Gale Force Page 0,38

Not brave. Hence, of course, the unreasonably tough shell of attitude on his van, not on his person.

He leaned against the passenger side of the van and crossed his arms; they were impressively muscled, and he'd invested a small fortune in body art. It should have made him look intimidating. Instead, I thought it made him look like someone doing hard-ass by the numbers, especially when coupled with the shaved head. "Warden," Lee said to me. He didn't so much as glance at David. I wondered why, and then I realized that Lee couldn't see him. David had made himself invisible, although he was still there to my eyes.

"Warden," I replied to Antonelli coolly, "who taught you how to park? I'd say Sears, but really, they do a much better job. Maybe you were absent the day they explained what those parallel lines in the lot are for - "

"Shut up, Baldwin. I'm supposed to pick you up and escort you in," he said. "Since whatever you've got going on is so damn important, I guess I'm riding shotgun."

This was weird, and it wasn't normal. Lewis knew I was coming; he knew David was traveling with me. Why send Antonelli, of all people, whom he knew I couldn't stand? Lewis might work in mysterious ways, but that was downright impenetrable. I bought time to think by digging a pair of big sunglasses out of my purse and putting them on. There. Without a clear view of my eyes, Antonelli was going to have a tougher time figuring out what I'd do. "Shotgun," I repeated, "so you're the bodyguard. Flattering."

Antonelli ran one hand over his bullet-shaped shaved head and gave me a grim-looking smile. "Most ladies would say so."

"Save the smarm, I'm not in the mood."

He shrugged. Flirting was reflexive for him; he didn't fancy me, except in the abstract way that somebody like Antonelli fancied anyone with internal sex organs. If I stood still long enough, he'd gladly take a turn, but other than that, I was furniture. "Playtime's over, then. Let's move. In the van."

I stayed right where I was, next to the door of the Mustang. "I'm driving my own car." Technically, David was driving, but Antonelli might not know that. In fact, he didn't look nearly worried enough, so I doubted he had any idea there was an angry Djinn standing a couple of feet away, eyes lit up like Halloween lanterns.

"Look, I don't know the plan; I'm just following orders. Lewis says take the van; we take the van," Antonelli said. "I don't ask no questions; neither do you. Come on, sister, let's go. I've got things to do."

There was a ring of sweat around the high neck of his muscle shirt, and dark streaks under the arms. Unless Antonelli had come straight from the gym, something was up. He was nervous.

"We can sort that out," I said, and pulled my cell phone from my pocket. "Let me just call - "

The circuitry inside the phone fried, boiled into vapor in an instant. I dropped the red-hot case and blew on my blistered fingers. Antonelli hadn't moved, but something about him had changed. I could almost smell it: the burned-metal bite of desperation, mingled with a coppery odor of fear.

"Get in the fucking van," he said. "I'm not playing, bitch. Don't make this a showdown; there are too many people around. Kids. I don't want to do that, and neither do you. Let's keep this calm."

Oh God, he was serious. I could tell it from the sweat on his skin, the dark shadows in his eyes. He was a whole lot more scared of someone else than he was of me.

That needed to change, right now.

I dropped my purse to the ground, glad I'd donned the sunglasses. I made sure my feet were firmly planted, shoulder-width apart, the right slightly forward to give me a more stable base.

"You're right," I said quietly. "I don't want to do this. You don't want to do this. But somehow, I think it's going to happen anyway, because I can't get in that van, Lee. Whatever's going on, I can't take the chance. Let's think this through before we both start something that will end badly."

David had not moved. Hadn't spoken. Still, I was feeling the vibration of menace from him like the subsonic pulses from a volcano about to blow; this was going to go south, very badly, very fast.

"Who is it?" I asked. "Lee, tell me who's making