Gale Force Page 0,97

the edge of a cliff, and were still trying to figure out which way was up.

"That's the other part of the story," Lewis said. "The simple answer is magic. The more complicated answer is that the world around you is not how you imagine it to be - it's deeper and stranger than you know. For many thousands of years, the Wardens have guarded humanity, and we've done it in silence, in secret. But it's time to come out in the open, because now we have a very serious threat to deal with."

"What kind of threat? Does this have anything to do with what happened at the motel?"

I wondered if the question was a plant. Lewis wasn't exactly above that kind of thing, bless his soul. He wasn't particularly worried about our impartial image.

"Let me tell you," Lewis said, "about the Djinn, and the Sentinels."

David and his strike team misted into view at the bottom of the steps, right in front of the cameras.

All hell broke loose.

We'd intended to grab the world stage, and we did. The feverish speculation occupied every news channel, every broadcast on the local level. Experts talked about a massive hoax; scientists sneered; magicians explained how all we'd shown on television could have been done by mirrors and illusion.

But it didn't matter. We'd taken the Sentinels by surprise. They'd expected us to hide, and we weren't hiding. Instead, we'd thrown their name into the public awareness, and we'd given them the one thing I knew they didn't want: notoriety.

I was the lucky one. Exhausted by the efforts of the day, not to mention the lightning strike and the management of the storm I'd leveled over Miami, I collapsed on a cot and slept for six hours of blissfully ignorant darkness. Lewis didn't sleep at all. When I woke up, he'd already issued three more press statements, and a whole packet of information about Bad Bob, including his photograph.

The Sentinels could not be happy about that. They were even less happy, I imagined, over the announcement that David and I planned to celebrate our marriage in public, in front of all the cameras we could gather to document the affair. It was a trap, a perfectly obvious one, and one I didn't think they dared pass up. The Sentinels had gathered membership on the idea that the Djinn were toxic to us; they couldn't allow the two of us to make such a public commitment without striking. Hell, they'd already ruined two wedding dresses.

Pulling together a last-minute affair is surprisingly easier than planning something more formal. Once I gave up the idea of catering and open bar and invitations, things simplified dramatically. All I really needed was a minister, a dress, and of course, as much security as possible so that we all survived the happy day.

My cell phone was ringing off the hook. Mostly, it was Wardens who hadn't been given the heads-up about going public, and were blistering my ears off. One or two said they were going to complain to Paul, which stabbed me deep and hard all over again. Paul had been a part of my life for so, so long, and now . . . now all that was tainted. I couldn't even begin to imagine how much it would hurt, when I had time to actually feel again.

One of the few welcome calls was from Cherise, who had checked herself out of Warden witness protection and was boarding a flight for Miami, "because you're so not getting married without me, bitch. Where else am I going to wear that dress?"

One major side benefit of becoming instantly famous - or infamous - was that I no longer had to shop. Instead, I was under siege from local bridal stores all trying to throw dresses my way, under the theory that a little discreet promotion never hurt anybody. I never thought I'd have a sponsored by wedding, but I had more to worry about than my ethical standards.

Principally, I had to find a dress in my size in less than twelve hours that didn't suck.

That, it turned out, was far easier than it seemed. Instant organization . . . just add Cherise.

"I booked the Palms," Cherise said after bursting into the FBI offices, giving me a fast, fierce hug, and giving Lewis a warm peck on the cheek.

"You - wait, what?" I blinked, and so did he. I was barely out of the coffee-zombie stage, and Lewis was well into his must-have-sleep cycle.