“But she didn’t know exactly where I’d gone. Neither did you. 1 only said New York and it’s a big city. Come clean, Sawyer. You put a transmitter on me or something?”
“Something.” For an instant I thought he meant to leave the explanation at that, but he continued. “The turquoise is more than just protection from a chindi, it’s a connection between us.”
I scowled. “I never realized you were a Peeping Tom.”
“There’s a lot about me you don’t realize,” he said, unfazed as always by my scorn. “We’ve been trying to help you, but we can’t get in. Several have died trying.”
“Don’t try anymore.”
“It’s pointless. You’ll have to do this on your own.”
“I’m used to it. So, tell me, why your dreams?”
“Dream walkers are drawn to the dreams of the one who knows the answer to their most desperate question. It’s the way this power works.”
“The only thing that would come in handy right now is how to kill a Strega, but you didn’t know—”
He moved forward, holding out his hands for mine. “Ever since you left, I’ve been searching for the answer.”
My heart jittered. “Did you find one?”
“Touch me and you’ll see.”
I didn’t hesitate, just slapped our palms together and braced for the ride.
The wind hit me like a tornado. I suddenly flew through dark, twisted corridors. Discarded toys, books, papers littered the floor. Doors whooshed by, some had locks, some stood half open, some were torn asunder as if by a huge, supernatural hand.
I came to a stop so fast I stumbled into the door in front of me. Ancient and cracked, the rusted hinges swung inward with an eerie creak.
I stepped inside. Sawyer’s voice whispered out of the shadows. “Only blood of his blood will doom a Strega.”
“Could you be a little more specific?”
I guess the answer was no since I was yanked backward out of the door and into the corridor, where my speed increased until my stomach lurched with a pain reminiscent of carsickness.
Heat brushed my face where before there’d been only a chill; I opened my eyes and together Sawyer and I swayed.
“I’ve never liked it when people walk in my head,” Sawyer muttered.
“Who would?”
“Exactly.” Sawyer withdrew his hands from mine and put them behind his back as if to keep me from holding them again. “Remember that,” he continued, “and use the power accordingly.”
“I didn’t mean to use it at all.”
“Though dangerous, dream-walking is a beneficial talent to have, especially for a seer, but you’ll have to learn to control it.”
“I’ll put that on my to-do list: don’t die, escape evil lair, save the world, learn how to control dream-walking.”
He didn’t react, which made sarcasm no fun at all.
“What did you learn?”
“Only blood of his blood will doom a Strega.”
“Sanducci,” Sawyer said. “He’s blood of the Strega’s blood, his son. He’s the only one who can do it.”
I made a choked sound—half laughter, half disbelief. “That’ll never happen.”
“You’re probably right.”
“A little encouragement would be nice. Maybe some hints.”
Sawyer closed his eyes, breathed in deeply, and when he breathed out, a scalding wind blew across the desert. “Remember all that you have become; take stock of everything available to you. Think of all you have learned, all you have heard.” His eyes snapped open, boring into mine, and the wind died. “Do it quickly. Our time is almost out.”
“Terrific.”
His voice lowered. “You nearly died tonight. Quit baiting Sanducci. If you, keep trying to make him remember the life he had that’s gone, he will kill you before you can kill him.”
He was right. I’d felt it in Jimmy tonight, the desire to both kiss and kill me. I wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to resist doing them both. Probably at the same time.
“Why would the Strega even have a kid if that’s the only way he can die?”
“He must have decided that the off chance Sanducci would find the stones to kill him was worth the risk of having his son inside the federation. Now that the Strega’s controlling him, there’s no risk at all.”
I bristled. “Jimmy’s not himself. He’d kill the Strega if he was.”
“And then all our problems would be over.” He took another deep breath, then let it out in a rush before murmuring, “Momentarily. But Sanducci isn’t himself. If you can manage to end the strega, make sure Sanducci is next. Killing him would be an act of mercy. He’d want you to.”
“You never liked him.”
“What’s to like? He’s an arrogant prick who takes whatever he wants and damn the consequences. He was like that even before he lost his soul.”
“Glass houses,” I murmured.
“I never pretended to have a soul, Phoenix. I never said that I loved someone, and then tore out their heart.”
Was he talking figuratively or literally? I put my palm against my chest. I kind of liked my heart right where it was.