Chill Factor

Vegas was nothing like that. It was empty. The aetheric was almost flat. There was history here, but it was layers of darkness, not light. Where the city in the real world was a blaze of light, on the aetheric it was shadow and midnight, velvet and silence. Hunger and the death of hope. This place consumed.



The Luxor was a lone blaze of light, burning and shimmering with power. There was a golden mist streaming away from it like a flow of dry ice, heading across an empty stretch of darkness toward... something else.



The absence of fire. A flickering blackness full of shadows, gravity, hunger.



It was consuming light, not producing it. Like a black hole, devouring everything around it in ever-increasing spirals.



We dropped back out of the aetheric. I fell hard back into my body with an all-over jolt that pulled sore muscles. Winced.



"That's Kevin?" I asked. Lewis slowly nodded. He looked mortally tired, even by so brief a journey. "Hey. Sit before you fall."



He lowered himself to a cross-legged position on the floor. "So. You understand?"



"Not really."



"I told you, she's useless," Ashworth said, and gripped the silver head of his cane more tightly, as if he wanted to bean me with it again. "Try putting it in words of one syllable for her."



Lewis put his hands on his knees, palms up, in a lotus pose. "Kevin's not producing enough power anymore," he said. "His natural talent was fire; he exhausted that weeks ago. He's burning through what he took from me too fast, and now in order to sustain himself and Jonathan he's learning how to take power from the world around him."



I felt a sudden chill. "Like a Djinn."



"No. Djinn do it on a much more balanced scale; he's drawing power like a demon. He has to be stopped, Jo. Regardless of his age, he's becoming a threat deadlier than anything that's walked the earth in ages. He has to be stopped, now." Lewis sucked in a deep breath, then let it out.



Lazlo took up the thread. "We need you to draw him out of hiding."



"Excuse me?"



"He doesn't come out of that room. We were able to act once, to get you out of there, because he was about to kill you, but we can't do it again. He's ready for us now. I need you to draw him out in the open so Quinn can take him. He'll be defending against magical attacks. He won't expect this kind."



I stared at him, stunned. "You want me to be bait?"



"No. We want you to gain his trust and then betray him. And it's very possible he might kill you before we can take him down."



"Wow, I'm just jumping at the chance to help you out now."



Lewis reached out and took my hand. I tensed, waiting for the burn of power that had always passed between us, but felt nothing. Of course... all his powers were gone, drained away, leaving a huge bleeding hole that was killing him. I'd never feel that burn between us again. Even if we succeeded in...



"No!" I yanked my hand back. "Lewis, dammit, if you kill the kid, we can't get your powers back. You know that!"



I wasn't saying anything they hadn't already thought of themselves. None of them had so much as a flicker of shock. Not even Lewis. "I know." He shrugged. "That's how it has to be. He can't be allowed to get any stronger. It's tearing things apart. And that's just him sitting still. If he starts really using those powers, God help us all."



"No!" I practically yelled it. Lazlo glanced at Lewis. So did Quinn. "You've got power, I know it, I can feel it! Combine forces, get over to the Bellagio, and kick his teenage ass! All we have to do is get Jonathan away from him. Hell, you even had the chance when you sent Quinn to get me!"



"Jonathan doesn't want to go," Lewis interrupted me. "Believe me, we've tried. Best we can figure, Jonathan wants to be Kevin's Djinn."



That made no sense at all. Why would Jonathan-who I knew was no one's bitch-stay a slave? Unless there was something in it he wanted...



I had a blinding memory, real as the aching lump at the back of my head. Jonathan, standing in front of a plate-glass window that didn't really exist, watching the world go by, his eyes dark and bitter and angry. There are days when every single one of them deserves to be wiped off the face of the earth.



He'd been looking out at the mortal world.



And Rahel had said, He is the one true god of your new existence, little butterfly.



I said slowly, "Kevin's not doing this. At least, he doesn't know he is, and he probably doesn't want to do it. It's Jonathan. He's found a way to give the world back to the Djinn. As far as Jonathan's concerned, Kevin's the perfect answer-nearly unlimited power, not too bright, not too principled, too young to know that he's being stupid. Too innocent to understand that Jonathan's using him, not the other way around. Jonathan just says 'yes, master' a lot and goes about his own affairs. He's killing Kevin by drawing off every scrap of power inside of him, and he's reaching through Kevin to suck it out of the world around him."



Silence. Lewis's expression was unreadable.



"But you already knew that," I finished softly. "Didn't you?"



Lewis nodded.



"And you know what he's trying to do."



Another nod. Lewis wasn't looking so good. I could almost see the blood draining out of his face, leaving him an unhealthy yellowish gray.



"Actually, killing the human world is a bonus," he said. "Jonathan's looking for lost Djinn."



"Lost..." I frowned. "You mean free, right?"



"No. Lost." He sighed. "The Wardens have been losing Djinn, and we haven't been finding them. They're still sealed in bottles, best guess. And it's too much of a coincidence that so many have gone missing. Somebody's got them."



"Somebody around here?"



"Think about it. Jonathan manipulated the kid into coming here, remember? He put the idea in Kevin's head. He wanted to be brought here. That means the answer must be here, too."



"And you're sure it's not your friendly neighborhood Ma'at."



Lazlo looked offended. "We don't imprison Djinn. We free them."



I glanced at them each in turn. Ashworth looked like he was sucking lemons.



"Up to you, Jo," Lewis said. "You get the boy out in the open, where we can stop this. If we have to take this fight up on the magical level, it'll kill everything. That's what Jonathan wants. That's what he needs. You have to..."



His eyes rolled back in his head. I reached for him, but Quinn was there ahead of me, taking his weight and easing him down on the carpet full-length.



The seizure lasted a full two minutes this time, complete with bone-cracking, spine-bending galvanic spasms. I tried to hold him down but it felt like he was made of metal cables and stainless steel, not flesh and blood. Except there was blood, trickling bright red from the corner of his mouth. I wiped it away with a warm, damp washcloth Quinn brought from the bathroom. Once the convulsions stopped, he lay still as death except for the rise and fall of his chest. I ran my fingers through his sweat-damp hair and looked across at Quinn. Quinn looked as blank as marble, and just as hard.



"He'll sleep awhile," he said. "Let's get him on the bed."



I helped lift him. Now that the spasms were past, he felt like he was a disjointed marionette, all papier-mвchй and thread. Lighter than he should have been. When Quinn stripped off his T-shirt I realized I could count his ribs. I put my hand flat against the bony ridges and found his skin was burning hot, hot as a Djinn's.



"Pants," Quinn said, and pointed to Lewis's jeans. "Less confusing for everybody if you do it."



I swallowed an inappropriate laugh and unbuttoned and unzipped. Dйjа vu. Wasn't the first time I'd been in Lewis's pants...



Quinn whipped them off with medical efficiency. The boxers underneath were white with pale blue stripes, very 1950s. I pulled the covers up over him.



The three old men were looking at me expectantly. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, said a quiet prayer, and thought about what Lewis had shown me.



I'd been so arrogant to him. So self-righteous. Since when did being the good guy mean contracting murder?



Since standing by meant destroying the world. Or letting it be destroyed.



"I'm your only hope to get close to Kevin, which is exactly what the Wardens want out of me, too," I said. "Here's the deal. Nonnegotiable. I'll play it my way first. If I can retrieve Jonathan's bottle without a fight, that's how it'll be done. If that fails, I'll get him out in the open, and Quinn can take him out."



"I hardly think that your way-" Ashworth started in.



"I hardly think you're in any position to tell me how this is going to go," I said. "I'm the only one of you that Jonathan will let get in spitting distance of the kid."



They all paused, looking at me. I put my hand over the warm spark that lived inside me, over the promise of life that I could use to deliver death.



"I'm the only one Jonathan won't kill on sight," I said. "If I can manage it, I'll get Jonathan's bottle and stop this the easy way. If not..."



I looked at Quinn. Quinn nodded.



"... there's always the easier way."



I told them to leave, afterward. Quinn and the rest of the League of Totally Ordinary Gentlemen trooped out. I spent the rest of the night curled up against Lewis's dreaming heat, listening to the steady, deep, even rhythm of his breathing. Sometime in there I faded into chaotic dreams of fire and flood, earthquake and storm, and me standing naked as the world eroded around me.



I woke up with Lewis spooned close behind me, still asleep but clearly awake in one part of his anatomy. I eased out from under the covers, went into the bathroom, and did the morning business. I struggled with the brush for ten minutes and was rewarded with shining body waves of dark hair that cascaded down past my shoulders.



Couldn't possibly be a bad day, if my hair cooperated like that.



I contemplated the blue beaded dress, but it was a little formally call-girlish for this early in the a.m. Back into the knit top and short skirt. My legs needed shaving. I attended to that, thanking the Luxor for the gift of personal safety razors, and finished up with a coating of lotion.



As I was smoothing on the last handful across the top of my thigh, I noticed I had company. Lewis was standing there watching me, eyes half-closed but not in the least sleepy. He'd put on his blue jeans, but nothing else... very sexy. I couldn't help but take in the view.



"Hey," I said, and took my bare foot down from the counter. I hastily wiped the extra lotion across hands and arms and tugged my skirt down to a more modest level. "You're alive."



"Barely," he agreed, and indicated the toilet. I vacated, closing the door on my way out, and fished my shoes out from under the bed. When he flushed and opened the door again, I was sitting on the bed, waiting. He sat down heavily in a chair and rested his head in his hands. "I'm tired, Jo. Really tired."



"Yo, boy, join the club."



"I'm going to get you killed, you know."



"Yeah, well, you look like you're going to drop dead at any minute, so I'll try not to hold it against you."



He wasn't smiling. "You were right. This was my idea. Mine and David's. We knew you'd never get to Kevin alive... I came up with the idea of stopping your heart temporarily, transporting you past the wards, and reviving you. He didn't like it much. He liked the idea of sending you in to Jonathan even less."



I remembered thinking how easy it would be for Jonathan to swat me like a fly. That would put an end to David's divided loyalties. "He found a way to protect me." The hot spark tingled under the press of my fingers on my abdomen. "We will be having a conversation about that later."



Lewis looked at me through latticed fingers. "What?"



"Nothing." I sucked in a breath and let it out. "So. Good move, getting me inside, but why didn't you use your business-suit buddies?"



"We've tried. Kevin's stopped us cold, and he's been sucking power at a faster and faster rate. We can't balance what's happening anymore. It's out of control. That's why we have to do this, Jo. It isn't that I want-" He broke off, shook his head roughly. "This isn't what I ever wanted. And using you to do it..."



"Sucks," I said crisply. "Well. There you go. Anything else I should know?"



He leaned back in his chair and regarded me through bloodshot, half-lidded eyes. "Yeah. Djinn are supposed to be returned to the vaults when Wardens die. There's always been attrition-some bottles breaking, some lost. But two hundred years ago, there were fifteen hundred Djinn known to the Wardens. Do you know how many there are today?"



I frowned at him. "No. Why does this matter?"



"Because there are fewer than six hundred in the vaults and assigned in the field."



"How many showed up free?"



"Maybe three hundred of them. Now, there will be losses. Bottles get buried, sunk in the ocean, there's predation by the Ifrit. Even then, there have to be a lot missing, and most of them have disappeared in the last six years. I think that's why Jonathan's resorted to this. He either believes we're behind it, or that we don't care."



"So somebody's stealing from the Wardens! And they don't know?"



"They suspect." Lewis rubbed his face as if he were trying to rub away exhaustion. " Marion 's been investigating. I helped her for a while. It all comes back here. To Las Vegas, or nearby. We can't find the bottles, since they don't show up on the aetheric, but there's this sense of..." He hunted for the word. "Evil. Jonathan manipulated the kid into bringing him here. He's looking for the same thing we are. He's just more ruthless about finding it."