Eighth Grave After Dark (3 page)

The communal shower was down the hall, a rustic imitation of my shower at home. And the thought of him in it, with steaming hot water cascading over his shoulders, down the curve of his back, sent a tiny shiver through my body. “Do what? Keep my hands off him?”

“No. Well, yes, but also keep your composure around him.” She sat against the windowsill. “I'm not supernatural or anything, but even I can feel his power. His … allure. Does that make sense?”

“Damn straight it does.”

“There's just something so primal about him. So ethereal.”

“And?” I ventured. Cookie didn't usually say much without an ulterior motive.

“I worry about him. About him being a dad.”

Surprised, I stopped and straightened my shoulders. “What do you mean?” Then, as a possible explanation sank in, I felt my eyes widen. “Do you think he'll be a bad father?” I turned and looked toward the door to make sure he'd left.

“No,” she said with a soft chuckle. “I'm afraid he will sever the spine of any boy who breaks our girl's heart.”

“Oh,” I said, relief flooding me. But she had an incredibly well thought-out point. “Oh. You're right. I didn't think of that.”

“You might want to discuss dating guidelines with him now. You know, before she turns five.”

“Five?” I screeched. “Why five?”

The smile that spread across her face was one of practiced stoicism, as though she were talking to a mental patient. “And just when did you become interested in boys?”

“Oh, shit.”

“Exactly.”

 

2

IRONY: THE OPPOSITE OF WRINKLY.

—T-SHIRT

Two hours later, a wonderful woman named Hildie was doing Cookie's hair—thankfully, because I had no idea what to do with it—Amber was reading nursery rhymes to Beep, and I was eating strawberries atop my lofty position on a very swank divan named David Beckham. David sat by the window so I could look out at all the colors of autumn. He was thoughtful that way. He knew how much I loved fall, and fall in the Jemez Mountains was nothing short of spectacular.

“Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,” Amber said, reading from a picture book she'd bought Beep. She glanced at my belly as though to check if Beep were paying attention.

“Humpty didn't have much of a life, did he?” I commented.

“Humpty Dumpty had a great fall,” she continued, ignoring me. It was weird.

“Lack of exercise. No hand–eye coordination.”

“All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together again.”

“Okay, stop right there,” I said, a strawberry hovering near my mouth. “How are the king's horses going to help put an egg back together? Seriously. They're horses.”

Amber was Cookie's thirteen-going-on-thirty-year-old daughter. She had what I'd begun to suspect was a touch of clairvoyance. She'd surprised me on several occasions with her knowledge or her visions of things to come, and she seemed to have a special connection with Beep. If I didn't know better, I'd say Beep was calmer when Amber was around. It was uncanny.

She sat in a chair beside me, her dark hair hanging in long ringlets down her back, her huge blue eyes concentrating on the pages before her. We were all in slips and robes—except Cookie, who was only in a slip underneath a massive hairdresser's cape—even though the wedding wasn't for another couple of hours. But both Amber's and my hair had been done already, our nails appliqu
é
d to perfection, our makeup soft and sparkly. It had a hint of glitter in it. I argued that my face was shiny enough without adding glitter, but Cookie insisted. She wanted princesses in her wedding, and by damn, we were going to be princesses. I refrained from telling her princesses didn't wear glitter. Pole dancers wore glitter.

“It's a fairy tale,” Amber said with a giggle, looking toward the door again. Uncle Bob was bringing Quentin up for the wedding. Quentin was her best friend and the current love of her life. I had to admit, the kid had stolen my heart at first glance. I couldn't imagine what he'd do to an impressionable girl. Thankfully, Cookie was too old for him.

“Do you think anyone will show up?” Cookie asked me. Again. While Amber was keeping a constant vigil on the door, Cookie was keeping watch over the drive to the convent.

“Yes,” I said, trying not to laugh at her impatience. “Now, stop fidgeting.” Poor Hildie. “Do you guys want anything?” I stuffed the last of the strawberries into my mouth and picked up my phone.

“Again?” Cookie asked. “That poor man.”

“Are you kidding? Have you seen my ass? This is all his fault.”

“Okay, then I'll take a water.”

“And I'll take an orange soda,” Amber chimed in.

“You got it. Hildie?”

“I'm good,” she said, her brows furrowing in concentration.

I texted Reyes. I'd been doing that a lot. Texting demands to my minions. Being fertilized had its upside. Two minutes later, Reyes, wearing a T-shirt and jeans, had raided the kitchen that was down the stairs, past the foyer, and through a great hall—in other words, way too far for me to walk at the moment—and delivered our order.

He handed me a water with a wink. He'd showered, but had yet to shave. Or comb his hair. Or groom himself in any way. Gawd, he was sexy.

“Is that what you're wearing to the wedding?” I asked, teasing him.

In an act that stunned me to my toes, my uncle had asked Reyes to be his best man. They'd grown very close over the past few months—a good thing, since it was basically my uncle Bob who'd put Reyes in prison. But even Reyes had to admit to the insurmountable evidence against him. Earl Walker, the monster who'd raised him, made sure Reyes would be convicted of his murder, and convicted he was. At least until the cops found Earl very much alive.

“This doesn't work?” he asked.

“It works for me, but—”

“Me, too,” Amber said, her crush on Reyes adorable. He flashed that brilliant smile of his. It was very unfair of him.

“Me, three,” Cookie added.

Reyes walked over to Cookie as Hildie teased her hair. Or tried to tease her hair. She slipped several times, her hands suddenly useless in the presence of the son of what was once the most beautiful angel in heaven.

“I promise I'll look more presentable than this when the time comes, but until then.” He took out a small box and handed it to her. “I wanted you to have this before everyone else demands your attention.”

“Reyes,” she said, her eyes wide. She opened it, absorbed the meaning of what it was he was giving her, then threw her arms around his neck.

A gold chain dangled from her fingers, and she flashed me the pendant, a diamond-studded infinity symbol.

“It's perfect,” she said softly, her eyes wet with emotion.

He dipped his head in a bashful smile as she kissed his cheek. Then he turned back to me before I could hide the loving astonishment on my face.

He enchanted.

He simply enchanted.

Stopping in his tracks when he saw my expression, he studied me a long moment before walking over to me and placing a kiss on my cheek. The act was an excuse to whisper in my ear. “You have to stop looking at me like that if we're going to make it through the day without losing our clothes.”

I turned to kiss him back. “I have no intention of making it through the day with you fully clothed.”

He grinned again. “Do you need anything else?”

“Pitocin?”

One corner of his mouth rose. “What's that?”

“It induces labor. It's about time for Beep to move out. Cut her hair. Get a job. I need a flat belly.”

“Have you tried crunches?”

“I just don't get it. I'm supernatural. You're supernatural. Why can't we have one of those quick pregnancies like Bella and Edward? Gwen from
Torchwood.
Scully. Deanna Troi. Or even Cordelia when that demon impregnated her. Twenty-four hours later, bam! Demon child.”

“Aren't they all?” Cookie said, garnering herself a glare from her daughter. Ah, to be thirteen again.

“Seriously, what's with this nine-months crap? This is torture.” I grabbed my belly and scrunched up my face. “Agony. It's worse than scurvy.” I didn't actually know what scurvy was, but it sounded bad.

Reyes chuckled softly, kissed the top of my head, and walked out. Walked out!

“I'm not kidding!” I called after him. “I'm not putting up with this crap much longer.”

“He's gone,” Cookie said.

“Oh, okay.” I cut the act short. “I have to admit, I feel wonderful. Nobody told me it would be like this. I have all this energy. I'm revved up, like, all the time.”

“You're nesting.”

My brows slid together in doubt.

“You know, getting ready for the baby to arrive.”

“So, no actual nests?”

Hildie chuckled as Cookie said, “No actual nests.”

“Is this what it was like for you?”

“I enjoyed my pregnancy quite a bit.”

“Really?” Amber asked, grinning proudly from ear to ear as though it were because of her instead of in spite of her.

“That's good to know,” I said. “What about your labor? How was that?”

“That was fun, too,” she said without missing a beat, her smile suddenly as fake as the lashes Hildie had glued onto her eyelids.

“Cookie, I know when someone is lying to me.”

“Okay, okay. Fun might be a bit of an exaggeration, but it was, you know, interesting. It was a learning experience. You just have to remember it's not forever. The good part is when you have to push. That's when it feels better. But you can't push too early.”

I scanned the area for a pen and paper. “Do I need to take notes? Wait, what happens if I push too early? Katherine the Midwife didn't say anything about pushing too early.”

Katherine was the midwife Reyes had hired. I was surprised she hadn't checked in yet. She'd been coming every day, since I was so close to my due date. That woman loved to poke and prod. I only liked being poked and prodded by one person, and his name was not Katherine.

“What'll happen?” Cookie asked, incredulous. “Are you crazy? If you push too early, you'll— You'll—” She stopped and stared into space.

“Did you just have a seizure?”

She blinked back to me. “No, it's just I have no idea what'll happen if you push too early.”

She glanced at Hildie. The woman shrugged and kept teasing and tugging Cookie's hair this way and that.

Amber shrugged as well when I glanced at her askance.

“You guys are no help. Now I'm going to be scared to death to push.”

“Oh, you'll push,” Cookie said.

Hildie snorted and nodded in agreement.

So did Amber, as though she were very aware of what happened during childbirth.

“Someone's here,” Amber said, jumping up and running to the window. Artemis, who had been snoring into the pillows on my bed, followed suit, barking at the car pulling into the drive.

“Are guests showing up already?” Cookie asked, panicking. “The food hasn't arrived yet. The decorators aren't finished. The flowers are still in the basement.”

I considered getting up for a look, but that's as far as it went.

“Oh,” Amber said. “It's just your stepmother.”

Just when my day was going so beautifully. At least my sister, Gemma, would be with her, the silver lining to that dark cloud. My stepmother had also been coming to check on me every day. The woman who'd never lifted a finger to help me in her life, who had so little interest in me, she never glanced in my direction unless I was bleeding profusely, was suddenly vying for Mother of the Year. Gemma begged me to be patient with her. Said she was lonely after my dad's death. Said she wanted to make amends.

Maybe she did, but a lifetime of disdain was enough to drive anyone away. I had no interest in anything she had to offer, including an excuse for her behavior. She'd been trying to get me alone to talk to me, but I'd managed to dodge that bullet every time thus far. I just didn't want to listen to anything she had to say.

“And someone else is here. A black SUV.”

I finally rolled off David Beckham to take a gander. “Special Agent Carson,” I said, a little surprised. I hadn't seen her in months. We'd talked on the phone a few times and emailed quite a bit, but that was it.

“Oh, the FBI woman. She's so cool,” Amber said, her voice forlorn. “I want to be in the FBI.”

“I thought you wanted to be a hairdresser,” Cookie said. “Or a brain surgeon.”

“I changed my mind. I want a job where I get to carry a gun.”

That was a scary thought. “Why?” I asked.

“Guys dig chicks with guns.”

“Excellent reason,” I said, giving her a high five.

Cookie shook her head.

“I'll go see what's up. Be back in a jiff.”

“Wait!” Cookie said, ducking out of Hildie's grip. “I'll go, too.” She unsnapped the cape and handed it to Hildie.

“Cook, no. It's your wedding day, for goodness' sake. And Hildie isn't finished.”

“Kit might have a case for us. I need to be there to get the lowdown. Hildie can work on Amber.” She raised her brows at Hildie, waiting for confirmation.

Amber had decided she wanted her hair up, and Cookie was game, provided there was enough time to change the style. Apparently, there was time.

“Okay, but as much as I love your undergarments, you're going to need pants.”

*   *   *

Cookie and I went downstairs in our robes and pajama bottoms, leaving Amber to be pampered and primped by Hildie. Artemis bounded down the stairs right behind us as we padded across the wood floor to the front door.

I opened it and welcomed Kit with open arms. Literally. She eyed me a long moment, then let me give her a hug, patting my back as though she didn't know what else to do with her hands.