Kayani’s eyes flicker. “How do you know about Sani? The shaman’s identity is a wel — kept secret among the Dine’é.”
“I respect that. That he was here and what he can do was passed on to me by someone else. I don’t know how this person came to know of him.”
He isn’t pleased with the answer. A scowl darkens his face. “Who else knew that you were looking for Sani?”
“George, no one else.” Chael, too, but I can’t open that can of worms until I’m ready to admit what I am.
“And he didn’t try to talk Sarah out of making the request
?”
Knowing how George feels about me, I can imagine he probably did. But since I don’t know for sure, I shake my head. “I’m not sure. We didn’t discuss it.”
“Why would you seek Sani?”
The question I’ve been dreading. I stal a moment by drawing in a breath and letting it out slowly. The act does nothing to make framing a response easier. “I have a personal reason to seek his council.” Ambiguous.
Unsuccessful.
Kayani shifts irritably. “Did you lose someone close to you?”
I should have known he would not accept such a vague response. I know I sure as hel wouldn’t. But before I can reply, Kayani adds, “Because if that’s the reason you came, you could have saved yourself a trip. Sani does not use his magic to reverse death on a whim. If he did—”
He lets his voice drop and for the first time, a spark of emotion flares through. It’s easy to finish his sentence. If Sani reversed death just because he was asked to, Kayani would have already petitioned for Sarah’s life to be restored.
Wanting something, no matter how badly, is not enough.
It strikes me that Kayani real y has no idea that I’m vampire. He’s never touched me, even to shake hands, so he’s not experienced the marble coldness of my skin.
Outwardly, unless I show my vampire face, I look human. A little thin, perhaps, with an unlined face that may make me look younger than my thirty years, but human.
“Have you spoken to George at al?”
Kayani draws himself up, his stoic mask back in place.
“No. I expect I’l talk to him later today.”
Now I have to decide. I have no doubt George wil tel Kayani about me. Would it be better to do it myself now and take my chances?
Kayani drains his cup. “I have to go.”
“You can’t stay a little longer? I have something to l with you about.”
“No.” He rises and crushes the cup in his hand. “I need to prepare. We are burying Sarah this afternoon.”
“This afternoon? I thought burial was to be in four days.”
“Sarah’s parents fear there is black magic at work. They want to bury their daughters today before a curse can be laid.” He frowns down at me. “I thought that’s why you were here. Frey sent you away until it was over.”
Kayani’s words stab at me. The man I passed on the way here. Sarah’s father come to tel Frey of their plans.
I rise, too, trying to control the uneasiness overwhelming me. If Kayani is right in his assumption, I have to get back to Frey. Because in my gut I know. I remember the expression on the old man’s face as he passed me.
Frey is facing Sarah’s hostile parent. Alone.
What did Frey say? In their eyes, he deserted Sarah and her son. He’l need support. I should be there.
Kayani and I walk out together, though I’m barely able to restrain the instinct to break and run to the Jeep. I manage to keep the alarm out of my voice long enough to ask, “Wil John-John take part in his mother’s burial?”
He shakes his head. “No. He wil stay with George at the house. It wil be a traditional burial. Only Frey, Sarah’s parents and I wil tend to Sarah and her sister. After, we wil come back to the house.”
Kayani is parked in a space marked “Police Use.” He’s stil driving the SUV I saw this morning. Rain is coming down harder now. It soaks our clothes and beads in our hair. He glances toward the sky. “Would you like a ride to your vehicle?”
“No. Thank you. I’m not far.”
His eyes are stil on the sky. “It is a sad day. Even the heavens weep.”
CHAPTER 28
I AM STARTLED BY THE SORROW IN HIS EYES. THAT HE loved Sarah is no longer conjecture. I don’t know how long they had been seeing each other, but I hope she returned his feelings. Maybe it wil offer some consolation in the dark days ahead.
He pul s out of the lot and I sprint to the Jeep, reverse the course on the GPS and start back.
Why didn’t Frey cal me when Sarah’s parents showed up to tel me about the burial?
And why did Kayani said he figured Frey sent me away?
I don’t like the idea of George being alone with John-John.
It took me about thirty minutes to make it to the lodge from the house. The only consolation I have is that if Kayani is just now on his way, too, we should arrive together. I should make it in time to accompany Frey.
I catch up to Kayani quickly. I can see him checking out the Jeep in his rearview mirror and when he recognizes me, he signals and pul s over. I do, too.
He strides back to the Jeep. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going back to the house. I want to go with Frey to Sarah’s funeral.”
He scowls down at me. “It’s not a funeral. You are an outsider. Why do you think Frey sent you away?”
I bristle at his tone. “He didn’t send me away. I came to the lodge on my. I wanted to give him time alone with John-John.”
“Wel, you need to give us al time. You cannot be a part of what is to take place. You could cause irreparable harm. To Frey. To Sarah’s parents.”
“I respect the idea that the Navajo have customs to honor their dead. I can’t see how my observing those customs can lead to harm.”
Kayani places both hands on the door of the Jeep and leans toward me. “Listen, Ms. Strong. Sarah’s parents are very traditional. They wil not have mentioned either of their daughter’s names since the accident. Do you want to know why? Because they believe after death, the good part of a person goes on while the bad part stays here as a ghost.
Mentioning the name of a dead person cal s the ghost. Such a simple thing. But were you to offer condolences, for instance, and in doing so, mention the girls’ names, you wil have violated a taboo. Do you want that on your conscience?”
He is so serious, so vehement in his argument that I back down. He is right. I have no idea of the intricacies of such long-held beliefs. I would only be a burden on Frey and if I did something wrong, cast a bad reflection on him in a delicate time.
“Al right. I’l go back to the lodge. But you have to keep an eye on Frey for me. Make sure no harm comes to him.”
Kayani’s brow furrows at the request. “What harm could come to him? He has studied the Navajo way.”
“Just tel me you wil. And on George, too.”
His puzzled frown deepens. “I don’t understand.”
“And if you have time for an explanation, I’l give it to you. If not, please honor my request.”
He straightens and backs away from the Jeep. “I wil.” His tone is clipped, formal. “But later, when this day is over, I wil come to you for answers.”
He waits for my nod of acceptance and leaves me. If George tel s him that I’m vampire, he’l no doubt come back armed with Sarah’s crossbow and a wooden arrow. A chance I’l have to take.
I watch until the SUV disappears around a bluff, leaving a trail in the muddy red earth. I have two choices.
Forget al I told Kayani and go to the house anyway.
Head back for the lodge and try to locate Chael.
I look around as if divine inspiration might spring from the mighty rain-streaked formations and soaked earth surrounding me. It’s Kayani, however, his face, his tone, his wil ingness to al ow parents a chance to grieve in their own way that influences the decision. Another might find such customs archaic. Kayani is a modern cop in an ancient land but he accepts and honors both worlds.