I ignored the overture, choosing to stare back at him instead. I was curious what he wanted if it wasn't to kill me, but I couldn't begin to think of a question. Then I had it. "How long have you been watching me and why?"
He studied me for a second, then gestured toward the front seat. "Why don't we get going before state patrol decides to check and see what the ten feet of skid marks you left back there are about?"
I must not have looked all that eager. He added, "You drive; I'll talk. We've still got an hour or more, plenty of time to get to know each other as well as you like." His voice lowered on the last.
I wasn't all that keen on being trapped in a car with him, but on the other hand, if he was with me, I knew what he was doing and he was right, sooner or later a trooper would wander along. I climbed into the front seat, placing my foot firmly on his gut in the process.
He didn't comment, didn't even grab my foot, just let out a slight grunt. Once I was in place, he wedged his body through the opening between the seats and levered his long frame in the space allowed between seat and dash.
"You could have come through the door," I said.
"And risk you peeling out over my foot? I don't think so." With another grunt he pulled on the seat adjustment and sent the thing whizzing backward.
I didn't bother responding. He was right; I would have. After checking my side mirror, I pulled back onto the interstate. When I glanced back at my uninvited guest, he was lounged against the passenger door looking annoyingly pleased with himself.
"Well?" I snapped.
He raised both brows.
"Talk." I whipped the Jeep into the left lane to pass a convoy of semis before a man in a sedan wearing a business suit and chatting on his phone could cut me off.
The son waited for me to get back in the right-hand lane. I frowned at him. "I can stop again."
"In the same manner? I don't know if your tires can take it."
I put on my turn signal.
He held up one hand. "Fine. I'm Jack Parker, your neighbor of five years and an Amazon son."
Sounded like a confession, like you'd hear at some twelve-step program. I waited to see if another confession was coming, but his lips were firmly closed.
"Five years?" I thought back to where I had been, what I had been five years ago. Two days ago I would have said exactly where I was now-but today's events had made me realize that wasn't true.
"Five years. That's when we got organized enough to assign sons to the safe camps," he explained.
"So all the safe camps have sons watching them?" This was information the council, if they still existed, would want to know.
He shrugged. "Of course. Don't think it will help you, though. The sons assigned to the camps are good. You won't find them unless they want to be found."
I glanced at him. "I found you."
"Not at your camp. I showed myself to you there. I didn't have to."
"You did if you wanted to steal the baby."
"Save. We saved the baby."
I concentrated on the road for a minute. I wasn't ready to talk about the baby just yet. I had to decide what I was going to do about my assignment, but not at this exact moment.
"So, you've been watching us. Why?"
He twisted in his seat, sinking down a little and playing with a pen he'd picked up from the floor. He flipped it over the knuckles of his right hand so quickly the motion was nothing but a blur.
"I was told to."
"Ha." I shook my head. "Who's the sheep?"
His fingers stilled. "I was told to, but I was given all the information. Then I thought about what I was doing, knew the consequences and believed in the cause."
"I believe in the cause." Not his cause, but the cause of the Amazons.
"Really. Tell me what you believe. Tell me what you want for your tribe."
What did I want? Survival, strength, happiness. . I shifted my hands on the steering wheel. "I'm not the one who's supposed to be talking; you are. Tell me how you got the baby, what else you know."
He held up the pen and waved it back and forth like a no you don't finger. "Bossy, aren't you? Of course, I knew that."
I suppressed a growl.
"The condor you saw. He knows the mother."
I let that compute.
"So she gave him her baby?" I asked. It was possible; not all Amazon mothers were as "motherly" as Mel. "Does he have the child now?" I was avoiding stating the baby's sex. I had been told it was a girl, but Mel claimed it was a boy. I'd like to hear this son confirm one or the other before offering it myself.
He smiled. "He may. Let's talk about you and the Amazons."
"You can't beat us," I replied.
He quirked his head. "Who said we want to beat you?"
"I'm sorry. I misunderstood the bite on my leg-what was that?"
"I didn't start that fight."
"You did, you-"
"Saved the baby. I know, we've covered that."
Not really. But maybe it was time we did. "Why?" I asked. Attacking us like they had, two against two, had been a risk.
A shadow passed behind his eyes. "Because we know what the Amazons have planned for him."
Him. He'd said it. "The baby is a boy? How do I know that?"
He frowned. "Why would I lie about that? He's a son, Mateo. . the condor's. . son. The mother is on your high council. When she learned some of the council members planned to kill her child, to send some kind of message to the rest of the tribe, she contacted Mateo."