Receiving no answer, I turned back to the grid of city lights. I loved this place so much. I was glad I got to stay a little longer, though I wasn’t sure three thousand years would be long enough.
So, what was bothering me? Besides … well, besides the obvious.
And I had my answer. It had been staring me in the face.
I ran downstairs. Uncle Bob was there, hovering in the kitchen, asking Reyes how much longer. He was like a kid, but I could hardly blame him. Reyes’s burritos, like everything else Reyes, were delicious and addictive.
“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
Eight 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 1
9
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 Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Cover design by Michael Storrings
Cover illustration by Herman Estevez; charm © Jeffrey Coolidge/Getty Images
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print book as follows:
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:|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
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First Edition: January 2019
Summoned to Thirteenth Grave Page 27
