The Trouble with Twelfth Grave (Charley Davidson #12)(29)

“That’s it, I’m legally changing my middle name.”

Before she could make it even longer, because that one was going to be hard to explain at the registrar’s office as it was, I hung up. No way was I risking my best friend’s life. I’d already put her through so much, and she stuck with me, no questions asked. There was some cussing and name-calling and a little bit of hair-pulling, but no questions. And Cookie’s hair grew back better than ever.

Rey’azikeen destroyed a precious memorial. The mere thought left me livid. It was time to hunt him down. To be done with this. To find out if Reyes was in there somewhere despite what Rocket said or not. Either way, I had to know.

I pulled into an empty parking lot on the outskirts of town. The land was part of the Sandia reservation, and the building used to be a casino, but the Sandia Pueblo built another one, bigger and brighter, a couple of years prior. So, lucky for us, this one lay abandoned.

Garrett was already there. I stepped out of Misery and started toward him just as Osh drove into the parking lot in a flat black Hellcat. My knees weakened at the sight of it.

Just as we did, Osh left his car lights on to illuminate the playing field. He grinned and stepped out wearing his usual attire minus the top hat.

“Do you think he’ll come?” Garrett asked. He took the rifle off his open tailgate and loaded it.

I shrugged, my nerves making me seasick. “What do you think?” I asked Osh as he walked up.

He’d been busy checking out the horizon as the sun dipped past it. “I have a feeling he’s already here. I think he follows you pretty much everywhere.”

“I haven’t felt him.”

“I could be wrong. I just have a hunch, and if that hunch proves correct, he may know about our plans to trap him.”

Garrett finished loading the rifle. He nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

After swallowing hard, I nodded back, and we took our positions.

We walked to the middle of the massive lot and stood in a triangle about twenty feet apart from each other.

Osh seemed to sense my distress. If he’d seen what had come out of that glass, he would’ve been more distressed himself. Then again, we were talking about Osh. Osh’ekiel the Daeva. The slave demon from hell, and apparently slaves weren’t treated any better in hell than they had been on Earth.

“I can take him,” he promised. “At least long enough for Swopes to get a shot.” He looked at Garrett. “Just don’t hit me.”

“Hold him as still as you can.”

When we’d settled into silence, I bowed my head and whispered my husband’s name. Normally, I could summon a departed or Reyes or even an angel just by thinking a name, but Rey’azikeen was proving a little trickier in every sense of the word. I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know who to expect.

“Reyes,” I said softly, reaching out with my mind.

Nothing. Naturally. Because it couldn’t be that easy.

Then I remembered going through this exact same scenario three days ago when I attempted to pull Reyes out of the god glass. It didn’t work then. No idea why I thought it would work now. Wishful thinking, I supposed.

I tried again. “Rey’azikeen.” Nothing. Flashbacks of that night started playing in my head. “Rey’aziel,” I said, the name he used in hell.

But still nothing.

“What can we do?” Garrett asked.

“I don’t know. I’m trying my best.”

“It’s okay, love,” Osh said. “If he doesn’t want to be summoned, he won’t be.”

“I’ll try again. I’ll … I don’t know … I’ll force him.”

With teeth locked, I concentrated on the beautiful man I’d married, the father of my child, the keeper of my heart, and said his name again. The name he was most likely going by now. “Rey’azikeen.”

I felt a pulse in the core of my abdomen. My lids flew open. The wind had picked up and whipped my hair around my head.

Osh offered me an encouraging smile.

“Rey’azikeen,” I said again, only louder this time, and I was rewarded with a warmth, a heat that washed in me and over me and through me as though I were nothing but air. He was close. We all knew it. But getting him to appear, to materialize, could be difficult.

And then I realized something. I looked at my two companions. “He’s teasing us.”

Osh agreed. “He’s fucking with us.”

Frustration cut into me. I looked toward the heavens and shouted, “This is the worst day ever!” Not that it would do any good, but for some reason I felt better.

“I was afraid this would happen,” Osh said. Then he grinned, his white teeth flashing across his handsome face. He gestured at Garrett with a nod. “You’re up.”

Garrett slung the rifle over his shoulder and started toward me.

I took a step back in suspicion. “What? What did you two come up with?”

Garrett’s gait was confident, purposeful. He didn’t stop until we were barely inches apart, then he wrapped his arms around me, and said, “This,” a microsecond before he planted his mouth on mine.

Shock immobilized me for what seemed like an hour. Garrett’s mouth was hot against mine. Smooth. Tantalizing.

Understanding the point, I softened against him. Tilted my head for better access. Opened my mouth.