Not So Human

Chapter 6

The intensity in her voice was compelling, but it was the look of real fear in her eyes that actually did the trick. Groaning in sheer misery, Sabrina opened up the car door.

"I'm not happy about this."

"You'll thank me later."

Despite her heartless words, Deanda still gave Sabrina several minutes to stretch and perform other stalling tactics before hustling her forward, luggage in hand. Even then, it took them a significant amount of time to make it to the appropriate counter, since Sabrina made sure to stop to look at everything she could.

First, she asked to check out the tiny bookstore they passed. Two minutes later, she let herself get distracted by a jewelry ad. After she'd gone so far as to backtrack to that first store to buy several novels, Deanda made it clear she'd had enough and practically dragged her toward their actual destination.

"I'd like two one-way tickets to Glasgow on your next plane out," Deanda told the very pleasant blond behind the first computer screen.

Maybe it was because she was so very nervous about flying, but Sabrina thought the woman was obnoxiously cheerful as her fingers flew over the keyboard.

The same went for when she chirped out her findings. "It looks like we do have a few seats left on a nineteen twenty-five flight to Heathrow. It has an initial layover in Boston, and then you'll have to change planes in London to get to Glasgow. If you want a more direct connection, there isn't one available until tomorrow."

"No, that's fine. We'll take it," Deanda assured.

Once again, there was the furious clacking of keys, mentioning of flights and explanation of boarding, arrival and layover times. Sabrina worried her lower lip anxiously, her eyes scanning the scattered rows of chairs and check-in lines for some sort of salvation.

"May I see your passports?"

It hadn't dawned on Sabrina before that she might need a passport, though it made perfect sense now that she thought about it. It also made one giant problem since she didn't have one, a realization that first sent a wave of relief washing over her. But that was followed by a surprisingly intense sting of disappointment. It might have been fun to see Scotland, even if it was on trumped-up faerie business.

Sabrina was just about to tell Deanda that there was a slight flaw in the plan, when she realized her friend had slid not one but two blue-backed booklets across the counter. If the ticket lady had any problem with them, she didn't say so, handing them back a moment later with another smile.

Sabrina pounced on hers before Deanda could reach for it, opening it up to stare in disbelief. The picture was definitely hers, as was the birth date, though her name was listed as Jennifer Coring.

"I don't have a passport," she practically hissed when they walked away with their printed tickets tucked into a neat little brochure-like envelope. "Particularly one issued to Jennifer Coring."

"Your brother got one for you. And don't worry about the alias. It all appears legit thanks to a little bit of faerie doctoring."

Suddenly seeing a discrepancy in the bigger picture, Sabrina was quick to bring it up. "Why would a faerie need a passport in the first place? I mean, can't they just fly wherever they want to?"

"How many miles is it between Scotland and the U.S.?" Deanda pointed out with raised eyebrows and a distinctly superior attitude.

"Oh," Sabrina acquiesced in a single syllable.

"Not to mention carrying luggage and small children. Nobody has that kind of stamina."

"You can't just teleport or something like that?"