But still, Elaine Oake?
“And we need to get home before the new sponsors show up,” she added. “They’re very eager to meet you.”
I almost fainted. Home? He was living with her? The depths of my astonishment seemed to know no bounds. I was lost for a moment, reeling as each new discovery sank in.
Reyes examined my face, watching every move, every reaction.
“Can you give us a minute?” he asked, and I wasn’t sure which one of us he was talking to. Wasn’t sure if I cared.
“O-okay,” Elaine said. She strolled off slowly, as if it took every ounce of strength she possessed to do so.
“You’re living with her?” I asked under my breath. “Do you have any idea who she is?”
“Yes.” He waited a moment, then added, “And yes.”
A soft laugh of astonishment escaped before I could stop it. I turned to leave, but he took hold of the table and blocked my path. I shot a look toward Elaine. She’d stopped just past the wall of lockers and didn’t miss the maneuver. And I didn’t miss the hurt in her eyes.
Welcome to the world of Reyes Farrow.
“You need to move,” I told him.
“You didn’t answer me. What would you like me to do with this body you insist I keep?”
I raised a hateful glare at him. “Send it back to hell.”
His smile was like a hot poker in my stomach. Was he enjoying this? My bewilderment? My pain? “Can’t do that when there’s so much to entertain me here on Earth.”
“Entertainment? Is that what I am to you?”
A man walked into the room. His trainer. “You’re on.”
“Well?” Reyes asked again, still waiting for a legitimate answer.
This was getting ridiculous. I noticed Elaine just outside the door, looking in, her brows crinkled in concern. “Your girlfriend is fretting,” I said, trying to change the subject.
“Jealous?”
“Not in the least.”
“’Cause you seem jealous.”
“I’m not jealous. I just can’t believe—”
“My abs?”
My stomach flip-flopped. I took a calming breath, and said, “Your taste.”
“My taste is just fine.” He lifted my chin with a taped hand. “You don’t want me around, so why do you care anyway?”
“I don’t.”
“Then why are you here?”
“You owe me for my services.”
“Aw, so all those times I saved your life?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “Bill me.”
He leaned in and whispered, “I would rather fuck you.”
“I would rather you let go.”
“But you haven’t answered my question.” He put his mouth at my ear, his breath fanning over it, down my neck, and spilling onto my shoulder in an intoxicating wave of delight. “What do you want me to do with my body, Dutch?”
After a solid minute, I said, “Take it to go see your sister.”
Mentioning his beloved sister was like throwing ice water in his face. He cooled instantly, his body tense, rigid.
“You’re on,” the trainer said more forcefully. “Get out there and—”
When Reyes turned on him like a cobra ready to strike, the man stepped back. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he raised his hands in surrender. “We’re going to lose this spot if you don’t get out there. That’s all I’m saying.”
Reyes seemed to calm. He turned to me, wrapped his fingers into my collar, and pulled me forward until his mouth was only centimeters from mine. “Go home.” He let go with a soft shove, and I swatted at his hand in response. But he was already headed for the door.
Go home, my left ass cheek.
6
Why kill them with kindness when you can use an axe?
—T-SHIRT
I stood in a less crowded area of the warehouse, still dumbfounded. He was living with her? That woman? That stalker? To say that I was astonished would have been the biggest understatement since “Houston, we have a problem.” I was thunderstruck.
But holy cow, he was living with her? My jealously seemed endless, and I hated it. I would rather be attacked by rabid fire ants than be jealous. The superfluous emotion was a combination of fear, rage, humiliation, and insecurity. I looked down at the expanse of girl parts I carried on my chest, also known as Danger and Will Robinson. Clearly, I had no reason to be insecure.
As much as I did not want to see Reyes fight again, I sidled into a dark corner to do that very thing. He wouldn’t be able to see me from here and get his panties in a twist. Thankfully, the platform was high enough for me to see the action over the crush of spectators. But I stepped onto a cement pylon a metal beam was bolted to, wrapped my arms around the beam, and searched for Reyes.
He’d been talking with his trainer and turned to go into the cage, but after walking up the first step, he paused. Looked down. Took a deep breath. Then placed a pointed stare right on me. I scooted farther into the corner. How could he possibly see me? Maybe he was looking at someone else. He tilted his head before lifting a long arm and pointing to the exit behind me.
In one choreographed wave, the sea of heads turned to investigate. I turned, too, so they wouldn’t know he was talking to me. When I looked back, he’d crossed his arms over his chest and glared. I jumped off the pylon and crossed my arms, too. Only mine were crossed in defiance. If he wanted me out so bad, he could come drag me out himself.
Wait, no, that probably wasn’t a good idea.
Before I could decide what to do, the crowd started to cheer again as Reyes’s opponent appeared out of the rooms opposite him. Reyes shifted his focus when the guy emerged on the stairs. I could see why. He was even bigger than the last, more muscular. Reyes was a big guy, but he was lean, solid, built for speed just as much as for strength. This guy was all strength. He looked more like a professional bodybuilder than like a fighter. And as awesome as Reyes’s reach was, this guy’s had to be at least four inches longer.
My heart jumped and lodged in my throat at the sight of him. I knew Reyes was a supernatural being, but he was wounded and this guy was huge. I took a step forward as he entered the cage. But Reyes stayed on the stairs outside his entrance. Watching. Studying. He’d dropped his arms and dropped his head and stood eyeing the guy from underneath his lashes as though he were waiting for something. But what?
The crowd fell silent as they waited with bated breath. The opponent had stopped dead in his tracks and was staring back at Reyes. Then he frowned and looked down as though confused. That’s when I saw it: A blur in his movements. A disturbance in his aura. He shook his head as though to clear it. A heartbeat later, his eyes were locked on to mine. They widened in surprise as recognition flashed across his face. I had no idea why. I’d never seen the guy. But when he let out an animalistic shriek, fear rocketed down my spine and across my skin.
I stumbled back as the guy ignored the exit gates and bounded over the cage with the speed and grace of an animal. A huge animal with a deep-seated hatred twisting his features. I tried to slow the world, to stop his progress—I’d done it in the past, before the Earl Walker incident—but it wouldn’t happen. I couldn’t control anything, including the raging beat of my pulse in my ears.
Somewhere in my periphery, I noticed Reyes as he tried to intercept him. He’d scaled the cage in one leap and launched himself into the air, missing the guy by inches. He reached back, grabbed the top of the cage, executed a magnificent turn in midair, and launched himself again. The cage walls buckled under the pressure of his weight and the force it must have taken him to catapult himself into the crowd.
Then he disappeared behind the opponent. The hulking fighter landed only a few yards away from me and barreled forward, pummeling anyone who stood in his way like a battering ram, his face a mask of furious determination.
And I didn’t even know the guy.
I tried to turn and run. With every ounce of strength I had, I tried to f
orce my feet to head in the opposite direction, but I could only stare. Watch as he got closer and closer. Drool rolled out of his shrieking mouth like the foam of a rabid dog. He wanted me dead. And he craved my death like addicts craved their next high. I could feel it. In one caustic blast, his murderous intentions hit me a microsecond before he did.
He slammed into me with the force of a freight train, knocking me senseless, but he had only enough time to send me crashing against the wall behind me before he went down. Probably because an equally angry Reyes was on his back. He tackled the guy to the floor, wrenching a loud scream from the guy’s throat as he tried to shake Reyes off. Still, the guy kept coming forward. Kept fighting and crawling and inching toward me as I pressed against the wall, stewing in my own bewilderment. And agony. My head had whipped back when I hit, and a startlingly sharp jolt of pain ripped through me like a tornado hell-bent on eating half of Barbara, my brain.
Faced with such bizarre and violent behavior, the crowd panicked. Several were hurt the moment the guy landed, but more were getting hurt in the crush of bodies, some trying to get out, some angling for a better look. Screams and shouts erupted and grew louder and louder as the guy did everything in his power to get to me.
“Go!”
I looked at Reyes. Keeping the man subdued was taking all his strength, and that’s when I knew the guy could not possibly be human. Or at least not all human.
He fought for a better hold and wrapped the guy in a headlock before offering me another glare. “Charley, for fuck’s sake, go!” he shouted through clenched teeth.
I scrambled to my feet as the guy elbowed Reyes’s jaw, loosening his hold just enough to gain another six inches. He refocused on me, his face contorted with a hateful sneer, saliva bubbling out of his mouth, blood gushing from his nose, but his only goal was to get to me. He clawed forward, his nails scraping on the cement floor, breaking as he fought for ground.
The chaos around me took on a life of its own. It rose to a cacophonic frenzy. Screams echoed from all corners of the warehouse as the spectators ran for the doors. I doubted any one of them even knew what they were running from at that point. People were screaming. People were running. And that was good enough for them. They followed suit only because not to do so would be detrimental to their health. They simply had no choice.
I’d started for the door when I noticed a kid in a Slipknot hoodie. He fell and would be trampled in a matter of seconds if no one went to his aid. I tried to rush forward, but the throngs of frenzied spectators pushed me back. I lost sight of the kid altogether.
Then I heard another growl. I had to turn back, to check on Reyes. The man had made some headway. He was once again only a few feet from me. As I placed one foot behind the other, unable to take my eyes off Reyes and the Hulk, a darkness emerged from him, the opponent, the crazy guy clawing toward me with a rabid fervor. For a split second, another head emerged out of his own. As black and dark as the outermost fringes of the universe. Teeth sharp as an obsidian razor and honed to a needlelike point. Then the beast was back inside him and I realized what I was looking at. A demon.
No. I stepped back again. No. A man possessed by a demon. I’d seen demons before when they’d tortured Reyes. Their spiderlike bodies. Their sinewy limbs that bent and twisted at unnatural angles. Their eyeless heads that consisted of teeth, teeth, and more teeth. And one was inside this man. He quaked with a fierce, animalistic need to rip me to shreds. He wanted me so badly, the hunger of it radiated toward me.
He gave one last, valiant effort to shake Reyes off, but Reyes was too strong. He wrestled him to the ground, and in one sharp move, he twisted the man’s head to the side and broke his neck. The surreal crack that followed, the unorthodox angle of his neck, the life draining out of him in seconds flat, caused another gallon of adrenaline to dump down my spine. And his smell, like rotten eggs, assaulted my senses.
A wave of nausea swept over me. I glanced around, tried to steady myself and to see who had witnessed Reyes break a man’s neck. The warehouse was almost empty now. A few stragglers stood in the shadows, mostly the bouncers and a couple other workers, their faces frozen in shock as they took in the dead guy.
Then Reyes was up. He grabbed my jacket and jerked me to attention. “What is it going to take to get you to listen to me?”
The colossal adrenaline dump that had overloaded my system now needed a place to go. With every ounce of strength I had, I pushed him off, rushed to the wall, and emptied the contents of my stomach onto the concrete foundation.
It was weird. I’d never had that kind of reaction to being attacked. I was usually much more composed. Or if not composed, vertical at least. But this time, I could barely stand. The world spun around me as my stomach heaved violently. That would explain the shaking and why I had an inexplicable compulsion to double over. But why? Why now? Why this guy?
Reyes didn’t give me time to finish, to catch my breath. He grabbed the back of my jacket again and dragged me toward the door. I thought about fighting him, but that would take an energy I just didn’t seem to possess. I felt like a rag doll in his grasp, my limbs hanging at my side, limp and useless. So I argued instead. I always had the energy to argue.
I wiped my mouth on my sleeve, swallowing back another lurch of my stomach, and said in a muffled voice, “Let me go.”
He didn’t. He continued to drag me across the floor like a used mop. I felt his manhandling unnecessary and uncalled for, but fighting to keep bile down was taking all my mental energy.
I managed a few words between a heave and a swallow. “What was that?”
I knew, of course, but it was just too unreal. Too horrible for me to fully absorb. I had no idea humans could really be possessed. Figured it was just a movie device to cause goose bumps and nightmares. Or something preachers said to keep their parishioners in line.
But that man had been possessed, sure as I was standing there. Or, well, being dragged across the floor there.
We were halfway to the door when Reyes whipped me around to face him, clutching my shoulders in a death grip, his expression more angry than, say, understanding. So, naturally, I got annoyed. I’d just barfed. Did he have no sense of decency? Sadly, I could do nothing about it at the moment. I swallowed again and tried to push at his arms.
“Get in that Jeep of yours and get out of here, or I swear by all that is holy—”
While I was totally into the conversation and had every intention of listening to his seven thousandth threat, certain I’d take it to heart, I heard another crack. It was quickly followed by a guttural moan. Then another crack. And another moan that seemed more like the screech of a wounded owl.
I looked to my left, to where Reyes’s opponent lay dead. Only he wasn’t dead. He was up on all fours, craning his neck from side to side as though popping it after a long night’s sleep. Blackness swirled around him again as though the demon inside him had a hard time staying within the confines of the physical body it inhabited.
Reyes jerked me forward until his face was inches from my own. “Leave.”
Then it leapt. Like a tiger in the tall grasses of India, the man launched himself toward us. Toward me. Reyes pushed me down so hard, my head bounced, this time off the cement foundation. But the stars that followed were upstaged by one thing. As Reyes stepped protectively in front of me, tensed, readying himself for the attack, another growl, deep and guttural, echoed from the deepest corners of the universe.
With a ferocious snarl, Artemis jumped out of nowhere and ripped through the guy as he leapt forward. His physical body drifted forward, then landed with a hard thud, skidding across the floor, while the demon shrieked and writhed beside it under the attack of my guardian. Its teeth clamped down on Artemis’s neck. Its claws swiped at her back. She let out a yelp, but kept at it, her head shaking the agonized demon, her teeth tearing until a blackness, like a gaseous blood, seeped out, crept along the floor, then dissipated just like the demon itself.
I spared a q
uick glance at my attacker. No doubt about it this time. The man was dead. His eyes stared at nothing, fixed and lifeless.
Then Artemis turned toward me, lowered her head, bared her fangs, and let another guttural growl rumble out of her chest. And I thought we were friends. But Reyes had turned around as well, and damned if he didn’t do the same. I got that feeling of insecurity, like when I had something stuck in my teeth. Only they were looking over me, just past my head.
That’s when I felt the cold desolation of hatred at the back of my neck, and I knew there was another one. I looked up and into the vacant eyes of the boy in the Slipknot hoodie. He was much smaller than the Hulk, but his curious determination, and the saliva dripping off his chin, was no less scary. Just as he pitched toward me, Artemis shot across the floor and bolted straight through him like a dart. She tore the demon out of him and proceeded to maul the thing to its smoky death.
The boy dropped the second the demon left him. He curled into a ball, and that’s when recognition hit. It was the kid from my backseat. The kid I thought was dead. His blond hair was matted and dirty. His blue eyes somehow darker. Had the demon occupying his body sent his soul somewhere else? Maybe there wasn’t room for the both of them.
I blinked in startled realization until Reyes lifted me off the ground. Again. Being manhandled by the son of Satan was getting old, but I was too weak to do much about it. He started dragging me toward the door once more.
“Wait,” I said, fighting his hold. “Get the boy.”
“No.”
With a jolt of stubbornness, I twisted and jerked out of Reyes’s grip. He stopped and glared.
“Fine. Glare, glower, scowl, I don’t care, but I am not leaving this warehouse without that kid.” When Reyes crossed his arms over his chest, I continued. “He was possessed. An innocent boy.”
Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet Page 8