Chaos Bites Part 24

Silence settled over the mountain, broken only by the distant but insistent call of Sani's mate.

"You wanna run that by me again?" I asked.

Sani blew out his breath in a huff. "If Sawyer was a ghost, he'd have come when you called, told you what he hadn't, shown you what you needed to know, done whatever it was he had to do so that he could rest in peace. But he's more than a ghost, just as he was more than a man."

"So this spell would make him a zombie? A vampire?"

The coyote shook his head.

"Revenant?" The human-like zombies my mother had raised. "Ghoul?" Raised by a witch or a demon to do an evil deed.

"You aren't listening. Sawyer would be alive again. Human." The coyote c.o.c.ked his head. "Or as human as he gets."

"That's not-" I paused, unable to go on.

"Possible?" Sani supplied.

"Good," I finished. "That's not good."

"Isn't getting Sawyer back what you wanted?"

In my land of impossible dreams, sure. But I'd also known it wouldn't happen. The most I'd hoped for was one more conversation. I'd ask Sawyer about Faith, his death, the Key of Solomon, his magic, he'd tell me everything, then he'd realize he was dead and go into the light, or the dark as the case may be. But to have him come back to life- "I don't know if it's such a good idea to raise the dead," I mused.

As far as I knew, only those with more than a pa.s.sing acquaintance with evil dragged people out of their graves.

"Good idea or not, you're going to need him," Sani said, then disappeared into the trees.

I returned the way I'd come, descending first the mountain, then the ridge, then driving past the owner's house to let her know I hadn't fallen in a gorge and broken my neck. I toyed with the idea of staying at the same motel I'd slept in last night and starting fresh in the morning, but I had a good long stretch of daylight left so I headed for the nearest large airport, which was in Cheyenne.

I'd have to leave Summer's car in long-term parking and probably pay a fortune to fly to New Orleans and rent another car, but I really couldn't spare the time to drive the length of the Mississippi-as much fun as that might be.

My hands weren't steady; I solved that by clenching them so tightly on the wheel, they ached. Then I breathed in and out until the racing of my heart matched that purposeful cadence.

There was a spell to make the dead come to life. I wasn't sure what to think about that.

My initial reaction-that it wasn't a good idea-was probably correct. However, Sani had said I'd need Sawyer, and I'd learned over the past few months that when a sorcerer predicted something, he or she was usually right.

I spent the four-plus-hour drive checking in by cell phone. As usual Megan made use of her caller ID to avoid one of her pet peeves, the word h.e.l.lo.

"Where are you? What are you doing? How's the baby?"

"Wyoming. Driving and I don't have a clue."

Silence came over the line as she no doubt decided which answer to comment on first.

"Where's Faith?"

"With Jimmy, Summer, and Luther."

"And why don't you know how she is?"

"Because I was stupid enough to call you first."

"Liz," she said, exasperated. "Moms check on their children before anyone else."

"I'm not her mom," I said sharply, my stomach jittering and my chest tightening. I'd never had one of my own, had no idea how to be one to anyone else. Faith deserved better.

"Just because you didn't give birth to her doesn't mean you can't be a great mother," Megan murmured. "What about Ruthie?"

"I'm not Ruthie." Something I continued to prove with annoying regularity.

"The kid's going to need at least one parent. You promised to take care of her, which means you're it."

"What if her real mom shows up?" And turns out to be a bone-marrow-sucking troll.

"You'll deal with that when and if it happens."

"I guess so." Note to self-look up how to kill bone-marrow-sucking trolls.

Silence descended for several seconds, then Megan said softly, "I saw the way you looked at her, Liz. The way you held her."

"Like I was going to drop her?"

An exasperated sigh whispered across the miles. "You know that b.i.t.c.hy, a.s.s-kicking, demon-killing loner thing doesn't fly with me, don't you?"

I didn't answer. Because, yeah, I knew.

"The baby was getting to you," Megan continued. "You were falling for her. Just like you fell for Luther."

I swallowed, and the fear at the back of my throat tasted like ashes. Which is what Faith and Luther would be if the Nephilim found out that I cared.

"You're wrong," I said.

"Sure I am."

"So. Everything okay by you?" I asked.

"Dandy," she snapped. "Business is good. My kids are fine."

"How's Quinn?"

"Quinn? The bartender?"

Among other things, I thought.

"Yeah, him," I said.

"Good, I guess. He comes to work on time. Drops a lot, but he always pays for it."

Would Megan ever see any other man but Max? Should she? I didn't know the answer to those questions any more than I knew the answer to a lot of others.

"Why are you in Wyoming?" Megan continued.

Not only was the reason too complicated to explain, but the less Megan knew about what I did and where I went the better.

"Never mind," she said when I hesitated. "Just be careful."

"Always am."

"No, you're not," she muttered, and hung up.

My next call was to Luther. He answered on the second ring. "Where are you?" he asked.

Faith cooed in the background. I could almost see her smiling. My chest tightened painfully. Love or a heart attack? They probably felt d.a.m.n near the same.

"Where are you?" I countered.

"Summer's place."

"Faith okay?"

"You wanna talk to her?"

"No, that's-" I began, but he had already put the phone by her ear.

"It's Liz," Luther said. "Can you say Liz?"

"Ga!" Faith blasted in my ear drum.

"Ouch!"

"Ouch!" she screamed.

"Shh."

"Shh! Shh! Shhh!"

Hearing her voice made my chest loosen a little yet, oddly enough, hurt even more.

Luther came back on the line. "She repeats everything."

"You don't say?" I switched the phone from one ear to the other. "She's advancing pretty quickly." And now that I'd talked to Sani I knew why. Magic in the blood. Poor kid.

"It's lucky we're living out near the rez where there aren't too many people, not to mention the sparkly dust Summer uses to make us fade into the landscape. If anyone human saw Faith one day and then a few days later . . ." He trailed off.

"I think homeschooling is in her future."

"If the world doesn't end first. How we doin' on that, by the way?"

"Better and better. I have a lead on the Book of Samyaza."

"Shut up!"

"Shut up!" Faith echoed with the exact same inflection.

"Whoops," Luther murmured. "You want me to get Sanducci?"

"He's still there?"

"Yeah. Though he's getting twitchy. He's gonna have to go and kill something soon just for the h.e.l.l of it."

"Summer?"

"I don't think he should kill her," Luther said.

"I do."

The kid had been being a smart-a.s.s, but I couldn't resist taking a shot at the fairy, even when she wasn't around.

"He doesn't let her out of his sight," Luther muttered.

"Good." She couldn't be trusted. So why did the news that Jimmy was keeping both eyes on her annoy the c.r.a.p out of me?

"You want to tell him about the Book of Samyaza?" Luther asked.

"No. And don't you tell him, either."

"Why not?"

"I'm not sure it's true. I'll check it out and get back to you. Until then, keep your lip zipped. I don't need any help. You hear me?"

"I don't know how I could avoid hearing you when you're shouting in my ear."

"Do not tell Sanducci about the book or even that I called. Do not tell him where I'm going."

"I don't know where you're going," Luther muttered.

"Thatta boy," I said, and ended the call.

Sanducci would be on board with getting the book. What he would not be on board with was the possibility of raising Sawyer back to life. Since I might have to do just that, I'd leave Sanducci out of it.

I had a short jump to Minneapolis, where I picked up a direct flight. Once I'd strapped myself into my window seat and nodded to my neighbors, who'd brought books and appeared ready to use them, I checked out for most of the trip. I had a doozy of a dream.

I'm in a city I don't recognize, wandering among empty buildings. The only light comes from the moon, which is big and bright and full. The street is broken and torn, with large chunks of pavement and cobblestones tossed into piles, as if there's been an earthquake, or perhaps a monster sprung from the deep.

The buildings are made of stone, too, and they appear ancient, which narrows things down. There aren't a whole lot of ancient cities in America, and the ones there are-those built into the hills by the Anasazi, or the Pueblo's Mesa Verde, even Santa Fe-do not look like this. The architecture reminds me of photos I've seen of Savannah or St. Augustine; although I've never been to either of them, I can't believe they've ever been this deserted. If the Nephilim have their way, however, every city might become quite similar in the future.

The night is cool, but not cold, so either summer anywhere, or anytime in the South. I wear what I always wear-jeans and a knife, tank top and a gun, tennis shoes and silver bullets.