"Xander? As in Alexander?"
Carta's forehead wrinkled. "I never considered that, but you are probably right. You kids are so clever with your nicknames these days."
Obviously Carla hadn't been watching Buffy reruns, unlike me. I doubted I'd be watching them again if I ever got near a television for more than a minute. They just wouldn't be fun anymore.
Since Carla now appeared about ten years younger than me, the term you kids nearly made me laugh. Would have if I didn't want to put my fist through her brand-new face.
"He is a professor at Brownport Bible College," she said. "In southern Indiana. He teaches a course on prophesy."
"Ours or theirs?" I muttered.
"Oh, ours, I'd say. The layman knows nothing about the Book of Samyaza."
"What do you know about it?" I asked.
"No more than you, I'm sure. I've never seen it or known anyone who did."
"No rumors of a location? No tingles about its truth or falsehood?"
"I'm sure it's true."
I shouldn't have bothered to ask. Carla was the one who'd told me about the whole balance-in-the-universe theory in the first place. Of course she'd believe in the validity of the Satanic verses.
"I've never heard a whisper about where the thing might be hidden," she continued.
She could be lying, but why? I put aside the issue of the Book of Samyaza for the moment. "Getting back to Xander Whitelaw," I said.
"He's written several books on Revelatory prophecy."
"Good for him. I know the prophecies." Kind of. "What I need is to discover how to kill an unkillable evil spirit."
"Xander did not begin as a prophecy professor. That came after his original interest in obscure supernatural legends gave rise to some interesting questions." \
My ears perked up. "He's one of us?"
Carla shook her head, and her long, gleaming, pure black hair swung. "He has no special powers—not a breed, not psychic, just curious."
"I'd think he would be helpful to have on board if he's been researching obscure supernatural legends."
"That is up to you," she said. "Ruthie had me keeping an eye on him, monitoring his research, his papers and his lectures."
"In case something interesting turned up."
Carla smiled. "If you think, after meeting him, that he should be told of the federation, asked to join us in our work, it is your choice. You are the boss now."
I didn't feel like the boss, probably because no one ever listened to my orders. Sure, Summer had gone after Jimmy. Then she'd nabbed him and disappeared, against my express orders. I should probably do something about that once I caught up to her, but how did one punish a fairy?
I glanced at Sawyer, who leaned against the wall near the front door, staring outside as if waiting for an attack. I doubted he'd ever taken orders from anyone, or ever would, especially not from me.
And since every other member of my elite team was hiding, missing, or dead, and I couldn't give them orders even if I had orders to give, my position as "the boss" wasn't as impressive as it should be.
I returned my attention to the benandanti. "You've been watching Professor Whitelaw," I began, then paused. "Exactly how have you been watching him when you were too decrepit to leave your house?"
Her eyes widened like bluebonnets beneath the sun. "Why would I need to leave the house to watch him?"
"Minions?" I asked.
"Magic."
Duh.
"He has information on the woman of smoke?"
"Not her in particular but the Naye'i in general. His doctoral thesis was on Navajo witchcraft."
Sawyer's head jerked up. I glanced that way, one hand on the hilt of my knife, the other reaching for the gun at the small of my back. Despite their uselessness with most things I'd met, I still liked having them nearby whenever possible.
However, Sawyer wasn't looking out the door; he was looking at Carla.
"No one talks about witchcraft," he murmured. "No one."
"How'd you manage that?" I asked.
His lips tightened and he didn't answer. "
The Navajo believe that anyone who discusses witchcraft knows too much and might therefore be a witch," Carla explained. "They also believe that if a person discusses it, the witch might come after them."
"Would you?" I asked Sawyer.
He stared at me stoically. We both knew that he would.
Which probably accounted for the many attempts his people had made on his life. They wanted to get him before he got them. Always a good plan when dealing with supernatural creatures.
"Dr. Whitelaw recently began to write an article on the Naye'i" Carla continued. "Because it's taboo for the Navajo to speak of such things, legends are rarely shared. However, Dr. Whitelaw managed to piece together a good bit of information from several different sources. If there's a way to kill a Naye'i, Whitelaw knows it."
"Then why don't you?" I asked. "
He's just begun to piece together his research."
"I'm going to have to go to him," I said. "Pick his brain."
"Yes."