Gale Force Page 0,29

phone, then called Warden HQ and asked for a trace of the last call.

I got nothing. It would take a Fire Warden to disrupt the sort of trace we used, but clearly, our enemies were ourselves. That didn't bode well for a long-term solution.

I was trying to decide how much of this - if any of it - to tell David, when the doorbell rang. It took me a few long seconds to lever myself out of the chair, put my laptop aside, and go to answer it. The apartment was cool and quiet, except for the distant, constant sound of construction on the other side of the complex, where they were repairing fire damage.

When I got to the door, there was nobody outside. I looked right and left, frowning, and remembered to look down.

It was a delivery service package, plastered with labels. I didn't remember having ordered anything, but maybe someone had sent me a get-well present. I reached down for it, but as I did, David came up the steps at the end of the hallway and turned toward me with his luminous, lovely smile.

Now that was the best present ever.

"What are you doing up?" he asked as he came closer. He was tossing newly minted apartment keys in his hand; I'd insisted that if he was going to marry me, he'd have to start doing more mundane, human things, too, such as unlocking doors the standard way, and knocking before entry. He'd found it funny, of course. But he humored me.

"Just getting the package," I said, and bent down again to pick it up.

As my fingers closed around it, David asked, in pure puzzlement, "What package?" and it hit me like a speeding express train - I was already feeling worse. Woozy. Something was wrong here.

And he couldn't see the package.

Oh God.

"Get Lewis," I said, and backed away, into the apartment. "Get him fast, David. Go!"

He didn't waste time asking what I was on about; he just blipped away, moving faster than light could follow. I slammed the door and kept on moving, as far back as I could. I ran into the plate glass window, slid along to the opening, and stepped onto the balcony, where I braced myself against the far railing and slowly lowered myself into a deck chair. I was short of breath and sweating, and it wasn't all just nerves.

That box. Dammit. How many people had been exposed? The driver, for sure. People at the distribution center . . . I grabbed a pad of paper, threw away the lists of florists I'd compiled, and began to frantically scribble down anyone I could think of who might have touched the package during the shipping process. They all needed to be examined and treated.

I was only halfway through the list when the phone rang, and I grabbed the extension sitting next to the pad. "Lewis?" It was. "Get a disposal team over here, right now. There's a package outside my door. I think it's the same stuff as in the office building. Antimatter. David can't see the package at all. Get a team on tracing the package back through the system. People who came in contact with this thing - "

"Got it," he said. "Look after yourself. Get the hell out of there."

"I don't want to go near it, and I'd have to if I leave by the door. I'll have to climb down - " I didn't feel up to the acrobatics, not at the moment.

I didn't need to. David came out of thin air, moving fast. He picked me up, out of the chair, stepped up on the balcony railing, and off into open space without a second of hesitation. I didn't even have time to gasp before his feet hit the ground, and then he was carrying me across the parking lot at breakneck speed. He dumped me in the passenger seat of my car, took the driver's seat, and started it up with a touch of his finger to the ignition.

"David - "

He wasn't listening. His eyes were focused and distant. He had a mission, and that mission was to get me out of danger. I didn't have anything to say about it.

I realized I was still holding the phone. Lewis's voice was a faint buzz on the other end. "Right, I'm out of the apartment," I said to him. "And we're about to lose the connection. Hurry up with the disposal team. I don't want that thing