Ill Wind

Ill Wind

The Weather Warden series, book 1

Rachel Caine

To those who inspire:

My husband, Cat (always), and to my dear friends

Pat Elrod, Kelley Walters, Gle

To those who believe:

Everybody in ORAC (you know who you are!) and my friends at LSGSC

To those who made it happen:

Lucie

To my musical inspiration:

Joe Bonamassa

And finally, to the one who taught me to love the storm as much as the calm:

Timothy Bartz Rest softly, my dear. This one's for you.

Thunder is good, thunder is impressive;

but it is the lightning that does the work.

— Mark Twain

Excerpt from Owning Your First Dji

By granting you the possession of one of the Association's Dji

Dji

Do

• Use your Dji

• Guard your Dji

Don't

• Manifest your Dji

• Abuse your Dji

• Break your Dji

Arcane Rules

• Once Dji

• Dji

• Never ask a Dji

Etiquette

You may begin to develop a certain fondness for your Dji

Technical Support

If you have questions about the day-to-day administration of your Dji

ONE

Cloudy and cool, with an 80 percent possibility of moderate to severe thunderstorms by mid-afternoon.

Well, thank God this is about to be over, I thought as I drove—well, blew—past the sign that marked the Westchester, Co

Okay, so I was a little too optimistic. Also unrealistic, since me and normal have never really been on speaking terms. But, in my defense, I needed all the optimism I could muster right then. I'd been ru

First, I had to find the guy who was going to save my life.

I found the exit, navigated streets and a

I tapped chipped fingernails on the steering wheel, weighed risks and benefits, and finally popped open the door and stepped out of the car.

The euphoria I'd felt when I was pulling into town vanished as soon as my feet hit solid ground, crushed under a load of exhaustion. Too much stress, too little sleep, too much fear. Speaking of fear… I felt wind on the back of my neck, and I turned to look east. A storm loomed like purple mountains' majesty, big cumulonimbus clouds piled on top of each other like a fifty-car interstate pileup. I could feel it noticing me, in the way storms had. No question about it, I needed to be out of Westchester before that thing decided to pounce. I'd been watching storms crawl along the coast, paralleling me all the way from Florida. The nasty part was that it might actually be the same storm, stalking me.

They did that sometimes. It was never good.

Nothing I could do about it right now. I had bigger issues. Up the concrete walk, up three steps lined with geraniums in terra-cotta pots, to a spacious white front door. I knocked and waited, rocking back and forth on three-inch heels that felt like something from the spring collection of the Spanish Inquisition. Bad pla

Silence. I cupped my hands around my eyes and tried to peer through glass not designed for peering. No movement inside that I could see. With a sinking feeling of disaster, I realized I'd never considered the possibility that my knight in shining armor could be away from the castle.

I knocked on his door once more, squinted through the glass again, and tried the bell. I heard muffled tones echoing through the house, but nothing stirred. The house looked normal.

Normal and very, very empty.

Out where I was, Westchester was enjoying spring sunshine. People walked, kids whooped around on bikes, dogs ran with their tongues hanging out. Inside the house, there was winter silence. I checked the mail slot. Empty. Either he'd been home earlier, or he'd stopped his mail altogether. No papers on the lawn, either.

I considered my options, but really I had only two: get some idea of where else to look, or lie down and die. I decided to do some scouting. Unfortunately, the grass was damp, and my three-inch heels weren't designed for pathfinding. With some cursing and tripping and excavating myself from spike-heeled holes, I clumped around the house.