“What are you doing?” I finally ask.
“I know someone who works in hospitality.” He shrugs. “She’ll grab his passport and bring it down to us.”
“Oh,” Ethan and I say at the same time. The assassin has no reason to go after a random human and blow his cover.
“Yeah.” Ford smirks. “The combination?”
Ethan rattles off a string of numbers. And less than fifteen minutes later, a statuesque blonde leans down to kiss Ford on the cheek as she pulls the passport from her purse and drops it in his lap.
“Thanks, Caroline,” he says as he turns on the ignition. Caroline throws him a wink over her shoulder as she sashays away.
I’m impressed. “That is the coolest handoff I’ve seen in a while.”
“I take it you’ve seen a lot of handoffs?” Ethan arches an eyebrow.
I ignore him. I’ve lived a long life. I’m not proud of all of it. “Do you know where we’re going, Ford?”
“Harry Reid International Airport.” He confidently maneuvers the Oldsmobile through traffic. “Unless you just risked facing a ‘golem’ for thrills.”
“I liked it better when you kept to one-syllable words and grunts for communication,” I mutter. “Departures. Terminal three.”
Ford grunts but ruins the effect by winking at me through the rearview mirror. My chest constricts. I stare out at the Strip and the rest of Las Vegas as we make the fifteen-minute trek to the airport. I don’t know if I’ll ever come back. I might never see Ford again. He’s agood man. A good ... friend. Making friends is a bad idea. I end up hurting them ... or they hurt me. But some people slip through my defenses somehow.
He pulls up to the curb in front of terminal three. I hop out of the car and grab the second bottle of stolen salt from my backpack. I open the cap and throw generous handfuls into the back seat and anywhere I’ve touched the car. I hope the Shingae will stay clear of Ford and his unshakable disbelief of magic.
“Whoa.” Ford stretches out his hands. “Is that salt? On my leather seats?”
“Yup.” The poor man. He looks like he might pass out. I throw a handful of salt at him for good measure. It was either that or hug him. A lump clogs my throat. I clear it sharply, losing patience with myself. “Do me a favor and use a vacuum to clean it up. Then you can rub it down with oil or whatever the hell you do to keep the damn thing so soft. But vacuum it first.”
Technology, like skepticism, is the antithesis of magic. The vacuum will help disperse my magic better than a towel.
His mouth opens and closes several times before he gets his voice to work. “A vacuum? Of all things. Fine. I got you. Don’t worry about it.”
Why do I keep wanting to hug the big oaf?Ugh.To my great relief, Ethan walks up and gives Ford a bro hug. The two have really bonded over the Oldsmobile Starfire.
“Thanks for the ride,” Ethan says, stepping back.
“No problem.” Ford tilts his chin toward me. “Take care of that one for me.”
Ethan nods solemnly. “I’ll keep her out of trouble.”
I look back and forth between the two assholes, talking about me like I’m not standing right there. Surprisingly, I’m not all that mad. In fact, I don’t mind having two friends who care about what happens to me.No.I’m not mad. I’m fucking terrified.
I’ve spent over a century running away from my past and my identity, avoiding any real connections, but I seem to be rushing headlongback toward everything I left behind. Receiving unwanted visits from Daeseong and company, reentering the Shingae, and making friends by accident. But nothing has changed. I still have every reason to run away from it all.
“Come on, Ethan. Say bye-bye to your friend.” I walk toward the entrance and wave without turning. “See you around, Ford.”
“See you soon, Sunny,” he calls out. “Your next round of tequila is on me.”
“Damn it all to hell,” I mutter as tears blur my vision. I pick up my pace and make a beeline for the Korean Air counter.
“Now are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Ethan says close to my ear, catching up with me.
“Korea.” I meet his eyes. “The Seonangshin showed me the way to an ancient cypress grove. We have to get there if we want any chance of ending the fucker who killed Ben.”
CHAPTER NINE
I tuck my hair behind my ears and approach the Korean Air counter with a bright smile. “Hi, we’d like two tickets to Incheon International Airport, please.”
