Eighth Grave After Dark (11 page)

But even as close as I got, I couldn't see a mark. I really didn't know what to look for. I saw the silver of their hides, but they were black, so black that they absorbed light rather than refracted it. The silver was literally a reflection off such eternal blackness. But I didn't see a mark. I had yet to see what other supernatural beings saw, though. Maybe if I were more in tune with who I was, with what I was, I would see right through the beasts.

One growled and I saw another flash of silver, this time off a set of razorlike teeth. It lunged at me and I stumbled back, tripping on the low heels of my ankle boots. I caught myself before tumbling onto my backside. Thank goodness, because Beep would not have been impressed with my coordination.

Just as I regained my footing, I heard a male voice from behind me. “One p-push, and you'd be their next m-meal.”

Startled, I turned to see Duff standing behind me. He was a departed man in his late twenties who wore a baseball cap, glasses, and a stutter. I'd always found him adorable. The stutter got me every time. But lately he was kind of creeping me out. No idea why, considering almost everything he'd said to me lately seemed to hold a veiled threat.

He smiled when he saw me, but he hadn't been wearing a smile when I first turned around. He'd been transfixed, mesmerized by the beasts snapping and snarling a few feet away, pacing beyond the border, waiting for me to stumble into their grasp. It seemed as though he admired them, but he recovered quickly and forced a warm expression.

“What are you doing, Duff?”

“J-just checking on you.”

“Why?” I asked suspiciously. “Did Reyes send you?”

“N-no. No, I just came on my own. I s-saw you leave. I thought m-maybe you were in trouble.”

“Why would you think that?”

Duff had been creeping around a lot lately, appearing at times and places where he had no right. He was turning into quite the stalker, and after Vatican Boy, I'd had about enough of stalkers. I kept meaning to talk to Reyes about him, but I also didn't want to ban him from our lives without cause. I feared, however, it was coming to that. He said some strange-ass things. Then again, maybe he just had really bad social skills. I'd met people like him. Cookie's cousin Lucille, for example. Or her second cousins. Or her uncle on her mother's side. Her whole family, in fact, was a Harvard study waiting to happen.

But Duff was getting a bit weird for my taste. I liked weird, don't get me wrong, but he was creepy weird, as though every move he made had an ulterior motive. As though he were testing his boundaries, pushing his limits to see how far he could go with me. He was about to find out.

But nothing could have prepared me for what he said next. “I wonder what would happen if someone just pushed you over the line.”

I followed his gaze to the string that marked the boundary; then I turned back to him. “Are you threatening me?”

His eyes widened. “N-no. I would never. I just, I mean, I j-just wonder what they'd do. The hounds.”

“Rip me to shreds.” Well, that was enough crazy for me for one day. “Excuse me, Duff. I need to get back to the wedding party.”

“S-sure,” he said before disappearing. I couldn't help but notice the short but intense glance he'd placed on my midsection. Beep, seeming to notice as well, did a somersault. At least it felt like it. I turned to leave and slammed into a departed thirteen-year-old gangbanger.

“Angel,” I said, enthusiasm raising my voice an octave. I threw my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. I hadn't seen him in a while, and his presence had been sorely missed.

He hugged me back carefully, as though he might squish the baby between us.

“Where have you been?” I asked after setting him at arm's length. He wore the same red bandanna over his brow and a dirty T-shirt. The peach fuzz on his face still tickled when I kissed him. And he brandished the same wicked grin as always, the one that made me wonder what he'd been up to.

“Here and there. You're still hot, you know. I'd still do you.”

“Wow,” I said, forcing my smile wider. “You are too kind, but I'm good.”

He lifted a shoulder. “If you ever change your mind, you have my number.”

I snorted. “I've missed you. How's your family?”

He lowered his head, still not able to fully accept that his best friend's family had become his. “They're good. My mom and her nieces made tamales all day.”

My mouth flooded with saliva. Pavlov totally could have studied me.

“I just wanted to tell you something.”

“That sounds serious,” I teased.

“You need to stay away from him.”

Was this about Reyes? Again? “Sweetheart, I'm married to him, remember? I'm having his child.”

He ducked his head to hide his face. “Not him. That guy that was just here. That cracker
pendejo
who pretends to be your friend.”

My brows slid together in thought. “Duff?” I asked, surprised. He was the only cracker I'd spoken to in the last few minutes besides … My heart skipped a beat. Did he hear me talking with Mr. Alaniz and the Loehrs?

“Whatever his name is. Four-eyed bitch. He looks like a serial killer.”

“Angel, it's not nice to judge based on looks. Not all people who wear glasses are serial killers.”

“That's not what I mean.”

“I know, sweetheart.” I put my fingers under his chin and lifted his face to mine. “Are you okay?”

“I just don't trust him with you.”

“You don't trust Reyes with me either, if I recall.”

He shrugged and ducked his head again. “He's okay.”

“I'm sorry. What did you just say?”

“Rey'aziel. He's okay, I guess.”

Angel couldn't have shocked me more if he'd slapped me. “Are we talking about the same Rey'aziel? The one you warned me about? The one you've hated since … forever?”

He kicked at a rock, missing it since he was incorporeal and all. “He keeps you safe. That's all that matters.”

“That's so sweet.” I pulled him into an awkward hug since he wasn't really joining in. “You are the sweetest gangbanger I know.”

“Okay,” he said, wanting the nightmare to end.

“I wish you were alive.” I set him away from me again. “I'd totally get you a Charley's Angel T-shirt.”

One side of his mouth lifted into an adorable lopsided grin. “Like I would wear it.”

“Oh, I'd blackmail you into wearing it.” We started for the convent arm in arm. I really did have to pee. “You'd wear it every day and thank me.”

“I don't think so, freak.”

We trounced through the brush back to the party, and though I had a lot on my mind, Angel helped keep my mind off my impending doom. Reyes's birth parents showing up out of the blue was going to be a tad difficult to explain. Maybe the hellhounds weren't such a bad alternative to life without Reyes Farrow, because that was exactly what I risked by defying his wishes.

*   *   *

Angel gave me a kiss good-bye, saying he had to check on the tamales before trying to slip his tongue into my mouth, at which point I had to swat his ass. Sadly, I think he enjoyed it. I walked around to the front door, noticing most of the cars were gone now, but that the departed had multiplied. There were more now than when I'd left. All staring straight ahead. Waiting for something, which did nothing to put my mind at ease.

I would have to tell Reyes what I'd done. I would have to face the music, a term I never understood because it made whatever confrontation one had to endure seem bearable. I mean, it was music. How bad could it be to face it? The saying should have implied something direr, like, I would have to face the executioner. Much better.

I grabbed the door handle, but before I could open the front door, Denise opened it for me.

“Where were you?” she asked, almost frantic. “We've been worried about you.”

Gemma walked up behind her and did the crazy sign, which since she was a psychiatrist seemed very unprofessional.

“You can't just go traipsing through the woods like that and not tell anyone where you've gone.”

“But, Mo-o-o-o-om,” I said with a schoolgirl whine, “all the cool kids are doing it. And I'm clearly not a virgin, so I'll survive a traipse through the woods should I come across a slasher.”

She tsked while dragging me in the front door. “I don't understand half of what you say.”

This was like a nightmare. My father gone and my stepmother deciding to pay attention to me after twenty-seven years. Then it hit me. I stilled. It all made sense now. We weren't on sacred ground. Reyes had lied to me. We were in hell!

“You need to go upstairs and rest while we clean up.”

I flashed a boastful smile at Gemma and raised my arms in a long, languid stretch. “You're right. I'm awfully tired. And Beep has been especially active today. She's just worn me ragged.”

Gemma narrowed her gaze before I giggled and hurried upstairs, hoping the loo was
desocupado
. It was. Thank goodness for small favors. As I washed my hands, I noticed a movement behind me. I turned quickly to find my dad, my wonderful, beautiful father, standing there. I'd caught glimpses of him off and on since we moved to the convent, but he never stayed. He never talked. In fact, every time he showed up, he glanced around nervously, as though he were being watched.

“Dad,” I said, walking up to him. Even these few seconds were the longest I'd been able to see him since he passed, and my mind reeled with questions. “Dad, are you okay? What's going on?” I put my hand on his cold face for the first time, and a sob escaped my throat. “Why can't you talk to me?”

“Charlotte,” he said, his voice soft. He stared in amazement, as though seeing me for the first time. “My Charlotte. I had no idea what you are. How important you are.”

“What? Dad—”

“I'm so proud of you.”

As long as I kept contact, he couldn't disappear on me. “Stay and talk to me. Please. I have so many questions.”

“
You
have questions?” he asked with a light chuckle. But something caught his attention. He looked toward the bathroom door, breaking my contact, then was gone. I held my hand in the air a few seconds more, savoring the coolness he'd left in his wake, wondering why he disappeared so abruptly.

A knock sounded at the door, followed by a deep, smooth voice. “Charley?”

Even through the door, I could feel my husband's heat. His inferno. Then I looked back to where my dad had just stood. Was it Reyes? Was he afraid of Reyes?

I opened the door, a new worry creeping into my mind to add to the other one already running rampant. Why would my dad be afraid of him?

“Hey,” he said, narrowing his lashes on me. “You okay?”

“Me? What? Of course.”

He pressed his mouth together, the act causing the most sensual dimples to appear. “Spill.”

At least I had an excuse for my nervousness now. I could use that to keep the truth at bay a little while longer. Once Reyes learned what I'd done, he may never talk to me again. The thought made my throat constrict.

“Dutch,” he said, almost in warning.

“It's just, I saw my dad.”

He glanced inside the bathroom. “Just now?”

“Yeah, but he disappeared again when you walked up.”

He frowned at me, his gaze darting to his left, but he didn't say anything. I looked over his shoulder, and he took the opportunity to nuzzle my neck.

“Where did you go?” he asked.

“For a walk.”

“An odd time for a walk.”

“An odd time to go check on Artemis,” I countered.

He stepped back in alarm. “What did you see?”

It took me a moment, but I realized he thought I was checking up on him. If he thought that, then he was hiding something. Crazy how guilt worked. “Trees. Grass. Bushes. The silvery black hides of hellhounds.”

A muscle in his jaw flexed with tension “How close to the border did you get?”

“Not very. I was just at the gazebo. But I could see them in the distance.”

“If they're that close, maybe you need to stay away from the gazebo.”

“Maybe you need to tell me why you were checking on a departed dog who couldn't possibly get into any trouble.”

He grinned. “Have you met your dog?”

He was right. I relaxed my shoulders. “Okay, she can get into trouble, but—”

“She's been trying to fight the hounds.”

I gasped in surprise. “Artemis? Are you kidding me?”

“I've been trying to keep her away from the border.”

I let out an astonished breath. “Thank you. Why would she even do that?”

“She's your guardian and she sees them as a threat to you. She's very perceptive.”

I nodded absently.

“So, we're grilling. You hungry?”

“Aren't I always?” He had been a fantastic cook before, but put that man behind a grill, and the heavens opened up to watch him work.

“I'll bring you a plate.”

“Perfect.” He was still wearing the tux, the sight of him breathtaking. “You can't change, though.”

“No?” he asked, the dimples back in full force.

“No. I have this whole James Bond fantasy going on.”

“You know, I don't have to return this until Monday.”

I curled my fingers into the lapel and pulled him close. “I have a feeling this is going to be a very
Moonraker
kind of evening.”

*   *   *

Reyes left me at the door to our bedroom, where Cookie and Amber were changing. I joined them, changing out of my dress into a pair of stretchy pants—they had to be stretchy to accommodate my girth—a sweater, and a soft pair of boots.

“Okay,” Cookie said as Amber helped her out of her dress, giggling when her mother's hair got stuck in the zipper, “what's on the agenda?”