Summoned to Thirteenth Grave (Charley Davidson #13)

by Darynda Jones

  Reyes swung his sword, flexing his wrist.

  “We can’t hurt them,” I said, putting a hand on his arm to stop him. “They’re still human.”

  “Not for long.”

  “Reyes, there has to be another way.”

  “We have to get you to that core, Dutch.”

  “We don’t even know if it’ll work. We’d be risking more lives on something that might or might not succeed, and if you haven’t noticed, my plans don’t always pan out.”

  Uncle Bob pushed me aside. “Okay, plan B, then.”

  I looked up at him, hardly recognizing the handsome man beside me, his massive wings foreign and surreal. “Yeah?”

  “We keep them very, very busy.”

  “How do we do that?” I asked.

  “We give them something to play with.” And with that, he jumped into the crowd like a kid at a concert crowd-surfing, only he fought. He pushed and punched, trying not to do permanent damage.

  They scratched and bit and snarled, drawing blood, while Reyes and I fought to get to the core. We’d made it as far as three rows deep when more Shade demons joined the fight.

  Artemis jumped in, dragging one demon out after another. But Reyes and I couldn’t shift. We couldn’t help her.

  They took Uncle Bob down, and I screamed his name. Like a horde of super zombies, they jerked unnaturally and moved incredibly fast. If we feigned left, they were already going right to head us off, as though they knew what we were thinking before we did.

  All we could do was push and punch and try to knock them unconscious. But they were strong.

  Sentries started arriving. They managed to get the infected off Uncle Bob, but he’d been injured. We were fighting a losing battle. I’d never make it to the core. Time for backup plan number three.

  I closed my eyes and summoned the one person who could help me.

  As a hundred battles were being waged around us, a soft, feminine voice wafted to us. A voice Reyes would know better than my own.

  “Reyes?” she said, her lyrical voice stunning him.

  He turned just in time to see his sister, Kim, appear before him. As she lovingly pressed a palm to his face, I whispered his name.

  “Reyes.”

  Confused, he turned just as I plunged the knife Thaniel made into his heart.

  He sucked in a sharp breath, looking down at the blade protruding from his chest, the metal flakes already causing damage.

  Then he looked up at me with a knowing smile as his body began to crack. “I was worried you wouldn’t do it.”

  Tears blurred my vision. “You knew?”

  The horde began to grow weaker, their resistance waning. Some of them started to lose their balance. A few doubled over. Others crumpled, losing consciousness altogether. Even the individual Shade demons were losing strength.

  I looked back at him. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Hurry,” he said, his voice strained. His eyes rolled back, and he fell to his knees. He ripped at his shirt, tearing it in half as his tattoos split open and an orange light leaked out of him like molten lava. His back arched, and he threw back his head, groaning in agony. He spoke again from between clenched teeth. “Dutch.”

  I jolted to awareness, fighting the horror of what I’d just done.

  Scrambling over writhing bodies, I hurried to the hell dimension’s life force. Praying for my mother’s strength, I plucked it out of the air and held it in my palm.

  A fire began to leech out of Reyes, the heat blistering, and the Shade demons screeched, the sound high-pitched as though they were being burned as well.

  Uncle Bob climbed to his feet, panting and covered in blood.

  I concentrated on every molecule in a ten-mile radius. Separated those of the hell dimension from those of the earthly plane. Then I gathered them.

  The air swirled around me as I pulled the atoms together.

  A lightning storm, very much like the one from the night Reyes escaped the hell dimension, crackled and arced as a dark cloud churned above us.

  I kept the core in my hand. A heat like that of the sun radiated out and fought my control. I fought harder, collecting each and every molecule for miles. I dragged them out of the infected in hospitals. I drew them out of the cracks in which they hid. I lured them out of the shadows.

  Searching every inch of Albuquerque, no atom too small to escape my attention, I collected them in the palm of my hand.

  Once we stood outside the hell dimension, I shifted and straddled both the earthly and the celestial planes where I could lift sand from the ground beneath our feet. Then I slowly collapsed the dimension, folding it in upon itself, crumpling it like a piece of paper. The pressure from the force heated the dimension and the sand, fusing them together, forcing the molecules to bind until it formed a ball of glass in my hand. A perfect sphere the size of a baseball.

  It glistened, and though it was crystal clear, if I squinted I could still see the dimension Reyes created inside.

  “Charley!” Kim called out, her voice urgent.

  Reyes was kneeling on the floor, his torso arched, his head thrown back, his arms spread wide in agony. Only he was solid stone, a marble sculpture of spectacular beauty. A seasoned art critic would swear one of the masters had sculpted him.

  Kim knelt beside him, frantic. “Charley, please.”

  I knelt on the other side, begged for this to work, then pulled the knife out of his chest. And we waited. Uncle Bob took a knee beside me, but nothing was happening.

  Always go for the heart. The words repeated over and over in my mind.

  I bent over him, placed my hand where the knife had been, pressed my mouth to his, and gave him a part of my soul.

  A warmth spread beneath my lips. I lunged back and watched as life reflowed into my husband. As color returned.

  I took Uncle Bob’s hand into mine and held it to my chest for strength. He let me. He even wrapped his other arm around me. Then a wing, and I sagged against him.

  We waited as color made its way across Reyes’s chest, closing the fissures there. Then, in a burst of energy, he broke free of the stone and doubled over, gasping for air on all fours. He turned his head and spit blood, then looked over at me. His hand rose to block the light from his eyes, and what eyes they were.

  We’d been here before. In this very situation the first time I saw him as Reyes when we were in high school. Him on all fours next to a Dumpster in an alley, reeling from a vicious attack by Earl Walker. Me, ever the doer-of-good, trying to save him.

  He’d had to lift a hand to shield his eyes from the light on Gemma’s camera, but now I realized he was probably shielding them from my light as well.

  I eased closer and whispered his name.

  He frowned in thought. “Did you stab me in the chest with a knife?”

  “I did. I’m sorry.”

  He looked around. “Did it work?”

  “Yes. How did you know what I was going to do?”

  He sat back on his heels and gave me a seductive once-over. “Because you’re you. What else would you do?”

  Not entirely happy with that explanation, I straddled him and offered him a brilliant scowl. One that would have mortal men quivering their boots, I was certain of it. But not Reyes Alexander Farrow.

  He let his gaze drop to my mouth and held it there a long moment.

  The formerly infected, a.k.a. possessed by a demon from a hell dimension that should never have been allowed on this plane, slowly awakened. One at a time, they rose and looked around, wondering where they were, if their expressions were any indication.

  Taking in all the people who were now demon-free, I told Uncle Bob, “We may need an ambulance. Or two.”

  Reyes took Kim’s hand. She brought his to her lips, tears running amok down her pretty face. We helped him stand just as another entity materialized.

  I whirled around, my hands in karate chop mode. No idea why.

  Michael, the archangel, decided to honor us with his presen
ce. He stood a foot above me, his massive wings tucked behind him, the arches rising far above his head.

  He looked at Reyes as though they had business. Why would they?

  Then he turned his attention to Uncle Bob. “Raphael.”

  “Michael,” Uncle Bob said in return, but he pronounced Michael’s name as Mik-ay-elle. Like they knew each other from another time. Then the whole angel thing kicked in, the realization that Uncle Bob, my uncle Bob, was a celestial being hadn’t quite sunk in yet. But it was getting closer. The wings helped.

  Michael refocused on Reyes. “It is time.”

  Reyes nodded and disentangled himself from Kim and me.

  “Time?” I asked, suddenly very wary. I clutched his arm. “Time for what?”

  Michael spared me a glance. “The agreement was for three days.”

  “What agreement? Reyes?”

  “Rey’azikeen agreed to sit by his Brother’s side if He would lift your exile and allow him three days with you.” He placed a razor-sharp stare on my husband. “It’s time to go.”

  “That’s how I got out of Marmalade?”

  Michael tilted his head to the side, curious.

  I stood, appalled. “Wait a minute, you sold your soul for three days?”

  Reyes lifted my chin, tilting my face to his. “I would have sold it for three hours.”

  “Rey’azikeen,” Michael said, urging him to follow.

  Reyes obeyed, but I stepped in front of Michael. “Now, you listen here, buddy. We’re talking days, right?”

  He didn’t respond. He just kept that curious gaze on me as though trying to figure me out.

  “Because if we’re talking days, let me tell you, where I’ve been for last ten days was over a hundred years in Marmalade time.” I stepped closer and poked Mik-ay-elle in the chest. “So, one day equals about ten years, according to your Boss, right?”

  Nothing.

  “That means I get to keep my husband for at least another thirty years on this plane. Give or take. Because it’s not an exact science.”

  Michael scanned me from head to toe as though I were beneath him, then he did something I’d never seen him do. He almost grinned. Almost. One corner of his mouth tipped up the slightest bit, and he said, “Or, we could follow time as it is in my Father’s realm.”

  I pointed an accusing finger at him. “Don’t even try to trick me.”

  “I wouldn’t dare,” he said, unmoved.

  Satisfied, I squared my shoulders and asked, “Then what time would that be?”

  “It is said that in my realm, a day is as a thousand years.”

  I thought about that. I was so bad with the whole math thing. As I contemplated what he said, hope made a hesitant appearance. “So . . . ?”

  “So,” he said, “I will return in three thousand years. Be prepared.”

  Reyes’s jaw fell open. Kim’s did, too. I only realized then that mine was hanging off its hinges as well.

  He turned to Uncle Bob and said expectantly, “Raphael.”

  Uncle Bob gave a curt nod, but I lunged forward and grabbed his wrist. “What? Are you going with him, too?”

  He smiled down at me. “We made a deal.”

  “What is it with This Guy and deals?”

  “I had to help, Charley. This was the only way.”

  “But you can’t go. What about Cookie and Amber?”

  “They’ll survive.”

  A sob wrenched from my chest before I even realized I was upset. “Uncle Bob, please.” I threw my arms around him to anchor him to Earth.

  He wrapped me in his embrace, his love so incredibly unconditional.

  “You gave up everything to do this. To fight with us. Just like you gave up everything to stay on Earth when I was born. To stay with me. I’m so sorry, Uncle Bob. Please stay.”

  “I’m the one who’s sorry, pumpkin. I wanted you to find your own way. I worried that if I influenced you at all, even the smallest amount, it would change the course of history. It would change your destiny.”

  “Raphael,” Michael said, growing impatient.

  “No.” I turned on him with a vengeance I scarcely knew I had. “No.”

  “It is not up to me. It was Raphael’s decision.”

  “Okay, your Dad likes to deal, let’s deal.” I lifted the globe that held the Shade and said, “I’ll trade you a hell dimension for my uncle.”

  “Done.” Michael took it out of my hands and vanished.

  “Oh, holy shit, that was easy. He’s probably scared to death we’ll release it onto his Father’s plane again.” I snorted. Silly archangel.

  “How did you do that?” Uncle Bob asked.

  “Snort?”

  “Negotiate with Michael. Nobody negotiates with Michael. Ever. You’re . . . you’re amazing.”

  “Apparently. So, when he says Raphael, you’re not the Raphael, right?”

  He offered me a look of pure smugness. “I didn’t realize I was famous.”

  I clasped onto him again. He let me. He even brushed a feather over my cheek. My life was so strange.

  I refocused on the ball and chain. “Okay, we have three thousand years to find another loophole. Speaking of which . . .” I punched him as hard as I could on his shoulder. He simply slid a brow up in question. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “What? Bargained for my wife’s life back?”

  “For three days?”

  He pulled me into his arms. “I had to. Any longer than that and you’d start to get on my nerves.”

  “Ah, but the real question is, what the hell are you going to do with me for the next three thousand years?”

  “I have a few ideas.”

  24

  Charley Davidson and Reyes Farrow:

  That thing that happens when an irresistible force meets an immovable object.

  —TRUE FACT

  We could’ve stayed at the apartment, but there were still a dozen formerly possessed people getting medical attention, so we decided to stay at HQ one more night. The fun part of our evening was calling everyone and telling them the good news. Mainly that we’d stopped the hell dimension and traded it to Michael for Ubie.

  Good times.

  I had to threaten my uncle, however. He wanted to call Cookie, but she was my BFF. I wanted to call her. He acted like he had some kind of spousal rights to break the news, but I threatened to tell her about his wings, which were gone again, but I had a feeling he could bring them back whenever he needed to.

  She was so going to love that.

  Once that was out of the way, and I could hear again after Cookie’s high-pitched shrieks of joy, Reyes made dinner. Yes, the man had been shredded, stabbed in the heart by his wife, died, turned to stone, and brought back to life and still managed to whip up a batch of green chile burritos. He was a keeper.

  While he was cooking, I ran to the roof to see the lights of Albuquerque without the haze of the Shade obstructing my view. The quarantine would be lifted soon and martial law rescinded. But the total loss, besides the sanity of many an individual, was thirteen. Thirteen had died as a direct result of something I’d done.

  The thought was unbearable. All thirteen had severe mental illness. This could not have helped their situation.

  As I contemplated how I could get away with healing them all, a feminine voice wafted toward me. “I think you’re being too hard on yourself.”

  I turned to see a departed woman standing in the dark, her monochrome features coming through in Technicolor. Except she was monochrome.

  But she was pretty and . . .

  I paused and took another look, blinking in disbelief. It would be several minutes before I could speak, and when I did, I could only manage one word.

  “Mom?” I asked, almost afraid to say it out loud. Afraid she’d disappear if I broke the spell of her existence.

  But a smile widened across her face. “I’m surprised you remember me since we only met the one time. And you were covered in afterbirth.”
>
  At long last, I knew where I got my sense of humor from.

  I rushed forward and threw my arms around her. “Mom, how are you here?”

  “You summoned me.”

  “What?” I leaned back to take her in. She was so beautiful. “I summoned you? How? I didn’t even know I could.”

  “You summoned my strength in the battle and thereby me. I’m glad you followed the clues.”

  “Mom, how did you know I would need them?”

  “I was a seer. When I was alive.”

  “A seer? You mean a prophet?”

  “Yes. When that demon killed me, I was bombarded with vision after vision. That’s why I gave the message to your sister.”

  “How is she, by the way?”

  She laughed softly. “She’s beautiful. Just like you.”

  I covered my mouth with one hand, but kept a firm grip on her with the other, afraid to let her go. “Can you stay?”

  “No. I’ve crossed over, so even if you summon me, I can only stay a little while. But I wanted to talk to you. Something has been bothering you, and I wanted you to know that anytime anything bothers you, anything niggles at the back of your neck, it’s usually important. You need to take heed.”

  “How did you—? Never mind. Take heed. Gotcha.”

  She began to fade. “Wait,” I said, trying to grab her, but she’d gone too far. My hands slipped through her.

  “I’ll be back,” she said, her voice fading as fast as she was. “When she’s older.”

  “She?” But my mother, the woman I only had a vague recollection of, was gone. “Wait! I have to know! What was with the lion?”

  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.