"But Summer's ... a rodeo fairy."
Sawyer's eyes widened, and I thought he might laugh. Luther glanced back and forth between us, absorbing everything, questioning nothing. He learned fast.
"She's different, true," Sawyer agreed. "But she was in Ireland for a very long time."
"No accent," I said.
"Glamour. She can be anything she desires."
Could she be anything anyone desired? For instance, was Summer a blond, busty, "come on and ride me" fairy because that was what Jimmy wanted? And if she was had she become that way on Ruthie's orders?
I gritted my teeth. I couldn't worry about that now. I had to get to New Mexico and do what needed to be done before the woman of smoke figured out what I was up to and stopped me.
CHAPTER 29
"Plane or paws?" I asked.
We definitely needed to get to New Mexico faster than the Impala could take us.
Skinwalkers can move quicker than the eye can track, which is what gave rise to the legend that a skinwalker could disappear in one place and appear in another. I wasn't certain how fast a Marbas could run, but I was betting pretty damn fast.
"Plane," Sawyer said.
"Really?"
I was not only shocked at his choice but shocked that he wasn't going to argue with me. I'd been formulating a plan—what would I do if he tried to keep me here?—that involved yanking off Sawyer's talisman, then leaving him behind while Luther and I hopped a plane to Albuquerque.
The problem with that plan was that Sawyer as a wolf would probably beat us there. At the least he wouldn't be very late, which threw a wrench into the whole getting-away-from-him idea. But his being so agreeable, that was another kind of wrench.
"What's up with you?" I asked.
"Me?" He put a bloody palm to his now bloody white shirt, which made me think he hadn't been as calm as he'd appeared when I'd come out of it. He'd been trying to save me, even though I hadn't needed saving. "What did I do?"
"You refused to help me."
"I refused to kill you." He dropped his hand and sniffed. "So shoot me. Or did you use all your bullets on your own head?"
He was pissed. That was new. Guess I'd really scared him Though I couldn't quite figure out how.
Luther stood off to the side, watching us closely. My gun had disappeared. From the way his saggy pants sagged more on his right side, I had a pretty good idea where it had gone.
"We should wait a while," Sawyer murmured. "We might find another way to end her."
"Have you found a way in all the decades?" He lifted a brow. "Fine. Centuries that you've been trying?"
"No."
"Then I doubt another method will drop into our lap any time soon."
"Miracles happen."
"Not to me."
"You've come back from the dead twice in the last week. That's not a miracle?"
I frowned. There was something about that statement that gave me the creeps, but I couldn't figure out what.
"I don't understand you," I said. "I'm the only one who can do this, yet you try to talk me out of it."
"I know what she's capable of." He took a deep breath as he stared at the dark shadows that composed Brownport College. "You'll sell your soul, and she'll still win."
"Gee, thanks." He shrugged. "So you want me to give up? To hide in a hole and let everyone die?"
Sawyer returned his gaze to mine. "I want you to, but I know you won't. So. . ." He spread his hands. "We'll go to New Mexico."
"On a plane," I clarified.
"We could go on four paws, all of us." Sawyer contemplated Luther. "I could help him change, but I don't think he'd be in control of his beast well enough to travel cross-country yet."
"I don't think I would be, either," Luther muttered.
"And a lion's going to stick out in Indiana, Illinois. Missouri, hell, everywhere, like a—" I searched for an appropriate simile and floundered.
"Lion in a haystack?" Sawyer offered.
Was that a mixed metaphor? Maybe. But basically . ..
"Yeah," I said. "You have ID?"
Sawyer nodded, so did Luther. I nearly asked how that was possible, then decided it didn't matter, as long as we got where we needed to go and fast.
By the time dawn lightened the Louisville skyline, we were pulling into long-term parking, then heading for the terminal. I'd showered and changed in the locker room of the Brownport Bible College field house while Sawyer and Luther kept watch.
Since it was well after midnight, the place was empty. But I'd needed to wash away all traces of my ticket to dream walking before we went anywhere. Traveling— in a car or a plane—looking as if I'd been on the losing end of a very bloody fight was not a good idea. Sure, we could get out of jams using brute force or magic, but that took time. And time was one thing in short supply.
I don't know how I knew that but I did. Ever since I'd woken up with the moon shining down and a good portion of my brains on the outside instead of the inside, I'd felt as if a dragon were breathing fire on my neck. In other words, I needed to move forward and fast.