Текст книги "Eighth Grave After Dark"

Автор книги: Darynda Jones

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

14

I HAVE COMPLETELY MASTERED THE RIGHT WAY

OF DOING EVERYTHING WRONG.

–T-SHIRT

Garrett, Osh, and I sat around the reassembled kitchen table and gazed down at little Miss Beep. She was trying to decide if she wanted to fuss or catch some Z’s. It was a hard decision for most of us. She made baby sounds. Nothing on earth made sounds like that. They were a ruse. A ploy. A way to get adults to fall in love.

They worked really well.

But the reason our little moppet was lying on the table—on a blanket, of course—was so that we could see the birthmark. Or, more accurately, so that I could show them the birthmark. Barely visible, she had the lines, the map to the gates of hell, marked on her body just like her father.

“How?” I asked no one in particular. “I mean, those were put on Reyes when he was forged in hell. How did they transfer to Beep?”

Nobody answered. It was a fairly rhetorical question anyway.

And Reyes wasn’t there to give his opinion. He’d been pacing outside, but I lost sight of him a while earlier. He was probably off dragging hellhounds around. I bet they hated that. And he was probably still mad at me. So, I went to hell. I’d needed information. That was the quickest way to get it. The only way to get it. And because of it, we saved a girl’s life. Sure, it was dangerous, but that was my middle names. I’d assumed he was used to that by now. Figured he even liked that about me. Apparently not.

Of course, the thought of a family reunion right here on earth was the most likely culprit of his agitation. Coming face-to-face with one’s evil father after centuries apart was enough to put anyone in a bad mood.

Speaking of bad moods, with all the unwanted attention Beep was getting, even she’d started leaning toward the fussy end of the spectrum, so I wrapped her up like a burrito, warmed up a bottle of breast milk I’d collected earlier, and walked around the house crooning and crowing about this and that. It was like dinner theater.

Uncle Bob had taken Quentin back to school in Santa Fe, and Cookie and Amber left, too. Amber had school in the morning, much to her chagrin, and Cookie wanted to get some shopping done. She’d been cooking quite a bit and bringing it out to us.

I thought about cooking once.

Beep and I walked around the house as she ate, partly to look out the windows in the hopes of seeing her daddy. And partly to work off some nervous tension. I’d hurt him by going to hell, and that was only the half of it. We wandered into the laundry room and I explained the washer and dryer as best I could. I turned on the dryer and put her on it. The vibrations lulled her to sleep again.

“Oh, no you don’t,” I said, picking her back up again. “You have to be burped. If I don’t burp you, I’ll get arrested by the burp police, and then—”

I stopped midsentence. The wall Reyes broke was adjacent to the locked closet door. He must’ve triggered a latching mechanism when he broke the stud, because it stood slightly ajar.

“At last,” I said as we walked to it. “Are we ready for this?” I asked her.

She didn’t reply.

I slid open the heavy door. It creaked along rusted tracks. It was a pocket door, which explained why it hadn’t opened when we pushed on it, but as tall and narrow as it was, it had to be at least three inches thick. I peeked inside and, wow, was I not impressed.

“This is it?” I asked Beep. After fumbling in my pocket for my phone, I turned the flashlight on and took a closer look. It was a tiny round room, dusty and cobwebbed. Nothing special about it. The ceiling formed an arch overhead, so that was almost interesting. But there were no shelves. No nooks for storage. No dead bodies. Nada.

“What on earth is this for?” Finding no light switch, I stepped inside and, only a little fearful we wouldn’t get the door open again as I’d seen how it latched, slid it closed. Then we stood there. Waited. Turned in a circle. Then I opened the door, utterly disappointed.

“Okay, then,” I said, stepping out and giving it another once-over. “This is rather useless in the grand scheme of things.”

I turned to leave and came face-to-face with everyone left in the house. They all stared at us with mouths slightly agape.

“What?” I asked, wiping at my face, then smoothing my hair down. “What?”

“Your light,” Angel said at last. “It completely disappeared when you were in there.”

“Really?” I turned back to give it another once-over. “That’s odd, right?”

Osh stepped to the closet. “You have no idea. Your light is eternal. It’s constant and boundless. Nothing can stop it from being seen from a thousand different planes.”

“I can’t see it,” I said, my hand raised.

“Try it again, but be careful,” he said, suddenly untrusting of the tiny compartment. It did seem a tad ominous. Maybe it was a portal to hell. Or a broom closet. I always felt broom closets were a little shady. Why would a broom need its own closet?

I stepped inside and closed the door again. Then I waited for the signal. Not that we’d decided on one, but surely they’d let me know when they were ready for us to come out. I was beginning to think we’d been punked when I heard a male voice from behind me.

“Hey, pumpkin.”

Goose bumps erupted across my skin as I turned. “Dad!” I yelled, and threw my free arm around his neck.

He laughed and hugged me back, being careful not to squish my package. Then he looked down at said package, his eyes glistening. “My God,” he said, his expression full of pride.

“Dad, how are you here?” I asked.

He sobered and smiled at me. “This is kind of like a safe room. No one from outside can see us in here. They would literally have to come inside this room to hear anything we say, even the departed, and you would see them.”

“Really? This is the coolest room ever. But what happened?”

He smoothed my hair back. “No time for that, pumpkin. If you don’t come out soon, that group out there is likely to rip the door off its hinges.”

“Oh, you’re right. Hold on.”

I cracked open the door. Everyone was still standing in awe.

“I’ll just be a minute.”

Osh grew suspicious. It was like he didn’t trust me.

“Why? What are you doing?”

“Reflecting.”

I closed the door then turned back to my father. I touched his face and his cool skin reminded me exactly what state he was in.

“Now, what happened? Who killed you?”

“First, you have to know, there are spies.”

“I know. I totally busted one. She was living in my closet.”

“There are more.”

I knew that. I’d known for a while. “Duff.”

“Yes.”

“More?”

“A couple on the lawn, I think. It’s like the Cold War here.”

“Wait, are you a spy for the good guys?”

He grinned. “I’m a spy for you, honey. I just had no idea.” He glanced down at Beep again. “I had absolutely no idea.”

“Okay, but really, who killed you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want you involved in any of that. You’re too important. She’s too important.”

“Dad.”

“Charley.”

“Dad.”

“Charley.”

“Dad. And, yes, I can do this all day.” I had taken hold of his arm. “And just so you know, you can’t disappear as long as I’m holding on to you.”

“Really?” he asked, surprised.

I raised my brows.

He turned away, as though unable to look me in the eye. “You know, you always amazed me. From the day you were born, you were different. I knew it, too.”

“Dad,” I repeated. We didn’t have the time for a stroll down memory lane. I wanted to know who had killed my father, and said father was darned sure going to tell me.

“Just give me a sec, hon. You have to understand what happened before.”

“Okay.” I leaned back against the wall and bounced Beep, but didn’t let go of his wrist. I didn’t think I ever could again. I laced my fingers through his and waited for him to say what he had to.

It took him a moment. Tears swelled between his lashes. “Once you started helping me solve crimes, people noticed. They didn’t know about you, of course, but somehow a few of the cops figured out I was getting … outside help. One was dirty. As dirty as they come. He told a businessman whose payroll he was on. As a result, that man became very interested in me.”

“All this from my help solving crimes?”

“Yes. And no.” He lowered his head, completely embarrassed. “You helped in other ways. Ways you were unaware of.”

“Like what?”

“Charley, I wasn’t always– I mean, I made mistakes. I– I got in over my head with a situation.”

This time I lowered my head. “Did it involve the racetrack at Ruidoso Downs?”

“How did you know?”

I shrugged. “You changed after that. When you got home from your camping trip, you were devastated.”

“Ah, yes, you can feel people’s emotions, can’t you?”

I nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Like I wasn’t enough of a freak.”

“Charley, if there is one thing you are not, it’s a freak. But that doesn’t explain how you figured out what happened that weekend.”

“It took me a few years to piece together, but I realized you’d gone to Ruidoso. There’s only three things in Ruidoso: shopping, camping, and gambling. So, what happened?”

He lowered his head once more, embarrassed. “I had what we call in the gambling business a sure thing.”

“But you weren’t a gambler.”

“Normally, no, but I got this tip. The guy said it was all set up.”

“The sure thing.”

“Yes. And I’d seen him win a fortune once based on a similar tip. So, I bet everything.”

“And you lost it all.”

“In the blink of an eye.”

“Then how did you open the bar? I thought you did that with your savings?”

“That’s where you come in. This businessman offered to pay me double what I lost for one name.”

I gasped teasingly. “You used me.”

“Charley, it’s not funny.”

“Right. Sorry. But, Dad, really, it’s not that bad.”

“It is, actually, and it gets worse.”

“Oh,” I said, understanding. “You gave him the name, and now you were indebted to him, only he knew you had a secret weapon.”

“Yes. I led him to believe I had a confidential informant.”

“What happened to the first guy? The first name you gave him?”

He bit down, embarrassed to say. “He was never found,” he said at last.

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

“As you can imagine, I retired soon after. I told him I no longer had access to my CI.”

The gravity hit me. “Dad, he could have killed you.”

A sad smile thinned his lips. “He did, actually.”

That time, I gasped for real. “What happened?”

“He got himself in a bind, needed my informant.”

“And you refused. So, your death was my fault, too. Just like mom’s.”

“Charley, you can’t honestly say that about your mother. Not after what you’ve just been through.”

He was right. Beep was worth the risk that went hand in hand with pregnancy.

“And my death was entirely my fault. I was never perfect.”

“You were in my eyes.” I leaned forward. “And you still are.”

“Charley, I used you for years to advance my career. That doesn’t exactly qualify me for Father of the Year.”

“We work with what we got. Do you think I resent you in any way? I would do the same today. You never placed me in any danger. You caught bad guys that I led you to. We were doing a good thing.”

“Yes, bad guys that I asked you to lead me to. That alone placed you in danger.”

“Do you blame Uncle Bob for what he’s doing? Special Agent Carson? Or her FedEx?”

“No, but you’re older now, hon. It’s different. You know what you’re getting yourself in for most of the time. I just let you advance my career while leaving you completely in the dark as to what was at stake. And then there’s the whole Denise issue.”

“What about her?”

“I should have been harder on her. I shouldn’t have let her treat you that way. But I could sense her fear. She believed, Charley. She always believed in you. For her, that was the problem.”

“Denise and I are finding our way.”

“And I want to thank you for that. You have a bigger heart than people give you credit for.”

“Right?” I said in complete agreement. “Now, who actually pulled the trigger? And who is this businessman?”

“No. And I mean it. Your uncle is closing in, thanks to you and that anonymous tip. You’ve done enough.” He smiled down at the little princess, and a soft squeak sounded.

“Uh-oh,” I said to her, unlacing my hand to pat her mouth with the blanket. “Someone burped.”

“Don’t worry, Beep,” Dad said. “What happens in the closet stays in the closet.”

The door slid open then, and Spanky and the Gang stood in the exact same positions as when I’d closed it.

“We were getting worried,” Angel said.

I turned, but Dad was gone. I could smell him on my clothes and on Beep’s blanket.

Osh stepped inside and turned full circle. “Seriously, what the hell?”

“I don’t know, but we need to have a powwow.”

*   *   *

This time I hunted Denise down and gave her Beep for a while. She was more than happy to take her while Osh and I went hunting.

We went into the office, where it was quieter. No need to alarm Denise.

It didn’t take us long to find him, since I could summon him right to me. I did so and immediately grabbed his wrist so he couldn’t vanish.

“Wh-what’s going on?” Duff asked, his eyes wide behind the glasses.

“How does this work?” I asked him.

“Wh-what?”

“And you can stop stuttering now,” I added. “How does this work? Who do you report to?”

He looked down at his wrist, then back at me. “You don’t know what it’s like down there,” he said, vying for the sympathy angle. “You are burned alive.”

“I know. I visited recently.”

He had the decency to look shocked.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t know that.”

“I haven’t been able to hang around much,” he said, scowling at Angel. “Rey’aziel caught on. Sent the kid to babysit. Can’t turn around without him watching me.”

I turned to Angel. “Is that what all that was about?”

Angel shrugged. “We’re also watching a few more.”

“We?”

“Rey’aziel has a whole army of spies watching other spies.”

“Why didn’t he just tell me?” I asked, appalled. “I thought this was something horrible like you two were trying to figure out which asylum to have me locked in once Beep was born.”

He snickered. “We decided that months ago.”

Garrett walked in then. “Got him,” he said, carrying a tablet. “Duff Newman, executed for killing a woman and her daughter in 1987.”

Osh tsked. “Duff. That’s not very nice.”

Focusing on Duff again, I said, “Once more with feeling. Who do you report to?”

“If I tell you, he’ll send me back.”

“To hell?” I asked. “You’re going back there anyway, sport. It’s hot. You might want to plan for that. Take an ointment.”

Osh spoke up again. “Why let him live at all? I could use dessert.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.” That wolfish grin was back, and Duff tried to jerk out of my grip, suddenly terrified.

“Wait,” I said; then I turned to Angel. “No really, why not just tell me?”

He lowered his head. “You’re too reckless.”

“What?” I asked, completely offended.

“You’re too careless,” he said, unable to meet my gaze. “You risk too much for people you barely know. We couldn’t—”

When he didn’t continue, I finished for him. “Trust me. You couldn’t trust me.”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

“Well, that little decision almost cost me my life, thank you very much.”

“Sorry.”

Fury overrode every other emotion as I marked Duff. One thought was all it took, and the symbol appeared instantly. “He’s all yours,” I said to Osh.

The Daeva walked up to Duff, who decided right then to fight. He managed to slip from my grasp, but Osh had him around the throat in the blink of an eye. He pushed Duff against the wall, the exact same way he had with Sheila.

Osh squeezed Duff’s jaw, doing some Vulcan mind meld thing to get him to be still. He froze as though he could no longer move.

“It’s better than being burned alive,” he told Duff.

Apparently, Duff didn’t agree. He shook his head, fear consuming him. “Not this,” he pleaded, and I couldn’t help but wonder why. I’d been to hell. Why was this worse?

“I wonder if those people you killed said that.”

Before Duff could answer, Osh braced a hand above the wall over Duff’s head, pressed against him like a lover, then covered Duff’s mouth with his own. And while the soul-sucking thing with Sheila had been hot, this was even more so. I felt a warm rush wash over me. It pooled in my abdomen as Osh kept a hand locked around Duff’s throat, his mouth on his. Then he pulled back, just a little, just like before, and the light, a light blue glow, shone between them. Duff splayed his fingers and stared at the ceiling as Osh took everything he had to offer. Slowly, Duff dissipated, cracking and drifting away until there was nothing left.

Osh pressed his forehead against the wall, his chest heaving, his muscles weak, while I stood in a convent, in a house of God, with the most impure thoughts I’d had in a while. Boy-on-boy action.

“I need a shower,” I said, suddenly warm.

Osh glanced over his shoulder at me. “You know what goes well with shish-kebabed Duff?”

“I don’t want to know,” I said as I started for the door.

“Cherry pie,” he called out after me, laughing softly. “Tart cherry pie.”

“Asshole.” He knew how sexy that was. He was freaking doing it on purpose.

After about five seconds in the shower, I started groaning. Out loud. I really did need one, if for no other reason than to work the kinks out of my muscles. I couldn’t help but wonder where Reyes had gone off to. Maybe he was talking to that older couple again. Angel couldn’t have meant the Loehrs. They weren’t that old. Angel made the couple Reyes was talking to sound ancient. And he couldn’t possibly know about the Loehrs. I’d only just found out about them myself, and he’d told me months ago he didn’t want to contact them.

I turned off the water and wrapped a towel around me. Then I did the all-important phone check. No calls. No texts. Probably a good thing.

Hoping Reyes was okay and wondering if he would suck a guy’s soul like Osh so I could watch—because, day-um—I wiped steam off the mirror and was just about to blow-dry my “in bad need of a trim” locks when my phone chimed.

The fact that it could have been Reyes made me a little too enthusiastic. I knocked the phone off the counter and watched as it headed right toward the toilet.

Without blinking, I slowed time, fetched it, then let time bounce back into place.

Being a god definitely had its perks.

Swiping a finger across the screen, I brought up the text and my world fell apart at the seams.

Do not move.

The first line of the text read like it’d been sent by some harmless creep playing a joke. That wasn’t the part that slid the world out from under me.

Do not say anything.

The sender was unknown, a blocked number.

Do not alert your friends to this message.

Dread crept up my spine to settle at the nape of my neck.

Control your emotions or Ms. Kowalski and her daughter die.

Whoever was sending the texts knew enough about me and my friends to know that any spike in emotion could summon the cavalry. Not many people knew that.

But the next text contained an image, and the dread scratching at my neck exploded, awakening every nerve ending in my body as a sharp tingling sensation washed over me. My knees gave beneath me, and I sank onto the side of the bathtub.

They—whoever they were—had Cook and Amber. The picture showed them sitting beside each other in a dark room, a harsh light brightening only their features, their hands tied behind their backs, their mouths gagged, their faces dirty. There was a newspaper in their laps. I didn’t bother trying to make out the date. No one would go to that much trouble without actually having the day’s newspaper.

I couldn’t take my eyes off them. They sat leaning in to each other. While Amber stared blankly into the camera, clearly in shock, Cookie looked up at her abductor, her brows scrunched in fear for her daughter’s life. Her shoulder was in front of Amber as though she were trying to protect her. And then I saw why. The assailant, at least one of them, had a gun. I could barely see it in the upper right corner of the image. And it was pointed straight at Amber’s head.

I covered my mouth with a hand to suppress an astonished sob as another text slipped underneath the picture.

I’m sure we have your attention. Calmly walk out the door, get in your car, and go to the abandoned gas station at the bottom of the mountain, just before the turn off in San Ysidro. If anyone follows you, if you alert anyone to the situation, they are dead. You have ten minutes.

I dragged on my dirty clothes and burst through the door. Speed-walking as normally as possible, I pressed my mouth together hard and forced a smile when I saw Garrett come out of the kitchen.

He slowly made his way to the stairs, pausing to ask, “You okay?”

My keys to Misery, my cherry red Jeep Wrangler, were hanging on a hook by the front door. I hadn’t driven her in eight months, but Garrett made a point to take her to work about twice a month to keep things running smooth. Swallowing hard, I nodded and walked back to the kitchen, waiting for him to ascend the stairs. The minute he was out of sight, I rushed forward, grabbed the keys off the hook, and flew out the front door.

The sun hung low on the horizon as I ran for Misery. I hopped in and started her on one try. Backing out of the drive while trying to seem nonchalant was excruciating, but I didn’t want to alarm anyone, so I took my time. Hopefully, if anyone looked out, they’d think I was just moving my car to a different location. Dying inside. The fear coursing through me was so powerful, I thought I would be sick. Clearly, I was not suppressing my emotions, and yet Reyes was nowhere to be found. He must have been angrier with me than I thought, but even at his angriest, he would never leave me hanging. I couldn’t imagine why he wasn’t materializing beside me, but I was both relieved and concerned.

I raced down the mountain, taking the 25 mph curves at 75.

A motorcycle appeared out of nowhere, the driver waving me to pull over. I ignored him and pressed the gas pedal until it would go no farther.

He pulled ahead of me, missing an oncoming car by inches, and waved again. I stared straight ahead. Was he one of the abductors? Two more motorcycles appeared in my rearview, speeding up behind me. I considered slamming on my brakes to take them out, but I didn’t want to lose the time. It took more than ten minutes to get down the mountain from where we were. I didn’t have a second to spare.

Just as the last curve came into view, the gas station only minutes from there, the motorcycle swerved in front of me. My reflexes took over. I jerked Misery to the right and didn’t have enough space to fix the overcorrection. I went headfirst into a shallow ravine, bouncing over the bumpy drop until crashing to a stop at the bottom. I flew forward, my seat belt biting into my shoulder as my head hit the steering wheel.

Then someone was knocking on the window, jerking on the door handle. I tried to restart Misery, to no avail.

“Charley, damn it!”

I finally turned and saw Donovan. Biker Donovan. My Donovan. It didn’t make sense. Why would he be here? I looked back at the other two, and sure enough, his sidekicks, Eric and Michael, were also with him. They had lived beside the abandoned asylum Rocket grew up in. Artemis, my guardian Rottweiler, had originally been Donovan’s. He’d led a rough life—most bikers did—but he had a heart of gold. If not for that whole bank-robbing gig, he would still have been in my life in one form or another.

“Move!” he shouted through my window a split second before he drove a leather-clad elbow through it. He reached in, unlocked the door, and dragged me out of Misery kicking and screaming. Eric, the one I’d always referred to as the Greek prince, was right there, helping him.

“What are you doing?” I yelled, pushing them off me once I’d gained my footing. “I have to go! They have Cookie and Amber!”

Donovan held his palms toward me, gesturing for me to calm down. “Who has them?”

My phone rang before I could come back with a biting reply. I pulled it out of my pocket, my hands shaking uncontrollably. It was from Cookie’s number.

“Cookie!” I screamed, pressing a palm against Misery for support. “What happened? What do they want?”

“Charley, what are you talking about? What’s wrong? Is Beep okay? Oh my God, did something happen to Beep?”

“No, what? Where are you? You’ve been abducted. You and Amber.”

“What?” Cookie screeched. She dropped the phone, and I heard footsteps, a frantic voice, then more footsteps. “Charley, damn it,” she said when she picked up the phone again, panting. “If this is a joke—”

“Cook, you haven’t been abducted? You’re– You’re okay?”

“Of course we’re okay.”

“Amber’s okay?”

“She’s right here. We were just about to head out there. I was calling to see if you needed anything before we left Albuquerque.”

I fell to my knees in relief. “Why did you pose for that picture?” I screamed at her. “What kind of sadist are you?”

“Charley, you’re scaring me.”

“Join the club. That was a horrible picture. And you had red eye in it.”

“Honey, what picture are you talking about?”

Donovan was right beside me. He lowered himself onto one knee and kept a hand on my back.

“What’s going on?” she asked, but I looked up at Donovan.

Donovan!

Donovan?

I blinked, knowing in the back of my mind that my mouth sat agape. Which couldn’t be flattering. “What are you doing here?” I brought the trio surrounding me into focus.

Eric stood beside us, his lean frame at the ready.

Michael stood back as usual, coolness wafting off him as he rested against his Harley, arms crossed over his chest, an amused smirk on his face. “Still causing hell, I see.”

I scrambled to my feet, then threw my arms around Donovan’s neck. He lifted me off the ground and hugged me tight.

“What are all of you doing here?” I asked when he set me back down. “You’re wanted men. You can’t be here.”

Eric nodded. “That’s what we tried to tell that guy. Nobody listens to us.”

I shook my head, trying to absorb a thousand layers of information at once. “What guy?”

Donovan grinned. “That man of yours, sugar. We’ve been holed up across the road from you, keeping watch.”

“Reyes? Reyes asked you to come? Why? And keeping watch for what?”

“This,” Michael said, smirk firmly in place. “Said you have a habit of running off when you shouldn’t. Seems he was right.”

I was so flabbergasted, I didn’t even know how to respond. Why would Reyes bring these guys here? He knew I had a weak spot in my heart for them. A really weak spot. As in, Donovan-was-an-incredible-kisser weak spot.

Then something a tad more important hit me. Cookie and Amber hadn’t been taken. Someone wanted me off the grounds, the sacred grounds. They wanted me dead. I whirled around, watching the road from where I’d just come, waiting for the sounds of paws tearing through the forest. For the sound of snarls and teeth gnashing as they drove closer and closer to the kill. Because I finally remembered why I was not to leave the convent. But the only sound I heard was the breeze whispering through the trees. A bird calling out overhead.

Slowly, realization dawned. There was a reason the Twelve didn’t follow me. They were going after Beep. My hand flew over my mouth, and a paralyzing fear gripped me.

“Sweetheart,” Donovan said, trying to coax me back to him.

“I have to go back. Now!” I started for Misery, but Donovan tucked an arm around my waist and hauled me toward his bike. “I’ll take you. We’ll come back for your Jeep later.”

“Yes. Yes, good idea.” I hopped on the back of Donovan’s Harley and wrapped my arms around him. “Please, drive fast,” I said before he brought Odin, his Harley, to life with a roar.

“My favorite way to drive!” he yelled back to me. Only after we started back did I realize I’d left Cookie hanging on the phone, probably frantic. And my phone lay somewhere between here and there.