Summoned to Thirteenth Grave (Charley Davidson #13) Read online

  “I have a solution.”

  “Good,” Reyes said, folding a tortilla around the burrito innards and handing it to the renegade angel. “I was worried.”

  “I know how we can keep Beep safe and watch her grow up. Also, I met my mother.”

  That got his attention. “How?”

  “I accidently summoned her.”

  “No, how can we keep Beep safe?”

  “A haven, like the one around the Vatican keeping you out.”

  “You can’t go to the Vatican?” Ubie asked, surprised.

  “And the Shade. It was a type of haven. We couldn’t dematerialize inside it.”

  “Okay,” Reyes said, still not catching on.

  “So, we create a haven around Beep. Around a city. Any city in which the Loehrs want to live, and we get to see her every day. We get to watch her grow up without the fear that a demon, or any other supernatural being, can get to her.”

  “And how do we get to see her every day?”

  “Our energy will be the source of the haven. It will be us, guarding her and protecting her, just in a very different way.” I stepped closer to him. “Remember what Pandu said? Your darkness is a void. It simply needs to be filled with my light. I think that’s how we do it. We’ll be together. And one day when she needs us most, we’ll be there.”

  Reyes gave me a look of bewilderment. “It’s brilliant.”

  I nodded, just as bewildered. “I know, right?”

  It was like once the solution took hold, we could think of nothing else.

  As we ate and planned and talked to the Loehrs about where they’d most like to live, a news story was playing on the TV, proclaiming the area allegedly infection-free.

  “It stopped as suddenly as it started,” a male news anchor reported. “Remarkably, only thirteen people died in an epidemic the CDC feared could kill tens of thousands.”

  Then a female reporter came on and said, “In other news, scientists are scratching their heads over a large pool of glass that showed up in the Sahara Desert over the weekend. They’re baffled as to what caused it. So far, there is only speculation about what could have heated such a large area of sand so much, it created this spectacular sea of shimmering blue, but people from all over the world are already flocking to see it. Some are even calling it a miracle.”

  I caught Reyes staring at me, his expression warm and curious at the same time.

  “What?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

  “You know, if we do this, we can’t question the Loehrs’ parenting style.”

  I had the presence of mind to look offended. “I would never.”

  A grin so sensual it should have been outlawed slid across his face. “So, if they force her to eat spinach, you won’t interfere?”

  “First of all, forcing a child to eat spinach is cruel and unusual and should carry a prison sentence. Second, I trust them implicitly.”

  The decision made, we asked Uncle Bob to give everyone our good-byes. He agreed, understanding. I worried how Cookie would take it, but she had Ubie. What more could a girl ask for?

  Still, I sat there astonished that this man, my very own uncle, was an angel. A supreme being. A celestial warrior. I couldn’t fathom what prompted him to stay on Earth. To take a thankless job, one full of death and deceit and disillusion. To be surrounded by humans he couldn’t possibly see as his equal.

  And yet, he’d stayed.

  Wingless once again, he pulled me into a long hug. He smelled like lightning and rain and cinnamon.

  I breathed deep and whispered, “I’m sorry, Uncle Bob.”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  I hugged him harder, memorizing the feel of him against me before stepping away.

  Without another word, Reyes and I dematerialized and rematerialized in the town the Loehrs had chosen, a.k.a. Mrs. Loehr’s favorite place on Earth: Santa Fe, New Mexico.

  Once the decision had been made, we couldn’t stop what we had to do even if we wanted to. The gravity of it, the force, drew us together like two planets on a collision course.

  Standing on a deserted street with stars sparkling overhead and a warm breeze on my face, I stepped into Reyes.

  My light spilled into his darkness, filling the void that was Rey’azikeen. Our molecules fused, becoming one. And then, in an instant, they separated. Expanded. Surged in all directions until we had created a haven over the city for our daughter to grow up in. Where we could watch her from the heavens. Where she’d be completely safe. Where nothing could touch her until the time came for her to make her mark on history.

  After we ascended, I looked on as Mrs. Loehr sang softly to Beep, rocking her until the chubby darling drifted to sleep. It was then that a thought struck me. I scanned the area we watched over. Then I scanned all of New Mexico. From there, I branched out and scanned the entire planet and then the entire universe.

  “Reyes?” I said as he nibbled on my ear. Metaphorically, as we were this huge incorporeal mass now.

  “Yes?” he said back, his voice still deep and still smooth and still able to weaken my nonexistent knees.

  Not wanting to cause a commotion unnecessarily, I looked again just to be sure.

  Then I nudged the god next to me and asked, “Where’s Osh?”

  Also by Darynda Jones

  The Trouble with Twelfth Grave

  Eleventh Grave in Moonlight

  The Curse of Tenth Grave

  The Dirt on Ninth Grave

  Eighth Grave After Dark

  Seventh Grave and No Body

  Sixth Grave on the Edge

  Death and the Girl He Loves

  Fifth Grave Past the Light

  Death, Doom, and Detention

  Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet

  Death and the Girl Next Door

  Third Grave Dead Ahead

  Second Grave on the Left

  First Grave on the Right

  About the Author

  New York Times and USA Today bestselling author DARYNDA JONES won a Golden Heart and a RITA for her manuscript First Grave on the Right. A born storyteller, she grew up spinning tales of dashing damsels and heroes in distress for any unfortunate soul who happened by, annoying man and beast alike. Darynda lives in the Land of Enchantment, also known as New Mexico, with her husband and two beautiful sons, the Mighty, Mighty Jones Boys.

  Visit Darynda at www.daryndajones.com, or sign up for email updates here.

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  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Also by Darynda Jones

  About the Author

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  SUMMONED TO THIRTEENTH GRAVE. Copyright © 2018 by Darynda Jones. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Av
enue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.stmartins.com

  Cover illustration by Herman Estevez

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Jones, Darynda, author.

  Title: Summoned to thirteenth grave / Darynda Jones.

  Description: First edition. | New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2019.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2018036267 | ISBN 9781250149411 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781250149435 (ebook)

  Subjects: LCSH: Davidson, Charley (Fictitious character)—Fiction. | Women private investigators—Fiction. | Women mediums—Fiction. | GSAFD: Occult fiction.

  Classification: LCC PS3610.O6236 S86 2019 | DDC 813/.6—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018036267

  e-ISBN 9781250149435

  Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by email at [email protected].

  First Edition: January 2019