He shook his head, then groaned and rested his cheek on his knees. “No one knew about this place but me and you.”
“You’re forgetting Springboard.”
“He didn’t know until I brought him here.”
“Well, I certainly didn’t tell anyone.” I couldn’t have.
I’d been locked in the freaking tack room, but we’d get to that later. “Why don’t you tell me what you know about chindis?”
I half expected him to blow off my question. But he answered in a voice that reminded me of my sophomore biology teacher, Mr. Desre, who’d spent the year reading to us from the textbook instead of making learning fun.
“A chindi can’t be killed with the usual weapons. The body it’s inhabiting will die, and the demon will jump to another.”
“You seem to know a lot about them.”
“I’ve seen one before.”
“And how did you kill it?”
“1 didn’t. I returned the chindi to the one who sent it by reciting a prayer of protection inside a charmed circle.” His lips tightened as he stared at Springboard. “You’d better tell me exactly what happened.”
“He tried to grab me; I fell and he started screaming, then light shot out of his eyeholes and—” I waved a hand at the body.
“No chant of protection?”
“As if I’d know one.”
“Any prayer will do.”
“Thanks for the tip. It would have been helpful before I accidentally killed him.”
“Did he touch you?”
“No.”
He leaned his head on his knees again. “There was something about killing a chindi. It’s been so long since I saw one. Let me think a minute.”
Whenever I tried to remember something, silence was best. So I sat in the dirt next to a dead man and a dead cougar and waited for Jimmy to—
His head came up; his eyes had sharpened to dark pools of onyx. He reached across the space separating us with that queer flash of speed and yanked my blouse open. The few buttons I hadn’t already lost popped, striking the ground with dull thuds.
“Hey!” I smacked his hands away; my fingers curled into fists. “You are so asking for an ass-kicking.”
He ignored me, his gaze focused on my chest.
“To kill a chindi,” he said, “all you have to do is lay turquoise in its path.’“
The stone, which lay above my heart, seemed to burn into my skin.
Jimmy reached out and lifted it, his fingertips brushing my breasts, lingering longer than they needed to. “Turquoise in the path. Coincidence?” His eyes met mine. “I don’t think so.”
“I don’t know anything about chindis, and I’ve been wearing this since—” I broke off.
“He gave this to you.”
Not a question, so I didn’t answer. Jimmy knew damn well he had given it to me. He had to have seen it when he’d been touching and kissing and suckling me not very long ago. Maybe he hadn’t really registered it being there because he was as used to seeing the turquoise nestled between my breasts as I was.
“What difference does it make where I got it, we’re just lucky I had it.”
“Luck is overrated.” He let the stone fall back where it belonged.
The tiny blue-green pebble brushed against my skin like a chill wind, and I shivered. For just an instant I could have sworn I’d felt… him.
There’d been other times in my life when it had seemed like I was being watched. Times I’d woken up sweating and frightened and sensed I wasn’t alone. But I always was.
Jimmy got to his feet and offered me a hand. I took it, but as soon as I was vertical, I let him go.
“What exactly are you saying?” I asked.
He stared at the sparkling sky. Out here, away from the city, the stars were so bright they twinkled. The moon spilled down, spreading a milky sheen over the abandoned farm, intensifying every color—the bright red barn against the May-green grass, surrounded by the blue-black sky. The picture it made would look great on a postcard. We could start a whole new tourism campaign: discover the DEMONS OF DAIRYLAND.
I rubbed between my eyes. Maybe I had left the hospital too early.
“What I’m saying,” Jimmy answered, “is that I find it a little far-fetched that someone sent a chindi. A creature that is virtually indestructible, unless a hunk of turquoise, which you conveniently wear around your neck, is cast in its path.”
“Only you and I know about this.” I frowned, fingering the necklace. “Well, Ruthie, too, but I don’t think she’s chatting with anyone else these days.”
“You’re forgetting someone.”
“No I’m not,” I said mulishly.
Jimmy sighed and switched his gaze from the stars to me. “There’s one more thing you should know about the chindi.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a Navajo spirit.”
“Shit.”
Jimmy lifted his face to the sky again as he stuck his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Yep.”
Chapter 12
“Why would he—” I stopped. Why did Sawyer do anything?
“Relax,” Jimmy said. “He didn’t mean to kill you.”