“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.”