Rachel Caine - Firestorm

"I think Ashan's counting on you to give up, actually."

"I can't fight him."

"Can't—or won't? That was Jonathan's problem. I thought part of the reason he handed things to you was so that you'd be able to… act."

He looked so grave that it chilled the lingering warmth inside me. I slipped off to the side and curled against him; his arm went around me, holding me close.

"I need time," he said. "I need time , Jo. What you're talking about is the beginning of the end for us. It's what Jonathan was afraid of all along. War. Death. Destruction. I'm not…" He hesitated. "I'm not ready. I'm not sure I can be what he was. Ever."

"So you're willing to let humans take the heat for you in the meantime while you debate it?"

His hand, which had been stroking my hair, went still. His eyes closed.

"Yes," he said softly. "I have to be willing to do that. And so do you. Listen, Jo—you spoke to the Oracle. That's unprecedented. You might have succeeded if the Oracle hadn't been—prevented—"

"Infected."

"Yes," he said, and kissed my bare shoulder. "So we try again. We keep trying. And if it comes to a fight with Ashan, I'll do everything in my power to end it with a minimum of bloodshed."

I rolled up on my elbow, looking down at him. "Human bloodshed? Or are you talking about the Djinn?"

He regarded me with absolute steadiness, and there was that shadow in his eyes, the same one that had been in Jonathan's before him. Power. Vast and unknown power. "I have to be true to my responsibilities, Jo. But you're one of those responsibilities now."

"I know," I said, and put my hand on his chest, over his heart. Not really a heart, of course; not really flesh, except by his will. I was touching fire. Touching eternity. "We're just flying by the seat of our pants, aren't we? But then, we've done that from the first moment we saw each other."

"Yes." His burning lips pressed on my forehead for a brief second. "It's like your forest fire. The old world is burning. It's hard to see the new one that's coming, under all the destruction, but the green always comes, Jo. It always comes." He kissed my shoulder again, making a slow trail along my collarbone. "Imara and Sarah's flight touched down in Phoenix without incident, by the way. Safe and sound. Imara's taking Sarah to the Ma'at."

"Sarah in Vegas," I sighed. "I'm not sure that's such a great idea…"

"I was thinking the same thing about Imara. I remember how much trouble you got into there."

"Maybe you'd better keep the kid someplace safe," I said morosely. "Ashan's going to target her to get to us."

"I know he'll try."

"But?"

"But that isn't likely to work," David said calmly. "First, like you, she's too unpredictable. He's never going to understand her well enough to use her. Second… I won't let him touch my daughter again."

I shivered. Ashan didn't know it, but he was playing catch with a grenade if he crossed David on that one.

I kissed him with wordless agreement, and he held me, and for the moment, these precious few moments, danger was something that existed outside of the safety of this still, quiet room, and the warmth of this bed.

And wrapped in his warmth, even though urgency still beat war drums in my blood, I slept.

Morning came with a boom of thunder, and I awoke to feel things spiraling out of control again. I stayed in bed and rose up into the aetheric, struggling to keep the reins on the weather, but it was wild and getting worse.

"We should go," David said. I didn't want to. Being under soft sheets with him, cupped warm against his heat, was the best heaven I could imagine. "The first flight to Phoenix is in three hours."

"I don't think anything's flying out of town today," I said. "Feel the sky."

He was already moving, sliding off the bed and standing up naked, facing away from me. I watched as he formed clothing.

He turned to face me, pulling his olive drab coat into place on his shoulders. "It's only going to get worse." An infinity of regret in the words. I couldn't read his eyes; they were human, and hidden behind glasses and shadows. "We'll have to find a way."

I sighed and looked around. My clothes were neatly folded on the chair next to the bed. I began pulling things on. "So the Oracle is in Phoenix?"

"Not exactly." He pulled open the drawer in the small desk and took out the slender phone book. At a tap of his finger, it turned into a road atlas. He flipped pages, then handed it to me.

I glanced at it, blinked, and looked at him in exasperation. "You're kidding."

"No."

"Please tell me you're kidding."

"I'm not." He tapped the open map with his forefinger. A spot lit up, golden even in the glow of the lamp. "I don't make the rules, Jo. This is where the second Oracle can be reached."

Because the map was of Arizona, all right, but the city that was marked was Sedona. Why had I ever even doubted that sometime, somewhere, I'd have to go there?

"What's so funny?" he asked, frowning. I shook my head, laughing until spots danced in front of my eyes. Waved my hand ineffectively. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," I gasped. "It's just… so New Age-y. What do we do? Meditate in a pyramid? Wear a crystal hat?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on. Sedona?"

He shrugged. "The veil's thinnest there."

Well, it would be, wouldn't it?

David wanted to head straight for the airport. I wanted to stop for breakfast. It was the worst decision of my life. But even before breakfast, we had a fight about the car.

It started innocently enough. We waited for a letup in the rain. Outside, the air was cooler, cleaner, felt more alive, somehow, because of David's presence. I thought it was my imagination at first, but then I wasn't so sure; it seemed as if the flowers out front of the hotel got brighter, opened wider in his presence. Another sign of his strength and connection to the heart of the Earth.

Or of really great sex.

The Camaro was wedged in between a giant-tired Ford pickup and a van the size of the space shuttle.

David stopped a few feet from the car, looking at it with an expression I couldn't read. "This is from Lewis, isn't it," he said. Uh-oh. I unlocked the passenger door for him, then went around to my side.

"Official transportation," I said, since I didn't want to think about how deeply obligated I was to Lewis right now. "Warden motor pool."

He sent me a drop the bullshit look, opened the door, and slid inside. I did the same. "Expensive gift."

"Yes." I slid the key into the ignition and fired her up. David ran a contemplative fingertip over the dashboard, seeing who-knew-what with his Djinn senses. "It's fast. I needed a fast car. It wasn't personal."

"Oh, yes it is," he disagreed. "This is a very personal car. A very personal gift."

"David—"

"You can't see it," he said. "You would have, when you were Djinn, but he's in love with you. He's been in love with you for a long, long time. It's all over this car, his feelings for you."

Oh, dear. It wasn't so much that I didn't see it as I didn't want to see it. I'd been careful around Lewis. Not careful enough.

"Well, fine, but I'm not in love with him," I said, and put the car in gear.

"You are," David said. There was a hard edge to his voice I couldn't understand. "Don't lie to yourself."

I felt that, all right. It hurt. "David, I'm not in love with Lewis!" Except maybe I was. A little. A teeny little traitorous bit of me that still remembered the crush I'd had on him back in the day. And liked it when he crinkled those brown eyes at me and smiled so charmingly.

And gave me sexy cars. "I'm not ! I'm in love with you! Dammit, why are we fighting?"

"Because he gave you a car, and you took it."