“That’s almost as good a question as Who’s her mom?”
“You don’t know?”
“Why would I?”
“You didn’t ask?”
“A kitten?”
Jimmy made a sound of annoyance. “Sawyer.”
“Dead, remember?”
“You said he was in your dreams.”
“He is, but it’s strange. You know how dreamwalking feels?” Jimmy nodded. “It’s not like that.”
“Because the dead don’t dream.”
“Is that on a T-shirt or something?” I snapped.
Jimmy just lifted a brow and waited for me to go on.
“I can’t control the dream. I can’t get Sawyer to answer questions. He tells me things, but not everything. And I don’t know if it’s really him in there”—I rapped my knuckles lightly against my temple—“or if it’s just me wishing he were.”
“What about Ruthie? Doesn’t she have any info about the kid?”
“She was as surprised to see Faith as I was. Claims she knows nothing about her.”
“You believe that?”
I sighed. “I’m not sure.”
Ruthie had lied to us both when it suited her—always for the good of the world. That didn’t make her lies any easier to stomach, and it didn’t make her any easier to trust now that we knew about them. But it was also difficult not to trust her since we had for most of our lives, and in the end we all wanted the same thing.
To save the world.
“I guess you have more than a few questions for Sawyer.”
“More than a few,” I agreed.
“Why drag the kid all the way here?” Jimmy asked.
“Ruthie—”
“Said,” Jimmy finished. “But why? What’s wrong with Luther?”
I glanced over my shoulder. Luther and Summer were playing with Faith. They’d each grabbed a * willow, and the kitten was trying to catch one, but she couldn’t decide which one to grab. She glanced back and forth, back and forth. Then she’d snatch at a fuzzy toy, only to have it rise higher than she could jump. So she’d lose interest and focus on the other one, only to repeat the same process. The scene could make Norman Rockwell sit up in his grave just to paint it.
“What happened?” Jimmy asked. He always knew when something had.
Quickly I told him about the men in the motel room—what they’d known, what they hadn’t, and what Sawyer—be he dream or vision—had said.
“They’re after her because of who she will become,” Jimmy repeated.
I spread my hands. “I promised to protect her.”
“Then do it.”
“I am!”
Summer, Luther, and Faith turned their heads toward us as my voice carried. Summer frowned and began to get up. Luther murmured something and pulled her back down. That she let him was quite a surprise. I wasn’t sure what there was between the boy and the fairy, but they had connected the first time they’d met. Kind of like the baby and the fairy. I wondered if Summer was using magic.
I lowered my voice. “I have to find that skinwalker, Jimmy. Ruthie said Faith would be safe with you. You think I’d ask this of you if I had any other choice?”
His dark eyes stared into mine. He was so damn beautiful. My gaze lowered to his mouth. He could do amazing things with that mouth. Once Sanducci and I had spent hours just kissing. I missed that.
Our breath became shallow. His gaze lowered as well. He took a step forward, and I stopped breathing altogether.
But he caught himself before we could touch, backed up, and lifted his face to the sun. “I wish things could be the way they were,” he murmured. “I want to forget, Lizzy, but I can’t. Every time I look at you I see what hides beneath that collar.”
My demon. He hated it. And since that demon resided in me . . . well, you do the math.
“I don’t know what you want from me, Sanducci. You’re pissed because I love Sawyer, but you don’t want me to love you, either.”
“I didn’t say that.” His lips twisted. “I want you to love me; I just don’t know if I can love you back.”
“Bite me,” I muttered.
He turned away, but not before I saw the haunted expression on his face. “Already did.”
There wasn’t much I could say to that. He’d bitten me; I’d bitten him. We’d both become vampires, and there was no going back.
“Hold on.” I reached out and grabbed his arm, got a jolt as soon as I did.
Images washed over me—of us as kids, teens, young adults, in bed, out of bed, under the bed. I caught a hint of our dreams—the home, the family—those things we’d never had and now, never would.
Those thoughts were replaced by the memory of me as a vampire—lying to Jimmy, seducing him, and worse. I yanked my hand free and rubbed it on my jeans.
He was right. I didn’t know if we could ever get past that. Our love was all tangled up with the guilt, the lust with the blood, the hope with the hatred, the dreams with the fear.
I stuck my hands in my pockets so I wouldn’t be tempted to touch him again. “Will you keep Faith safe?”
“Sounds like the title of a Sunday sermon.”
“Jimmy.” He was avoiding an answer as well as my gaze.