his fellow Djinn. I didn't trust any of them now, certainly not any of them who felt compelled to follow us in secret.
"I have to." No point in arguing, because I'd be arguing with the rain; he was already gone, and even though I hurriedly scrambled out after, I saw no trace of him.
And then I did, in the deep shadows at the side of the building. David was in conversation with a very tall man - Djinn - with hair too long to stand up in the nearly pompadour style he was wearing. Thin, intense, and entirely unfamiliar to me. He was wearing retro clothes, circa the mid-1950s, but he didn't seem at all Father Knows Best to me; he radiated an unfocused kind of don't-mess-with-me menace.
The Djinn's gaze fixed on me, and I saw his eyes flare into a bright crimson. He bent his head and said something else to David, and blew apart into mist and was gone.
David came back in no particular hurry, hands in his pants pockets, lost in thought.
We both got back into the car at the same time, and I dried us off, a flick of power that felt satisfyingly productive for a change. He hardly noticed.
"Who was that?" I asked. David stirred, glanced at me, and looked surprised.
"Roy," he said.
"Who's Roy?"
"One of mine," he said. "You don't need to have him over for drinks. He's not polite company. In fact, I'd rather you never met him. But he's very useful for some things."
"Such as?"
"Such as keeping an eye on Kevin and Rahel." He cocked an eyebrow at my expression. "You didn't seriously think I would let them do this without some kind of backup plan?"
Oh. Actually, I'd thought Rahel was the backup plan, but I could see his point. "So what did Roy have to say?"
"Kevin was taken from his apartment a half hour ago, along with Rahel disguised as Cherise. It was efficient. He fought, but he was contained with a minimum of effort."
If you knew Kevin, this was ominously impressive. "Sentinels?"
"I can't think of anyone else with the strength and the motivation," David said. "The thing is, they did this while they were hitting us. Which implies - "
"A whole lot of organization," I finished. "Not to mention power to burn."
We looked at each other for a long moment, and I finally started up the car again. "It's too late to change our minds, isn't it?"
"I'm afraid so. The game's in motion now, and we have to follow the play. I dispatched Roy to follow at a safe distance; he should report back when Kevin and Cherise reach a final destination. I don't think they'll be taken far."
"Meanwhile?"
He reached out and traced his thumb over my lips. "Meanwhile, we should find a place to stay that's far from innocent bystanders, and be prepared for another attack. Any ideas?"
"Yep." I put the Mustang in gear and pulled out of the parking lot, merging with the rain and traffic. "But you're not going to like it."
I'd been right, and wrong. David wasn't wild about the beach house - which belonged to the Wardens, and was normally used to host visiting dignitaries - because it was long on ocean views and short on actual security. He also wasn't crazy about staying in a location where most of the Wardens would guess we'd go, but I wanted to continue to provide some kind of attractive target for the Sentinels. Anything to give Kevin time.
At least here, the beach was private, we were nowhere close to neighbors, and if the Sentinels decided to lower the boom on us, they'd do a minimum of collateral damage.
The rain stopped about the time I pulled up in the private drive, opened the massive metal gates with a pulse of Fire Warden power, and drove inside. The entrance was heavily landscaped, mainly with palms and leafy bushes to conceal the grounds from prying eyes. It looked like the sort of place a midlevel, once-all-powerful Hollywood player would stay to get away from it all.
I made sure the gates shut behind us, and followed the winding narrow road around the curves until the white beach house emerged at the end. It was a neat little bungalow, big enough for a few people to stay out of each other's way, but not a place for massive entertainments unless you wanted to get full-body contact. I'd last been here back in my former boss Bad Bob Biringanine's time; he'd used it