Second Grave on the Left by Darynda Jones Page B

I reached him. “All of these. They should not be here. They have to follow the rules just like everybody else.” And Rocket knew it was my job to help them cross. I looked at the wall he’d referenced. It held hundreds of names from dozens of countries. It amazed me how he knew this stuff.
    I decided to test him, to see what would pour out of him at the mention of Reyes’s otherworldly—for lack of a better term—name. But first I would ask about Mimi Jacobs. I needed to make sure she was still alive. “Okay, but I have some names for you now.”
    He stopped and turned to me. Nothing on Earth got Rocket’s attention faster than the mentioning of a name. His eyes shone eagerly, almost hungrily.
    I stepped closer, not wanting to lose him if he took off on one of his quests through the haunted halls of the asylum. “Mimi Anne Jacobs. Her maiden name was Marshal.”
    He bowed his head, his lids fluttering as if he were a search engine scouring the recesses of his own mind for information. He stopped and looked back at me. “No. Not her time yet.”
    Relief washed over me, and I braced myself for the next name. I knew it was fruitless to ask Rocket anything else about Mimi, though I suspected he knew more. Now Reyes. After placing a hand on his arm for good measure, I asked, “Rocket, what do you know about Rey’aziel?”
    His lips pressed together and he stood motionless for a heartbeat, two, then leaned into me and said quietly, “It shouldn’t be here, Miss Charlotte.”
    Rocket had said that before when I asked about Reyes Farrow. Apparently, he knew they were one and the same.
    I squeezed his arm reassuringly and whispered, “Why?”
    His face transformed. “Miss Charlotte, I told you.” He chastised me with a scowl that looked more like a pout. “He should never have been a boy named Reyes. He’s Rey’aziel. He should never have been born at all.”
    I’d also heard that before. “Rocket, is his corporeal body still alive?”
    He bit his lower lip in thought before answering. “The boy Reyes is still here, but he broke the rules, Miss Charlotte. No breaking rules,” he said, wagging a finger in warning.
    Once again, I breathed a little easier. I was terrified Reyes’s body would pass before I could find him. The thought of losing him petrified me.
    “Martians can’t become human just because they want to drink our water,” he continued.
    “So, Rey’aziel wanted our water?” I was trying so hard to understand his metaphors, but it wasn’t easy. Nothing about Rocket was easy.
    His boyish eyes focused on mine. He stared a long moment before answering. “He still does,” he said, his fingers brushing over my cheek. “He wants it more than air.”
    I breathed in softly. Rocket rarely seemed so lucid, so rational. So poetic. “Reyes said once he was born for me, to be with me. Is that what scares you, Rocket? Are you afraid for me?”
    “It’s Rey’aziel, Miss Charlotte. Of course, I’m afraid for you. I’m afraid for everyone.”
    Oh. That was probably bad. I squared my shoulders and faced him head-on. “Rocket, do you know where his body is?”
    He shook his head with a tsk . “He can’t break the rules.”
    “What rules, Rocket?” Maybe the clues were in the rules Reyes had apparently broken. I knew I was grasping at straws, but without Angel’s help, I had nothing.
    “No playing hide-and-seek in the house.”
    “Which house?” I asked, a little surprised by his answer. Reyes was hiding his body. Was that the hide-and-seek Rocket was referring to?
    He stilled and looked down for a moment as if sensing something. Without warning, he slammed a hand over my mouth and shoved me against the wall. Leaning into me, he glanced around the room, his eyes wide with fear. “Shhhh,” he whispered. “It’s here.”
    And in that moment, I felt him. The room became charged with heat and static, like an electrical storm was brewing within its walls. With the fluttering of wings, a darkness