“No,” Sawyer murmured. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
He went silent, and I wanted to shriek in frustration. He was always so calm. I guess living forever, or close enough, could do that. But if there was ever a time to get excited, now was that time.
“What do we do?” I managed to keep from shouting, but barely.
“We find the Key of Solomon,” he continued in the same calm voice. “Read the instructions for dealing with the Grigori; then we deal with them. Preferably before they repopulate the world with that army and deal with us first.”
“Works for me,” I said. “But how are we going to search for the key and keep the steadily multiplying demon horde from overrunning the earth.”
I remembered the varcolacs—how they’d kept coming and coming, how much harder they’d seemed to kill than the average Nephilim and how I’d had to release my beast to do it. The Boudas hadn’t been any easier. Without Luther, Sawyer and I might not be having this conversation.
“The Nephilim I’ve faced lately seem more confident,” I said slowly, “if possible, even more vicious.”
“Imminent victory will give anyone confidence,” Sawyer said.
“They aren’t going to win.”
He lifted a brow and then a bare, laconic shoulder. “If you say so.”
“I do. And so does the Bible.”
His lips curved. “But there’s the Book of Samyaza, which tells another story.”
“I choose not to believe in fairy tales.”
“Why not? You believe in fairies.”
Why did I even try to reason with the man? There was no reason in him.
“Children, children,” Ruthie-Luther admonished; the words when formed by that childish mouth almost made me laugh. “Eventually we’ll need to find the Book of Samyaza and destroy it. Without the thing, they have no instructions for winning and no talisman that guarantees invincibility.”
“Just because the book guarantees invincibility doesn’t make it true.”
“What is there about ‘guarantee’ that you don’t understand?” Ruthie asked.
“So it is true?” I asked. “Possess the Book of Samyaza and win?”
“We won’t know until—”
“They win,” Sawyer finished.
“If the book is so damn important, then why are they after the Key of Solomon?”
“Could be they don’t want us to have it, just like we don’t want them to have the book.”
I remembered what the varcolac had said. “Or one of the little people wants to command the demons.”
Ruthie-Luther’s dark gaze sharpened. “Whoever commands them becomes the Prince.”
“Of Darkness?” I asked.
“Pretty much.”
“I’m confused. When the Grigori flew free, whoever released them should have been possessed by Satan.”
“Theoretically,” Sawyer murmured.
“Explain.”
“My . . .” He paused, unable to utter the word “mother.” “The woman of smoke, if she actually released the Grigori, is dead. So—” He spread his nimble hands.
I blinked, trying to connect the dots. “So he’s floating around looking for a host?”
Sawyer shrugged. Ruthie did too.
“Fan-damn-tastic,” I muttered.
We remained silent for a moment.
“I thought if I killed the leader of the darkness, we’d get a replay.” Or at least that had been the rumor.
“Even if that was true,” Ruthie said, “and we don’t know for sure, the Grigori were released before you killed her.”
“Great. I became a vampire for no reason at all.”
“If you hadn’t killed the woman of smoke when you did, they’d be one step closer to victory. The Naye’i would be the Prince, and I think we’d all be dead.”
Ruthie was right. At least I’d managed to end that bitch before she became the most powerful evil on earth. Point for me.
“How did she release the Grigori?” I asked.
“No idea,” Ruthie said. “Though there might be a clue in the key.”
“If she’d had the Key of Solomon, the Nephilim wouldn’t be searching for it now.”
“Regardless of how she released them,” Ruthie said, “she released them. We need to—”
“Find the key, find the book,” I interrupted. “Unfortunately, the guy I put on that task wound up a little dead.”
Ruthie-Luther frowned. “Xander Whitelaw is dead?”
“How can you not know this?” I asked. “I thought you had a hotline to heaven.” On the heels of those thoughts came another, better one. “He’s on the other side. You can ask him what he found out.”
My heart rate sped up. Maybe we weren’t doomed after all. Maybe we could find the key tonight, perform the spell and rid the earth of demons by morning.
“He’s not in heaven,” Ruthie murmured.
My heart stuttered. “He went to hell?” Hadn’t seen that coming. Not that Xander had been a goody-goody. I hadn’t known him well enough to know what he’d been. But he hadn’t felt evil.
“No,” Ruthie-Luther said slowly. “Not hell.”
“You aren’t making any sense. There’s heaven and hell and here.”
“And then there’s where I am.”
“You said you were in heaven.”