they can destroy the structure and power of the Djinn. You were right, Jo. I didn't believe it, but you were right. They've found our one true weakness, and I don't know how we're going to defend against them. Maybe Ashan was right. Maybe the only way to win is to withdraw."
"And leave us to fight alone."
He turned toward me, and I saw the fury and frustration in his eyes. "Yes." His hands clenched and unclenched. "The book. We need to get it to his vault. I don't want it out where anyone can stumble across it." He forced some of his anger back with a visible effort; it wasn't directed at me, but at the world. At Bad Bob. "I'm sorry, Jo. I can't touch it. Can you carry it?"
I picked up the weight reluctantly, afraid that even latched it might still have the power to seduce me, but it was quiet. Just leather, paper, ink, and iron.
Just a book that held the secrets to destroying an entire race.
No wonder it felt heavy.
The vault - of course a mansion like this would have one, along with a genuine, honest-to-God panic room - was crammed with stuff. Valuable stuff, to be sure. I was no expert, but I knew that early comics were worth money, and he had shelves full of them, each carefully bagged and labeled. Coin collections. Stamp collections. Toys. Rugs. Artifacts. I edged into the big steel-cased room and waited while David reorganized the collections enough for me to put the book down in an open space on a table. "Does he ever sell any of this stuff?" I asked.
"No," he said, moving a collection of what looked like vintage one-sheet posters. "But he buys a lot on eBay. Put it down here."
I did, gratefully, and stepped back from it. So did David, letting out a slow breath.
"Ortega," I said. "Is he going to be okay?"
David didn't answer. I understood a lot in that moment - his frustration, his anger. There was a good deal of self-loathing in there. David was not Jonathan, who'd held the position of Djinn Conduit before him; he wasn't naturally the kind of man who could make ruthless, cold decisions and sacrifice his friends and family when necessary. Lewis was like that. David was more like me - more willing to throw himself in front of the bus than push someone else, even if it was the tactically right thing to do.
"He'll be okay," I said, and took his hand. "It's a simple enough job, and they won't be looking for Ortega. Hell, I'd never have had a clue he was a Djinn if I'd met him in any other context."
"I know," David said. "I just wish I'd told him that I didn't blame him for trading the other copy of the book. I don't. His obsession is to collect things. Ortega has always been an innocent when it comes to humans; he could never see the potential for evil in them. That's why Bad Bob took advantage of him."
"He doesn't seem very . . . Djinn."
David led the way back out of the vault and swung the massive door shut, then spun the lock. "No," he agreed. "Ashan wanted to destroy him completely. I wouldn't allow it. Ortega doesn't have much power, for a Djinn - barely more than a human. He's never been able to really become what he was meant to be."
"Which is?"
"Cold," David said. "Like the rest of us."
I kissed his hand. "You're not cold."
He looked at me, and I saw the shadow of what he'd done haunting him. "I can be," he said. "When I have to be."
We went back downstairs, edging through the boxes, trying to find empty space. Ortega had left himself a small nest, a room filled with the most beautiful things of his collection . . . exquisite crystal, breathtaking art, blindingly lovely furniture. I hated to sully it with my human presence, but my feet were tired, and the Victorian fainting couch was exquisitely comfortable.
David didn't sit. He paced. None of the beauty touched him; he was focused elsewhere, on things far less lovely. I used the time to make calls; Lewis had been maneuvering Wardens slowly into position in Florida, using his most trusted people as well as the Ma'at, who still were outside the Warden system and therefore would be more trustworthy in something like this, if less powerful. I broke the news about Bad Bob - which was met