Eleventh Grave in Moonlight

“We have to go to hell in less than three hours,” Uncle Bob said to me, as though we were walking out of a meeting or had just come from dinner.

“What? Oh, right, the mall.” I suppressed a giggle. “You know, I’ve been. They really are very similar.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Uncle Bob, I still can’t believe what you were about to do for me. You could have died.”

“Charley, I know how special you are. Or, well, I thought I knew.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I guess I had no clue. Not really.”

I wrapped an arm in his. “That’s okay. I don’t always get it, either.”

“Was that… was that an angel?”

“Oh, him? Yeah, that was Michael the Churlish Cherub.” I bent at the waist, giggling.

Uncle Bob just stared all aghastlike. Not everyone got my humor.

“Does… how much does Cookie know?”

“Not as much as you. Not anymore.”

He nodded as Reyes stepped out.

“Feel better?” I asked him.

“You know, I think I do.”

I studied the run-down hotel. “I essentially killed those men. Am I slated for hell?”

He stepped to me. Put his fingers underneath my chin. Raised it until our gazes locked. “You’re a god, Dutch. And the reaper. You don’t get slated. You are the slate.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not sure Michael the Churlish Cherub would agree.” I snorted again at my own joke. “I’m so calling him that next time I see him.”

“I want to be there.”

“I’ll get you a ringside seat.”

“No, I want to be there the next time you try to start World War III.”

His statement wasn’t actually the light suggestion he’d made it out to be. It was a warning. He’d paired his warning with a gentle glare. It would have been even better had he paired it with a nice chianti and a cheese ball.

I stepped into his arms and offered my own warning glare. “Push me off a building again, and you’ll see Michael sooner than you’d hoped.”

He pulled a lock of my hair, then tucked it behind my ear. “Unless he’s visiting Lucifer, I doubt that would happen.”

I eased back, surprised. “Do you really think you’d go to hell?”

“No. As a god, I’d go to a prison dimension, I suppose.”

“I think you’ve seen the inside of enough prisons to last you a few million years. And besides, why would you go there? You’ve done nothing wrong, Reyes.”

He offered me a sad smile and looked away.

17

My entire life can be summed up in one sentence: “Well, that didn’t go as planned.”

— T-SHIRT

The next morning, I waited on the sidelines in Amber’s room while Uncle Bob and a tech guy named Jimmy equipped Amber with a wire. We’d be able to hear everything. Reyes stood in the doorway with a cup of coffee. Sadly, it was not mine.

“Thanks for being here, Swopes,” I said to Garrett Swopes, one of my best friends on planet earth. Or he could have been if he’d drop the macho guy routine and offer to make me tacos. He’d been explaining to Amber how the wire would work when he stood and walked over.

“Not at all.” He gestured toward Amber. “How’s the smidgen holding up?”

“She’s nervous. I want her to be able to see either you, me, or Reyes at all times.”

Garrett was the only person in our circle who I could be fairly confident Joe Stalker didn’t know about. He could be there without worry that Joe would have seen them together. And while Amber and I hadn’t been seen together in public for months, I had a workaround, just in case. A reason for my being at the mall. It was ingenious. I’d pretend to be a shopper. Gawd, my plans rocked.

I walked over to Amber just as the tech guy was finishing up. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

She nodded, but I could feel the elevated pulse. The tightening of her throat. The nausea churning in her stomach. Poor kid. Stress did so much more damage than people realized.

I sat beside her and took her hand.

We’d sent texts throughout the day before, so if Joe Stalker did clone her phone, he would know exactly where she’d be. I had a hard time believing he just followed her around. The texts were the only thing that made sense. Either that or he was following her on GPS. Both acts relied on her phone.

“Brandy will be there, too, right?” Amber had texted her friend Brandy as well after Uncle Bob discussed the whole thing with Brandy’s parents. They’d agreed, albeit very reluctantly, to let their daughter go. I could hardly blame their hesitation. Who would purposely set up their daughter in a sting trying to catch a stalker? Yeah, I bet that wasn’t an easy sell for Ubie. But he got the job done.

“According to her parents, yes. She’ll show.”

She nodded, relieved.

“I heard he didn’t text you yesterday.”

Ubie said everything went well with Osh being there, but I was worried it may have scared Joe off. Now was not the time to go into hiding, but if it happened, it happened. We would simply try again until we caught him.

She shook her head. “He’ll do that, though. Go for a few days without texting me, then I get like ten in one day from a totally new number.”

“Okay.” I could only hope he wasn’t someone who traveled for work and was out of town. This whole thing could be for naught.

Cookie’s hands shook as she handed Amber a hairband. “I don’t see why I can’t go in. I’m her mom. I would be at the mall with her, anyway.”