Eleventh Grave in Moonlight (Charley Davidson #11)

“Rey’aziel?” Dr. Mayfield asked.

I bounced back to her. “Sorry. Reyes Farrow. My husband. You know, I used to think explaining the particulars of my less-than-ordinary life to a total stranger would be difficult, but this hasn’t been bad. I was born the grim reaper: check. I was still learning about my abilities when I found out that I had once been a god with my own dimension: check. I’m married to the son of Satan, a.k.a. Reyes Alexander Farrow, who we recently found out is also a god, through no fault of his own: check. My stepmother was a hell-bitch extraordinaire: check. Somehow that seems important in this situation. And there is yet another god, a malevolent one, on this plane who is in cahoots with Reyes’s dad and wants to kill our daughter, whom we had to send away to keep safe.” I beamed at her, purposely ignoring the pang in my chest at the reminder that my daughter had to be sent away from me just to be safe. Just to have the barest glimmer of hope to live. “This has not been bad at all.”

When it looked like Dr. Mayfield was going to try to refute something I’d said, I raised a hand to stop her. “I know what you’re going to say. And, yes, technically being the son of Satan, among other things, makes my husband an iffy prospect.” I shot him a grin. “But he was a god first. The God Jehovah’s little brother, in fact, and I like to think that that part of him, the good part, is stronger than the evil part that emerged when he was forged in the fires of sin and raised by demons in a hell dimension. Though,” I said, scooting closer, “the minute you get a load of him, your first thoughts will definitely be the carnal kind, if you know what I mean.” I gave her a conspiratorial wink. When she only stared, I added, “Boy’s hot.”

Reyes dipped his head, trying to hide a grin, as the doctor picked up her pen and started outlining again.

“Nice T-shirt,” Reyes said to me. Apparently, no one else in the room could hear him.

I was wearing my I LIKE IT WHEN MY PSYCHIATRIST PLAYS WITH MY MARBLES T-shirt. It was either that or my EXCUSE ME WHILE I FREUDIAN SLIP INTO SOMETHING MORE COMFORTABLE pajama top, but I didn’t feel that wearing pajamas to a shrink session would send the right message. I was a professional, after all. Also, I’d gotten mustard on it and had to change.

The kid on the ceiling had stopped moving. He was gawking at the ol’ ball and chain commanding the room from the corner pocket. That happened a lot when Reyes was around.

I nailed him with a fake scowl. I was on an assignment, after all.

“We need to talk,” he said.

Uh-oh. Nothing good ever came out of a conversation that started with “We need to talk.” I mouthed, “Later,” and shooed him away while the doctor took a few more notes.

He laughed softly, and for a split moment, the doctor lost her focus and let her gaze dart, just for a second, over her shoulder.

He winked, the saucy flirt, and dematerialized, leaving me alone with my psychiatrist again. I was pretty sure he’d been breaking a few HIPAA laws by being there, anyway.

“Did you hear something?” she asked.

“You mean besides the thunderous and devastating ramifications if I can’t figure out how to take this god down and he completes his mission?”

“Yes. Besides that.”

“If I could just get all my memories back … I know there’s something hidden, something important that will tell me how to deal with him. Like it’s on the tip of my tongue, only with more of a brain analogy.”

“Okay. So, why does your sister refuse to do regressive therapy with you? Besides the obvious?”

“Oh, that whole ethical dilemma thing on account of her being my sister and all? Yeah, well, she’s afraid it will bring out some strange new power in me and I’ll accidently blow Albuquerque off the face of the planet. Which is ridonculous.” I snorted and rolled my eyes. “I can totally control my powers now.”

She took more notes.

“Most of the time.”

She continued to write.

“I don’t think the ‘Lumpy’s Taco Hut incident’ should count. That place was an eyesore. People should be thanking me.”

She offered me her attention once again. “Lumpy’s Taco Hut? That was you?”

Shit. I forgot that whole thing was still under investigation. “Pfft, no.” Thank Reyes’s Brother, Lumpy’s had been closed due to code violations at the time and no one was hurt.

“Ah.” She shut her notebook. “Is there anything else you want to share? Anything you think I should be aware of?”

“No.” I shook my head in thought. “Not especially. Unless you count the fact that I’m going to take over the world.”

“The whole thing?”

“Well, I’m going to try to take over the world.”

“And you feel you’re prepared for world domination?”

I lifted a noncommittal shoulder. “I’m taking a business class.”

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