Doomsday Can Wait (Phoenix Chronicles, #2)(49)

"If you're going to help him then he won't be alone," I pointed out.

"I've blocked you."

I sat up. "And how can you do that? For that matter, how did you know I was there?"

"I'm a fairy," she said, as if that explained everything.

"Big f*cking hairy deal." I was so articulate when I was furious. "How did you zap Jimmy? What happened to your magic not working on DKs and seers?"

"It isn't that my magic doesn't work on you, it doesn't work on those on errands of mercy."

"So?"

"I doubt Jimmy recalls what mercy means at the moment."

She was right, but I still didn't like it.

"The reason I sent you was because I knew—" I stopped, not wanting to say it, but Summer had no problem.

"You knew I'd think of him first. That I'd protect him, even from you."

"Things have changed," I said. "The woman of smoke is the leader of the darkness."

"She can't be. You're still alive and annoying."

I almost laughed. If I hadn't been so panicked about the situation, I might have. Quickly I told her what Carla had told me.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "Nothing's changed."

"Everything's changed. She's trying to open the gates of hell and release the Grigori."

"That's her job."

"And it's my job to kill her before she does it." If I actually killed the leader of the darkness rather than one of her minions, everything should go back to normal. Or as normal as it got.

"I thought we'd have more time to replenish the federation," I continued. "More time for Jimmy to get his shit together, but we don't. Bring Jimmy and meet me at Sawyer's; we'll figure this out."

"No," she said. "Jimmy isn't ready. He has to find himself again before he can give himself to the cause."

"There won't be a cause if he doesn't come back!"

"You told me to do anything," she murmured.

"Now I'm telling you to bring him in."

"I won't," Summer said. "I can't."

"I'm going to kill you," I muttered.

"You're going to try." She didn't sound worried. She didn't need to be. To kill her, first I'd have to find her.

"I'll do what I can as quickly as I can," she continued, and I knew that I'd lost. I think I'd known I was going to lose from the beginning.

"Wait," I said desperately, before she hung up. "You know a few DKs, so does Jimmy."

"Yes," she agreed warily.

"Get in touch with them. I need one to watch Megan Murphy in Milwaukee." I told her about the seer's death on my doorstep, and how I feared that others might come and experience the same fate.

"I'll send someone," Summer agreed. "He can take out any lurking Nephilim and inform any seers who show up that they should disappear again."

"Great. If you get in touch with anyone else, have them tell everyone they know and so on."

"A supernatural phone chain," Summer said.

"Right. Maybe I can get things figured out and settled down and we could all have a ... a conference call or something."

Summer snorted. "Sure. That'll happen."

"You think Jimmy might be better in a week or so?"

I heard a vicious snarl from her end of the phone, and Summer sighed. "I wouldn't count on it."

*

I tried again to find them, but I got nowhere, saw nothing. Then I tried to contact Ruthie, but the connection was pretty one-sided.

She came to me when the Nephilim did, or when she had something to say. Obviously the situation with Jimmy didn't warrant a visit. Or maybe she didn't know about it. Maybe Summer had blocked her, too.

I glanced at the clock. I'd been messing around with Summer and Jimmy and my vision for close to two hours. Where in hell was Sawyer?

I'd taken a room at the back of the hotel so he could slip in without notice if he were still on four feet instead of two. Carla had seemed pretty certain whatever she planned to do would work, but I'd learned long ago never to count my chickens. Especially around a wolf.

I heard voices outside. Considering the time, I figured I'd better investigate. Considering the anger I heard in them, I'd better investigate fast.

I opened the door. Sawyer and his mother stood in the parking lot.

He wore athletic shorts and nothing else. I doubted Carla had had much on hand to lend him. His skin glistened beneath the harsh overhead lights.

If the situation had been less dire, I might have paused to admire the view. No matter how I felt about Sawyer, he was a beautiful man. It seemed a crime to have marked that body with so many tattoos. But beneath the ink, the skin was supple, and the muscles rippled and danced.

Beyond the spray of electric lights clouds roiled; the wind kicked up and tossed trash across the parking lot. Sawyer's long, black hair twisted in the breeze, as did his mother's.

"Who did this?" Her voice deceptively quiet, her face was far too still. Behind her, lightning crashed into the ground; the earth shook and the dry grass began to burn.

"Stop that,'* Sawyer ordered, his voice equally calm. A flick of his wrist and rain tumbled down, putting out the fire. As soon as the flames died, the rain did, too.