The Trouble with Twelfth Grave (Charley Davidson #12)(67)

The trip back to Albuquerque was a quiet one, save the ninety-pound Rottweiler panting in my ear. She pawed at something crawling in my hair. It took every ounce of strength I had not to freak.

“It’s a ladybug,” Reyes said from the backseat, his eyes boring into mine via the rearview.

“Is that your new game? Show up uninvited just to fuck with me?”

“I’m trying to determine what Rey’aziel found so fascinating.”

“Ah. Well, good luck with that. I’ve often wondered the same thing.”

“There,” he said, his brows furrowing. “That.”

“That?”

“You’re … humble.”

I scoffed. “Hardly. Have you seen my ass?” I did have a nice ass, so the question bore repeating.

“Then, what is it?”

“Uh, reality? So, that’s what’s fascinating about me? My attitude? My humility? I knew the shock therapy I underwent in college would pay off.”

“Pull over.”

“Nope. Got a psychotic priest to find since you spent time with him in the god glass but never bothered to learn his name, so I can’t summon him.” I hadn’t taken the time to change out of the dress yet. I tugged at the straps, vowing to pay Cookie back.

“Would you like me to rid you of it?”

“The priest?”

“The dress.”

Damn him. “Damn you.”

He laughed softly, his dark eyes glistening, his sensual mouth tilting slightly. It was Reyes. He was Reyes. If he were an angry god, why would he be there, dare I say flirting with me?

“Let me know when we get there.”

“What?” I looked in the rearview, and he’d eased down in the seat, laid his head back, and closed his eyes.

He was snoozing?

I shook my head, unable to figure out what he was doing there. What his end game was.

“To find it,” he said, his voice silky smooth and oceans deep. “Will you trust me when I do?”

I stared out the windshield at the long highway ahead of me. “As much as you trust me, I guess.”

Rey’azikeen slept. He actually slept. I hadn’t slept in four days, but he sat in my backseat and slept the entire way home. So beautiful it hurt to look at him.

But he was a god. Why was he sleepy?

As bad as I hated to do it, I stopped by the apartment for a shower and a change of clothes. I left Reyes in the backseat, hurried up to my apartment, tore through my closet, and hopped in a still-cold shower.

I needed to get to Rocket before any more time passed. I needed that name so I could summon the priest before he attacked anyone else.

Ignoring the dark whooshes I saw once again in my apartment—I could deal with them later—I threw on a clean a pair of jeans, sweatshirt, and boots. It had been dark for about an hour, but it was still early enough to head to Chuck E. Cheese.

I was just about to check in with Cookie across the hall when I heard her voice. Her loud voice. And she wasn’t normally that loud. When I stepped into our living room, I realized she was in my apartment.

“Why, no, Agent Carson, Charley isn’t here right now.” She stood at my door and waved a hand at her back, signaling for me to get back.

“Her Jeep is outside.”

“Right, it’s not running right now.”

“It’s hot.”

“It gets that way. Something about a thermometer malfunction?”

Kit sighed. “Fine. I’ll go away, but if you would tell her I need to see her sooner rather than later, I’d appreciate it.”

“Will do. Good to see you again. Hope the recording was all you hoped it would be.”

“Oh, it was. And then some.”

“Wonderful. Bye now.” Cookie closed the door and sank against it.

I hurried to the door for a look through the peephole. They’d gone. I sank against the door with her. “Thanks for that, hon. I can’t be arrested right now. I found Rocket. I think.”

She straightened. “Where is he? Is he okay? What about that sweet baby girl?”

“From what Strawberry said, they’re all having a ball at Chuck E. Cheese.”

“You’re kidding, right? Which one?”

I blinked at her. “What do you mean, which one? There’s more than one?”

“There are two on either side of the city.”

“Damn it. She didn’t say. Which one should I try?”

Cookie thought a moment. “Okay, the one on Wyoming is a lot closer. Try that one first.”

“Gotcha. Do you think they’re gone yet?”

“I have a feeling someone is going to be sticking around to see if you go back to Misery.”

I deflated.

“You could stay here for a while. Get some rest. You were shot at today. I think you deserve a good night’s sleep.”

The word sleep gave me a deep longing in the pit of my stomach. And Rey’azikeen had been playing a bit nicer, just showing up and not digging into my brain. I wondered …

“No. No, I have to do this before anyone else gets hurt, Cook. There’ll be plenty of time for sleep after.”

“Well, I tried.”

“Yes, you did.”

“They may be watching Misery. Take mine.” She ran across the hall and got her keys.