Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet (22 page)

BOOK: Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet
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I jerked to attention. “Gashes?” The bandages he had at the fights.

“You have no idea what the boy has been up to, do you? He’s grown up. Become quite
the warrior, if his ability to down my soldiers while hardly breaking a sweat is any
indication. But you care for him.” He turned a curious gaze on me. “Perhaps I could
make a deal with you instead.”

“What?” I asked, realizing I was actually negotiating with the devil. Or, at the very
least, one of his minions.

He unfolded a hand and held it out to me, palm up. “Come with me now. Your death will
be quick, and you will rule by my master’s side.”

“Your master? Meaning Satan.”

“That is one colloquialism, yes.”

“Why on all that is holy would I do something like that?”

“Because you have no idea what you’re capable of. What you can do defies everything
you have ever known. But right now, you are just a silly girl running about in an
ape suit. You’ll be so much more powerful when you shed it. You will shine like the
brightest star and you will have just as much power as one.”

Okay, so this guy seemed to know what he was talking about. “Tell me what I’m capable
of.”

He leaned in, his eyes black caverns behind the light brown of the human’s he inhabited.
“Anything you can imagine.”

Again? Really? “Why do you want me so bad? There have been other reapers.”

“But none like you, my dear. We want you, but we need both of you to gain the advantage.
You are so close to doing our jobs for us anyway, we’d just like to be around when
the gate is actually opened.” When I questioned him with my eyes, he asked, “What
do you think happens when the key of darkness is inserted into the locket of light?”

He raked a salacious gaze from the top of my head to the tips of my booted toes. I
felt violated. And repulsed.

“It’s like opening a door directly from hell and straight into the heart of heaven.
How many soldiers do you think can slip through before that door is closed? We just
have to be at the ready when it happens.”

He couldn’t possibly be saying what I thought. “So, you mean if Reyes and I get together?”

“Yes, well, there’s a bit more to it than that, but that’s the basic idea. Why do
you think the master made the son? It wasn’t because he longed for a family, if that’s
what you’re thinking.”

I was starting to feel sick. The acrid smell of him made me dizzy. That combined with
the constant surge of fear had me almost doubled over with nausea. But I didn’t dare
take my eyes off him.

“I’m going to have to turn down your kind offer,” I said, praying he’d leave so I
could run to the bathroom.

“Pity. But I do understand. The human mind is so limited, it’s hard to see past the
rotting flesh of humanity to bigger and better things.” He seemed so civilized, so
educated.

“Is the accent yours?” I asked.

“No, it belongs to the ape I’m wearing. But I like it. I think it suits me.” He rose
and adjusted his tie almost joyously. Then he walked around, bent over, and whispered
in my ear, the acrid smell of him overpowering. “Tell Rey’aziel hello from Hedeshi.”
He straightened and pointed to the coupon book on my table. The one I’d just won.
“That was my gift to you, by the way. A token of my admiration.”

When he turned to walk away, a handful of college kids a couple tables away started
clapping, their faces alight with appreciation. He stopped and offered them a regal
grin. They were applauding as though we’d just given them a theatrical production.
But that’s exactly how it would look from their end. Anyone watching would think we
were actors, probably rehearsing for a performance at the university. How could the
conversation we’d just had been real?

Hedeshi held up a hand in true thespian style and took a bow as I sat dumbfounded.
He bowed again as he left; then all eyes turned toward me. Waiting to see what my
exit would entail. They were about to be very disappointed.

I looked down at the coupon book for a year’s worth of sweet rolls. With shaking legs,
I stood and smiled to our audience, then walked over to Iggy and handed him the book.
Knowing I would never make it to the bathroom, I ran out the back door and almost
emptied the coffee I’d had on the way over onto the pavement as a cat watched me,
her ears twitching in curiosity. Then I took a deep breath, straightened my jacket,
and summoned Angel.

 

12

When I want your opinion,

I’ll remove the duct tape.

—T-SHIRT

After dry-heaving in front of God and beast alike, I started toward my apartment building
on the next block, then remembered I’d left Misery at Pari’s. I had to stop and lean
against something every so often. My hands and knees shook. Even my elbows shook.
And quite possibly my hair follicles. Bile slipped up my throat, and I swallowed it
down in several quick gulps. Trying to calm myself. Trying to collect my wits and
focus.

The moment his name came to mind, Angel appeared. He glanced around and then glared
at me from underneath his bandanna. “How are you doing that? And why are you blue?”

I sipped on the cool air before asking, “Where is he?”

I didn’t have to clarify. Angel knew exactly whom I was talking about, and if anyone
would know where Reyes was, it was him. He’d been keeping tabs on him ever since the
son of public enemy number one got out of prison. I knew it and I knew why. Angel
was hoping Reyes would keep his distance, would stay away from me. Not that he told
me that outright, but I knew enough about Angel’s feelings toward Reyes to know exactly
why he would keep tabs on someone he was so afraid of.

He kicked the rocks at his feet. “Why?” he asked, his disappointment evident.

“Because if you don’t tell me, your mother will never see another penny.”

His expression held a hint of resentment, but I couldn’t help that now. “He’s at the
Paladin Lodge down the street.”

I straightened in surprise. “A hotel? I thought he was living with Elaine Oake.”

“Look, you asked. I told. I have no idea where he’s living. But right now, he’s at
that hotel.”

Fair enough. “Room?”

“One thirty-one.”

“Thank you.”

I dismissed him and started for Misery.

*   *   *

I parked several spaces down from number 131 and hoofed it to Reyes’s room. The hotel
wasn’t horrible. Especially for one that rented by the hour. I’d been to worse. On
a scale of one to five, I’d give it a two-ish, but at least there were no blatant
drug deals going down in the parking lot. Always a good sign.

When I got to the room, the door stood ajar just enough for a stream of evening light
to slash across worn, dark carpet. I drew Margaret and held her with both hands, barrel
pointed to the ground. Like in the movies. If I could actually hit something when
I shot, I’d have felt safer, but at least I looked cool.

“Reyes?” I asked, peeking inside.

When I didn’t get an answer, I nudged the door open with Margaret’s barrel, an act
that only sounded naughty. A ray of light revealed a boot propped on a small table
by a kitchenette. I recognized Reyes’s signature style instantly. His boots were a
combination of ropers and street cycle, and I coveted them horridly.

After glancing around for any other occupants, I stepped cautiously inside. He sat
ensconced in shadows, so I couldn’t see his facial expression to gauge his mood. The
only sentiment wafting off him was pain. Beside his boot on the table sat a bottle
of whiskey and a roll of duct tape. That meant only one thing: He was hurt and probably
hurt bad. Duct tape was Reyes’s answer to stitches. And surgery. He healed so fast—we
both did—that we rarely needed to go to extreme lengths to recover. The exception
for me was when Earl Walker had taken a knife to me. The exception for Reyes was when
a group of demons had gotten ahold of his physical body while his incorporeal one
had been away. And it was a big group. Over two hundred, if I had to guess.

He didn’t move when I repositioned the door where he had it. His heat drifted around
me, warming me, calming me. I was still shaking when I’d parked, but his heat was
like a salve for my nerves.

“Nice room,” I said, glancing around.

The whiskey bottle was half empty, and I wondered if he’d drunk it or used it as an
antiseptic on his wounds. Probably a little of both.

“I thought you were staying with Elaine.”

He spoke at last. “I thought we agreed you’d stay in your apartment.”

“You agreed,” I said, lifting a notepad to inspect it. I couldn’t read the writing.
“With yourself apparently, because I remember refusing to.”

A black jacket lay tossed over a chair, and take-out containers filled the trash cans.
At least he’d been eating.

“Did she kick you out?” I asked.

“She served her purpose.”

Surprised, I asked, “And what purpose would that be?”

“She had connections. I needed those connections to get a trainer for the fights.
I couldn’t get in otherwise.”

The fact that he was just using her should have horrified me, but elation swept through
me with the knowledge. “So you just tossed her aside and moved into a seedy hotel?”

“Something like that.”

I picked at receipts and other notes scattered on the dresser. “I’ve seen her house.
I’m not sure you made a wise decision.”

“Why are you here, Dutch?”

His brusqueness pricked. He was really having issues with me lately. One minute he
wanted to pull me into his arms, and the next he wanted me out of his sight. Fine,
I’d give him the message and leave him to it. I holstered Margaret and said, “Hedeshi
says hello.”

Every emotion in him fled instantly, like he was a roiling ocean growing completely
calm in a matter of seconds.

After a long, drawn-out silence, he asked, “Did he hurt you?”

“No. We had a very nice conversation, in fact. And he helped me win a year’s supply
of sweet rolls, but I gave it to Iggy.”

“What did he say?”

“Oh, you know, he talked about the boys back home, the fact that he wanted to rip
out my jugular and drink my blood, your father’s plan to take over the world.”

He looked to the side in thought. “I knew there had to be someone behind this. It’s
too organized. Too well thought out.”

“Well, he wants you to know if you’ll stop hunting them, they’ll leave me alone, allow
me to die of natural causes.” I scoffed. “Like that’s going to happen.”

I saw him clench and unclench his fists. “They’re liars, Dutch. Each and every one.
They would lie when the truth would sound better. They have no intention of leaving
you alone, no matter what I do.” He took the bottle, and just before downing a swig,
he said, “They want you more than they want their next breath.”

“I figured as much, but why didn’t he just kill me then? Why go through all the theatrics?”

“Hedeshi isn’t stupid,” he said after putting the bottle back. “He knows he can’t
fight your guardian. He has no defense against her. The moment he attacked, she would
have been on him, and he knew it. They will have to attack in a group to get past
Artemis.” His lips softened as he examined me. “He upset you.” It wouldn’t have been
hard for him to pick up on that. Probably the minute I drove into the parking lot.

“Only a little.” When he didn’t say anything, I asked, “You’ve been hunting them?
Is that who hurt you?”

He examined his bandages. “They’re very strong.”

“I could tell. You broke that man’s neck, and he still came after me.” I ran my fingers
along the chipped edge of the dresser I was leaning against. “How is that possible?”

“As long as they’re inside, they make the human body almost indestructible. Once they
vacate that body, it will die if it has been mortally wounded.”

The last time demons had escaped onto this plane, there were hundreds of them. There
was no way Reyes could fight them all, even with Artemis’s help. “Do you know how
many are here?”

“Not many,” he said with a shrug. “And there aren’t that many people who are genuinely
clairvoyant.”

“So, you know who they’re targeting?”

“Yes.”

“And, what? You’re going to kill them all?”

He raked his fingers through his hair, exasperated. “To stop a war between heaven
and hell from spilling out into this world? Yes.”

He had a point, but still. “Reyes, you can’t kill these people.”

“I just need to kill the demons inside, but sometimes the human has to be sacrificed
to obtain that goal.”

“Well, then stop.” I pulled a chair out across from him and sat down. My eyes were
adjusting and I could just make out the sensual line of his lips, the fringe of his
thick lashes, the frame of mussed hair. His wide shoulders were bare, and duct tape
shimmered over one of them and across his abdomen. No bandages. No gauze. Just duct
tape. How sanitary could that be? “You can’t kill innocent people.”

“That man last night wasn’t innocent, if it makes you feel better.”

“Sadly,” I said, curious about what the man had done, “it does, but only a little.”
I rubbed my arms, still fighting off the effects of my encounter with the Englishman.
“What happened?” I asked, nodding toward the tape.

He took the bottle of whiskey again and downed about a third of what was left before
replacing the cap. “I was mugged,” he said after wiping his mouth on the back of a
hand.

As he’d said before, it was doubtful a human could do that to him, but I dropped it.
He was never one to share with the class anyway.

He lifted a gray T-shirt off the back of another chair and pulled it on with great
care. When he settled back, it took a lot for me not to sigh aloud. He looked really
good in gray.

“I thought it was almost impossible for demons to get onto this plane.”

“It is. These are left over from our last encounter.”

A jolt of surprise shot through me. “You mean from when they had you in that basement?”
I had destroyed them then. The light inside me proved a powerful weapon. “There were
more?”

BOOK: Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet
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