Sixth Grave on the Edge (37 page)

The corners of her eyes crinkled as she studied my BFF. “I like her.”

“I like her, too. Can you show me what Rocket has been up to?”

After another one-shouldered shrug, Strawberry led the way, asking Cookie question after question. I held a flashlight and interpreted as we made our way through the perilous halls. By the time we found Rocket, Strawberry knew just about everything there was to know about Cookie, including the fact that she had a daughter. Strawberry wanted to meet her immediately and made me promise to bring her to see them.

We rounded yet another corner, which led to the infirmary, and found Rocket standing against a wall, scribbling another name into it. Rocket was like a human version of the Pillsbury Doughboy. He towered a solid foot over my head when we stood toe to toe, and he had kind, inquisitive eyes that never quite registered what was going on around him.

“He’s very behind,” Strawberry repeated, pointing to the wall he’d been carving up. But I wasn’t concerned about the names on his list. I was concerned about him. About how I’d left things between us. I wouldn’t blame him if he never spoke to me again. At least Reyes had bought this place for me, so I could keep Rocket and his sister safe here. While he was incorporeal, the property damage he did was quite corporeal. If this place was ever torn down, I didn’t know where he would go.

“Rocket?” I said, inching toward him. He paused and glanced at the floor before continuing with what he was doing. He held a piece of broken glass in his left hand, scoring the wall with it until his scratching resembled a letter of the alphabet, only not ours, not English. I didn’t pay much attention as I glanced around for a sign of his sister. It had taken me years to get a glimpse of her, and I’d scared the life out of her—so to speak—during my last visit. I would probably never see her again.

Though he was very aware of my presence, he continued working.

I let go of Cookie’s arm and stepped closer. “Rocket, I’m so sorry about how I behaved. I had no right to get mad at you or to threaten your sister. I have no excuse.”

“That’s okay, Miss Charlotte,” he said, keeping his gaze averted. “But he shouldn’t be here.”

He was talking about Reyes. “He died yesterday,” I said. “And he came back. Was that why you wrote his name on the wall?”

“He’s very behind. People are crossing over to the other side, and he’s not writing their names down.”

“Strawberry, he’s working like crazy. See all those names?” I asked, pointing to Rocket’s artwork.

“No,” she said, growing frustrated. “Those aren’t people who have died. Those are people who are going to die.”

I blinked in realization. We were in the room he was saving. The only room that, until recently, had pristine walls. Not a scratch on them. Not a single name had marred their surfaces. He’d told me once that he was saving these walls for the end of the world. For when Reyes was going to end the world if I kept him here on earth with us. He’d told me his being here was breaking the rules. It went against the natural order of things.

Rocket spoke over his shoulder. “I told you not to bring him back, Miss Charlotte.”

I stepped away from him for a better view. Strawberry was right. These were all new names, all new carvings. “I don’t understand,” I said to him.

He stopped scribbling at last and turned toward me. When he spoke, his words were a mere whisper echoing in the large chamber. “I told you, he’s not supposed to be here. He’s breaking the rules.” He put an index finger to his mouth as though to shush me. “No breaking rules, Miss Charlotte.”

“Who are these people, Rocket?” I asked, stepping forward to run my fingers along the jagged lines.

“They are the people who are going away soon.”

I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”

“You didn’t kill him. You were supposed to kill him. It wasn’t your fault, but you were supposed to. Now they’re all going away.”

“How many people are going away?”

His mouth thinned as he scanned his work. “All of them.”

“This can’t happen, Rocket.”

“You broke the rules, Miss Charlotte. You brought him back.”

“Bullshit,” I said, getting angry with Rocket again.

He took a wary step back as I drew in a deep breath, tried to keep hold of every ounce of calm I could muster. “I’m sorry, hon. I just don’t understand. How is Reyes supposed to cause the deaths of all these people?”

“Not how,” he said, reverting back to his old standby. “Not when, only who.”

He could only tell me who died. Not how or when or why. Only who.

“No breaking rules,” he said, his voice now shaky.

I narrowed my lids, the shards of anger that nipped along the edges of my psyche slicing through the barrier I’d put up and slid silently inside. “I make the rules, Rocket. How is Reyes supposed to cause the deaths of—” I glanced around. “—thousands of people?”

“Not thousands, Miss Charlotte. Seven billion two hundred forty-eight million six hundred twenty thousand one hundred thirteen.”

Stunned, I shook my head. “How?” I repeated through teeth that were now welded together. “That’s everyone on Earth, and that’s not possible. How?”

He frowned and glanced down in thought. “Or one.”

“What?” I said, blinking back to him.

“Or one. If one dies, everyone lives.”

“Who, Rocket? Reyes?”

“No, Miss Charlotte. Not this time.”

“Wait, I changed destiny, right? I brought Reyes back. But now someone else has to die?” When he nodded, I asked, “Who?”

We’d been here before, and it did not end well. Rocket didn’t want to tell me, but he’d lost some of his innocence since our last encounter. He now knew better than to hold back.

He swallowed hard and whispered, the word like brittle paper in the air, thin and so fragile, I was afraid it would crumble before it got to me. But it didn’t. It reverberated in my mind like a crash of thunder.

He looked at me, his eyes round, and said again, “You, Miss Charlotte.”

And there it was.

24

More caffeine!

I’ve got lives to ruin!

—T-SHIRT

Reyes and I lay in our respective beds, our faces centimeters apart, our breaths meeting in the middle, caressing. Though it was past midnight, he’d just showered and smelled clean, his earthy scent rich beneath the sandalwood soap he’d used. His hair, still slightly damp, curled at his cheek and around his ear.

I didn’t get much more out of Rocket, but if I had to die to save the world, so be it. Timing would be an issue, but I planned on enjoying every second I had left with my fiancé.

“Want to come over to my place?” I asked him.

The sparkle in his eyes danced in humor. “I don’t know,” he said. “You live so far away.”

I squeaked as he reached up and slid me down the length of him, caressing my stomach with his mouth as I passed, searing my skin with each kiss. I kissed his stomach back before turning over and curling into his side.

We settled onto his side of the beds. His was much more comfortable than mine anyway. I had no idea how different I’d feel after sleeping on a good mattress. I could totally get used to it.

I had this amazing gift for living in denial. Until I died, I was going to live each day like I had a million more after that one. And that started here and now.

“If we ever get divorced,” I said into his neck as I trailed kisses over his pulse points, “I’m taking you for every mattress you have. Fair warning. You might want to consider a prenup.”

“Are you planning on divorcing me?”

“Not at the moment, but I have a few movie-star crushes I’m still holding out hope for. If any of them call, you will be so yesterday.”

“You know, it’s sad how many movie stars die unexpectedly.”

I gasped and rose so I could gape at him. “You’d kill my crushes?”

“Only the ones that hit on you.”

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll tell Brad to stop calling. He’s married, for God’s sake.”

“That would be wise.” He nipped at my earlobe, causing a tingle to bolt through me.

I pushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. “You bought me a new Jeep,” I said, noting that she’d been doing much better than before my run-in with Mr. Raving Lunatic two weeks prior.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

“I figured.”

“Noni did the best he could, but to drive her without completely replacing the frame would have been dangerous. It would have cost more, and you would’ve still had problems in the long run.”

I understood. “Thank you. It’s still Misery. I can feel her in spirit.”

He patted my head like one would when consoling a child. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Dutch.”

He made me giggle, but he still needed to be punished for his insolence, so I bit his shoulder. Hard. He sucked in a lungful of air and rolled on top of me. Brushing the hair out of my eyes, he said, “You know, they say that those who know the real name of the grim reaper hold power over him. Or, in this case, her.”

I sobered, suddenly more interested in the conversation than in his delicious shoulders. “They say that?” I asked, wondering what
real
name he would be referring to.

“Yes.”

“And do you know my real name?”

He propped his head on an elbow and stared down at me. “I do, in fact. I heard it whispered on the voice of every angel in heaven when they sent you.”

“And?” I asked, hopeful. I knew so little about that part of myself.

“You aren’t supposed to hear it until you pass.”

“Pass? Like, away?” I asked, surprised. That could be much sooner than either of us had expected.

“Yes. When you fully become the grim reaper.”

“But you know it now, right? You could tell me.”

He lowered his head. “I’m not sure what knowing it would do. Like I said, there is a power behind it.”

“How can something as arbitrary as a name have power?”

“Your real name is anything but arbitrary. Just remember something, Dutch. You are not of this world. You never will be. Your human existence is just a microsecond in your life. A necessary state of being to ground you on this plane. At first, I thought that was why my father wanted me to wait for you. You can’t just capture a reaper unless you can catch one in human form. There is simply no way to catch a portal otherwise. It’s like trying to grab hold of smoke.”

“You said, at first.”

“Yes. I’m with Swopes. I think Lucifer lied to me and to him. I think there’s more to it; I just don’t know what. Either way, you still have a job waiting for you after your corporeal being ceases to exist. A job that will last centuries.”

“And knowing my name will make me more powerful?” I asked, perplexed.

“Yes. It is part of your transformation. And since your family is so powerful, you even more so, I can’t imagine what knowing it would do.”

“So why are you telling me this now?” I asked. I’d been begging for information like this from him for months.

“I owe you,” he said, matter-of-fact.

“You do? Cool. And just what do you owe me for?”

The seriousness in his eyes hit me hard. “Because you said yes.”

I blinked in surprise. “You think because I agreed to marry you, you owe me?”

“You don’t realize what that means. You are literally royalty, born to the king and queen of your kind. Your marrying me will be like a beloved princess marrying a street urchin.”

I snickered, but his expression remained severe.

“But again, you are more special than any of your kind. More powerful. I’m beginning to understand you have a much higher purpose than I’d ever realized. For us to marry … let’s just say your celestial, for lack of a better word, family would not approve.”

“I would love to know more about them,” I coaxed. When it became clear I wasn’t getting any more out of him where that was concerned, I pressed him about his own. “What about your family? Are you ever going to try to contact them? I still believe they would want to know you are alive and well.”

“Perhaps. Just as your parents would you.”

I rose onto my elbows. “What do you mean?”

“Their sacrifice was a great one. Once one of their kind is sent, they lose all contact until the reaper’s physical form passes. They have no idea how you are doing, what your life has been like.”

“Wow. Our parents are more similar than I thought. Do you remember being born?” I asked him out of the blue. I’d always wondered about how he came into the world, both in the supernatural realm, when created by his outcast father, and here on earth.

“The memory of my human existence isn’t like yours. I remember bits and pieces.”

“What about your creation? What about when Lucifer created you?”

He lay back and rested an arm on his forehead. “
That
I remember well.”

“Can you tell me about it?” I asked, resting my chin on his shoulder. He pulled me closer against his side.

“I remember the pain of creation,” he said, his thoughts far away. “The heat of the fire. The color of my skin as it smoldered, as the muscle and tendon beneath it formed and solidified. I remember the being that created me—my father, as it were—and from the moment I took my first breath, I knew he had no love for what he’d created. He had dark machinations. He had a plan and I was a big part of it. But first I had to prove myself. And so the tests began.” He came back to me and kissed the tip of my nose. “My childhood was not the stuff of fairy tales.”

“I would love to hear about it.”

“Then you’re going to be disappointed. I can’t tell you.”

“Why?”

“Any love that you have in your heart for me would vanish.”

“Reyes—”

“Dutch,” he said, cutting me off. “Please do not ask that of me. It is a darkness I cannot share. I would lose you forever, and I’ve only ever wanted you. You are literally the light in my darkness, the redemption of my past. I waited centuries for you to be born on earth, for me to be able to bask in your glow. You are like a gravitational force that lures me closer with each breath you take.”

I lay rather stunned.

“Imagine a canvas bathed completely in black. Only black. There is no shape. No purpose other than to bring darkness. Then splash on a brilliant white. Add some reds and blues, some yellows and greens. Suddenly it has meaning. It has a reason to exist. That is what you have done to my world. You brought me purpose. Light and color to fill the void of oblivion. Without you, there is only the darkness.”