Stranger and stranger. We were deep in Navajo country and as I’d said, it was late.
“Evening.” The nearest one to me pushed back the brim of his hat. He was about thirty. Nothing special, unless you counted his total forgettableness. He was dark; the other was blond and just as forgettable.
The blond looked between me and Summer then settled on me. “You Liz Phoenix?”
“Who wants to know?”
“We’re just delivery boys.”
“It takes two?”
“We heard you might be . . .” The blond’s voice trailed off.
“Unhappy,” the dark man finished.
I liked this less and less by the minute.
“Who sent you?”
“Don’t know. Instructions and package came US mail.”
“And you just do what you’re told?”
The blond appeared confused. “That’s what we do.”
I found no point in continuing this. They’d said they were delivery boys. Add to that the lack of a demon “buzz” on both mine and Luther’s part, as well as Ruthie’s dearth of info, and I found myself believing them.
“Better hand it over,” I said.
The blond came forward with a brown-paper-wrapped box. When he reached the bottom of the steps, Luther moved in front of me. The guy took one glance at the kid’s face and tossed it the rest of the way. I hoped whatever rested inside wasn’t breakable.
By the time I bent and retrieved the package, the two men had climbed back in the truck.
“They were human.” Luther watched them leave. “One hundred percent.”
“That way we don’t feel them coming.”
“But they were only delivering”—he waved his hand in my direction—“whatever that is.”
“If they’d been Nephilim, we’d have killed them.” Luther nodded. “You think—” His gaze turned to the taillights of the pickup. “You think they sent people after Faith this time, too?”
“Maybe,” I said.
Probably, I thought. The Nephilim were getting wise. They knew we’d have a hard time killing people in cold blood. Unlike them.
The three of us trailed into the living room, and I set the box on the coffee table. I didn’t want to open it. At least the container was too small for a head, unless it was a very small head.
A strange noise escaped me—half sob, half battle cry—and I yanked off the top. Faith’s binkie lay inside.
I snatched it up, pressing the pink flannel to my face—baby powder, baby sweat, baby tears, and— “Faith,” I whispered.
“There’s a note.” Luther’s voice sounded the same as mine—choked with both fury and fear.
Summer picked up the paper, glanced at it, then handed the page to me.
“You for her,” I read.
Exactly like my dream, except for one thing.
“Bring Daddy along, too.”
EPILOGUE
Let’s recap . . .
Faith’s been kidnapped.
Jimmy’s missing.
I’ve got another demon inside me.
Luther’s Ruthie. Again.
Summer still owes the devil her soul.
And I need Sawyer to save Faith, but he appears to have embraced his own darkness.
Does that about cover it?
Chaos anyone?
At least I know what I have to do. Same thing I always do. Whatever it takes.
I’m getting Faith back, Jimmy too, and while I’m at it I’ll deal with Sawyer.
I made a bad choice, a stupid decision based on love and a dream. I’m not the first woman to do that, and I definitely won’t be the last. In my case, there’s one important difference.
When I get where I’m going, there’ll be demons at the gates.