Gale Force

thinking. We just got done burying people who were killed by these bastards, and now she's

going to marry one? Not just a Dji

the Warden rules wasn't enough of a thrill anymore?''

''Shut up, Kevin.'' We'd worked this out, but I was still taken aback by the venom in his voice.

Kevin had a huge backlog of hate stored up, and some of it was meant for me; it was an officially

approved opportunity for him to vent some of it, and I was going to have to be the one to control

my reactions. He's a kid, I reminded myself. He's a kid who's been wounded, over and over. Cut

him some slack.

My slack-cutting hand was getting tired.

''Shut up? In your dreams, bitch.'' He stepped up again, this time addressing the entire hall.

''Look, you can see where this is going, right? You think the Dji

forget all the time we spent sticking them in little bottles, making them do our shit work? You

think they don't hate us for that? Don't kid yourselves. She thinks this is some kind of peace

process. It's not. It's obscene. Believe me, I know all about obscene. Especially when it comes

to people using the Dji

''That's enough,'' I said, and moved to the edge of the stage. ''Enough, Kevin.''

''Don't think so. Bad enough the two of you popped out some kind of mutant kid-''

I saw red, and fury burned up from around the base of my spine and jolted into my head like a

physical shock. Son of a bitch. He'd never said he was going to drag Imara into this, and while I

was prepared to overlook personal insults to myself, my kid wasn't part of the deal. Some of the

audience agreed with me; they were shouting him down. But a significant portion was either

silent or nodding in agreement, shooting me frowns and dark looks.

''We need to move away from the Dji

''She just wants everything to go back to normal. What the hell was so great about that, anyway?

What about the rest of you? You think we should just rip up the blood-stained carpet, remodel,

and get over it? Or should we figure out what the Wardens are supposed to be? Not depending

on Dji

''What's the matter, Kevin?'' I asked. ''Some hot Dji

We'd scripted this part. I hadn't wanted to do it-had argued against it, in fact-but now I took

just a tiny bit of satisfaction in seeing him visibly flinch. The pallor that set into his face,

followed by a vivid flush, wasn't acting. I was bringing up old demons, opening old wounds.

''No,'' he said. ''I turned them down. But it didn't matter. They had their orders, and the Dji

always follow their orders, don't they? My mother made sure of that.''

Rumors had floated around over the past year about Kevin, about his stepmother, Yvette, who

was truly one of the most morally grotesque people I'd ever met. About her illicit use of Dji

for personal gratification, and for other, even less savory, purposes.

Kevin had suffered at her hands. I didn't know whether or not she'd turned her Dji

sexual sense, but I didn't doubt it. It would have been a tragedy for the Dji

but Kevin wouldn't necessarily feel that.

The worst part of it was that for at least some period of time, Yvette had owned David. I'd never

asked him what his history was with Kevin, and neither he nor Kevin had ever really come clean

about it.

I hoped I wasn't hearing the truth of it, right now, but the pain and rage in Kevin couldn't

possibly be mistaken for anything else but honesty.

''I hope you get what's coming to you. Both of you,'' he spat, and turned to leave.

''Wait a minute,'' I said. ''You think you just get to make a dramatic exit?'' I sent a gust of wind

past him and blew the doors shut with a heavy thud. ''Sit your ass down, Kevin.''

''Bite me.'' He whirled back toward me, and there were tears glittering in his eyes, real and

agonizing, and I almost stopped it there, almost went to him and put my arms around him and

told him he didn't have to do this.

Lewis got in my way. ''Sit,'' he said flatly. ''I'm not telling you again, Kevin. If you can't

control yourself, I'll do it for you.''

In answer, Kevin formed a fireball in both hands, glared at both of us through the unholy orange

glow, and then turned and threw the fireball straight at the doors. It hit and detonated with

enough force to blow the doors open and off their hinges.

He walked out.

''No,'' I said, and put out a hand to stop the guards who started after him. ''No, let him go. If he

wants to leave, let him leave. This isn't over, but there's no point in destroying the place.

Again.''

That got a weak wave of nervous chuckles. Some of the Wardens out there looked as if they

were suffering a PTSD moment; I completely sympathized. This was turning out to be less

theatrical and more gut-wrenching than I'd ever intended, but I supposed that was a good thing,

ultimately. It's for his own protection, I reminded myself. If the Sentinels can't buy his defection

after that, it can't be done.

But I was going to have a hell of a lot of fence-mending to do. And I felt filthy inside, as if I'd

dragged my soul through a sewer.

Lewis took my hand, out of sight behind the podium, and squeezed. He knew what I was feeling.

I moved back to let him get to the microphone, and he said something to close the meeting. . . . I

wasn't really listening. I was staring at the smoking, destroyed doorway where Kevin had made

his grand exit.

God, please, watch out for him, I thought. If anything happens to him . . .

Lewis must have finished, because in the next moment people were getting up in the auditorium,

chattering excitedly, making their way toward the exits. And Lewis put his hand at the small of

my back, guiding me off into the shadows at the back of the stage, where he whispered, ''I think

it was all right.''

''Brutal,'' I said. My voice sounded strange. ''I didn't want to put him through that.''

''He signed up, Jo. It's something he wants to do. Let him be a hero for once.''

''Yeah, well, it's hard to just stand by and watch.''

''No kidding,'' he said, and smiled a narrow, bitter smile. ''How the hell do you think the rest of

us feel about watching you?''

I got a lot of ''That was uncalled for!'' supportive comments on the way out, but not quite as

many as I'd expected; the majority of Wardens seemed to want to stay out of the line of fire.

Couldn't really blame them for that; most of them had reason to be gun-shy.

What bothered me was the significant number who seemed to be huddled together whispering in

the halls, who fell silent when I came near. I felt stares on me all the time. A few nodded, but it

didn't feel like support. None of them were my friends, and most of them were people I knew

only by reputation. Were they Sentinels? Potential recruits? No way I could tell, but it made the

back of my neck itch.

Lewis escorted me to the elevators, staying protectively close. We'd agreed that David should

stay away for this part; it would have been harder with him in the room. So Lewis was taking his

bodyguarding duties seriously, even in the relatively secure confines of the Warden's own halls.

''You really think somebody's going to try to take me out here, with all these Wardens around?''

I asked, as we waited for the elevator to arrive. He had his hand on my arm, and he didn't smile.