Eighth Grave After Dark Page 72

He let go and stepped back, and I understood.

“I wasn’t in danger, but my body was. Is that it? If I accidentally brought one of those demons back with me and it killed my corporeal body, you think I will leave.”

“I don’t think, Dutch. I know. You’ll have no choice. But it wasn’t just that.”

“Then what? I truly want to understand.”

He bit down, welding his teeth together as he tried to explain. “I didn’t want you to see … my world. I never wanted you to see where I came from. And I damned sure didn’t want you to see me in that place. To see the monster.”

How ridiculous and vulnerable he could be over the craziest things. I wanted to kick him. But mostly I wanted to rip off his clothes because that was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. Reyes walking through smoke and ash, literally made of fire, his body startlingly powerful, his allure breathtaking.

His lids narrowed as he tried to read my emotions. Or maybe he’d already read them and thought he misunderstood. Stepping closer, braced both hands on the wall beside my head. Then he bent until his mouth was inches from mine. “You really are a god,” he said, in awe of me when he had no idea the depths of my astonishment, of my awe of him.

“And you really were created in the fires of sin.”

“You’re repulsed?”

“Oh yes,” I said, curling my fingers into the hem of his shirt and coaxing him closer. “Completely.”

His reaction spoke volumes. He’d actually expected me to be disgusted. As if. Did he truly not understand the measure of his magnetism?

He warred with what to do next. He wanted to be furious. He wanted to rant and rave. But I could think of much better things to do.

Almost reluctantly, he looked to the side. “It’s coming.”

Time. He meant time was about to bounce back. Even a seasoned expert like Reyes could hold it for only so long.

My reaction to his world had thrown him. He glanced at each of the faces around us, then dropped his hands and strode out of the small room. I wanted to call him back. Mostly because I was in love with him beyond my wildest imaginings and I hated, hated, to see him in pain. But partly because in all the upheaval, I forgot to tell him something I’d learned while in his world: Lucifer was no longer in hell. He was here. He was on earth.

* * *

Cookie and I called Kit the moment I came to my senses. We sat in my office, then stood, then paced, each of us taking turns holding Beep. Agent Waters had argued with me at first. Furious Kit was wasting her time with me, he informed me every chance he got that they’d already gone through the house with a fine-toothed comb. I told him to quit being an ass and go save his niece.

The house was in Bernalillo and they were in Albuquerque, so Kit sent a squad car over there while they rushed that way. Cookie and I waited with bated breath. Gemma came in and waited with us. Then Denise took Beep to change her and brought her back. Still no call.

When the pediatrician arrived for the checkup, I was grateful for the distraction. We went upstairs and he asked over a thousand questions. Thankfully, Denise stuck around to help.

Reyes walked in, his expression sheepish yet stubborn after his brusque exodus earlier, and we watched as the doctor stripped her down—Beep, not Denise—for the checkup, and while she didn’t like being naked one bit, it gave me a chance to look her over, too. I counted her toes and kissed the bottoms of her feet while Reyes tested the fine layer of hair that covered her body. We both marveled once again at how perfect she was.

“How strange,” the doctor said in a thick Middle Eastern accent, and we both snapped to attention at his observation.

“What?” Reyes asked, his tone sharp.

“Oh, there’s nothing to be concerned about yet, but this little sweetheart has dextrocardia.”

I gasped. “Is it serious?”

“No,” he said with a soft chuckle. “It simply means her heart is on the right side of her chest.”

Right. I knew that; he just took me by surprise.

“I’ve never actually seen it.” He poked around a little more aggressively, thoroughly perturbing his patient. “And it looks like all of her organs could be a mirror image. I’ll have to order some tests to be sure.”

“But she’s okay?”

“Sure seems to be. We’ll know for certain when you bring her in. How does tomorrow morning look?”

We both stood there, unsure of what to say.

“Tomorrow morning is great,” Denise said for us.

“And she has a very unusual birthmark.”

“Birthmark?” I asked, peering closer.

He used the light from his otoscope to examine a mark on Beep’s left shoulder. “It’s very light. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

I had nothing. Both Reyes and I stood staring down at our daughter. So light, they were almost invisible to the naked eye were the tiny curves and lines that made up Reyes’s tattoo. The map to the gates of hell. The key to Hades.

“Gosh, that is strange,” I said, stunned.

“But everything checks out A-OK. You had a good midwife,” he said. “I’ll just need a sample of her blood, and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“You need my midwife’s blood?”

“A sense of humor. That’s good. You’re getting around well, I see.”

“Oh yeah, I’m a fast healer.”

“Good. Good to know. My office will contact you with the results of the blood test, but I’m sure she’s fine. Healthy, strong lungs, good heartbeat even if it is on the other side of her chest. I’ll have my staff dig up some literature for you. It will be there when you arrive tomorrow.” He took out a blood-collecting kit with a lancet and a small glass vial. “Just call my office around nine. Peggy will let you know when to bring her in.”

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