Doomsday Can Wait (Phoenix Chronicles, #2)(17)

Jimmy went under, then he stayed there so long I nearly went in and hauled him out. At last he burst above the surface, flinging droplets every which way.

"What are you doing here?" He faced the rock wall, rubbing at his skin, even though I didn't see any more blood.

"What do you think?" I asked. "We're in a war, Sanducci, and I'm a little short on soldiers.'"

"I won't be any good to you."

"You looked pretty good a few minutes ago. I'd say you've still got it."

He shook his head, and his shoulders slumped. "I've been trying to beat the monster back. I thought I had it under control, then I saw that thing hit you and—"

"You saved me. What's so wrong about that?"

"I wanted to drink its blood, Lizzy."

"I know," I said softly.

"I can never leave here while I want that, and I'm starting to think that I'll never be able to stop wanting it."

"Maybe Sawyer—" I began.

Jimmy spun around. "No."

They never had gotten along. I'd never been sure why, though I had my theories.

"He knows things," I said.

"If I let him mess with my head, I'll end up crazier than I already am."

"I don't think he'd—"

"No, Lizzy."

Since I didn't know where Sawyer was anyway, I let it go.

Jimmy studied my face, then as if someone had cued the sound effects, one loud, earthshaking burst of thunder rattled the earth. "You came here to kill me."

I hesitated, then told him the truth. "Maybe. I don't know."

"I've been feeding on people.'"

"No one's dead." I couldn't believe I was using Sum-mer's argument.

And speaking of Summer, where was she? I didn't have time to go on a fairy hunt right now. I had a very strong feeling that if I turned my back on Jimmy, he'd be gone.

"Yet," he said, taking my side of the argument.

"You said you'd been trying to control the—" I paused, uncertain what to call the part of him the strega had awoken.

"Monster. Beast. Vampire. Thing. Say it!" His voice bounced off the walls of the cavern, full of both anger and pain.

"Fine," I said. "How do you control your inner bloodsucker?"

"I don't know. Being near people . . ." He shrugged, his wet shirt clinging to his wet body. "It's too hard. I can hear your pulse, the blood streaming through your veins." He put his hands over his ears, then let them slowly fall back into the water. "It's deafening."

"So you came here because it's isolated?"

"Not isolated enough," he muttered. "But yeah. I'd been here before, searched these caves."

"For what?"

"The howler. Always bugged me that I never found him."

"He found you this time." Probably figured Jimmy was after him again and decided to end things once and for all.

Jimmy seemed calmer, so I emptied my pockets— cell phone, money, et cetera—then jumped into the pool, shoes and all. They were pretty much ruined anyway.

He tensed. "What are you doing?"

I didn't answer, just ducked beneath the water and began to scrub at my face, neck, hair, as he had.

When I came up, Jimmy sat on the edge of the pool. "You shouldn't have come after me," he said. "I didn't want you to see me like this."

"I already have."

He closed his eyes; his lips tightened. "How could you stand to be near me after what I did? How could you have—"

"Touched you?" I swam closer. "Made love to you?"

"Why did you?" he whispered.

I'd needed to drown out the bad memories with good ones. I'd hoped that he could get past all that had happened, all that he'd done, if I pretended that I'd gotten past it. But when I'd woken the morning after, Jimmy had been gone. One of the things Jimmy was very good at—besides sex—was leaving.

I didn't want to bring up the time I'd spent as Jimmy's captive in the Strega's lair. Those recollections would do neither one of us any good.

Instead, I set my hands on his knees. His eyes sprang open. As always, whenever we got near each other, we had a hard time thinking with our heads and ignoring other more interesting parts of our anatomy.

My palms slid over his thighs, the clenching muscles like stone against my fingertips. He smelled like rain, different yet still the same. I stepped between his legs, looked into his face. He tried to scoot back. Maybe get to his feet and run away again, I don't know. Off balance, he tipped forward, and all it took was a tiny tug for him to join me.

His body bumped mine, here and there, then here again as the water brought us together and apart.

He gained his feet; I did, too, so close my breasts slid across his chest. I lost my footing, nearly went under, and he grabbed me. We froze, but only for an instant. Then we were kissing as if we'd been separated for a de-cade.

I don't know what got into me. I hadn't planned to kiss him, to touch him. I hadn't had any sort of plan at all.

But once I did, it seemed right to show him that some things hadn't changed. That this hadn't changed. We only had to be near each other to want, only had to brush against each other to need.