Doomsday Can Wait (Phoenix Chronicles, #2)(61)

"Carla said this professor interviewed the Navajo and discovered legends about the Naye'i."

"I was there," he said dryly. "I heard."

"How is it that a stranger has more information than you do?"

"My people don't talk to me."

They were scared shitless of him.

Smart people.

"You're telling me that in all the time you've been on earth you've never once heard a whisper of how to kill the woman of smoke."

"I heard things; I tried them. They didn't work." He stared out the windshield, his face a chilly mask. "Nothing does."

"So you think talking to Xander Whitelaw is a wild-goose chase?"

"No. I definitely think I need to discuss a few things with the professor."

"Oh, no, you don't," I said. "You are not going to kill Xander Whitelaw."

"Who said anything about kill?"

He didn't need to say it. His eyes screamed it. But then they usually did.

"You will not touch him," I said, then remembered Sawyer's hand going up and Carta's door slamming open. He didn't need to touch anyone. "You will not harm him in any way."

He didn't answer.

"I mean it, Sawyer. We need to hear what this guy has to say."

"And we will."

"And then we'll leave. With him in exactly the same number of pieces as he was when we got there. He could be useful in the future. Who knows what he knows."

“Who knows," he agreed.

"You won't hurt him?" I pressed.

"No."

I was surprised he'd agreed, until I remembered that Sawyer lied. A lot.

I considered dumping him out of the car, but he'd only shape-shift and lope alongside me the rest of the way. Better to have him with me so I could keep an eye on him.

He lit a cigarette before we'd gone a mile. I was tempted to tell him that Summer wouldn't like the smell of smoke in her car, but if Summer could magic away memories, she could do the same with the scent of smoke. Besides, Summer was as scared of Sawyer as anyone else with a brain in their head.

I stopped at the nearest gas station and bought a map of Indiana. I was getting quite a collection. While I was inside, I tried Summer. She didn't answer. I wasn't surprised.

I'd had no more panicked phone calls from Megan, so I had to assume my paranormal phone chain had worked. Unless a Nephilim had gotten to her and ended any chance she had of ever phoning me again. My hands shook as I hit speed dial.

"This had better be so good, I'm going to have an orgasm from the joy of it," Megan growled. In the background, I could hear water running.

I glanced at my watch and winced. Eight a.m. She was in the shower.

"Sorry," I said. "You're alive. Gotta go."

"Hang up and die slowly," she snapped.

Megan would make a great DK—if only she was half demon and not a mommy.

"Sorry," I repeated. "Just cheeking in."

"You think I wouldn't have called if there was something to say?"

"Unless you couldn't."

"Ah, hence the comment 'You're alive." "

"Bingo."

"Nothing going on here out of the ordinary." Something squeaked and the sound of water faded. "Except the new first-shift bartender is a total moron. I swear, if I didn't know better, I'd say he was trying to screw up."

I hadn't realized how much I missed her. Now that I realized, I missed her even more.

"Sorry," I said again.

"Say sorry one more time and I'll—" She broke off.

"You'll what?"

"No clue. Anything I threaten you with is going to be tame compared to what's threatening you now. You kill the bitch goddess yet?"

"Still working on it."

"Work harder."

"Gee, why didn't I think of that?"

Megan snickered. "Seriously, how's it going?"

"I think we have a lead."

"Who's we?" Megan asked casually.

"Just the general we," I lied, watching Sawyer through the station window.

He stood next to the Impala with the hot wind blowing through his long hair. The shorts, tank top, and sandals looked foolish, like putting a silly hat on a pit bull. No outer trappings could disguise the inner ferocity. Even when Sawyer was in this form, anyone with eyes could see that he was dangerous. I didn't want Megan anywhere near him. I didn't want her to even know his name.

"The royal plural?" she asked.

“Yeah, that's it."

"Don't let all this leader-of-the-light stuff go to your head."

"Believe me, I won't." That would be a good way to get my head torn off. "Have you noticed anyone hanging ground?"

"You mean the bodyguard you sent?"

I frowned. If he was any kind of bodyguard, she shouldn't have been able to spot him.

"No." Megan continued. "I haven't."

Sawyer saw me watching him and spread his hands impatiently. I guess I had been in here a while. I held up one finger. "I'm going to have to go."

"Don't worry about me," she said.