antimatter would have done the job for David. . . .

Heather handed me a pair of protective gloves, draped a heavy shielding vest around my chest,

and put a protective hood on me before she allowed me to reach into the container and pull out

the card. It was, as Lewis had told me, a greeting card-a fairly nice one, actually, with a graphic

of a wedding cake, a bride, a groom. Inside, cursive preprinted script read, Congratulations to

the happy couple!

But when I saw what was underneath, I felt cold, clammy, and sick. It said, in plain block letters

pressed deep into the paper, Sleep with the enemy, pay the price.

Beneath it was sketched a symbol, kind of a torch. The kind that peasants carry to attack the

monster-dwelling castle.

I cleared my throat and turned the card over. ''Was there anything else?'' My voice was muffled

by the helmet, but clear enough. I distinctly saw Heather shoot another of those looks toward

Lewis. ''Well?''

''Give it to her,'' Lewis said. He sounded grim and calm. ''No point in hiding anything.''

Heather brought out another container. This one had several sheets of paper that had been folded

in half-probably to fit inside the card or its envelope.

Plain white paper, no watermarking. Cheap quality. On it was printed in very small type a-I

hesitated to call it a letter, because there was no hint of communication to it. A manifesto,

maybe.

The Sentinels were declaring war on the Wardens, and they'd felt compelled to give us all their

reasons. It was quite a list, starting with a detailed analysis of why the Wardens could no longer

be trusted to put the interests of the human race first. Seems we'd been corrupted not by our own

greed or weakness, but by contact with the Djinn.

Most of the manifesto was about the Djinn, and the crazy paranoia gave me the creeps. Sure, the

Djinn could be capricious, even cruel; they certainly didn't forgive those who trespassed against

them, and turning the other cheek had never been a high priority for them. Added to that, they

had millennia of pent-up anger against the Wardens.

But even so, the Sentinels' position wasn't that Djinn ought to be treated with care and caution-

it was that none of them deserved to live. That every single Djinn in existence had to be hunted

down and destroyed for the human race to survive.

That they had to be punished for their crimes before they were allowed to die.

I felt sick, and I'd barely skimmed the thing. David hadn't been able to, saturated as it was with

antimatter radiation that rendered it effectively invisible to him, but he could read my expression

and mood like flashing neon. He stood up and said, ''Enough. Jo, enough.''

I nodded and put the manifesto back into the container. Heather sealed it and took back her

protective equipment. ''They intended that to be found,'' I said. ''So they really didn't intend the

bomb to go off, did they?''

Lewis and Heather once again exchanged that look.

I was starting to really hate that look. ''These weren't in the box with the antimatter,'' Lewis

said. ''They were in your mailbox, where they'd be found later. But they're still saturated with

radiation, enough to sicken anybody who touched them.''

No question, this was serious. If they'd succeeded with the bomb in the package, I'd be dead or

badly injured, and David . . . David would be, too. Putting tainted, taunting letters in my mailbox

was worse yet. It reminded me of the cruelest of terrorists, who detonated one explosion and

waited for rescue workers to arrive before detonating another. My friends would have been the

ones to suffer.

I tried to lighten my own mood. ''Special Delivery Guy delivers the mail, too,'' I said. ''Give

him credit, at least he's a full-service assassin. Maybe we can get him to throw in a pizza and hot

wings next time.'' All my attempt at humor did was give everybody the opportunity to stare at

me with faintly worried looks, as if they were afraid that I was going to scream, faint, or grow a

second head.

At length, Heather said, ''We're following up on anyone who goes into the hospitals for

treatment of radiation sickness or burns, but I have the feeling that a well-trained Earth Warden

could have handled these letters without lasting damage, if he was careful. Or she, of course.

And we have to proceed on the idea that whatever the Sentinels are, they're well organized and

well protected.''

Lewis nodded, acknowledging the point. He wasn't watching Heather, though; he was scanning

the faces around the table. I didn't know what he was looking for, but he stopped and focused on

Kevin. ''You've got something to say,'' he told the kid. It wasn't a question.

Kevin, who'd been staring at the table, looked up, and his face flushed red along the line of his

jaw, bringing a few pimples into sharp relief. His eyes were almost hidden by the messy fall of

his hair, but I had no problem reading his body language. Busted.

''Yeah,'' he said reluctantly. ''So, I got this message about a week ago.''

''About?'' Lewis's voice was calm and even, but I wasn't fooled. Neither was Kevin, who

looked down again at his clenched hands.

''About joining the Sentinels,'' he said. ''They told me they could use my talents.''

There was a long, ringing silence. I instinctively put out a hand to touch David's, telling him

without words to hold his temper.

''What did you say?''

Kevin cleared his throat. ''I told them I'd think about it. I figured maybe keeping the bait out

there would help.''

''Good thinking,'' I said. ''Thanks, Kev.''

He shot me a frown. ''Didn't do it for you.''

''I know. But as it seems that they're after me, I still appreciate it. Did they say they'd be getting

back to you? Give you any way to approach them?''

''Yeah. They gave me a phone number.''

Lewis let out a slow, quiet breath. ''Let me have the number.''

''No.'' ''No.''

''What?''

''No. It's my lead. I get to follow it.''

''This isn't a goddamn game!'' I'd never seen Lewis lose his temper, but that was a sharp crack

of anger in his shell of Zen. He stood up, leaning both fists on the table. ''You can't screw with

these people, Kevin. And you'd better not screw with me, either. They want Jo and David dead,

but I don't think they really care how many people they have to take out along the way.''

It was a mistake, a big one, and I knew it the second Lewis raised his voice. Kevin had been

raised by an abusive parent, and he didn't react well to things that dredged up that bitter past.

He said, without looking up, ''Fuck you, Lewis. I'm not your bitch. I don't have to do what you

say.''

Lewis started to reply, but I grabbed him by the shoulder and squeezed hard enough to get my

point across. I used fingernails. He flinched and looked at me, and I saw the light dawn in his

eyes and clear away the fog of anger. He took a deep breath and walked away from the table,

heading for the far corner of the room where Rahel sat in silent witness. Kevin's narrow gaze

followed him, just aching for a confrontation.

I said, very softly, ''Would you be willing to join the Sentinels? Go undercover?''

That brought Kevin's attention back to me with a snap, and for a second he looked his age-far

too young to be so angry and defensive. ''What?'' he asked. On the far side of the room, Lewis

turned and made a move, but then he checked himself with a real physical effort.

''You'd be credible,'' I continued. ''You're strong, you've never really liked the Wardens, and