Eleventh Grave in Moonlight (Charley Davidson #11)(25)

“I would never do that to you.” When he cast me a dubious stare, I added, “Not a second time.”

“Then you’ll lose.” He said it so matter-of-factly that I glanced up at him in question. “If you aren’t willing to do anything, to sacrifice anyone, then you will lose and your daughter will be dead before she’s old enough to know what a wuss her mother was. Which is probably for the best.”

“Because I’m not willing to sacrifice you—”

“Anyone.”

“—we will automatically lose?”

He stood and raked a hand through his hair. “This god, this Eidolon, doesn’t play by the same rules you do. The odds of you trapping another god in that glass … let’s just say they aren’t in your favor.” When I didn’t respond, he changed the subject. “How’s your uncle?”

“Still slated for hell.”

“Why?” He sat down again and leveled a curious stare on me.

“What do you mean, why? Reyes saw it. He killed people. It doesn’t matter that they were horrible and were planning on abducting me so their boss could eat me. Uncle Bob made the decision to hunt these men down and take human life, so he’s automatically penciled in for an eternity of agony.”

None of it made sense. Nor was it fair. Why would a noble pursuit sentence Uncle Bob to hell? Reyes explained it once. Said that Ubie had taken lives on purpose when there were other options. It was not self-defense, but premeditated. Still …

When Jehovah and I finally meet face-to-face, we are going to have a serious discussion.

“No, I know all that,” he said. “I was just wondering why. Want a beer?” He stood and turned on several lights before heading to the kitchen. I followed him.

“What do you mean, why? I just said why.”

“Okay.” He took out a beer and popped the top off.

“No, not okay. What do you mean, why?”

He grinned at last, and I felt like the joke was definitely on me. I just still had no idea what the joke was.

“I just figured since you were the reaper, you’d do something about it.”

“About what?”

“About your uncle being slated for my birthplace.” He walked back into his living room and picked up the TV remote.

I took it from him. “Osh, what do you mean? Spill or I’ll … I’ll melt your remote with my … my fire.”

His brows inched higher, unimpressed. “You aren’t the quickest rabbit in the race, are you?”

“That’s it.” I focused all my energy on his remote and—

“Okay,” he said, jumping up and grabbing it from me. “Chill. All I’m saying is, you’re the freaking reaper. Just, you know, do what you do. Unmark him.”

He sat back down and turned on the TV while I stood there in a sea of confusion.

When I didn’t move out of his way, he leaned to the side, unfazed.

“I can do that?” I asked at last.

“Of course. Isn’t that your job, anyway? Part of it, at least.”

I sank back onto his sofa. “But I didn’t even know he was marked.”

“You just didn’t look. It’s there, plain as Dayton, Ohio. Want to watch Buffy?”

“Oh, hell, yes,” I said, snuggling into his cushions. Then I remembered I had places to be. “Crap. I can’t. I’m going to be late for class.”

“Class?”

“I’m taking a business class so I can run the world once I take it over. You know, from a fiscal standpoint.” I hadn’t really grasped the whole fiscal concept as it applied to world domination, but I loved saying it out loud. It made me sound smart.

“Ah. Well, get your ass out then. Maybe I can still salvage my evening. Snack on a couple of thieves.”

“Osh.” I took his hand in mine.

He eyed me warily.

“Are you mad at me for almost killing you?”

The once-over he gave me, the one filled with appreciation and interest and humor—mostly humor—warmed me to my toes. “No, sugar. I’m honored you think so highly of me to entrust me with your light.”

“Also, you were the only one who could have handled it.”

“There’s that,” he said with a grin.

I considered everything else I was willing to entrust him with—namely, my daughter, the future of the world, my daughter. Mostly my daughter.

“I thought about selling it on eBay,” he added, “but I had no idea how to ship a box full of all-powerful, omnipotent light.”

I laughed, leaned in, and kissed his cheek before heading for the door. Just as I was about to go through it, he said, “Oh, I meant to ask you, what’s with all the angels?”





7

I just ordered a Life Alert bracelet, so if I get a life, I’ll be notified immediately.





—BUMPER STICKER


I called Uncle Bob on my way to class. I’d considered telling him about his impending doom, but I didn’t know how. Or what to say. Or where to start. He’d want to know exactly how we knew. Did I then tell him about his inevitable trip to Lucifer Land? How could I?

He picked up on the first ring. “Hey, pumpkin.”