Read Eleventh Grave in Moonlight Page 26


  We eased closer. Reyes, who still didn’t want to shift, to heal himself instantaneously, put a finger over his mouth, motioned me to stay back, and stepped toward the wall of hay. He went around what we could see but found no door.

  I gestured to him that I would go around back. He lowered his head and gave me a warning scowl.

  “What?” I mouthed. Fine. I stayed put for Dawn’s sake.

  She stirred, and I bounced her as Reyes pushed, testing the hay in this place or that. When nothing worked, I checked the dirt floor. Maybe there was an underground access point. But before I got too far, we heard a click.

  Reyes had pushed on the side and found a panel of some kind. I stepped over to him as he pulled. A door gave way to total darkness, but they were inside. I could feel them. I patted my jeans for the flashlight Garrett had given me, found it, then jumped when a gunshot splintered the air.

  Without thought, I shifted and slowed time at once. The gun had not been aimed at me. Nor at Reyes. The bullet traveling at what seemed like light speed headed straight toward the back of Dawn’s head.

  I clutched her to me and closed my eyes, only I’d shifted so I could still see. Could still watch as the bullet entered her skull, traveled through it, continued through my neck, and stopped only when Reyes closed his hand around it.

  Anger ignited inside me like the splitting of an atom that set off a nuclear bomb. I turned on them. The evil beings who hurt. Who took advantage of and destroyed. Who murdered in His name. If that wasn’t taking God’s name in vain, I didn’t know what was.

  I had no control over the rage that boiled inside me, the power that burst out of me in one blinding flash. So hot it scorched my skin and singed my hair. So cold it froze the air around us.

  Reyes stepped between me and the Fosters. Wrapped his arms around both Dawn and me. Soothed my soul with his warm breath fanning across my ear. He cupped my chin and his fingers brushed my cheek.

  Then I realized it wasn’t his fingers, but the feathers of his massive, black wings. He was blocking the scene before me. The scene I’d caused. But I was too busy being fascinated with the musical sound I heard when his wings brushed me. A tinkling melody, like ice defrosting under the heat of the sun. And I realized it was ice. His wings were brushing across the ice on my arm. On my face. And then, just as quickly as it had appeared, it evaporated. His heat had melted it.

  Uncle Bob ran in, followed closely by Garrett and Shawn. I knew Ubie and Garrett couldn’t see Reyes’s wings, but I wondered if Shawn could.

  “Take her,” Reyes said, and I realized he’d dematerialized when the gun went off. He’d ruined his injured look, not that we needed it. We had enough on the Fosters to put them away for a very long time.

  It was Garrett’s horrified expression that finally dragged me out of my thoughts. Shawn looked inside and paled. I leaned to see past Reyes, but he wouldn’t let me. He kept himself between me and the room behind him.

  I glared. Then I tensed. Then I worried. What had I done? A spike of anxiety rushed through me, causing an electrical surge to shoot over my skin.

  “Reyes,” I whispered as Garrett wrapped his hands over my shoulders, “what did I do?”

  Garrett urged me back, gently leading me away. But I had to know. I pulled out of his grip and rushed past my husband. Mr. and Mrs. Foster lay in a pile of twisted and mangled limbs, as though every bone in their bodies had been shattered from the inside out. Their heads lay at unnatural angles and it was almost impossible to tell where one Foster sibling ended and the other began.

  I threw a hand over my mouth and turned to Reyes. “I didn’t do that. Did I do that? How could I do that?” Then to Shawn. “I’m so sorry.”

  Reyes bit down and gestured for Garrett to get me away. Several other officers were filing in, wondering where the gunshot had come from, as Garrett led me outside.

  Shawn came out first. A resolved sadness had overcome him. I wanted to talk to him, but say what? Sorry for horridly mangling the people who raised you?

  Reyes came out a while later, but everyone else was taking turns getting a glimpse of the Fosters, as though they were a sideshow attraction.

  He walked up and covered me with a blanket.

  “Dawn should have woken when the gun went off,” I said to him.

  “You shifted her,” Reyes said as though proud of me.

  “That’s why she didn’t wake up?”

  “That would be my guess.”

  I had the feeling her comalike state had something to do with our shift onto a celestial plane as well. If she wasn’t different before, she danged sure would be now.

  “I killed them.”

  “If you hadn’t, I would have. You also saved that little girl’s life. Along with who knows how many others.”

  “But I didn’t just kill them. I … mutilated them.”

  “Dutch—”

  “I really am a monster.”

  He took my shoulders and turned me toward him. “You, Dutch, are by no means a monster. If anything, they got off easy.”

  I didn’t buy it for a minute, but another conundrum popped into my addled mind. “How can I explain this to Uncle Bob?”

  “You don’t have to. The official report will say the Fosters were hiding in a secret room when a wall of cinderblocks they’d stored there fell on them. There was a whole pile out back. It’s taken care of.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I lowered my head and rocked Dawn. An ambulance was waiting to transport her to a hospital in Albuquerque, but I couldn’t put her down just yet. Reyes sat with me, wrapped his arms around both of us, and took some of Dawn’s weight off my back.

  The sun crested the horizon when I noticed a couple, frantic and searching, standing behind the crime-scene tape. They were talking to a young deputy, trying to convince her that they’d been called to the scene by APD.

  I stood, shaking Reyes out of a light slumber, and walked closer.

  “Please, they said they were going to transport our daughter to a hospital, but we couldn’t wait. She’s still out here.”

  “Sir, I can’t let you through either way.”

  But the deputy’s words weren’t getting through. As the man argued with her, the woman spotted me walking forward with my bundle. I recognized them from news articles, so I pulled the blanket off Dawn’s hair. Mrs. Brooks cried out, ducked under the tape, and ran for dear life, dodging one officer after another like a professional running back.

  Dawn must’ve heard her mother’s cries. She blinked awake and rubbed her eyes.

  “Is that funny woman your mommy?” I asked her.

  She finally looked over. After a moment, recognition set in. She took the thumb out of her mouth and bucked her legs in the international signal for put me the hell down. Then she ran as fast as her twelve-inch legs would carry her, meeting her mother at the thirty-yard line.

  Her father wasn’t far behind. They scooped Dawn up and formed a huddle. Only they cried a lot more in theirs than most huddlers do.

  Mrs. Brooks looked over at me just as I started to walk away. “Charley?” she asked.

  Good guess. I nodded and walked back to them.

  “I spoke with your uncle on the phone. He said you helped solve this case.”

  “Only a little.”

  This was definitely a convergence of anomalies. Shawn hiring me. Dr. Schwab’s receptionist, Tiana, opening up to me. Reyes getting abducted. Again.

  “We can’t thank you enough.” Her voice cracked, and her shoulders began to shake.

  I shook my head. “You know who you should really thank?” I stepped closer and told her all about Tiana from Dr. Schwab’s office, where Mrs. Foster had worked. “If not for her, I would never have known about Dawn. Tiana suspected the Fosters had something to do with her disappearance and had even reported them to the police. They just couldn’t find anything on them.”

  “Until now,” Mr. Brooks said. He exuded gratitude, but this was a bizarre case of blind luck and coi
ncidence.

  Then again. I looked toward the heavens. I was beginning to believe less and less in coincidence.

  20

  She has been through hell, so believe me when I say, fear her when she looks into a fire and smiles.

  —E. CORONA

  Two days later, I sat outside Calamity’s, having lunch with Shawn, who was still a little beaten up, and possibly a little sad, but no worse for the wear. Cookie had found his parents, and I wanted to give him the information in person. And to thank him.

  “I can’t believe it,” he said, staring down at the paper. “They really did die in a fire.”

  “I’m sorry. It was most likely set by the Fosters. They didn’t want to risk the authorities coming after them again.”

  “But they did, anyway, right? The authorities?”

  “Yes. When it was discovered that you didn’t die in the fire, they suspected it had been set to cover up your abduction. They just had so little to go on, and the Fosters were clearly good at what they did.”

  He stared at the pictures Cookie had found of them. Ran his fingers over his mother’s face.

  “But you have family. You have an aunt and two uncles and several cousins. I’m sure they’d love to meet you.”

  He nodded, not quite ready to take that step. “Their information is in the file?”

  “It is. And if you need me to make the initial contact, should you decide to meet them, I’d be happy to.”

  “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

  Uncle Bob had found enough evidence to exonerate Veronica Isom. The Fosters may have been psychotic, but they’d kept meticulous records. We were still working on the other children they’d abducted. One was living in Albuquerque. Two more were found at the compound. And countless others were still unaccounted for.

  The press had dubbed them the Divine Siblings. Even above the atrocities they’d committed, the fact that they were married siblings was what caught national headlines.

  Shawn filled his lungs, closed the file, and took a sip of his iced tea. “This is a nice place.”

  “It is. It belonged to my dad before Reyes bought it.”

  “So, Reyes.”

  I thought he might broach that subject eventually.

  “He’s kind of like a brother in a weird, demented kind of way.”

  “I agree.”

  He wanted a brother. I could sense it. He wanted someone he could talk to. Someone he could confide in like he had the other night. They’d gotten along so well, I felt Reyes would benefit from such a relationship as well.

  “Shawn, I have to ask. Why did you give the Fosters an alibi the night Dawn Brooks was taken? You told the police they had been home that night.”

  “Because they really were home. But as you can tell, they had a lot of followers who would do anything they told them to.” He dipped his chin and bit down. “Anything.”

  I could only wonder what he meant by that. “Why not tell me about the compound?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I grew up out there. Spent my summers there. Those people were like family. They were just … lost.”

  “And murderous.”

  He nodded. “I didn’t know. Mom—” He cleared his throat. “Eve kept that part private. All I knew was that I loved going out there even though the adults were crazy. That’s what we thought growing up.”

  “We?”

  “Us kids who were raised at the compound. We always knew something wasn’t quite right there.”

  “Did you know the Fosters were brother and sister?”

  He froze. Pressed his mouth together. Grew even paler.

  Crap. “You know what? Let’s just save that for later.”

  He shook his head. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

  Apparently he hadn’t seen the paper. I looked down and gave him a moment to deal. But I eventually let my gaze wander up and went back to staring.

  Knowing what Shawn was, the product of a union thousands of years ago between an angel and a human, had kept my gaze locked onto him through most of lunch. Like, I couldn’t stop staring. He was a blond version of Reyes. Absolutely beautiful, though not as compelling. Not as … what was the word? Sexy? Exotic? Dripping with sin? But still. The coolness factor sitting across from me rated right up there with pumpkin spiced lattes and Chuck Norris.

  Shawn chuckled, probably trying to cover up for the awkward silence of my thousand-yard stare.

  “What?” I snapped out of it. “Wow, I’m so sorry, Shawn. It’s just, I didn’t know your kind existed. It’s so cool.”

  “Well, in all fairness, I didn’t know your kind existed, either. I mean, have you looked in the mirror?”

  “Do I have something in my teeth?” I turned to look at my reflection in the window behind us.

  “No, I mean, your light. It’s crazy bright.”

  “Yeah, I can’t really see it, though I did force it into a former slave demon from hell so that I could sneak up on a god incognito, and I saw it then. Really bright.”

  “Is that how you did it?”

  I turned to an elderly man standing beside us, stunned that he’d gotten that close without my feeling his presence. His essence.

  Then again, he emanated zero emotion. That wasn’t what I did feel. I felt the staggering power radiating out of him. The waves of energy.

  Shawn knew something about the man was different. I felt interest from him. And confusion.

  “How I did what?” I arched a brow as arrogantly as I could. “How I snuck up on your bestie and took him out in a matter of minutes?”

  Shawn grew alarmed. He glanced over his shoulder, wondering if he should go inside and get Reyes.

  The man shuffled toward us, barely able to walk, but we both knew that was not the case. When he came around, a little girl stepped out from behind him. He held her hand, the smile on her face forced there, plastic like a Barbie’s.

  “Eidolon, I presume?”

  He was corporeal. He’d taken a human body. He had blood that could be used to trap him. I slid a hand inside my pocket and wrapped my fingers around the god glass.

  He held up a palm to stop me. “Please. I am not half as stupid as my … bestie? If you even think of taking the glass out of your pocket, I’ll snap the girl’s neck.” He sat down and hugged the girl to him, his hand tight around her jaw. But her smile stayed in place. Her eyes remained unblinking. “And if you summon him, she won’t live long enough to see him materialize.”

  I could only assume he meant Reyes.

  “You’ve already lost one of your precious humans. Although all I see is old leather and a bag of bones.”

  The poor man whose body Eidolon had confiscated had died the moment he took it over. The power was too much for the human system. And it would start to decay immediately. Eidolon didn’t have much time.

  “I only took him because he was close by and he could hold me long enough to have this chat.” He pointed an aged finger at me. “I know how much you humans like to chat.” He smiled wide and indicated the girl. “Plus, this body came with a ready-made bargaining chip. She is his granddaughter. Two for the price of one.”

  The walls of my chest tightened. As did his grip on her jaw. Tears slipped past her lashes and slid like silver ribbons down her face.

  “Please let her go. Take me instead.”

  “Posh.” He waved off the notion. “You think I don’t know what you are?”

  “You’re one, too. You could kill me. Just let her go.”

  “Don’t patronize me,” he ordered from between gritted teeth. “I told you. I know what you are, Elle-Ryn.”

  I blinked in confusion. A god could kill another god. What did he mean?

  “You are thirteen strong. You have gifts passed down from the original seven, made stronger every time you”—he leaned in and chuckled—“conquered another of your brethren. I’ll wait for the right moment, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Conquered? I don’t understand. The seven original gods
from my plane melded together.”

  He burst out laughing. Because of the host he’d chosen, it came out more as a cackle. Did he choose an elderly man to set our minds at ease? To make himself appear harmless? ’Cause it wasn’t working.

  “They melded? Who told you that, little god?”

  “I’m not little. If what you say is true, I’m stronger than you.”

  “That you are. I meant no offense. I only meant that, of all the gods to exist, you are the youngest. Have you not heard what you are called?”

  I knew it before he said it.

  “You are the god eater. The one to survive a war that raged for eons. The lone survivor, for you eventually ate them all. You are the victor, and to the victor goes the spoils.” He gestured toward Reyes, who was inside working the bar. “And what lovely spoils they are.”

  When Shawn inched closer, Eidolon tightened his hold on the girl’s throat. He held her in some kind of a trance. On the outside, she looked perfectly calm. But on the inside, terror ripped her mind to shreds. He was torturing her. Terrorizing her.

  Shawn backed down but didn’t relax.

  “You’re lying,” I said, racking my brain for some kind of plan. No way could I get to the girl. He’d snap her neck before I got two inches. “My dimension is peaceful. I’ve seen it.”

  He roared at that, his false teeth almost flying out. He stuffed them back in. “Jehovah really did a number on you, did He not? A number. Where do they come up with such witty phrases, do you suppose?”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “You are the most violent of all the war gods from your dimension. And the most cunning. Which would explain why you are here instead of Al-Deesh or Ran-Eeth or Ayn-Eethial or … I could go on. Or perhaps you don’t remember the gods you ate?”

  I ate gods? I really was a god eater? In the literal sense? Was I any different than the Colombian who wanted to eat my flesh to absorb my power?

  No. He was wrong. Ran-Eeth and Ayn-Eethial merged to form me. That much I did remember. He was lying.

  “Why do you think you’re here?” he continued. “Jehovah is babysitting you. Nothing more. Do you think He needed to outsource for the reaper position? He had His choice among billions.”