Eighth Grave After Dark
Page 71“Where is she?” I asked, keeping my fingertips on him.
He glowered at me, his blistering features contorting under the heat. “Why should I tell you? What more can you do to me?”
I took my hand away and he cried out in agony as the lava took him again. What most people didn’t know was that hell is only a temporary punishment. You simply ceased to exist after, but you burned for a limited amount of time, the amount depending on what you did to warrant a trip to the basement. After replacing my hand, giving him a small measure of relief, I leaned in. “Because I can make this last forever.”
He knew he had no recourse. No bargaining chip. It was agony for a little while or agony forever. He decided to try to get in my good graces.
He lowered his head. “At my house. She’s at my house.”
“Liar,” I said, my voice a husky version of the original, mostly because my throat had been burned to a crisp. “We’ve looked.”
“There is a room. The fireplace pulls out. It’s an old panic room. Solid concrete. She’s in there.” When he looked back at me, his face was full of remorse. “I didn’t mean to kill her. Olivia Dern. It was an accident.”
The girl from high school. “And what about Faris?”
I had no idea what he was talking about, nor did I care. I only wanted out of the literally godforsaken place.
When I let go, he lunged for me, but it was too late. He’d solidified to the spot and began melting back into the ground whence he came.
“Please take me with you!” he yelled, but his voice was distant and intermingled with the thousands of others.
I stepped back away from him and turned full circle. It was like an entire planet of just melting bodies. But underneath the melted faces at my feet, through the glowing glass, I saw the huge black eyes of demons. The razor-sharp teeth. The thick shiny scales.
They were coming for me. I had trespassed and they were swimming up through the bodies to get to me. I stumbled back and fell, the heat of the molten floor beneath me scorching the skin off my palms. Scrambling back onto my feet, I saw one of them. He walked straight for me, his skin blackening just like mine, his flesh molten just like mine. But this was no demon. He walked purposefully, his gait primal, as smooth as a panther’s. I stood transfixed, unable to believe my eyes until Reyes was upon me, his hand around my throat.
* * *
He didn’t talk. He didn’t say a word. He simply held me by my throat as fury surged through him. Even here I could feel it. His emotions. His palpable anger.
The blackened parts of his face faded and the frost was back. A thin layer of ice covered his mouth, spiked his dark lashes.
Then his heat blasted across my skin again and he thrust me against the nearest wall.
I didn’t move. Instead, I allowed him to catch his breath. To remember who I was and what I meant to him. If he couldn’t, if the beast he was in hell had come back in full force, I would have no choice but to disable him. But this was Reyes who held me. In all his glory. In all his rage. It was still Reyes.
He glared at me, his dark brown irises shimmering dangerously. He was trying to get his emotions under control. I let him. I gave him all the leeway he needed. His wide chest heaved and he moved at last, leaned into me, tightened his grip on my neck, but not enough to cause me discomfort. Quite the opposite. But he was too frustrated, too enraged to take advantage of the raw power rushing through his veins. He growled, a low and guttural sound, then hit the wall by my head with such force, he dented the drywall and broke a stud. It cracked loudly.
That was when I realized we had an audience. Osh stood near me as though to stop Reyes should he take it too far. Garrett wasn’t far behind him. Angel stood off to the side by the washer, his face averted. Had he ratted me out? No matter. I’d gotten what I went in for.
Last but not least was Cookie. She stood, fear radiating out of her in waves. Fear for me and for Reyes. He could easily do something he would regret later. She didn’t want that. Not for either of us.
The soft sounds of a baby breathing drifted to us and we both turned. Cookie was holding Beep, her sweet face like a salve on the stinging wounds we’d rubbed raw. Reyes’s biting emotions shuddered through him. He turned from me, from us all, as wetness slipped past his lashes.
“Why?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“I needed information from that man.”
“For a case?” he scoffed, and turned from me in disbelief. “You risked everything for a case?”
“I knew I wasn’t in any danger.”
He was in front of me at once. He dug a hand into my hair, his actions almost cruel. “You are a fool if you actually believe that.”
I raised my chin. His opinion of me, of what I did, was a little more than I wanted to bear sometimes. “You keep telling me I’m a god. Why, if that’s true, would I be in any danger?”