Eighth Grave After Dark (29 page)

“I knew I wasn't in any danger.”

He was in front of me at once. He dug a hand into my hair, his actions almost cruel. “You are a fool if you actually believe that.”

I raised my chin. His opinion of me, of what I did, was a little more than I wanted to bear sometimes. “You keep telling me I'm a god. Why, if that's true, would I be in any danger?”

He let go and stepped back, and I understood.

“I wasn't in danger, but my body was. Is that it? If I accidentally brought one of those demons back with me and it killed my corporeal body, you think I will leave.”

“I don't think, Dutch. I know. You'll have no choice. But it wasn't just that.”

“Then what? I truly want to understand.”

He bit down, welding his teeth together as he tried to explain. “I didn't want you to see … my world. I never wanted you to see where I came from. And I damned sure didn't want you to see me in that place. To see the monster.”

How ridiculous and vulnerable he could be over the craziest things. I wanted to kick him. But mostly I wanted to rip off his clothes because that was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. Reyes walking through smoke and ash, literally made of fire, his body startlingly powerful, his allure breathtaking.

His lids narrowed as he tried to read my emotions. Or maybe he'd already read them and thought he misunderstood. Stepping closer, braced both hands on the wall beside my head. Then he bent until his mouth was inches from mine. “You really are a god,” he said, in awe of me when he had no idea the depths of my astonishment, of my awe of him.

“And you really were created in the fires of sin.”

“You're repulsed?”

“Oh yes,” I said, curling my fingers into the hem of his shirt and coaxing him closer. “Completely.”

His reaction spoke volumes. He'd actually expected me to be disgusted. As if. Did he truly not understand the measure of his magnetism?

He warred with what to do next. He wanted to be furious. He wanted to rant and rave. But I could think of much better things to do.

Almost reluctantly, he looked to the side. “It's coming.”

Time. He meant time was about to bounce back. Even a seasoned expert like Reyes could hold it for only so long.

My reaction to his world had thrown him. He glanced at each of the faces around us, then dropped his hands and strode out of the small room. I wanted to call him back. Mostly because I was in love with him beyond my wildest imaginings and I hated,
hated,
to see him in pain. But partly because in all the upheaval, I forgot to tell him something I'd learned while in his world: Lucifer was no longer in hell. He was here. He was on earth.

*   *   *

Cookie and I called Kit the moment I came to my senses. We sat in my office, then stood, then paced, each of us taking turns holding Beep. Agent Waters had argued with me at first. Furious Kit was wasting her time with me, he informed me every chance he got that they'd already gone through the house with a fine-toothed comb. I told him to quit being an ass and go save his niece.

The house was in Bernalillo and they were in Albuquerque, so Kit sent a squad car over there while they rushed that way. Cookie and I waited with bated breath. Gemma came in and waited with us. Then Denise took Beep to change her and brought her back. Still no call.

When the pediatrician arrived for the checkup, I was grateful for the distraction. We went upstairs and he asked over a thousand questions. Thankfully, Denise stuck around to help.

Reyes walked in, his expression sheepish yet stubborn after his brusque exodus earlier, and we watched as the doctor stripped her down—Beep, not Denise—for the checkup, and while she didn't like being naked one bit, it gave me a chance to look her over, too. I counted her toes and kissed the bottoms of her feet while Reyes tested the fine layer of hair that covered her body. We both marveled once again at how perfect she was.

“How strange,” the doctor said in a thick Middle Eastern accent, and we both snapped to attention at his observation.

“What?” Reyes asked, his tone sharp.

“Oh, there's nothing to be concerned about yet, but this little sweetheart has dextrocardia.”

I gasped. “Is it serious?”

“No,” he said with a soft chuckle. “It simply means her heart is on the right side of her chest.”

Right. I knew that; he just took me by surprise.

“I've never actually seen it.” He poked around a little more aggressively, thoroughly perturbing his patient. “And it looks like all of her organs could be a mirror image. I'll have to order some tests to be sure.”

“But she's okay?”

“Sure seems to be. We'll know for certain when you bring her in. How does tomorrow morning look?”

We both stood there, unsure of what to say.

“Tomorrow morning is great,” Denise said for us.

“And she has a very unusual birthmark.”

“Birthmark?” I asked, peering closer.

He used the light from his otoscope to examine a mark on Beep's left shoulder. “It's very light. I've never seen anything like it.”

I had nothing. Both Reyes and I stood staring down at our daughter. So light, they were almost invisible to the naked eye were the tiny curves and lines that made up Reyes's tattoo. The map to the gates of hell. The key to Hades.

“Gosh, that is strange,” I said, stunned.

“But everything checks out A-OK. You had a good midwife,” he said. “I'll just need a sample of her blood, and I'll get out of your hair.”

“You need my midwife's blood?”

“A sense of humor. That's good. You're getting around well, I see.”

“Oh yeah, I'm a fast healer.”

“Good. Good to know. My office will contact you with the results of the blood test, but I'm sure she's fine. Healthy, strong lungs, good heartbeat even if it is on the other side of her chest. I'll have my staff dig up some literature for you. It will be there when you arrive tomorrow.” He took out a blood-collecting kit with a lancet and a small glass vial. “Just call my office around nine. Peggy will let you know when to bring her in.”

“Thank you,” I said, still taken aback by the markings.

The doctor took some blood from Beep's heel. And I thought she'd been pissed before. The minute he was finished, I wrapped her up and offered her a bottle. She'd had to be given one since I was out so long, and I didn't feel now was the time to try to switch her to a diet of Danger and Will Robinson. Maybe when she was a little less agitated.

After we bade the doctor adieu, I turned and gaped at Reyes. “How—? Why—?”

“I don't know,” he said, indicating Denise with a nod.

“Right,” I said under my breath. That would have to wait. For the moment, I satisfied myself with grilling Denise on dextrocardia.

“It only means there's a higher chance that she will have a congenital defect,” she said. “Dextrocardia is, by definition, a congenital defect, but it doesn't mean there is anything wrong with her. Everything so far checks out perfectly normal. She just needs to be tested to be sure.”

“Denise,” I said as we headed back downstairs, “we can't. I told you.” I looked at Reyes. Watched as concern hardened the lines of his face. “What do we do?”

“I don't know yet,” he said.

“I'll take her in,” Denise said.

I stopped on the stairs and looked up at her, as she was a couple of steps behind me. “Denise, Beep is in as much danger from the beasts I told you about as we are.” After all, the prophecies that foretold of Lucifer's downfall were about Beep. She was his main threat. Not me. Not Reyes.

“Why—?” she began, then stopped herself. “Charley, she has to be tested. Dextrocardia raises her chances of other complications dramatically. We can't just—”

“We'll figure it out,” Reyes said, ushering me down the stairs. But I could tell he was as worried as I.

When we got to the bottom, I took him aside as quickly as I could and said, “I meant to tell you, I found out something while I was … you know.”

He bristled at the reminder of my trip to his hometown.

“Your dad isn't home.”

After waiting for Denise to pass, he asked, “Then where is he?”

“From what I gathered, he's here.”

It took a few seconds for him to respond. “If he's on this plane, we need to move quickly.”

“We can't leave yet. Beep needs to be tested first. She could have a serious medical condition, and that's something we'll need to know no matter where we go.”

He lowered his voice even further. “If they find her, it won't matter how healthy she is. She'll be dead before they can run a single test.”

“Then they can't find her,” I said, imploring him.

*   *   *

Before the hour was up, I was back to pacing. I couldn't sit still. Couldn't stop worrying about the tests Beep needed. Couldn't stop marveling at the map imprinted beneath her skin. Couldn't stop hoping they'd find Faris. Reyes paced, too, only he did it outside, his mind racing for a solution. Unless he planned on buying all the equipment the doctor would need, we would have to take Beep in for tests. We had no choice. Our escape-to-an-island-paradise plan would have to wait.

The phone rang at last and I lunged for it.

“She's alive!” Kit said before I even said hello.

I gave Cookie a thumbs-up and she rose out of her chair in elation—carefully, as she was holding Beep.

“Just barely, but we'll take it. Charley,” she said, her voice cracking. “I just— I don't know where to begin. Jonny is very … appreciative of your help. We both are.”

“Tell him it was my pleasure. And by the way, you realize he's still in love with you, right?”

The phone went silent for a moment before she spoke again. “He— He was never in love with me.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

“Charley, I—”

“Celebrate. Take him to dinner tomorrow to celebrate finding his niece. If ever there was a reason … See where it goes from there.”

“He'll be celebrating with his family, I'm sure.”

“And you are a part of it.”

“I have to know. How?”

Though I knew what she was talking about, I said, “That's a mighty broad question.”

“How did you know where she would be?”

“I promise to tell you someday. But today, it's kind of a tender subject around these parts.”

“I'm sorry, hold on. What?” she said, speaking to someone else. “Okay, I have to go, Charley. Thank you again.”

“My pleasure. Give her a hug for me. And just so you know, he didn't—She wasn't violated. Not in that way.”

A relieved sigh, then, “Thank you.”

“Oh, one more thing. There's something about Faris's birthday and the girl he killed while he was in high school. Some kind of connection.” After a moment of silence, I said, “Kit?”

“Charley, how did you know?” she asked.

“Know what?” I asked, suddenly intrigued.

“Faris was born the same day Olivia Dern went missing. The exact same day.”

“That's what he meant. He took that as a sign that—”

“Who?” she asked.

Since Colton Ellix died two days ago, I couldn't exactly tell her the truth. Not yet, anyway. “My … gardener.”

After another moment of silence, she said, “One of these days, you are going to tell me everything.”

“Okeydokey. Go. Celebrate.”

I hung up, then almost collapsed onto the couch we'd stuffed into the corner for just such occasions.

“Charley,” Cookie said, “you realize you have to tell me everything. And I do mean everything.”

“You sound like Kit.”

“Charley Davidson—”

“I will. I promise. Once I absorb it all myself, I'll tell you. I don't know if you'll believe it or not, though.”

“I've seen too much not to.” She turned her attention to Beep. “Yes, I have,” she said in an animated voice. “I've seen enough to make a grown man wet himself. And they don't wear diapers like you do.”

I couldn't wait to tell her about the
birthmark
. That'd keep her up at night.

 

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.