AS DIFFICULT AS IT IS TO GET SANI'S WORDS OUT of my head, his face out of my mind, I focus on Frey as I near the house. I park a quarter of a mile away, beside scrub brush that hides the Jeep from prying eyes. Then I jog closer.
No cars. Not the one I passed with the elderly couple, not Kayani's police SUV. I don't see the van George was driving yesterday, either, so it looks everyone has gone.
Still, I approach cautiously, intending to peek into the window just to be sure the coast is clear.
"I wondered when you'd come back."
Frey's voice from the corner of the porch. In the dusk, I didn't see him shrouded in shadow sitting on the chair Mary occupied when we had our talk. Seems a long time ago now.
I take a seat beside him. His face is drawn, eyes downcast. I detect a whiff of sage and smoke emanating from his clothes. There's a smudge of something dark-ashes maybe-on his right cheek.
For a few moments neither of us speaks. The grief is his and I won't intrude. Nothing I have to say will do anything more than add to the ache he must be feeling.
When at last he breaks the silence, his voice is thick, as if sadness has swelled his throat making speech difficult.
"Kayani said he saw you at the lodge."
I nod.
"He left to find you after-it was over. He called a while ago to say you were gone."
Should I tell him of meeting Sani? No. It is Frey's time to talk. I smother the spark of anxiety that flares when I think of what Kayani wished to speak-or confront-me about. Letting only curiosity come through, I ask, "Did he say what he wanted?"
Frey's eyes flash, anger surfacing, the cat close. "Why would you tell him to watch me? To watch George? Why did you go to the lodge in the first place? Who were you looking for?"
I close my eyes, breathe in, search for the strength to tell Frey what I suspect.
When I start to speak, I feel Frey go still and quiet. His eyes bore into me, the concentration of a feline deciding whether the creature he's studying is predator or prey.
It makes the vampire, too, spring to alert. Still, I manage to keep my voice steady, human, and I tell him all. Who I suspect is responsible for the deaths of the sisters, why I believe it, that Chael is here in Monument Valley.
I finish with my suspicions about George, the things he said to me this morning, his anger because I caused Sarah's death. "He thinks she died because of what happened at the council. He wants you to put an end to me. His words. I believe he's the one who shot me. He thinks I stand between you and staying here with John-John on the reservation."
Frey stands, moves abruptly to the porch railing; his hands grip the banister. "You told Kayani all this?"
"Of course not. Seeing how Sarah and George reacted to my being vampire, do you think I'd risk it? If he and George talked, though, George may have."
Frey shakes his head. "I don't think they were alone together." He turns to face me, crosses his arms across his chest. "Chael is here? You're sure of it?"
"Yes. Though no longer at the lodge. My mistake." I fill in the details. "I underestimated him. Stupid. I thought maybe you'd know where they might go. Another hotel or lodge in the vicinity?"
"There are a couple of possibilities. I'll check them out tomorrow."
"You'll check them out? You don't even know what he looks like."
"But I do know what Judith Williams looks like."
"No, Frey." I jump to his side. "She might recognize you. It's too dangerous."
The pulse in Frey's neck throbs as he clenches his jaw. "No. She won't see me. I'll make sure of that."
"At least let me go with you."
"No. You have to stay with John-John. He likes you. He needs to have a woman near him. It's what he's used to."
That's not the reason he wants me to stay. At least not all of it. "I know what you're thinking but you can't take him on by yourself. He's too old and too powerful. And with Judith on his side, it's two to one. John-John can't lose a father, too."
Frey's anger explodes with a sound half animal, half human. A primal snarl from the panther. "He is responsible for Sarah's death."
I grit my teeth, match his anger with my own. "I'm responsible for Sarah's death." The words linger on the quiet night air, a release of guilt and acknowledgment that's been building inside since we first heard of the accident . "Me. I brought this nightmare to you. I won't let you risk your life. I'll stop you. You know I can."
Frey's eyes-the panther's eyes-glow yellow in the dark. "You could try. But I have more to lose than you do. Protecting one's young is a powerful motivator. It makes one stronger, more determined, than simple anger. Or guilt."
He's captured me by the fierceness of his gaze, holds me in a grip of determination and will. He's done this before, when I was newly turned. I thought it was a mind trick. But we have no psychic connection now and I feel as powerless as I did then.
Until I marshal my own strength and fling it back at him.
"Stop it, Frey. Please."
His eyes lose their intenseness, his hold wavers, falls away. He looks ashamed, embarrassed.
I touch his cheek. "I know what you are feeling. But you must let me help."
He shakes his head. "You are my friend, Anna. I respect you more than anyone I've ever known. But you are stubborn. You see your way as the only way. It's your turn to trust me. If you value our friendship at all, you have to trust I know what I'm doing."
"You don't know Chael." I whisper the words.
He passes a hand over his face. When he looks up at me, his eyes are human, full of acceptance and sadness. "Then you will prepare me-tell me all you know about him."
My heart is heavy. I sink back into the chair, collect my thoughts. I remember what happened the first time I met Chael. It was at the gathering that proclaimed me the Chosen One. Frey remains standing at the rail, calm, patient. Waiting for me to begin.
I look into his eyes. "He is a coward," I begin. "And that makes him very dangerous. He will not fight you. Not at first. It's why he has Judith Williams with him. She is a rogue and foolhardy. You must kill her the moment you see her. It's the only way. There may be others, too. If you give me time, I might-"
An abrupt brush of the hand sweeps aside that notion. "Go on."
I don't know what else to tell him. "He is old. He is powerful. He is arrogant. You must catch him unaware. Do not try to extract a confession or engage in a debate. He will choose a vulnerable moment and attack. And he will kill you."
A thought surfaces, an echo of something that came to mind this morning. "Do you know how to use a bow and arrow?"
I do not have to explain; awareness blooms in Frey's eyes. "Yes. Sarah has a crossbow."
"Then use it. Watch for Chael and shoot him the moment you see him. Do it from a safe distance. Aim carefully."
Frey straightens from his slouched position against the porch railing. "Thank you," he says. "Now I think we should we get some sleep. John-John will be up early. I've taken Sarah's room. I moved your things into Mary's."
He doesn't wait for acknowledgment but heads into the house, leaving me staring into the darkness.
Did I tell him enough? Did I tell him too much?
How do you prepare a friend to battle a monster?