What caught me, though, was the screen crawl, because it was all about disasters. Not just the storm, or its attendant deadly little brother, flooding . . . earthquakes along the New Madrid fault line, a whopping 7.5 on the Richter scalemore than twice as powerful as the biggest thermonuclear weapon ever exploded. It could have been worse; the scale went all the way up to 10, though the worst humans had ever lived through had measured a 9.5. Past that, it wasnt really going to be our problem anymore.

The quake had shaken pictures off of walls in South Carolina, and rung church bells as far away as Boston. At the epicenter of the shift, in Portageville, it was going to be much, much worse. Thered be nothing much left standing.

The Portageville quake was far from the only thing going on, aside from the storm. The screen crawl tallied up unexplained increases in animal attacks, particularly by bears and mountain lions, and an unexpected increase in poisonous snakebites in the Western states. Wildfires had started up in the deep forests, in total defiance of wet conditions, and seemed to be getting the better of fire teams andpresumablyFire Wardens.

And that was just the U.S. The devastation wasnt confined to our shores. Virtually every continent was under attack. End-of-the-world prophets were out in force already, and theyd only get loonier and louder as things got worse.

The thing was, the end-of-the-world prophets probably werent wrong on this one.

I found myself holding David for comfort. He shut off the TV, and we sat in silence, watching the afterimage burn for a few seconds before we collapsed together back to the mattress and pillows I had, just a little while ago, so greatly lusted after. Now I wasnt sure I couldor shouldsleep. My body was still exhausted, aching, and needing to find some oblivion, but my mind was playing the Blame Game. We did this. We started this. And we have to do something to stop it. People are dying.

Shhh, David whispered, and kissed my temple. His arms were warm and strong around me, even though I knew instinctively he was right now despairing of how much power hed had, and lost. How frustrated and grief-stricken he was, too. How helpless in the face of the inevitable. Let it go, Jo. You have to let it go, just for now. Rest. Please.

I didnt want to, but he seduced me into it, with the comforting heat of his body curled around mine, the steady calm rhythm of his heartbeat, his love obvious even to all my blinded senses in every touch and caress. He was being strong for me. Maybe he needed to be.

Maybe I needed him to be, too.

I fell asleep finally, wrapped in his arms, and we woke up hours later to a clap of thunder so loud it rattled pictures bolted to the wall, and set off car alarms in the parking lot. I felt blinded, instinctively terrified, and cringed against David. Clinging for comfort. How long since Id been afraid of a storm?

I got hold of myself and crawled out of bed to look out the motel room window. It was like looking into a strobe flasher; the lightning was bright, constant, and close. Thunder followed, so loud that I could see the glass vibrate under the pressure of the sound waves. The lights were out in the parking lot, and, I realized, in the room as well; even the low-level night-light glow from the bathroom had gone dark. Wed been busted back to the primitive days, hiding in a cave, cowering from the storm.

It kind of pissed me off. So instead of retreating back into the dark and hugging David, I stood there in front of the glass window, practically daring the storm to do its worst. If Id still been a Warden, it probably would have taken me up on it, toobut a normal human? It didnt even know I was there. That wouldnt keep it from killing me, just as it would ants, birds, cats, or anything else that got in its way, but it wasnt personal.

I would officially be collateral damage. Which really pissed me off.

Another eye-searing flash of lightning, and this time I saw the blue pop of a transformer blowing on a pole not far away. The pole caught fire, blazing like a creosote-smeared torch even through the driving rain. It gave the whole thing a hellish glow that was really, really unsettling.

I think we need to get out of here, I said. David was already out of bed and dressing in the darkcursing softly in a language I didnt recognize, mainly because he probably hadnt had to dress himself in the dark for, oh, about five thousand years, and in those days, there werent quite as many challenges to the process anyway. Is the phone working?

His cursing got louder as he knocked the receiver off, but paused when he checked the line. Yes, he said, and handed it to me to continue his fight with pants. I dialed Cherises room number by touch. She picked up on the first ring.

Holy crap, we need to go! she said breathlessly. Thats what you were going to say, right?

Thats what I was going to say.

So glad I didnt unpack the luggage from the trunk. Lets do it. But you go first and unlock the doors, okay? Because I am not standing out in that.

She hung up before I could tell her that the castle had called and wanted its princess back. She was right, actually. I had the keys. I was the point person for this little expedition.

Stay here until I get everything open, I told David, and tossed a towel over my head as I opened up the door. The wind promptly blew the wood back against the wall with a crash, and knocked me back two steps by sheer force before I got control and leaned into it.

Then I stepped outside, into the teeth of the monster.

I didnt dare look up, or around, or anywhere but at the Boss, sitting there with its chrome blazing in the flashes of lightning. Water was running off it in silver strings, and I lunged for the drivers-side door, got in, and manually unlocked the passenger side before diving out again, honking the horn. Cherises door opened, and Kevin ran out, heading for the other side of the car.

Cherise followed him, staggering in the buffeting wind like a post- happy-hour drunk on her clunky platform shoes. The wind definitely made that flirty little South Beach dress not safe for anywhere, but in seconds rain had flattened it securely down against her body. It was the next best thing to a swimsuit, really. Not that my shirt and jeans werent waterlogged and streaming.

I didnt feel it coming the way I would have as a Warden. I felt the hairs rise on my arms, as if trying to escape my body, and for a blank second I wondered, What the heck is that?

And then a pure white bolt of power hit Cherise.

The force of it blew me over, and if it made a sound I dont remember hearing it. The shock lasted for at least three heartbeats, and then the cold rain brought me back around and I realized that Cherise had just been struck by lightning.

I staggered up. Cherise was still standing there, exactly as she had been. Wisps of steam curled off her bare arms and legs, up from her hair, and I screamed and closed the distance fast, waiting for her to collapse into my arms.

Instead, she opened her eyes, looked at me with a drugged, blissful expression, and said, Wow. That felt . . . great.

I stopped, fighting for balance in more ways than one. She looked utterly relaxed. Unafraid. Maybe it was some weird side effect . . . ?

No, I realized. No, it wasnt, because over the two of us, the rain had stopped falling. It was running off a clear shield that enclosed us in a warm, still cone of air.

I knew what that was. Id done it myself, many times.

Not Cherise. Cherise doesnt have Warden powers. . . . She cant . . . She never . . .

The shock was slowing me down, obviously, because I should have known already. David did, as he threw open the door of the Mustang and got out again. I saw the sudden, rigid set to his body, and the way he went completely still, even pounded by the rain.