Doomsday Can Wait (Phoenix Chronicles, #2)(48)

Though the place blazed with spotlights, it appeared deserted. From the litter here and there across the ground and the wispy scent of popcorn and cotton candy still in the air, the show had gone on.

The lights went out with a tinny thunk, one by one, and darkness crept over the desert like a thief. In the distance coyotes howled, and the hair on my arms tingled.

I inched closer, my gaze searching for movement. Where was Jimmy? Where was Summer? Hell, where was anyone?

A light came on in one of the tents. Figures moved beyond the canvas. I was drawn forward, through the air, across the earth and into the tent.

Jimmy was tied to a chair with golden chains. The Gypsies definitely knew what they were doing. Silver does nothing to a dhampir, but gold is something else. It wouldn't kill him, but it would certainly sting. Already his wrists and ankles had red, raw ridges. They'd heal, but much slower than wounds made by anything else.

I'd wondered if his vampire nature would overcome the sensitivity to gold. The metal certainly hadn't bothered the strega. But considering Jimmy's reaction to the chains, gold still remained his Kryptonite.

The tent was full of what I assumed were Gypsies. Dark skin and hair, rough hands, they wore jeans, white shirts, a few had hoops in their ears, but other than that, they could be anyone.

"You dare to come here, to touch our women?" one of the men shouted, then backhanded Jimmy across the mouth.

His lip split, blood ran down his chin, his tongue flicked out to taste, and his fangs flashed. He hissed at them—oh, he was playing this to the hilt—and his eyes blazed red at the center. He lunged, struggling against his bonds, the pressure of the golden chains against his skin causing smoke to rise.

The man who'd shouted held out his hand and one of the others slapped a gun into it.

"Bullets?" he asked.

"Gold."

The man smiled. "This will hurt," he said, and shot Jimmy in the chest.

I screamed. No one heard me. I wasn't really there. I could do nothing but watch. I'd never felt so helpless in all my life.

This was the end. I'd never see him again, never touch him, never work through all the issues I had with him. But even worse than that, he'd be removed from my arsenal of Doomsday weaponry. I'd lost DKs right and left, but losing Jimmy would be fatal for our cause.

All of this went through my head in a millisecond. The bullet plowed into Jimmy's heart; his head lolled; he died with a smile on his face.

The Gypsy's finger tightened on the trigger again and just as suddenly released before firing that second fatal shot. Something was happening. Every guy in the place stilled as sparkly dust rained down.

Summer walked in, took the gun from the man's hand and tossed it into a nearby bucket of water. There were several in the corner; I'm not sure why. Perhaps one of the Gypsies had planned to water the show animals after they ended the dhampir. All in a day's work.

"About time," I murmured. Where had she been?

Although now that I thought about it, today was still Friday. So much had happened, I figured we'd moved on to Saturday or Sunday a few days ago. Summer still should have gotten there more quickly, but maybe she'd had to buck a headwind.

With her head.

The fairy went directly to Jimmy, patted his face. smoothed back his hair in a gesture that made my stomach dance with an emotion I didn't want to examine too closely. She was there; she would save him, and I needed to be grateful.

The golden chains were locked. I expected her to demand the key, or have one of the Gypsies release him. Instead, she hit them with fairy dust, and they fell to the dirt floor with a hollow thud. I was liking that dust more and more as time went on.

Jimmy was still unconscious. His split lip had healed, but his black T-shirt was slick with blood.

Summer patted his face. "Jimmy?"

He didn't react. She slapped him, hard. "Right now, dammit!"

Her voice shook. She was pissed.

When he still didn't wake up, she snatched one of the buckets and poured water over his head. He inhaled a bit and woke up choking.

One hand went to his chest, which must have hurt like a bitch. He stared at his bloodied palm, then glanced up at Summer. His mouth tightened, and he came out of the chair with a roar of fury, fangs flashing. She flicked him a handful of fairy dust, and he went as still as the Gypsies.

How could she do that? Her magic shouldn't work on us.

She took his hand and led him toward the tent flap. Jimmy went with her like a child. They reached the exit and she turned back, giving the Gypsies a second coat, before she looked up and straight into my eyes.

No one had ever seen me watching them before, but Summer wasn't like anyone else.

She said a few words that I thought were Gaelic and together they walked from the tent.

I hurried after, but once outside the desert darkness closed in. No moon, just stars, the only light from the tent and the distant town of Red Rock. No movement anywhere that I could see.

Jimmy and Summer had disappeared.





CHAPTER 18


The buzzing of my cell phone tumbled me out of the vi-sions. I reached for it with my free hand, the other still over my chest. I needed to return to New Mexico. I had to figure out where they'd gone.

"Hello?"

"Don't come after us."

"Summer?"

"He needs to be alone. I can help him."