The Trouble with Twelfth Grave (Charley Davidson #12)(30)

It surprised Garrett if the gentle intake of breath between our mouths was any indication, but he got over it quickly. He slid his tongue past my lips and explored to his heart’s content, the kiss leisurely. Languid. Sensual.

Then again, for his plan to work, he had to make it good.

The wind whipped around us, pushing and straining to tear us apart. I wrapped one arm around his neck and kept one planted on his rib cage. Mostly in case this did actually work and he needed to get to his gun quickly.

“There!” Osh shouted above the roar of the now hurricane-strength wind.

What happened next seemed to play out in slow motion. Osh sprang forward, scrambling to attack Reyes, but his movements were slow as though swimming in molasses. The same with Garrett. He pushed me back before grabbing the gun and pulling the stock to his shoulder, but what would normally have been lightning-quick moves had decelerated to a dreamlike sequence of events.

I turned just in time to see Reyes, or Rey’azikeen as was most likely the case, appear in the distance. He walked toward me. The winds didn’t affect the billowing darkness that surrounded him. Smoke cascaded off his shoulders and down his body to pool at his feet. It stirred with every step, thin bolts of electricity crackling and curling over him. And underneath it all, his fire. Always that fire. That reminder of his upbringing in hell.

I realized Reyes had slowed time. Osh could correct for that in a few moments, but Garrett, being human, could not.

Still, Reyes didn’t stop it altogether. He could have, but he didn’t.

I watched as he strode closer and closer. Osh dove toward him, and Garrett aimed the rifle at his midsection. He pulled the trigger, and Reyes easily sidestepped both Osh and the dart that was meant to tranquilize him.

He stopped short in front of me as the other two recovered and prepared for the next attack. Unconcerned, Reyes reached over, grabbed a handful of my hair, and pulled me roughly against him.

“You dare summon me?” he asked, anger sparking in his dark irises.

I lifted my chin, just as angry. “You destroyed Rocket’s building.”

I had to take advantage of his nearness, so I prepared for step two. Reyes hadn’t been tranquilized, but that would have been a precautionary measure only. I’d needed him close. Physically close. This close.

I raised a hand to his chest and started to say the words that would bind him to this world, but before I got out a single consonant, he dematerialized.

I stumbled forward and then whirled around, searching for him. I could still feel his blistering heat on my skin, as though, like Icarus, I’d traveled too close to the sun. But I couldn’t see him.

“Reyes!” I yelled as time bounced back, the wind even stronger.

Osh and Garrett regained their bearings and joined forces in front of me, expecting Reyes to come at us head-on again. But this being was not Reyes. This being was Rey’azikeen.

I felt the nuclear-like heat at my back a split second before an arm slid around my throat from behind. Another snaked across my midsection, and then his mouth was at my ear. His voice, smooth like butterscotch, caressed every part of me when he said, “Hold your breath.”

I drew air into my lungs just as the world fell away.





10

God is love,

but Satan does that thing you like with his tongue.





—BUMPER STICKER


Reyes shifted onto the celestial plane and took me with him. The wind, like acid in this realm, stung my skin, but his arms wrapped around me were far more unsettling. Which version of the man I loved held me?

He tightened his hold, and even though I didn’t think I needed air on this plane, needed to breathe in this realm, I squirmed against him as panic took root. “Let me go, Reyes.”

His mouth at my ear again, he said, “This is what happens when you summon a god.”

Despite the anger in his voice, despite the brutality I knew him capable of, part of me relished the embrace. I couldn’t help it. I had loved this man for so very long, centuries if not eons. I leaned into him.

He pushed me off him but kept a firm grip on my left arm, presumably so I wouldn’t dematerialize and escape. But I had no intention of leaving.

I did, however, try to jerk my arm free. His grip tightened in response. I refused to react. To give him the satisfaction.

Instead, I lifted my chin and dared him to do his worst.

The grin that slid across his painfully handsome face caused a pang of both sympathy and longing in my chest.

He practically scowled in response, clearly disgusted with me. “You’re still in love with him,” he said, his gaze boring into mine. “You believe that somewhere inside me is your Reyes. Your Rey’aziel.” He pulled me closer. “But what you don’t understand is that I was always lurking.” He clamped his free hand around my other arm. “I am not Reyes.” He pulled me close enough to see the sparkling flecks of green and gold in his coffee-colored eyes. “I am not Rey’aziel.” He walked forward, pushing me until he’d backed me into a wall of some kind. A rock, its sharp edges cutting into my skin. “I am Rey’azikeen.” He tightened the viselike grip he had on my arms. “A god, even stronger now, thanks to you.”

His dark gaze shimmered from underneath his lashes, cold and unforgiving. At least that’s what he’d have me believe. But I felt a turbulence beneath his cool exterior.