Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet (Charley Davidson)

15

Your existence gives me a headache.

Go stand over there.

—T-SHIRT

Twenty minutes later, I found myself hog-tied in a basement-level room in the asylum. Donovan didn’t want to take the chance that one of his club members would come to the house and find me all tied up and helpless, so the three of them led me over to the asylum and down a dilapidated staircase. Eric found a chair, and the tying commenced. Or, well, the taping. They had no rope, so they brought out the duct tape. Men had such a thing for duct tape.

Eric bent over the back of the chair and kissed my neck. “See you on the flip side, gorgeous. Don’t go breaking into anything I wouldn’t.”

I smiled and nuzzled him between my head and shoulder. He was a good kid. And sexy as all get out. This was such a bad position for someone like me to be in. Tied up and helpless with three hot guys vying for my attention. I totally needed to get out more.

He nibbled my earlobe a bit, then left before I could even say goodbye.

Michael offered me that cool smirk he carried with such style and bent to kiss my cheek. “I have a feeling we’ll meet again,” he said before saluting and heading away.

And that left me alone with Donovan.

He kneeled in front of me, his face quite handsome in the low light that streamed in from a single high window. He wrapped both arms around my waist and wedged in between my legs. “You’re a brave woman,” he said, his smile genuine.

I wanted to tell him about Artemis, because before she died, she had been his dog. I wanted him to know that she was with me and doing well, that she’d saved my life at least twice already, but I had no idea how he’d take that. He probably thought I was enough of a freak without bringing his departed dog into the picture, so I decided to keep that bit of info to myself for the time being.

“You’re really going to Mexico?” I asked.

“To start with. Who knows where we’ll end up, but things are getting too dicey around here.” He rubbed my leg with one hand, his fingers getting dangerously close to the crest between my legs, otherwise known as Virginia. “You could go with us,” he said without looking up at me.

He was dead serious, and I knew he’d let me come in a heartbeat if I wanted to. But how could I possibly leave? Some women were the drop-everything-and-run-off-to-Mexico kind of girls, but I was not. I had responsibilities. And a case to solve. And demons after my ass. Come to think of it, running didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

Nah, I couldn’t leave Cookie. Or Gemma. Or Mr. Wong. Or … Reyes popped into my head no matter how hard I tried to keep him out. His shimmering dark eyes and long thick lashes. Who was I kidding? I couldn’t leave him either.

Yet kneeling in front of me was one of the sweetest men I’d ever met. Biker or not, he knew how to treat a girl.

True, he duct-taped me to a chair, but that had been my idea.

“I’ll let you know where we are when we get there,” he said, not waiting for an answer from me. “You’ll always be welcome.”

“Right,” I scoffed, not believing him for a minute. “You’ll find some Mexican beauty who makes you want to get married and have pequeños banditos for the first time in your life, and you’ll forget all about me.”

The sadness that washed over him spilled out into me. “Not likely, love.” He ran his thumb over my bottom lip, then covered it with his own, taking it between his teeth and suckling before pressing his mouth to mine.

It was a nice kiss, soft and unhurried, and as welcome as a delicate rain on the high plains. It was what I needed. A healing kind of karma swam around me as he pulled my hips to his. I spread my knees and reveled in the feel of his erection against my most sensitive girl part. And I swore if I hadn’t been taped down, I would have jumped him right then and there. I was such a hussy.

“I’m not sure you should be doing that, Miss Charlotte.”

I broke off the kiss with a breathless gasp. Rocket was standing right behind Donovan, hands on his hips in disapproval.

“Rocket,” I said, straightening in the chair. “Donovan was just helping me with … my contacts.”

Donovan raised his brows humorously.

Rocket furrowed his. “Did you swallow them?”

Rocket was like a giant Pillsbury Doughboy with a kind face and a mushy body, which made him the best hugger around.

“No, I didn’t swallow them. He was just—” Before I could come up with another plausible lie, I looked over and saw Strawberry Shortcake, a departed nine-year-old who could make me cringe at forty paces. I hadn’t seen her in a while, so it was actually nice to know she was still here and okay. But she wasn’t what gave me pause. While she also stood with her hands on her hips, disapproval lining her pretty face, right beside her stood a tiny girl with a short dark bob and overalls.

As Donovan looked over his shoulder, wanting to see what I was seeing, I let a soft smile spread over my face. I turned my palm up, twisting my arm in my shirtsleeve as the tape held it in place, inviting her closer, and said, “You must be Blue.”

Her oval face, tiny and so pale, it was hard to make out her features other than her huge dark eyes, was a picture of shock and awe. She’d obviously never seen anyone kiss before. If I’d known that would lure her to me, I would have dragged Donovan in here and made out with him ages ago.

Rocket turned back to her, and he seemed just as surprised as I was to see her standing there.

Strawberry walked up then, her mouth a thin line of disappointment. “Who is he?” she asked, pointing at the scruffy guy who still had his hands wrapped around my ass.

With a grin, I said, “This is Donovan. He just happens to own this building you’re standing in.”

“I thought you said you were going to go on a date with my brother.”

For her sake, I tamped down the horror I felt at the prospect of dating Taft, her cop brother. He was okay as far as guys went, but I’d never felt the slightest inclination to bang him, and that was my criteria for dating. If that primal attraction wasn’t there from the get-go, it would likely never show up. Not in my world, anyway.

“No, you said I was going to go on a date with your brother.” I leaned over and kissed her nose, an act she didn’t appreciate but one I enjoyed im mensely. “As it turns out, he’s all booked up.”

“Yes, with gross girls who wear too much makeup. You may not be very pretty, but at least you don’t wear too much makeup.”

I coughed back a retort. “Thank you, I think. But Donovan’s a pretty good guy despite his tendency to rob banks.”

“Really?” Her eyes came to life as she looked at him with a whole new perspective. “He’s a bank robber like Jesse James? I just thought he was a scruffy biker guy.”

I laughed. Who knew the kid would be attracted to bank robbers? “He is a scruffy biker guy.”

“Hey,” he said, nudging me with his knee.

“But there’s more to him than meets the eye.”

His mouth curved into something resembling doubt. “Are you really having a conversation with someone else or are you just avoiding the issue at hand?”

“And what issue would that be?”

“That I may never see you again.” His expression remained impassive, but his emotions grew somber.

“D,” Eric yelled from the stairs, “we have to hit it!”

He took in a deep draft of air and ran his fingers down my jaw and under my chin. “If I don’t hear from you in two hours, I’m going to assume you’re still down here and send help.”

My brows shot up. “I’ve seen the kind of help you have,” I said, referring to his merry band of criminal associates. “I think I’ll take my chances.”

“I’ll call the police,” he corrected. “So let me know when you get out of here.”

“Okay, promise.”

“D! If you aren’t coming, can I take Odin? That’s a sweet ride.”

“No!” he shouted.

“Fine. Shit. Don’t blow a gasket.”

I sat ogling Donovan, a new appreciation blossoming in my chest.

“What?” he asked, suddenly wary.

“Odin? You named your bike?”

He offered me a wink as he picked up the roll of duct tape. “I was inspired by a crazy girl in a Jeep named Misery.”

“You named your car Misery?” Strawberry asked, her face twisted in distaste.

“Look,” Donovan said, his expression suddenly severe. “Edwards is not all there, if you know what I mean.”

“Edwards?”

“The guy who wanted to take you out.”

“Really?” I asked, interested. “Is he cute?”

“The blond in the van who wanted to slice you into itty-bitty pieces.”

“Oh, that Edwards.”

He laughed. “He got kicked out of sniper training school in the Marines, and he hasn’t been the same since.”

“The Marines may have been on to something.”

“Just watch your back, okay?”

“Consider it watched.”

He grinned and tore a strip of tape away from the roll, readying it for more duty. I laughed. “I think I’m secure.”

“Nope, but you will be.” He ran the tape in circles around the back of the chair and over my rib cage just under Danger and Will Robinson.

The act emphasized their fullness, a fact I was fairly certain he didn’t miss.

“That’s better,” he said, his gaze fixed on the girls.

I rolled my eyes. “Really? This is how you’re going to leave me?”

Before I could say anything else, he lunged forward and planted his mouth on mine again. This kiss was anything but gentle. Need and longing radiated out of him as his tongue slipped past my lips and between my teeth. Just like last time we’d kissed, he tasted faintly of beer and cinnamon. I heard a soft moan, and I realized it was coming from me.

His hands rose to my face, his fingers diving into my hair, pulling parts of it loose from the hair tie. He cupped my chin with one hand and angled my head to give him better access. Slanting against me, he deepened the kiss even more. I wanted to mold myself to him again, to feel the hardness of his body against mine, but he’d taped me to the back of the chair. Of course, that didn’t stop one hand from meandering back to my ass. He pulled me closer—chair and all—then let his hand slide up to Will, to measure her weight in his palm, to test her peak with his thumb.

“D, what the fuck?”

With great reluctance, he pulled away from me. His lids were still closed when he yelled, “I’m coming, damn it!” Then he focused on me once again. “Not literally, unfortunately.” He brushed a thumb over my mouth again. “You are so very special, Charley. I will be back.”

Without another word, he rose and walked out of the room, his big boots echoing against the walls until I heard a door close above me. I sat stewing in a fog of desire and warmth until I realized I still had an audience. And I couldn’t help but notice that Blue’s jaw had fallen open. Poor kid.

After a long draw of air to get control of my hormones, I asked Rocket, “Are you going to introduce us?”

“Miss Charlotte, I don’t think you should be kissing boys on the mouth like that. Especially in front of my sister.”

“You’re right.” I hung my head in shame. “She’s very pretty, though.”

“I’ll fix your hair,” Strawberry said. She stood behind me and ripped the hair tie out, then proceeded to rake her fingers over my scalp. For the love of sunshine, I’d be lucky to leave this place with any hair left at all.

Blue was still as far away from me as she could get without being in the next room, but I could hardly believe I was finally getting to see her. I’d been coming here for years and had never even been offered so much as a glimpse. And she was absolutely adorable. Her short hair curled under at her ears. Her bangs cut to meticulous precision.

After a moment, she took note of the fact that I was looking at her. She closed her mouth and stepped back, her head down and her shoulders concave.

“It was so nice to meet you,” I said a split second before she melted into the far wall.

Then I was lifted, chair and all, off the ground and into the most awkward hug I’d ever encountered. Rocket was a hugger. It didn’t matter that my face was being ground into his cool shoulder with the unnatural position.

“Where have you been?” he asked, and I couldn’t help but notice how air became precious fast when your supply ran out. “You haven’t been here in forever.”

“Rocket,” Strawberry said, her voice nasally with a whine, “I can’t reach her hair, and have you seen it? Maybe we should just shave her head and start over.”

My eyes flew open. She was probably one of those girls who shaved her dolls’ heads. Those girls were creepy.

“No shaving heads,” I said into Rocket’s shoulder.

“I have no idea what you’re saying,” she replied. “I’ll go find some scissors.”

Panic seized me but only for a moment. The departed were limited in what they could do with objects on this plane. Surely she couldn’t really get a hold of a pair of scissors.

“Or maybe I can find a knife.” She disappeared down the hall.

“Rocket,” I said, my voice muffled. “I can’t breathe.”

And just like every other time he’d picked me up for one of his bear hugs, he let go. I crashed to the ground, the chair cracking and tipping awkwardly back, hovering on the brink of oblivion, until the weight of my head won and I fell to the floor. For the second time in as many days, my big head bounced off the cement when it hit, and pain shot down my spine.

I squeezed my eyes shut to block out the sudden burst of discomfort. And there I sat, molded to the chair with duct tape, my feet in the air and my head lying in some kind of grayish remains.

This wasn’t uncomfortable at all.

The sound of motorcycles roaring to life flooded the room. After a few minutes, the rumbling faded as the Bandits—literally—drove off into the sunset. So to speak. At first I wondered how much time I should give them before I managed to escape and call the police; then I wondered if I could escape. What if I couldn’t? Would he really call them after a couple of hours? Would I die down here of hypothermia and dehydration?

I looked so unhealthy when dehydrated.

That was not the way to go in my book. Better to die with plenty of fluids in my body. Like at a waterpark. Or during a wet T-shirt contest.

“You look funny,” Rocket said, and I figured we could catch up while I lay there stewing in worry.

“Oh, yeah?” I volleyed. “Well, you look fantastic. Have you been working out?”

A huge boyish smile broke across his face. “You always say that. I have new names for you.”

“Okay.” I looked around to admire his artwork and frowned. As far as I knew, every room in this asylum had been covered over and over again with the names of the departed Rocket scratched into its plaster walls, but the walls in this room, in this huge, cavernous vastness, were completely untouched. I craned my neck to see what I could, taking in the blank canvases around me.

Rocket started for the next room before he realized I wasn’t following him. “Miss Charlotte, come on.”

“I can’t right now, hon.” My absent response didn’t deter him.

“But I have to show you. Something’s going on.” He took my arm and pulled me toward the door, grinding my hair in the oily contents even more. The chair scraped along the cement, but the closer we got to the door, the more worried I became. There was no way I was fitting through that door at this angle. Unless I lost my head altogether, which judging by Rocket’s strength, was a strong possibility.

“Rocket, wait,” I said, but he kept pulling and I kept sliding.

I struggled in the chair, fought against the restraints as the doorframe drew closer and closer.

“Rocket, I’m not kidding.”

He stopped suddenly and looked back at me. “Do you think rain is scary?”

“Um—”

But he was gone. He’d already snapped back to attention and refocused on the task at hand. Damn my hesitation.

“Rocket!” I yelled, trying to break his concentration. “I have a question for you.” He paused, so I hurried and asked, “Why are there no names in this room? These walls are completely empty.”

He cast me a withering look. “I can’t touch these. I’m saving them.”

“Really?” I asked, fighting duct tape tooth and nail. “For what? The apocalypse?”

“No, silly. For the end of the world.”

I stopped. “Wait, what? Rocket, what are you talking about?” Everyone had been hinting at some kind of supernatural war, but nobody had mentioned the end of the world. I was only teasing when I’d said that to Reyes.

“You know, when lots and lots of people die because of the decision of a few men. Or even just one.”

“One. You mean a dictator like Hitler? There’ll be another Holocaust?”

“Not Hitler. A man pretending to be human.”

Hadn’t the sisters said something along those lines? A man pretending to be a human. Okay, well that left out half the population, since it was not a woman. “But who? When?” I’d always dreamed of going back in time and killing Hitler pre-crazy time. Any one of a million people would have done the same if only we had a crystal ball. I may not have had a crystal ball, but I had Rocket. And his head was ball-like. And shiny. And I could see through it. He’d work. “Rocket, what man? What will he do?”

“I don’t know yet. He may or may not do it. It’s all still floating.”

I shifted for a better position, grunting a little in the pro cess. “Floating?”

“Yes, like when people make decisions and maybe the person who was not going to die yet does, or the person who was supposed to die doesn’t. They are floating.”

“So, these decisions aren’t carved in stone?”

“No, they’re carved in my walls.”

“But who, Rocket? Who’s supposed to do all of this?” I swore, if he said Reyes, I was going to scream.

He wagged a finger at me. “Uh-uh-uh. No peeking, Miss Charlotte.”

This was more information from Rocket than I’d had in a while. He knew things that were going to happen. That was clairvoyance if I’d ever heard it.

I thought of my dad. Wondered how much time he had. “Can I give you a name?”

“But I have something to show you.”

“I’m kind of tied up right now. Leland Gene Davidson.”

His lashes did that fluttering thing they did when he was shuffling through millions of names. “Three are dead. Two are still alive.”

“Okay, but the ones who are still alive, do you know when they’re going to die? Is it soon?”

“Not when. Only if.”

“But, is he floating?”

“No. Not floating.”

Well, this was like driving a supercharged Challenger on the highway to nowhere. I gave up and decided to choose another route. “Rocket, can I tell when someone is going to die?”

He stopped and regarded me with a look of utter puzzlement. “Of course you can tell when someone is going to die. It’s your job.”

I thought as much. I wondered when I was going to die. “Am I floating?”

“Miss Charlotte, you’re the grim reaper,” he said with a snort. “You’re always floating.”

“So, I could die for real? At any second?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.” That was disappointing. “Well, thanks for giving it to me straight.” I blew dust out of my bangs.

“You could be killed by a bicycle. Or crushed by a big rock. Or stabbed with a knitting needle.”

“Okay.”

“Or even pushed down some stairs.”

“Right, I got it. Thanks.”

“Or you might be shot in the head with a gun.”

“Rocket! I’m good. Seriously, no more elaboration needed.” But he grabbed my arm, and all the innocence drained from his face. He wasn’t a little boy anymore. He knew too much. Had seen too much. “Or,” he said, his voice taking on an eerie depth, “you could be killed by the one you love most. Along with everyone else.”

Well, that sucked more ass than liposuction.

He let go of my arm and stood to inspect the area. I knew what he was feeling. I felt the same thing even before Reyes materialized, and I wondered how long he’d been there. Never having been a fan of Reyes’s, Rocket disappeared the moment a sea of black robes burst into the room, undulating around me until they settled at Reyes’s feet. He spoke from the shadow of his hood, refusing to show his face. “You agreed to be tied up when there is a legion of demons after you?”

“Yes. I didn’t really think of it in those terms.”

He released an exasperated sigh and started forward. “Someday, I will understand how that mind of yours works.”

I snorted. “Good luck. It seemed like a good alternative to dying outright at the time.”

“When exactly was your life in danger?”

“Are you going to help me out of this or not?”

He kneeled beside me and pushed back the hood of his robe to reveal his exotically handsome face. A face that had fresh lacerations over its brow and cheekbone.

Startled, I asked, “You’re still fighting them? Hunting them?”

His head cocked to one side. “Did you actually expect me to stop?”

“How long can this go on? How many are there?”

He was inspecting the duct tape. “Only a handful now. There are very few humans on Earth who can see what these can see. My brethren are running out of options.”

“You’re not killing them, are you? They’re innocent. They’re just people who happen to be able to see the departed.”

“I kill them only if I have to. Are you going to question my every move while you are duct-taped to a chair?”

“Sorry. I was just hoping you’d stop hunting them.”

“They won’t stop trying to get to you, Dutch. Hedeshi lied.”

“I know. I just meant … You’re getting pretty beat up in the pro cess.” His sensual mouth tilted up at one corner. “Worried about me?”

“No.” I added a pfft just to emphasize how much I was not worried. “You didn’t look worried with that guy’s tongue down your throat.” Great. He did see that. “Jealous?”

“No.”

“’Cause you seem jealous.”

His lashes lowered as he narrowed his eyes at me, but the high-pitched voice of a departed nine-year-old with masochistic tendencies drifted down from the stairwell before he could reply.

“I found a knife!” Strawberry said.

Holy shit. “Get me out of this,” I said to Reyes, wiggling my fingers.

“Hurry before she comes back.”