Gale Force

midnight blue, and when he put it on, the salespeople gave a collective sigh and snapped

pictures. He turned toward me, eyebrows raised, a slight flush in his cheeks.

I've made a Dji

to make him blush more, in private, later.

Some part of me, during all this public playacting, kept monitoring the aetheric for any signs of

Sentinel activity. Nothing. It was dead quiet, weirdly so. Maybe I really had given them a shock

with not dying on cue.

I started to pay for the clothes, but David slipped a wallet from his pocket and pulled out a jet-

black American Express card. I caught a look at the name as he handed it over.

DAVID CYRUS PRINCE.

David knew what I was thinking, and he met my eyes briefly, then smiled at the salesclerk and

signed the credit card receipt. We left the store with his old clothes and shoes in a bag. I couldn't

stop stealing glances at him, darkly gorgeous as he was; every woman we passed, young or old,

plain or model-in-training, gave him an involuntary stare.

''That,'' he said, ''was a waste of time. I could have just manifested the clothes, if you'd shown

me what you wanted me to wear.''

''The point is to be seen,'' I reminded him. ''Besides, buying clothes is something humans do.

You want to be human, right?''

''Right.'' His lips quirked, and he tried to suppress a smile. ''That's the first time I've ever

purchased clothing, you know. For myself.''

''It's good to stretch,'' I assured him. ''Mr. Prince.''

The two of us strolled through the warm, humid morning. My dress rippled and flowed in the

ocean breezes, my hair looked fantastic, my shoes were kicking ass, and I had the most beautiful

man I'd ever seen on my arm.

Still, I was constantly looking for a knife headed for my back. Our backs.

Nothing.

We shopped all morning, then ate lunch in a cafe next to the ocean. I could see that David was

settling into his new look, which pleased me; I had the feeling that Dji

reluctantly. He couldn't help but notice the attention he was attracting, and unless Dji

whole lot less like humans than I suspected, attention wasn't unwelcome.

Otherwise, he wouldn't choose to be so gorgeous to start with.

Over chicken salad and iced teas, he asked me about our afternoon plans. I proposed more

shopping. He counterproposed other things, which I confess sounded more interesting, but I'd

pledged to keep to my timeline.

I really needed to find that wedding dress.

So after lunch, we went to Zola Keller, and I started the arduous task of trying on thousand-

dollar-and-up couture. Which is not nearly as much of a hardship as you might think. I went

through twelve styles, none of them quite right, and then . . .

And then it happened.

The moment the clerk unzipped the bag, I just knew. As the weight of the Italian silk settled

around me, I knew even more. When she laced the back and prepped me for the mirror, I knew

I'd found exactly what would drive David wild.

Unlike most wedding gowns, this was no Disney princess knockoff; it was sophisticated, subtle,

sexy. Layers of silk dropped in subtle angles from the low-cut bodice, but it in no way resembled

any kind of wedding cake. The fabric rippled in silk waves, layer upon layer, sweeping into a

fantastic train.

But the back was what did it-a laced corset, fitted to show a deep, sexy V of skin down the

spine beneath the lacings. It was demure enough, but I could sense, like a vibration on the

aetheric, that it would drive him absolutely mad.

''I'll take it,'' I said. The clerk raised both eyebrows.

''Don't you want to know-''

''If you tell me the price, I'll chicken out, so no. I don't want to know. Just ring it up.''

She cleared her throat. ''I really think I should warn you about the cost-''

''You really shouldn't,'' I sighed.

The Warden AmEx was about to get a serious workout. Even though she was undoubtedly

making a commission, my saleslady looked concerned for the state of my financial future. As

well she should. If it cost anywhere near what it looked, I was going to be paying approximately

the cost of a new car.

She fussed around with the dress, looking for necessary alterations and marking them. A

thorough professional. We discussed indoor versus outdoor, potential hazards of having a court

train to manage, and other things that I couldn't imagine ever discussing again in my entire life.

But it was done. I had a dress. And it was the dress.

I walked out of the dressing room feeling happier than I had in weeks, trailing the salesclerk like

a lady's maid. I was smiling widely, anticipating the pleasant shock of seeing David in his still-

new finery, and I wasn't disappointed; he was sitting sprawled on a velvet couch, looking ready

for a fashion shoot. Women were finding reasons to shop in his vicinity. I couldn't really blame

them.

''Done,'' I said serenely.

''Really? That was fast.'' It wasn't, but he was being kind. He kissed me, and that was very nice,

especially when, as he pulled back, he whispered in my ear, ''I want to take you home now.''

''Let me mortgage my future first.''

I don't think a sale ever went through faster. In fact, I didn't even notice the total amount as I

signed the slip.

And then, of course, everything went wrong.

David sensed it first, by a couple of seconds; he looked up sharply, all the ease and humor

draining away from him, and his hand closed around mine in an iron grip. He wasn't letting us

be separated again, not this time.

''What is it?'' I asked, or tried to. I never got to the last word. David pointed to the world beyond

the glass windows.

The clouds were thickening so fast overhead that it looked like special effects from the most

expensive disaster movie ever made.

I turned my focus out to sea, out to that calm and tranquil sea. There were no hurricanes brewing

there, only the normal cycle of thunderstorms that needed no Warden regulation.

But someone was tampering with the clouds, forcing energy into a stable system-taking a

standard garden-variety thunderstorm, which hadn't even really been threatening rain until later,

and packing it with energy until it was a mesocyclone. I'd seen it done, but never this fast, never

with so little to work with. The Sentinels were creating an emergency, and doing it so quickly

that it made my whole body shiver with the corona effect of the power. Lightning ripped through

the sky, blue-white and purple, and struck three times that I could see, blowing up transformers,

destroying a metal light pole, stabbing into the lightning at-tractors on a building only two blocks

away.

People began to react nervously.

Outside the windows, I saw the classic formation take shape: anvil cloud, hard and gray as lead;

cloud striations below, showing the shredding forces at work; wall cloud pushing rapidly toward

us, forming and hardening as it came.

An occlusion downdraft was taking shape, leading the forces into a spi

I felt the forces coalescing, and turned my face upward as I rose into the aetheric.

Yep. Tornado. Right over the store.

David was right with me. We rose up into the boiling storm of opposing forces. I couldn't see the

perpetrator; there was too much confusion, too much random energy masking his presence, but I

sensed he was here, watching. Waiting.

The tornado was a trap, but it was one I couldn't help but spring. It was dipping down out of the