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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  TRACK LIST

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Praise for the Novels of Rachel Caine

  Undone

  "Fast-paced . . . plenty of excitement. . . . A cliff-hanger ending will keep fans eager for the next installment."

  --Publishers Weekly

  "This is a good read, full of nail-biting action, some really creepy kids, and a final chilling revelation."

  --Locus

  "A lot of action and a fast-paced plot. The cliff-hanger ending will make you want to find out what happens next."

  --SFRevu

  "Ms. Caine takes readers on a fabulous new journey and introduces us to a powerful new heroine who's been forced into a reality she's not equipped to handle. . . . Undone well exceeded my expectations, and I'm really looking forward to seeing where the series will go from here."

  --Darque Reviews

  "A fantastic start to another auto-buy series. Whether a newbie to the world of the Wardens and Djinn, or a veteran of the series, Undone will capture and thrill you."

  --The Book Smugglers

  "Superb."

  --Genre Go Round Reviews

  The Weather Warden Series

  "You'll never watch the Weather Channel the same way again. . . . The forecast calls for . . . a fun read."

  --#1 New York Times bestselling author Jim Butcher

  "[As] swift, sassy, and sexy as Laurell K. Hamilton . . .

  Rachel Caine takes the Weather Wardens to places the

  Weather Channel never imagined!"

  --Mary Jo Putney

  "A fast-paced thrill ride [that] brings new meaning to stormy weather."

  --Locus

  "An appealing heroine, with a wry sense of humor that enlivens even the darkest encounters."

  --SF Site

  "Fans of Laurell K. Hamilton and the Dresden Files by Jim Butcher are going to love this fast-paced, action-packed romantic urban fantasy."

  --Midwest Book Review

  "A kick-butt heroine who will appeal strongly to fans of Tanya Huff, Kelley Armstrong, and Charlaine Harris."

  --Romantic Times

  "A neat, stylish, and very witty addition to the genre, all wrapped up in a narrative voice to die for. Hugely entertaining."

  --SF Crowsnest

  "Chaos has never been so intriguing as when Rachel Caine shapes it into the setting of a story. Each book in this series has built-in intensity and fascination. Secondary characters blossom as Joanne meets them anew, and twists are revealed that will leave you gasping."

  --Huntress Book Reviews

  "The Weather Warden series is fun reading . . . more engaging than most TV."

  --Booklist

  "If for some absurd reason you haven't tucked into this series, now's a good time. Get cracking." --Purple Pens "I dare you to put this book down."

  --University City Review (Philadelphia)

  "Overall, the fast pace, intense emotion, cool magics, and a sense of hurtling momentum toward some planet-sized conclusion to the overarching story are keeping me a fan of the Weather Warden series. I continue to enjoy Joanne's girly-girl yet kick-ass nature."

  --Romantic SF & Fantasy Novels

  Books by Rachel Caine

  WEATHER WARDEN

  Ill Wind

  Heat Stroke

  Chill Factor

  Windfall

  Firestorm

  Thin Air

  Gale Force

  Cape Storm

  OUTCAST SEASON

  Undone

  Unknown

  THE MORGANVILLE VAMPIRES

  Glass Houses

  The Dead Girls' Dance

  Midnight Alley

  Feast of Fools

  Lord of Misrule

  Carpe Corpus

  Fade Out

  ROC

  Published by New American Library, a division of

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,

  New York, New York 10014, USA

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  Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

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  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:

  80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  First published by Roc, an imprint of New American Library,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  First Printing, February 2010

  Copyright (c) Roxanne Longstreet Conrad, 2010

  All rights reserved

  REGISTERED TRADEMARK--MARCA REGISTRADA

  eISBN : 978-1-10118501-8

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  PUBLISHER'S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  To Alan & Sivi Balthrop, and their lovely family,

  with much love and respect. Thank you for giving

  me such constant, loving support!

  To A. J. Merrifield, for being just so damn cool.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  There are too many debts to acknowledge in the course of writing this book, but I would like to gratefully recognize the following virtues:

  Prudence (from my mother, Hazel, who keeps me grounded)

  Justice (from my beta readers, blessed be they)

  Courage (from my agent, Lucienne Diver, who surely needs it to deal with me)

  Faith (from my husband, Cat, who replies to all my complaints about the progress of my book with a simple "I know you can do it.")

  Hope (from the Sales & Marketing Department)

  Charity (from my lovely editor, Anne, who gave me the time I needed)

  I am nothing without these virtues.
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  WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE

  MY NAME IS CASSIEL, and I was once a Djinn--a being as old as the Earth herself, rooted in her power. I cared little for the small, scurrying human creatures who busied themselves with their small lives.

  Things have changed. Now I am a small, scurrying human creature. In form, at any rate. Thanks to a disagreement with Ashan, the leader of the True Djinn, I can only sustain my life through the charity of the Wardens--humans who control aspects of the powers that surround us, such as wind and fire. The Warden I'm partnered with, Luis Rocha, commands the powers of the living Earth.

  I have made mistakes, in my short existence as a human. I have made promises I could not keep. I have lost those I learned to love.

  I will not let it happen again.

  Even if every instinct tells me I must.

  Chapter 1

  SO MANY MISSING CHILDREN.

  Their faces looked at me from the flat surfaces of posters and flyers, tacked to a long board opposite the row of chairs--a sad parade of even sadder stories.

  Although several young girls with brown hair and vulnerable smiles looked back at me, Isabel Rocha's picture was not on the wall. I found some comfort in that. I will find you, I promised her, as I did each day. On your mother and father's souls, I will find you.

  I had allowed her mother and father to be murdered. I would not allow Isabel to share the same fate.

  I sat with Luis Rocha in the hallway outside of the offices of the FBI, which he had carefully explained was a place where I could not, for any reason, cause trouble. I failed to understand why this hallway should be different from any other in the city of Albuquerque, but I had agreed, with a good bit of annoyance.

  Luis was in no mood to debate with me. "Just do it," he snapped, and then fell into a dark, restless silence.

  I watched him pace in front of me as his dark gaze took in the wall of photos, a tense, revolted expression on his face. He stopped, and the expression altered into a frown. He pointed one flyer out to me. "That's Ben Hession's kid. Ben's a Fire Warden."

  I nodded, but I doubt he noticed. He lowered his finger, but his hands formed into fists at his sides, emphasizing the sinuous flame tattoos licking up and down his arms. Once again, I wondered at the choice; Luis Rocha controlled Earth, not Fire. In that, he and his brother Manny had been alike, though Luis's power outstripped Manny's by leagues.

  Manny had been my Warden partner, assigned to me by the highest levels of his organization to teach me to live as a human and use my powers--for I still had some, although nowhere near as many as I had as a Djinn--usefully. How to become a Warden in my own right. Manny had been a sweet, patient soul who had given of himself to sustain me in this new life.

  And I had let him die. Now it was Luis's responsibility to look after me, and mine to never allow such a thing to happen again.

  A tired-looking man in a rumpled suit stepped outside of his office and gestured to us. As he did, his coat swung open to reveal the holstered butt of a gun attached to his belt. For an ice-cold instant I had an unguarded memory, a sense-memory of the shock and rage washing over me as I watched the bullets strike Manny, strike Angela . . .

  It's a memory I don't care to relive.

  Something must have changed in my face or my manner, because his altered in response. His eyes sharpened their focus, narrowing on me, and his hand moved closer to his body. Closer to the weapon.

  I looked away, at Luis. "He has a gun," I said.

  "He's FBI," Luis told me, and folded his arms across his chest. "He has to carry one. It's a tool for him."

  "I don't like it," I said. He shrugged.

  "Deal."

  The FBI man stared at me as if I had said or done something that alarmed him, then transferred his attention back to Luis. "Luis Rocha?"

  Luis nodded and walked toward him. I rose to follow. "That's Cassiel," he said. "You might have heard."

  "I heard," the FBI man said. "I just didn't believe it. Guess they weren't kidding." He offered me a half-nod--not a welcome, just an acknowledgment. I returned it exactly. "Inside. I don't want to talk in the hall." He looked right and left, as if someone might be listening although no one was in view except the silent, sad wall of photographs. Luis moved ahead of him into the office.

  I stopped for a moment to lock gazes with the man again. He was tall, though only an inch or so taller than I, and whipcord thin. He had a bland, quiet face and dark, oddly empty eyes, as if he hid everything except what he wished me to see. His clothing was just as bland--a plain shirt beneath a plain dark suit and tie.

  "Inside," he repeated. "Please."

  There was something about him I could not explain, something beneath the surface. It occurred to me, finally, as he swung the door shut behind me, closing the three of us within a plain box of a room with tinted windows along one wall. I turned and said, "You're a Warden."

  "Undercover," he said. "It pays to have a few of us seeded inside the various intelligence-gathering agencies, so we can keep on top of things. First time I've been contacted directly, though." His gaze found me again, very briefly. "Also the first time I've met a Djinn face-to-face."

  "You still haven't," I said. "I am no longer a Djinn." It still hurt to say it.

  "You're not exactly human either, the way I understand it. Close enough for government work," he said, and indicated the chairs on our side of the plain, institutional desk as he took the battered one behind it. "So, why come to me?"

  "Because the FBI investigates cases of missing children," I said. "And we have a missing child."

  "We," he repeated a little slowly. "The two of you."

  Luis cleared his throat and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Yeah, well, the missing girl is my niece," he said. "Cassiel's an interested party. And my partner." He let two seconds go by, then added, "Not that way, okay?"

  "Okay," the FBI man said, without a flicker of expression. The nameplate on his desk read SA BEN TURNER. "So tell me what you've got."

  I let Luis tell it, in his own way--the abduction of his recently orphaned niece, our pursuit, our discovery that the children of Wardens were being selectively abducted and taken to a hidden location, where they were being trained. Molded.

  Turner did not interrupt. Not once. He listened almost without blinking, and when Luis finally paused, he said, "So who is this you're talking about? What's their goal?"

  Luis looked at me.

  "The one who leads them was once a Djinn," I said. "You would call her Pearl. She . . . is extraordinarily dangerous, and she is insane. As to goals, I think the children--and all humanity--are insignificant to her. Her goal is much larger."

  "Larger," Turner repeated, and shook his head. "And that's officially out of my depth. So let the Djinn stop her."

  "They can't," I said. "Or won't. She's already gained enough of a foothold in this world that she can destroy any Djinn who approaches too closely. I believe that is her goal, to destroy the Djinn and replace them in the Mother's affections. She would welcome an open war, which is why Ashan ordered me to destroy her power source."

  Turner's eyebrows rose. "Sounds like a plan. What's her power source?"

  "You," I said. "Humanity. How do you feel about the plan now?" I let that sit in silence for a moment, then said, "I declined."

  Turner sat slowly back in his chair, staring at me, and then looked over at Luis again. "She's serious?"

  "As fucking cancer," Luis said. "It's still her nuclear option, if we can't get this under control and find a way to stop Pearl."

  "So out of my depth," Turner muttered, and shook his head. "And you've been in touch with Headquarters? Lewis?"

  Everybody knew Lewis Orwell, the head of the Wardens organization. Everyone also assumed that Lewis was a sort of magic button to press whenever one wanted a particular outcome. Nonsense. Lewis might be a supremely powerful man, but he was only a man. This was far beyond him, and the Wardens as a whole. They were being used, yes, but Pearl was not interested i
n them, except as levers to move the world in her direction.

  "Most of the high-level Wardens are out of contact, including Orwell," Luis said. "We're not going to find the answers there. We're on our own to deal with this, and that means we have to get creative. That's why I'm here."

  Turner was looking steadily less comfortable with the turns the conversation was taking. "If your niece is in the system as a missing or abducted child, she's already getting the full-court press from the FBI as well as local law enforcement," he said. "What else do you want me to do?"

  "Make it your case," Luis said. "You're a Warden. These are Warden children. I'll give you a list of those we've identified so far as missing, but there may be more. Maybe a lot more, if some of them were foster children, orphans, nobody to miss them. Here's the catch: In at least one case we know of, one of the parents was complicit in the kidnapping. They're recruiting fanatics, and they've been successful. Think terrorists, only with potential Warden powers."

  "Christ," Turner whispered, and briefly shut his eyes. "You've got no idea what kind of night sweats I've had thinking about that for the last ten years, anyway. We've got some contingency plans, but I still don't think they're up to the job, not for a serious threat." He focused attention back on me, speaking directly. "What can you tell me about their organization?"

  "Well armed," I said. "Paramilitary, at the very least. And they've recruited some disaffected former Wardens, or possibly artificially enhanced the powers of some who were not gifted enough to be recruited as Wardens in the beginning."

  "Like the Ma'at."

  I nodded. The Ma'at were a separate organization, a kind of shadow of the Wardens, built out of those with some hints of latent power who were not deemed to be either strong enough to train as Wardens, nor dangerous enough to receive the Wardens' typical treatment for those they rejected--a kind of psychic surgery to rip away their powers. The Ma'at had discovered it was possible to combine powers in groups, especially with the voluntary assistance of Djinn, to right the balance of the forces of the Earth--forces the Wardens seemed often to neglect to keep in the proper proportions.