Eighth Grave After Dark Read online

  In a heartbeat, I was standing on solid ground, a hot wind raked over my skin. It burned like acid, and my skin started to darken. As though I had a disease, I began to turn black, the top layers of my epidermis drying and floating off in thousands of tiny flakes. Wherever the skin peeled off and flew away, my flesh glowed a bright orange, as though I were made of molten lava on the inside. And I burned. Every breath I took scorched my throat, set fire to my lungs. My eyes calcified, leaving spiderweb cracks for me to see through. It was like looking at the desolate landscape through a shattered windowpane.

  I stepped forward, the sound of a thousand screams swirling around me, carried on the blistering wind like whispers of agony. The ground broke beneath me, the top layer black with the same molten orange underneath. I tried to take another step, but I was melted to the spot. I couldn’t move. Then I looked harder. In between the cracks of inklike crust were people. I could see faces screaming in pain, hands reaching out to me. I gasped and paid the price as the scalding air entered me again, turning my lungs to boiling acid, eating me away from the inside out.

  I looked across the landscape again and realized what I thought were boulders on the horizon were people, melting into the maelstrom. They couldn’t move either. All that was visible of them was their eyes. Wide. Terrified.

  Sorry.

  They were all sorry for whatever it was they had done. The screams started to make sense to me. They were a chorus of pleas, apologizing for what they’d done, begging for forgiveness.

  I watched as my skin peeled away, just like what was happening to those around me who had yet to melt completely. The skin drifting off them was like fireflies at night. Horrific yet magical.

  I had never imagined in my wildest dreams it would be like this. I knew it would be hot. Like my husband was. I realized I was on a surface that descended for thousands of floors beneath me. That was where Reyes was born. That was where Lucifer ruled.

  I wouldn’t be able to get back. I was stuck in hell, and by the time Reyes found me, I would be a melted glob just like all the others.

  But I wasn’t like all the others. I was a bit different. This place held no sway over me. At least, that’s what I chose to tell myself. I lifted my foot and forced it out of the glassy quicksand. I lifted the other and then forced the fires off me with a thought. My skin began to heal. The darkness drifted off me one last time as I stood my ground. Finding anyone in this sea of condemned souls would seem an impossible feat, but I knew exactly how to get him to me. He was now a bound spirit in the underworld. I could summon it, just like any other soul.

  I bowed my head and ordered him to appear in front of me.

  The melting, fiery thing that materialized looked nothing like a man, though I could see its eyes, like saucers, afraid. Sorry. Begging for forgiveness.

  I decided he’d need his mouth to talk to me. I reached out and touched what I’d hoped was a shoulder. He slowly re-formed and, now that he had a voice again, screamed in agony as a pain like none other consumed him. Continuing to heal him, I waited until he was able to stop screaming long enough to talk.

  Once he was partially human again, his skin blackened but remained intact. I began my interrogation.

  “Where is the girl?” I yelled at him. I had to yell to be heard above the wind and the screams.

  He looked confused at first, then surprised. “You’re here for her?”

  “Where is Faris? Where did you take her?”

  “You aren’t here to get me out of this?”

  “No,” I said. I should have lied, but I didn’t want him to feel any hope when Faris damned sure didn’t. I didn’t want him to have that luxury.

  His shoulders collapsed the moment he realized he was going back.

  “Where is she?” I asked, keeping my fingertips on him.

  He glowered at me, his blistering features contorting under the heat. “Why should I tell you? What more can you do to me?”

  I took my hand away and he cried out in agony as the lava took him again. What most people didn’t know was that hell is only a temporary punishment. You simply ceased to exist after, but you burned for a limited amount of time, the amount depending on what you did to warrant a trip to the basement. After replacing my hand, giving him a small measure of relief, I leaned in. “Because I can make this last forever.”

  He knew he had no recourse. No bargaining chip. It was agony for a little while or agony forever. He decided to try to get in my good graces.

  He lowered his head. “At my house. She’s at my house.”

  “Liar,” I said, my voice a husky version of the original, mostly because my throat had been burned to a crisp. “We’ve looked.”

  “There is a room. The fireplace pulls out. It’s an old panic room. Solid concrete. She’s in there.” When he looked back at me, his face was full of remorse. “I didn’t mean to kill her. Olivia Dern. It was an accident.”

  The girl from high school. “And what about Faris?”

  “She was my second chance. A sign that I could make amends. I didn’t hurt her. I swear. She’s Olivia born again. Check her birthday. You’ll understand.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about, nor did I care. I only wanted out of the literally godforsaken place.

  When I let go, he lunged for me, but it was too late. He’d solidified to the spot and began melting back into the ground whence he came.

  “Please take me with you!” he yelled, but his voice was distant and intermingled with the thousands of others.

  I stepped back away from him and turned full circle. It was like an entire planet of just melting bodies. But underneath the melted faces at my feet, through the glowing glass, I saw the huge black eyes of demons. The razor-sharp teeth. The thick shiny scales.

  They were coming for me. I had trespassed and they were swimming up through the bodies to get to me. I stumbled back and fell, the heat of the molten floor beneath me scorching the skin off my palms. Scrambling back onto my feet, I saw one of them. He walked straight for me, his skin blackening just like mine, his flesh molten just like mine. But this was no demon. He walked purposefully, his gait primal, as smooth as a panther’s. I stood transfixed, unable to believe my eyes until Reyes was upon me, his hand around my throat.

  * * *

  He didn’t talk. He didn’t say a word. He simply held me by my throat as fury surged through him. Even here I could feel it. His emotions. His palpable anger.

  Then we were in the void. He’d never taken his eyes off me, and still didn’t, even as creatures tried to follow us through the void. Reyes was too fast. His knowledge of the void now vast.

  The blackened parts of his face faded and the frost was back. A thin layer of ice covered his mouth, spiked his dark lashes.

  Then his heat blasted across my skin again and he thrust me against the nearest wall.

  I didn’t move. Instead, I allowed him to catch his breath. To remember who I was and what I meant to him. If he couldn’t, if the beast he was in hell had come back in full force, I would have no choice but to disable him. But this was Reyes who held me. In all his glory. In all his rage. It was still Reyes.

  He glared at me, his dark brown irises shimmering dangerously. He was trying to get his emotions under control. I let him. I gave him all the leeway he needed. His wide chest heaved and he moved at last, leaned into me, tightened his grip on my neck, but not enough to cause me discomfort. Quite the opposite. But he was too frustrated, too enraged to take advantage of the raw power rushing through his veins. He growled, a low and guttural sound, then hit the wall by my head with such force, he dented the drywall and broke a stud. It cracked loudly.

  That was when I realized we had an audience. Osh stood near me as though to stop Reyes should he take it too far. Garrett wasn’t far behind him. Angel stood off to the side by the washer, his face averted. Had he ratted me out? No matter. I’d gotten what I went in for.

  Last but not least was Cookie. She stood, fear radiating out of her in wave
s. Fear for me and for Reyes. He could easily do something he would regret later. She didn’t want that. Not for either of us.

  The soft sounds of a baby breathing drifted to us and we both turned. Cookie was holding Beep, her sweet face like a salve on the stinging wounds we’d rubbed raw. Reyes’s biting emotions shuddered through him. He turned from me, from us all, as wetness slipped past his lashes.

  “We’re okay,” I said, placing a hand on Osh’s arm to reassure him. “We’re okay.” I stepped to Reyes, and in a lightning-quick move, he grabbed hold of my arm. Not to hurt or scare me, but to slow time with me. In here, we could talk with no one the wiser.

  “Why?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

  “I needed information from that man.”

  “For a case?” he scoffed, and turned from me in disbelief. “You risked everything for a case?”

  “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 test
ed 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.