The Dirt on Ninth Grave Page 16

“I thought about calling in with an anonymous tip, but —”

“— but the first thing they’ll do is send in a uniform,” he finished for me.

I was beyond thrilled that he understood. Heck, I was thrilled he was even listening to me.

“Let me see what I can find out,” he said. “I have a few contacts in the area, just not this town in particular.”

I nodded and stood. “Thanks so much. I really appreciate it.”

But he stopped me with a hard glare. Or, hard-ish. “Just don’t do anything stupid before I check around.”

“Like what?” I asked, my expression completely innocent.

“Like what you’re thinking right now.”

That was totally eerie. It was like he knew me or something. “I would never.”

I grabbed the carafe and started for the drinks station. Cookie gave Bobert a quick kiss and followed me.

“I think the customer at thirteen needs a refill,” she said, adding a wink.

I turned. Took in the alarmingly alluring form of Reyes Farrow. Tried to pretend I wouldn’t be willing to trade nonessential organs for a night with him.

“Go talk to him,” she said, urging me that way.

I gathered a plate and bowl off a table as we strode past. She took it from me and cleared the rest of it, erasing my excuse to go to the back instead of toward a certain brooding ball of fire.

“I can’t talk to him,” I whispered.

“Sure you can.”

How could I tell Cookie what I saw? The darkness that enshrouded him. The eternal fire that bathed him.

“Just ask him how he’s doing.”

“I better not,” I said, shaking out of it. “Besides, I’m going to marry Denzel Washington. I watched one of his movies last night. There are no words.”

“That’s kind of sudden. Have you told Denzel?”

“No.”

She straightened with her load. “Have you told Denzel’s wife?”

“No. But I did name my mattress after him.”

“Well, there you go. You’re practically engaged.”

“You cuttin’ us off, sweetheart?” Mark grabbed my elbow from his seat behind me, his fingers biting into the tendons much harder than necessary to get my attention.

I tried to jerk out of his grasp. Instead of freeing myself, though, I sloshed coffee over the rim of the carafe. It splashed to the ground and onto my boots. My new suede boots with a topside zipper.

A wall of heat hit me from behind, but I simply stood in shock at first. That anyone would just grab me. That anyone would feel he had a right to. Ignoring the heat that swirled around me in an angry mass, I raised my lashes and focused first on the large hand that still had a vise grip on my arm, then on the asshole it was attached to. The diesel mechanic was laughing at me for spilling coffee. They both were. And a spark of anger flared to life inside me.

Oddly enough, nature chose that exact moment to grace us with an earthquake. I’d never been in an earthquake, not that I knew of, so the novelty should have shaken me out of my stupor.

It didn’t.

Anger arced around me like electricity even as the earthquake grew stronger. A couple of the patrons screamed. In my peripheral vision I saw some grab for the edges of their tables while others dived under them. Dishes rattled. A glass fell and shattered. A woman cried out for help. But still my ire rose.

Mark’s eyes were saucers. He let go of my arm and grabbed his table as well. Hershel did the same, but I suddenly and quite surprisingly wanted their necks to snap.

I heard a soft voice in the distance. Felt a light touch.

“Charley,” it said.

Six.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

I ignored her. Cookie. She’d placed a hand on my shoulder. It didn’t help. I could practically hear their necks snapping, I wanted it so bad. Could feel the sharp cracks as their vertebrae were wrenched apart.

Their heads twisted in unison on their shoulders just as a bolt of lightning flashed in front of me. Startled, I glanced out the window, unable to tell if it had come from this world or the other. But the fluttering of wings was most definitely from the other.

They were huge, the wings. Massive, spanning at least six feet on either side. Startlingly white on the edges and soft gray underneath. And they did not belong to a bird. They flared out, and a bright figure swirled around to face me, its image a blur in the winds of the otherworld. It darted forward as though to tackle me. I sucked in a sharp breath, and everything went black.

I heard Cookie again as I blinked, trying to focus.

“Janey,” she repeated, squeezing my shoulder softly. “Are you okay?”

I looked down. I’d dropped the carafe, but it hadn’t broken. Laughter and sighs of relief swirled around me.

“It’s over,” someone said. A woman. “Oh my God.”

A quick glance ensured me that, indeed, the earthquake was over. Another glance, a deeper glance, told me the winged being was gone.

“I’ve never been in a real earthquake.” I knew the voice. Lewis.

“Me neither.” Erin. “I have to call home.” While I felt relief from almost everyone else, I felt fear spike in her. Fear for her baby.

“Are you okay?” Lewis again.

“I’m – I’m fine. I think.” I turned just in time to see Francie check her hair.

That’s when I saw the darkness beside me. Reyes stood on my other side, and I realized he had Mark’s hand in a brutal hold. The man cried out, his face plastered against the table, a picture of pain.

Hershel bolted upright as though to challenge Reyes, but one look from the supernatural being, a look fairly glittering with rage, convinced him to leave instead. He tucked his chin and left without looking back.

Reyes dragged Mark out of the booth, then let go. The man didn’t need any more encouragement. He rushed out the front door, his tail tucked between his legs, and the only thing I could think to say was “He didn’t pay yet.”

“Is everyone okay?” Dixie asked, winded and worried.

The workers and patrons alike nodded, their shock still evident. We clearly didn’t have any customers from California in the bunch.

“She’s okay,” Erin said, relief flooding her cells at last. She had a phone pressed to one ear and a hand pressed to her chest, her smile a radiant beam. “Hannah’s fine. They didn’t even feel it at the house.”

I realized then that Cookie had dropped the plates she’d picked up, but she was more concerned with me. She still had a hand on my shoulder as though to keep me anchored.

Dixie gave Erin a hug, then said, “I guess we have a few messes to clean up.”

Sirens wailed in the distance, and people made their way out of stores across the street. They looked stunned as they surveyed the landscape. Questioned each other. Embraced.

Bobert rushed to Cookie and pulled her into a hug before turning to check on me, but my attention was still on the man standing so close. So startlingly and dangerously close.

Reyes had yet to move. Again, his emotions were so tightly packed, I had a tough time figuring out what he was thinking, but I did feel concern behind the hard expression he’d leveled on me. Then his gaze slid to where the otherworldly being had been, and I stilled.