Chill Factor (32 page)

‘You broke him,’ he said. ‘You fix him.’

He vanished before I could get out more than half a curse.

The Wardens agreed to a meeting back at our old stomping grounds, the Holiday Inn outside of White Ridge. I’d spent an entire day showering, bathing, showering, and sleeping with David’s sealed bottle resting in my arms; when I came downstairs the next day I looked rested, relaxed, and heavily abused. Bruises up and down my body. Wrecked fingernails. Sunburn on my face, not to mention the muscle tears and sprains that made holding on to a smile an effort.

Thank God for aspirin and Vivarin.

Paul was waiting, along with Marion, Lewis, and a few others. Wardens all, at least in name.

‘Jo.’ Paul tried to put his arms around me. I backed him off with a look and took a seat on the couch. After a pause, he followed suit. He glanced from me to Lewis, me to Marion. ‘I guess we can call this a qualified success.’

‘Qualified,’ I repeated. ‘What did we qualify for? Bonuses? Free parking?’

‘Look, it’s just…’ Paul fidgeted, then fixed me with a steady stare. ‘The kid’s missing – Kevin. Jonathan’s gone, and I don’t have to tell you what kind of a loss that is for us. We’re just lucky that things are moving back towards normal.’

‘Normal?’ I sounded like a parrot.

‘The earthquake thing, it’s better. There’s going to be a couple of big ones, but in remote areas and not too much damage. The warming trend’s slowing down. We’re still heading for an ice age, but I don’t see that we can do shit about it without—’

‘Without Jonathan.’ I rested my aching, torn hands in my lap. I was wearing jeans again – hip-huggers, in memory of Siobhan – and I’d gone for open-toed flip-flops, considering the state of my cut and bruised toes. ‘Jeez, sorry about that. Guess we’ll just have to hope for the best.’

Paul clearly wasn’t liking my polite, non-confrontational attitude. ‘What’s up with you? I’m telling you that you
failed
. If you’d stayed out of things like we agreed—’

‘Then we’d all be dead,’ I said sweetly. ‘But hey, next time? I’m booking a spa, getting a massage. Wait for the end in style, you know?’

He didn’t respond. I dropped the sweetness from my tone. ‘Fine. Let’s get to the important parts. What’s the damage?’

‘You’ve been lying to us, sweetheart.’

No kidding. Where to start?
‘About what?’

‘Jonathan, for starters.’ Paul’s eyes were full of bitterness. ‘He’s not in the goddamn register. He doesn’t fucking exist, Jo. Where’d he come from? You know, don’t you?’

‘No.’

‘Are there more like him out there? More Djinn?’

I kept quiet, watching Marion’s impassive face. She knew. And she wasn’t talking.

‘Jo, I’m giving you a chance to speak up, here. Take it.’

‘Gee, thanks. But no.’

I moved from looking at Marion to looking at Lewis. He was a closed book, too. Quiet. Self-contained. He’d taken Kevin in hand, as I’d known he would; the kid was safely tucked away with the Ma’at, back in Vegas. Lewis would watch out for him.

Whether he would be able to watch out for me was an open question. I was the one thing that could break the secrecy of the Ma’at
and
the Djinn.

We’d all said the same thing: David’s bottle had
been destroyed. He was lost. The blue glass was hidden in the bottom of my purse, wrapped safely in a cocoon of bubble wrap.

I still had him, if he lived. If he could recover.

Paul was getting impatient. ‘I want you to understand that you’re part of the chain of command, kiddo. You have a boss – that’s me, in case you didn’t know – and you do what your boss says from now on, or I’m going to have to consider removing you from the association. You get me? That means you give up your powers – Marion and her guys see that it’s done humanely, but it’s done. That’s how it would have to happen.’

Over his shoulder, Marion gave me a tiny, definite shake of her head. Behind her, a shadow flickered into existence, then into three-dimensional life. He was beautiful…tall, broad-shouldered, with impenetrable midnight eyes – not brown, a true, lightless black – and long dark hair frosted lightly with grey. Lines at the corners of his eyes that softened him into something more human. He was dressed, like Marion, in blue jeans and cowboy boots, but his shirt was a matte blue silk, something that begged to be petted.

Marion’s Djinn. Marion’s lover. He was back. That was the silent message from her. I didn’t know if it meant she’d openly disobey orders, but she wasn’t following them with a whole heart.

I said, with a weird sort of calm, ‘Oh, yeah, Paul,
I totally get you.’ I stood up. ‘Thanks for the opportunity to get reamed out for doing the right thing, and by the way, doing it better than any of you seem to have managed. But I hope you don’t mind if I decline the verbal abuse.’

He opened his mouth, and shut it again fast when I turned and headed for the door, for the bright, merciless sunshine. I had brand-new credit cards, provided courtesy of Rahel. Wads of cash, from the same source. A fast car, waiting outside.

I could go back to Vegas, catch a tan, heal up. Eventually, I’d need to figure out what to do, but hell, I figured I deserved a vacation.

And the Ma’at damn well deserved to fund it.

‘Jo,’ Paul called after me. I turned, slid on sunglasses, and gave him my best, brightest smile.

‘Bite me,’ I said. ‘I’m not playing Warden anymore. Go save the world without me. I quit.’

My favourite songs contributed to the craziness of Joanne’s Las Vegas adventure. Support the artists, buy the CDs!

Each of these songs contained something that evoked the mood of the book or the characters for me…and hey, damn cool driving music, too.

Enjoy,
Rachel Caine
www.rachelcaine.com

R
ACHEL
C
AINE
is the bestselling author of over thirty novels, including the
New York Times
bestselling Morganville Vampires series. She was born at White Sands Missile Range, which people who know her say explains a lot. She has been an accountant, an insurance investigator and a professional musician, and has played with such musical legends as Henry Mancini, Peter Nero and John Williams. She and her husband, fantasy artist R. Cat Conrad, live in Texas with their iguanas, Pop-eye and Darwin, a
mali uromastyx
named (appropriately) O’Malley, and a leopard tortoise named Shelley (for the poet, of course).

www.rachelcaine.com

www.myspace.com/rachelcaine

The Weather Warden series

Ill Wind

Heat Stroke

Chill Factor

Windfall
 

Firestorm

Thin Air

Gale Force

Cape Storm

Total Eclipse

The Morganville Vampires series

Glass Houses

The Dead Girls’ Dance

Midnight Alley

Feast of Fools

Lord of Misrule

Carpe Corpus

Fade Out

Kiss of Death

Ghost Town

Bite Club

Morganville Vampires Omnibus:

Glass Houses, The Dead Girls’ Dance, Midnight Alley