Thin Air (12 page)

A burly shape, well muffled in winter gear, hopped out of the passenger door, ducked the way people instinctively do when there's sharp metal chopping the air just about head level, and hurried toward me through the snow. He shouted something to me that sounded like,
Need a ride?
which was fine with me.

I helped Lewis load Cherise and Kevin into the helicopter, and belted myself in for the rattling, noisy ride.

You're safe now
, I told myself.
It's all okay.

But I didn't really believe it.

 

If I'd ever been in a helicopter before, I didn't know it, but one thing was for certain: I sure didn't like it. The dull roar of the rotors never let me forget that those fragile blades were all that stood between this clanking metal insect and a catastrophic crash, and I shuddered to think about all of the things that could happen to all those very breakable parts involved, including my own.

It was also a rough trip, full of bounces, jounces, drops, sideways lurches, and other exciting contraventions of gravity. I kept my eyes squeezed shut, clung to the handhold strap, and pretended not to be scared out of my mind.

Lewis, next to me, was so relaxed I thought he might actually drop off into a nap. He held my hand—not a romantic gesture, and he must have regretted it when I periodically dug my nails into his skin in sheer terror. A gentleman born, he didn't pull away. On his other side perched Kevin, hunched in on himself like someone nursing a gut wound. His face was tight and looked years older than it had just minutes ago, even though Cherise was pressed against him like a winter coat. I felt inarticulately guilty, as if there were something I might have done.

The Demon looks like me.

Yeah, that made me feel guilty as hell, and there was nothing to be done about it. I had no idea what I'd say to any of them, when the decibel levels dropped enough to allow me to say anything at all.

A paramedic wrapped each of us in warm blankets, but since none of us had obvious bleeding wounds, that was the extent of our medical treatment. They gave us coffee, though, hot and strong out of a steel thermos. I was right. I did like coffee. Even black.

The helicopter, for pretty much the entire journey, was enveloped by low, dingy clouds, and updrafts and downdrafts battered us from side to side, up and down, until I felt as though the damn metal monster were a toy on a stretchy string. I don't know how long we were in the air; constant heart-crushing panic made it seem like forever, but it couldn't have been too long. When we dropped down below the clouds, right on top of a cleared landing area, I was weak-kneed with gratitude.

There were people waiting at the edge of the rotor backwash, holding their hats on if they had them. I didn't recognize anyone. I was getting used to that, but it didn't make me feel any more secure. My eyes skipped over them, looking for David, but he wasn't there.

And then my eyes moved back, because while I didn't recognize the tall black woman standing with her arms folded, staring at me, there was something familiar about her. She was striking. Her features were sharply patrician, her hair worn in a multitude of small braids, each one fastened by colorful beads. She wasn't trying to hide; that was obvious. She was wearing neon yellow, even down to the long, polished fingernails.

She disdained coats.

And her eyes, even at the distance of fifteen feet, flashed with a color that didn't look real, or human.

So, she was like David. A Djinn.

As we disembarked I poked Lewis in the side, avoiding his sore ribs, and nodded toward her. He looked a little less angry. “Rahel,” he said. “She's—”

“Djinn,” I said. “Yeah, I figured that. Friend or foe?”

“Depends on her mood.”

“Wonderful.”

Lewis turned to face me, blocking my path. “Jo…be careful,” he said. “I wanted to keep you safe and out of the way until we were sure we understood what was going on. I can't do that now.” He nodded toward the assembled people. “Most of them are Wardens. That doesn't necessarily make them on your side,” he said. “That's Paul; he's a friend. When we get to the group, stick with him if I have to take off for any reason. Paul will look after you.”

I nodded. “Anyone else I can trust?”

“That's Marion.” He nodded toward a woman in a wheelchair with long, gray-streaked blue-black hair worn in a thick braid. “I'd trust her with my life. In fact, I have. I'm going to hand Kevin off to her for—”

“No,” Kevin said flatly. His face was chalk-pale, but his eyes were angry. “No way. I'm not going anywhere.”

Lewis sighed. “You're not in any shape to—”

“I'm not some baby,” Kevin said. “I'm not gonna drop dead because I find out it's a cold, hard world out here. Fuck off, man. Nobody messes with my head. Especially not
her.
”

“Sure, big guy. Only if you can stand on your own,” Lewis said, and stepped away from him.

Kevin wavered, stumbled a little, glared, and stood on his own two feet.

Barely. But he managed.

“Well, guess you're stuck with him now,” I murmured. Lewis snorted, with a sharp edge of annoyance. “Couple of things before this gets crazy. First: Have you ever seen a Demon?”

“Yes,” Lewis said. His eyes went distant and dark. “Why?”

“What should I be looking for?”
And does it just automatically look like the person who's seen it? Please tell me that's the case.

“Usually they look like smears, dark shadows, but they can appear to be anything.”

“Human?” I hazarded.

He frowned. “Doubt it,” he said. “They can inhabit a human, but if they can assume a semblance, I've never heard of it. Why?”

I shrugged. Shrugs were fine things for avoiding issues. “Second thing: Do you think I can do what I did with Cherise—that memory thing—with other people?”

Lewis looked toward me sharply. “From them to you? I wouldn't try it. What you did was…wrong, Jo. You shouldn't have been able to, in the first place, and I've got no idea how it happened. Earth Warden skills take years of training, even for the basics. What you're trying to do…no. I wouldn't.”

We didn't have time for anything else. The Wardens, tired of waiting for us to come to them, were heading our way.

I was about to meet the family, and I was pretty sure I wasn't ready.

“Joanne's okay,” Lewis said loudly. A preemptive strike that halted at least four of them who had opened their mouths to comment or ask questions. “She's been through some trauma, and her memory's a little shaky right now, but she's going to be fine. So give her some room, guys.”

At least half of them looked irritated, and I wondered why. Maybe they hadn't wanted me to be found at all, or if so, maybe they'd expected me to be up to full strength and ready to dive right in to pull my share of the load. Hard to tell.

The Djinn, Rahel, had moved closer, too, and now those eyes were just plain eerie. A hot, metallic gold, with flecks of brass. Predatory eyes. She slowly drummed her neon-colored talons along her folded arms, and I couldn't tell what she was thinking.

Marion, in the wheelchair, was easier to read. She looked worried. And contemplative. And from the unfocused way she was examining me, she was doing that aetheric vision thing.

“Joanne,” she said. She was the first to smile at me. “It's so good to see you safe.” She held out her hand, and I shot Lewis a nervous glance. He nodded, so I took it and shook. Her skin felt warm, her grip firm. Her dark eyes held mine steadily. “I see you've had some hard times, but so have we all. It's good you're back with us again. We can use your strength.”

It was, at the very least, a public endorsement. Probably more than I could reasonably ask for. “Thanks,” I said. I had the feeling that I might not have been a friend, but at least there was respect between us. Respect, I could return. The others standing around were regarding me with varying expressions of wariness or hope, neither of which made me feel any too secure.

Marion's attention slid past me to focus on Kevin, and her expression changed to concern. “My God, Lewis, what happened to the boy? No, never mind. Not here. Let's get him to the clinic.” Her eyes passed over Cherise, then came back, and she frowned, puzzled. She looked sharply at Lewis, an open question on her face, and he shook his head.

“Later,” he said.

She pressed controls and wheeled the chair in a tight circle, leading the way to a small parked caravan of plain black sedans and vans. I started to follow.

The guy Lewis had pointed out as Paul caught my arm in a big, square hand and dragged me to a stop. “Not so fast, babe,” he rumbled. He had an East Coast accent, maybe Jersey, if I had to guess. Olive-toned skin, dark hair with flecks of gray, dark stubble showing even though I was sure he'd freshly shaved. “No welcome for me?”

“Paul,” I said, and he hugged me. Full-body. “Um, hi.” I resisted an urge to struggle, because he seemed to want to hold on a little too long for comfort.

“Kid, I thought you were gone,” he murmured, lips close to my ear. “Don't do that again, all right? You've given me plenty enough heart attacks already.” And then he pecked me on the cheek and backed away. The way he looked at me, I wondered…No, surely not. Surely I hadn't slept with
every
guy I knew.

“I-I'll try to be more careful,” I said. Awkward. I didn't know where I stood with this guy—kissing-close, obviously, but not much else. He was a little intimidating up close, which was funny, since I'd been spending time with Lewis and David, guys who
defined
intimidating. I swallowed and forced a smile. “I need to go with…” I mimed following Lewis. Paul studied me for a second, brows pulling together in a frown, and let go.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I was hoping…Yeah. You probably should get yourself looked at, too. Call when you're done, okay? We got to talk. Things to work out.”

I nodded, kept the smile going, and walked quickly after Lewis, who was helping Kevin and Cherise into the black cargo van, the one with the Handi-Lift on the back that was already lowering for Marion's wheelchair.

I didn't make it to join them. Another person stepped into my way, and I felt whatever nerves hadn't already been alarmed wake up and start screaming.

“A moment,” Rahel said softly, holding up one graceful, long-taloned hand between us. She looked at me, close range, and yes, Djinn eyes were frightening. Her expression stayed blank and still, and I hesitated, wondering whether or not to yell for help. Her eyes flicked past me, focusing on the Wardens behind me, and she reached out and took hold of my shoulder. “A moment of your time, my friend. I have been so concerned for you.” She didn't wait for agreement. She steered me sideways, away from the Wardens but also away from any potential rescue from Lewis. When I tried to pull back, her fingers dug deeper, and I hissed in pain. “Sistah, you come whether you like it or not,” she warned in a very low tone. “I have news for you, from David.”

The use of his name got me at least willing to listen. She kept hold of my shoulder, but loosened her grip so I wasn't in danger of deep-tissue bruising.

“I don't remember you,” I said. Seemed best to get it out of the way. “I'm sorry. It's…this problem I have.”

“I'm well aware,” she said. No smile at all, and her tone was dry and cool. “You shouldn't be here, Snow White. Not as you are, neither here nor there, living nor dead, human nor Warden. They think to bring you back. I think it is a foolish concept. It opens doors that are dangerous for us all.”

“Gee, thanks,” I said with no sincerity. “That's the news?”

She snorted. “Opinion. At least you haven't lost your sense of the absurd. David wishes me to tell you that he is on Ashan's trail, and for you to stay with Lewis.” Rahel smiled. She had pointed teeth. I mean, seriously.
Pointed
. “You know what happens to little lambs who wander from their herd.”

I yanked myself free this time. “Hey, Creep Show, save it for the cheap seats. Aren't you supposed to be on my side or something?”

She blinked, and I had the satisfaction of seeing a Djinn thrown just a half step off balance. It didn't last. “I am,” she said. “As your kind is measured, you're not insufferable, only infuriating. And…you loved the child. I count that in your favor.”

“Imara,” I said. “You're talking about Imara, right?”

Her expression composed itself to instant formality, and she tilted her head. Beads clicked as the braids slithered over her shoulders with a sound like dry paper shifting. “Ashan was fortunate the Oracle took him before we could reach him. Had he been in my hands, he'd still be screaming.”

Which was supposed to be comforting or something.

“Great,” I said faintly.

That made Rahel look up again, sharply. “You don't remember the child, either,” she said. “Do you?”

I started to lie about it, then shook my head. To my surprise, Rahel put her hand to my cheek in a gesture that was almost human. Almost affectionate.

“I can pity you for that. You will remember, though,” she said. “Such emptiness must be filled.”

And in a weird sort of way I suppose she
did
comfort me. A little. “Thanks,” I said. “I…Will you tell David I'll be with Lewis?”

“I will.” She stepped back. “Ashan is lucky once again. David would have hunted him and ripped him into nothing by now, had he not been distracted by concern for you. It appears he needs Ashan alive and functioning to try to fix what was done to you.” A slow, cool smile revealed even, white teeth. Nonpointed. “After his usefulness comes to an end, well, maybe David will organize an entertainment. We haven't had one of those for
ages.
” I was sure she meant it literally. The ages part, anyway. I shuddered to think what
entertainment
might mean.