Gale Force

''I don't know,'' I said. ''The plan was to force them out in the open so we could identify them.

That seems to be working pretty well.''

''It wasn't just the wedding,'' Kevin said. ''All the shiny pieces were here, right? Ashan? The

Oracles?''

Yeah, as if I'd actually pla

themselves. ''

''So you got him. The old guy.'' He meant Bad Bob. I didn't answer. I poured another shot glass

of tequila and downed it.

''You might want to leave,'' I said. ''Because this isn't over.''

Both Kevin and Cherise looked taken aback, looking around at the calm, orderly luxury of the

penthouse. Out at sea, the storms were dissipating; there was still tension in the tectonic plates,

but it was being bled off in harmless ways by the Earth Wardens. The Ma'at were all over the

whole balancing problem. It all looked . . . calm.

''Leave,'' I said, even more softly. I poured two shot glasses and put the bottle aside. ''Go

now.''

Kevin grabbed Cherise's hand and dragged her, still protesting, toward the door. I didn't raise

my head to watch them go. I stayed focused on the silvery glitter of the alcohol in crystal, and

when I heard the door click shut, I said, ''You might as well show yourself. I know you're

here.'' I could feel his presence now. I couldn't believe how it felt-how cold, how empty.

I heard the chuckle, and it was so familiar, so damned familiar it burned. I tried hard not to

shudder, tried to keep my head up and my back straight. ''Tequila, '' Bad Bob said. ''Always

thought you were a scotch girl, Jo.''

''I am,'' I said. ''But I remember you always had a taste for the stuff.'' I took a shot glass and

turned, holding it out.

Sure enough, on the other side of the room, Bad Bob stood watching me. He was wearing a

tuxedo, too, or half of one, anyway; the pants were formal, the shirt untucked, the tie loosened.

No coat. His suspenders were in a garish rainbow that brought to mind the early oeuvre of Robin

Williams.

''Like it?'' He snapped the suspenders with his thumbs. ''Thought I'd help you celebrate the

happy day. And it's a happy day, isn't it? You and David, all cozy and bound up together, till

death do you part.'' Bad Bob gri

I levitated it across to him. He laughed and snatched it out of the air, threw it back, and blew the

shot glass into powder in midair with a random burst of power.

''You know what I am, don't you?'' he asked. He continued to grin, relentless as a shark, and

ambled slowly around the room, poking and touching things at random. ''You know why I'm so

set on getting you.''

''I know,'' I said. ''I've killed three of you so far.''

That snapped his head around fast, and the grin turned bloody in its intensity. ''Don't flatter

yourself,'' he said. ''You used our own against us twice. That doesn't even count. Any fool

Warden could have done it. But the last-ah, the last one was special. She was mine.''

''I didn't think the Demons had family.''

''I didn't say she was family; I said she was mine. I created her; I cultivated her. I set her on you.

And you stood there and watched her die.'' His smile twitched insanely. ''Poetic justice, I

suppose, your Dji

Never been much for poetry, myself.'' He stretched out a hand. The bottle of tequila left the bar

and arrowed across the room to smack into his palm. He swallowed one mouthful, then two, and

licked his lips. ''Down to us, isn't it?''

''Is it?'' I cocked my head and smiled back at him, trying to be as winter cold as he. ''So what're

you going to do, Bob? The Dji

restraints they used to have. You can't command them. You can't trick them. And you damn sure

can't scare them anymore. The Wardens know you now, and the ones who thought the idea of

the Sentinels made sense are learning better, fast. You can't threaten to go public. What's left?''

''Same thing that's always left, girly-girl.'' He shrugged. ''Death, horror, destruction. No matter

how good you are, you can't stop it all. I'll push you until you break, you, the Wardens, the

Dji

''You don't think coming here was a mistake?'' I asked. '' 'Cause I have to admit, ballsy. Not

real smart, but ballsy.''

''Oh, I'll be gone well before help arrives,'' he said. ''Might surprise you, but I can do the Dji

thing now-blip around through the aetheric. Handy when you want to visit old, suspicious

friends.''

I felt the atmosphere shift, slide toward the darker spectrums. ''Okay. Nice to see you, Bob.

Now, fuck off.''

''I always did love your sharp tongue,'' he said. ''I'm not going to fight you today. Be a shame

to destroy that dress.'' The bastard winked at me. ''No, I'll just go home, play with my new

friends. You know them, I'll bet: Rahel, that rascal, pretending to be all soft and human like that.

Oh, and my new friend. Someone very special.''

He reached into the shadows, and he pulled out my daughter.

Imara stumbled and fell to her knees, the brick-red dress she normally wore now fluttering and

writhing around her. He'd bound her up with black ropes of twisting, glittering power, and where

they touched her, they burned. No, I thought numbly. Impossible. She was safe; she was taken

back to the chapel; Ashan was guarding her. . . .

''Ashan never did like this one,'' he said. ''Figures on appointing a new Earth Oracle in short

order. Nice friends you have. Maybe you ought to reconsider which side of this you're on, girl;

what do you think?''

I lunged for Imara and slammed into a barrier, one that blew me back across the room to slam

full force into the glass tiles of the bar. I saw stars and darkness, and sank to an awkward sitting

position on the floor, surrounded by fallen shards of mirror.

''Oh, don't fuss. She's not really here. Just thought I'd give you fair warning, because it's going

to hurt you a whole lot worse than it hurts me when I do get around to taking your kid.''

''Stop,'' I said. I felt light-headed, sick, hot. I no longer felt in the least invulnerable. ''What do

you want?''

''I want to make a deal,'' Bad Bob said. ''Your daughter's life for David's. Fair trade.''

''No.'' I snarled it. ''You don't even have her, you bastard; you already said so!''

''I said I don't have her now. Not that I wouldn't have her by the time your little rescue party

fails to take me out. Sorry, kid,'' he said to Imara's image. ''Mommy doesn't love you all that

well, looks like. Too bad, you're a cutie.''

He showed me what he was going to do to her, to my child, and I didn't look away. I wanted to,

desperately, but something in me that was far colder, far wiser than my heart made me stay

strong.

''When I'm finished,'' he said, in a whisper as black as the Unmaking itself, ''then I'll reach

through her to destroy you. But not before. I want you to feel every moment of it, Joa

. . . single . . . moment.''

The Wardens and the Dji

the flare of power outside the doors; they were out there, but Bad Bob was keeping them shut

out. He could do that. He had power to burn . . . but he wasn't doing it alone. I recognized the

signature behind it.

Ashan. Ashan was still interfering, throwing up barriers, trying to get me killed. He'd consider