Praise for the Weather Warden Series

''The forecast calls for . . . a fun read.''

-Jim Butcher

''A fast-paced thrill ride note 1 brings new meaning to stormy weather.''

-Locus

''A breath of fresh air in the urban fantasy field.''

-SF Site

''A kick-butt heroine who will appeal strongly to fans of Tanya Huff, Kelley Armstrong, and

Charlaine Harris.''

-Romantic Times

''Chaos has never been so intriguing as when Rachel Caine shapes it into the setting of a story.

Each book in this series has built in intensity and fascination. Secondary characters blossom as

Joanne meets them . . . and twists are revealed that will leave you gasping.''

-Huntress Book Reviews

''The Weather Warden series is fun reading . . . more engaging than most TV.''

-Booklist

''Caine writes with a superquick pace that carries the reader from beginning to end effortlessly.

Caine's writing reminds me of Laurell K. Hamilton in her early days. . . . Dig in to this great new

fantasy series.''

-*Purple Pens

''With chick-lit dialogue and rocket-propelled pacing, Rachel Caine takes the Weather Wardens

to places the Weather Channel never imagined!''

-Mary Jo Putney

''I dare you to put this book down.''

-University City Review (Philadelphia)

Also by Rachel Caine

The Weather Warden Novels

Ill Wind

Heat Stroke

Chill Factor

Windfall

Firestorm

Thin Air

To the librarians and staff of the New Orleans Public

Library system, struggling to return from the

disaster of Hurricane Katrina. You are truly amazing.

Almost every branch of the NOPL sustained damage

during Hurricane Katrina in 2005, and many are

still closed and in need of renovation.

Donate by visiting the Rebuild Web site:

nutrias.org/~nopl/foundation/katrinafoundationdonation.htm .

Other Gulf Coast-area libraries are also still in need

of your help. You can find a complete list through

the American Library Association:

www.ala.org/ala/cro/katrina/katrina.htm.

Please donate generously to bring books back to

those who, like us, want to believe that words can

change the world.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Joe Bonamassa, for giving me Sloe Gin and the

inspiration to do this thing.

Prologue

''Honey!'' I yelled. ''Get the phone, would you?'' It was ringing off the hook, and I was a little

busy trying to put out a fire-a wildfire, actually, blazing across Alligator Alley along the coast

of Florida. It had been burning for three long days, sending choking black smoke our way.

Never off duty, that was me. Joanne Baldwin: Weather Warden by first choice-if a world-

ending storm blew up without notice, I was the go-to girl. My secondary ability-and second

choice-was to act as a Fire Warden, which was what was occupying me at the moment. Being

an Earth Warden, helping living things heal and grow, and controlling things such as earthquakes

and volcanoes, was also something I could do, though not nearly as reliably or as well. As far as

being comfortable with the abilities, having Earth powers was still a distant, weird, cautious

third.

I stood on the balcony of my apartment building, my eyes stinging from the whipping wind and

drifting smoke, and worked magic. It didn't look like I was doing much of anything. Truthfully, I

probably could have gone inside, picked up the phone, and talked to whatever cold-calling

telemarketer was on the other end . . . but I was feeling frustrated, and I needed to do something

positive, so I was concentrating, from a distance of several miles away, on rendering burnable

underbrush less burnable. These changes would have to be undone later, for safety, but they

made dandy firebreaks in the meantime.

Of course, I was interfering with Fire Wardens and Weather Wardens who were already doing

their assigned jobs. Well, that was why I was the boss, right? That was what bosses did-

interfere. (My bosses always had, anyway, although come to think of it, I hadn't liked it much

when I'd been on the sticky end of the problem.)

The phone quit ringing. Good, I thought. Maybe they'd just given up.

The glass door behind me rumbled open on its track. I didn't turn away from the railing until a

man's hand dangled the phone over my shoulder. I looked at the phone delivery service,

eyebrows raised in silent question; David just raised his own in response.

David was always fantastic on the eyes, but he was especially great just now, at sunset, when the

red sky picked up bronze tints in his skin and highlighted supernatural sparks in his eyes. Oh, his

eyes-currently the rich, dark color of old pennies-were taking on a brighter hue as I watched,

because although David was currently wearing human form, and liked to wear it a lot, at a DNA

level he was something completely different. We call them Djinn, because the old tales of those

supernatural creatures able to do humans' dirty work were somewhat true.

Of course, these tales were also a whole lot not true, as I continued to learn every day.

David was only half dressed, in a pair of worn blue jeans riding low on his hips. There was a lot

of tempting gold-dusted skin on display, and so much to admire, from broad shoulders to abs that

would make a Greek statue cry with envy.

He usually had a shirt on, but then, David was actually more modest than I was. At least, in

public. In private . . . well. Let's just say that when David played at being human, he brought his

A game.

David waggled the phone again, significantly. I blinked and took it, thinking that the last thing in

the world I wanted just now was to get distracted from enjoying the view. ''Hello?''

I wasn't prepared for the volume-or the tirade– that erupted out of the phone. ''Joanne, would

you please butt out already? Jeez, woman, we can save the world without you! Just go relax! Do

you even own a dictionary? Vacation! Look it up!''

The voice on the other end was Paul Giancarlo, one of the most powerful element-controlling

Wardens in the country. He happened to specialize in weather work; he was also one of my

oldest surviving friends. The tone was a strongly Jersey-accented bellow, barely contained by the

phone's speaker. I held the phone farther from my ear. ''Oh, hey, Paul,'' I said. ''So. How's that

fire going?''

''The fire is going fine, and you need to quit screwing around. You are not on duty. I have

coverage on the damn fire, and you need to stop-''

''Helping? Thought you needed it. Because three days is kind of a long time to be breathing

smoke-''

''Kid. Stop already. We're on top of it!''

I doubted that. ''Let me talk to Lewis.'' Lewis Levander Orwell, my old college buddy and part-

time crush, was the only guy in the entire Wardens organization who still had the right to tell me

what to do, a fact that made me a little smug and-yes, I could admit it-a little insufferable.

''Lewis doesn't want to talk to you. Lewis wants me to tell you to butt out. Get it? You're on

vacation. Vacate already.''

Before I could fire back, Paul hung up on me. I stared at the phone, surprised and a little

wounded.

David took it from my fingers, put it on the patio table behind me, and said, ''I assume he told

you that you aren't needed right now. No, actually I don't assume that. I overheard.''

''Eavesdropper.''

''People three doors down heard it,'' he said. ''It wasn't a great feat of supernatural detection.''

I glared at him for a second, but honestly, I couldn't stay angry at David, especially when he