Oh, yeah. He was pissed.
I pushed Rocket’s hand off me and stepped toward him. “Reyes, wait—”
Before I could say anything, I heard the sing of metal being drawn. My breath caught when I realized he was going to use his blade on Rocket.
“No, Reyes,” I said, jumping in front of Rocket, but the blade was already in full swing. It whirred through the air and stopped a fingerbreadth inside my rib cage, on the left side. The sting was instantaneous, but I knew there would be no blood. Reyes killed with the skill of a surgeon, only from the inside out. No external trauma. No evidence of foul play. Just a pristine slice so clean, so sharp, it stumped even the best doctors — or coroners, depending on the outcome — in the country.
Time seemed to stand still as I looked down at the blade, at the sharp edges and menacing angles. It hovered parallel to the floor, an inch inside my body, and glistened with a blinding light.
Reyes jerked the blade back and sheathed it inside his robes as I tipped awkwardly toward the wall, my heart stumbling over its own beats. He pushed back the hood of his robe, concern drawing his brows together, and leaned toward me as if to catch me. I pushed at him and whirled around, but Rocket was gone. Then I turned on Reyes. My anger at his utter stupidity was reaching an all-time high.
“You seem to be very willing to hurt people these days.” The realization had me doubting everything I’d come to believe about him. I’d come to believe he was kind and noble and, okay, deadly, but in a good way.
“These days?” he asked, incredulous. “I’ve been hurting in your behalf for quite some time, Dutch.”
That was true. He’d saved my life more than once. He’d hurt people who were going to hurt me more than once. But each and every time, the person had been guilty of something very bad.
“You can’t just go around hurting people, killing people, because you want to. I realize your dad didn’t teach you—”
With a growl, his robe disappeared and he turned from me, the heat of his anger like the blast from an inferno. “And to which dad would you be referring?” he asked, his tone even, hurt that I would even mention them.
He had been a general in hell. He’d led his father’s armies into battle and suffered unimaginable consequences. Then he escaped and was born on Earth. For me. But the life he’d planned — the one where he and I grew up together, went to school and college together, had children together — became nothing more than remnants of a dream when he was kidnapped as a young child and traded to a monster named Earl Walker, the man he’d gone to prison for killing. The life he lived on Earth, the abuse he lived through, defined tragic.
I stepped closer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring either of them up.”
He glanced over a wide shoulder, his muscles rippling under the weight of his memories. “You have to stop looking for me.”
“No,” I said, my voice a mere whisper.
His mouth formed a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes a heartbeat before he turned away again. “My body will be gone soon enough. It can’t take much more.”
With a sharp pain, my heart contracted at the thought. “Are they torturing you?” I asked, my breath hitching in my chest.
He stood studying Rocket’s work, raised a hand, and ran his fingers along a name, the fluid lines of his tattoo undulating with the movement. “Mercilessly.”
I couldn’t stop the sting in my eyes, the wetness pooling along my lashes.
He was in front of me at once. “Don’t,” he said, his voice sharp, menacing. “Don’t ever feel sorry for me.”
I stumbled back against the wall again. He followed. I liked this better. It was easier to be angry with him when he was being an ass. What I hadn’t expected was his probing caress. While he was pretending to fondle, to seduce, he was actually checking the wound he’d just given me, his hand soothing, his caress healing.
“Why did you hurt Pari?” I asked, still amazed that he could be so gentle, and yet hurt so easily.
He pushed away from the wall. “I never hurt your friend. I don’t even know who she is.”
I blinked in surprise. “But, she summoned you.”
“Did she tell you that?”
“Yes. She said she summoned you, Rey’aziel, in a seance.”
He chuckled, the sound harsh. “So your friend thinks she summoned me like a dog?”
“No, that’s not it at all.”
“I can’t be summoned by a group of teen nitwits playing urban legend. Only one person alive can summon me,” he said, gazing at me pointedly.
Did he mean me? Could I summon him? “So, it wasn’t you?”
He only shook his head.
“Then, you didn’t hurt her?”
He paused and eyed me for a long moment. “You know what I find most interesting?”
This was a trick. I could feel it. “What?”
“That you honestly believe I am capable of hurting innocent people for no reason.”
“You’re not?” I asked, hope softening my voice.
“Oh, no, I’m more than capable. I just didn’t realize you knew that.”
Fine, he was bitter. I got that. “Were you going to kill Rocket? Is that even possible?”
“He’s already dead, Dutch.”
“Then—”
“I was just going to send him away for a while to cower in fear. He’s good at that.”
“So, you’re cruel, too,” I stated, matter-of-fact.
He slid his long fingers around my neck, the heat blistering, and raised my chin with his thumb. “I was a general in hell. What do you think?”
“I think you’re trying really hard to convince me how bad you are.”
He smiled. “I spent centuries in the underworld. I am what I am. If I were you, I’d take off those rose-colored glasses and think about what it is you’re trying to save. Just let my body die.”
“Why don’t you kill it yourself?” I asked, impatience bubbling inside me. “Just get it over with? Why are you letting them torture you?”
“I can’t,” he said, dropping his hand, and I stilled to listen. He clenched his jaw in frustration. “They’re guarding my body. They won’t let me near it.”
“The demons? How many are there?”
“More than even you could handle.”
“So, then, there’re two?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine myself
“If they succeed in taking me, you have to figure out what you’re capable of, Dutch, and you have to do it fast.”
“Why don’t you just tell me?”
He shook his head. Naturally. “That would be like telling a fledgling it can fly before it leaves the nest. It has to do it, to know it can on a visceral level. It’s instinct. If I do go back, if I am taken when my body dies, you’ll be alone. And yes, they’ll find you eventually.”
Well, crapola.
Rocket was gone, and there was simply no telling when he would be back. I once went two months without seeing him, and that incident had nothing to do with Reyes. No telling how long he would hide this time.
I strode back to Misery, my mouth still hot from the blistering kiss Reyes gave me before he disappeared, and called in some backup. Then I checked in with Cookie.
“Nothing yet,” she said, filling me in on her findings, or lack thereof.
“That’s okay, keep digging. I’m going to see Warren after this. Call me if you find anything interesting.”
“Will do.”
Taft, an officer who worked with my uncle, pulled up behind me in his patrol car as I closed my phone. A couple of neighborhood kids stood giggling, thinking I was getting in trouble. Kids in these parts rarely saw police as a positive force. It was hard to get past men in uniforms taking your mom or dad away in the middle of the night for
