Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet (10 page)

“Wendell wants you to make this one last,” she said, her voice weak, uncertain. I
could feel anxiety coming off her from where I stood.

When a tall woman with short blond hair stepped into the light, I realized who she
was and almost seized. Elaine Oake? The woman with the website? The woman with the
museum dedicated to all things Reyes Farrow, stocked with dozens of items stolen from
Reyes and smuggled out of the prison by guards? Guards that she paid? She was here?
With Reyes?

When I thought of how she was nothing more than a prison groupie, a rich woman who
had stalked Reyes the entire time he was in prison, who’d paid guards to get information
on him, to steal items from his cell and take pictures when he wasn’t looking, my
astonishment shifted from the thought of demons roaming the hills and valleys of Earth
to the thought of this woman roaming the hills and valleys of Reyes’s body. An acrid
and infuriating kind of jealousy erupted in my chest and surged out of me in a humiliating
burst of resentment.

I fought to tamp it down, but she had to see the utter shock on my face. Hers showed,
too. As well as her insecurity. Reyes was dangerously close, and clearly she didn’t
like that. Then recognition flitted across her face, followed by another tangible
wave of shock.

“Rey?” she asked again. “Do you know who this is?”

He released a heavy breath from between his suddenly clenched teeth. “Yes.”

“Oh, okay.” She stepped over to us. “Are you here on a case?” she asked me, the hope
so evident in her eyes, I almost felt sorry for her.

“I’m here collecting on one, yes.”

“Oh, well, whatever it is, I can pay it. I’m Reyes’s manager.” She turned toward him
and placed a timid hand on his arm. “You need to get ready. This fight is almost over.”
Then she forced a smile. “They’re all here for you anyway. That fight was just a filler,
something to cleanse the palate between rounds.”

He was fighting again tonight? And she was cool with that?

My knee-jerk reaction was to rip out her short, perfectly coiffed hair, and I chastised
myself inwardly. Reyes was not mine. I had no say in anything that he did, including
the fights, and he knew it. He’d been in prison for over a decade for a crime he didn’t
commit, and here I was trying to control him. Just like they did. Every single day
for over ten years. Every movement, every thought, controlled by a trustee or a guard
or a warden.

But still, Elaine Oake?

“And we need to get home before the new sponsors show up,” she added. “They’re very
eager to meet you.”

I almost fainted. Home? He was living with her? The depths of my astonishment seemed
to know no bounds. I was lost for a moment, reeling as each new discovery sank in.

Reyes examined my face, watching every move, every reaction.

“Can you give us a minute?” he asked, and I wasn’t sure which one of us he was talking
to. Wasn’t sure if I cared.

“O-okay,” Elaine said. She strolled off slowly, as if it took every ounce of strength
she possessed to do so.

“You’re living with her?” I asked under my breath. “Do you have any idea who she is?”

“Yes.” He waited a moment, then added, “And yes.”

A soft laugh of astonishment escaped before I could stop it. I turned to leave, but
he took hold of the table and blocked my path. I shot a look toward Elaine. She’d
stopped just past the wall of lockers and didn’t miss the maneuver. And I didn’t miss
the hurt in her eyes.

Welcome to the world of Reyes Farrow.

“You need to move,” I told him.

“You didn’t answer me. What would you like me to do with this body you insist I keep?”

I raised a hateful glare at him. “Send it back to hell.”

His smile was like a hot poker in my stomach. Was he enjoying this? My bewilderment?
My pain? “Can’t do that when there’s so much to entertain me here on Earth.”

“Entertainment? Is that what I am to you?”

A man walked into the room. His trainer. “You’re on.”

“Well?” Reyes asked again, still waiting for a legitimate answer.

This was getting ridiculous. I noticed Elaine just outside the door, looking in, her
brows crinkled in concern. “Your girlfriend is fretting,” I said, trying to change
the subject.

“Jealous?”

“Not in the least.”

“’Cause you seem jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. I just can’t believe—”

“My abs?”

My stomach flip-flopped. I took a calming breath, and said, “Your taste.”

“My taste is just fine.” He lifted my chin with a taped hand. “You don’t want me around,
so why do you care anyway?”

“I don’t.”

“Then why are you here?”

“You owe me for my services.”

“Aw, so all those times I saved your life?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “Bill me.”

He leaned in and whispered, “I would rather fuck you.”

“I would rather you let go.”

“But you haven’t answered my question.” He put his mouth at my ear, his breath fanning
over it, down my neck, and spilling onto my shoulder in an intoxicating wave of delight.
“What do you want me to do with my body, Dutch?”

After a solid minute, I said, “Take it to go see your sister.”

Mentioning his beloved sister was like throwing ice water in his face. He cooled instantly,
his body tense, rigid.

“You’re on,” the trainer said more forcefully. “Get out there and—”

When Reyes turned on him like a cobra ready to strike, the man stepped back. His eyes
widened for a fraction of a second before he raised his hands in surrender. “We’re
going to lose this spot if you don’t get out there. That’s all I’m saying.”

Reyes seemed to calm. He turned to me, wrapped his fingers into my collar, and pulled
me forward until his mouth was only centimeters from mine. “Go home.” He let go with
a soft shove, and I swatted at his hand in response. But he was already headed for
the door.

Go home, my left ass cheek.

6

Why kill them with kindness when you can use an axe?

—T-SHIRT

I stood in a less crowded area of the warehouse, still dumbfounded. He was living
with her? That woman? That stalker? To say that I was astonished would have been the
biggest understatement since “Houston, we have a problem.” I was thunderstruck.

But holy cow, he was living with her? My jealously seemed endless, and I hated it.
I would rather be attacked by rabid fire ants than be jealous. The superfluous emotion
was a combination of fear, rage, humiliation, and insecurity. I looked down at the
expanse of girl parts I carried on my chest, also known as Danger and Will Robinson.
Clearly, I had no reason to be insecure.

As much as I did
not
want to see Reyes fight again, I sidled into a dark corner to do that very thing.
He wouldn’t be able to see me from here and get his panties in a twist. Thankfully,
the platform was high enough for me to see the action over the crush of spectators.
But I stepped onto a cement pylon a metal beam was bolted to, wrapped my arms around
the beam, and searched for Reyes.

He’d been talking with his trainer and turned to go into the cage, but after walking
up the first step, he paused. Looked down. Took a deep breath. Then placed a pointed
stare right on me. I scooted farther into the corner. How could he possibly see me?
Maybe he was looking at someone else. He tilted his head before lifting a long arm
and pointing to the exit behind me.

In one choreographed wave, the sea of heads turned to investigate. I turned, too,
so they wouldn’t know he was talking to me. When I looked back, he’d crossed his arms
over his chest and glared. I jumped off the pylon and crossed my arms, too. Only mine
were crossed in defiance. If he wanted me out so bad, he could come drag me out himself.

Wait, no, that probably wasn’t a good idea.

Before I could decide what to do, the crowd started to cheer again as Reyes’s opponent
appeared out of the rooms opposite him. Reyes shifted his focus when the guy emerged
on the stairs. I could see why. He was even bigger than the last, more muscular. Reyes
was a big guy, but he was lean, solid, built for speed just as much as for strength.
This guy was all strength. He looked more like a professional bodybuilder than like
a fighter. And as awesome as Reyes’s reach was, this guy’s had to be at least four
inches longer.

My heart jumped and lodged in my throat at the sight of him. I knew Reyes was a supernatural
being, but he was wounded and this guy was huge. I took a step forward as he entered
the cage. But Reyes stayed on the stairs outside his entrance. Watching. Studying.
He’d dropped his arms and dropped his head and stood eyeing the guy from underneath
his lashes as though he were waiting for something. But what?

The crowd fell silent as they waited with bated breath. The opponent had stopped dead
in his tracks and was staring back at Reyes. Then he frowned and looked down as though
confused. That’s when I saw it: A blur in his movements. A disturbance in his aura.
He shook his head as though to clear it. A heartbeat later, his eyes were locked on
to mine. They widened in surprise as recognition flashed across his face. I had no
idea why. I’d never seen the guy. But when he let out an animalistic shriek, fear
rocketed down my spine and across my skin.

I stumbled back as the guy ignored the exit gates and bounded over the cage with the
speed and grace of an animal. A huge animal with a deep-seated hatred twisting his
features. I tried to slow the world, to stop his progress—I’d done it in the past,
before the Earl Walker incident—but it wouldn’t happen. I couldn’t control anything,
including the raging beat of my pulse in my ears.

Somewhere in my periphery, I noticed Reyes as he tried to intercept him. He’d scaled
the cage in one leap and launched himself into the air, missing the guy by inches.
He reached back, grabbed the top of the cage, executed a magnificent turn in midair,
and launched himself again. The cage walls buckled under the pressure of his weight
and the force it must have taken him to catapult himself into the crowd.

Then he disappeared behind the opponent. The hulking fighter landed only a few yards
away from me and barreled forward, pummeling anyone who stood in his way like a battering
ram, his face a mask of furious determination.

And I didn’t even know the guy.

I tried to turn and run. With every ounce of strength I had, I tried to force my feet
to head in the opposite direction, but I could only stare. Watch as he got closer
and closer. Drool rolled out of his shrieking mouth like the foam of a rabid dog.
He wanted me dead. And he craved my death like addicts craved their next high. I could
feel it. In one caustic blast, his murderous intentions hit me a microsecond before
he did.

He slammed into me with the force of a freight train, knocking me senseless, but he
had only enough time to send me crashing against the wall behind me before he went
down. Probably because an equally angry Reyes was on his back. He tackled the guy
to the floor, wrenching a loud scream from the guy’s throat as he tried to shake Reyes
off. Still, the guy kept coming forward. Kept fighting and crawling and inching toward
me as I pressed against the wall, stewing in my own bewilderment. And agony. My head
had whipped back when I hit, and a startlingly sharp jolt of pain ripped through me
like a tornado hell-bent on eating half of Barbara, my brain.

Faced with such bizarre and violent behavior, the crowd panicked. Several were hurt
the moment the guy landed, but more were getting hurt in the crush of bodies, some
trying to get out, some angling for a better look. Screams and shouts erupted and
grew louder and louder as the guy did everything in his power to get to me.

“Go!”

I looked at Reyes. Keeping the man subdued was taking all his strength, and that’s
when I knew the guy could not possibly be human. Or at least not all human.

He fought for a better hold and wrapped the guy in a headlock before offering me another
glare. “Charley, for fuck’s sake, go!” he shouted through clenched teeth.

I scrambled to my feet as the guy elbowed Reyes’s jaw, loosening his hold just enough
to gain another six inches. He refocused on me, his face contorted with a hateful
sneer, saliva bubbling out of his mouth, blood gushing from his nose, but his only
goal was to get to me. He clawed forward, his nails scraping on the cement floor,
breaking as he fought for ground.

The chaos around me took on a life of its own. It rose to a cacophonic frenzy. Screams
echoed from all corners of the warehouse as the spectators ran for the doors. I doubted
any one of them even knew what they were running from at that point. People were screaming.
People were running. And that was good enough for them. They followed suit only because
not to do so would be detrimental to their health. They simply had no choice.

I’d started for the door when I noticed a kid in a Slipknot hoodie. He fell and would
be trampled in a matter of seconds if no one went to his aid. I tried to rush forward,
but the throngs of frenzied spectators pushed me back. I lost sight of the kid altogether.

Then I heard another growl. I had to turn back, to check on Reyes. The man had made
some headway. He was once again only a few feet from me. As I placed one foot behind
the other, unable to take my eyes off Reyes and the Hulk, a darkness emerged from
him, the opponent, the crazy guy clawing toward me with a rabid fervor. For a split
second, another head emerged out of his own. As black and dark as the outermost fringes
of the universe. Teeth sharp as an obsidian razor and honed to a needlelike point.
Then the beast was back inside him and I realized what I was looking at. A demon.

No. I stepped back again. No. A man possessed by a demon. I’d seen demons before when
they’d tortured Reyes. Their spiderlike bodies. Their sinewy limbs that bent and twisted
at unnatural angles. Their eyeless heads that consisted of teeth, teeth, and more
teeth. And one was inside this man. He quaked with a fierce, animalistic need to rip
me to shreds. He wanted me so badly, the hunger of it radiated toward me.