Never trust a psychopath. "It was a … dream," I lied.
"Tell me about this dream." He was amused again, calling my bluff.
I hesitated, debating internally. I needed help to figure out my purpose and yet, the sheriff had too many secrets for me to feel comfortable telling him everything. That said, he was also in a position to influence the twins that were confusing my brain chips.
"I had a … dream," I started. "Your twin brothers start a war that ends in the deaths of a million people. I meant to go to the chief of your tribe, so I could warn him about this dream." The explanation sounded lame to my ears, but he was listening closely.
"You want to warn my uncle that my brothers are going to start a war?" he repeated.
"Yes."
"Why would they do that?"
"I'm not sure. Something happens in a few days."
The ah-ha look on his face made me think I said too much. He sat back. "And you thought the chief could ensure it doesn't happen."
I shrugged. "I thought maybe he could convince them not to do something stupid before he dies."
The sheriff raised an eyebrow.
"I mean … not that he will die in four days, just that …" I was digging a hole, unable to stop beneath the gorgeous gaze focused on me. "Did I mention you've got a great body?" Good deflection, Josie.
"You're a might bit touched," he said and shook his head.
"But you do."
The sheriff ran a hand through his hair and hesitated, as if uncertain how to react.
Intrigued by the brief extinguishing of his quiet confidence, I began to suspect something else about him that never before crossed my mind. His discomfort touching me, his attempt to keep distance between us … "Do you go out with women much?" I asked.
"No. Why?"
"You like me."
His eyebrows shot up.
I laughed. "You do, don't you?"
"If this is your attempt to derail this discussion, Miss Josie, I - "
"Admit it and I'll tell you something you want to know!" I teased, sensing a new way to keep him disarmed around me.
The sheriff glared at me. "I find you a might bit attractive, yes."
"Okay." I didn't know why it was a triumph, but any give from the sexy, hardened cowboy before me was a victory. "My dream is real. Something bad is going to happen."
He waited.
"Fighting Badger is right. I can talk to spirits the way he can," I added, good humor fading as I thought of the disturbed man in the cave. "I can read him. I'm … torn between pity and horror. His mind is nothing but shadows and turmoil and pain unlike anything I've ever seen before. But he hurts people …"