I shut off the water, grabbed several towels, and backed up so Sawyer could leap out of the tub. Then I rubbed him down as quickly and efficiently as I could.
As I scrubbed the brilliant white cloth over his ebony fur, he hung his big head over my shoulder, and his face brushed mine. He smelled like wolf and man—like a desert breeze across the mountains, like the smoke of a fire in the night.
I pulled away. No matter what he'd done to help the federation, the fact remained that he was the son of the Naye'i, the woman he'd conjured from smoke, and we needed to have a chat.
"Go." I pointed to the bedroom.
He lifted his upper lip, but he went. I guess I couldn't blame him for being annoyed when I talked to him like a dog, but honestly, when the paws fit, what did he expect?
I shut the door, then locked it, though I have no idea why. Sawyer couldn't open it as a wolf, and he was stuck in that form as long as he was away from Navajo land.
However, I'd seen Sawyer do unexplainable things. Who knew, maybe he could walk through walls. I didn't want to find out while I was naked and vulnerable.
I dropped my clothes. The wound on my chest wasn't gaping, but it wasn't gone, either. An ugly red slash remained that still hurt if I moved too fast or too far. Since I'd never been killed before, I wasn't sure how long it would last or how well it would heal. As long as I was alive, I guess I didn't care.
Before I got into the shower, I removed my gun from my duffel and set it on the toilet tank. Most things that might come through that door wouldn't be bothered by a gun, but better safe than sorry.
A half hour later, I dried off, then, after wrapping myself in a towel, picked up the gun, the duffel, and went into the room.
Sawyer lay on the bed watching TV, the remote next to his paw. On the screen, a hunting show played; his gray eyes followed a huge deer as it gamboled back and forth across an autumn field. When a shot rang out, he started forward, ruff rising, a growl rumbling from his throat, eyes fixed avidly on the buck as it leaped, ran a few yards, then slowly crumpled to the ground.
I guess a wolf was a wolf, even when it wasn't.
I stepped in front of the television. Sawyer leaned to the side, trying to see around me. I dropped the towel. He slowly leaned back, his interest in the deer lost.
I guess a man was a man, even when it wasn't.
Quickly I laid the gun on the nightstand, removed the wolf robe from the duffel, swirled it around my shoulders and shifted.
It was always the same. That burst of light, the chill followed by the scalding heat. The fall from a great height as my bones crackled and changed, as I became something else.
My attention was immediately drawn to the flickering television screen. Another deer pranced across, and I found myself fascinated. When the shot rang out, my heart jolted; adrenaline flared. When it jumped, I wanted to chase it. I knew it would go down; it was vulnerable; it was mine.
The screen went black with a muted thunk.
Phoenix.
I swung toward the bed, where Sawyer stood with his paw on the control. I shook my head to clear it of the bestial hunger, that burning need to kill—it always freaked me out.
Your wound will fade more quickly in this form.
I lifted my neck, stretching the skin of my chest. He was right. Already, it didn't ache or pull quite as much.
What happened? I asked.
Isaw you fall, then she disappeared.
And then?
I kept fighting.
I should be glad that he'd stayed on task. There'd been nothing Sawyer could do to help me anyway.
Except I wasn't glad. I was just a tad pissed.
With me lying dead on the ground, you just kept fighting?
I knew you weren't dead.
Would have been nice if I'd known it, I muttered.
You need to wear the turquoise. Always.
He wouldn't get any argument from me.
Speaking of that, you never explained why the sight of it made her go poof.
The stone marks you as mine.
A low growl rumbled from my throat. I wasn't anyone's, especially Sawyer's.
His nostrils flared, no doubt from the scent of fiery fury that must be rolling off me like a flame. Relax, Phoenix, it was the only way to keep you alive.
Let me get this straight—if I wear the turquoise, she can't kill me?
Exactly.
So I'm invincible.
He tossed his head disdainfully. Just because she can't kill you doesn't mean the rest of them can't.
Damn. Invincible had sounded so good right now.
I returned to my original question. What happened in Lake Vista?
Sawyer lay down, rested his nose on his paws and sighed. What you might expect.
What good is knowing they're coming if we can't stop them?
We would have stopped them if not for her.
I stilled. She planned it?
Either she followed the luceres or she sent them.
Sent them?
Controlling Nephilim was a power of the leader of the darkness, and the woman of smoke couldn't be that unless she killed me. Which she hadn't done until after the luceres arrived. Even so—
The hair on the back of my neck lifted. She killed me. Does that make her the new leader of the darkness?
She didn't really kill you.