Gale Force

notice I didn't mention what David looked like.''

No, she hadn't. That wasn't exactly like her.

''You'll see,'' she said smugly.

There was a discreet knock on the door, and one of the incredibly intimidating security

gentlemen stuck his head in to nod at Cherise.

Time to go.

''I don't think we should do this,'' I said.

But I let her lead me out, anyway.

I was taken through deserted hallways, feeling more and more isolated and surreal with every

moment. Was this how most brides felt, or only those with targets painted on their chests? Hard

to say. I just tried to swallow the growing, acrid lump of dread in my throat, and followed the

confident shimmy of Cherise's stride.

Holding open doors, hotel staff smiled at me as I passed. I had no idea where we were going, so

it was a surprise when the last set of doors opened on blinding sunlight. The strains of a highly

accomplished string quartet-good enough to overcome the barrier of surf noise, conversation,

and humidity's effect on wood and strings-hung luminously in the air. It was an absolutely

perfect day. The sky was a breathtaking ceramic blue, washed clean of all imperfections.

I felt so much dread that I was afraid my knees would collapse underneath me. They'll hit us.

They can't not hit us. And there were so many people to protect. So many people I couldn't

swear wouldn't be hurt in this.

Cherise squeezed my hand one last time and said, ''Stay fierce, Jo. We'll get through this.'' And

then she moved through the rose-covered archway, taking the arm of a tall, elegant man who I

only after the fact realized was Lewis. A drastically different Lewis. Smoking hot, in fact. She

was right: He was made for formal wear. The severe black-and-white tailoring made him look

extraordinary.

I fidgeted slightly, clutching the small, perfect bouquet of ivory roses that Cherise had handed

me, and the security men on either side of me sca

Wardens, Wardens everywhere, waiting. If the Sentinels were coming, they were coming into the

teeth of the buzz saw.

If the Wardens watching me aren't undercover Sentinels . . . I had to leave that terrifying thought

behind. It was too much.

I knew mere security wouldn't stop Bad Bob, or the thing that was wearing his face. The bigger

the clash, the bigger the boom; he'd love to smash us here, in this most public of settings.

The string quartet shifted into the traditional bridal march, and the security man offered me his

arm. He looked good in a tux, too. A little beefy, but you really wanted that in a quality

bodyguard.

We passed under the arch and began the long, long walk down the rose-petal-strewn path to the

graceful, arched gazebo.

For some reason, I hadn't thought about who'd be here. Mostly Wardens, of course, mostly

friends. Cherise had even managed to get some of our old TV station colleagues here at the last

minute, including some of the crew, who were looking highly uncomfortable in their suits and

jackets, but were beaming at me in universal accord.

In the front row was my sister. Sarah looked elegant, perfectly coiffed, and terribly pissed off.

She was glaring hard at Cherise, and if looks could kill, there would have been a warrant out for

her arrest. In fact, now that I thought about it, I was a little surprised there wasn't a warrant out

for Sarah. She'd scammed a lot of money, and if her old boyfriend (psycho but strangely honest)

was to be believed, she'd been one step short of Master Criminal status. I hadn't pla

inviting her, but in retrospect, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that she'd shown up

anyway. If there was any chance of notoriety coming from the day, she'd be right in front to tell

her story to the cameras about growing up with the Freak.

I forgot all about that momentary stab of distraction, because Lewis moved aside, and David

turned to look at me, and the world just . . . stopped.

I knew why Cherise hadn't said anything about how David looked. There simply weren't words

in the human language to describe his vividness, his presence, his-his beauty. He was wearing a

tuxedo, very much like the one Lewis was modeling so effectively, but no matter how flattering

the clothes, it was David, and David's essence, that blazed forth in that moment.

I saw it clearly: all his love, all his hope, all his commitment. He was immortal, and this was no

act for him, no temporary amusement. I'd been told Dji

crystalline moment, I knew.

It felt like a dream. I extended my hand-no longer trembling-and his fingers closed around it,

drawing me to his side. I felt the aura fold around me, warmer than sunlight, and the euphoria

was like nothing I had ever felt.

Somewhere, the minister was speaking. I had no idea what kind of service Cherise had cobbled

together on the spur of the moment, and I didn't care; the words didn't matter. I understood why

David had asked this of me now; I understood so much more than I'd ever thought I would. It

wasn't just words.

It was a vow. And vows among the Dji

gathering, as the words progressed; I could see the shimmer spreading through the aetheric.

The minister had gotten to the heart of the matter. ''Do you, David, take this woman as your only

true lover, now and for her lifetime, forsaking all others, in sickness and in health, in wealth and

in poverty, in hardship and in joy?''

I saw the aetheric flare hot gold, so much power gathering, more than I'd ever seen, and David

opened his mouth to reply. . . .

''No,'' said a new voice, before he could reply. ''He doesn't.''

Ashan had crashed our wedding.

Chapter Fourteen

The power on the aetheric went wild, currents flowing around us like whirlpools, lashing and

foaming in distress. David and I turned together and saw Ashan standing behind us. From the

forbidding expression on his face, I was guessing he hadn't brought us any wedding gifts, or at

least none that wouldn't explode.

''I can't allow this folly,'' Ashan said. ''Maybe you truly believe this is right, but we can't take

the chance. You expose us all to slavery, David, not just yourself. No.''

The minister looked justifiably bewildered, and not just by the sudden popping in of supernatural

guests. I was thinking his brain had skipped right over that part. The human race was absolutely

stellar at plausible deniability. ''But I haven't asked for any objections, '' he said faintly. ''We

don't do that anymore. Really, this is most-''

Ashan ignored him. Ignored me, too. He was focused only on David, and if David was a glorious

bright star, burning with potential, Ashan was his polar opposite: leached of color; pale as an

undertaker; grim as impending death. He was even wearing black-a severe suit, with a black tie

paired with a white shirt. His idea of formal attire, I guessed. It might have even passed, if it

hadn't been for the bitter expression and the cold, cold fire in his teal-blue eyes.

''You have no place here,'' David said. I felt the power of the Earth rising up in him, rich and

thick and irresistible; Ashan was a Conduit, yes, but this was David's territory, David's home

ground, in a sense. Ashan was an intruder, uninvited and unwelcome. ''Leave us.''

Ashan slowly shook his head. ''I don't come for myself,'' he said. ''I come for all of us, to ask.

Don't do this, David. Don't destroy us again, for your personal satisfaction.''