Gale Force

was efficient. He fought, but he was contained with a minimum of effort.''

If you knew Kevin, this was ominously impressive. ''Sentinels?''

''I can't think of anyone else with the strength and the motivation,'' David said. ''The thing is,

they did this while they were hitting us. Which implies-''

''A whole lot of organization,'' I finished. ''Not to mention power to burn.''

We looked at each other for a long moment, and I finally started up the car again. ''It's too late

to change our minds, isn't it?''

''I'm afraid so. The game's in motion now, and we have to follow the play. I dispatched Roy to

follow at a safe distance; he should report back when Kevin and Cherise reach a final

destination. I don't think they'll be taken far.''

''Meanwhile?''

He reached out and traced his thumb over my lips. ''Meanwhile, we should find a place to stay

that's far from i

''Yep.'' I put the Mustang in gear and pulled out of the parking lot, merging with the rain and

traffic. ''But you're not going to like it.''

I'd been right, and wrong. David wasn't wild about the beach house-which belonged to the

Wardens, and was normally used to host visiting dignitaries– because it was long on ocean

views and short on actual security. He also wasn't crazy about staying in a location where most

of the Wardens would guess we'd go, but I wanted to continue to provide some kind of attractive

target for the Sentinels. Anything to give Kevin time.

At least here, the beach was private, we were nowhere close to neighbors, and if the Sentinels

decided to lower the boom on us, they'd do a minimum of collateral damage.

The rain stopped about the time I pulled up in the private drive, opened the massive metal gates

with a pulse of Fire Warden power, and drove inside. The entrance was heavily landscaped,

mainly with palms and leafy bushes to conceal the grounds from prying eyes. It looked like the

sort of place a midlevel, once-all-powerful Hollywood player would stay to get away from it all.

I made sure the gates shut behind us, and followed the winding narrow road around the curves

until the white beach house emerged at the end. It was a neat little bungalow, big enough for a

few people to stay out of each other's way, but not a place for massive entertainments unless you

wanted to get full-body contact. I'd last been here back in my former boss Bad Bob

Biringanine's time; he'd used it to house visitors to the Florida territory, and it was, in fact, the

very place he'd performed his historic act of heroism in shaving vital strength out of Hurricane

Andrew. If he hadn't, I doubted most of the state would have survived its landfall.

I hadn't thought of Bad Bob in a long time, but it seemed like his ghost walked over my grave at

that moment; I almost felt his presence, strong and astringent, charming and bad tempered.

Corrupt, but hiding it well. Of all the things I couldn't forgive Bad Bob for-and one of them

had led to massive damages, once upon a time-I thought the worst was that he'd known what

Kevin's stepmother was, what kind of perversions she enjoyed, and he'd allowed her to continue.

Worst of all, he'd given her David to play with as her own personal sex toy.

David sat in silence, looking at the beach house. If I hadn't known him so well, I'd have thought

he had no reaction at all. I reached over and took his hand, and his gaze shifted toward mine.

''I know,'' I said. ''I'm sorry, it's the best place.

All right?''

''I'm fine,'' he said. He wasn't, but he also wasn't ready to let me see that wound. He was all

courtesy, opening my car door for me, handing me out, walking me up the steps to the front

door. ''Keys?''

It didn't need one. I extended my hand, the one with the Warden symbol invisibly etched into the

skin, and heard the lock click over. I opened the door, and the smell of the place washed over

me, bringing with it another rush of memories as I stepped inside. Bad Bob hadn't been gone

long enough for his imprint to completely fade from this place; I swore I smelled the ghost of his

cigar smoke, before the more powerful odor of musty carpeting and furniture took over. The

house needed a full-scale cleaning. Something to keep me busy, I supposed.

David hadn't followed me inside. I turned toward him and saw that he'd put out a palm, which

was spread flat against an invisible barrier. As I watched, he moved his hand from side to side. I

could see his skin flattening as it came into contact with . . . something.

''What is it?'' I moved back to the threshold and waved my hand through the air. No barrier. I

could even make contact with David's hands, but I couldn't pull him through. ''What the hell . . .

?''

''Wards,'' he said. ''Set to keep Dji

inside.''

Wards-magical boundaries-were an exclusive specialty of Earth Wardens, and they were

usually fiendishly difficult to unravel. They could be set to exclude anything the Warden

designed it to exclude– Dji

and even specific individuals.

I was, theoretically, an Earth Warden, but I hadn't exactly been trained in the finer points. It was

on the to-do list, but from all that I understood, breaking wards was definitely a graduate-level

course. Maybe even postdoctoral. ''Any idea who put this up?'' I asked. Not Bad Bob, at least;

he was purely and completely a Weather Warden. But he'd had a lot of friends, and most of them

had been . . . questionable.

''Yes, but it won't do you any good. He's dead. Bad Bob had me kill him.''

The matter-of-fact way that David said it made me freeze for a second, and not just in the not-

moving sense. ''You . . . killed for him.''

''I had no choice at the time.''

''I know that. I just didn't know-'' I shook my head. ''I'm so sorry, David. He had no right.''

David said nothing to that; he clearly wanted to drop the subject, and I obliged by focusing on

the structure of the wards holding him outside the door. They were strongly made, and if they'd

survived the death of their maker, they were independently fueled by some source. If I could

locate the source, I could disable the wards-like pulling the battery. Problem was, a good Earth

Warden (and this one had been very, very good) could imbue nearly anything with aetheric

energy and set it on a slow, steady discharge. It could be something as i

hidden in the back of the pantry, or as obvious as a big switch labeled TURN OFF WARDS

HERE.

I systematically examined the house and its contents on the aetheric, looking for any telltale

sparks, but nothing became obvious. David was unable to give me any pointers; the Earth

Warden who'd created the wards had also done a damn fine job of erasing any tracks the Dji

could use to identify the control mechanism.

This left us at a standstill, ultimately. I couldn't break the wards. David couldn't enter.

''Okay, bad idea,'' I sighed, then shut the front door and sat down with David on the steps. A

cool breeze was blowing in off the ocean, and we sat for a while watching the surf roll in.

''Maybe it's a good thing we couldn't get you inside. I know there must be– echoes.''

''Not as many as there were at Yvette's house, but yes, the history's very close to the surface

here,'' David said. He sounded remote and cool, as if he'd withdrawn into himself for protection.

''I'd rather not stay, if we can find somewhere else to go.''