"More like the tabloids."
"Makes sense. So why do you care who told me about the Djinn?"
"I don't," he said, and shrugged, and pulled a book from the pocket of his coat. Nothing I recognized. The cover had a black-and-yellow road sign blazed on the cover; when I squinted, I saw it read BE CAREFUL.
Jesus, he was tempting fate, doing that in front of her.
The cover shifted again, into a Patricia Cornwell mystery, and he opened it to a dog-eared page and appeared to forget all about me.
Star was watching me in the rearview mirror. "You heard about Lewis taking the Djinn, right? Three of 'em? When he bugged out?"
"I heard."
"Well, rumor has it he let at least one of them go. It's just a matter of tracking him down, that's all. And I've got just the girl to do it." She hadn't looked away. It was a little eerie, actually. Dark, dark eyes, pupils fading into irises. "Once you have Lewis, what then?"
"Then he helps me figure out how to get this thing out of me."
Her eyebrows slowly rose. "Yeah? You really think he knows how?"
"Sure." I was lying my ass off, mostly to myself, but it felt better than the uncertainty of the truth. "If anybody does, he does."
"Okay, stupid question. What I meant to ask is, why would he? You got something special going with him?"
Oh, that was a subject I really didn't want to dig into, not with David sitting in the passenger seat, thumbing blandly through a book. Star didn't seem to care. She started to smile, but her eyes were going cold.
"Or you got something else going with him? You on some undercover mission, chica?"
"Yeah, sure," I shrugged. "Don't ask, don't tell."
I meant it as a joke, and I wasn't prepared for the flash of sheer fury in her eyes. "Fine," she said. "Keep your little secrets."
"I don't have any secrets." As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I realized I'd lied to her. Effortlessly. Without a second thought. And I didn't even know why, except that a yellow danger sign kept flashing into my head. I'd chosen to trust Star. I just . . .
. . . couldn't trust her.
She drove down Main Street, past shops just lightning up against the darkness . . . grocery stores . . . gas stations . . . incongruously, a condom shop. The Burger King on the corner was doing a brisk business in robbing college students of their lunch money. On the other side of the narrow street, gracious Plantation-style homes with Doric columns put on a brave front that the South would rise again.
She slowed and turned into a strip-mall parking lot pretty much identical to the six others we'd passed, and pulled the Land Rover into a parking space barely able to stretch to fit it. I squinted up at the sign, which hadn't yet been turned on against the falling darkness: ball's books.
It looked like exactly what it was: a used bookstore, and not the corporate, regimented kind-the kind that conformed to the whim of an owner. I liked it immediately, but there was still a cold cramp in my stomach, and I couldn't think exactly how I was going to get out of this. More important, how I'd get David out of this.
I grabbed his coat sleeve as Estrella limped away, pulled him down for a whisper. "Take a walk."
"Where?" he asked mildly.
"Why should I care? I don't want you anywhere near her if she's going to-"
His hand covered mine, and some of his human disguise fell away; his eyes turned burning, swirling bronze, and I felt his heat pour into me and drive out the chill. His smile, though, was all guy. All David.
"It won't matter," he said. "If she can find me at all, it doesn't matter where I go. If you're so worried about me, there's something you can do to stop it."
I knew what he meant. "I'm not claiming you."
He shrugged and took his hand away. "Then I'll take my chances."
Stubborn, infuriating . . .
Star tapped on the store window and gestured. David moved to the door and held it open for me, head down. I fought an impulse to kick him in the shins. As I walked past, he murmured, "No matter what happens, you always have a choice."
We stepped into cool silence and the smell of old paper. To the right was a wall of corkboard packed with cards and papers of every description, no rhyme or reason to it that I could see; some advertised massages, some were photocopies of newspaper cartoons, some were just plain mystifying. David stepped around her and began to look through books-I thought at first he was stalling for time, but his interest in the contents of the racks seemed genuine. He really did love reading, after all. And I guess even Djinn need a hobby.
"Hey, Star," said a voice from behind me. I turned to see a youngish woman sitting behind a table- well away from the cash register and counter- surrounded by books, a coffeemaker, and a butterscotch calico cat. She had brown hair cut in a shag and watchful cool eyes that struck me as capable and observant. "New romances in-you want to look through the boxes?"
"Not today, thanks, Cathy." Star exchanged what appeared to be a significant look with the woman. "I need the book."
If that seemed odd, asking for "the" book in a store littered with them, the woman clearly didn't think so; she looked spooked, not confused. "I thought we were done with that."
"Almost," Star said. She held out her hand, half-plea, half-demand. "Come on, Cathy, just this once."
Cathy shook her head, got up, and walked to the back of the store. She opened a door marked NO ADMITTANCE.
"The book?" I asked Star. She shrugged, still watching the open door at the back.
"Took me years to track it down," she said. "Cathy finally bought it off the Internet for me. I told her she could have it when I was done with it."
"What is it?"
Star smiled that lopsided smile. It wasn't comforting this time. "It's a surprise. You'll see."
Things thumped, back there. Cathy returned carrying a limp cardboard box, top closed, that looked like it weighed a considerable amount. She dropped it down on the desk and folded back the stained box wings.
"You're sure?" she asked. That silent communication again between them was nothing I could interpret. I didn't know Cathy Ball, but I felt like I should; on an impulse, I reached out and passed my hand over hers.
Glyphs shimmered, blue and silver. A Weather Warden. She looked up sharply and met my eyes; I smiled and showed her my matching set. Nothing eased in her body language. "Star?" she said. "You know I don't like other Wardens around here."
I hadn't been expecting a hug, but this was a bit much; we're generally a pretty chummy group.
"Sorry," Star said, not sounding too sorry at all. "She's a friend. She needs our help."
Cathy shot a look toward David, clearly asking the question. "No," I said. "He's not. What've you got against other Wardens, anyway?"
"Nothing," Cathy said, which vibrated like a lie all along my nerves. "It's just that they're trouble. Bunch of power-hungry, crazy, egotistical jerks, generally. I like peace and quiet." Her eyes narrowed at me. "Take that business in Oklahoma City today. You wouldn't believe what a mess that was. The aetheric was screwed up from here to Kansas, all the way over to Phoenix. Took hours just to get the temperature variances back to normal."
I threw a save me! look at Star, who was busy taking a huge leather-bound book out of the cardboard box and shaking off white packing peanuts. She ignored me, shoved the box off to thump on the floor, and eased the book down to the desk on top of a mound of category romances.
The cat that had been slinking inquisitively around Cathy's plate of doughnuts hissed around and skittered away, shooting past David into the farthest corner of the store. David had paused with the new Stephen King novel in his hands, staring at the book that Star had laid out, and I saw cinders of gold and bronze catch fire in his eyes. It was the real deal; I could see that from the intensely blank expression on his face.
"Star," I said, "Look, maybe this isn't the right time. I'm really tired, I'm starved-let's take this thing with us, get something to eat, maybe have a good night's sleep and talk it over. I'm trashed. Really."