Eleventh Grave in Moonlight (Charley Davidson #11)(94)

“That’s all I need. Thirty seconds.”

“Reyes, no.” I turned to face him. “I’m not risking your life on a fool’s errand.”

“Fool’s? You said there were innocent people in there. That the priest would send people of his village there whom he couldn’t control or whom he got angry with.”

“Or obsessed with. Remember, he sent Joan of Arc. She was never the same coming out as going in.”

“But she was in there for how long?”

“I don’t know. Kuur made it sound like weeks. Possibly months. And she was only twelve.”

He took the god glass out of my hand. Unlike every other celestial being that gazed upon the pendant, Reyes seemed only mildly interested. Most, including yours truly, became instantly mesmerized. I’d always assumed Jehovah had done that on purpose in order to lure Reyes closer so he could be trapped. Perhaps I was wrong. Reyes seemed the opposite of mesmerized. Though he was curious. Who wouldn’t be?

“I want to see it. The dimension.”

“According to Kuur, you already have.”

He straightened.

“He said they trapped you, Mae’eldeesahn and Eidolon, to transport you to Lucifer. When you came out, you were disoriented.”

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.