Eleventh Grave in Moonlight Page 89


 

Astonished, he laid his head back against the wall. “I don’t remember.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Well, it couldn’t have been that bad, right? If I’ve already been there and came back normal.”

 

Someone snorted. I was pretty sure it was Jose. “Normal? Got a pretty high opinion of yourself, eh, Mr. Farrow?”

 

His grin, that wicked, sensual thing he wielded like a weapon, touched me in all the right places. “I guess you’re right.”

 

I climbed onto my knees, then climbed him. Or, well, straddled him. “I have a better idea, anyway. You send me.”

 

All traces of humor vanished in an instant. “No.”

 

I started to climb off him. He clasped my hips and held me to him.

 

“Why not send me?” I asked, sounding a bit like a petulant child. But it was my glass now. If anyone had a right to go in…

 

“It’s not safe.”

 

“Oh, but it’s safe enough to send you? That’s logic for you. Of the penis-wielding variety.”

 

“We’ll flip for it.”

 

“If I had a penis…” I thought for a moment. “I’ve got it! We’ll send Cookie, but only for a few seconds. Wait. What did you say?”

 

One corner of his mouth battled for control. Grin versus scowl. Which would come out on top?

 

I raised my arms in victory. “And the grin takes the gold.”

 

He gave me a moment, the grin taking on a personality of its own.

 

“Okay. Sorry. Yeah, let’s flip.”

 

I shifted to the side so he could reach into his pocket. He took his time, his fingers brushing against Virginia, stirring her.

 

“Wait a minute.” I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “This is a trick.”

 

“It’s a coin.” He held it up and showed me both sides of the quarter. “How is this a trick?”

 

I settled back on his lap, his crotch wedged against Virginia, my unruly vajayjay. “I don’t know, but it is. I can feel it.”

 

He tossed the coin. It flipped over and over in the air, then he slowed time, reached up and wrapped it in his hand.

 

“I knew you’d cheat,” I said.

 

“I’m going. I can’t risk losing you.”

 

“But I can risk losing you?”

 

“You can. And so can Elwyn. She needs you.”

 

“You’re the stronger of us, Reyes. You can protect her.”

 

“First, that’s not true. Second, all the prophecies are about you. Not me. I’m going.”

 

When I started to argue again, he lifted me off his lap and went to the kitchen for a knife. I’d expected him to come back with a paring knife. Instead, he brought a chef’s. Twelve inches of glistening metal.

 

“We don’t need that much blood,” I said to him, worried.

 

He shrugged. “Just in case.”

 

He ran the tip of one finger along the razor-sharp edge. Then he smeared the dark red blood on my finger.

 

I curled my hand into a fist to keep it safe. To keep that miniscule part of him safe. Then I lifted my chin and pretended to be brave.

 

“Okay, this is your basic reconnaissance mission. Go in, scope out the lay of the land, then come back no worse for the wear. It’s just a trial run. A test to see if it can even be accomplished. I mean, I’ve seen entities go in. I’ve never actually seen one come back out.”

 

“You’re stalling.”

 

“I’m —” I started to argue, but it was hard to argue with someone who was right. I soaked him in. His image. His scent. His feel.

 

He pulled me to him. Dipped his head. Pressed his mouth to mine in a kiss I could only hope would not be our last.

 

Then he stepped back, and I unfastened the catch on the glass-covered pendant. The six-hundred-year-old, glass-covered pendant. The second it sprang open, thunderstorms and lightning bolts shot out around us. Winds whipped and howled as though in mourning.

 

Reyes still seemed barely interested. But I stood in awe. Not of the glass. I’d seen it opened before. Of him.

 

The glass had devoured two preternatural beings in my presence – a demon assassin and a god – but I had yet to see the reaction Reyes was getting from the glass. Lightning crackled around us, but it did more than that to Reyes. It… caressed him. It explored him. Tiny spider-webbed currents of electricity pulsed over his skin, traveling over every curve, every line of his body. As though seducing him. As though luring him inside.

 

He sucked in a sharp breath. Threw back his head. Let the sting wash over him.

 

Then he leveled a hard gaze on me. “Say my name.”

 

I wiped his blood on the surface of the glass, drew in a lungful of air, and sent my husband to hell.

 

Scared beyond measure, I kept my gaze riveted to the clock on the wall. The one with a second hand.

 

I’d said his celestial name. His godly name. His true name and the only one that would work to send him through the portal.

 

“Rey’azikeen.”

 

The bolts of electricity had danced around him, had jumped as though in joy at the prospect of pulling Reyes into their domain. They’d curled and arced all the way to the metal rafters overhead in a joyous symphony. He’d offered me one last glance and winked a microsecond before he was gone.

 

I’d closed the pendant and my eyes, wondering what I’d just done.

 

I looked at the clock again. Fifteen seconds. It’d seemed like hours. I couldn’t wait any longer. I opened the pendant, held the raging storm in my palms, and offered up a little prayer to the God I may or may not meet on the battlefield one day before saying his name.

 

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