I turned back, lowered my voice. "I need someone I can trust, Luther."

As his eyes widened, they slowly returned to hazel. "For what?"

"You know I can't take Faith with me."

His head tilted as he studied my face. "What are you planning on doing up there?"

I couldn't help it. I glanced again at Jimmy, who lifted his eyebrows as if he'd heard. Though Luther and I had been speaking in a whisper, maybe he had. Sanducci's ears were as supersonic as his eyes.

"Whatever I have to," I answered, holding Jimmy's gaze.

He knew what I'd done to raise the last ghost. Or should I say who? He also knew I might have to do the same thing again. No doubt another reason he'd been trying to stop me.

Thus far I'd only slept with two men for power. But sooner or later I'd need something that only a stranger could give. I wasn't looking forward to it.

I forced myself to turn away from Sanducci and face Luther again. From the way the kid's cheeks had darkened, he knew exactly what I'd meant. Good. I didn't want to explain. Especially not to him.

"Ruthie thinks Faith would be safer with Jimmy," I continued, "but he's being . . ." I lifted one shoulder then lowered it. "Jimmy. And Summer-"

"Doesn't like you."

"Can't say I blame her." The feeling was oh, so mutual. "I doubt she'd hurt a baby, but-"

"You didn't expect her to sell her soul to Satan in exchange for Sanducci's life, either."

"Right. If you're there, I can do what I need to without worrying, and the quicker I go, the quicker I'll get back. If we're lucky I'll find out from Sawyer not only who's after Faith and why, but also who took the Key of Solomon."

Luther nodded and stepped away from the car. "You can count on me," he said.

I could. I trusted this kid as much as I'd once trusted Jimmy. As much as I'd still trust Jimmy-if he hadn't gone soft on soul-selling fairies.

Luther held out his arms for Faith, and as I began to hand her over, there was a bright flash, and she was a baby again. I nearly dropped her at the unexpected increase in weight and wiggliness.

Luther s.n.a.t.c.hed the child, and Faith giggled. "She's messing with you," he said.

I couldn't help but smile. If I'd been a shape-shifting infant, I'd probably have messed with everyone, too. I wouldn't have been able to help myself. Faith was growing on me-in both forms.

I headed around the rear of the Impala-a long trip, the car was a real beast-but I was distracted by outrageous kissy noises. Turning, I discovered Faith smooching out her lips and holding out her arms.

"Where did she get that?" I asked.

"Beats me."

I studied the child for several seconds. "Have you noticed she's maturing at the speed of . . ."

"What?" Luther asked.

"Not human, that's for sure."

"She isn't."

"I think you need to write down what she does differently every day. Weigh her, measure her. See how fast she's growing."

"What for?"

"I don't know." It wasn't as if I was going to be able to do anything to stop Faith from becoming whatever it is she was.

"You better give her a kiss before she flips out," Luther warned.

Faith had continued to make smoochy sounds, and the longer I ignored them, the louder and more insistent they'd become.

I wasn't wild about kissing the kid. Her entire chin shone with spittle, and there was something that looked like dog-do on her knees. Her chubby hands were gray with dust; she had gra.s.s in her teeth. But really, what choice did I have?

I walked back, leaned over, and let her drool on me.

It wasn't so bad.

CHAPTER 14.

How had Faith wormed her way into my life so d.a.m.n fast? Was it because she was Sawyer's, and Sawyer was gone?

What would happen when she was old enough to ask where her father was? What happened when she asked how he'd died?

I winced. I wasn't going to think about that.

Instead I drove northwest for nearly an hour then stopped at a cafe with a parking lot full of semis. Truck drivers knew the restaurants with good food and even better coffee. They had to.

I was tired and hungry, and I needed to study the map. I wasn't quite sure how to get to Inyan Kara from here.

I ordered coffee, orange juice, eggs, sausage, and wheat toast, then I pored over the map. I should reach the mountain in two or three hours, depending on how decent the roads were and how good the map was.

I could shape-shift and fly there. But that would leave me naked when I returned to human form. And returning was a given. No matter how special I might be, I wasn't a talking phoenix.

While naked might be a good way to convince a man, regardless how old, of anything, I'd rather try cool, calm, rational logic first.

I stared at the map, experienced a few seconds of concern at the size of Inyan Kara. How would I find this guy?

Truth was, I'd been in this situation before and the how always worked itself out. Take my trip to the Badlands to find Jimmy. They were huge but within minutes of seeing them, I'd known exactly where Sanducci was. I had no doubt the location of Sani would make itself known when I needed it to be.

Worst-case scenario, once I got to the top of the mountain I would use my speed or my shape-shifting or even my psychometric talent, if I came across something the old man had touched, to find him.

I finished my food, paid the bill, made use of the large, clean facilities-there was even a shower available for customer use; the number of female truck drivers on the road had increased greatly in the past few years-then took the "go" cup of coffee I'd ordered and got back into the Impala.

The road went on and on, seeming to disappear into the flat land surrounding me, but every once in a while I could have sworn I saw the dark brush of mountains against the horizon.

I'd just slowed to take a nearly hairpin turn around a small grove of trees and what appeared to be a cemetery in the middle of nowhere when something shot into the road.

I slammed on the brakes; my coffee went flying, soaking me, the seat, the floor. I barely noticed. All my attention was riveted on the white face and terrified eyes of the young woman just inches from my b.u.mper.

She slammed sc.r.a.ped and bloodied hands onto the hood. "Help me!" she screamed, then glanced over her shoulder. Blood trickled from the fang marks in her neck.

I closed my eyes for just an instant and caught the telltale buzz. When I opened them I knew even before I followed her gaze what I'd see.

Vampires. A lot of them.

However, the dozen or so figures moving in our direction resembled no vampires I'd ever seen. Covered in dirt, their clothes were torn, disintegrating into dust as I watched.

The girl scrambled to the pa.s.senger door, yanked on the handle, began to beat on it, sobbing, when it wouldn't open. I reached over, lifted the lock, and she tumbled inside. The scent of blood filled the enclosed s.p.a.ce, and my demon murmured.

I got out of the car, breathing deeply, and caught the distinct scent of rot. Were they zombies? I didn't think so. I'd never felt the vampire buzz for a zombie. Of course I'd never seen a true zombie, either. Revenants were something else.

Maybe these were zombie-vampires. And wouldn't that just be special?

"Hey! Come on!" The girl's volume control seemed stuck on shriek. Understandable, but my ears. "Let's get out of here!"

I leaned down. "Tell me what happened."

"f.u.c.k that!" She started to slide into the driver's seat, and I flicked her back with a jerk of one wrist.

"Tell me what happened," I repeated.

My magic hand twitch shocked the desire to scream right out of her, although now she looked at me with the same expression she'd looked at them.

"I-I took flowers to my grandma's grave. Then smoke b-b-began to rise."

"From where?"

"The graves," she said in the same tone she might have said freaking moron. "The smoke got thicker and-"

She stopped, biting her lip, frowning, already doubting the truth of what her eyes had plainly seen.

"Say it," I ordered. "I'll believe you."

"The smoke became them." I nodded encouragingly. "One of them grabbed me and-" She shuddered. "He bit me, and I could feel his lips, his tongue, his teeth. Sucking. He got a-" She swallowed. "Hard-on."

Definitely vampires, not that I'd had much doubt.

I cast a quick glimpse at the approaching horde. They weren't moving very fast. I wasn't sure why. But I was glad.

"Stay here," I ordered, and after grabbing my keys to make sure she did, I hurried to the trunk where I eyed the biggest knives I had. I possessed one sword, and I wished momentarily for two. I was going to have to do some beheading.

I took the sword in my right hand and a bowie knife in my left then shut the trunk. The girl was gone. A quick glance across the road revealed her running across a recently shorn field of unidentifiable crops. She was making excellent time.

Good. I wouldn't need to worry about one or more of them flanking me and getting to her. I didn't need to think up a plausible excuse for what she'd seen-not that there was one.

I returned my attention to the problem far too close at hand. Beheading usually discouraged the most determined vampire, but I'd met things in the past that were capable of picking up their head and putting it back on. I hated when that happened.

The vampires closed in, and the smell of death intensified. "What are you?" I asked.

They were either smart enough not to answer me, or incapable of speech. I counted fourteen-all men, all blond, blue-eyed, offensive linemantypes-six-seven or more, no necks, huge biceps and legs like oak trees. They looked like Vikings.

"I hate Vikings," I muttered-both the NFLteam and the ruthless invaders from the north-then swung my sword at the nearest one.

He grabbed the blade before I chopped off his head. I managed to slice several fingers, but that was nothing more than a shaving cut to a vampire. He reached for me with his uninjured hand; I ducked then rolled.

I was back on my feet in an instant-a state champion gymnastics medal had turned out to be the most useful part of high school. Add to that supernatural speed and strength and I could hold my own.

Sensing a vampire creep close, I spun; sweeping out with my sword, I managed to slice his neck. Blood sprayed, but he didn't die. His d.a.m.n head hung half on and half off.

Three others were near enough that I could smell their rancid breath. I flicked a hand, and they bowled over two more who hovered behind, all five going down like pins on a lane. I finished off the wounded one just as he began to heal. The instant his head separated completely from his body, both halves burst into ashes.

"Yes!"

Whirling, I kicked another in the chest. He flew several feet and landed on the hood of the Impala. I winced at the resulting crunch. Summer was going to make me pay for that in ways that had nothing to do with money.

I kept flicking, kicking, and beheading, but I didn't seem to be making much progress. They were like the proverbial fishes. The more I killed, the more seemed to appear. I thought of the Iyas spilling over the horizon in a never-ending stream. Was this going to be the way every battle went from now on?

I was beginning to tire, to wonder what I was going to do when I ran out of gas. Then I felt a ripple in the air around me. Not the wind. There wasn't even a trace of a breeze.

In that instant of distraction, a vampire slunk close enough to bear-hug me from behind. He tried to sink his teeth into my neck and got a mouthful of dog collar instead. The necklace was good for more than just demon containment.

Howling-I think he lost a fang-he dropped me. I landed on my feet swinging and nearly took off the head of a man with a distinctly different appearance from all the others.

Though blond, he was sun-burnished instead of winter-pale. His eyes, while blue, were more indigo than sky, and though he seemed short compared with the others, he was still several inches taller than me, which put him over six feet. Wiry and quick, he brandished a sword in each hand, and he knew exactly what to do with them.

As I continued to gape at his sudden appearance, the man hacked off the heads of two vampires at once before moving on to two more.

I couldn't stop staring. Blood trailed over his bare chest and back. Copper armbands engraved with fleurs-de-lis cupped his biceps. He wore a necklace of silver charms, and something shiny hung from one ear, tangling with the golden length of his hair.

Strands of white threaded the gold and fine lines of age creased his eyes, but his body was honed and hard. He might be anywhere from thirty to fifty.

One of the half demons managed to grab him by the throat. The Nephilim's hand got tangled in the necklace, and he screamed as first fire then smoke flared from his fingertips. I really wanted to know what that guy wore around his neck, and then I'd get me some.

"Duck," the man shouted, so I did. A vampire's arms slapped together above my head. "If you can't help, you're hurting," he snapped. "Run and hide."

"Like h.e.l.l," I muttered.

Embarra.s.sed to be caught losing a fight, I hacked my way through more than my share of what remained. Ten minutes later the only things still moving on the road were Blondie and me.

Breathing heavily, covered in blood and ashes, I headed for the Impala, where I kept bottles of water in the trunk. We could both use a drink and a wash.