Chill Factor

Kevin, furious, screaming, red-faced, tried to rip the walls of the room apart by digging deep into the bedrock below the hotel. He didn't care anymore who he hurt. Maybe he never had.



My instinct was to act, to do something, but I waited, watching.



Marion's hand slipped over my shoulder in a warm, gentle touch, and when I looked at her I saw tears in her eyes.



"I see," she said. "I see what to do. All this time we destroyed them, and we could have saved them..." She was talking about the Wardens she'd been ordered to neuter-or kill. This was a revelation for her, and it couldn't possibly be a happy one.



The Ma'at, in their quiet, invisible way, focused their powers to still the vibrations. It was a basic principle of wave motion; hit the right frequency, and the wave disappears. At a molecular level, everything resonates at specific speeds, to specific notes.



Even the earth.



Even Kevin.



The Ma'at didn't fight what he did; they fought what he was, at the source... stilling him, quieting him.



Stopping him, as a mother's hand stills a child's lips.



Kevin wasn't screaming anymore, I realized, and I looked down. His tear-streaked face was open and vulnerable. Defenses gone. I felt him trying to get beyond his own skin; he had Lewis's earth powers, and that meant that if he wasn't particular about how he used it, he could easily blow my heart open or crush my brain into jelly inside my skull. The temptation to do something, anything to protect myself was almost overwhelming, but I had to trust Lazlo. The best I could understand it, if I introduced a chaotic vibration into what the Ma'at were laying down around him, it would destroy any chance of success.



Boy, Kevin wanted me dead. Really, really dead. I could feel it coming off of him in red waves, see it like a poisonous cloud curling around him on the aetheric.



The cool whisper of the Ma'at was keeping that in check. It was a little like a piece of Saran Wrap holding back a heavyweight boxer's punch. I tried not to let the analogy make me nervous.



"Now," Lazlo breathed. "Take her hand."



Her, who?



I looked down.



Alice. Her innocent smile clashed with the vastness of the power I sensed in her. She was old, this little one. Far up on the Djinn scale of People You Don't Want to Mess With.



I extended my hand. She wrapped her small fingers around it.



We completed the two halves of the pattern.



Yin and yang.



Human and Djinn.



Positive and negative.



On the aetheric, the pattern swirled, lit up in glorious glowing color, and it was breathtaking. Complex and graceful as a sand painting, each piece in exactly the right place. I watched the colors race around... green for earth, blue for air and water, red for fire, sparking off of each human they touched, then shading subtly lighter as they moved through the chain of Djinn, gathering strength...



... to cascade through Rachel's touch into Lewis. A rainbow of light, turning brilliant white as it coiled inside of him. His body-a failing ruin of shadow and darkness-took on form and color. Not healed-that would take time-but no longer destroying itself.



No longer dying.



Let him keep what he is. I heard that through the clasp of hands, felt it move through us like a breath. Human and Djinn, formed into one living, thinking thing. Lewis was part of that. So was Kevin. There was a bright red bonfire burning inside of him-his natural powers, the ones that the Wardens expected Marion to rip away from him. It could be done now, without risk. Even without risk to Kevin, for that matter. He'd survive it. We'd all see to that.



But that was Lewis's voice, whispering, Let him keep what he is. Because he understood, maybe better than anyone, that Kevin couldn't live without that touch of fire in his soul. He wasn't demanding, or ordering. The Ma'at was a strange kind of democracy-the exact opposite of the Wardens, which was (for good or bad) an association of independents. In this formation, this... symbolic machine... we debated in silence, on the strength of emotion and feeling rather than words or logic. We argued from our souls.



And, in the end, we knew what we had to do.



Marion took her hand off of my shoulder, and the pattern dissolved into silence. Into forty-odd human and Djinn, each with their own agendas, their own hates, loves, needs. Each separate and apart, as the Wardens were separate and apart.



That was why the Wardens had never truly succeeded. They couldn't. They didn't understand.



This was power.



Kevin burst into tears.



I left my hand on him, not to hold him down, but to give him comfort.



"You hurt me," he was whispering. "She's dead, and you hurt me. Siobhan's dead. I couldn't protect her."



He kept crying, rocking back and forth. His whole body was shaking. I looked across at Marion, whose face was luminous and calm again.



"Yes, he's still dangerous, I know that," she said. "And he has a lot of potential. Now that I know it can be nurtured and controlled, I'd be a fool to destroy that for him."



"Guess he's going to need a mentor," I said. And, when she opened her mouth, "Don't look at me. I don't even like the kid."



Oh, that smile. That self-satisfied, knowing smile on Marion's lips.



"I don't," I insisted.



Kevin continued to cry.



"Oh, give me a break." I turned toward Rahel, who was still kneeling next to Lewis. "Rahel."



She rose to her feet in one of those smooth, inhuman motions that comes standard-issue with Djinn DNA-assuming they have such a thing-and turned to face me, chin down, eyes fierce, smile fiercer.



"Snow White," she said.



"My turn," I said. I saw people stepping away from what they saw in my face. "You fixed Lewis, you fixed Kevin. You know what I want."



She studied me without fear. "I can't. You already know that. What David is can't be fixed so easily."



"You were worse off, but you're just fine now, aren't you?" I gestured to indicate the whole Rahel package. "Don't give me any crap, Rahel. I'm not in the mood."



"It doesn't work that way."



I took one step closer and refused to look away, no matter how hard it was. My fury gave me strength. "You heal David, or I swear, I'll tear you apart. I'll make it my mission."



Silence. She didn't answer me. Alice did, little-girl Alice with her neon-blue eyes and ancient smile.



"She can't," Alice said. "She was healed because she took power from the stronger, and because of the death. There's no one here stronger than Rahel now. And no death."



"I could arrange that." I glowered at Lazlo, who raised his eyebrows fastidiously.



"It wouldn't matter," Alice said. "You need Jonathan, and he would have to give of himself."



Rahel nodded. "I will go with you to retrieve him. He can't remain in the hands of a..." She made a face and said a word in Djinn. A few of the other Djinn looked shocked. Alice actually blushed.



Whatever. "Good. Anybody else want in on this?"



The Djinn looked at each other. One by one, they voted silently with their disappearances, until all that were left were Ashan, that cold bastard, and Alice.



Ashan gave me an utterly subzero stare and said, "I will hold you responsible if you fail," and then he was gone.



Alice gave me a wide-eyed regretful look, shrugged, and skipped off into the shadows.



So much for Djinn loyalty, apparently.



"Fine. Me and Rahel." I leveled a finger at Lazlo, who was conferring quietly with two more of the Ma'at. "Yo! Laz!" He didn't respond immediately. When he did, he turned toward me with a genteel frown, as if I'd made some sort of rude biological noise. "I'm going after Quinn. Who have you got?"



"I'm going," Marion said immediately. "You'll need me."



"You're in. Thanks." I waited for Lazlo to step up to the plate. "C'mon, man. He's your guy; don't you think you ought to at least come along? Maybe present a nice distraction while I find a way to take him down?"



Lazlo retained his dignity, even in the face of my sarcasm. I didn't consider that a positive.



"Detective Quinn has been of assistance to the Ma'at from time to time, but only as an associate," he said. "We encountered him several years ago when he helped save one of our members. Since then, he's been very useful to us in keeping tabs on the movements of Wardens through this area, and also in locating and freeing Djinn from imprisonment. But he's got little or no power of his own, and we don't see him as a functioning member of our organization."



"Really." My voice had gone flat. "Don't hurt yourself, covering your ass like that. The Ma'at are in this up to their necks. Sure, Quinn was in with Chaz, smuggling drugs, back in the day, but then Quinn discovered something more interesting. How much would a Djinn in the bottle be worth on the black market, Laz? Millions, to the right rich bastard. Even a regular human can use them-not as effectively as a Warden, but they'd be pretty damn cool toys." I glanced over at Kevin, thinking involuntarily of his stepmother. "You guys made him your enforcer, right? When you heard about Djinn that you might be able to retrieve and set free, you sent him out to 'rescue' them. How often did he fail?"



Lazlo looked unsettled. "Failure was expected. No one can retrieve every-"



"How many times did he come back empty-handed?"



Silence. And then Ashworth said, "At least twenty in the last few years."



Marion indicated Lewis. "What about the ones Lewis took when he left the Wardens? Where did they go?"



Left was euphemistic, at best. Escaped with his life might have been a little more accurate, but I held my tongue. Wasn't Marion's fault that she had the job of getting rid of the Wardens' most dangerous problems. In fact, I was happier that she had it than anyone else I'd ever met; at least she was fair, gentle, and strong. Nobody liked an incompetent executioner.



"Freed," I said on his behalf. "Lewis set them free himself because he doesn't believe in keeping Djinn as slaves."



And then I realized what I'd just told her. What she'd witnessed, here in this room.



She knew that Djinn could exist outside of the bottles, now... that they could live on their own terms, with power and significance. That they could interact with us freely.



Just what I didn't want the Wardens to know.



Only Marion hadn't exactly looked shocked.



"You already knew about the Free Djinn?" I asked. She inclined her head. "How?"



"I'd be a fool if I didn't."



"Does anyone else-"



I got her warm smile. "There are many fools wearing the symbol of the Wardens. You ought to know that, Joanne. Truthfully, they're so caught up in their own lives, I doubt they notice much else. The world is full of secrets, anyway. Most people see what they want to see, and nothing more. I sometimes think it's the secret to sanity."



The Ma'at were buzzing around me. Lazlo was saying something, fairly loudly, about the Ma'at not being soldiers, which was true enough; I didn't hold it against them. Besides, I wasn't absolutely sure I trusted any of them to have my back, not against Quinn. He'd been part of their organization for too long for them to disavow him now.



Rahel was watching me, arms folded. Smiling.



"Well?" I asked. "Just the three of us?"



"Four," said a new voice. Lewis levered himself out of the chair, took a second to get his balance, and walked toward us. Around him, the Ma'at's frantic discussion fell silent. "I'm going."



"You can't-" Charles Ashworth began querulously, then shut his mouth with a snap when Lewis cut a look his way. "Fine. Kill yourself, then. For my part, I'm finished with this nonsense."



He turned and walked away, flourishing that damn cane to shove people out of his way. Rahel evidently thought by her grin that this was the best entertainment she'd had in years. She got in his path and blocked the door. They played a silent game of keep-away until Ashworth decided his dignity was worth more than a dramatic exit, and tried to look like it was his own idea to stay.



"That is, if you want me to go," Lewis said dryly, and I realized that I hadn't acknowledged the effort it had taken for him to rise and walk. Maybe his pride was hurt. I hadn't exactly come over to weep on his collar about how glad I was he'd survived.



I was, in fact, glad, but damn if I was going to show it now. There was work to be done.



"Depends. You going to fall over?" I demanded. He had his own cane in hand. It was starting to look like as much of an affectation as Ashworth's.



"Why? You going to catch me?"



"I never could resist a fainting hero," I said. As a gift horse, he was pretty creaky, but the color in his face was better, and I could feel that soothing vibration coming from him again, the one that made me feel all was right with the world in his presence. I experimentally reached out and touched his hand.



Zap. Blue sparks jumped. We both made faces and put more space between us. Things were definitely back to normal-electricity and that deceptive, seductive burning in my skin from his touch that had nothing to do with current taking the path of least resistance. I wouldn't be sharing any beds with Lewis again soon, no matter how innocent the intention. Couldn't totally guarantee my own willpower.



"So that's it? The four of us?" The Ma'at were taking themselves off as quickly as the Djinn had done... if in a less ethereal manner. A few younger ones were hanging around, mostly fascinated by the spectacle of enemy Wardens in their midst (I still couldn't bring myself to think of Lewis as Ma'at, even though I knew he was), not to mention the magnificence of Rahel in her sleek black silk.