Thin Air

and revealed Venna’s tiny, tidy figure-spotless, composed, back in her Alice-themed dress and pinafore. She smiled slightly. Nothing innocent about it.

At her feet lay Ashan, unconscious.

“I wasn’t just protecting her,” Venna continued, as if she’d been part of the conversation all along. “What Ashan did caused an imbalance, and the Demon took advantage. We have to right the balance-you know that. Joanne is a means to an end.”

David’s eyes were fixed on Ashan. “What about him?”

“All locks have keys.”

“You can make duplicate keys,” David said, “when you break one.”

To his credit, David didn’t rip Ashan in half on sight. I suspected that was because of what he’d found in Sedona, and because-maybe-of what Imara had conveyed to him. He hadn’t said a word about it, but there was a deep-seated peace in him that hadn’t been there before. Apparently he was willing to let bygones be…

Well, maybe not. After staying still for several long seconds, David flashed across the intervening space, grabbed Ashan by the back of the neck, and dangled him off the ground like a toy. His lips were drawn back from his teeth, and those teeth were pointed. I remembered Rahel giving me the shark grin when we’d met after the helicopter ride; that was nothing compared to the savage expression on David’s face at that moment. Even predators can be pets, Venna had said, but David was more like a T. rex, and I wasn’t so sure he’d ever been tamed.

“If you kill him,” Venna said, tense, “the Demon wins, and this Joanne dies. Is this what you want, David?”

I was afraid he hadn’t heard her for a second, but then he threw Ashan down-hard-and crouched to converse eye-to-eye with Venna. “What game are you playing, Venna?”

“The same as you,” she said. “I found her here. I kept her alive. I found Ashan.”

“You kept Ashan from me. Didn’t you?”

“Well, yes, I expected you’d try to destroy him,” she said. “Confess. Aren’t you glad I did? Really?”

“You didn’t do it to help me or Joanne. You did it for your own reasons.”

She shrugged.

David looked grim, and almost angry. “Venna, if you’re thinking about standing against me, don’t. I don’t want a fight. Back off.”

“I can’t,” she said. “It’s not my choice, David; it’s just practical. You may be in charge now, but you won’t be for long, because the old ones aren’t listening to you, and they won’t ever listen. You may be the conduit, but you’re not Jonathan. They won’t obey you. Somebody needs to be able to control them, and it can’t be one of the New Djinn this time.” She looked down at Ashan. “He might have been wrong, but he was right in one way: The fight’s coming, whether he ends up in charge or not. You can’t stay where you are, David. I’m just trying to give you a chance to consider your options and control how it occurs.”

I didn’t know what she was talking about, but it sounded ominous. Worse, it sounded ominous for David. Personally.

“You didn’t save Ashan for me or for Joanne,” David said. “I’m not stupid enough to think you like either of us that much. You protected Ashan because he’s a symbol of the Old Ones. You’re trying to restore him to what he was.”

She didn’t even try to deny it. “Yes,” she said. “He deserved punishment, and he was punished. But he doesn’t deserve destruction.” She met his eyes. “He’s my brother, David. He’s your brother, too, in a lesser way. But I wouldn’t expect a human-born to understand what that means to one of us.”

David’s face tightened. “She wasn’t your daughter, Venna. Joanne isn’t your lover.”

“More loss doesn’t balance the scales. It’s enough, David. Enough.”

He let out a slow, unsteady breath. “You want me to help restore his powers? And trust him?”

Venna said, quite simply, “Yes.”

“Excuse me,” I said, and stepped forward. “Could you speak in the kind of English that makes sense? Because it sure as hell sounds like you’re planning to give Ashan back his powers, and just from what I know about him, I am not voting yes.”

Venna looked at me like I was a bug on her bathroom floor. “I thought you wanted to live.”

“Venna.” David was making a real effort to keep his tone even and calm. “It’s impossible.”

Venna’s stare was predator-steady. “Oh, it’s possible,” she said. “It comes down to what you really want, David. And you don’t know, do you? You want everything. You want to be Djinn and carry on Jonathan’s work. You want to be human and live a human life. You want your lover; you want your daughter; you’re nothing but wants, as infantile as any human. But you can’t have these things. Not all of them. You’re going to have to choose.”

“Shut up,” he said, and took a step toward her. Venna, small as she was, fragile as she seemed, suddenly looked much more dangerous.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she said. “I’m not your toy. And you’re not Jonathan.” She reached down, grabbed Ashan by the collar of his shirt, and dragged him up to a sitting position. He remained limp as a puppet. “When you decide to be sensible, let us know. Until then, he remains with me.”

“Venna, wait-”

She disappeared with a faint shimmer and a pop.

Lewis walked over, hands in the pockets of his jeans, casual and laconic as ever. “That went well,” he said to David. David just glared at him. “Right. Well. I tried intercepting our impostor’s SUV. It was empty. We have no idea where she’s going.”

I cleared my throat. “Actually,” I said, “I think I might be able to find that one out.”

It wasn’t flattering that they both looked so damn surprised about it.

“Hang on,” Paul Giancarlo said. “What do you mean, this is the real Joanne?” He gave me a look that rivaled Venna’s for its ability to reduce me to the status of a small crawling thing. “No offense, but I think you’ve both been smoking something. Joanne left here in the SUV with you guys, and you come back with this and tell me she’s the real deal? Are you fucking crazy?”

We were in the lodge, which was a nice, woodsy sort of place, privately owned by the Wardens, halfway up the slope of a decent-sized foothill to a more-than-decent-sized mountain. Blanketed by a light covering of snow, surrounded by the fresh green towering trees, it looked like a Christmas card. There was even a fire snapping and roaring in the hearth, bathing my right side in heat where I sat on the couch. Lewis had a wing chair across from me, booted feet up on a primitive-style coffee table built out of uneven round logs. David was pacing. The other Wardens had come with us, but they’d stayed in other rooms. Reporting to HDQ, presumably, or doing whatever it was that Wardens did, generally.

The other two in the room had been waiting for us at the lodge: Marion and Paul. Marion looked tired, but I couldn’t see any long-term effects from our last encounter. I was glad, because I had the feeling that damaging Marion would be a very bad move on many different levels.

Paul looked pissed. He was scary when he was pissed.

“The other one convinced all of us,” Lewis said. “She told us what we wanted to hear, and we all bought in. But it wasn’t real. She wasn’t real. And now she’s out there, and we need to stop her.”

“This is bullshit!” Paul spit, and stalked away, arms folded, to stare out the big picture window at the gorgeous view. I exchanged a look with Lewis, then got up and went to stand next to Paul, my hands folded on the windowsill. “Don’t try to slick me, chickie. I got zero reason to believe you, either.”

“That’s true,” I said, and turned to look him right in the eyes, then jerked my head to the door. “Can we talk in private? Please?”

He glanced at the others, suspicion grooved so deep into his face it looked like tribal tattoos. “I got nothing to say to you.”

“Paul.” I kept watching him, then turned and walked to the door. I didn’t look back, but after a few seconds of silence I heard his heavy footsteps coming after me. The next room over was a small library. No fires lit in this room; it was cool and smelled of old paper, spiced with a hint of pumpkin from a bowl of potpourri. The curtains