Thin Air (13 page)

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Authors: Rachel Caine

BOOK: Thin Air
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“So David's okay, then,” I said.

She shrugged. “David's obsession with you puts his leadership of us in some doubt. But he remains the conduit to the Mother, and so may not be easily challenged. Still, he is not secure. His insistence on repairing what was done to you has been taken badly in some quarters.”

“Including your quarter?” I asked her, looking her right in the eerie eyes.

It was very quiet. I could hear the whine of the rotors powering down on the helicopter, the hiss of blowing snow, the engines starting in various SUVs around the landing area. I could hear my own heartbeat pounding fast.

“For my part,” Rahel finally said, “I should think the world less interesting without you, sistah. Take that as you wish.”

And she turned and walked away, misted into nothing, and was gone.

Wow.
Not sure how I felt about her, but I couldn't dislike her. Fear her, sure. Dislike her…no.

I hurried over to the black van, which was starting its engine, and piled into the back with Lewis, Kevin, Cherise, and Marion. Lewis slid the door shut with a solid thump, and whoever was driving—just a black silhouette against the dim gray sky—turned the van in a tight circle and headed out, bumping over uneven ground.

Marion let out a slow sigh. “That was about as civil as we might have expected,” she said. “Lewis, be careful. They're going to pull you aside and talk politics.”

“Politics? We've got time for politics?”

“There's always time for politics,” she said. “Something you never could grasp, I'm afraid.”

“What a load of bullshit. How's the rehab?” He gestured at the wheelchair.

“You know that Earth Wardens are always slower to heal themselves, and besides, there haven't been any shortage of victims to tend.” She shrugged. “I'll be all right. Another month, maybe two. I'd have been walking already if I'd had the time to devote to it, but we've been a little busy. As you've probably heard.”

“Guessed,” Lewis said. “Between the remnants of the California fire, the earthquake in Kansas City, and the hurricane in North Carolina—”

“We've been stretched thin,” Marion agreed. “Not just here in the U.S., of course. Latin America's having a hell of a time. Even Canada's being pummeled. Europe's an icebox, Africa's an out-of-season swamp, Asia's got all of the above, and Australia and New Zealand keep flipping from summer to winter from one day to the next.”

“Great. Anybody
not
having a climate shift?”

“Middle East,” she said. “But they have other problems. So. You going to explain to me what I'm looking at here?”

“What do you think you're looking at?” Lewis asked.

Marion gave him a hard look. “Save the rhetorical method; I'm not in the mood. Him—that's Demon damage, obviously. Fixable, but we need to get him to a clinic for treatment.”

“No such things as Demons,” Lewis said. Which confused me, until she smiled.

“Indeed not. And so we're still telling people. So, you believe this one has hatched out? Is an adult?”

“Yes.”

“Any idea where it could be?”

“Back where we came from, most likely, but specifically? No.”

Marion shook her head and frowned absently at the rolling forest scenery beyond the van's windows. “Not good. We don't have a way to detect or track it.”

“What about Garson?” Lewis asked. “He's the best at—”

“Garson's dead,” she interrupted. “Killed by his own Djinn during the initial attack. Every adept we had who was capable of tracking or identifying Demons, or Demon Marks, is dead or incapacitated, except me. And believe me, I'm being damn careful.”

“Specifically targeted?”

“Well, it's worse than our usual rotten luck,” Marion said. “You can't detect them, can you?”

Lewis shook his head. “If I'd been able to, maybe we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place,” he said. “I'd have smelled it on Star when she first came after me two years ago.”

Marion's dark almond-shaped eyes narrowed. “Estrella? I never got the full story from you about that.”

“And you won't now,” he said easily. “Old news. Let's talk about what we're going to do about this.”

“Well, the Djinn aren't of any practical use anymore. A few might help us out, if they're feeling generous and we're feeling lucky. But I wouldn't count on them.” She looked deeply troubled about that. “I never liked the servile system they operated under, but it's going to take some time to get used to their freedom. Time for us, as well as them.”

“The Ma'at can help out with that,” Lewis said. “Their system is based on cooperation, not the coercion the Wardens used in dealing with the Djinn. I'll get them in touch with you.” To me, he said, “Separate organization, the Ma'at. They've been working to create balance between Wardens, humans, and the world around us.”

“Trust me, it sounds more high-minded than it is in practice,” Marion said. She seemed annoyed. “I always meant to ask, are the Ma'at your creation? Because their manifesto has that just-out-of-school, disillusioned, fight-the-power feel to it, and only someone young could come up with something so idealistic. And base it in
Las Vegas
.”

Lewis shrugged. “Doesn't matter who formed it, or how. What matters is that it works.”

“Sometimes,” she shot back. “Guess what? The Wardens work sometimes, too.”

“Less and less often. You have to admit that.”

The van reached a freeway, and the ride turned smooth as glass. The van rocked slightly in wind gusts, but for the most part we sped along so easily we might have been flying. I began to feel just a little safer.
Safer?
some part of me mocked.
You think a little thing like distance is going to matter? When are you going to mention that the Demon looks like you?

Later, apparently.

“I'll talk to them,” Marion was reluctantly saying. “It's possible the Ma'at have Demon trackers. I'll see what we can horse-trade for the privilege.”

“One other thing,” Lewis said. “I want you to check Joanne over thoroughly when we get to the clinic.”

Marion raised an eyebrow and glanced at me, as if she'd forgotten I was there, clinging to a handhold and swaying to the hiss of the van's tires. “For?”

“Anything. Everything.” His face was closed and suddenly unreadable. “I found her in the forest, half-dead from the cold. Naked.”

“Naked,” Marion repeated. “Any injuries?”

“Nothing frostbite couldn't explain.”

“You checked—”

“Of course I checked. But you're better at that kind of thing.” He shrugged slightly, shoulders hunched. “Maybe I don't know what to look for. Or I didn't want to find it. I was under a little bit of pressure. And she's displayed some…unusual effects.”

His voice was as dry as sand on that one, and I remembered David bouncing him like a basketball. Yeah, a little bit of pressure. And
unusual effects
didn't much cover what I'd been able to do to bring Cherise back from the nearly dead.

“I'll do a thorough scan,” Marion said. “Anything else?”

Lewis raised his head to lock eyes with me for a second, then said, “Yeah, actually. I'd like you to test her for the emergence of Earth abilities.”

“Thought you might,” Marion said, and leaned back in her wheelchair. Her smile was full and yet not very comforting. “I can feel some change in her latent abilities. One of you was bad enough. I have no idea what we'll do with two of you.”

 

The clinic was a modest-sized place up a winding road in the hills, and I'd have frankly mistaken it for anything but a medical facility. It looked rustic, but industrial in its square shape. Couldn't have been intended for long-term care, at least, not for many patients.

The faded, paint-chipped sign on the building said,
WARDEN HEALTH INSTITUTE, EXTENSION
12. There were four cars in the small parking lot, and the van made it five as the still-unseen driver pulled in and parked under the whispering shade of a large pine. It was cold outside—my breath fogged on the window—but the overcast sky was breaking up, and the snow had stopped. I saw wisps of blue through the clouds.

“Need help?” Lewis asked Marion. She shook her head as the rear doors popped open, and the Handi-Lift's operation was engaged to move her and the wheelchair safely out and down. The rest of us disembarked the old-fashioned way. The snow here was only a couple of inches deep, and melting fast on the parking lot's warmth-hoarding surface. My face stung from the icy wind, and I thought wistfully about being warm again, really warm, but somehow the building that was ahead of us didn't seem that inviting, centrally heated or not.

I glanced over at Kevin. He looked sullen and shaky. “It'll be okay,” I said. He shot me a filthy look.

“Shut up, Pollyanna,” he said. “In my world, every time I let anybody else get me under lock and key, I get fucked.”

I shut up. Clearly, comforting people wasn't my calling.

Once Marion's chair was down and moving, Lewis was the one who made sure the path was clear and ice-free on the ramp. I didn't even think about it, and Kevin obviously couldn't have cared less about doing public service. Lewis held the door, too, as Marion's chair powered inside, and kept holding it for me and Cherise, then Kevin.

So Lewis was the last one inside before the lock engaged behind us. I heard the metallic clank and turned, startled; so did Kevin, white-faced with fury. Lewis held up a calming hand. “Secured facility,” he said, and rapped the glass with his knuckles. “Bullet-resistant glass, too. Come on, Kevin, it's not meant to keep you in; it's meant to keep things out. Security's still high in Warden facilities worldwide.”

Evidently, because there were two armed guards standing in the lobby, wearing cheap polyester blazers and expensive shoulder holsters. They didn't look like they were in the mood to take crap from anyone, either, and all four of us got the instant laser stare. I expected Marion and Lewis to dig for credentials, but instead they held up their right hands, palm out. I blinked, then hesitantly did the same when even Kevin followed suit. I expected…Hell, I don't know what I expected. Some kind of scanner ray? But I didn't see anything, and nothing happened, and after the security guys' gazes moved from one hand to the next, each in turn, they both nodded and stepped back, letting us have access to another closed door beyond.

They blocked Cherise. “Hey!” she protested, and looked beseechingly at Lewis. “I'm with them! Just ask!”

“Nobody but Wardens in the secured area,” one of the guards said.

Kevin was looking dangerously angry, but Lewis solved the whole thing by moving the guard back, taking Cherise's hand, and saying, “She comes with us. No arguments.”

The guard looked at Marion, who shrugged. “Technically, he's still the boss,” she said. “I'd make an exception.”

I blinked at Lewis. “You're the boss?”

“Pretty much,” he said. “Long story. Believe me, I hate the job as much as they hate me having it. We're working through succession planning.”

Lewis held the door open for me. Kevin had already stalked through it, following the low whine of Marion's power chair. Cherise followed, glancing back at me with mute appeals to stay close. This door shut behind us, too. This time it was positively disquieting. I hung back, let Lewis go ahead of me, and pretended to need to adjust my shoe. While I was doing that, I leaned back and tried the doorknob.

It didn't open.

Who's being protected here?
I wondered.
And from what, exactly?

Lewis glanced back. I gave my sock another token pull and hurried to catch up.

It was a short, narrow hallway, and it had an antiseptic smell. Even if you have your past and memory damaged, you don't forget that smell, and you can't avoid its giving you a little unpleasant tingle somewhere in the back of your brain. Something was telling me to get the hell out, but I didn't know if that was good instinct or bad. We passed three closed doors with plastic folder bins on the outside—none of them occupied, apparently, as there were no charts in the bins—and the hallway opened into a large, warm sitting area. The furniture looked industrial, but comfortable, and I sank gratefully down in a chair when Marion nodded at me. Someone in a lab coat came in from another entrance, head down, checking over something on a clipboard, and looked up to smile at Marion with an impartial welcome. “Ma'am,” he said, and extended his hand. He was a small man, neatly groomed, with ebony hair and eyes and a golden tint to his skin. “Dr. Lee. I wasn't informed you were dropping in today.”

“Unscheduled visit,” she said. “Hope that isn't a problem, Doctor. We have some urgent needs.”

“Not at all. We have a light caseload today—most of those who were injured during the fires have been rotated out to other facilities. We were strictly serving as triage here. I have two Wardens in critical condition who haven't been moved, back in ICU—Leclerq and Minetti. You here to visit?”

“I'll be happy to drop in,” she said. “Meanwhile, if you could have a look at the boy, I'd really appreciate your help.”

Dr. Lee turned his attention to Kevin, and those large, dark eyes widened. “I see,” he said in a much quieter voice. “Your name?”

“Kevin,” he snapped, but he directed it toward the carpet.

“Would you mind coming with me, Kevin?”

“Yes. I'm not going anywhere with you.”

Marion sighed. “I see the boy hasn't changed. Kevin, no one is going to harm you. I swear it.”

He glared at her. “No drugs.”

“Don't worry. We wouldn't waste them on you.”

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