CHAPTER 19
He went for my wrist and not my neck. The dog collar was good for more than decoration and keeping my demon on a leash. It protected my jugular from out-of-control vamps. Lucky me.
Perhaps I should have Summer bespell one of those black leather collars with spikes. That would work even better, and in truth, this bejeweled poodley thing was just embarrassing.
Jimmy latched onto the vein in my wrist and without thinking I reached over with my free hand and smacked him upside the head. I didn’t pull my punch—why would I?—and he flew a few feet. Unfortunately, he took some of my arm with him.
Blood arced through the air, decorating the dirt between where I stood and where he fell. I had an instant to wish I’d knocked him into next week, or at least into the wall, before he started to laugh.
The blood dripping down my hand, off the tips of my fingers and into the ground slowed from a torrent to a drip. A quick glance at the wound revealed it had begun to close, but not with the usual creepy speed, the skin growing back together between one blink and the next. Wounds made by a Nephilim always took longer to heal, and right now Jimmy was one of the bad guys.
I returned my gaze to Jimmy as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing red from his chin to his cheek. Wow. Attractive.
“The Dagda did what I asked,” I said.
“Did you think he wouldn’t?” Jimmy climbed to his feet, no worse for a knock in the head. If he’d been human, I’d have rattled his brains. He might not have gotten back up. Too bad he’d never been human. “You’re queen of the world, Elizabeth.”
My mouth tightened. He knew I hated it when he called me Elizabeth, but protesting would only encourage him to do it more. Besides, did I really want him calling me Lizzy or baby in that mocking evil voice?
Hell no.
“Not queen,” I murmured, my gaze darting left, then right, hoping to catch a glimpse of a bracelet, a ring, another collar, any item the Dagda might have bespelled to control this thing. Except—
Jimmy, when he was Jimmy, would never have taken it off.
“Leader, ruler, blah, blah, blah.” Jimmy lifted one hand to his chest and rubbed my blood into his skin. I looked away again. I hated him like this.
So what, exactly, did it mean that Jimmy was evil and there was no trace of a control? No trace of the Dagda either for that matter.
“Fuck.”
Jimmy grinned and licked his lips. I caught a hint of fang. “I love it when you talk dirty. Do it some more.”
If Jimmy had killed the fairy god before he’d created a leash we had more problems than . . . Well, just about anything.
“Where’s the Dagda?” I demanded.
“You think I . . .”—he skimmed his hand over his belly, leaving another trail of red—“have more power than a fairy god?”
“Yes.”
He laughed again. I’d always despised his vampire laugh. Cold, with not an ounce of humor, mocking and—okay, I’ll admit it—downright scary. That laugh made me want to put my hands over my ears and shriek until he stopped.
“You know I don’t have that much juice, Elizabeth. But you might.”
My eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“You want all his power on top of your own? Baby—”
“Shut up,” I snapped, unable to stop myself. “Don’t call me that.”
“Because he does?”
I blinked. This was the first time I could remember him referring to Dhampir Jimmy as a separate entity from Vampire Jimmy. Myself, I had to agree. They were two different beings. But when Jimmy had been evil before, he’d been completely evil, with no hint of the man who was not. In fact, when I’d tried to seduce the old Jimmy free by bringing up happy memories of our pasts, the new one had hurt me until I stopped.
“Why the seduction?” I asked. I’d had a good reason. He didn’t.
“I get bored with always taking what I want. Sometimes it’s fun to make them want me.”
“Them?”
“Women. Or men. Depends on my mood.”
Jimmy the vampire liked sex—any way, any time, with anyone. How could I have forgotten?
Because I’d tried to forget—that and everything else about this version of Sanducci.
“Getting back to my plan,” he continued. “You fuck the Dagda—I’ll watch.” He winked. “I’ve always wanted to see you in action, but it’s a little hard when you’re on top of me. Actually”—he grabbed himself like Michael Jackson on a Thriller reunion tour—“it’s a lot hard when you’re on top of me.”
Vampire humor. Gotta hate it.
“Once you absorb his power, I’ll kill him”—he shrugged—“or you can. We’ll toss that stupid collar of yours into the fire and then—” He flipped his hands over in a voilà gesture that would have been more nonchalant if a few drops of blood hadn’t flown free. “Together we’ll rule every world that there is.”
“Let me ask you something.” Jimmy lifted his eyebrows as I strode closer, then I knocked on his forehead with my knuckle. “Are there more voices in there than two? Is one of them named Samyaza?”
“You think I’m the Antichrist? No, baby.” He rolled his eyes when I snarled. “I think that might be you.”
“Me?” I squeaked.
“You didn’t guess?”
“Huh?” Why was I always three steps behind? Sure, I’d been a little lax when it came to listening in church, but still—I was the leader of the light. Why didn’t I know anything?
“The destroyer, the beast—whatever they’re calling him these days—possesses the one who releases him.”
“So?”
“The Grigori flew free when you killed the woman of smoke.”
According to Ruthie, they’d already been freed and not by me. But I should see where he was going with this, find out what Vampire Jimmy knew.
“Again I say, so?”
“It must have been something you did.”
“Got me.” He tilted his head, and one dark lock fell over his black and red eyes. The gesture was so Jimmy. The eyes were so not. “You been hearing any whispers in there?” He smirked as he repeated my own question back at me. “Are there more voices in there than two?”
“Enough.” I turned away before he could see the truth. He’d scared me. “Where’s the Dagda, Jimmy? Don’t make me beat it out of you.”
“You’d enjoy that.”
“I would.” I took a deep breath and faced him again. He was so close my breasts brushed his chest, and as usual, I’d never heard him move. I slammed the heels of my hands against him. “Back off.”
He must have been prepared for that reaction, because he didn’t move an inch. Instead his gaze lowered to what I first thought were my breasts, then realized was my neck. More specifically, my collar.
“I could take that off,” he whispered. “You and me, together, we could do some damage.”
I stepped out of his reach. “I think that’s what Ruthie has in mind. You and me. Doing some damage.”
His lip lifted, like a dog, except dogs didn’t have such pointy fangs. “I don’t take orders well. Even when I’m Stupid Jimmy.”
“Stupid?” Sanducci was a lot of things, but stupid had never been one of them.
“Wimpy, whiny. Everything this one—he slammed his palms against his chest with a solid thunk—“isn’t.”
“Keep that up and you’ll break some ribs,” I said.
His snarl became a smirk. “Worried?”
“No, I’d just rather do it myself.”
The screaming, which had continued in the background all this time, suddenly stopped.
“What was that?” I murmured.
I jolted. “What?”
“He likes it when they scream.”
“And you think I’m going to do that guy just to get his magic?”
His eyes when they met mine were more black than red, and when he spoke I heard the old Jimmy far more than I liked. “Sooner or later you’ll have to sleep with someone just for their power.”
“Maybe. But I’ll choose later and someone else.”
The red flared brighter. “I don’t think you get to choose.”
“You certainly don’t.”
I thought he might attack, and I wanted him to. Right then nothing would have made me happier than beating the ever-loving crap out of Sanducci.
“He will kill you, light’s leader.”
I whirled at the soft-voiced comment. The Dagda had slipped into the cave and now seemed to fill every inch of spare space. No wonder his women screamed. He was huge all over.
I yanked my gaze from the Frisbee-sized metal that covered his privates. “I’m not that easy.”
The Dagda’s ruby lips curved. “With this around your neck . . .” He reached out, his long, long arm stretching farther than I’d have believed possible, and drew a finger along my collar. “You are yet human. He is not.”
“I could beat him.”
“But you wouldn’t kill him, because you need him for the coming fight. And that weakness would be your undoing.”
“I can’t take him anywhere like this.” I inched back, removing my neck from the Dagda’s touch.
“No.” The Dagda let his arm fall to his side. “Which is why I made you a gift.” He held up a thin, circular piece of metal.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Bespelled,” the Dagda hedged. “When Sanducci wears it, he will again be . . . as human as he gets.”
I held out my hand, and the Dagda dropped the circlet into my palm. It was bigger than a ring, smaller than a necklace.
Frowning, I glanced from the metal to Jimmy’s biceps, then his wrist. Still not gonna fit.
“Where—?” I began, and then suddenly I knew.
The thing tumbled to the ground. Here, in the cave, the mist was absent and the earth was actually earth. The circlet hit with a tinny clank and lay still.
“That’s . . . That’s . . .” I couldn’t finish the sentence because I wasn’t certain of the term, though I knew very well what something that size would fit. I’d had my hands—among other body parts—around it often enough.
“A cock ring,” Sanducci muttered.
Even though I’d known what it was, the words shocked me. I might be a sexual empath, but that didn’t mean I had much sex. In truth I’d had very little. No telling what I might “catch” if I wasn’t careful. Unfortunately, for me, there were things much worse than an STD.
“Was that really necessary?” I asked.
Jimmy and the Dagda glanced at me in confusion. I wasn’t sure who I was addressing either. Jimmy for saying the words or the Dagda for creating the borderline-obscene control?
“What would you have me do?” the Dagda answered. “This will be hidden, not easy to remove unless removal is what is desired.”
I’d certainly have preferred a less visible means of control myself, but considering this—I frowned at the circlet, which still lay in the dirt, the reflections from the fire casting red, orange and yellow sparkles across the stone walls—I’d stick with what I had. No telling what the Dagda might come up with for me if he put his mind to it.
“I’m not wearing that,” Jimmy said.
“I can bespell something else,” the Dagda offered. “But it would take time. I’d have to wait for another sacrifice.”
I stilled. “Sacrifice?”
“For the spell.”
“Tell me you’re talking goat. Pig. Chicken.”
Jimmy’s annoying laughter swirled around the cave once more.
The Dagda’s brow creased. “What good would an animal do? For a spell of this magnitude, the blood of the innocent is needed.”
“Goats are innocent.”
“The blood must be freely given and not taken. A sacrifice,” he said slowly, as if I was dim-witted, which I guess I was.
I whirled on Jimmy, who was still laughing. “Is that what Summer did? To this?” I patted my collar, my fingernails clicking against the glittering, glass jewels like rain on a tin rooftop.
“Of course.” He smirked. “Though it was a little hard to find innocent blood at the time.”
“What did she do?” I demanded.
I had visions of Summer and Sawyer creeping into a sleeping Navajo village and stealing away a sweet-faced cherub or a nubile virgin.
“You’ll have to ask her,” Jimmy said. “I was . . . indisposed.”
Oh, yeah. He’d been screaming at the top of his lungs and throwing himself against the golden door of his prison like a lunatic.
“Your women.” I turned back to the fairy god. “They give themselves freely?”
His lips curved into a seductive smile. “Wouldn’t you?”
“Not so much.”
The smile froze. “I bring joy beyond compare. I am very good at my job.”
“You’re killing women with sex.”
“What?” he roared. “Who says this thing?”
I glanced at Jimmy, and the Dagda took a step toward him. “Whoa!” I put up my hand. “You said it yourself. As much fun as it would be to kill him, he’s needed.”
The Dagda blew air out his nose like an enraged bull, causing a puff of dirt to swirl across his feet. “I kill no one. They scream with pleasure, not pain. They give themselves; I do not take.”
“Unlike some people,” I murmured, narrowing my eyes at Jimmy, who smirked and shrugged.
Asshole.
“These women,” I continued. “They’re human?” The Dagda nodded. “And they sacrifice themselves why?”
“For gain.”
“Money? Power? Love?”
“Yes.”
“How do they know about you?”
“Some still follow the ancient ways. Not many, not anymore, which is why it may take a while for me to bespell another item.” He leaned down and picked up the ring, twirling it around his finger as he straightened.
I thought of the Phoenix rising toward the sun, carrying the Key of Solomon Lord knew where, to do Satan knew what.
“No.” I plucked the ring off the Dagda’s finger. “We don’t really have any time to waste.”
“Fuck,” Jimmy muttered as I turned. His eyes flared red and he showed me his fangs. “I’m not gonna let you put that on me.”
“I’d be disappointed if you did.” I glanced at the Dagda. “Wanna hold him down?”
The fairy god’s gaze remained on Jimmy. “I thought you’d never ask.”