Eleventh Grave in Moonlight
Page 17
“Hey, handsome,” I said, strolling up to Mr. Farrow.
He eyed me, a dimple appearing at one corner of his mouth, but he was mostly looking at my T-shirt, which read, IN MY DEFENSE, I WAS LEFT UNSUPERVISED.
“What brings you to this neck of the woods?” I asked, pulling on a sweater over my shirt.
“I thought we’d take the morning off.”
“Did you?” I rose onto my toes for a kiss. He obliged, his essence warming my lips. “Are you cahooting with my uncle?”
“Cahooting?” he asked, quirking a brow. “Not that I know of.”
“Okay, then this wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain case I’m working on?”
“Not at all. Cookie’s in full research mode, so—”
“Cookie’s daughter is in danger. I’m not sure how much research she’ll get done today.”
“True, but one morning away from the grind isn’t going to hurt your chances of nailing the Fosters.”
“I guess.” I waved at Uncle Bob as he drove away, and I went around to the other side of the sexy beast Reyes drove. “Any change in Ubie’s status?” I asked, wondering if the guy Reyes saw in prison was still slated to murder him even though we’d stopped it. I didn’t know that much about destiny. If we thwarted one attempt, was another one sure to follow?
He got in, disappointing his fans, and started the powerful engine, like a lion’s purr. “It’s not your uncle I need to see where that’s concerned. All I see is what got him slated for hell. I would need to see Grant Guerin again to know if your uncle is still in danger.”
“So, we’re still at DEFCON 1.”
“For the time being, but we’ve stirred up his world enough that the chances of your uncle randomly stumbling across him again are pretty slim.”
“Wait. Does that mean if Grant Guerin doesn’t do the deed he was slated for, if he doesn’t kill Uncle Bob, he won’t go to hell?”
“He’s making some bad decisions, so he’s on a pretty direct path to cause someone harm. I only see the initial offense. There’s no telling how many other crimes he was destined to commit afterwards. The chances are still pretty good that he will end up on fire eventually.”
“I wish I could see that.”
“You can. You just choose not to see the evils that men do.”
“I don’t think choice has anything to do with it.”
“Of course, it does. You’re the reaper. You can see all things like that. You can even send them there yourself should you choose. You’ve done it before.”
“Yeah, but when I marked those men, I was in a state of heightened arousal.”
“Were you?”
“Well, not like in an aroused way. It’s just, adrenaline was dropping by the bucketsful into my nervous system. I didn’t think about it. I just marked them.”
“Ah.”
“Osh said I can unmark Uncle Bob.”
“You can.”
“That’s great. As long as he stays alive long enough for me to figure out how, we’ll be good. And what are our plans for today?”
The wicked grin that slid across his mouth made me rethink any protests I might have for missing half a day of work. Had I known what he really had in store, I would have begged off, anyway.
* * *
“You want me to put what where?”
Reyes didn’t take me to bed as I’d thought-slash-hoped. But he did take me to the next best thing: a coffee shop. Nothing screamed “I love you” like taking your blushing bride to a coffee shop. Or an ice cream parlor. Or a tractor pull, but only on special occasions.
He leaned closer, the tiny table we’d taken in a darkish corner suddenly way too big. His deep brown irises shimmered, his five-o’clock shadow, the one making an early appearance, framed his sculpted mouth to bittersweet perfection.
Then he repeated what he’d said, and the spell was broken. “I want you to put your hand through my heart.”
Oh, yeah. He’d left the station, headed for Crazyville. “Your heart. Okay, I know you’re a god and all, but won’t that kill you?”
“Most likely. It’s a lesson in control. Here, I’ll show you.”
I jumped back when he reached over the table. I trusted him with my life and my heart, but when both were in jeopardy at the same time?
Then again, he’d been doing the whole dematerialization thing much longer than I had.
“So, you’re giving me a lesson?”
“If you hold still, I will.”
I glanced around. “Should you stick your hand into my chest in a public place? Blatant murder seems more of a dark-alley kind of activity.”
“I’m willing to chance it.”
“Fine.” I took in a deep breath and clenched my hands on the table. “I’m ready. Rip out my heart.”
He laughed and took one hand. Capturing my gaze with his, he turned my hand over and leaned closer, brushing his full lips across my palm.
I felt the soft prickle of his stubble. The smoothness of his lips. The hotness of his tongue.
He had me so focused on what he was doing to my hand, it took me a moment to realize he’d put his other hand on my chest. Let it melt. Let it sink into me.
I gasped. He didn’t just pass through me like a departed would when crossing. He let his molecules separate inside me. Let his heat spill into me like warm honey. First causing a rush in my chest. Then lower. And higher. Everywhere at once.
It moved to the back of my neck, behind my ears, over my lips. At the same time, it dipped into my stomach and then my abdomen and then to the flesh between my legs.
His molecules pooled and swirled until I wrenched my hands free and gripped the table. Dug my fingernails into it. Begged for the storm to come closer. That whirlwind of pleasure. That burst of ecstasy.
I felt his arm wrap around my neck. His mouth claim mine. His tongue brush against my teeth before plunging inside. Hungry. Possessive.
But the pièce de résistance was the energy building inside my core. Like lava bubbling and boiling and ready to explode. I tried not to moan. To cry out as the energy amassed, the pressure nuclear. I failed. Which would explain the hand suddenly clamped over my mouth. The gentle shushing at my ear.
But Reyes took his time. While I almost screamed for release, he kept his strokes, his radiating heat, slow and feather light. Teasing and taunting. Coaxing me closer. Daring me to come.
Unable to sit still, I parted my legs and squirmed against the infusion of energy. I whimpered as he stimulated me from the inside out. As my center contracted and convulsed. As the friction he injected directly into my core caused tiny delightful spasms to quake through me. Until the white-hot orgasm that had started so far away rushed forward at light speed. Slammed into me. Burst inside me, dumping waves of heavenly pleasure until the wetness in my panties grew to urgent levels.
He’d clamped onto me, and when I was finally able to think straight, I realized he was beside me, holding me tight as I seized underneath his expert touch.
But then he removed his hand and grabbed the padded seat at my back. I wrapped my arms around him, partly to steady him and partly to anchor me to Earth as an orgasm rocketed through him as well. It shuddered out of him in splendid, sparkling waves that almost had me coming a second time.
When his climax receded, we sat panting for a long while.
Then I remembered where we were. My eyes flew open, but I soon realized we looked simply like a couple making out in public, which I always thought was a little brash, but holy fuck. I was more than willing to put aside the Charley Davidson Book of Etiquette and Mud Wrestling if it resulted in earth-shattering orgasms.
“Fuck,” Reyes said, laying his head against my shoulder. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Which part?” I would’ve been heartily disappointed if he hadn’t wanted me to come. Not with the fact that I came, because hell, yes. But with the part where he didn’t want me to reach my maximum potential in any situation.
Still
, the boy was talented. I was pretty sure he did that on purpose.
“I didn’t mean to … that was supposed to be just for you.”
“While I do appreciate the thought, I’m glad you joined me. Sex is always better with friends.”
He flashed a set of dimples and leaned up.
When I focused on him, his face inches from mine, his mouth curved most sensually, I said, “That was the best lesson ever. You should teach professionally.”
“I think that’s illegal.”
“True.”
He cleared his throat and returned to his own seat.
I sat up. Took a sip of coffee. Fought to regain my bearings.
He took a gulp of his, finishing it off, then said, “I would say it was your turn, but I’m going to have to change before we go any further.”
“Made a mess?” I asked.
He nodded.
I reached across and caressed his crotch. Felt the warmth. Moistened my panties even more.
“Yeah, I should probably change, too.”
14
Bat-shit crazy really brings out the color in my eyes.
—T-SHIRT
An hour later, we were sitting at our kitchen table, the small one that was actually in the kitchen. Not the ginormous one that seated more friends than I had.
I’d texted Amber and got the A-okay on the current sitch, except that all her friends were falling in love with her “cousin.” She didn’t know exactly what Osh was, but she did know he was a supernatural being. And that it was getting annoying. Girls who had never spoken to her were suddenly her best friends.
I looked at Reyes. Amazing how that worked.
I’d also checked on Cookie, but she did not want to be disturbed. Apparently she was onto something insane on the Fosters. Any time Cookie got that excited, I got that excited. And curious.
“Okay,” Reyes said, pulling me out of my musings and sidling up to me. “Hand through heart.”
“Um, no?”
“Dutch,” he said, trying not to grin. “How better to learn to control this than to give you dire consequences if you fail?”
Male logic at its finest, ladies and gentlemen.
“Just try it.”
“Reyes, no. I’m not risking your life so that I can control where I end up in the universe when I accidently dematerialize in a fit of rage.”
“Exactly. In the universe. What if you dematerialize on the dark side of the moon?”
“The album?”
“The round rock in the sky.”
“Oh, yeah. That glowy thing. Still not doing it.”
“Dutch, you won’t kill me. We’re gods, remember?”
“That’s something else I want to talk to you about. How does that work exactly? I mean, what if I’m thrown into a wood chipper?”
“Later. Hand through heart.”
I let out an annoyed breath and turned toward him. “This is so weird.”
“Just concentrate.”
“What if I materialize while I’m still in your chest?”
“You won’t. That would actually take more concentration than what you’ll be doing.”
I put my hand on his chest. “In what way?”
“That would be purposely taking someone’s life.”
“I thought you said—”
“Not my life. Just in general. You can only do that if that is your strongest desire. If you really and truly want to kill someone. Otherwise, you can’t materialize inside me. It’s like a built-in safety switch.”
“How do you know all this?”
“It took me a while to figure it out.”
I drew back my hand and straightened again. “You figured out how to kill someone using this ability?”
He lowered his head. “I did.”
I blinked. “And have you … I mean, did you ever…?”
After a long moment of silence, he said, “I have. Once. I was in a maximum-security prison, Dutch.” He let that sentiment hang in the air and faced me again. “Hand. Heart.”
I lowered my head. Forced myself to concentrate, then let the molecules in my hand drift apart. It was like sand on the wind, and slowly, I pushed them through his chest.
I expected to feel … something. His muscle. His rib cage. His left ventricle. But I didn’t feel anything.
“It’s because you are no longer on the plane where my body is,” he said, reading my mind.
Not literally. God, I hoped not literally.
“And, no, I can’t read your mind.”
Holy crab apples.
“You—or, more accurately—your hand is on the celestial plane while the rest of you and all of me are on the mortal one. It’s all about shifting from one plane of existence to another.”
“Then how did you…? Why did I come earlier?”
“Ah, that’s the next class. Advanced Cellular Manipulation for Fun and Profit.”
I laughed, and suddenly my hand was physical, lying against his chest again. Over his heart.
I jerked it back. “I didn’t do that.”
“Told you.” His grin was infectious. “You can’t just materialize inside someone without a lot of practice.”
“And a lot of anger, I suspect.”
“Yeah, that, too. Try it again.”
We did the hand-through-the-heart thing a few more times, then advanced to him standing still while I walked through him. Through his body. Literally. He stood in front of me, hands in his pockets, while I dematerialized my whole everything and just passed right through him.
I laughed the first time I did it and clapped my hands like a kid on a waterslide. Then I cleared my throat and returned to my normal state of absolute coolness.
Just kidding. I have never been to the state of Coolness, though Ubie told me he drove through it once.
“Meet me over there,” Reyes said. He dematerialized and rematerialized on the other side of the room. It was a large room. “Your turn.”
I drew in a lungful of air, then shifted onto the celestial plane. Wind whipped around me. Thunder crashed. Lightning hit. The colors were so bright I lost sight of Reyes and rematerialized where I stood.
“Again,” Reyes-Wan said.
“I can’t see you.”
“Then you aren’t looking.”
That was helpful. I shifted again and tried walking to where I knew Reyes stood.
“Don’t walk over here. Be over here.”
I gave up. “You know, I can’t tell if you’re channeling Obi-Wan or Yoda more.”
“Dutch, don’t make me come get you.”
That sounded menacing. Shifting for the seven millionth time, I tried to block out the storms raging around me. The scalding wind threatening to peel the skin from my bones. The thunderous roar. The clouds opened nearby, and a beam of light shot down to take a newly departed home.
Okay, don’t walk. Be.
I could be.
Reyes appeared in the distance. Much farther than he should have been. I fought the urge to put one foot in front of the other. I was incorporeal. Utter mist. Could I float?
I tried to lift off the ground. Nope.
If I couldn’t float—an activity I’d seen Reyes do countless times—how was I to get from here to there?
“Dutch, be here.”
I glared at him, clenched my fists, and … ordered space out of my way. One second later, I appeared. Right in front of him.
“Good. Now here.” He disappeared again. A second later, he was another few hundred feet away.
Ordering space to move aside, I did it again. I beamed up at him.
“Good. Now materialize.”
I ordered my molecules to realign. He did the same. Sunlight burst around us, and he nodded, gesturing for me to look over my shoulder. I did. Right as a semitruck plowed into us.
Its horn blared. I screamed and jumped into Reyes’s arm. Then I watched as it passed through us. Gears and rods and other mechanical stuff rushed through our incorporeal bodies. Two second
s later, a Nissan Maxima did the same. Then a Buick Enclave. Then a little white thing I couldn’t identify. A Dodge Ram. A Mercedes GLE. On and on until I realized we were on the interstate. I-25, to be exact.
I turned to Reyes and hit him on the shoulder. He grinned and disappeared again. After rolling my eyes, I followed. We were at Calamity’s. In the kitchen. There were two prep cooks prepping away, but they had yet to realize we were there. Which was a whole new can of worms.
When we materialized again, I threw my arms over Reyes to anchor him to the spot. He laughed, his voice soft and husky and deep.
“Okay, that was cool, but what if I want to go somewhere you are not?”
At the sound of my voice, the two cooks looked over at us, exchanged confused glances, then went back to work.
Reyes slid his arms around my waist. “You slow down. Think about where you are going. Get a mental picture of your target. It can be a person or a place. And you just go there.”
“I just go there. Okay.” I was actually a little thrilled that I was finally learning this stuff. Stuff Reyes had been able to do since he was little, though the dematerialization of his human body didn’t come about until more recently. “What if someone sees us materialize out of thin air? Won’t that be a little upsetting?”
“The human mind fills in the gaps. It is certain it saw us walk up or just come out of a closet. Whatever it needs to do to explain, it does. You only really need to be careful with children. It takes them a while to develop that skill.”
“What skill? Denial?”
“Pretty much.”
“I can’t believe we didn’t get squashed.”
“You can’t.” He lifted me up and sat me on the counter, then took down two cups and went for the coffeemaker. I had him trained so well.
“I’m pretty sure I can be squashed. Just like a bug. Only bigger and with more entrails. Then what, Know-It-All Man? If I’m a god and can’t die, then what? I’m still human, Reyes.”
He walked back with two cups of coffee. I took both. He raised a single, arrogant brow.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want one?”
Without answering, he leaned in, nipped at the tender skin below my jaw, then turned and started making us lunch.