Durance by Lyn Gala Page 0,26

assumptions non-shamans made.

“No, but he’s much more powerful than my guide,” Kavon said. “And he doesn’t let many people see him, so don’t mention this.”

Coretta stared at Pochi, and Kavon could see the moment that the lightbulb went on over her head. This was one of the all-powerful ifrit they had discussed. She swallowed and reached into her pocket as though touching a weapon. “Right. I’ll consider it classified,” Coretta promised in an uneasy voice, but Kavon trusted her to keep her word, no matter how uncomfortable she felt about it.

“But is this the guide you were looking for?” Les asked again.

Kavon nodded.

The ambulance started backing around the police vehicles that filled the street. Kavon avoided an urge to blow up every car in their way. That might’ve made him feel better in the short term, but it wouldn’t have gotten Darren to the Center any faster.

So he turned his attention back to Les and the shivering ball of fluff in his hand. Kavon wondered how many of the docent had been involved in their effort to stop the durance last time. He suspected it had taken many more than two. Either that or the durance had improved their fighting skills during their exile.

“What are we going to do?” Les asked. Pochi shivered and then flew into the air above Les’s hand. He wavered drunkenly for a moment before he vanished.

“Nothing,” Kavon said. “There's nothing to do. So we get to the Djedi Center and worry about the rest later.”

“It seems like ‘later’ would be now,” Les muttered.

Kavon rubbed the back of his neck. Every once in a while, he felt like a fraud, as if he had slipped through the back door when no one was watching and everyone was about to notice that he didn’t have any answers, and the rulebook wasn’t any help. Right now he wasn't sure where to even start looking for answers.

“I’m going to get Kavon to the Center. Hold the perimeter,” Coretta told Les.

“You got it,” he agreed. As the ambulance cleared the immediate traffic jam, Kavon headed for Coretta’s SUV. His phone chimed, and he pulled it out to find a text from Anita.

Still going strong

The message helped, but he still wished he was by Darren’s side.

Coretta moved toward the driver’s side. Kavon knew he was too emotional to drive, so he didn’t argue. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Save your concern for Darren.” He got in and fought an urge to order Coretta to hurry. She wasn’t his subordinate, and even when she had been, she wouldn’t have let him micromanage her driving.

She started the SUV and navigated local police cars, FBI tactical and terrorism units, emergency medical vehicles and dozens of nosy civilians who had all invaded the area.

“Oh, I can worry about both of you at the same time,” Coretta assured him. “However, Anita says he's stable. She can't say the same about you.”

“I'm not injured.”

Her sigh was almost pained. “You know that's not what I mean.”

Kavon tried to stare her down. After a minute, Kavon abandoned the attempt at intimidation. He admitted softly, “I couldn't protect him.”

“He’s alive. Given the scene, that’s a miracle.” Coretta’s words failed to make him feel any better.

For several minutes they drove in silence. The faint chatter on the FBI radio was the only sound in the SUV. “White is going to want to report about how you managed to take your vacation at ground zero tactical nuclear strike.”

“Is it that bad?” Since Kavon had no affinity for dead magic, he wasn't sure how much power managed to soak into the area.

Coretta raised an eyebrow. “I'm fairly sure my magical objects got fully charged just by standing in the middle of the street. I have never felt a magical sink like this one. There's more magic on that street than there was at Arlington when that asshole tried to set up his own kingdom.”

Kavon doubted that. But then O'Brien had been working with shamanic magics, so Coretta would not have been able to feel most of them. “What's the equivalent of a hazmat cleanup crew for magic spills?” Since shamanic power was living, it tended to rejoin nature quickly. Only large pools of shamanic power led to the disconnected, dead magic that users could manipulate. And only dead magic would linger in an area.

“Good question. We don't have one.” Coretta sounded particularly unhappy about that. “Every magic user on the East Coast is going to show up, and there's enough power here to keep