“I didn’t say that.” Jimmy sighed, sounding tired and old. This job, this world, could wear anyone down. “I said I think you’re gonna have to.”
I thought I was going to have to, too.
“Lizzy,” he began, and paused, interrupted by the distinct click of a door being opened.
A stir in the air, something moved, but no footsteps. How strange.
“What the hell do you want?”
I tilted my head, strained to hear, but got nothing beyond the slight buzz that signaled supernatural energy. No big shock there.
“Hey!” Jimmy said. “Don’t.”
What followed was sounds of a struggle, one dull thud and then silence.
“Jimmy?” I called.
The only answer was the closing of a door.
I tugged on my bonds, fat lot of good that it did me. I only managed to make my skin burn so badly a cloud of smoke encircled my head, the scent of scalding flesh causing me to choke. I lifted my legs, tried to kick a bigger hole in the wall; I’m not sure why. I wasn’t really thinking beyond getting to Jimmy and making sure he was okay.
Then the latch on my door clicked, and I let my legs tumble to the bed, where they bounced once from the force of the fall and lay still.
The hallway was dark; so was the room, no prayer of a silhouette to hint who it was. The air stirred again; something drifted close, no footsteps, just that maddening buzz that said monster.
“What did you do to him?” I demanded.
“Nothing that hasn’t been done before,” Sawyer answered.
CHAPTER 27
“What,” I repeated through clenched teeth, “did you do?”
“Nothing, Phoen . . .” Sawyer paused. I could hear his teeth grinding together. Neither one of us was going to have much left but stubs soon. “Elizabeth,” he corrected.
“He’d better not be dead.”
“Or what?” Sawyer’s voice held the smile so rarely found on his face.
“I’ll kill you.”
“The threat is getting old. Especially since you have no way to back it up.”
“You think I can’t do it?”
“I know you can’t. You have no idea how to kill a skinwalker.”
There was that. No one in the world—except for him—appeared to know how, or if they did, they weren’t sharing. Considering Sawyer, his power, his reputation, I didn’t blame them.
“Did you come here to show me how?” I asked.
A slight pause reflected his surprise. “You think I came to kill you?”
“Did you kill Jimmy?”
He sighed. “It would be better for you both if I did.”
“Mercy killing. That is so . . . not you.”
I lost my shoes, then flung out my leg in the direction of the voice, not to kick him—although that would have been an acceptable bonus—but to try to touch him and maybe “see” some of his secrets.
But my foot met air. I’d kicked so hard I nearly shot myself off the bed. Considering I was still chained to it by my arms . . . ouch!
“Relax.” His voice now came from the other side, nearer my face. I considered lifting my feet and smashing him the way I’d smashed the wall, but I figured he’d see that coming, if not literally then with whatever tenth sense he’d always had that had kept him alive for so long.
“I don’t want to relax.”
“You never do,” he murmured.
I strained my eyes. He was close enough that I could feel the incredible heat that always rolled off of him in waves, close enough that the breeze through the slightly cracked window no longer overpowered his scent, which was the same as always—the mountains beneath the sun, newborn leaves, a tinge of fire and just a hint of smoke.
However, I still couldn’t see him, and I started to wonder if he was really here at all. There were so many things that Sawyer could do that he’d never told me, that I might never know unless he did.
“Touch me,” I murmured.
Silence followed my demand. I felt his surprise flare so brightly I almost saw it—fireflies flickering in the depths of the night.
“Touch me,” I repeated, lowering my voice to what I hoped was a sexy murmur. I had no idea if it was; I’d never sexy murmured before. “You know that you want to.”
“I—uh. What?”
My lips curved. I discovered that I wasn’t afraid. If it was my time to die, if Sawyer had been sent to kill me, so be it. One thing I’d learned long ago: When it was your time, it was your time. There was no damn way to stop it.
“Touch me,” I repeated. “Now.”
“That’s not a good idea. I wanted—”
I tried to brush him with my elbow, but the chains rattled and gave me away. Maybe. Since this was Sawyer, he’d have no problem scooting back faster than any movement I made. If he were even in the room in the first place.
“Why are you here?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You want me to forgive you for changing sides? For fucking my mother? For—” Fury bubbled in my chest, so hot I was half-afraid my skin might start to glow as hers had. “Whatever the hell else you’ve done?”