Eleventh Grave in Moonlight (Charley Davidson #11)(27)

I felt the warmth of Reyes’s gaze on my back before he returned his focus to the angel leaning against the wall in the front of the classroom. This one was probably the most surprising I’d seen yet. He was a ginger, and while he wore the requisite long black coat, he wore something I could only describe as a kilt underneath. It wasn’t a true Scottish kilt, but it resembled one in that it was a man-skirt. A black leather man-skirt that came to his knees. The belt at his waist was wide and held a variety of weapons, and his sword was strapped to his back.

He was a scrapper, through and through. And Reyes kept a close eye on him. Close enough to be mistaken for aggression. I swore if those two threw down in the middle of my business class, someone was getting an ass kicking. Most likely me if I tried to step in, but I needed to pay attention. We had our first test next week. I didn’t have time for rumbles.

“Miss Davidson,” Mr. Hipple said, drawing me out of my musings. “May I speak to you?”

I glanced around as students rose and filed out of the classroom. He’d called break, and I missed it. I had no idea how long we had.

I nodded and wound my way to the front of the room, coming way too close for comfort to William Wallace, the highland angel. But he was too busy staring down my main squeeze, who’d followed me, putting them within fist-throwing distance. Damn it.

“Miss … Charley,” he corrected. “Can you tell me what you hope to get out of this class?”

“I put that on the questionnaire you sent around the first night.”

“Yes, you did.” He pulled out my answer sheet. “You are taking this class to learn more about business administration and management should you succeed in taking over the world.”

“Was that redundant? Putting down both administration and management?”

“Not at all. My point is, I assumed you meant that metaphorically.”

“Which part?”

“The part about you taking over the world.”

“Oh, right.” I was leaning against the desk, and Reyes leaned against me. Leaned into me. His warmth soaking through to the marrow of my bones. “No, I meant it quite literally, though I probably should have phrased it differently.”

He braced an arm against the desk, putting a barrier between the angel and me. It was protective and kind. Despite his anger at my taking the Foster case, he still protected me. It would’ve even been romantic had the kid not come in again and screamed in my face.

My shoulders wilted. I had to help her.

“I did mean it metaphorically, Mr. Hipple. I’m sorry. I’ll stop asking questions.”

“I hope not,” he said, surprising me. “I’d just like them to be something I can answer. If you really are taking over the world, I think you need to take a class that’s more advanced than Intro to Business 101.”

I laughed softly. “Thanks. I’ll look into it.”

Just as I was headed out the door, he called out to me. “I think they cover world domination in Business 350.”

I laughed again and left, knowing I wouldn’t be back. I couldn’t learn how to run the world, possibly the entire universe, from a classroom. I needed real-world experience.

Issues girl got all up in my face. She did it to everyone. What she didn’t expect was for me to see her.

“I need a pencil!” When she screamed, her mouth opened really wide, and her tongue was a little blue. Of course, that could have been a side effect of her being dead.

I did a mom thing and grabbed her ear.

“Ouch,” she said as I dragged her into the restroom. “What the hell?” She rubbed her ear when I let go. “How did you do that?”

“Haven’t you noticed that I’m a little brighter than the other kids on the playground?”

“So, I still need a pencil.”

“You don’t need a pencil. And your screaming is the most grating thing that’s happened to me all day. That’s saying a lot. Trust me.”

“Wait. You can hear me?”

I finished checking the stalls and then went to a sink for a hair check. Still longish and brown. Okeydokey, then.

“Yes, I can hear you. What the hell is up with the pencil?”

Now that I had her attention, she seemed perfectly sane. “I just … I needed a pencil for a test.” She turned around in circles like a dog chasing its tail. Maybe not that sane. “Is this a hospital gown? Does it open in the back? Can you see my butt?”

“Do you remember what happened to you?”

She stopped twirling. Thank goodness, because I could indeed see her butt.

“I was … I fell. I remember I leaned over to ask another student for a pencil and the room started spinning. I…” She looked at her hands. Then the gown. Then her bare feet. “Am I … am I dead?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I was two semesters away from graduating.”

I hitched a hip onto the sink and waited for her to absorb it all. She walked into a stall and sat on a toilet.

She buried her face in her hands. “How is this even possible?”

“I don’t know, hon, but since you didn’t cross when you died, you can cross through me. I’m sure you have family waiting.”

“Cross?”

I nodded.