Eighth Grave After Dark
Page 86* * *
I pressed my fingers to my head, marveling at the agony therein, wondering why it felt like my brain had just exploded. I was on my back. I wondered about that, too. I didn’t remember being on my back. I didn’t remember being much of anything, my head hurt so bad. Pain rocketed through it in nauseating waves as I tried to figure out where I kept pain medication.
Then another sensation hit me. A biting cold like I’d never felt before, and I realized I couldn’t remember where I was. Wondering if I’d sleepwalked, I tried to open my eyes. They wouldn’t budge at first, but they were being pelted with ice-cold water, and I needed to find out why.
It took a minute, but I finally managed to pry them open enough to constitute two slits. Rain fell in huge, sleet-filled drops, stinging my face when they landed. I raised my arms to shield my eyes and saw a huge Rottweiler standing over me. The moment my gaze landed on him, he whimpered and licked my face. But his affection was just as cold as the rain.
A yellow light floated above me. A security light. Pebbles bored into my back and scraped my elbows as I struggled to a sitting position. I petted the Rottweiler, assured him—her—I was okay. She finally let up and stepped back to give me some space. Still groggy, I looked to my left, then to my right. A dark alley stretched out in either direction. I focused on a faded sign that hung on a door directly in front of me. It read THE FIRELIGHT GRILL. To the left of that, a historical marker on the building itself read THE FIRE HOUSE, EST. 1755, SLEEPY HOLLOW, NY.
Okay. That answered that.
With legs made of lead, I took a crack at standing. Once I gained my footing, I stumbled toward the door. Even though it was a back door, I turned the knob and went inside, holding it open for the dog. That would garner a code violation and probably a swift kick out of there if they didn’t call the cops on me first.
Thick brown hair hung in clumps over my shoulders and down my back. I had to push it out of my face repeatedly with blue, glacial hands. I could only imagine what the rest of me looked like. I glanced down at my waterlogged boots and shook my head. No need to worry about looks at the moment. There were more important things to consider.
I stepped inside a dark hallway and walked forward. A small room filled with supplies sat on the right, and a door with an OFFICE sign on my left. Ahead of me was a kitchen. I forced my frozen feet forward, taking it one step at a time. The café itself was dark, but one man was busy in the brightly lit kitchen, cleaning up for the night. A large man with a head of thick black hair slicked back, he wore a cook’s apron as he emptied smaller garbage containers into one large one. He stilled when he spotted me. Reached for a weapon. Raised a spatula.
I raised my hands. The blue ones that shook uncontrollably.
Another voice came from behind me. A female one. She must have come out of the office. “What’s going on?” she asked, her tone sharp.
I turned to her. In her early forties, she was large, but she had bright red hair straight out of a box and a pretty round face that had probably seen a tad too much partying in its day. Her heavily lined brows slid together.
“I just need help,” I said, showing my palms to her as well.
The dog whimpered, but they didn’t seem to give a lick about her.
“You can’t be back here.”
“I know. I’m sorry, I was just— I mean, I was wondering—”
“Spit it out, girl, before you turn into a chunk of ice. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that shade of blue on anyone before.”
“Why?” she asked, jamming her hands on her hips. “You somebody special?”
“No. I mean, I was wondering if you know my name.”
The man chuckled. “Don’t you?”
I turned to him, hugging myself. “No,” I said, my whole body quaking. “I— I don’t have a clue.”
Excerpt: Reye’s POV
“I found her.”
I turned to the kid, Angel, and tried to keep control of my emotions. I knew it wouldn’t take him long to find her if she was still on earth. My fear was that she’d ascended. That she was no longer on earth and had taken her rightful place as grim reaper. Or even god of her realm. She’d come into her powers. There wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it if that was her choice.
“Where is she?” the Daeva asked.
Cookie, her eyes red and swollen, stood and glanced from the Daeva to me, then back again. Dutch’s uncle Bob did the same while Amber and Quentin watched with wide eyes.
Gemma, who’d been sobbing almost uncontrollably, paced the kitchen floor, but she stopped and questioned me, her expression hopeful. “What? Did your guy come back?”
“Angel. Your sister’s investigator. He’s back and he says he’s found her.”
She covered her mouth with a hand, then rushed to Cookie and hugged her.
I turned to the kid. “And?”
“She’s so bright now, it’s hard to find her center. To find her in all that light. But she’s in some town in New York.”
“New York?” I asked.
“Like from the story. That town with the headless horseman. Sleepy Hollow.”