Chill Factor by Rachel Caine Read Free Book Online Page B

mouth, sticky and sour. It’s what I’d been afraid of in the beginning. Why I hadn’t ever wanted to claim him as a Djinn. What was between the two of us was fragile, and I was human and stupid. It was easy to screw it up.
    She transferred her gaze to me. The look was too wise, too compassionate, and it made me feel cheap.
    ‘Not yet, maybe,’ she said. ‘Give it time. I do speak from experience, you know.’
    Interesting. I’d never seen Marion’s Djinn; I didn’t know of anyone who ever had. She had one, of course; at her level, it would be impossible for her not to. And yet…she was extremely private about that relationship. Those short sentences were, from her, a bombshell confession. I knew, without looking over my shoulder, that David was manifesting behind me. Not afraid to show himself now that he knew the game was up. I felt a little better for the support, though I knew there was only so much he could do in this situation.
    Only so much either of us could do, actually.
    ‘Thanks for the advice,’ I said. My chilly tone was a little undermined – and muffled – by the fact that I was pulling my black knit shirt over my head at the time. I tested my shoes and found them dry – another silent gift from David. Istepped into them and headed for the bathroom.
    Marion, who’d taken a step farther into the room, got in the way. I stopped and frowned. ‘Look, no matter how urgent this is, it’s not so urgent that I can’t pee and swig some mouthwash, right?’
    She looked doubtful. That scared me.
    ‘I’ll be thirty seconds,’ I said, and ducked around her.
    Just to be rebellious, I took a full minute.
       
    The saving-the-world confab took place downstairs in the Holiday Inn lobby, next to the tinkling artificial fountain where I’d first met Chaz. Paul had taken the liberty of rearranging the furniture, pulling sofas and chairs into a tight little group. Circling the wagons. The desk clerks looked oblivious; I guessed that Paul had used his Djinn to put a glamour around us, make us unnoticeable. (It was, as David constantly reminded me, a hell of a lot easier than making us invisible.) I clopped down the lobby stairs, following Marion; David was no longer visible. I never could tell when David was gone, or just pretending to be gone. That was a sense I’d lost along with my Djinn union card.
    Paul was pacing. Not good. When Paul paced, it meant things were getting serious. I could see that responsibilities were already wearing on him; a month ago, Paul had been content to be a SectorWarden, overseeing a big chunk of the East Coast, reporting directly to the National Big Cheese. But the events that had taken a hand in making me a Djinn, and then unmaking me, had changed the landscape of the association. So far as seniority, Paul was one of the few left standing who could take on the additional work. And there was, God knew, a hell of a lot to do. The stress had already given him shadows and bags under his eyes, and I didn’t remember the fine tension lines at the corners of his mouth.
    I was shocked to see him out here, chasing after me. The situation with Kevin was bad, no doubt about it, but he had a national organisation to run, and it wouldn’t run itself. I hoped he wasn’t putting personal feelings ahead of business.
    I took a seat on the couch, next to Marion, and Paul stopped prowling long enough to say, ‘Joanne Baldwin, you know Marion. Meet Jesús Farias and Robert West. Brazil and Canada.’
    Two heads nodded at me. I nodded back. Neither looked happy to be here.
    ‘The kid you’re after—’ Paul continued.
    ‘Kevin,’ I said. Paul’s eyes fastened on me for a second, then moved on.
    ‘Kevin,’ he corrected. ‘He’s got wards up around Las Vegas. Great big ones. He’s been fucking with weather systems across half the country to play keep-away with you, and that can’t go on. We’rekilling ourselves trying to keep the peace out there.’
    ‘Sorry,’ I said. I was.