Free Total Eclipse by Rachel Caine Page A

not such a great plan after all.
    “Maybe you shouldn’t drive,” David said.
    “Ha! The day I can’t drive the Boss is the day that you need to wrap me in plastic and leave me by the side of the road for the buzzards.”
    “Jo, I’m serious.”
    “So am I,” I said. “Nobody drives it but me. Those are the rules. Now get in the car . Please. I don’t need to argue, I just need to drive.”
    He didn’t like it, but he nodded and helped me in. Cherise was maintaining the rain shield above the car, which was convenient even though it worried me in a Warden sense. There were all kinds of ways to power that kind of defensive capability, but the best ways, the ones that would ultimately have the least impact on the world around us, were the most difficult to learn. Cherise was, without a doubt, just grabbing raw power and slamming it into a form without regard for how out of balance the equations fell.
    The storm had already noticed her. And it was going to get very interested now.
    Everybody piled into the car, and I found the keys and started up the Boss. His engine caught with a fierce grumble, and I threw it into reverse as another lightning bolt slammed home, this one torching a tree near the corner of the parking lot. Combined with the still-burning telephone pole, the place was starting to look like it needed to be renamed the Disaster Drive-In.
    “Sorry,” I whispered, and peeled out of the parking lot. Once I hit road speed, I began to really start liking Cherise’s shield, even if it was an energy suck monster. It was like driving under a mobile bridge, and it kept the rain from hammering the windshield, which was excellent. I opened up the Boss as we gained the access road for the freeway. When we reached the top of the ramp, I glanced over and saw three stabs of white-hot light smash down from the boiling clouds into the roof of the motel.
    The trees weren’t the only thing on fire anymore, and now there were innocent lives at risk—not just ours. The roof was burning, and it was possible that even with the rain, it would spread. The tree and telephone pole weren’t showing any signs of going out.
    “Kevin,” I said. “Get that fire out.”
    “The rain will take care of it. I don’t need to—”
    “Did you hear me ask? Because I’m pretty sure I put it as an order, not a request for your opinion. Just do it. Now, Kevin!”
    Kevin shut up and looked toward the burning roof. Seconds later, it snuffed itself out. He ended the blazes on the telephone pole and tree for good measure. Show-off. “Anything else, boss ?”
    “Yeah. Be quiet.”
    He shot me the finger, which did not shock me, and slumped back in his seat with a mutinous, pouty expression. Still not out of his teen angst, I saw. Or maybe he’d just grow up to be a pouty, petulant man. Yeah, that was going to be attractive.
    I took a deep breath and looked over at David. “Are you okay? Not burned?”
    “I’m fine,” he said. “He put it out before it did any damage.”
    I made sure I had the Boss aimed straight and steady on the nearly empty rain-slick highway, and focused on the blurring lane markers for a while. Finally, I said, “Cherise, I need you to think how it felt when you put up the shield. What made you do it?”
    “Um . . . I guess . . . I was getting wet. I didn’t like it.”
    “Okay. Are you getting wet now?”
    “Obviously not . . . Oh. Right. Okay. But I’m still wet. And kind of cold.”
    I turned up the heater and directed the blast toward the back, although I was cold and shivering, too. “Once your body is convinced you don’t need it, you’ll be able to let go,” I said. “Your instincts are controlling your power, and that’s a very bad thing, Cher.” The other bad thing, although I didn’t dare say it, was that in my experience, regular people weren’t Wardens for a reason. There were changes in body chemistry in Wardens: different nerve conduction times, subtle differences that allowed us to