Any Given Doomsday (Phoenix Chronicles, #1)

“I’m not most women.”


“I’m coming to understand that. You have more power than any of the others. I’m glad my son insisted on keeping you alive. Of course it has been touch and go a few times over these past few weeks.”

Few weeks?

My gaze shot to the war board, which was awash in a sea of green and yellow.

If I didn’t do something soon, we were finished.





Chapter 39


How many of the people represented by those colored pins had fallen right outside this building because of me? The least I could do was try to even the score.

“Where’s Jimmy?”

“We’ve had a slight change of plans.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. Mostly because I still didn’t have a plan.

“Let me guess,” I said, stalling. “You want to repent, come over to my side. Forget about doomsday. Let’s move right to heaven on earth.”

The Strega laughed. “I am planning for heaven on earth, but my heaven’s a little different from yours.”

“Humans as slaves, Nephilim are legion. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.”

His amusement fled. “I will teach you humility and respect.”

“Good luck with that.”

The Strega grabbed me by the neck and dragged me out of the war room. I struggled to be free, but it was like fighting against an iron collar. I wasn’t going to get away unless he wanted to let me go.

He put his lips right next to my ear. “I’ve got a fascinating entertainment in mind for this evening. You. Jimmy.”

I tensed, figuring he wanted to watch.

“To the death.”

“What?” I managed. “He’s your son.”

“So?”

True. Guys like him usually ate their young. So why hadn’t he?

Because Jimmy had been useful. At his feet could be laid the deaths represented by those colored pins. That he hadn’t known his brain was being picked wasn’t going to matter to the dead.

“The last bit of humanity in him will die with you,” the Strega said. “I’ve been looking forward to it.”

He let me go with a little shove. I whirled, then froze. Jimmy stood right behind him.

“Kill her,” the Strega ordered, and Jimmy smiled. “Whoever’s still alive at the end of this gets to be my second in command.”

“I don’t want to be your freaking second in command, you psychotic bloodsucking witch.”

The Strega’s eyes narrowed. “Then die.”

Shit.

The Strega moved out of the way as Jimmy began to circle.

“Why don’t you kill him?” I asked Jimmy. “I’ll help.”

“I… c-c-” He clenched his fists. Since he wore his usual outfit, loose cotton trousers and nothing else, I caught every ripple of muscle as his biceps bulged. “Can’t.” The word seemed to explode past his lips, as if something had been keeping it prisoner and only supreme strength had forced it free. “Without him I’d be nothing.”

Without him you’d be you, I thought. But too late now.

With an almost nonchalant movement, he backhanded me. I flew off my feet, missing the pile of pillows by inches and landing on the marble tile so hard I could have sworn I heard my bones shatter.

I’d hoped for a better outcome; I’m not sure why. The Strega controlled Jimmy. There was no way Jimmy would be able to break that hold and save us all. I had to accept my failure. I would die here, probably within the next few minutes, and the Strega’s plan for mankind would succeed.

But I wasn’t going to give in without one helluva fight. I wasn’t defenseless. I had Jimmy’s strength and his speed. He just didn’t know it.

Jimmy moved quickly. I saw his shadow coming at me across the ceiling. I lifted my legs, thrilled when they worked without pain, and kicked him in the stomach. He landed on the kitchen table, breaking it into a dozen shards.

I did a kip, from my back to my feet. I’d always been spectacular at them. Jimmy was already up and heading in my direction.

He swung; I ducked and came up with a left hook. He flew again, this time putting a dent in the wall. I started to feel very much like a terminatrix. There was no reason to hide my superior strength and speed any longer. Letting go felt unbelievably good.

Jimmy shook his head as if I’d loosened a few teeth. “How did you—”

I didn’t wait for the question I had no intention of answering. I sprinted toward him and planted a kick right in his chest.

Or at least I tried to. He grabbed my foot and threw me heels over head. I hit the ground right next to the shattered dining room table. He was on me before I got my breath back.

My grasping fingers touched wood. He lunged forward, going for my throat. His eyes flared red; his fangs lengthened. His face was no longer the face of a man but a monster.