Seventh Grave and No Body

by Darynda Jones

  “They’re here,” I said, taking a towel off the rack and wiping my face.

  He straightened slowly. The alarm rocketing through him hit me in one sharp wave.

  “They killed a man right in front of me. Or, well, behind me. I didn’t see anything.” I looked down at the towel. “There was so much blood.”

  He stepped to me. Lifted my shirt. “Is any of this yours? Did they get you?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  He peeled off the shirt despite my squirming for him stop. But I was drained of all energy, as though gravity had leached it out of me. After a detailed examination, he wrenched my left arm. A scalding heat seared through to my bones, and I felt anger rise within him.

  “Where is Rey’aziel?” When I glared at him, the Dealer stepped closer. Lowered his voice. “Where is your fiancé?”

  “At the bar,” I said, exasperated.

  After ripping the towel out of my hands, he stalked out. “I’ll get a clean one and find something for you to wear. Get in the shower. I have bandages in the kitchen.”

  “I need to call my uncle first. If anyone saw me, they’ll think I was trying to cover up a crime. I need to report – Bandages?”

  I looked down at my arm as the Dealer – who refused to tell me his name – returned with another towel and some disinfectant. Blood gushed freely from a wound on my arm, and I suddenly remembered the pain I’d felt while underneath the dead man’s body.

  “It bit me,” I said, my shock complete.

  Before today, the Twelve had just been a mild threat. A vague possibility. Escaping hell was one thing. Making it onto this plane was quite another. The fact that they had done both, that they were here to finish what they’d started, was slowly sinking in.

  He took a closer look at the wound, dabbed it with a bandage to check the flow of blood, then turned me around to face the shower.

  “This wasn’t an accident,” I said to him as he undid my bra and pushed the straps over my shoulders.

  I covered Danger and Will as he turned me around and started to unbutton my pants.

  “They were summoned,” I said.

  His fingers stopped and his gaze, as dark as his black hair, turned incredulous. “How do you know?” he asked after a long moment.

  “A little girl told me this morning.”

  “And you believed her?”

  “Yes.”

  He took a step back and braced an arm on the wall as though trying not to fall down.

  “Who could do such a thing?” I asked him.

  For several long beats, he stood in silence. “I have no idea,” he said at last. “There’s no one with that kind of power on this plane.” He raised his lids. “Besides you, that is.”

  Was he accusing me of something? “Why would I summon the Twelve beasts of hell? I didn’t even know there was such a thing.”

  “There’s no one else,” he repeated. Shaking off the moment, he went back to the task at hand: struggling with the blood-soaked button on my jeans.

  “This is your world,” I said. “Your area of expertise. You have to know who did this. Maybe if someone out there controls them, we can stop them by stopping him.”

  He shook his head to indicate he had no clue.

  My clothes fell on a fuzzy beige rug underneath my feet, effectively ruining it as the Dealer stepped past me and turned on the shower.

  “It’ll take a minute. You need to get warm.”

  Only then did I realize every part of me quivered visibly. “It’s probably the fact that I haven’t had any caffeine in twenty hours.”

  It was the oddest thing. I stood there in front of him, completely naked, and felt no shame or guilt – though he did look just over half my age. There was something between us. Something pure that had tugged at me the first moment I saw him, but it wasn’t attraction. He was stunning – no doubt about it. But what I felt was more like… trust. Deep down inside, I’d trusted him despite his heritage. I felt I could trust him with more than my life. I felt I could trust him with my most prized possession. With something that meant more to me than my life.

  Was that why I’d gone to him instead of to Reyes? Or was it simply because of the fact that Reyes was going to kill me?

  Dread caused nausea to spike within me. That combined with all the blood, with the memory of seeing a man’s throat literally ripped out, made the world topple beneath my feet. The Dealer caught me to him with one arm, pushed the shower curtain back with the other, and then lifted me over the edge of the tub, soaking and bloodying himself simultaneously.

  “That’s never going to come out,” I said, gesturing toward the crimson stains on his meticulous white shirt.

  He offered me a tilt of his mouth before I slid the curtain closed.

  I scrubbed every inch of me. The soap he had smelled good. Clean. It almost concealed the coppery scent of blood. The dark red substance turned pink as it mixed with the water around my feet and swirled down the drain. I couldn’t wait much longer. I had to call Uncle Bob. But I was taking a shower – washing away crucial evidence. What would he think? Even he couldn’t cover up the fact that my fingerprints were surely all over that kitchen. Smeared in the blood on the floor. Trailed along the walls and over the door I’d burst out of.

  Even Uncle Bob could cover up only so much. How was I going to explain the fact that the man’s throat had just magically ripped open? That I’d had nothing to do with it? That a beast, essentially an escaped prisoner from hell, had tried to kill me and got the man instead?

  It sounded crazy even to me.

  The injury to my arm, clean slices along my biceps, stung under the warm water. They were deep but not deep enough to need stitches. They still bled, though. I’d need to bandage them tightly and lay off the strawberries, a natural blood thinner.

  After I’d calmed down enough to stop shaking uncontrollably – now my shakes were much more controlled, more of an orchestrated effort – I turned off the shower. The heat from it had permeated every inch of me. Saturated and soothed. Or so I thought. Then I realized it wasn’t the shower heating me but something much hotter. Much more dangerous.

  Without another thought, I threw open the shower curtain, practically stumbled over the edge of the tub, and rushed into Reyes’s arms. He was angry. Outrage reverberated around him, but he held me as though I were the last morsel of food he would ever see.

  I was getting him soaked. He wore a light blue button-down with the sleeves rolled up, and when I leaned back to see if I was bleeding onto him, the shirt clung wetly to his wide chest.

  “I’m bleeding,” I said, trying to back away.

  He didn’t let me. He pulled me close again, and we both shook against each other. Me with a combination of terror and relief. Him with a combination of anger and, well, anger.

  “How did you know I was here?” I asked into his shoulder.

  “The Daeva called me.”

  “Oh.” It was all I could say. But I’d wanted to say, the traitor. I should have known the Dealer would call Reyes. It was pretty brave, actually, since he’d just seen me naked. Not many men would risk calling the son of Satan after that. “You got here really fast.”

  “He said you were in the shower. It was incentive.”

  “Oh, again. He was closer,” I explained. “And I was covered in blood. Since we live in a high-traffic area, I was afraid people would see.”

  I could feel him fight with that judgment call despite my reasoning. I hadn’t gone to him. I’d gone to what he considered to be a lesser life-form. A being who could not protect me when push came to shove. But I would argue with him on that point. On all of them.

  After a moment, his hold eased. He put me at arm’s length. Frowned. Studied me and frowned again.

  Then, as though a revelation had hit him, his anger flared to life again, as strong as I’d ever felt it, and I knew that he knew. I’d meant to change it back before going home or to the office, but I forgot.

  He bit down, worked
his jaw until he said, “You blocked me.”

  I lowered my head, confirming both my guilt and my hesitation in admitting it to him.

  His grip tightened. He’d never known his own strength, and he was proving that once again. One hand had a firm hold right where the hellhound had swiped at me like a hungry tiger. I winced, but he didn’t notice. He wouldn’t. Not with the all-consuming anger riveting through him as it was now. “First you leave without me, knowing what we are facing, and then you block me from feeling you. From finding you.” When I didn’t answer, he scoffed. “No wonder I didn’t pick up your distress when the Daeva called. I just thought it was because I was so worried, but —”

  “I just didn’t want you to know I’d left. You were… busy.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  My own anger roared to life at his condescending tone. Had he forgotten his little encounter with the celebrity temptress? “Let’s just put it this way,” I said, pushing out of his grip, “you blocked me first.”

  “I’ve never blocked you. Not like this. I’ve kept you from emotions at times, but —”

  “Physically,” I said, turning to search for my clothes. They were gone.

  The minute I turned around to yell at the Dealer, he threw a pair of jeans, a pair of boxers, and a T-shirt over Reyes’s shoulder. I caught them in midair, waiting for Reyes to turn on him. He didn’t. He was too busy glowering at me.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The chick in the bar. You purposely blocked me from seeing you while you talked to her.”

  “There was a reason.”

  I jerked the shirt over my head. “And?”

  “I don’t think she’s right in the head.”

  “Really? That’s your excuse? If I give you more time,” I said, jumping into the boxers that fit alarmingly well, “do you think you can come up with a better one? That one is as lame as my uncle’s dead horse.”

  He watched as I tried to step into the pants and lost my balance. He started to help me but I held up a hand to stop him.

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “I didn’t want her to see you, Dutch. Not the other way around. There’s something wrong with her.”

  “She looked fine from my vantage point.”

  “Mentally, I mean.”

  Unlike the boxers, the pants were about two sizes too big. I stormed past my man in search of the Dealer. “Do you have a belt I can borrow?” I called out.

  “Right here,” he said, coming out of a bedroom. He nodded with a grin. “Not bad. And the bleeding stopped. I’ll find those bandages.”

  “It’s okay. I don’t need any. Can you just put my clothes in a bag?”

  “I’m burning them,” he said, matter-of-fact, handing me a thick black belt.

  “Burning them?” I was starting to panic again. “I have to call my uncle.” I threaded the belt through the loops. “He has to know what happened. There’s a dead body on what is now our” – I turned to glare at the only person in the hall glaring back – “property. I can’t just leave him there. I have to tell them what happened. I took a shower. I burned my clothes. It’s all going to look a tad suspicious, don’t you think?”

  The doorbell rang and the Dealer strode past me without comment.

  I followed him. “So when you say you’re burning them, you mean you were planning to burn them, right? They aren’t actually on fire yet, are they?”

  “Sorry, sugar,” he said as he opened the door.

  Garrett Swopes stood on the other side of it.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked him, taken aback.

  “I’m the backup plan,” he said, a sly grin lighting his face. Garrett was a skiptracer who happened to have died recently – an incident that may or may not have been my fault. The doctors revived him, but he’d seen some pretty dark stuff while surfing the afterlife, including Reyes’s father, the big man down under.

  “Backup plan?” I turned to Reyes. “Why do we need a backup plan?”

  The Dealer tossed a pair of socks and my boots to me. “I cleaned them the best I could,” he said. “They’re still wet, but I don’t have anything that will fit you.”

  I took a black athletic sock and hopped on one foot to get it on while following the Dealer into the kitchen. “I need my phone. I have to call my uncle.”

  “No can do, sugar,” he said, grabbing a beer out of the fridge. He winked before downing the entire contents in three huge gulps. “Liquid courage.” He pitched the bottle into a wastebasket and went for another.

  “I need you sober,” Reyes said, his voice razorlike.

  “As luck would have it, your particular needs don’t interest me. My only concern is the reaper. She needs to stay here.”

  “You can’t keep me prisoner,” I protested.

  “I told you,” Reyes said, stepping close as I hopped into the other sock, “she doesn’t leave my sight. What if they show up here while we’re there?”

  “They can’t come in here, demon spawn, or don’t you feel that?”

  Reyes stepped back and lowered his head before pasting on a smirk. “You think one minuscule blessing and a little holy water are going to keep them out?”

  “You got a better plan?”

  Reyes pulled a leather cloth from the back of his pants. He unfolded it in his palm to reveal Zeus, the only knife in existence that could kill a demon, any demon, with one thrust.

  “What good will that do you?” I asked him. “You can’t even touch it.”

  “I can if it’s encased in leather.” He held it out for my inspection. Who knew a Sham Wow had so many uses? “But it’s not for me. It’s for you.” He took my hand and placed the knife in it sans the chamois. “If they attack, don’t hesitate to use it, Dutch. Not even a microsecond.”

  I began to get more and more worried. “What do you mean? Where are we going?”

  He gave me a quick once-over and I felt something dangerously close to pride swell inside him.

  I took a quick peek myself. Loose Blue Öyster Cult T-shirt, baggy jeans held up by a belt, and my usual dark brown ankle boots.

  “We have to go back,” Reyes said, and I froze.

  “We have to call my uncle, Reyes. It’s a crime scene now. We have to get the police involved.”

  He nodded, then said, “What if you do call your uncle? What if he goes in there, Dutch? What if the same thing happens to him?”

  I leaned back against the wall, astounded with my idiocy. “I didn’t even consider that. I’m so stupid.”

  “You’re not stupid,” Garrett said. “But why are we going in there again? I mean if these things are so bad.”

  “We aren’t,” Reyes said, heading toward the door. “The Daeva and I are. You are staying out front in the sunlight, guarding my fiancée with your life.”

  “Oh,” Garrett said. “Okay, then.”

  “We don’t even know if that sunlight thing is true, Reyes.” I rushed to keep up with his long strides. “You said yourself, neither of you have any idea what they are capable of. They could frolic in the sun on a daily basis, for all we know.” When he kept going, I added, “They attacked with no warning, Reyes.”

  He paused midstride and I almost ran into him. Instead he turned and wrapped one arm around my waist and waited for me to continue.

  “You don’t understand. I never even saw them. I just heard a growl. Saw that man’s throat ripped to shreds. Felt their teeth. I never even got a glimpse. We have no idea what they are capable of.”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” he said, giving me a light squeeze. “Just keep that thing close.”

  “You think Zeus can kill them?” I asked, my voice quivering.

  “No,” he said, running a thumb along the cleft in my chin. “I think you can kill them.”

  7

  Restraint: not just for sex anymore.

  — T-SHIRT

  We pulled up to the asylum again in two vehicles. Since Misery’
s driver’s seat was still drenched in blood, Reyes and I took his black Plymouth ’Cuda while Garrett and the Dealer took Garrett’s black pickup. Black in New Mexico was just not a sane choice, no matter how good it looked, but boys will be boys.

  I thought about summoning Angel or even Artemis, but I had no idea if the Twelve could kill them. I couldn’t take the risk. Artemis, a gorgeous Rottweiler, had been sent to guard me, but I would die if anything happened to her. Possibly quite literally.

  When we pulled up, Strawberry was sitting on the curb out front, chewing absently on Barbie’s head.

  I jumped out before Reyes could stop me, and ran to her. “Strawberry,” I said, kneeling beside her, “are you okay?”

  “No,” she said past the plastic in her mouth. “I’m okay. There’s an awful lot of blood, though.”

  I took her into my arms, hoping none of the surrounding neighbors were watching. It would just look odd. Apparently, no one had seen me tearing out of the building earlier, covered in someone else’s blood. There were no cop cars about or crime scene teams scouring the place for evidence, like my bloody fingerprints all over the place. Thank heavens for small favors.

  “Where are Rocket and Blue?”

  She answered with a soft shrug.

  I set her back so I could look into her eyes. “Did you see them, sweetheart? The big dogs?” I asked.

  She lowered her head. “No. I just heard them.”

  I embraced her again. “I’m so sorry. You can’t go back in there for a while, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Thank you.”

  As I sat rocking her in my arms, I felt a sliver of cold metal encircle one of my wrists with a click.

  I looked up at Garrett, who had the other cuff around his wrist. “What the hell?” I said, standing awkwardly, one hand imprisoned.

  “Boss’s orders.” He gestured to Reyes with a nod.

  I gaped at my husband-to-be. “What is this for?”

  Reyes didn’t dignify my question with a response. “If she tries to go in there for any reason,” he said instead, addressing Garrett with a hard stare, “you have my permission to restrain her by any means necessary.”

  “Sweet,” Garrett said.