Page 59 of Bird on a Blade

And now I’m sure it’s following me.

Maybe it’s a lost traveler. Maybe they think I’m leading them to civilization.

If it’s just a traveler, you can send them on their way.I squeeze the steering wheel. Yes, that does seem like the best idea. Just lead them to the church. If it’s nothing, I’ll give them directions.

If itissomething—Sawyer’s there. Balancing on that ladder, a whole bouquet of power tools and blunt objects and sharp blades arranged at his feet. A million possibilities flash behind my eyes, all of them bloody, all of them terrible. I hate that I’m not disturbed the way I think I should be.

The road narrows; I’m almost to the turnoff. I tap on thebrakes, slowing slightly. My skin is damp with nervous sweat, and I fiddle with the AC. It makes me too cold, too clammy.

The car slows, too.

Of course it would fucking slow down. Do you think it would just rear-end you?

The turnoff to Sawyer’s church materializes up ahead. I don’t slow anymore. I just grip the wheel, and breathe through my teeth, and then, at the very last moment, swerve onto the dirt road in a swirl of dust and dead leaves.

The car flashes by.

I let out a long, shuddery breath as I bump over the rutted dirt. It’s only another five minutes and I’ll be back at the church. I’ll be safe. I can tell Sawyer about this and laugh and?—

The car appears behind me.

I shrieked and slam my foot on the gas so hard my car jumps forward, suspension creaking. I can barely breathe. I don’t know what I’m going to do when I get to the church. Jump out, scream? No, it could still just be a traveler, and I don’t want someone innocent to get hurt. Sawyer doesn’t have a phone. I can’t call ahead to warn him.

The trees part; the golden grass of the clearing appears. Sawyer’s church is a flash of white like a dot of sunlight. I roar up to it and sit with the engine idling as the blue car pulls behind me and slows to a stop.

I don’t move, just stare at my rearview mirror, waiting. The car has dark-tinted windows. I have no idea who’s inside, but they aren’t getting out, like they’re waiting for me to do it first. Someone lost would get out. Wave. Make themselves look friendly.

I peer through the windshield, but there’s no sign of Sawyer. That concerns me, too. Shouldn’t he… smell that I’m in danger? Or sense it? Whatever he does?

I kill the car’s engine. I know I can’t just sit here all day. I clutch the car key in my hand the way I learned in college, a dullmetal blade jutting out from between my fingers. Then I step into the cool wind.

Immediately, the other car’s door swings open. I squeeze my key tighter, my breath fast and panting, as a man steps out. It’s not Scott, which is a relief. But it’s not someone vacationing in the mountains, either. He wears a neat dark suit, his brown hair cut close to his scalp. If this is Baro’s partner—and I can only assume it is—he looks meaner. More dangerous.

“Mrs. Hensner,” he says brightly, flashing me with a blinding smile. I step backward, heart hammering. “So you are alive and well.”

“Who are you?” I glance sideways at the church. Where the fuck is Sawyer?

Waiting. He’s waiting to strike.

“Logan Greer,” the man says. “Your husband hired my partner and me to find you.”

The way he sayspartnerbubbles with menace.

I swallow. Despite the cool autumn wind, my skin slicks with sweat beneath Sawyer’s flannel. The key is slippery in my palm.

“Tell myex-husband,” I stress the word, “that I don’t want to be found.”

Greer tilts his head. His eyes have a flatness to them that makes my skin go cold.

“I’m not sure you completely understand.” He steps toward me, his movements smooth and easy. I step backward and will Sawyer to come around the corner of the church. Why isn’t he here? What is hedoing?

“Your husband doesn’t want you tobe found,” Greer continues. “He wanted us tofind you. And then—” He takes a deep breath, gives me another one of those blinding smiles. “And then take care of you.”

He lunges at me, tearing across the grass. I dive sideways, swinging my clenched fist—and my car key—up just in time to slice across his face. The victory’s short-lived, though; Greerhowls and latches out, grabbing my wrist. The key disappears in the yellow grass. He wrenches me up to him and presses his ear into my mouth.

It’s nothing like when Sawyer does it.

“I know my partner was squeamish about this,” he snarls, wrenching my arm painfully back along my spine. “Is that what happened to him? He actually found you out here, and then he hesitated?” His breath is hot and humid, and he squeezes my arm tighter. “I’m not going to hesitate.”

---