at

my side, which happened far less than I'd always craved. Which reminded me . . . ''You're

hanging around,'' I said. ''Do Dji

''Since I'm the boss, I can take vacation whenever I want,'' he said, and took off his glasses to

needlessly polish them. It was so cute that Dji

instantly that he was fibbing. ''I can take the time.''

David's job wasn't exactly low-key. He served as the Conduit for half of the Dji

between them and the raw power of Mother Earth. Without that link, the Dji

Wardens and their relatively feeble draw of power from the aetheric. His job was different from

that of the Oracles, but even more crucial, and it didn't have time off.

The Dji

ancient beings who'd been forced into the worst kind of slavery imaginable for centuries at a

time, I wouldn't be all that fond of relying on others, either.

What else David did besides managing that power flow for his people, though, was a mystery to

me. I knew he had to leave me on a fairly frequent basis to attend to business; I knew some of

that business had to do with Dji

had become the court of last supernatural resort, a role I instinctively knew he didn't want and

wasn't comfortable in playing. His friend Jonathan had been a great leader, one who'd held the

Dji

wisdom that everyone respected.

David, however, was crippled by two things: One, he wasn't Jonathan; two, he had me to worry

about. I was his Achilles' heel, at least when it came to his fellow elementals. Most of them

didn't understand why he spent so much time in human form, and they'd never understand why

he had offered marriage to a mere bug like me. They'd forgive him for it, those who liked him;

after all, pledging to stay at my side would only last a human lifetime, barely a blink to the

Dji

But it was a worry. He'd become kind of a Crazy Cat Lady among the elementals, far too

attached to humanity for his own good. It was a sign, faint but definite, that he wasn't destined

for the same long-term status that Jonathan had held.

It made David vulnerable in ways I could only dimly imagine.

''What are you thinking about?'' David asked. His eyes were closed, and his head was back

against the cushion.

''Whether I want purple roses or yellow ones. I think purple might be a nice touch for the

wedding bouquet.''

''That's not what you were thinking about.''

''How do you know?''

He smiled, but didn't open his eyes. ''Because I know when you're happy, and you're not.

Thinking about wedding bouquets is something you do when you're happy.''

''You make me happy,'' I said, and that wasn't at all a lie. I took his hand in mine. ''And that's

all that counts.''

He lifted my fingers to his lips and pressed a warm kiss against them. ''Yes,'' he said. ''It is.''

Chapter Seven

The rest of the drive was full of the normal a

idiotic behavior by other motor vehicle operators. David didn't have to ward off any supernatural

assaults, and all that the day required of me was moderately offensive driving to avoid the

unexpected lane changes and people failing to check their blind spots.

We rolled into the Warden parking garage, checked through the extensive security procedures,

and got our passes for the headquarters floor. It had been remodeled, again; somebody had

kindly seen to taking my name off the Memorial Wall, where they'd hastily had it added when

I'd been thought to be dead. That was what I thought, anyway, but then I looked closer. They'd

really just put some kind of filler into the engraving, a clear indication that they expected me to

get clobbered at any time. This way, they could rinse it out and voila, I'd be memorialized all

over again. At a bargain.

I ca

and ignored David's slightly alarmed look. He was picking up vibrations, all right, and I tried

hard to keep myself under better control.

Lewis was waiting for us in the big round conference room, the main one, and there was a crowd