Doomsday Can Wait (Phoenix Chronicles, #2)

I glanced at Sawyer. "Can you do something?"

"I've exhausted the magical options," he said. "Saint-John's-wort allowed us to see this place." He held up a hand before I could speak. "And I used all I had to get that far."

So he couldn't make the cavernous gray prison revert to whatever it really was.

"What's up with that?" I lifted my chin to indicate the tiny green plant still stuck in Summer's hair.

"A four-leaf clover blocks her influence."

"She can't sway anyone with her 'make me' dust while she's wearing that?"

"Exactly."

"She can't just yank it out?"

Sawyer gave me a withering glare. "Please," he murmured.

As if to illustrate, Summer swiped at the clover, then hissed in pain as if the thing were embedded in her skull along with her hair.

"I have to remove it," Sawyer said. He lifted a brow at Summer. "So you'd better be nice."

She gave him the finger, too. She'd really been hanging out with me way too much.

"If you're blocking her influence, why is this place such a maze?" I lifted my gaze. The prison had continued to grow—hall upon hall, stairway beyond stairway.

"We're talking two different things—innate magic and spells. Clover, for one—" He swept his hand out, empty palm up.

"Saint-John's-wort, which you're out of, for the other." Sawyer nodded. "Why are you carrying these things in the first place?"

"There are a lot of fairies, Phoenix, and I'm rarely merciful."

I glanced at Summer, who was too busy trying to pick the clover out of her hair to comment. She was going to snatch herself bald if she didn't knock it off.

"Where do you stock up on antifairy meds?"

"Wal-Mart," he said simply.

"I can understand the Saint-John's-wort"—it was an herb used for a lot of ailments—"but the four-leaf clover? I doubt they carry them."

"The benandanti did," he said simply.

That made Summer pause. "The benandanti is dead."

"What was that?" Sawyer's voice betrayed no emotion beyond mild curiosity.

"She went to the underworld to fight the Grigori. And she lost."

"So they're free?" I asked.

"Not yet. I assume there are more steps involved."

I glanced at Sawyer.

"I don't know what they are," he said.

That hadn't been why I was looking at him. I thought maybe he'd be upset, at least a little, that a woman he'd recently slept with was dead. The way Sawyer was behaving, you'd never even know they'd met.

I thought of Carla as I'd seen her last—young and strong again thanks to Sawyer. Nevertheless she'd lost the fight and we'd moved one step closer to Armageddon's Apocalypse.

"I need to see Jimmy," I blurted.

"Good luck with that." Summer indicated the still-multiplying cool gray corridors and the ever-increasing stairway to heaven.

I grabbed her by the arms, planning to shake her until the truth rattled out along with her teeth, but as soon as I touched her, I saw the path that led to the single cell-like room that housed Jimmy.



Touch something he did. Worked nearly every time.

I ran down the nearest hall. Summer followed, keeping up admirably well considering my dhampir speed. But then she could fly, and did, hovering above me, chattering like a damned squirrel as she continued to try and convince me that I shouldn't do this.

"He's better," she said. "He won't do what you want."

I didn't point out that if that were true, he wouldn't be locked up, and she wouldn't be working so hard to keep me from finding him.

I reached the golden door—how obvious was that?— and Summer's feet touched the floor just as Sawyer caught up.

No doorknob, no latch, no way to open the thing that I could see. I glanced at Summer, who lifted a brow and crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn't going to open it, and I couldn't make her.

I studied what appeared to be a solid-gold structure, as thick as any bank vault. Obviously she'd bespelled the thing somehow. I placed my palm on Summer's head, hoping for a clue, but she was ready for me this time, and all I got was a blast of her and Jimmy rolling in the sheets.

I snatched my hand back as she smirked. I was pretty certain that had been recent.

"Those who peek into heads uninvited deserve whatever they see," she said. "You told me to do anything."

I hadn't told her to do him, but—I shrugged. Whatever worked. I couldn't throw stones at that glass house.

I returned my attention to the door, knocked and called, "Jimmy?"

My answer was a snarl that wasn't even close to human, then something slammed into the other side so hard the entire building shuddered.

I lifted my gaze to Summer's. "You call that better?"

"I did a spell," she admitted. "It subverts the vampire."

I tilted my head, remembering the term from my dream walk. "Subverts how?"

"Channels the demon." Summer lifted her hands, pressing them together as if making a snowball. "He fights and fights—"

"Which means the demon gets stronger and stronger because he won't let it free," Sawyer said. "It's like damming up a creek. The water's got to go somewhere."