Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet (11 page)

He gave one last, valiant effort to shake Reyes off, but Reyes was too strong. He
wrestled him to the ground, and in one sharp move, he twisted the man’s head to the
side and broke his neck. The surreal crack that followed, the unorthodox angle of
his neck, the life draining out of him in seconds flat, caused another gallon of adrenaline
to dump down my spine. And his smell, like rotten eggs, assaulted my senses.

A wave of nausea swept over me. I glanced around, tried to steady myself and to see
who had witnessed Reyes break a man’s neck. The warehouse was almost empty now. A
few stragglers stood in the shadows, mostly the bouncers and a couple other workers,
their faces frozen in shock as they took in the dead guy.

Then Reyes was up. He grabbed my jacket and jerked me to attention. “What is it going
to take to get you to listen to me?”

The colossal adrenaline dump that had overloaded my system now needed a place to go.
With every ounce of strength I had, I pushed him off, rushed to the wall, and emptied
the contents of my stomach onto the concrete foundation.

It was weird. I’d never had that kind of reaction to being attacked. I was usually
much more composed. Or if not composed, vertical at least. But this time, I could
barely stand. The world spun around me as my stomach heaved violently. That would
explain the shaking and why I had an inexplicable compulsion to double over. But why?
Why now? Why this guy?

Reyes didn’t give me time to finish, to catch my breath. He grabbed the back of my
jacket again and dragged me toward the door. I thought about fighting him, but that
would take an energy I just didn’t seem to possess. I felt like a rag doll in his
grasp, my limbs hanging at my side, limp and useless. So I argued instead. I always
had the energy to argue.

I wiped my mouth on my sleeve, swallowing back another lurch of my stomach, and said
in a muffled voice, “Let me go.”

He didn’t. He continued to drag me across the floor like a used mop. I felt his manhandling
unnecessary and uncalled for, but fighting to keep bile down was taking all my mental
energy.

I managed a few words between a heave and a swallow. “What was that?”

I knew, of course, but it was just too unreal. Too horrible for me to fully absorb.
I had no idea humans could really be possessed. Figured it was just a movie device
to cause goose bumps and nightmares. Or something preachers said to keep their parishioners
in line.

But that man had been possessed, sure as I was standing there. Or, well, being dragged
across the floor there.

We were halfway to the door when Reyes whipped me around to face him, clutching my
shoulders in a death grip, his expression more angry than, say, understanding. So,
naturally, I got annoyed. I’d just barfed. Did he have no sense of decency? Sadly,
I could do nothing about it at the moment. I swallowed again and tried to push at
his arms.

“Get in that Jeep of yours and get out of here, or I swear by all that is holy—”

While I was totally into the conversation and had every intention of listening to
his seven thousandth threat, certain I’d take it to heart, I heard another crack.
It was quickly followed by a guttural moan. Then another crack. And another moan that
seemed more like the screech of a wounded owl.

I looked to my left, to where Reyes’s opponent lay dead. Only he wasn’t dead. He was
up on all fours, craning his neck from side to side as though popping it after a long
night’s sleep. Blackness swirled around him again as though the demon inside him had
a hard time staying within the confines of the physical body it inhabited.

Reyes jerked me forward until his face was inches from my own. “Leave.”

Then it leapt. Like a tiger in the tall grasses of India, the man launched himself
toward us. Toward me. Reyes pushed me down so hard, my head bounced, this time off
the cement foundation. But the stars that followed were upstaged by one thing. As
Reyes stepped protectively in front of me, tensed, readying himself for the attack,
another growl, deep and guttural, echoed from the deepest corners of the universe.

With a ferocious snarl, Artemis jumped out of nowhere and ripped through the guy as
he leapt forward. His physical body drifted forward, then landed with a hard thud,
skidding across the floor, while the demon shrieked and writhed beside it under the
attack of my guardian. Its teeth clamped down on Artemis’s neck. Its claws swiped
at her back. She let out a yelp, but kept at it, her head shaking the agonized demon,
her teeth tearing until a blackness, like a gaseous blood, seeped out, crept along
the floor, then dissipated just like the demon itself.

I spared a quick glance at my attacker. No doubt about it this time. The man was dead.
His eyes stared at nothing, fixed and lifeless.

Then Artemis turned toward me, lowered her head, bared her fangs, and let another
guttural growl rumble out of her chest. And I thought we were friends. But Reyes had
turned around as well, and damned if he didn’t do the same. I got that feeling of
insecurity, like when I had something stuck in my teeth. Only they were looking over
me, just past my head.

That’s when I felt the cold desolation of hatred at the back of my neck, and I knew
there was another one. I looked up and into the vacant eyes of the boy in the Slipknot
hoodie. He was much smaller than the Hulk, but his curious determination, and the
saliva dripping off his chin, was no less scary. Just as he pitched toward me, Artemis
shot across the floor and bolted straight through him like a dart. She tore the demon
out of him and proceeded to maul the thing to its smoky death.

The boy dropped the second the demon left him. He curled into a ball, and that’s when
recognition hit. It was the kid from my backseat. The kid I thought was dead. His
blond hair was matted and dirty. His blue eyes somehow darker. Had the demon occupying
his body sent his soul somewhere else? Maybe there wasn’t room for the both of them.

I blinked in startled realization until Reyes lifted me off the ground. Again. Being
manhandled by the son of Satan was getting old, but I was too weak to do much about
it. He started dragging me toward the door once more.

“Wait,” I said, fighting his hold. “Get the boy.”

“No.”

With a jolt of stubbornness, I twisted and jerked out of Reyes’s grip. He stopped
and glared.

“Fine. Glare, glower, scowl, I don’t care, but I am not leaving this warehouse without
that kid.” When Reyes crossed his arms over his chest, I continued. “He was possessed.
An innocent boy.”

Artemis leapt up to me then and barked playfully. I kneeled down and nuzzled against
her before looking up at Reyes again, thrilled that she hadn’t attacked him.

“Why would they choose a boy like that?”

“They have their reasons. The same reasons you need to leave.”

“Can he be possessed again? Will they come after him again?”

He looked back in thought. “It’s possible.”

I rushed over to the boy, knelt down to push his hair back from his dirty face. Artemis
came over and tried to lick it. When she realized she couldn’t, she hunched down beside
him. “How can we make sure they don’t?”

Reyes knelt, too, and checked the kid’s pulse. Artemis seemed completely uninterested
in him until he reached for the kid. “They can’t touch him on hallowed ground,” he
explained as Artemis scooted forward and licked his wrist.

“Really?” I asked, surprised by both the information and Artemis’s reaction to him.
I was worried that since he was the son of Satan, she’d try to rip out his jugular.
“You mean like churches and cemeteries?”

“Yes.” He offered her ears a quick rub, then turned the kid’s face up and lifted his
eyelids. “He’s in shock.”

“We have to get him to safety.” I put a hand on his forearm. “Please, Reyes.” Artemis
whined as though asking for his help as well.

Fighting the frustration he felt, he bent down and lifted the kid into his arms. He
wasn’t exactly small, but Reyes had no difficulty rising to his feet with a sixteen-year-old
kid in his arms. Artemis barked in excitement, offered me one last nuzzle, then disappeared
to wherever she’d come from, leaping into the earth beneath us. I couldn’t help but
be in awe. Where the heck did she stay?

I looked back at the other man who’d been possessed, Reyes’s opponent. A current of
guilt jolted through me. He’d been innocent, too.

“Not that one,” Reyes said, kicking the door open. Most of the cars were gone. Thankfully,
the rain had stopped. I followed beside them, watching the boy carefully.

“Which one?”

“The man inside. He was not worthy of your sympathy.”

“But he was innocent.” I hurried around and unlocked the passenger’s door.

“No, he wasn’t. Pull the seatback forward.”

I noticed the kid’s incorporeal essence was no longer in my backseat. Was he back
in his body? Is that how it worked? I pulled the seat forward and Reyes deposited
the kid in the back.

“Keys.”

“Wait—are you driving my Jeep somewhere?”

“I’m driving you away from here. Give me the keys and get in.”

“I can drive myself, thank you very much.”

“And what if he gets possessed again while you’re driving up I-25?”

I tossed him the keys. “The transmission sticks a little.”

He climbed in the other side as sirens sounded from the east. We headed west, skidding
through the wet parking lot and swerving onto Second. “Where are we taking him?” he
asked.

“I know just where to keep him for now. They’ll know what to do. Just get to Central
and head east.”

Only after the sirens grew too distant to hear did I remember that we’d left Elaine
Oake at the warehouse. I wondered if I should mention it, then realized I had to get
over my pettiness. She could be in danger. “We left your girlfriend back there.”

One corner of his mouth lifted in indifference.

“And we just left a crime scene.”

Another shrug of indifference.

“I can’t just leave a crime scene,” I said, realizing what I’d done.

“You can this time.”

I looked over my shoulder. “Maybe we should go back. They’re going to want to know
how that man died.”

He didn’t seem to care about that either. “Are you broke?”

The last thing I wanted to talk about were my financial woes. I wanted to discuss
demons and possession and how innocent children suddenly became pawns in this war
Reyes had been warning me about. But I decided to placate him. Maybe my cooperation
would help him open up.

“I moved out of my offices,” I said, trying to block the pain of my father’s betrayal.
Reyes would be able to feel it anyway. “And I just haven’t gotten back on my feet
after the accident.”

“You’re calling what Walker did to you an accident?”

“It makes me feel better, so yes.” I didn’t enjoy pondering the fact that what Earl
Walker did to me was no accident. He’d come after me with two goals in mind: Interrogate
through the use of torture, then kill. But the word
accident
seemed to make the whole thing more palatable.

Reyes’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry, Dutch. I never thought
he’d come after you.”

Hoping to dismiss the conversation, I folded my arms in suspicion. “Are you trying
to get out of paying your bill?”

He almost grinned. “How did you come up with a million dollars?”

I plucked a string off my jacket. “I added my regular daily charge plus expenses,
then rounded up.”

After a quick sideways glance, he asked, “You’re not very good at math, are you?”

Since we were on the subject of changing the subject, I decided to ask a question
of my own. “Why are you staying with her?”

He looked at me just as a passing car’s headlights lit his face, the low beams shimmering
in his rich brown eyes. “She offered.”

“You could stay with Amador and Bianca,” I said, mentioning the only true friends
he seemed to have.

He turned back to the road. “I could stay with you.”

I snorted. “Not likely.” Though it was a ridiculously nice thought, one that sent
a spark of interest jolting through my nether regions. Since we were being civil to
each other, I said, “I’m glad you’re out.”

“Prove it,” he said as a wicked grin spread across his face. I ignored the flip-flop
of my stomach.

“I’ll expect a check soon. Don’t make me come looking for you again. It’s just up
here.” I pointed to a building that sat perpendicular to one of the oldest churches
in Albuquerque. A sign outside it read
THE SISTERS OF THE IMMACULATE CROSS
.

“You’re taking him to a convent?” he asked.

“It’s hallowed ground.” And they would take him in. I looked back at the kid. How
could they not?

Reyes slowed to a stop beside the adobe building and put Misery in park. A single
light illuminated the front door.

Instead of getting out, I turned to my chauffer. “I have to know more about this,
Reyes. If they’re after me, I have the right to know what’s going on.”

He turned off the motor and gazed out his window. “I’m still working on the hows and
whys.”

“That’s fine. I’ll settle for the whats.”

When he didn’t elaborate, I climbed out and pulled my seatback forward with every
intention of dealing with him later. The kid was still unconscious, but he stirred.
Reyes got out and came around the car just as another thought hit me. One I’d completely
forgotten about.

“I meant to ask you, when I saw you this morning outside my dad’s bar, another man
waved at you.”

He leaned against Misery’s quarter panel and folded his arms at his chest. “That happens
sometimes. We live in a crazy world.”

“No, I mean, you were there, right? Your physical body?”

“Why do you ask?” he asked with an uncomfortable shift.

“Because you dematerialized. You. All of you.”

A devilish grin played upon his sensual mouth. “Dutch, you know that’s impossible.”