my three-inch heels weren't designed for pathfinding. With some cursing and tripping and excavating myself from spike-heeled holes, I clumped around the house.
The house had that don't-touch-me feeling that indicated strong wards and protections, but I circled it anyway, checking the windows. Yep, wards on every one, good strong ones. The yard was nice and neat as a pin, with the look of being maintained by a service instead of somebody with a passion for plants. Lewis had a very nice workshop in the back, which was devoted half to woodworking, half to magecraft; that half was warded up the wazoo, no way I could do more than just glance in the window before I had to retreat or get zapped.
Powerful stuff. That was good-I desperately needed a powerful guy.
I banged on the back door and squinted in the square of window. Still nothing moving. I could see the living room, decorated in Basic American Normal-looked like everything in it had come out of some upscale catalog. If Lewis lived here, he was a lot more boring than I'd ever imagined.
I had plenty of powerful tricks up my sleeve, but they didn't include breaking and entering. The kind of powers I possessed, over water and wind, could destroy a house but not open a door. I could have summoned a hailstorm-a small one, okay?-to break a couple of windows, but no, that would be wrong and besides, I'd probably get caught because it was pretty showy stuff. So I resorted to human tactics.
I tossed a rock at the window.
Now, I was pretty sure it wasn't going to work, but in a way it did; the rock bounced off some thick invisible rubbery surface about a half inch from the window, and the back door slammed open.
"Yes?" snarled the guy who blocked the doorway. He was big, and I mean huge-big, tanned, bald, with two gold earrings that twinkled in the sunny Westchester morning. He was wearing a purple vest with gold embroidery over rippling muscles. I had the impression of dark pants, but I didn't dare look down. Didn't matter, his chest was definitely worth checking out. Pecs of the gods, no kidding.
Just my luck. Lewis had left a Djinn at home-his own personal mystical alarm system.
"Hi," I said brightly. "Lewis around?"
He scowled. "Who wants to know?"
"Joanne Baldwin." I held out my hand, palm up; the Djinn passed his palm over mine and read the white runes that glittered in its path. "We're friends. Me and Lewis go way back."
"Never heard of you," he said brusquely. Djinn are not known for their chatty nature, or their sunny disposition. In fact, they're known for being difficult to handle and-if they don't like you-fully capable of finding some sneaky way to do you in. Not that I was an expert, exactly; Djinn were reserved for bigger fish than me, sort of the equivalent of a company car perk in the Wardens Association. I didn't even rate a reserved parking space yet.
The Djinn was still staring at me. "Go now," he rumbled.
I stood my ground. Well, it was really his ground, but I stood it anyway. "Sorry, can't. I need to talk to Lewis. Urgently."
"He is not here. Being that you are a Warden, I won't kill you for your lack of manners." He started to close the door.
"Wait!" I slapped my hand-coincidentally, the one with the rune-flat against the wood. It wasn't my upper body strength that made him hesitate, that's for sure. Even Mr. Universe couldn't have held a door against a Djinn, much less a five-foot-five woman with more attitude than body mass. "When will he be back?"
The Djinn just stared at me. Djinn eyes are colors not found in the human genome, specially formulated to produce maximum intimidation. Some of them are citrine yellow, some bright fluorescent green, and they're all scary. This guy's were a purple that Elizabeth Taylor would have envied. Beautiful, and cold as the colors in arctic ice.
"Look, I need to find him," I said. "I need his help. There are lives at stake here."
"Yes?" He hadn't blinked. "Whose lives?"
"Well, mine, anyway," I amended, and tried for a sheepish grin. He returned the smile, and I wished he hadn't; it revealed perfect white teeth that would have looked more appropriate on a great white shark.
"You stink of corruption," he said. "I will not help