“Then why aren’t we overrun?”
“Nephilim are beings of incredible selfishness. They certainly don’t want to give birth to something that will need their care and attention for the next decade and more. Be glad they’re that way or we’d be outnumbered to the point of extinction.”
I guess every cloud did have a silver lining, or was that every silver lining came with its own personal cloud?
“Explain why the fairies aren’t Nephilim.”
“When God closed the gates, some of the angels trapped outside had not given in to temptation. They weren’t bad enough for hell, but they weren’t good enough for heaven, so they became fairies.”
“Okeydokey.” Pretty much anything made a certain sort of sense these days.
“Fairies are unable to use their supernatural powers on anyone who is on an errand of mercy, which means all the DKs and seers. They’re fairly trustworthy.”
I scowled at the idea of trusting Summer, although really it was Jimmy who needed a good swift kick in the ass. He usually did.
“What kind of supernatural powers are we talking about?”
“They can fly.”
“Without wings.”
“Handy, yes?”
“Then why in hell did she bother with a car?”
“Flying people tend to get noticed, especially during the daytime. That skill is used sparingly.”
“What else?”
“Casting spells. Altering their appearance.” He paused, his gaze intent on my face. “Seeing the future.”
So Summer the fairy was psychic. Was that supposed to make us BFFs?
Not happening.
“Are all of the fairies on our side?”
He didn’t answer right away, perhaps waiting for me to break down and quiz him about the nature of the fairy’s psychic abilities. He’d wait a helluva long time. Unless the fairies knew how to get rid of their abilities, I didn’t have any interest in sharing info.
“Sawyer,” I pressed. “Are they all on the side of good?”
“Unfortunately, no. Some have been won to the Nephilim.”
“How do you kill a fairy?”
Surprise spread over his face, followed quickly by a smirk. “Bloodthirsty today?”
“I thought that was what I was supposed to learn— how to kill these things.”
“Fairies aren’t Nephilim.”
“But some of them are on the side of the Nephilim, which means they’re open season. So how do I kill them?”
“According to legend, fairies can be killed with cold steel or rowan.”
“In other words, I freeze a knife or shove a bush down her throat.”
“Whatever works.”
“While we’re on the subject of killing legendary beings, what takes out a skinwalker?”
He looked down and didn’t answer. I hadn’t expected him to.
“What about a dhampir?”
That question brought his head up. “You plan on killing Sanducci?”
“You never know.”
Sawyer laughed—one short, sharp burst that sounded rusty. I couldn’t recall him ever laughing before.
“Perhaps I’ll tell you one day, but not this day.”
“Why the hell not? You don’t like him either.”
“I like this world as it is, and as much as I dislike Sanducci, for now he’s necessary.”
“And when he isn’t?”
Sawyer just smiled.
I turned and watched the last wisp of dust die in the wake of Summer’s truck. “You know who she was talking about? The latest seer who died?”
Sawyer nodded, his gaze turning north once more.
He’d told me all those years ago that north was the direction of evil to the Navajo. Terrific. I followed his gaze, but there was still nothing there. Or at least nothing that I could see.
Then a sneaking suspicion entered my mind. Sawyer had trained certain seers and DKs. Were those the ones who’d been dying?
His gaze flicked to mine. “Sanducci wouldn’t have left you here with me if he truly believed I was killing members of the federation.”
“You read minds?” I’d always wondered.
“Faces,” he corrected. “You need to do a better job with yours.”
“I’ll get right on that, as soon as we figure out who the traitor is and put a knife through his or her treacherous heart.”
His lips curved. “I bet you wish it was me.”
It would certainly solve half of my problems. If, by chance, sticking a knife into Sawyer’s heart would actually kill him. I didn’t think that it would.
“Obviously I couldn’t have killed a seer in New York while I was here with you,” he pointed out.
I had no idea what he could do, but I thought it was a lot more than he let on.
Sawyer turned suddenly and headed for the hogan. Before I could register the movement, he’d already ducked inside. The woven mat, which was all he had for a door, fell back into place. I stood outside, uncertain if I should knock or barge right in. I barged in.