The Graveyard Shift: A Charley Davidson Novella

by Darynda Jones

  “You gave me ice cream even though Grandma and Grandpa don’t let me eat sugar.”

  “They don’t let you eat sugar?” she asked, mortified.

  “Not unless I’m mortally wounded. And you let me stay up watching scary movies. Grandma and Grandpa never let me watch scary movies, though they might now that I’m older.”

  “Oh, my God. They are never going to let me keep you again.”

  “And you listened to me. Really listened. You never treated me like…like she-shu.”

  “Well, I try not to treat anyone like she-shu. It’s rude.”

  Elwyn laughed. “You always treated me as an equal.”

  She sat back and looked into her eyes. “That’s where you’re wrong, beautiful. I am nowhere near your equal.”

  “You think you are lower? You think you’re she-shu?”

  “Of course, I am. You are destined for such greatness. No one on this planet is your equal.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “Know what, love?”

  Elwyn cleared her throat and handed her the glass. “Drink.”

  “If I do, will you make Zaire your special blueberry oatmeal for breakfast?”

  She giggled. “Yes.”

  Marika glanced at Garrett, and she had the sneaking suspicion that he knew about her illness. Her pulse quickened as she lifted the glass to her lips, but she stopped and asked, “Elwyn, will this do what it did for the hellhounds? Will this…?” She couldn’t say the words, and her hand began shaking.

  “Yes,” Elwyn said, pushing it to Marika’s lips.

  She squeezed her lids shut and downed it in two huge gulps. Then she put a hand to her mouth, a familiar sting in the backs of her eyes. Was this really happening? No months of chemo? Of nausea or fatigue or hair loss? No twelve percent?

  Elwyn leaned in and whispered, “You are destined for great things, too.”

  Garrett took the glass and looked at Elwyn. “Now you just need to convince her to marry me.”

  “I’ve tried, but you’re a hard sell. Maybe you should take up salsa dancing. You know, pad your resume.”

  He laughed softly and shook his head. “You vanished when you were five and have been away for almost a decade on some interdimensional walkabout. How do you even know what pad your resume means?”

  “The Golden Girls.”

  “The Golden Girls?”

  “Yes, The Golden Girls. Everything you need to know about life is on The Golden Girls, and you watched that show religiously. I couldn’t help but pick up some pointers.”

  “Oh, yeah. That explains a lot.”

  Marika elbowed the man beside her. “Let me get this straight. You’ve recruited Elwyn to try and convince me to marry you?”

  “You left me no choice.”

  She gave him her best deadpan, then said to Elwyn, “He doesn’t want to marry me. He just feels guilty for making me cry the other night.”

  “He does, actually,” she said. “When I touch someone like this”—she pushed her fingertips against his forehead—“I can tell if they are lying. He’s definitely not lying.”

  “Wait, for real?” Garrett asked. “You can do that?”

  “Yep. I know my mom could just kind of feel it, but I have to actually touch a person to know. I don’t have to touch their forehead like this.” She pressed again. “But it’s funny.”

  “You’re a riot,” Garrett said.

  “Okay, then.” Marika grabbed her phone and started scrolling.

  “What are you looking up?” Elwyn asked.

  “The justice of the peace. We are doing this now before he changes his mind.”

  * * * *

  Garrett looked at the sign again. There was a new coffee shop in town, and he just happened to know the proprietors. Nice couple. The wife was a tad unstable, the husband a bit volatile, but they worked well together.

  He walked in. A bell overhead announced his arrival. The place sparkled with shiny newness, all dark woods and clean lines as he walked to the counter and looked at the woman he hadn’t seen in over five years. She hadn’t changed a bit. Same long, chestnut hair. Same gold eyes. Same smirk.

  She gave him her best one, her smirks the stuff of legend, as she wiped down the counter. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  The smirk he offered her back was more sheepish than smartass. “Sorry I lost your kid.”

  Her husband, the enigmatic Reyes Farrow, appeared in the pass-through window. “The fuck, Swopes?”

  He cringed. “In my defense, I didn’t know she could freaking teleport through the dead.”

  “Departed,” Charley corrected a microsecond before she squealed and rushed around the counter to hug him.

  “I can’t believe you’re back,” he said into her hair, pulling her tight.

  “Stop molesting my wife,” Reyes said, his features just as striking as they had been when they ascended.

  She stood back to look at him. “Our plan was to keep her safe from supernatural threats within the confines of Santa Fe County. To give her as normal an upbringing as possible. Clearly, that’s not going to happen.”

  “She is something else, Charles.”

  Reyes came out of the kitchen and offered his hand.

  “We tried to find her,” Charley said. “We searched hundreds of worlds. Thousands of dimensions. It was like a needle in a haystack the size of Australia.”

  “She was in your hell at some point.”

  “Marmalade?” Charley squeaked in surprise.

  Leave it to Charley Davidson to name a hell dimension after a jar of preserved fruit.

  “Did she meet the gang?”

  “Were the members of the gang named after frou-frou coffee beverages?”

  She clasped her hands over her chest. “She did meet them. I hope they’re okay.”

  “I think she favored Mocha Latte.”

  “Don’t we all. Such a sweetheart.”

  “She can fight,” he added.

  “Mocha?”

  “Your daughter.”

  “I guess that’s a good thing.”

  “That she is not only her mother’s daughter but her father’s as well?”

  “She’ll need those skills when the time comes.” Every time Charley talked about the pending war with Satan, sadness overtook her. Garrett knew she would do anything to protect her from that. Who the hell knew? The prophecies could be wrong. Even though, by that point, he’d found seven other texts corroborating his original findings. But still.

  “Have you seen Osh since the battle?” Reyes asked.

  “Not yet, but he’s around. I’m certain of it.”

  “I can’t believe he found her.” Charley turned dreamy again. “He tracked her across a dozen planes.”

  “You know how to pick ‘em,” Garrett told her.

  She beamed at him. “I sure do.” She looked out the window and seemed to follow someone with her gaze. “She won’t know us.”

  “Beep? How could she not know you? She’s seen dozens of pictures.”

  “She won’t recognize us,” Reyes said. “We don’t want to interfere with what you and the Loehrs are doing.”

  “That makes sense,” Garrett said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “She could use you guys, you know.”

  “Someday. For now…”

  The door opened, and the bell chimed again. Garrett turned to see the little hellion walking in. Her face was full of awe as she took in the new shop.

  Garrett jumped up and rushed to her. “Hey, Beep. How’d you get here?”

  She pointed across the street. Garrett turned but only saw a woman standing there who made Cookie’s clothing choices look positively planned.

  “Oh, don’t look right at her!” Beep took his arm and steered him toward the counter.

  “Why?” he asked, suddenly panicked. “Is she dead?” He was still having a hard time discerning the dead from the living. At least from a distance.

  “Departed. Yes.”

  “You used he
r as a portal to get into town? Isn’t that kind of, I don’t know, violative?”

  “What? Public transportation.”

  “I guess that’s one way to define it.” He didn’t even want to know who she jumped through at the compound. He dared a glance over his shoulder. “I think she’s coming in.”

  “Crap. Don’t look at her.” She shoved him into a booth and sat across from him.

  “Why shouldn’t I look at her?”

  “I should have mentioned this at some point over the last few years. Oh well. How do I put it?” She drummed her fingers as she thought. “Let’s just say there are a couple of departed, like Mitzi there, who carry a torch.”

  “They can do that?” he asked, impressed. “I didn’t know they could carry anything.”

  She rolled her eyes, bringing out her inner teen. “Not physically. Emotionally.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “They have a crush on you.”

  “On me?”

  “Yes. Don’t look. She just came in.”

  He leaned close. “I’m flattered. I think.”

  “That’s not all,” Elwyn said under her breath. “They formed a coalition. It’s called GSN. Garrett Swopes Now.”

  “Strange name for a coalition.”

  “There are only a couple of members. Four at the most. Maybe five.”

  “And what does this coalition represent?”

  “Well, you.” She cupped a hand on the side of her mouth. “And getting you to them.”

  He blinked at her. For a very long time. Ignoring the dead woman standing right next to their booth. “What does that mean, exactly?”

  Beep rolled her eyes again. So much like her mother, it startled him. “What do you think? It means they want you on their side of the world.”

  “Their side?”

  “Dead, Garrett. They want you dead. As in your physical body passed so you can exist in the spiritual realm. Their realm. Stop looking at her.”

  “Can’t she hear us?”

  “It’s hard to say. Some departed aren’t quite as in tune with the physical world as others.”

  “Ah.” He looked over at Charley and Reyes, who were gazing at their daughter as if she’d just gotten back from hanging the moon. He glared at them. They were going to blow their cover before it even began. “Hey, how did you know where to find me?”

  She gaped at him. “Mitzi. Aren’t you even listening? She follows you everywhere, and if she figures out that you can see her…calaboom.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “It was an expletive.”

  “Did you just cuss at me in Nepaui?”

  After a long pause, she said, “No.”

  “Hmm. So, if she figures out I can see her?”

  “It would not be good. She’ll never leave you alone. On the bright side, she and the girls have tried to kill you a couple of times.”

  He leaned over the table. “They can do that?”

  “No. Well, not in theory.”

  “In theory?” he asked, his voice sounding like a six-year-old girl’s. When she only shrugged, he continued. “And how is that the bright side?”

  “Because now you can see them.”

  “And?”

  “You’ll know if they try to kill you again.”

  “That is not comforting.”

  “What can I get you two?”

  Beep looked up at the server. “Cookie!”

  Garrett gaped at her. “What are you doing here?”

  Cookie beamed at them. “I just thought I could use a second job.”

  “Since when?” Garrett frowned.

  “Since some friends of mine opened a new coffee shop. Water?”

  Cookie poured Beep a glass of water first, then Garrett, but when she lifted the pitcher, she knocked his glass over. Cold water rushed over the side.

  “Oh, my goodness,” Cookie said, dabbing at his crotch with a towel. “This happens to me so often.”

  His face heated despite himself. “You don’t say.”

  Beep, who would normally be giggling about now, had grown quiet. He looked up from being molested to find her staring at something behind the counter. He turned and watched as Charles busied herself with wiping down the brand new never been used register and Reyes busied himself with cooking for absolutely no one.

  “Whatcha looking at?” he asked his breakfast companion.

  Cookie finished drying his crotch and hurried back to the kitchen, probably to hide.

  Beep blinked and shook her head. “I think they’re the owners.”

  “I bet they are. Do you know them?”

  She thought and then shook her head. “I feel like I do, but I guess not. Nothing is coming to mind.”

  Wondering how the hell they’d managed to wipe Beep’s memory of them with all the pictures she’d grown up with, he asked, “What do you feel like?”

  “Sometimes, I feel like a nut.”

  “You watch too much TV. To eat.”

  “I feel like a mocha latte for starters.”

  “Good choice.” He reached over his shoulder and scratched his back. It still itched from his run-in with Hayal.

  Cookie came back, brandishing a T-shirt. “I brought a fresh shirt. I can throw yours in the dryer.”

  He chuckled and lifted it over his head. “This really isn’t necessary, hon.”

  “If we had jeans, I’d dry those, too.”

  “I think you did a great job of that already.”

  Her cheeks blossomed the prettiest pink as he slipped on the tee. But Beep was staring at him now. Her eyes round.

  “What’s the matter, sweet pea?” he asked.

  She blinked, pointed to his shoulder, the same one with scars still visible from the attack, and said quietly, “Did Hayal scratch you?”

  He hadn’t wanted her to worry. “He did, but I’m okay. Thanks to you.” When she didn’t say anything, he asked, “Is that bad?”

  She scooted down in her seat and busied herself with her phone.

  “Elwyn Alexandra Loehr, is that bad?”

  It took her a good thirty seconds, but she finally shook her head. “No. Not at all. It’s probably nothing.”

  “What’s probably nothing?”

  “Well, Nepaui scratches tend to…change people.”

  “Change people?”

  “It still doesn’t explain how you broke the light barrier, though. It’s just not possible.”

  “What do you mean, change people?”

  “Still, they got my blood into you really fast, right? You should be fine.”

  “Change people in what way?” he asked, growing more nervous by the second.

  “It’s not important.”

  “Elwyn,” he warned.

  She released a long sigh before answering. “Fine. You know those creatures we fought?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s just say they weren’t originally Nepaui.”

  “Okay. What were they?”

  “It’s hard to say. They could have been any number of beings before fighting a Nepaui and getting scratched.”

  “Beep,” he said from between clenched teeth. “Am I going to turn into one of those creatures?”

  “Of course, not.” She shook her head. “Probably not. I mean, they gave you my blood.” She glanced at the ceiling to do the math. “I’d say you have, I don’t know, one chance in ten.”

  “Of turning into one of those things?” His pulse quickened, and the edges of his vision grew dark.

  “No, silly. Of not turning into one of those things.”

  He scraped a hand down his face. “Fuck.”

  * * * *

  Also from 1001 Dark Nights and Darynda Jones, discover The Gravedigger’s Son.

  The Gravedigger’s Son

  A Charley Davidson Novella

  By Darynda Jones

  Coming May 11, 2021

  Click here to purchase.

  The job should have been easy.


  Get in. Assess the situation. Get out. But for veteran tracker Quentin Rutherford, things get sticky when the girl he’s loved since puberty shows up, conducting her own investigation into the strange occurrences of the small, New Mexico town. He knew it would be a risk coming back to the area, but he had no idea Amber Kowalski had become a bona fide PI, investigating things that go bump in the night. He shouldn’t be surprised, however. She can see through the dead as clearly as he can. The real question is, can she see through him?

  But is anything that’s worth it ever easy?

  To say that Amber is shocked to see her childhood crush would be the understatement of her fragile second life. One look at him tells her everything she needs to know. He’s changed. So drastically she barely recognizes him. He is savage now, a hardened—in all the right places—demon hunter, and she is simply the awkward, lovestruck girl he left behind.

  But she doesn’t have time to dwell on the past. A supernatural entity has set up shop, and it’s up to them to stop it before it kills again.

  While thousands of questions burn inside her, she has to put her concern over him, over what he’s become, aside for now. Because he’s about to learn one, undeniable fact: she’s changed, too.

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