Sixth Grave on the Edge

by Darynda Jones

  “How many people are going away?”

  His mouth thinned as he scanned his work. “All of them.”

  “This can’t happen, Rocket.”

  “You broke the rules, Miss Charlotte. You brought him back.”

  “Bullshit,” I said, getting angry with Rocket again.

  He took a wary step back as I drew in a deep breath, tried to keep hold of every ounce of calm I could muster. “I’m sorry, hon. I just don’t understand. How is Reyes supposed to cause the deaths of all these people?”

  “Not how,” he said, reverting back to his old standby. “Not when, only who.”

  He could only tell me who died. Not how or when or why. Only who.

  “No breaking rules,” he said, his voice now shaky.

  I narrowed my lids, the shards of anger that nipped along the edges of my psyche slicing through the barrier I’d put up and slid silently inside. “I make the rules, Rocket. How is Reyes supposed to cause the deaths of—” I glanced around. “—thousands of people?”

  “Not thousands, Miss Charlotte. Seven billion two hundred forty-eight million six hundred twenty thousand one hundred thirteen.”

  Stunned, I shook my head. “How?” I repeated through teeth that were now welded together. “That’s everyone on Earth, and that’s not possible. How?”

  He frowned and glanced down in thought. “Or one.”

  “What?” I said, blinking back to him.

  “Or one. If one dies, everyone lives.”

  “Who, Rocket? Reyes?”

  “No, Miss Charlotte. Not this time.”

  “Wait, I changed destiny, right? I brought Reyes back. But now someone else has to die?” When he nodded, I asked, “Who?”

  We’d been here before, and it did not end well. Rocket didn’t want to tell me, but he’d lost some of his innocence since our last encounter. He now knew better than to hold back.

  He swallowed hard and whispered, the word like brittle paper in the air, thin and so fragile, I was afraid it would crumble before it got to me. But it didn’t. It reverberated in my mind like a crash of thunder.

  He looked at me, his eyes round, and said again, “You, Miss Charlotte.”

  And there it was.

  24

  More caffeine!

  I’ve got lives to ruin!

  —T-SHIRT

  Reyes and I lay in our respective beds, our faces centimeters apart, our breaths meeting in the middle, caressing. Though it was past midnight, he’d just showered and smelled clean, his earthy scent rich beneath the sandalwood soap he’d used. His hair, still slightly damp, curled at his cheek and around his ear.

  I didn’t get much more out of Rocket, but if I had to die to save the world, so be it. Timing would be an issue, but I planned on enjoying every second I had left with my fiancé.

  “Want to come over to my place?” I asked him.

  The sparkle in his eyes danced in humor. “I don’t know,” he said. “You live so far away.”

  I squeaked as he reached up and slid me down the length of him, caressing my stomach with his mouth as I passed, searing my skin with each kiss. I kissed his stomach back before turning over and curling into his side.

  We settled onto his side of the beds. His was much more comfortable than mine anyway. I had no idea how different I’d feel after sleeping on a good mattress. I could totally get used to it.

  I had this amazing gift for living in denial. Until I died, I was going to live each day like I had a million more after that one. And that started here and now.

  “If we ever get divorced,” I said into his neck as I trailed kisses over his pulse points, “I’m taking you for every mattress you have. Fair warning. You might want to consider a prenup.”

  “Are you planning on divorcing me?”

  “Not at the moment, but I have a few movie-star crushes I’m still holding out hope for. If any of them call, you will be so yesterday.”

  “You know, it’s sad how many movie stars die unexpectedly.”

  I gasped and rose so I could gape at him. “You’d kill my crushes?”

  “Only the ones that hit on you.”

  “Fine.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll tell Brad to stop calling. He’s married, for God’s sake.”

  “That would be wise.” He nipped at my earlobe, causing a tingle to bolt through me.

  I pushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. “You bought me a new Jeep,” I said, noting that she’d been doing much better than before my run-in with Mr. Raving Lunatic two weeks prior.

  “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

  “I figured.”

  “Noni did the best he could, but to drive her without completely replacing the frame would have been dangerous. It would have cost more, and you would’ve still had problems in the long run.”

  I understood. “Thank you. It’s still Misery. I can feel her in spirit.”

  He patted my head like one would when consoling a child. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Dutch.”

  He made me giggle, but he still needed to be punished for his insolence, so I bit his shoulder. Hard. He sucked in a lungful of air and rolled on top of me. Brushing the hair out of my eyes, he said, “You know, they say that those who know the real name of the grim reaper hold power over him. Or, in this case, her.”

  I sobered, suddenly more interested in the conversation than in his delicious shoulders. “They say that?” I asked, wondering what real name he would be referring to.

  “Yes.”

  “And do you know my real name?”

  He propped his head on an elbow and stared down at me. “I do, in fact. I heard it whispered on the voice of every angel in heaven when they sent you.”

  “And?” I asked, hopeful. I knew so little about that part of myself.

  “You aren’t supposed to hear it until you pass.”

  “Pass? Like, away?” I asked, surprised. That could be much sooner than either of us had expected.

  “Yes. When you fully become the grim reaper.”

  “But you know it now, right? You could tell me.”

  He lowered his head. “I’m not sure what knowing it would do. Like I said, there is a power behind it.”

  “How can something as arbitrary as a name have power?”

  “Your real name is anything but arbitrary. Just remember something, Dutch. You are not of this world. You never will be. Your human existence is just a microsecond in your life. A necessary state of being to ground you on this plane. At first, I thought that was why my father wanted me to wait for you. You can’t just capture a reaper unless you can catch one in human form. There is simply no way to catch a portal otherwise. It’s like trying to grab hold of smoke.”

  “You said, at first.”

  “Yes. I’m with Swopes. I think Lucifer lied to me and to him. I think there’s more to it; I just don’t know what. Either way, you still have a job waiting for you after your corporeal being ceases to exist. A job that will last centuries.”

  “And knowing my name will make me more powerful?” I asked, perplexed.

  “Yes. It is part of your transformation. And since your family is so powerful, you even more so, I can’t imagine what knowing it would do.”

  “So why are you telling me this now?” I asked. I’d been begging for information like this from him for months.

  “I owe you,” he said, matter-of-fact.

  “You do? Cool. And just what do you owe me for?”

  The seriousness in his eyes hit me hard. “Because you said yes.”

  I blinked in surprise. “You think because I agreed to marry you, you owe me?”

  “You don’t realize what that means. You are literally royalty, born to the king and queen of your kind. Your marrying me will be like a beloved princess marrying a street urchin.”

  I snickered, but his expression remained severe.

  “But again, you are more special than any of your kind. More powerful. I’m beginning to understand you have a much higher purpo
se than I’d ever realized. For us to marry … let’s just say your celestial, for lack of a better word, family would not approve.”

  “I would love to know more about them,” I coaxed. When it became clear I wasn’t getting any more out of him where that was concerned, I pressed him about his own. “What about your family? Are you ever going to try to contact them? I still believe they would want to know you are alive and well.”

  “Perhaps. Just as your parents would you.”

  I rose onto my elbows. “What do you mean?”

  “Their sacrifice was a great one. Once one of their kind is sent, they lose all contact until the reaper’s physical form passes. They have no idea how you are doing, what your life has been like.”

  “Wow. Our parents are more similar than I thought. Do you remember being born?” I asked him out of the blue. I’d always wondered about how he came into the world, both in the supernatural realm, when created by his outcast father, and here on earth.

  “The memory of my human existence isn’t like yours. I remember bits and pieces.”

  “What about your creation? What about when Lucifer created you?”

  He lay back and rested an arm on his forehead. “That I remember well.”

  “Can you tell me about it?” I asked, resting my chin on his shoulder. He pulled me closer against his side.

  “I remember the pain of creation,” he said, his thoughts far away. “The heat of the fire. The color of my skin as it smoldered, as the muscle and tendon beneath it formed and solidified. I remember the being that created me—my father, as it were—and from the moment I took my first breath, I knew he had no love for what he’d created. He had dark machinations. He had a plan and I was a big part of it. But first I had to prove myself. And so the tests began.” He came back to me and kissed the tip of my nose. “My childhood was not the stuff of fairy tales.”

  “I would love to hear about it.”

  “Then you’re going to be disappointed. I can’t tell you.”

  “Why?”

  “Any love that you have in your heart for me would vanish.”

  “Reyes—”

  “Dutch,” he said, cutting me off. “Please do not ask that of me. It is a darkness I cannot share. I would lose you forever, and I’ve only ever wanted you. You are literally the light in my darkness, the redemption of my past. I waited centuries for you to be born on earth, for me to be able to bask in your glow. You are like a gravitational force that lures me closer with each breath you take.”

  I lay rather stunned.

  “Imagine a canvas bathed completely in black. Only black. There is no shape. No purpose other than to bring darkness. Then splash on a brilliant white. Add some reds and blues, some yellows and greens. Suddenly it has meaning. It has a reason to exist. That is what you have done to my world. You brought me purpose. Light and color to fill the void of oblivion. Without you, there is only the darkness.”

  I pulled him closer and kissed his neck. He ran his fingers through my hair.

  “That will be my gift to you on our wedding day.”

  I rose and regarded him with a questioning expression.

  “The name I caught on the air as you were being brought into this world. The angels all whispered it, each and every one, but only once. They are forbidden to mention it again until your passing. Then one angel will have the honor of telling you and only you. I’ve kept it safe, locked away. It will be my gift to you on our wedding day. The power behind it is immense. The light it holds.”

  “I— I don’t know what to say.”

  “I think we should work together.”

  “What?”

  His eyes glistened in amusement. “With the Twelve coming, I’ve decided to hire a manager for the bar and work with you full-time.”

  “Um.”

  “I know,” he said, ruffling my hair. “Your gratitude is all I need.”

  “Reyes—”

  “No arguments. It’s not safe to leave you alone anymore. If we work together, who will question it?”

  Wow, my partnerships were multiplying like bunnies on Viagra. I guess I could take on three partners: Aunt Lil, Garrett, and Reyes.

  We could be the Fearsome Foursome!

  Or not.

  “But I do have one question,” he said, patting my head to his chest to let me know he understood how grateful I was that he would deign to work with me. Such a nice, humble guy.

  I giggled under his playful arm and said, “Just one?”

  “For now. Why a spork?”

  It took me a moment to remember my response to the utensil question I’d asked him earlier. “Because!” I said, shocked he’d even ask. “Sporks multitask. They look unassuming, but pack a powerful purpose. Like a Swiss Army knife, only not quite that useful.”

  “Ah,” he said, nodding in understanding.

  “And it’s such a cool word. Who can resist a good sporking?”

  He laughed and was just about to kiss me when someone pounded on the door. Someone insane, apparently. Who would dare interrupt the son of Satan?

  Well, besides me.

  I tossed on Reyes’s robe and rushed to his door. Once there, I found a harried Garrett Swopes, but he was knocking on my door.

  The minute he saw me, he barreled forward, pushing past me to get inside. “I was wrong,” he said, handing me a stack of papers. “Sorry about the hour, but I was wrong about everything.”

  Cleary, he needed consoling. And I was just the woman for the job. “Swopes. We’re all wrong at some point in our lives. Can you say tie-dyed leg warmers? I used to live for those things. It was a dark time for me.”

  His pounding had awakened Cookie. I gestured her inside as well, trying not to giggle at her hair. Or the fact that she had on a green mineral mud mask. I was pretty sure she’d forgotten that fact.

  She shuffled inside sleepily, her bright pink bottoms gathered between her butt cheeks. I’d skip that enlightenment as well.

  When Garrett turned around, he took in her appearance and decided not to react. I knew I liked him for a reason. But only that one. No need to get crazy.

  Reyes came out then, but didn’t react as he took in his guests before heading to the kitchen. He put on a pot of coffee, knowing the late hour wouldn’t matter to Cookie and me, and took out two beers as I glanced over the papers Garrett had handed me. Reyes had caught on to the routine and took it like a man. God, I loved him.

  “You were wrong?” he asked Garrett.

  Garrett nodded, his expression grave as he glanced between the two of us.

  I looked up from the papers. “You’ve already told us all this,” I said. “It’s the prophecies from the von Holstein guy.”

  “No, A. von Holstein is the translator. He had a lot to wade through with the prophecies being written in a dead language and in code. I don’t blame him for getting anything wrong. I just misinterpreted his interpretation. Your new friend, the Dealer, has come in very handy.”

  “That’s good.” I sank onto Reyes’s sofa beside Cookie. She yawned, and I realized she must’ve had a late night with Uncle Bob. I was so not going there. I could only hope she’d put the mask on after the nightcap.

  Garrett paced the floor, deep in thought, taking periodic sips of the beer Reyes gave him.

  Reyes sat on the armrest beside me. “Coffee in two. Now, what did you get wrong this time?” he asked Garrett, badgering him just a little.

  I jabbed my fiancé with an elbow, then said, “Swopes, sit down.”

  “It’s about you, the daughter,” he said, his agitation growing. “At first Dr. von Holstein and I thought you were the daughter throughout the prophecies. All the prophecies. That you had to face Lucifer.”

  “Okay,” I said, trying not to drool as the scent of coffee brewing washed over my senses like baptismal water. I could face Reyes’s dad. I had to die soon anyway.

  “But there are two,” he continued. “Two distinct references. Two distinct time periods.”

  “I�
��m getting dizzy,” Cookie said as she watched him pace. She rubbed her forehead and I watched from my periphery as realization dawned. She brought her hand down slowly, her expression changing from one of exhausted but interested to one of utter horror. She sat in shock a few seconds, then slowly rose to her feet, glancing toward Reyes’s bathroom.

  It took every molecule of self-control I possessed not to giggle. Not in a mean way. Well, kind of mean. I wasn’t so much laughing at her but with her. Only on the inside, because I didn’t want to be backhanded.

  Before she took two steps that way, another pounding sounded at the door. Our eyes met and our thoughts merged. Amber was alone. Did she wake up and get scared?

  We both bounded for the door, but Reyes still beat us. Freaking supernatural beings.

  But when he opened the door, a group of nuns stood before him. Which was unusual, especially considering the hour.

  “Is the church collecting door-to-door now?” I asked as I hobbled forward to stand beside my man. My abstinent friends were dressed fairly normally, the veils on their heads the only giveaway that they were nuns. They parted to let a couple of them through, revealing the fact that they were practically carrying one of my besties, Sister Mary Elizabeth. She was almost limp in their arms, her forehead shimmering with a fine sheen of sweat, her eyes heavy-lidded, her gaze distant.

  I rushed forward to help. Garrett did the same and we dragged the sister into Reyes’s apartment. Once everyone was inside, Reyes shut the door behind us. Sister Mary Elizabeth dropped to her knees, clutched her head, and whimpered, insisting there were too many. Far too many.

  “She’s been like this for a couple of hours,” the mother superior said, her demeanor far less intimidating than usual in the simple dress and short veil. She knelt beside us.

  Another spoke up then. A Sister Theresa, if I wasn’t mistaken. “She was screaming at first.”

  “Yes,” the mother superior agreed, petting Mary Elizabeth’s hair. It was the first time I’d seen it uncovered, and it was shorter than I thought it would be. Cut into a simple bob, it had clearly seen better days. It hung in matted clumps as though she just woke up and had been pulling at it in her sleep. The thick clumps entangled in her fingers confirmed that suspicion.