I swallowed and pointed to Reyes. “Him,” I said, my hand and voice shaking.
Mendoza shot me a delighted look, picked up a booted foot, and gave Jessica a soft shove. I barely had time to gasp before she toppled over the side. I lunged for her, as though I could catch her, but the gorillas tackled me and held me down.
She didn’t scream. I’d expected her to scream, but there was only silence. I didn’t even hear her fall. I only heard the wind whipping around us, howling through the metal structure.
“Surely you’re not upset,” Mendoza said, the smug look on his face the incarnation of evil. “You were enemies, after all, yes? But you’ll get your wish. Untie him.”
I tried to scramble to my feet as they untied Reyes, but they were still holding me down. This wasn’t happening. Not to Reyes. Could he survive the fall? It had to be the equivalent of seven stories. He’d survived worse. But he’d been conscious. Able to prepare, to defend himself.
Before I could say another word, two of Mendoza’s men dropped his listless form over the side and he fell quietly from my sight.
21
Misery loves company,
which explains my sudden popularity.
—T-SHIRT
I watched as Reyes fell, a scream I couldn’t hear wrenched from my throat as I waited for him to do something. For him to react. To save himself. It was Reyes, after all. He could do anything. He could fly or dematerialize or grab on to something on the way down like they did in the movies. But there was nothing. Just the sound of the wind howling through the abandoned building.
Angel was in shock, too. He was standing on the side, looking over, his eyes round.
“Angel,” I said to get his attention.
He turned to me, his mouth a thin line of regret.
“No.” I shook my head at him. It was impossible. There was just no way.
“Don’t look so worried,” Mendoza said. “You can join him.”
He nodded to his men, and they dragged me to the side. I could see two bodies, but they didn’t look real. They were small from that vantage, like mangled action figures. None of this was real.
Mendoza said something I didn’t comprehend. No one could have survived that fall. Not even a supernatural being. Not even the son of Satan. He lay there, unmoving, and I could not wrap my head around it. Any of it.
“Ready?” I heard at last.
Mendoza was the kind of man who enjoyed killing. He enjoyed the false sense of power it gave him. But he also enjoyed the part right before the actual death. The torment. The taunting.
I looked at him. And I did my job. I judged him unworthy of crossing into heaven.
He didn’t like the revulsion he saw in my eyes. Where he’d expected fear, he found disgust. He turned me to face the edge again, put a hand on my back, and just before he pushed, he said, “No loose ends.”
I stepped forward, but the roof beneath my feet disappeared. I was over. He’d thrust me over the side just as he had Jessica. Just as they had Reyes. And we would die together.
In one final act of rebellion, I twisted around to look at them and swiped a hand through the air. In that split second between dream and reality, I’d marked their souls for the Dealer, a bright archaic symbol emblazoned on their chests. They were all his.
Then I saw Angel. He grabbed for me. When I twisted around, I’d kicked out and he caught my boot and pulled. But there was nothing he could do. I weighed too much. Little did I know the shit had a plan. My foot caught on something. A metal brace protruded out from the side of the silo, and Angel wedged my foot there. But my body kept falling until the wedge took hold. Pain shot up my leg, and my ankle very likely broke as my body slammed against the side of the silo. My skull cracked against a metal rung. I grabbed hold of it and held on for dear life.
I hung there upside down, trying to gain my bearings, staring at the top of the silo, and waiting for the men to figure out I didn’t fall. They would have to shoot me now if they couldn’t reach to dislodge my foot. When they didn’t appear immediately, I took another long look at the ground beneath my dangling body. Reyes hadn’t moved. He hadn’t flinched at all. A wave of grief overtook me, and tears fell up my face to mingle with the blood flowing there. I looked at my boot, wondering if I could move it a centimeter to the left with the ankle broken, just enough to dislodge it and finish the journey.
In that moment, the only thing I could think about was what it would be like to live without Reyes. It wasn’t a life I wanted, and I suddenly realized how and why Emily Michaels could do what she did. How she could risk her life to protect the man she loved. Even prison was better than death, losing the ones we loved so desperately.
An agony that matched the shooting pain in my ankle consumed me so fully, I could think of nothing else but the fact that I did not want to go through life without him. I pushed on the metal bar and tried to dislodge my foot. I’d never been particularly suicidal, but I’d never been consumed with quite that much pain. Not emotionally, anyway.
“What are you doing?” Angel asked, peering over the side.
“Help me dislodge my foot,” I said.
He shook his head and said, “Fuck you,” right before he disappeared. Little shithead.
My teeth welded together as the pain of my busted ankle coursed through my body like electricity. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered the sound of fighting above me. I snapped to attention as gunshots ricocheted around me before an eerie silence thickened the air. As I fought the effects of blood rushing to my head and pain hammering into me, another dark-haired man peered at me from over the side of the building. But this time, it wasn’t Angel.
“Reyes!” I shouted, reaching out to him.
“Sorry, sugar,” the man said. “It’s just me.”
I blinked and tried to focus. The Dealer. What was he doing there? Had I summoned him when I marked the souls of Mendoza and his men? Was that even possible?
He showed his teeth and gestured over his shoulder with a nod. “Thanks for the grub, though.”
I unclenched my stomach muscles and lowered my upper body to take in the horrific scene underneath me. Reyes was still unmoving. The Dealer reached down for me and grabbed hold of my pant leg, and in that moment, I honestly wanted to slip out of his grip. I considered kicking him with my other leg to loosen his hold, but he glowered and shook his head in warning.
“Uh-uh-uh. I keep telling you,” he said, pulling me up as though I weighed nothing, “we need you alive. No thoughts of suicide just because that mutt of yours kicked off.”
My heart contracted so fast and so strong, I felt as though a hulk made of rock had punched me in the chest. I would not survive the force of my agony. Even knowing he could still be with me incorporeally didn’t help. I wanted him. I wanted Reyes Alexander Farrow in my arms, warm and solid and real.
The Dealer lowered me to the roof carefully, and a jolt of pain shot through me the second my toes touched down. My right leg collapsed, and the Dealer tightened his hold to keep me from falling. I bit down, pushed off him, and tried to rush to the access door for the elevator, but I just couldn’t support my own weight. I stumbled before I took two steps. He caught me. That was when I noticed the bodies on the roof.
The Dealer shrugged. “I think after throwing those two off the roof and trying to throw you off, they got into an argument and killed each other. Who would’ve thought they’d do such a thing?”
“Works for me,” I said, glaring at Mendoza’s corpse. “Please, take me down.”
He cradled me in his arms and carried me down the stairs to the elevator.
Holding me close, he said, “We need you alive, sugar. No more thoughts of joining the mutt, capisce?”
The Dealer’s words dislodged the sobs I was holding on to, and I cried and screamed and railed against him. He pulled me tighter, and I felt true empathy radiate off him. Who would’ve thought a demon, a Daeva, could feel empathy?
When we got to the ground, the
men there were dead, as well. “You could’ve marked their souls,” the Dealer said as he walked where I pointed, right up to Reyes’s body.
I scrambled out of the Dealer’s hold and fell beside Reyes. He looked perfect. He had blood from being beaten, but otherwise, he looked perfect. Serene. His long lashes lay against his cheeks. I felt for a pulse at his neck. Waited. Repositioned my fingers and waited again. Nothing.
“Reyes,” I said, urging him to open his eyes. “Reyes, please.”
The Dealer put a hand on my shoulder and tried to coax me off him. I’d draped my body over his and was running my fingers gingerly over his face.
The Dealer’s grip tightened at the same time I felt a presence. I looked up and watched as a darkness pooled near Reyes’s body. It lifted and molded itself into the shape that resembled a human, but its proportions weren’t quite right. Only after it had fully formed did I realize it was Reyes, but only partly so. His demon side had emerged. He was massive and towered above us as the Dealer moved between us.
I struggled to my knees as Artemis appeared beside me, her guttural snarls echoing around us. I held her to me as the Dealer slowly slid out the dagger from his boot. Every time he made a move, Reyes growled, his black gaze moving from me to Artemis to the Dealer. Every time it landed on me, it took everything in me to hold Artemis back. She didn’t recognize him, the man she’d been sleeping with for the last couple of weeks.
He had all of Reyes’s stark beauty, his fluid lines and smooth textures; only his eyes were deeper and blacker, and he had razor-sharp teeth, like the demons I’d seen. Was this what happened when his physical body died? Was this what all the warnings had been about?
Slowly, and with infinite care, the Dealer passed me the knife. “Kill him,” he said, his voice soft, unhurried. “Or everyone dies.” He turned back to me. “He’ll destroy the world, sugar. And everything in it.”
Rocket’s premonition hit me hard. He’d said I would be the one to kill him. He’d warned me that there was nothing I could do to stop it, not without dire consequences. Was that what he meant? Would my not killing him mean the destruction of the world?
Before I could think on it much longer, Reyes knocked the Dealer aside and lunged for me. I slowed time, holding back both Artemis and the Dealer, who was already charging Reyes. I stood and marveled at the Dealer and Artemis. Even though I was holding back time, they were still charging forward, their essences a blur, they were so fast. But I was faster.
I stepped to Reyes, who was also a blur, and placed a hand on his handsome face. Even part demon, he was stunning, more dark and enigmatic than before. When he shook off my hand and gained precious inches, his teeth opening to rip into my jugular, I placed the knife at his heart and pushed, barely breaking the skin.
He stopped. Looked down at the blade. Back up at me. And recognition shone on his face. The knife was already spreading the poison that only a demon could feel. A blackness crept around the insertion point and began to spread, but his attention was fixed on me.
The demon side of him dissolved, and Reyes reemerged. He stumbled back and shook his head as though trying to shake out of the stupor he’d been in. I let time crash back and held Artemis to me to stop her from attacking. The Dealer realized what I’d done and stopped his advance as well. But when time bounced back like a train crashing through me, so did the pain. My knees buckled, and I fell back onto Reyes’s body, but I did not take my eyes off his incorporeal essence. He fell to his knees, shook his head once more, then dropped it into his hands, trying to get his bearings.
“Come back to me,” I whispered to him. I ordered him. “Rey’aziel, come back to me.”
His gaze shot to mine, and he did as I’d asked. He came back.
Then he was in front of me, but Artemis had calmed down. When he touched my face, she whimpered and nudged his hand with her nose. He gave her a quick caress.
I’d looked down, my brows sliding together in confusion. “Come back to me,” I ordered again.
He was grinning when I looked up again. “You have to kiss me, like in all of your fairy tales.”
“Kiss you?” I questioned.
“First you have to say yes, then you have to kiss me.”
I heard sirens in the distance and wondered who’d called the police. “I have to say yes?”
He sat beside me and nodded.
“And what am I agreeing to?”
“It’s a simple yes/no question, Dutch.”
His proposal. “You’re blackmailing me.” I couldn’t help but feel appalled. And a little flattered.
He shrugged. “If that’s what it takes, okay.”
I looked down at his face, bloodied and bruised, but still so impossibly handsome, my heart ached. “Yes,” I said, realizing how silly I’d been to make him wait for the answer I’d always known in my heart I would give. I could not live without him. It would be like expecting a sunflower to live without the sun. Without further ado, I placed my mouth on his.
He sucked in a soft breath from under my mouth. I leaned back. His incorporeal body was back where it belonged. “You look like heaven,” he said.
“That’s weird, because you look like hell.”
He laughed, then winced in pain.
“Are you really okay?” I asked.
“He’s fine,” the Dealer said as though disappointed.
Then I heard another voice. A female voice. One with a distinct nasally quality to it.
“Well?” she asked, standing beside me and tapping her bare toes in the dirt next to me. “What are you going to do about this?”
I looked over at her body, an all-consuming dread coming over me. No way. No way in hell was I going to put up with that witch for the rest of my life.
“Cry?” I asked.
“I’m dead, aren’t I?”
“Pretty much.”
“This is your fault.”
The sirens were getting closer. How was I going to explain all this?
“Jessica, look,” I said, trying to rush her, “you have to cross. I can’t do this with you.”
“Cross? Through you?” She sneered at me. “I would rather die.”
I started to point out the obvious, but she disappeared before I got another word out. Being haunted by a former best friend turned enemy number one was so going to suck like Tornado Alley in April.
I glanced up at the Dealer. He stood with arms over chest, his top hat perched to one side. “Mr. Joyce’s soul,” I said, reminding him that we had yet to settle a certain bargain.
He lifted first a shoulder, then one corner of his mouth, then the brim of his hat in a silent salute. “It’s all his.”
Relief washed over me, but it was short-lived, as a line of official vehicles raced toward us. Agent Carson led three other SUVs onto the scene. It had bullet holes in it when it swerved to a stop, covering me in dust. Her questionable act provided the perfect cover for me to quickly stash the knife, sliding it into the boot of my nonbroken ankle before the dust settled around us.
When she stepped out, I flattened the leg of my jeans and said, “You totally did that on purpose.”
Her men bolted from the vehicles, and she rushed over to me as Reyes eased up. Someone told him to stay put, but he rose to his feet anyway. So stubborn.
“Carson,” I said after she checked for a pulse on Jessica’s throat.
I couldn’t look at her. It had been a long, long drop, and it showed. I glanced around. The Dealer was gone, of course.
“There are more on the roof,” I added as an agent helped me to my feet. I balanced on one foot to keep my weight off the broken one. It would heal in a few days. A cast would only annoy me, so I didn’t let the extent of my injuries show. “I heard gunshots after I escaped them.”
Agent Carson barked a few orders, sending men into the elevators before giving me her attention. “I suppose you have an explanation.” She looked at me first, then Reyes, then back at me.
I pulled my lower lip between my
teeth and shrugged. “I’m still working on it.”
A plethora of cop cars were speeding onto the site, lights flashing and sirens blazing.
“Well, hurry,” she said, ordering another of her men to guide them. “We’ve been tailing you, worried something like this might happen.”
Reyes pulled me to his side, expertly taking my weight with skilled nonchalance. “Then you’re late,” he said, seeming annoyed.
Uncle Bob showed up then, as did the captain, and I wondered what it would be like to have him on our team. Would it be nice for Ubie to have someone to talk to? He used to talk at great length with my dad, but their relationship seemed to be cooling a little, much to my despair. Maybe having the captain in on the whole departed thing would be good for him.
He rushed over, but before he could say anything, Reyes lifted me into his arms and carried me toward Ubie’s SUV. No one seemed particularly alarmed that Reyes looked like he’d just fallen from a seven-story grain elevator. His clothes did, anyway. His dark skin was unmarred, flawless, and whether that was a result of our kiss or just his natural ability to heal at the speed of light, I didn’t know.
“I’m assuming you have everything you need for the moment,” Reyes said to Carson.
She started to protest, but one look at the determined expression on Reyes’s face convinced her otherwise. “I’ll need both of your statements first thing—”
“She needs to get home,” he said to Uncle Bob, his tone brooking no argument.
Ubie nodded, offered another quick nod to Agent Carson, then walked over to open the door for Reyes, who he sat me inside, his movements gentle, unhurried. His profile was so strong, so amazingly perfect, it was hard not to stare. I wondered if I would ever get used to his exquisiteness. To his blinding perfection. Prolly not.
“Yes,” I said, repeating my answer in case he didn’t hear me the first time.
Despite the time lag, a charming set of dimples appeared at the corners of his full mouth. “You already said that.”
“I know. I just wanted to make sure you heard me.”
Sixth Grave on the Edge Page 27
