A little of the edge has left his voice. I take that as a good sign and ask, “Do you think he exists?”
“I know he exists.”
“You’ve heard of him?”
“Not before yesterday. But I did some research last night.”
Excitement bubbles up. “What did you learn?”
He holds up a hand. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. It wasn’t much. Just that he is rumored to have the ability to bring the dead back to life. For obvious reasons, his existence is protected by the Navajo. It wil be up to the tribal council to determine if you wil be al owed to meet with him. This may be tricky, Anna. You may not get permission. And if you do, he may not be wil ing to speak with a vampire. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
I twirl the straw in my Coke. I wish I’d known this before we started out. I’m sure Chael knew. But he wouldn’t send me out here unless he thought there was a chance. Or is this another trick?
On the other hand, what’s the worst that can happen? I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be.
Frey’s sarcastic laugh pul s me back. “You should see your face. The expression tel s me your thoughts are spinning like the hard drive on a computer. Sorting information. Weighing consequences. Wondering how far you’d have to go if you’re turned down.”
I squint up at him. “You think I’d resort to violence?”
“Did I say violence? I know how you operate. If you want something, you get it. What I don’t know is what you want.
You haven’t talked about it.”
I slurp up the rest of my Coke, stal ing.
“You haven’t made a decision yet, have you?” He pauses a heartbeat, frowning. “Whatever you decide, remember.
Using magic exacts a price. And a thing like this takes magic — powerful magic. The bigger the magic, the bigger the price.”
He says it as though I’m not aware that there’s danger in chal enging the natural way. I know it only too wel. I stil carry the mental image of Frey broken and near death, fighting to save Culebra from a witch’s spel.
And yet, how natural was it that I became a vampire? How natural that I had to send my family off to protect them? That I have to distance myself from my friends?
No, the only natural thing is that I’d want to erase the last year of my life. I owe it to myself to find out if such a thing is possible.
CHAPTER 15
WE’RE BACK ON THE ROAD, BOTH OF US, I THINK, happy not to talk. I don’t know what Frey is thinking, but the things he said at the restaurant linger in my mind. He’s right.
Since the ceremony acknowledging my position as the Chosen, I haven’t talked to him except to let him know that I survived.
Why was that? Certainly not because I was ungrateful for his help. I remember how close we came to making love that weekend. I exercised restraint because of Layla. Because I didn’t want him regretting the time he spent with me or becoming resentful if it interfered with their relationship.
That’s rich. They broke up anyway.
Something I’d have known if I’d bothered to cal him.
Lifting a hand, I shield my eyes against the glare of the midday sun, enjoying the warmth that penetrates my skin, remembering the warmth that mortals feel from the inside out.
If I find a way to make things right for Frey, I wil.
But first. Frey was right about something else, too. I don’t know what I want from this shaman. If he’s powerful enough to solve the riddle of life and death, maybe he can solve my riddle, too. How I was chosen and why. What it would mean if I relinquished the title.
How I can get Chael out of the picture.
Because before I could make any decision, I’d have to know the mortal world would be safe. No matter how much I want to become human again, I wouldn’t put my desire ahead of the wel — being of bil ions.
Another hour of desert boredom and we cross the Arizona border at Yuma. Right outside Casa Grande we leave Highway 8 and pick up I-17. Then it’s on to and past Phoenix and final y, the monotonous scenery becomes interesting again. We’re headed north, approaching the Verde Val ey area, and for the first time, we’re seeing more than brown dirt and scrub. Red rocks light a fiery landscape punctuated with the green of real trees. Alder, ash, cypress and a half dozen others I don’t recognize. Bushes in hues that range from the lightest feathery green to bril iant emerald to cloud gray.
Ocotil o and yucca raise thorny fingers to the sky. I’m mesmerized by the wonder of it al, my absorption broken only when a movement catches the corner of my eye.
Frey looks at his watch. “We’re not going to make it before dark. Do you want to stop for the night in Flagstaff?”
I hadn’t noticed how much time had passed. The sun is low on the horizon. The dark doesn’t bother me so I volunteer to take over behind the wheel.
Frey looks at me as if I’d just suggested he become a vegetarian. “Do you know how to drive a stick?”
“How hard can it be? I’ve been watching you.”
I can see by his horrified expression he’s imagining scenarios where I strip his new baby’s gears.
“I’m kidding. Of course I can drive a stick.”
He isn’t convinced so I add, “Look. I drive a ninety-thousand-dol ar car. What’d you pay for this?”
Stil no relaxing of the worry lines around his mouth. “How long until we reach the reservation?”
“Four hours.”
“So let me take over for a while. You take a nap.”
Frey pul s off the road so I think I’ve convinced him.
Instead, he adjusts his seat back and stretches his legs. “We should both take a nap,” he says. “Thirty minutes or so and we’l hit the road again.”
I give hime evil eye. Jesus. What a baby. I adjust my seat, too, and stare into a cloudless, cerulean sky. Then it hits me,
“Frey, are you stal ing?”
His eyes are closed. He huffs out a breath. “That’s a ridiculous assumption.”
“Is it? You sounded like your ex wil not be happy to see you. Could it be that you’re a little skittish about seeing her, too?”
I’m teasing, but there’s nothing amusing in the way he snaps back at me. “The roads we’re going to travel once we get to the val ey are not wel marked or lit. And there’s no moon tonight. It won’t be easy navigating in the dark.”
“You’re joking, right? You have the vision of a cat. And I’m a vampire. My eyes are better than night-vision goggles.”
He turns at that. “Jesus, Anna. Do you always have to argue? Thirty minutes. Is that too much to ask? Just close your eyes and shut up, wil you?”
Wow. He
He doesn’t answer. He’s already asleep.
I humph an irritated breath. Stare around. Close my eyes.
Just for a minute.
