Doomsday Can Wait (Phoenix Chronicles, #2)(36)

I smoothed my fingers across my ribs, then upward, cupping the heavy weight of my own breasts. Jimmy's face flickered behind my closed eyelids. I might just be on to something here.

Perhaps, in order to "see" someone who'd touched me, I had to touch myself in the same way they had. Or at least in the way most likely to invoke some kind of response.\

I rolled my own nipples between my fingers, lifting my breasts until I could take the rosy tips into my mouth and suckle, first one and then the other. The sensation shot through me like a dying star across the sky. My skin tingled; my toes curled. I was so close to eruption, thanks to the dreams I'd had, that a single stroke between my legs brought me home, and in the seconds that followed, I saw everything that I needed to.





CHAPTER 14


Jimmy was in New Mexico, staying in a virtual clone of the motel we now occupied. Two signs were visible through the open window at his back—the sleep cheap—a name like that really made you want to curl up on the sheets, didn't it?—and interstate 25.

It was daytime, and Jimmy was reading the Red Rock Sentinel. He appeared awfully interested in what was inside.

"Friday," he whispered, and then he smiled. His damn fangs were out, and the sun sparked red off the glare at the center of his eyes. I could say he didn't look himself, but I'd be lying. The new and not so improved Jimmy Sanducci was beginning to look just like this.

He placed the paper face up on the table, and my gaze flicked over every advertisement, every article. The only one that said anything about Friday spoke of a traveling show.



The Gypsy Fortune-telling Circus Extravaganza.

Wow. Something for everyone.

What did they have for Jimmy? The question gave me a bad, bad feeling.

Wrapping a towel around myself since I'd left my duffel in the other room, I barreled through the door and grabbed my phone.

Sawyer was watching the hunt, fish, kill channel again and barely spared me a glance. He probably knew I'd bean him with the nearest heavy object if he messed with me right now. The man might be annoying, but the wolf learned fast.

Summer picked up on the other end sounding wide awake and far too chirpy—when didn't she?—for what had to be long before dawn in the west. "I'm glad you called."

"You found him?"

It would be too much to ask that she'd already corralled Jimmy and— My thoughts ended there. I had no idea what she could do to make him give up his fascination with killing himself.

"No. I flew over the mountains. They weren't there, so I'm waiting at Sawyer's."

"Ditch that. He's with me."

"Sawyer? But how—"

"What has four legs and likes to howl at the moon?"

"Oh. Then why—"

Quickly I filled her in on what had happened since she'd flown off.

"Don't tell Jimmy he's here," I finished.

"You think I'm an idiot?"

"I'll assume you don't really want me to answer that."

I heard a soft laugh on the other end of the line and found myself smiling. Sometimes talking to Summer was almost like talking to Megan.

Son of a— I rubbed my forehead. I needed to call Megan.

"Head to Red Rock," I continued. "You know it?"

"A little place near Las Cruces. Jimmy's there?"

"Yes."

I didn't wait around for her to ask me how I knew where he was, just continued giving orders. It was my strong suit.

"He's planning to attend a traveling show on Friday." I paused, frowned. "What in hell day is it anyway?"

"Friday."

"Fuck."

"Relax. I can get to Red Rock pretty fast."

She could fly.

"What kind of traveling show?" she asked. "I can't see him attending the latest touring presentation of The Lion King."

"A circus. With Gypsies."

Silence came over the line, and I got an even worse feeling than I'd had before.

"What's so bad about Gypsies?" I asked.

"You don't know?"

I wasn't going to explain again how little I knew, how woefully inadequate I was to lead the forces against Armageddon, the Apocalypse, Doomsday, end of days. Whatever you called it, I so wasn't ready for it. Luckily Summer didn't make me explain; she did.

"Gypsies know all about dhampirs, including how to kill them."

"First off—there are still Gypsies?"

'There are still Italians, Navajo, Irish, and every other nationality you can think of. Gypsies are no different." She paused. "Well, they are different. Even though they spread all over the globe centuries ago and have wandered on every continent, they rarely interact with anyone else, except in cases of commerce. If a Gypsy intermarries with a gaje, a non-Gypsy, they're banished."

"Feudal much?"

"It's their way."

"Tell me why they know about dhampirs."

"Because they started them."

I glanced at Sawyer, who'd turned off the hunting channel and now stared at me avidly. I had no doubt that his superior hearing allowed him to catch both sides of the conversation.

"That makes no sense. Dhampirs are the offspring of a Nephilim and a human, same as any breed. Which means the Nephilim started them."