unholy orange glow, and then turned and threw the fireball straight at the doors. It hit and detonated with enough force to blow the doors open and off their hinges.
He walked out.
"No," I said, and put out a hand to stop the guards who started after him. "No, let him go. If he wants to leave, let him leave. This isn't over, but there's no point in destroying the place. Again."
That got a weak wave of nervous chuckles. Some of the Wardens out there looked as if they were suffering a PTSD moment; I completely sympathized. This was turning out to be less theatrical and more gut-wrenching than I'd ever intended, but I supposed that was a good thing, ultimately. It's for his own protection, I reminded myself. If the Sentinels can't buy his defection after that, it can't be done.
But I was going to have a hell of a lot of fence-mending to do. And I felt filthy inside, as if I'd dragged my soul through a sewer.
Lewis took my hand, out of sight behind the podium, and squeezed. He knew what I was feeling. I moved back to let him get to the microphone, and he said something to close the meeting. . . . I wasn't really listening. I was staring at the smoking, destroyed doorway where Kevin had made his grand exit.
God, please, watch out for him, I thought. If anything happens to him . . .
Lewis must have finished, because in the next moment people were getting up in the auditorium, chattering excitedly, making their way toward the exits. And Lewis put his hand at the small of my back, guiding me off into the shadows at the back of the stage, where he whispered, "I think it was all right."
"Brutal," I said. My voice sounded strange. "I didn't want to put him through that."
"He signed up, Jo. It's something he wants to do. Let him be a hero for once."
"Yeah, well, it's hard to just stand by and watch."
"No kidding," he said, and smiled a narrow, bitter smile. "How the hell do you think the rest of us feel about watching you?"
I got a lot of "That was uncalled for!" supportive comments on the way out, but not quite as many as I'd expected; the majority of Wardens seemed to want to stay out of the line of fire. Couldn't really blame them for that; most of them had reason to be gun-shy.
What bothered me was the significant number who seemed to be huddled together whispering in the halls, who fell silent when I came near. I felt stares on me all the time. A few nodded, but it didn't feel like support. None of them were my friends, and most of them were people I knew only by reputation. Were they Sentinels? Potential recruits? No way I could tell, but it made the back of my neck itch.
Lewis escorted me to the elevators, staying protectively close. We'd agreed that David should stay away for this part; it would have been harder with him in the room. So Lewis was taking his bodyguarding duties seriously, even in the relatively secure confines of the Warden's own halls.
"You really think somebody's going to try to take me out here, with all these Wardens around?" I asked, as we waited for the elevator to arrive. He had his hand on my arm, and he didn't smile.
"Let's just say I'm not counting on anything right now. Where's David meeting you?"
"Downstairs in the parking garage." I shook free of Lewis's grip. "Honestly, back off, would you? I'm not glass, and I can take care of myself. I'd have thought I'd proven it by now. I'm a big girl. I can ride the elevator all by myself."
I could tell he was just itching to go all macho and protective on me again, but he managed to hold himself back, raising both hands in surrender and stepping away. "Fine. Just don't come crying to me if you end up dead. Again."
The elevator's arrival saved me from having to make a snappy reply. I got in, a few other Wardens crowded after, and I saw Lewis make a visible effort to stay where he was. I'll be fine, I mouthed as the door slid closed.
I wished I were as confident as I appeared to be.
Still, nobody tried to kill me on the way down, although a few unfriendly looks were thrown my way by one or two of my fellow vertical travelers.