"Liz who?"

"From the cemetery." When he didn't say anything, I continued, "You meet a lot of women named Liz near cemeteries?"

"You never told me your last name."

I wasn't sharing the name Phoenix when Bram had dreamed of a great, multicolored bird. That would be a good way to gain a very lethal stalker. I had enough things trying to kill me already.

"Neither did you," I pointed out.

"You're right," he agreed, but he didn't tell me his name. "What can I do for you?"

"Know how to charm a dagger?"

"You've run into a sorcerer who needs killing."

He did know his Nephilim. "Can you help me?"

"What type of sorcerer?"

"Sosye."

"Haitian. Okay. Get a piece of paper. Draw a square. Within the square write what you want to happen. Then use the sharp instrument-"

"Any sharp instrument?" I asked. "Doesn't it have to be a dagger?"

"Anything sharp enough to kill should work. Use it to slice the paper into small pieces as you repeat, 'I want to be successful in all my undertakings.' "

"Then?"

"Kill the thing."

"That's it?"

"You think there should be goat's blood and moonlit holy water?"

Since there usually was . . .

"Seems too simple."

"Not if you don't know what to do, and most charmers won't tell you. Cuts down on their income."

"How did you find out?"

"The usual way."

My usual way would be to touch someone and pick his or her mind. If that didn't work, I'd beat it out of them. Which was probably Bram's MO, too.

"One more thing," Bram said. "Witches, sorcerers, wizards-anything magic-sometimes they don't die just right."

"What are you trying to tell me?"

"What if you stick the sosye and he doesn't die?"

"Yeah," I agreed, "what if?"

"It's a witch," Bram said. "Burn it."

I did what he'd said. Paper. Square. Mait dead written in the middle. I used my silver knife to slice it into teenie-tiny pieces as I said the words out loud: "I want to be successful in all my undertakings."

When I lifted the knife after the last slice, a rain-scented wind swirled in and scattered the pieces everywhere like confetti. For an instant the blade glowed red, but the flare died so fast I couldn't be sure it had actually happened.

Three AM. I needed to move. For all I knew, Mait might already be on his way to the cemetery.

I hid the charmed knife in my un-cool f.a.n.n.y pack. I should really replace that with . . . what? A Coach weapon carrier? A Louis Vuitton dagger sheath. Yeah, that would be so me.

I walked down Bourbon toward St. Louis Number One. If I was lucky I'd see Mait in one of the strip clubs; then I could follow him somewhere dark and isolated where I would do what needed to be done.

Of course that scenario was much, much too easy. So easy that I was only half searching for him as I strolled past each open doorway. When I actually saw him I'd taken several steps down the sidewalk before I realized it.

He was getting a lap dance, all right, and preoccupied enough not to notice me when I ducked in for a closer look then ducked quickly back out. I moved across the street, ordered a virgin margarita in a to-go cup, then pretended to peer in the shop windows while I waited. I'd only taken one sip when my phone rang.

I glanced at the caller ID. Luther. My heart did a tiny panic dance as I flipped it open. "Hey, kid-"

"Come quick, Liz." His voice was choked, either with tears or because someone was choking him. I didn't like either choice.

"What's wrong?"

"Faith," he began, then gasped, either with pain or a sob.

"Luther!" The fear his last word had brought nearly made it impossible for me to speak at all. "Is-is someone there with you?"

"Yes." My hand clenched on the phone, and the plastic crackled. I forced myself to loosen my hold. "Summer," he finished. "Summer's here."

"No one else? No one . . . bad?"

"Not anymore."

Oh, G.o.d. I didn't realize until someone cursed at me that I'd dropped the margarita all over the sidewalk.

"Where's Faith?" I shouted, ignoring the stares I got, even on Bourbon Street.

"They took her."

CHAPTER 33.

"Jimmy," I managed.

"He went after her."

Ah, h.e.l.l. The dream. I guess it had been a vision.

"Who was it?"

"I don't know. I didn't see-"

"Dammit!" I'd confined my demon beneath the moon, so Ruthie had come back to me, leaving Luther alone. It hadn't even occurred to me to let the kid know. I was as much to blame for this as anyone.

I inched into a small s.p.a.ce between the bar and a T-shirt shop where I could still watch the front door of the strip club, but I was out of the way. "What the h.e.l.l happened, Luther?"

The phone thumped and crackled. "Don't yell at him!"

Summer.

"I wasn't yelling." Although now that I had her on the line, I might. "What happened?" I repeated.

"Not a clue."

"You're a fairy!"

Now I did shout and earned a few nasty looks and one snarl from a pa.s.serby. That had sounded pretty bad.

"You live in an enchanted castle," I continued more quietly.

"Cottage," she corrected.

"What-f.u.c.king-ever. No one was supposed to be able to get in."

"Surprise," she said. "They did."

"I'm going to kill you."

"You know, the more you threaten that, the less it scares me?"

"Not a threat this time, Tinker Bell. A promise."

"Spare me your wannabe John Wayne dialogue. We need to find the baby and Jimmy."

"You think?"

"f.u.c.k you," she said, but there was no heat in her words. She was scared. I could smell it from here, and she hadn't even seen what I had.

"Tell me exactly what went on," I ordered. I figured she'd give me more 'tude, but she didn't. Which only proved just how scared she was.

"Jimmy got a call. He left. I went to check on Faith; she was gone."

"Jimmy could have taken her."

"And not told us? Why?"

Why did Sanducci do anything?

"No sign of a break-in?" I asked. "No hint of a spell?"

"Nothing," Summer answered.

"Strange."

"I expect a little more than 'strange' from the d.a.m.ned leader of the light."

"d.a.m.ned is right," I muttered, as an idea began to form.

"I'll do anything to get him-I mean them-back," Summer said.

Mait strolled out of the strip club toward St. Louis Number One. "So will I," I whispered, and followed.

Ruthie had said payment must be made, and I knew that was true. She'd also said that the dead couldn't be raised without consequences.

I didn't care. Two of the four people left on this earth whom I cared about were in trouble, and I could save them. All I had to do was embrace the darkness. Again.

I'd done it before, wound up a vampire. I wondered what doing it this time would make me.

Never sleep with a Nephilim.

"Shut up," I told Sawyer, though I knew he wasn't really there. The only way he'd ever be there was if I did whatever I had to do to get him back.

Summer had accused me of being unable to love enough. Would I choose a fate worse than death, the worst thing I could imagine, pledge eternity in the flames just to save someone I loved? I hadn't known the answer then, but now I did.

If I did this I could save them all. Theoretically.

I swallowed. I could do it. I'd just close my eyes and think of- "England," I whispered as Mait turned onto Toulouse Street.

I'd been willing to give Sawyer up, had believed I was doing the right thing. However, I wasn't willing to let his daughter go, or Jimmy, either. That was too much to ask. If I had to sacrifice my body, my mind, my life-so be it.

Having made the decision, I was suddenly calm. Which gave me a near hyper-focus. Everything around me receded-the music, the lights, the people-except for Mait, who seemed to be shrouded in a silvery gray sheen that set him apart from everyone else.

I needed to draw him away somewhere quiet and secluded where I could first seduce him, then kill him.

Yeah, I was one of the good guys.

After toying with several versions of what to do next-buy a disguise, accost him in a dark alley, lie-I realized the truth. All I had to do was let him catch me. He was a Nephilim. Nature would take its course.