“You have the guts to condemn me over what I did for Jimmy, but you did a lot worse.”
“Worse?” I lifted one hand, palm up near my face. “Sell my soul?” I put the other, palm up, near my hip. “Screw a Nephilim?” Then I changed their positions a few times. “Yeah, what I did was definitely worse than what you did.”
I was being sarcastic, but Summer nodded as if satisfied.
“Enough,” Ruthie snapped. “We all do what we think is best at the time.”
Luther’s gaze met mine, his no longer hazel but deep brown. I knew Ruthie was thinking of the things she’d done, things that had hurt me and others. I understood her so much better now. Hell, I even felt an annoying camaraderie with Summer. The things we do for love.
Though I sympathized with the fairy, I couldn’t help but point out, “I can confine the new demon. You’re always gonna owe Satan a favor.”
Summer’s eyes widened. Luther sighed, shook his head, and cast me a disappointed glance. “Lizbeth.”
“Well, it’s true,” I said. “Isn’t it?”
“Suspect so,” Ruthie agreed.
“Except you’re gonna need someone who loves you to confine it, and Jimmy’s gone,” Summer sneered.
I stilled. “What was that?”
Summer appeared to have swallowed a rotten egg. “Nothing,” she said, but her voice was strangled.
“I thought the plenus luna malum spell was a sex spell.”
“No, child,” Ruthie murmured. “It’s all about love.”
“Did Jimmy know it was a love spell?”
Summer’s lips tightened. She wasn’t going to tell me.
“Of course,” Ruthie murmured.
I thought of that night, of the candles and the incense, how strange it had been for Jimmy to use them.
“Pink candles,” I blurted.
Summer scowled; Luther’s eyebrows shot up.
“Conjures memories,” Ruthie said.
Jimmy had been trying to bring back our memories of love. Had he been unsure of my feelings or his?
“Love is stronger than hate,” Ruthie said, something she believed utterly, but about which I still had many doubts. “And sex with love,” Ruthie continued, “is the most powerful kind of magic.”
I swallowed against the sudden tightness in my throat. Jimmy still loved me.
No wonder Summer wanted me dead.
On the heels of that thought came another. Summer and Jimmy had done that spell. I guess he loved her, too.
I couldn’t be too angry. The only reason any of us was alive right now was because I’d loved— “Sawyer.”
“He isn’t going to be much use for a love spell,” Summer observed. “Considering he tried to kill you.” She tilted her head as an exaggerated expression of deep thought spread over her face. “But did he ever love you? Or did you just love him?”
I’d never been certain about that myself. Right now, though, I had a more important question. “Where is he?”
“Turned into a wolf and—” Luther’s huge hands flipped upward in a very Ruthie-like gesture. “Disappeared into the mountains.”
“Frick,” I muttered. We were never going to find him there.
“I tried to warn you,” Ruthie said.
“Consequences.” I took a deep breath. “He isn’t the same.”
“He’s exactly what he’s always been.”
I glanced up sharply. “You saw him. He’s—”
“He’s a skinwalker, child. He’s always walked the line. The only thing that kept him from the dark side was you.”
“Now he’s crossed over?”
Luther’s long finger slid slickly down the side of my neck then appeared in front of my face covered in blood. “What do you think?”
“Just because he’s annoyed with me doesn’t mean he’s gone to the dark side,” I muttered.
“I’d say tearing out your throat and leaving you for dead goes beyond annoyance,” Ruthie returned.
I’d have to agree.
“You get any word from above about this?” I asked.
Ruthie’s wise old eyes narrowed in Luther’s bright young face. “Why you think I whispered ‘skinwalker’ to the boy? Sawyer’s more Nephilim than human now.”
“Nice job, Ace,” Summer muttered.
“Can I kick her?” I asked.
No one answered. It had been rhetorical anyway.
Luther’s head swung toward the front window just as headlights flashed.
“What is it?” I asked.
Ruthie breathed in deeply, let the air stream out slowly. “No evil vibes.” Her lips tightened. “But I still don’t like it.”
Neither did I. It was late. We were in the middle of nowhere.
Stones crunched beneath tires. First the lights died, then the motor.
“I’ll go.” Luther had returned.
“Like hell.” I reached for him, and his lion rumbled.
“We go together or not at all,” he said.
“Fine,” I snapped.
I followed him into the hall, Summer at my back, only to discover the front door had been blown off its hinges.
Sawyer. He always did like to make an exit.
I stood between them, shoulder-to-shoulder on the porch, as two men climbed out of a pickup truck. They were white, not Navajo.