by Rachel Caine
Page 12
And I caught a flash of pink, and Cherise ran out in front of the advancing flames, and stopped just in front of Lewis.
"No!" I screamed, and lunged up. "Cherise, no! He can't see you!"
Kevin's view was blocked by the flames. Maybe he could see Lewis, I didn't know, but he couldn't possibly have seen Cherise, and he was going to kill her.
And she wasn't going to move.
Lewis put out one hand, palm out, and stopped the wall of fire cold. His fingers curled down, and so did the blaze, collapsing into a confusion of hot streamers and flickering out of existence a bare two feet from Cherise's pale, terrified face.
When he saw her, Kevin's mouth opened, a dark O of horror, and he lurched forward at the same time she started toward him. I climbed up to my feet, brushing away the snow, as the two of them collided to form a frantic pile of arms and legs.
Kevin was talking as he kissed her, but the words were only for Cherise, and besides, the noise of the approaching helicopter was rattling around the valley like thunder. I moved back toward Lewis, feeling tired and achy and even more anxious than before. What if Kevin was still possessed? What if we had to kill him? Oh, God.
Lewis was ready for that; I could see it in the way he was standing, watching the two of them. Nothing but calculation in his eyes. If he thought it was adorable, the slacker and the beach bunny reuniting, he kept it well hidden behind a blank, empty expression.
"Stay behind me," he said as I approached. I nodded and obeyed. "Watch for the helicopter. Signal it when you see it. "
I risked a glance over his shoulder and saw that Cherise had taken Kevin's hand and was leading him over toward us. "Cherise," Lewis called. "Let go and step aside. "
"But-"
"Do it. "
I'd have done what he said, too; that tone didn't leave any room for negotiation. I scanned the skies-still nothing but low, gray clouds-and peeked again. Cherise let go of Kevin's hand and moved away-not far, but far enough for Lewis's purposes, apparently.
Kevin glared at him. The kid looked ill, pale, frostbitten, and on his last legs. As Lewis took a step forward, fire began dripping from Kevin's fingers.
"Stop fighting me," Lewis said, voice dropping low. He was using some kind of power, something that made me feel sleepy even in the corona effect; I saw Cherise yawn and stagger. "Cherise is fine. Let us take care of you now. I know what happened. You have to stop fighting, Kevin. I'm not your enemy. "
Kevin swayed. His hands fell to dangle at his sides, and fire dripped and smoked from his fingertips, hissing into the snow. "Don't," he said. "Don't touch me. You shouldn't touch me. In case. "
"I know," Lewis said. He was nearly within grabbing range. "It's okay. It's gone now. You're going to be all right. "
Kevin staggered and collapsed to his knees in the snow. Where his hands met the white powder, the snow sizzled into steam. "I tried," he mumbled, and shook his head angrily. Fire flew like drops of sweat. "I tried to stop it. It came out of the forest fire; I'd never seen anything like that before; I didn't know what to. . . I couldn't protect her. I thought I could, but-"
Lewis was there by then, and without any hesitation at all he grabbed Kevin and pulled him upright. "It's not your fault," he said. "There's not a Warden alive who could have done any better. Including me. You survived. That's the important thing. "
Kevin was barely conscious, and Cherise moved to help support him, casting looks at Lewis that silently pleaded for him to make things right. I heard the thump-thump-thump of rotors overhead growing clearer, and finally spotted a shadow moving through the mist.
I started scissoring my arms. The color of my down jacket-green-might not be enough for them to pick us out, but I did some jumping up and down and yelling, even though I knew the yelling was useless. The helicopter headed toward us, hovered overhead, and started circling in for a landing.
As I lowered my arms to shield my eyes from blowing snow, I saw someone standing in the shadows across the clearing. She was tall, and she had long, dark hair that blew in a silken sheet on the wind. She wasn't wearing a coat, just a pair of blue jeans, some not-very-practical boots, and a baby-doll tee in aqua blue. I had that disorientation again, the same as when I'd been watching myself through Cherise's eyes, but this was different. For one thing, it wasn't a memory. She was there, facing me, in real time.
It took exactly one second for the full implications to hit me, hard, and run me down like a speeding train.
"Imara?" I whispered. Or tried. My voice was locked tight in my throat. I glanced desperately at Lewis, but he was occupied with the kids, and besides, he couldn't possibly have heard me over the roar of the descending machine. "Oh, God. Imara, is it you?" Because it had to be my daughter, didn't it? She looked just like me-the same height, the same curves, the same black hair, although hers looked better cared for at the moment.
And the wind blew her hair back, revealing her face fully. She smiled, and my whole skin shivered into gooseflesh, because that smile was wrong. I felt the dark impact of it all the way across the open snowy space. She was not my daughter. There was a crawling, sticky sense of evil to it. There was also an overwhelming feeling of danger, even though she wasn't making any overt moves in my direction.
She was. . . me.
"Lewis!" I said, startled into a yell.
He can't help you, she said, as clearly as if she were standing at normal conversational distance. It wasn't a voice, though. Not really. If he does, I'll have to take action. Do you want me to destroy him? And the children? I will. It means nothing to me, really.
She wasn't my daughter.
She was the Demon.
Walk toward me, she said. Walk toward me, and no more have to be harmed. That's what you want, isn't it? I promise you, I will make it painless.
"Lewis," I said, louder. "Lewis, dammit, look!"
You'll only make this harder in the end.
She turned and walked back into the trees. Gone. I couldn't even seen tracks where she'd been standing.
"What?" Lewis shouted to me, suddenly at my side and bending his head close to mine to be heard over the noise. The dull blunt-force thud of helicopter blades was very loud now. "What's wrong?"
Would he believe me if I told him? Or would he think I'd just finally lost my last screw? There was nothing to see there now, and as I extended the senses that Lewis and David had been showing me how to use, I got. . . nothing. Nothing but whispering trees and a slow, sleeping presence that I assumed was how I now perceived the Earth.
"Nothing," I said. "Never mind. "
I watched as the helicopter began its descent. I held my hair back against the harsh, ice-edged wind it kicked up, and backed up with Lewis to give it room to land. The helicopter touched down, and the rotors slowed but didn't stop. The emblem on the side was some kind of seal, and nothing I recognized.
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 pretend
ed 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.
