The ship was maneuvering up to the docks, and I could see, in the distance, a massive presence of cars, vans, and trucks. I nudged Lewis, who was standing next to me at the railing. What is that?

The transportation you arranged, he said. Cars and vans to shuttle people where they need to go.

All of that?

Plus the press.

My palms immediately got damp, and I scrubbed them against my blue jeans. Whats our plan to handle them?

Benign neglect. Were going to be neck-deep in Apocalypse tomorrow. I cant see how issuing a press release is going to make a damn bit of difference, so were not talking.

Worked for me. Davids going with me. To the Oracles.

Lewis didnt take his eyes off the docking process. Good. I didnt like sending you alone. He paused, and then said, very quietly, I dont like sending you at all. You know that. Yeah, and I knew why. So did David. Uncomfortably personal territory, so I skipped it.

Its a dirty job, but thats why you picked me to do it, I said cheerfully. Besides, if I can pick up some of my powers along the way, this might not be the rush to martyrdom you think.

Its a big if, Jo.

Its a gi- normous if. Not to mention an embarrassingly large how. So lets not dwell on it. Besides, youre the one going up against Djinn and insane planets with a grudge. Ive got the easy job.

He shrugged, because I wasnt wrong. Nobody was guaranteed to come out of this thing with a whole skinLewis, the most powerful Warden in several hundred years, least of all. The more powerful you were, the more the bad things tended to want you dead. At least, in my experience.

Which meant I was practically bulletproof right now, ironically. I literally wasnt worth noticing. Was that a comfort? I really wasnt sure.

Youve been taking the hits for a long time, Lewis said. He hadnt even glanced at me, but he could read me just fine. Let the rest of us get the battle scars for a change. Were big kids.

Did I ever say you werent?

No, but your hero complex scares the crap out of me, Lewis said, and straightened up. Here we go.

I thought he meant that we were ready to disembark, but he turned toward me, and before I even knew he was intending to do it, he kissed me. Not one of the desperate kind of kisses hed given me in the past, none of that longing or anguish or pure lust I knew was still locked up inside of him. This was surprisingly . . . pure. Chaste.

It was a good-bye kiss.

I didnt fight it.

He didnt say another word, and it wasnt necessary. I watched him stride away, already calling orders to the Wardens who flocked around him like birds, swooping in to get instructions and then breaking off on their own.

That left me alone at the rail, until I sensed a warm presence next to me, and looked over to see that David had joined me. He had no particular expression on his face. It was juststudiously neutral.

You saw, I said.

Yes. I know what it was, he said. And hes right. We might never see him again. Id kiss him myself, but he might kill me.

Which made me laugh, as he intended. Though, knowing how ancient David was, I wasnt entirely putting that kind of flexibility past him, either. Youre a good man, I said.

Am I? He frowned down at the docks, as if it was a difficult question. Maybe I was, once. Maybe I can be. But Ive done a lot of things that wouldnt qualify as good. I thinkI think this is a chance to remember what that means.

Bullshit, I said crisply. Were not in the navelgazing business, my love; were in the world-saving business. Dont you forget it.

That surprised a smile out of him, a spark that reminded me of the fire hed had before . . . before the island, and that black corner. I wont.

Cherise arrived, out of breath, rolling two suitcases. She had on a Miami- length sundress (as in, just too long to qualify as a shirt, and illegal in forty-nine other states), clunky platform shoes, an enormous sun hat, and designer sunglasses. Very Cher. Well? she snapped as she breezed on past us, leaving a smell of crisp lemony perfume in her wake. Hustle it up; what do you thinkthe world isnt ending or something? I am not holding a cab for you slackers! Kevin trailed her, looking as slouchy as ever but somehow a little less unkemptmaybe Cherise had been after him with a combdragging two more suitcases. Considering wed come on this journey with almost nothing, that was quite an accomplishment. Only Cherise could pump up her wardrobe while evading death. I generally just ruined mine.

David offered me his arm. Shes right, he said. So are you. Fight first; introspection later.

Were going to make it, I said. You believe that, right?

He looked aroundat the seemingly normal sea-front, at the Wardens disembarking from the ship, at the world all around us. And he said, softly, Not all of us.

I shivered.

Four in a cab was a stretch, but we voted Kevin to sit up front, much to the displeasure of the driver, who groused about rules and such until I tossed money at him. The money had been issued to all of us out of the ships treasuryanother thing that was going on the Wardens already staggering tab for saving the world again. It wasnt going to be enough, but it was enough to get us moving, and that was all that mattered.

I had the driver drop us at a car rental placenot Avis and Budget, which were already swarming with Weather Wardens attempting to secure their own preferred methods of transpo, not liking what Id booked for thembut a luxury place, where I plunked down the gold American Express Warden card to the clerk behind the counter. She was a professionally lovely girl, the way a lot of South Beach ladies are, and she had a practiced, customer-service-approved smile. What kind of vehicle are you

Whats the fastest car you have? I asked.

Um . . . She glanced down, and Im pretty sure she would have frowned except that the Botox no longer allowed that particular expression. Not that I wasnt in favor of Botox; I was starting to develop some disturbing furrows in my own brow. We have a Porsche Carrera. . . .

Something that seats four, I said.

Comfortably, added Cherise.

Okay, well, we have a classic Mustang that I understand is really fast. . . .

I couldnt believe my ears. What kind of classic Mustang? Because with my luck it would be a 1974, which was the start of the Mustang Dark Ages.

Its a Boss 429, she said, reading from a card with the air of someone who really didnt speak the language and was sounding it out phonetically. From 1970.

She hadnt even thought about being born when Ford had rolled that racing car off the assembly line, but my heart was starting to pound. Seriously? Youre sure its a Boss 429?

We just got it in, she said. It has about sixty thousand miles on it.

I swallowed hard and tried not to get my hopes up. Can I see it?

She gave me another professional smilenot quite as polished as the last oneand then brightened the wattage considerably at David. Sure, she said, and nodded to another woman, identically lovely (only with dark hair), who came from the back to take her place at the counter. Out we wentalthough Cherise left the mountain of suitcases sitting in the lobby, thankfullyinto the parking lot behind the reception building.

It was like a candy store for car addicts. Seriously. There were a lot of very rich people in Florida, and a lot who visited, and this was their toy box. Classic red Lamborghini? Choose from dozens of identical clones. Want a high-end Porsche? A Jag XJ220? No problem. Even I slowed down and stared as we passed the sleek, rounded chassis of what surely couldnt be . . . Hey, I said, and pointed. Bugatti Veyron?

Reserved, our guide said. And youd need more than a gold Amex, I can tell you that.