Left was euphemistic, at best. Escaped with his life might have been a little more accurate, but I held my tongue. Wasn't Marion's fault that she had the job of getting rid of the Wardens' most dangerous problems. In fact, I was happier that she had it than anyone else I'd ever met; at least she was fair, gentle, and strong. Nobody liked an incompetent executioner.

"Freed," I said on his behalf. "Lewis set them free himself because he doesn't believe in keeping Djinn as slaves."

And then I realized what I'd just told her. What she'd witnessed, here in this room.

She knew that Djinn could exist outside of the bottles, now… that they could live on their own terms, with power and significance. That they could interact with us freely.

Just what I didn't want the Wardens to know.

Only Marion hadn't exactly looked shocked.

"You already knew about the Free Djinn?" I asked. She inclined her head. "How?"

"I'd be a fool if I didn't."

"Does anyone else-"

I got her warm smile. "There are many fools wearing the symbol of the Wardens. You ought to know that, Joanne. Truthfully, they're so caught up in their own lives, I doubt they notice much else. The world is full of secrets, anyway. Most people see what they want to see, and nothing more. I sometimes think it's the secret to sanity."

The Ma'at were buzzing around me. Lazlo was saying something, fairly loudly, about the Ma'at not being soldiers, which was true enough; I didn't hold it against them. Besides, I wasn't absolutely sure I trusted any of them to have my back, not against Quinn. He'd been part of their organization for too long for them to disavow him now.

Rahel was watching me, arms folded. Smiling.

"Well?" I asked. "Just the three of us?"

"Four," said a new voice. Lewis levered himself out of the chair, took a second to get his balance, and walked toward us. Around him, the Ma'at's frantic discussion fell silent. "I'm going."

"You can't-" Charles Ashworth began querulously, then shut his mouth with a snap when Lewis cut a look his way. "Fine. Kill yourself, then. For my part, I'm finished with this nonsense."

He turned and walked away, flourishing that damn cane to shove people out of his way. Rahel evidently thought by her grin that this was the best entertainment she'd had in years. She got in his path and blocked the door. They played a silent game of keep-away until Ashworth decided his dignity was worth more than a dramatic exit, and tried to look like it was his own idea to stay.

"That is, if you want me to go," Lewis said dryly, and I realized that I hadn't acknowledged the effort it had taken for him to rise and walk. Maybe his pride was hurt. I hadn't exactly come over to weep on his collar about how glad I was he'd survived.

I was, in fact, glad, but damn if I was going to show it now. There was work to be done.

"Depends. You going to fall over?" I demanded. He had his own cane in hand. It was starting to look like as much of an affectation as Ashworth's.

"Why? You going to catch me?"

"I never could resist a fainting hero," I said. As a gift horse, he was pretty creaky, but the color in his face was better, and I could feel that soothing vibration coming from him again, the one that made me feel all was right with the world in his presence. I experimentally reached out and touched his hand.

Zap. Blue sparks jumped. We both made faces and put more space between us. Things were definitely back to normal-electricity and that deceptive, seductive burning in my skin from his touch that had nothing to do with current taking the path of least resistance. I wouldn't be sharing any beds with Lewis again soon, no matter how innocent the intention. Couldn't totally guarantee my own willpower.

"So that's it? The four of us?" The Ma'at were taking themselves off as quickly as the Djinn had done… if in a less ethereal manner. A few younger ones were hanging around, mostly fascinated by the spectacle of enemy Wardens in their midst (I still couldn't bring myself to think of Lewis as Ma'at, even though I knew he was), not to mention the magnificence of Rahel in her sleek black silk.

"Five," Kevin said. His voice cracked on the word.

We all looked at the kid, then at each other. "Not like I'm joining up or anything. It's just… he killed Siobhan. And you can't leave me here. With them."

Whether it had been true love or not, there was suffering in Kevin's eyes. An awareness of something beyond himself, even if it had just been for one other person in the world. Even psychopaths can love. I couldn't remember who'd said it, but it seemed applicable.

We reached a sort of silent consensus, a la Ma'at, and Lewis said, "Stick close to me, kid."

Kevin's never-flat hackles rose. "So you can what, suck the rest of me dry?" We all stared at him. He flushed. "You know what I meant."

"Well, I meant stick with me because Quinn's going to see you as the biggest threat, since he'll think you've still got my powers," Lewis said. "I plan to use you as a human shield."

Kevin eyed him. "Yeah?"

"Would I lie to you? Besides, you kicked the crap out of me, kid. I'm still weak. I need the support." Oh, clever Lewis. The one thing Kevin craved and never got… respect. Responsibility.

Kevin tried not to look impressed. "Yeah, okay. Whatever."

Marion sent me a clear you-trust-him? look. My feelings for Kevin were too complicated to put into squints and eyebrow moves, so I just deadpanned. Truth was, I suspected Jonathan felt something for the kid, too, and that would help us. Quinn had a lot of liabilities he didn't yet understand.

"Stupid question," Marion said apologetically, "but exactly where will we find him? We can't track the Djinn, not even Jonathan. Unless you…?" She addressed it to Rahel. Rahel shook her head. "Okay, then how do we find him?"

"Jonathan told us," I said.

She looked mystified. "He was cut off in midword."

"Doesn't matter. I know what he was trying to tell me." I turned to Ashworth, who was glaring at me with undisguised contempt. We weren't mending any fences, I sensed. Not that I was worried about it much. "Your son's house," I said. "Fantasy Ranch. The one in White Ridge. Do you still own it?"

"No," he said, and turned to go. Rahel blocked him again. Glaring ensued.

"Who bought it?"

Ashworth's hand tightened on the cane; I watched the knuckles go white. "I'm sure you already know," he said.

"Thomas Orenthal Quinn." I didn't have the slightest doubt. "Keeping it all in the family."

"I never liked the slippery bastard." Ashworth kept walking, cane stabbing carpet. "Go and be damned. Do me the courtesy not to die in my son's house, if you please." This time Rahel stepped aside and let him exit with dignity intact.

White Ridge. Fantasy Ranch. Orry.

I was going back into my worst nightmare, but at least this time, I wasn't going alone.