Rachel Caine - Heat Stroke

The author wishes to thank:

Cat Conrad

Joanne Madge

P.N. Elrod

Kelley Walters

Annie Wortham

Leah Rosenthal

Sharon Sams

Glenn Rogers

Michael Shanks

Joe Bonamassa

Kenny Kramme

Eric Czar

ORAC

SDJ

Lucienne Diver

Laura Anne Gilman

not that she personally knows all of them.

But theyre deserving of gratitude anyway.

My name is Joanne Baldwin, and I used to control the weather.

No, really. I was a member of the Weather Wardens. You probably arent personally acquainted with them, but they keep you from getting fried by lightning (mostly), swept away by floods (sometimes), killed by tornadoes (occasionally). We try to do all that stuff. Sometimes we even succeed.

But I ran into something badsomething that threatened to destroy me from the inside outand when the Wardens turned against me too, I ran for my life. I spent a memorable week looking for a man named Lewis Levander Orwell, who I thought just might be able to save my life. I picked up a friend named David along the way, who turned out to be way more then he seemed.

I found Lewis. It didnt help. I died.

Luckily for me, David didnt let it end there. But now Im still on the runonly now Im one of them. A Djinn.

At least I still have a really fast car

There was a storm brewing over Church Falls, Oklahoma. Blue-black clouds, churning and boiling in lazy slow motion, stitched through with lightning the color of butane flames. It had a certain instinctual menace, but it was really just a baby, all attitude and no experience. I watched it on the aetheric plane as the rain inside of it was tossed violently up into the mesosphere, frozen by the extreme cold, fell back down to gather more moisture on the way. Rinse and repeat. The classic recipe for hail.

Circular motion inside the thing. It was more of a feeling I had than anything I could see, but I didnt doubt it for a second; after years of overseeing the weather, I vibrated on frequencies that didnt require seeing to believe.

I gathered power around me like a glittering warm cloak, and reached out for

Stop.

My power slammed into an invisible wall and bounced off. I yelped, dropped back into human reality with a heavy thud and realized Id almost driven Mona off the road. Mona was a 1997 Dodge Viper GTS, midnight blue, and I was driving her well the hell in excess of the speed limit, which was just the way I liked it. I controlled the swerve, glanced down at the speedometer and edged another five miles an hour out of the accelerator. Monas purr changed to an interested, low-throated growl.

Dont ever do that when Im breaking a century on the interstate, I snapped at the guy whod put up that wall Id just slammed into. And jeez, sensitive much? I was just giving things a little push. For the better.

The guys name was David. He settled himself more comfortably against the passenger side window, and said without opening his eyes, Youre meddling. You got bored.

Well, yeah. Because driving in Oklahoma is not exactly the worlds most exciting occupation. And?

And you cant do that anymore. That meaning adjust the weather to suit myself, apparently.

Why not?

His lips twitched and pressed a smile into submission. Because youll attract attention.

And the fact Im barreling down the freeway at over a hundred?

You know what I mean. And by the way, you should slow down.

I sighed. Youre kidding me. This is coasting. This is little old lady speed.

NASCAR drivers would have heart attacks. Slow down before we get a ticket.

Chicken.

Yes, he agreed solemnly. You frighten me.

I downshifted, slipped Mona in behind an eighteen-wheeler grinding hell-for-leather east toward Okmulgee and parts beyond, and watched the RPMs fall. Mona grumbled. She didnt like speed limits. Neither did I. Hell, the truth is that Id never met any kind of limit I liked. Back in the good old times before, well, yesterday, when my name was still Joanne Baldwin and I was human, Id been a Weather Warden. A card-carrying member of the Wardens Association, the international brotherhood of people in charge of keeping Mother Nature from exterminating the human race. Id been in the business of controlling wind, waves, and storms. Being an adrenaline junkie goes with the territory.

The fact that I was still an adrenaline junkie was surprising, because strictly speaking, I no longer had a real human body, or real human adrenaline to go with it. So how did it work that I still felt all the same human impulses as before? I didnt want to think about it too much, but I kept coining back to the fact that Id died. Last mortal thing I remembered, Id been a battleground for two demons tearing me apart, and then Idmetaphorically speakingopened my eyes on a whole new world, with whole new rules. Because David had made me a Djinn. You know, Arabian Nights, lamp, granter of wishes? That kind. Only I wasnt imprisoned in a lamp, or (more appropriately) a bottle; I was free-range. Masterless.

Cool, but scary. Masterless, I was vulnerable, and I knew it.

Hey, I said out loud, and glanced away from the road to look at my traveling companion. Dear God, he was gorgeous. When Id first met him hed been masquerading as a regular guy, but even then hed been damn skippy fine. In what Id come to realize was his natural Djinn form, he was damn skippy fine to the power of ten. Soft auburn hair worn just a little too long for the current military-short styles. Eyes like molten bronze. Warm golden skin that stretched velvet soft over a strong chest, perfectly sculpted biceps, a flat stomach My hands had a Braille memory that made me warm and melty inside.

Without opening those magical eyes, he asked, Hey, what? Id forgotten Id said anything. I scrambled to drag my brain back to more intellectual pursuits.

Still waiting for a plan, if it doesnt disturb your beauty sleep. I kept the tone firmly in the bitchy range, because if I wasnt careful I might start with a whole breathless I-dont-deserve-you routine, and that would cost me cool points. Were still heading east, by the way.

Fine, he said, and adjusted his leaning position slightly to get more comfortable against the window glass. Just keep driving. Less than warp speed, if you can manage it.

Warp speed? Great. A Trek fan. Not that I was surprised. Djinn seemed to delight in pop culture, so far as I could tell. Okay. Fine. Ill drive boring.

I glanced back at the roadgood thing, I was seriously over the line and into head-on-collision territory and steered back straight again before I checked the fuel gauge. Which brought up another point. Can I stop for gas?

You dont need to.