Summoned to Thirteenth Grave (Charley Davidson #13) Page 24

  Now, however, with the shavings from the original knife, we had a new weapon, its power restored.

  “What do you think? Will it work?” Before he could answer, I said, “Oh, I almost forgot.” I cleared my throat. “Reyes, I’d like to formerly introduce you to Thaniel Just, Rocket’s grandson.”

  Reyes tipped his head in greeting, still fascinated with the blade.

  “So?” I asked, nudging just a little. “It can kill any supernatural being. What about a hell dimension?”

  “It could work. If we can make it past the hordes of demons, get into the apartment, and find the heart, it could work.”

  “You’re not really bursting my bubble of hope, but you are letting a little of the air out.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “We’ve worked with less.”

  “True. So,” I said, turning to Thaniel, “would you like to meet your grandfather?”

  Thaniel straightened his shoulders and nodded. “Sure.”

  “I’m going to take a shower,” Reyes said.

  “Okay. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  “Don’t worry, that’s been my motto for years now. What’s kept me alive for so long.”

  I gasped, pretending to be offended. He pulled me into his arms and dipped his head until our mouths almost touched. After pausing to regard me, his dark eyes glistening as though trying to read my mind, he kissed me quickly, lifted a hand to Thaniel, and headed off.

  * * *

  We took the stairs down to the basement.

  “I have to warn you, he was traumatized recently.”

  “By whom?”

  “That’s a long story.” I didn’t want to give him a bad impression of Reyes when they’d only just met.

  “So, your husband.”

  What the fuck? “No,” I said, lying through my pearly whites.

  “Mm-hm,” he said, dubious.

  “Well, yes, but Reyes really is a good guy.”

  “You are aware he’s a demon.”

  “Only a little.”

  Thaniel stopped on the bottom rung and gave me a once-over.

  “Are you okay?”

  “It’s just, that was an educated guess. I’ve never met an actual demon.”

  “Well, the full-blooded ones are a lot meaner. Except for Osh. But he was a slave demon. A Daeva. Maybe that makes him different.”

  “And what are you?”

  “I’m a whole slew of awesome that you’re going to get to know much better if I have any say in the matter. And if I don’t die tomorrow. Mostly if I don’t die tomorrow, but first . . .”

  We found Rocket curled in the same corner I’d left him earlier. The vision of him broke my heart. “Rocket?”

  He didn’t look up.

  We eased closer. “Rocket, someone’s here to meet you.”

  After a moment, he barely lifted his head and looked out from underneath an arm.

  I wasn’t sure how much Thaniel could see, but every ounce of his attention was focused on Rocket. He must have been able to see him, not just a hazy outline of him, like Pari.

  “This is Thaniel. Your grandson.”

  He dropped his arms and straightened.

  “His mother was your daughter. You and Ilsa had a baby.”

  “Ilsa. Jill the Giant said we got married, but Nurse Hobbs said we didn’t.”

  “Well, Nurse Hobbs was wrong. You and Ilsa were married, and you had a baby girl.”

  “And she was smart like you?”

  I shook my head. “Smarter.”

  He beamed at me. “And then she got married and had him?”

  “She did. She was very proud of him. She passed down your gifts.”

  As we stood talking, I saw Blue Bell emerge out of the corner of my eye, curious.

  I motioned her over. She took another wary step closer.

  “Blue, this is your great-nephew, Thaniel.”

  Thaniel’s emotions spoke volumes. Despite what he’d said earlier, he’d wanted to know about his family for a long time.

  He knelt down to Blue’s level. She kept her distance at first, then something caught her eye. Recognition flashed across her face, just like it had when I’d first met Thaniel.

  She dared another step, and then another, until she was right in front of him. She put a hand on his cheek and stared.

  It was the eyes. Something about the shape. The gray. The expressive warmth.

  She smiled.

  “He has your gift,” I told her, kneeling, too. “He sees the names and records them.” I wasn’t about to tell her how.

  Blue took Rocket’s hands and drew him closer as I stepped away to give them some privacy. I went upstairs, grabbed a coffee, and then headed back down, but I stayed in a corner, giving them plenty of space.

  About twenty minutes later, Thaniel walked over to me.

  “That was . . .”

  “Amazing?”

  He turned back to his family. “Humbling.”

  Damn it. I fell in love. I did that so often. “You need to leave town.”

  “I’ve been trying to all day,” he said, teasing. “Are you going to tell me what you are?”

  “How about I show you?”

  His lids narrowed.

  “Hold my latte.” I handed him my coffee and walked over to Rocket and Blue, but I turned back. “Don’t drink any.”

  “Like I want your cooties.”

  Oh, yeah. In love. Any time a grown man with muscles the size of his used the word cooties, my heart turned to melted chocolate.

  “Rocket, Blue, if you’d like to cross, it’s okay. You could be with Ilsa and your daughter,” I told Rocket. “And you could be with your parents,” I told Blue. They were still undecided, so I added, “Thaniel can take over now, so you can move on.”

  Blue took Rocket’s hand.

  His gray eyes sparkled with excitement at the prospect of the coming adventure.

  As he stepped closer, he said in a soft voice, “Miss Charlotte.” It was the last thing he said before he and Blue crossed.

  Images rushed past me. Of his life on the farm. Of being bullied as a child. Of his sister always being there for him despite the fact that she died at the age of five. She never left him. And of Ilsa. He’d loved her from the moment he saw her. And if the expression on her face were any indication, she’d felt the same.

  And then he was gone. I’d known him for years. He’d helped me through so many situations. Been there through so many low points in my life. I could always count on him for a hug. His hugs were dangerous and often caused internal damage, but they were better than chocolate-covered coffee beans.

  With my heart ever-so-slightly shattered, I turned back to Thaniel, but Strawberry rushed up to me before I could say anything, her new friend Livia on her heels. She looked inside and laughed. “There he is. I told you I couldn’t find him, and he’s been there the whole time.”

  Alarm shot through me. “Who, honey?”

  She waved. “David. Duh.”

  David? David her brother? He died? I’d seen him a couple of weeks ago.

  Before I could ask anything else, she ran through me, stealing my breath and watering my eyes. I saw her playing with her dolls. Arguing with her brother. Stealing cookies off the counter. She was little hellion even before she died. Who knew?

  And that left Livia. She stood gazing into my light, her dark eyes full of interest and awe.

  “Would you like to cross?” I asked her, again using ancient Greek and hoping for the best.

  She didn’t answer.

  “You’re not really much of a talker, are you?”

  The smile she handed me bordered on impish. “My father said that to learn a person’s true nature, be quiet.”

  I laughed softly. “At least I got the language right.”

  I had so many questions for her, but she stepped forward and crossed before I got the chance to ask. And I was gifted with another life to live, this one in ancient Rome.

  The images, the si
ghts and sounds and smells, were all foreign to me. Exotic and rudimentary, but cleaner than I’d expected.

  She’d gotten sick. Livia. Her days were filled with sunshine, good food, and family. She remembered her mother once commenting that her beautiful daughter had been promised to a prince who was seven years older than she was. She saw a drawing of him once and, even at five, she approved wholeheartedly.

  She’d been playing with her cousins when she began to feel bad. Her family was well off, but the illness hit so hard and so fast, she was gone by sunset that day. The physicians could do nothing to save her.

  She’d stayed for her mother. She was devastated, and Livia wanted her to know she was okay, but she had no way of telling her.

  After they’d laid her to rest in the tomb, a man came to see her. A priest. He put a box in one of the pillars and summoned a beast to watch over it. A lion. Then he left, and Livia waited for centuries to be found.

  Just as Livia was reunited with her mother, I drifted back to the present. Whoever put the box in the tomb wanted me to find it. And yet someone else out there didn’t.

  I’d almost forgotten about my guest.

  “You’re her,” he said, astonished. “My mother used to talk about you.”

  “Really?” I asked, a little appalled. “So, like, what’d she say?”

  A grin of epic mischief spread across his face. “I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”

  “You have a lot of faith there’ll actually be a day after tomorrow.”

  “I have faith in you. Thanks to my mother.”

  He turned and ascended the stairs, leaving me alone in the massive room with my emotions. They bounced off the walls and boomeranged back to me, knocking my breath away. Shaking my core.

  Rocket was gone.

  I buried my face in my hands and let sorrow take its course.

  22

  Coffee makes everything okayer.

  —MEME

  The last two days had taken their toll, but to lose Rocket and Blue and Strawberry on top of Gemma and, hell, even David Taft. I’d just gotten them back after more than 100 years. It was a lot to put on a girl. Perhaps I’d join them sooner than planned.

  Either way, I’d lived a surreal life. Who was I to complain about the prospect of death? Most people would never experience the loves I’d seen. The heartbreak. The overwhelming joy.

  No. If I were to die tomorrow, I’d die knowing my daughter was in the best hands possible. I’d lived the most joyous moments of thousands of lives. And I’d loved a god.

  “This is a great room,” Reyes said as he descended the stairs. “I’m not sure I want to stand in it for hours on end, but to each her own.”

  When he reached me, I commanded him to turn around, making a circle with my index finger. Despite his wary expression, he did as ordered. I put my hands on his shoulders and jumped on his back.

  He sank beneath my weight, pretended to falter, then wobbled back onto his feet.

  “I need help upstairs,” I said, laughing out loud when we fell against a wall.

  His long arms hooked around my legs, and he straightened with ease. “I think I pulled my groin.”

  “You’d better not have. You’re going to need all the groin you can get later.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I was thinking we could go salsa dancing. It requires a lot of hip action.”

  “Tease.”

  When we reached the top of the stairs, I tightened my hold and said into his ear, “I want to see Beep.”

  “You couldn’t have told me that two flights ago?”

  I studied the perfection of his profile. The length of his lashes. The definition of his nose. The fullness of his mouth. He glanced back at me just as his molecules began to separate. And he smiled.

  We materialized in a small château surrounded by snow-covered trees. A fire crackled from an open hearth with a fur rug in front of it. And on the rug lay a cherub about four months old. She kicked her legs, trying her darnedest to roll over and get to the paw of one of the three hellhounds guarding her.

  It bent its head and nudged her back to the center of the rug. She giggled, enjoying the game of Test the Hellhound.

  The other hellhounds were outside patrolling. Ever present. Ever watchful.

  When we materialized, the three surrounding our daughter stood and emitted a low growl. They lowered their heads and studied us.

  I hopped off Reyes’s back and stepped closer. Their growls grew louder, forcing the hair on the back of my neck to stand.

  I knelt. “You guys are the best watchdogs ever,” I said as the one closest to me whimpered in excitement and threw a paw on my head. “Yes, you are.” He buried his face against my neck and pushed, almost knocking me over as I hugged him to me.

  The other two wagged their tails and licked their chops, excited to see us but refusing to leave their posts. I made the rounds, lavishing attention on the same hounds we once thought were sent to kill Beep. Unbeknownst to us, they’d been summoned to protect her with their lives.

  And we couldn’t have asked for a better sentry. Twelve of the deadliest beings ever created kept a constant vigil on the most precious thing in my life.

  I lay down beside her, realizing then that the Loehrs had come into the room. Mr. Loehr carried a bottle for the little minx before me and Mrs. Loehr a diaper and wipes.

  “I let them warm in front of the fire,” she said, referring to the wipes.

  “How are you?”

  “Never better.” Her gaze strayed to Reyes. Her son. The one who’d been taken from her. The one she’d been denied the honor of raising.

  I often wondered what he would’ve become had he been raised by these wonderful people. They were the perfect choice for our daughter.

  Reyes had to feel the pull of Mrs. Loehr’s adoration. Every time she looked at him, she basked in the man he’d become. Mr. Loehr as well. The pride he felt for his son, the unconditional love, made my chest swell.

  Reyes walked over and wrapped them both in his embrace, as I turned back to the wiggle worm in front of me. Her bright copper eyes, a strange combination of Reyes’s and mine, holding steady on my face. She reached for my hair, twisted her fingers into a lock, and pulled, shoving it straight into her mouth.

  I disentangled my hair and pushed it behind me. “You do not need to eat my hair. There’s no telling where it’s been.”

  She squeaked in delight and tried to roll closer, putting all of her fifteen pounds into it. She made it as far as her side before giving up and rocking back in place.

  I’d seen this, of course. The love a mother had for her child. I’d seen it over and over in those who crossed through me. But I’d never really understood it until I had my own spider monkey.

  I ran my fingertips over her face. She grabbed them instantly and went for the mouth again. I let her this time. It gave me the perfect opportunity to attack her more vulnerable areas like her neck and her toes. I kissed every exposed inch of her. Marveled at her long fingers and chubby ankles. Laughed when she put her hands on my cheeks and tried to gnaw off my face with a piranha-like ferocity.

  Reyes sat on the floor next to us. The hellhound closest nudged him, and he offered him a quick nuzzle before turning back to Beep. As tightly wound as his emotions were, as hard to read as they tended to be, there was nothing difficult in detecting the enchantment he felt every time he looked at her.

  The Loehrs took the chairs beside us, more than willing to share their granddaughter.

  Mr. Loehr’s brows slid together. “How’s the situation in Albuquerque?”

  Reyes didn’t say anything at first, then he answered as honestly as he could. “We’ll know more tomorrow.”

  “What’s tomorrow?” Mrs. Loehr asked.

  I glanced up at her and said honestly, “The battle.”

  The Loehrs had gone for decades not knowing what happened to their son. I was not going to keep them in the dark about anything concerning Beep.

&n
bsp; I picked Beep up and handed her to Reyes. He raised her high. She giggled with excitement, then did the piranha thing with him, too, trying with all her might to devour his face. And what a face it was.

  Sitting up, I looked over at Mr. Wong. He stood in a corner, a place he clearly liked to be if his three-year stint in my apartment was any indication. He bowed his head in greeting.

  He’d been the one to summon the hellhounds, to beckon them to our side. They obeyed his every command, but they’d been marked with Beep’s blood. They would never allow anything to happen to her, even if Mr. Wong ordered them to. They were truly the perfect guardians.

  “If this thing goes south,” I said to him, “you know what to do.”

  He bowed his head again as Mrs. Loehr covered her mouth with a hand. Her anxiety quaked inside my body, splintering my cells.

  “And just what is that?” Osh asked.

  I started and looked over at him. He sat on a window seat, an arm braced on one knee as the other leg dangled over the side.

  “If we don’t succeed, if the Shade continues to expand, Mr. Wong is to take her to our home dimension.”

  Having not been told that part of the plan, Osh stiffened. But he could hardly argue. If the Shade won, Earth wouldn’t be safe.

  He cast an irate glare at Reyes. I could still feel a part of him that fumed, his animosity directed solely at my husband no matter how hard I tried to tell him the whole thing was my fault.

  “Of course,” he said to me, acquiescing. “She’s all that matters.”

  The more I saw how Osh felt about Beep, the more I thought about the prophecy about the warrior, the one who might or might not be standing by her side during the battle with Satan. His fierce need to protect her gave me a modicum of peace when contemplating all the ways this could go terribly, terribly wrong. I couldn’t help but believe that, short of death, anything would keep him from her side.

  Then again, a lot could happen between now and then.

  We said our good-byes, drinking in our daughter’s image until we’d memorized every aspect of her being, then slowly, oh so slowly, we dematerialized out of our daughter’s life.

  * * *

  Unable to sleep, I went downstairs to make a pot of coffee. The caffeine would help me chase down a few z’s. Those suckers were slippery. I’d need all the energy I could get. My stomach housed butterflies the size of Los Angeles. Only these had claws. And pincers with a stinging bite.