Sixth Grave on the Edge(103)

“Come back to me,” I whispered to him. I ordered him. “Rey’aziel, come back to me.”

His gaze shot to mine, and he did as I’d asked. He came back.

Then he was in front of me, but Artemis had calmed down. When he touched my face, she whimpered and nudged his hand with her nose. He gave her a quick caress.

I’d looked down, my brows sliding together in confusion. “Come back to me,” I ordered again.

He was grinning when I looked up again. “You have to kiss me, like in all of your fairy tales.”

“Kiss you?” I questioned.

“First you have to say yes, then you have to kiss me.”

I heard sirens in the distance and wondered who’d called the police. “I have to say yes?”

He sat beside me and nodded.

“And what am I agreeing to?”

“It’s a simple yes/no question, Dutch.”

His proposal. “You’re blackmailing me.” I couldn’t help but feel appalled. And a little flattered.

He shrugged. “If that’s what it takes, okay.”

I looked down at his face, bloodied and bruised, but still so impossibly handsome, my heart ached. “Yes,” I said, realizing how silly I’d been to make him wait for the answer I’d always known in my heart I would give. I could not live without him. It would be like expecting a sunflower to live without the sun. Without further ado, I placed my mouth on his.

He sucked in a soft breath from under my mouth. I leaned back. His incorporeal body was back where it belonged. “You look like heaven,” he said.

“That’s weird, because you look like hell.”

He laughed, then winced in pain.

“Are you really okay?” I asked.

“He’s fine,” the Dealer said as though disappointed.

Then I heard another voice. A female voice. One with a distinct nasally quality to it.

“Well?” she asked, standing beside me and tapping her bare toes in the dirt next to me. “What are you going to do about this?”

I looked over at her body, an all-consuming dread coming over me. No way. No way in hell was I going to put up with that witch for the rest of my life.

“Cry?” I asked.

“I’m dead, aren’t I?”

“Pretty much.”

“This is your fault.”

The sirens were getting closer. How was I going to explain all this?

“Jessica, look,” I said, trying to rush her, “you have to cross. I can’t do this with you.”

“Cross? Through you?” She sneered at me. “I would rather die.”

I started to point out the obvious, but she disappeared before I got another word out. Being haunted by a former best friend turned enemy number one was so going to suck like Tornado Alley in April.

I glanced up at the Dealer. He stood with arms over chest, his top hat perched to one side. “Mr. Joyce’s soul,” I said, reminding him that we had yet to settle a certain bargain.

He lifted first a shoulder, then one corner of his mouth, then the brim of his hat in a silent salute. “It’s all his.”

Relief washed over me, but it was short-lived, as a line of official vehicles raced toward us. Agent Carson led three other SUVs onto the scene. It had bullet holes in it when it swerved to a stop, covering me in dust. Her questionable act provided the perfect cover for me to quickly stash the knife, sliding it into the boot of my nonbroken ankle before the dust settled around us.

When she stepped out, I flattened the leg of my jeans and said, “You totally did that on purpose.”

Her men bolted from the vehicles, and she rushed over to me as Reyes eased up. Someone told him to stay put, but he rose to his feet anyway. So stubborn.

“Carson,” I said after she checked for a pulse on Jessica’s throat.

I couldn’t look at her. It had been a long, long drop, and it showed. I glanced around. The Dealer was gone, of course.

“There are more on the roof,” I added as an agent helped me to my feet. I balanced on one foot to keep my weight off the broken one. It would heal in a few days. A cast would only annoy me, so I didn’t let the extent of my injuries show. “I heard gunshots after I escaped them.”

Agent Carson barked a few orders, sending men into the elevators before giving me her attention. “I suppose you have an explanation.” She looked at me first, then Reyes, then back at me.

I pulled my lower lip between my teeth and shrugged. “I’m still working on it.”

A plethora of cop cars were speeding onto the site, lights flashing and sirens blazing.

“Well, hurry,” she said, ordering another of her men to guide them. “We’ve been tailing you, worried something like this might happen.”