Summoned to Thirteenth Grave

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Summoned to Thirteenth Grave Page 11

by Darynda Jones


  “Aunt Lil?” I asked, repositioning Artemis’s paw and rubbing my eyes.

  “Hey, pumpkin head. What’s going on?”

  When I tried to rise, Artemis groaned and Reyes tightened his hold. I looked back at him to ascertain his state of alertness.

  Eyes closed? Check.

  Breathing deep? Check.

  Serene expression of slumber? Nope.

  In its place, he wore an agonizingly adorable smirk.

  “We have company,” I said, running a finger down the perfect bridge of his nose.

  “No.”

  I giggled. “That wasn’t really a question.”

  “No, anyway.”

  “Are you still with that hottie from hell?” Aunt Lil asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Damn. I’ve seen that boy naked.” She wiggled her brows. “He’s a keeper.”

  Reyes threw an arm over his face, embarrassed, and rolled over, taking me with him and almost ejecting Artemis from her throne, but she shifted her weight and settled it crossways over both of us.

  I disentangled myself from Reyes’s hold, which was harder than it sounded since he was fighting to keep me close. Then I wiggled out from under Artemis and jumped up before embarking on a Lord of the Rings–like quest for my underwear.

  “Have you seen a pair of undies?” I asked Aunt Lil.

  “Nope. I don’t wear the things. I prefer things au naturel, if you know what I mean. Get some air down there.”

  I had a fight another giggle. “Thanks, Aunt Lil, I do.”

  Aunt Lillian—an elderly great-aunt, to be exact—died in the sixties at a hippie commune, wearing a floral muumuu and a killer set of love beads. Her bluish hair, combined with her departed state of well-being, practically glowed.

  Because she died before I was born, I hadn’t known her when she was alive, but she’d been there for me growing up. She never failed to offer colorful, if not overly sage, advice. And I could definitely use some now.

  “What’s with all the demons in your apartment?”

  “You went to our apartment?” I asked, alarmed. “Ah. Found a pair.” I pulled on Reyes’s boxers. They slipped low on my hips, but they’d work for the time being. Now to salvage the reputations of Danger and Will. I began the quest anew. If I were a bra …

  “Sure did.”

  “Did they bother you? The demons?” I was worried about Angel. He hadn’t checked in. I didn’t know if the Shade demons would go after a departed or not. Either way, I shouldn’t have risked him.

  “Not me, pumpkin. They know better.”

  I chuckled. “I’m sure they do. Where have you been, anyway?”

  “Took a little vacay. Decided to visit the churches in Britain and met this vicar with killer abs.”

  “Aunt Lil!” I gaped at her. “A vicar?” Giving up on the bra, I pulled on Reyes’s T-shirt and sat back on the cot next to him. He snaked an arm around my waist and buried his face against my hip.

  “With killer abs,” she repeated as though I were daft.

  “Oh, right. Okay, then.”

  “You gonna get to the part where you tell me why you have a crap ton of demons living it up in your apartment?”

  “We accidently opened a hell dimension.”

  “Oh. I once accidently opened a god dose of LSD. Two words: never again. Still, I don’t think you should have done that.”

  “I agree. Do you know anything about how my mother died?”

  “Died in childbirth. Can you blame her? Giving birth to a god and the grim reaper in one shot?”

  I sucked in a soft breath as the thinly disguised truth of her statement sank in. “Was that it, Aunt Lil? Was that what killed her?”

  “Heavens, no. God wouldn’t have sent you to her if you were going to kill her.”

  “Then she didn’t die because of me?”

  “Well, now, I didn’t say that. I just said He knew your mother could handle it. Sometimes these things just happen. Childbirth is never a for-sure thing, sweet cheeks.”

  I bit back my uncertainty and changed direction. “What about Uncle Bob?”

  She cackled in delight. “I always liked that boy.”

  “I know, but do you think he would know anything about Mom’s death? Do you think he could’ve covered something up?”

  The astonishment on her face pretty much said it all. “Pumpkin, where is this coming from?”

  “I was told to find out what happened to Mom. That somehow it will help us close this hell dimension.”

  Her face brightened. “That’s exciting, eh?”

  “I suppose.”

  “All right, I just wanted to check up on you. The vicar’s waiting.”

  So much for the sage-ish advice. “You’re meeting him now?”

  “No time like the present. I’m not getting any younger. Neither are you.” She gestured toward Reyes and wriggled her brows again.

  “Thanks for stopping by, Aunt Lil.”

  She leaned in so I could hug her, her cool essence a stark contrast to Reyes’s warmth. “Aw, pumpkin butt, don’t be so down in the dumps.” She straightened and winked. “You just have to listen.”

  “What?” I asked, but she’d vanished.

  I could’ve summoned her back, but I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt she’d only get more cryptic the longer we talked. The departed did that.

  “She’s a character,” Reyes said into my hip.

  “Yes, she—” I stilled when felt a ripple in the air around me. A dissonance. “Do you feel that?”

  He stopped breathing for a moment, and then we both jumped off the cot, leaving poor Artemis to fend for herself.

  I rushed downstairs, but since I’d stolen Reyes’s underwear and T-shirt, it took him a few seconds to throw something on. Still, by the time I got to the front door, he was right on my heels, barefoot but in jeans and a black tee.

  The visitor only knocked once before throwing open the door. Three men stood on the threshold of our humble abode. Three bikers. Each more handsome every time I saw them, but only two of them were standing. The other one was more slumped over the other two, the demon inside him weighing him down.

  “Eric,” I said, surprised as Donovan and the non-archangel Michael carried their fellow bike lover inside. “Here.” I showed them to the sofa.

  They eased him onto it, his legs hanging over the arm of the couch, then turned to me.

  “Charley Davidson,” Donovan said, giving me his full attention, a sensuous grin on his face, “as I live and breathe.”

  Donovan, Michael, and Eric had been members of the Bandits, a motorcycle club here in Albuquerque. We’d become acquainted through a little mishap that might have involved me breaking and entering into Rocket’s abandoned asylum, which they owned at the time, and their Rottweilers who guarded said asylum.

  After a few insults were thrown around for good measure, I’d grown to love the boys and, more importantly, their Rottweiler, Artemis. She died soon after I met her. Someone had poisoned her, and Donovan had insisted—with the threat of violence, of course—that I find out who had done such a despicable deed.

  But what he didn’t know was that Artemis, to my surprise and everlasting joy, became my guardian. She’d been by my side through countless confrontations, and Donovan never knew.

  Even crazier was the fact that the boys became guardians of Beep. They were now part of her human crew, which begged the question, why were they here when they should be guarding my daughter?

  Donovan, scruffy as ever and sexy as hell, pulled me into a warm embrace. “How have you been, love?”

  “Good.” I squeezed hard and breathed in the scent of motor oil and aftershave. “Better now.”

  He chuckled and let Michael give me a hug. I always thought of Michael as the mafioso of the group. A little heavier than the other two, and he had a gait that encompassed all things swagger and a mischievous grin that kept me wondering exactly what was going on behind those killer blues.

  I knelt nex
t to Eric. The prince, I called him. Tall, dark, with Grecian good looks and a slim, muscular frame, he was the stuff of romance-novel dreams.

  Donovan came to stand beside me. “We think he’s infected.”

  I pushed back of lock of his dark hair. “He is.”

  “Son of a bitch.” He sank into a chair. “This is a supernatural thing, right? Your area of expertise? So, you can cure him.”

  I glanced at Reyes, pleaded without saying a word. There had to be something we could do.

  Reyes frowned in thought.

  “What are you guys doing here?” I asked, changing the subject while Reyes came up with a plan. “I thought you were with Beep.”

  Donovan gestured toward my husband. “Your ball and chain was going to fly us out yesterday, but Eric wanted to get his grandmother. It took a little more convincing than he thought it would, and by the time we got her packed, he just—”

  “—went crazy,” Michael finished for him.

  I turned back to the topic of conversation. “He’s out cold. Did you give him something?”

  “Rohypnol.”

  “You roofied him?”

  One corner of his mouth twitched, unapologetic.

  “Wait, why do you even have Rohypnol?”

  The other corner joined in.

  “What is this?” Michael asked, growing agitated. “What’s going on?”

  I couldn’t bring myself to go into detail again, so I gave them the CliffsNotes and let that sink in for a bit while I pulled Reyes aside.

  “We changed something,” I said, whispering as we stood in a corner. “This isn’t supposed to happen.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I saw them. At the convent, I saw Beep’s army. The vastness. The devotion. And I saw the major players, these three guys being among them. They’re destined to be her guardians.”

  “It doesn’t mean it won’t still happen.”

  “The last time we tried to get one of these things out of a human—”

  “It ended badly, I know. But that one had been nesting awhile. I think there are stages to this and Eric is still in an early stage.”

  That sounded promising. “Okay. So what do we do?”

  “What we’ve always done. Maybe it’s early enough that it’ll work this time.”

  I tried to force my heart, a.k.a. Betty White, to slow her erratic beating. If Betty panicked, I panicked. Or vice versa. Either way. “We have to try. I know my light won’t kill them, but maybe it’ll weaken it enough to help with the extraction.”

  He raised his brows in agreement. “It’s worth a shot.”

  After Reyes and I formulated a plan, we sat the boys down and gave them the facts. “Like we said, he has a demon inside of him. Normally, getting one out is not that big a deal, but these demons? They’re different.”

  “Different how?” Donovan asked.

  “They were created for a specific purpose with certain safeguards weaved into their DNA.”

  “What kind of safeguards?” he asked, growing warier.

  “They were made to withstand the effects of my light, for one.”

  Michael quirked a brow because that’s what Michael did. “Your light?”

  Surprising me with his careful concern, Reyes sank to his knees in front of them, his powerful legs easily balancing his weight. With a gentle edge in his voice, he said, “We can try to get it out, but it could kill him. You have to decide.”

  After a long pause, Donovan asked, “What will happen if we don’t get it out?”

  Reyes pressed his lips together. “It will kill him. Eventually. We’re not certain how long it takes, but there have already been a handful of deaths with dozens more on the way if we don’t stop this.”

  Donovan and Michael exchanged worried glances. After a moment, Donovan nodded. “Do it.”

  Reyes stood, and I took my turn to kneel in front of them. I put my elbows on Donovan’s knees and gazed up at him. “There’s something I never told you,” I said to Donovan.

  He flashed me that sensuous grin of his. “You want to run away with me?”

  I shook my head, squelching a grin. Only he could turn such a dire situation into a reason to flirt. “Besides that.”

  “Then I’m sure you had good reason.”

  He had no idea. “I have a guardian. Kind of like you guys watch over Beep? She watches over me.”

  “Okay,” he said, his glistening gaze studying my mouth. He was such a rascal.

  I swallowed and charged forward. “I want you to see her.”

  He lifted one corner of his mouth. “Absolutely.”

  “In order for that to happen, I need to peel back the veil that separates the earthly plane from the supernatural one.”

  “Sweetheart,” he said, leaning down until we were nose to nose, “I trust you completely.”

  “Thank you. What about you, Michael?”

  “I think I’ll just stick to this plane. I was never one for flying, anyway.”

  I laughed softly, took Donovan’s hand, and led him closer to the sofa. We sat on a makeshift coffee table together.

  “Let me know when you’re ready,” I said to Reyes.

  He offered a curt nod, ready to go, so I tightened my hold on Donovan’s hand and pulled him into the celestial realm. He filled his lungs with nonexistent air, his eyes wide, full of wonder and a bit of horror as he scanned the volatile realm.

  “This is another plane, a celestial plane. Reyes and I can exist on a trillion different planes, but we exist mainly on our worldly plane and this one.” Knowing what was about to happen, I couldn’t hold back the barest remnant of a smile. “As does someone else you know.”

  When he finally wrenched his gaze away and looked at me, I lowered my palm toward the ground and summoned her. Artemis rose from the earth, her big head pushing up into my hand.

  I rubbed her ears, but Artemis’s first mission took precedence. She growled viciously at the demon, snarling and snapping her teeth. Then, as if she’d felt him beside her, she turned and saw Donovan.

  And she attacked.

  Her tiny tail wagged at the speed of light as she whimpered and clawed at her former owner, trying to coerce him to pet her.

  Donovan, shocked to the core, gaped at her a solid minute before finally reaching out and putting his hand on her head. She leaped into his lap, knocking him off balance, but he recovered quickly.

  Her jubilance infected all three of us. Even Reyes cracked a grin, something he didn’t do that often in Donovan’s presence.

  “I can pet her,” he said, astonished. “She’s real.”

  “She’s most definitely real. She’s saved my ass enough times for me to know that.”

  He buried his face in her fur, and she yelped with excitement. Then, just as suddenly, she let loose a low, guttural growl, her primary assignment coming to the forefront when the demon inside Eric started to writhe. As though it sensed what we were about to do, Artemis jumped off Donovan and crouched low to the floor, every muscle at the ready, waiting to pounce.

  Reyes signaled with a nod.

  I placed my hand on Eric’s torso, steadied my nerves, and pushed my light inside him.

  It didn’t take long for Donovan to see the monster that had taken up residence inside one of his best friends. He jerked back, and I almost lost my grip on his hand.

  Thankfully, I managed to keep hold of him and keep my other on Eric’s chest. I knew if I lost Donovan now, he’d only want back on this plane. He’d want to see what was happening to the man who was like a brother to him.

  The demon didn’t like what I was doing. It bucked and kicked and clawed, not weakening in the least. I shook my head at Reyes. “It’s not working.”

  “Then it’s the old-fashioned way.”

  I pulled back my hand and whispered, “Artemis.”

  She shot forward and attacked. Sinking her teeth into the demon’s head, she locked her jaws and dragged it out of Eric with a ferocious growl. As though it were a
rag doll, she shook it, mauling it violently.

  This demon, like the last one, was strong. It clamped a hand around her throat and squeezed. But she astonished all of us when she simply dematerialized out of its grip and went back for more. Every time the demon got ahold of her, she did the same thing, slipping through its grasp over and over, then going back with canines bared.

  After a few moments, she went for its body, tearing into its stomach. Reyes grabbed its head and, just like before, he twisted and jerked, ripping the head clean off.

  Like a mental patient with multiple personalities, Artemis switched from vicious protector to affectionate friend in the time it took for my heart to beat. Her stubby tail practically vibrated as she pranced back to Donovan with the tattered remnants of a Shade demon in her mouth. An offering only a celestial guardian could appreciate.

  He sat stunned, not sure what to think, not sure what to believe. Finally, he reached over and drew her to him, cradling her head, Shade demon or not. But the battle hadn’t been won yet. We had to see about Eric.

  I gave Donovan a few more seconds with her, then let go. He shifted back onto the earthly plane, as did I. She could still see him, but he couldn’t see her. He sat in a state of shock while I checked Eric for a pulse.

  Feeling the faintest whisper of a heartbeat, I beamed at Reyes. “He’s alive. He made it.”

  He let out the breath he’d been holding. “Let’s hope he’s still sane.”

  “He wasn’t that sane to begin with,” Michael said. He now stood at the far end of the room. Far, far away from us.

  I could hardly blame him. I’d stand as far away from me as I could, too.

  Donovan turned to him, his face still the picture of astonishment. “I feel like I just dropped acid.”

  “Which is why I stayed over here. I did acid once. That is a trip I never want to take again.”

  11

  I’m not much on seizing the day.

  I’m more of a “poke it with a stick” kind of girl.

  —T-SHIRT

  Reyes made breakfast as Eric slowly regained consciousness. Very slowly.

  After placing a warm cloth on his forehead, I patted his cheek and asked Donovan, “How much Rohypnol did you give him?”

  “I looked up the legal dose and gave him that.”

 

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