Her eyes sharpened, and I waited for her to tell me she “didn’t appreciate” my sass. Instead, she returned her attention to the impossibly beautiful horizon.
“They’re coming,” she whispered, and the tears that had threatened spilled down her cheeks like rain.
The last time Ruthie had said “they’re coming,” I awakened to a berserker in my room. The thought of meeting whatever was making her cry had me trying to wake myself from my dream so I could face the newest nightmare. But I couldn’t move, couldn’t break free of the glaringly empty backyard where children used to play.
“Jimmy,” I said. “He’s alone.”
“He’s been handlin’ things for years without you.”
“I thought I was supposed to help him.”
“There’s helpin’ and there’s helpin’. You’re a seer, not a DK.” She frowned, listening again, then spat out a word I’d never thought to hear Ruthie Kane use, especially in paradise. “Times are hard. We’re gonna be a little short on help. You’ll be the first demon-killing seer in history. Congratulations.”
“What? I’m not a breed. I don’t have any superpowers.”
“You will.”
Aw, hell.
“Go on back now. Save whoever you can, and know”— Ruthie touched my arm, and I saw a sign, a road, a town—”the rest will be here with me.”
Lightning flashed from a sunny sky, followed by a crack of thunder that made me flinch and close my eyes. I woke up in the car. The only light on the highway was the garish golden beam of our headlights splashing across black asphalt.
I peered out the window. Acres upon acres of flat, flat land. Very few trees.
“Iowa?” I guessed.
“Kansas.”
From the look of things, same difference.
In the glow of the dashboard, Jimmy’s skin had a pasty hue, but his eyes were alert. He held himself as if he were ready for anything.
“Why’d we get off the freeway?” I asked.
“You mumbled ‘Hardeyville’ in your sleep. When I saw the exit, I figured it was a sign.”
Just then a billboard flashed past on our right, entering HARDEYVILLE —POPULATION 1256.
“Guess so,” I murmured.
The place appeared exactly as it had in my dream vision. Why wouldn’t it?
The highway ran through the center of town, becoming Main Street at the first intersection. Not a stoplight in sight. I doubted there were too many traffic jams in Hardeyville.
The buildings were old, mostly brick, occupied by the types of businesses necessary to keep a small town alive— grocer, hardware, barber, physician. Residential roofs spiked on each side road that shot off from the main drag.
The place was eerily silent. Sure, dawn hadn’t even begun to lighten the horizon, but as I lowered my window, I didn’t hear anything—not a dog, not a bird, not the distant hum of a plane, train, or automobile.
“What are we dealing with here?” Jimmy asked.
“Not a clue.”
“I hate going in blind.”
“I hate going in at all.”
“You’re staying in the car.”
I snorted. “Not.”
“Lizzy, you’re a seer.”
“According to Ruthie, I’m both.”
He glanced at me, then away. “You talked to her?”
“How do you think I knew about Hardeyville?”
“Dumb luck?”
“Yeah, that always works.”
“If she told you to come here, why didn’t she tell you what was here?”
“I’m getting the impression that ‘easy’ isn’t in my job description. So far I’ve had to touch the Nephilim to find out what they are.”
“That’s going to get old fast,” Jimmy muttered.
“It already is.”
Sooner or later, more than likely sooner, I was going to touch one monster too many.
Jimmy cursed, low and vicious, and I glanced at him with a start. He stared out the passenger window. I turned my head and froze.
Something furry, actually several somethings, more like a pack, with long, spindly legs and massive heads, slunk down a side street in the opposite direction.
“I didn’t think there were any wolves left around here,” I murmured.
Jimmy slid the Hummer over to the curb. “There never are.”
Chapter 14
Jimmy reached beneath his seat to retrieve his gun. I felt beneath my own but wasn’t so lucky.
“Stay here.” he repeated, and got out of the car.
I might not have had any DK training, but I had been a cop. I could shoot things. Hit them too.
I opened the door and followed him to the rear of the Hummer. The back end was a traveling armory. Guns, ammo, knives, forks—what would he do with those?— swords, syringes.
“I can see why you didn’t want to ditch it,” 1 said.
“Get. In. The. Car.”
I reached for a box of bullets clearly marked silver and a rifle while I was at it. I grabbed a pistol, too, and the appropriate ammo. Never could tell when you might need both short-and long-range firearms.
“So,” I said as I began to load my weapons, “we just start shooting?”
“Dammit, Lizzy.” He grabbed my elbow, whipped me around, fury and fear at war on his face.
“I won’t let you go alone,” I said quietly. “I can’t. So don’t ask it of me.”