Seventh Grave and No Body Page 70

He raised a knee and draped an arm over it. “Are you?”

“Yes. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you’ve been spying on me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Who is she?” I asked as I crawled onto the bed, kneeling at the foot of it, well out of his reach.

“What makes you think I have only one?”

I raised my brow, impressed. “The one I saw was beautiful.”

“I think she drowned at a dinner party.”

“That explains the evening gown.”

“Her makeup is smeared.”

“Yeah, but you like that kind of thing.”

“Only on you.” He grinned and reached for me anyway.

I slid off the bed and sidestepped past him to gather my dirty clothes and toss them in the laundry basket. “How many do you have?”

“What would you like me to tell you?”

I wondered why that was a difficult question to answer. “The truth would be nice.”

“I have an army, then. Is that what you want to hear?”

I walked to my dresser and scooted onto it. “If that’s the truth, then yeah. How many is in an army, exactly.”

“I have several,” he said, acquiescing. “Seven or so. You’re getting stronger. She knew you’d detected her today at the coffee shop.”

“I smelled her perfume. I’ve never done that with a departed.”

“Your senses are heightening. Good.”

“What exactly does your army of spies do? I don’t like being watched.”

“Then perhaps I shouldn’t tell you.”

I didn’t know how to take that.

“I’m not risking you just because you don’t want to be guarded, Dutch. It’s like you said earlier. It’s not just about you anymore.”

He had a point.

“Let me see what you’re capable of,” he said.

“You know what I’m capable of. I seem to be the only one who doesn’t. And from what I understand, if you tell me my real name, my celestial name, I will just know what to do.”

“Yes, but it will also change everything. We can’t use that card unless we absolutely have to.”

“I don’t understand. What’s really going on?”

He glanced down. “I’m not sure that if you learn your celestial name, you won’t become the grim reaper completely.”

“Do you mean, you’re afraid my physical body will pass? That I’ll become the reaper and —”

“You’ll forget about me. You’ll have a job to do. Reapers aren’t known for their social skills. They do their duty. Period. They become, how do I say it? Void of emotion.”

I could tell it actually worried him, though I knew in my heart I would never, no matter what happened, no matter what I knew, forget him. It was as improbable a scenario as the world turning to dust. But I let it drop for now. “Fine. That can be our ace in the hole should we ever need it.”

“Now, let’s see what you’re capable of.” He crossed his arms over his wide chest. His hair curled around his ears, the thick dark mass shimmering in the low light. “Just play along for a minute.”

“Okay, what do I do?”

He lowered his head and gazed at me from underneath his lashes. “Imagine I’m one of the Twelve,” he said, his voice soft, smooth.

“One of the Twelve. Got it.”

“Now drop me.”

“Drop you.”

“Like you did today.”

“No,” I said. “What I did this morning was not okay. You couldn’t breathe.”

“It was brilliant.”

“It was reckless,” I argued.

“Dutch,” he said in warning.

“Fine.” I lowered my lids and morphed into a lean mean fighting machine. I’d imagined myself as a coffee machine for so long, it was difficult, but I managed it. I opened my eyes and bore my gaze into his. “You are the disease and I’m the viral inhibitor that blocks attachment to the host cell and prevents the release of cloned viral particles, attacking from both ends.”

He fought a smile, then asked, “Where’d you get that?”

“Theraflu commercial, mostly.”

“Dutch,” he said in warning again, “drop me or you’ll wish you had.”

I didn’t doubt his words, though I had no idea what he would do to make me wish I had. After drawing in a lungful of air, I concentrated, ordered myself to drop him.

He kept his gaze locked on mine. “Dutch,” he growled, giving me one more warning.

But I couldn’t figure out what to do to drop him. I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t want to put him through what I’d put him through that morning.

I blinked, and in that instant, he was on me. He grabbed me by the throat and lifted me as though to body-slam me on the bed. Without thought, I slowed time to his speed, then slowed it more, until I had the advantage. Until I had the strength to break free from his hold, to twist my legs around, to grab him by the throat, and to use time itself to help me force him over my shoulder, to flip him and slam his body onto the ground.

As I allowed time to grab its footing again, the sound deafening as it ricocheted into place, I said one simple word to make sure I kept the advantage for a few seconds more.

“Excruci.”

Reyes’s back arched as the pain hit him. He threw his head back in agony and growled between clenched teeth, his muscles tense as though seizing. I watched for a split second and wondered, as time settled around us, if I could cause pain, could I do the reverse? Could I cause pleasure?