Second Grave on the Left (Charley Davidson, #2)

by Darynda Jones

“I guess you could call it that, but I didn’t do it on purpose. I heard an entire conversation in an instant, like it just appeared in my head. Yet I knew I wasn’t supposed to hear it. I knew the information was dangerous. I learned the name of a being powerful enough to bring about the end of the world.”

“I know how it sounds, believe me. But they were talking about this being that had escaped from hell and was born on Earth.”

“They said that he could destroy the world, he could bring on the apocalypse if he so chose.”

“No, but I thought maybe you had a sign that only dead people could see.” “How on planet Earth would I have a sign only dead people could see?” “Hey, it’s your world,” he said with a shrug.

“Like I said, totally on. You check out the origins of a dead guy riding around in Cookie’s car, and I’ll call you the minute I figure out where Reyes is.”

“Pig latin?” he asked, incredulity lining his handsome face. I snatched back the note and glared at him. “It’s the only foreign language she knows.” “You were hoping to stump me with pig latin?”

The only things I liked to scale on a semi-regular basis were those same guys who made this stuff look easy.

If you are the grim reaper, please contact me immediately. Okay. That was new.

This i-e? When two vowels go walking, the first one does the talking.”

“I bound his incorporeal self to his corporeal body. He can’t leave it. He’s bound to it.” “You can do that?” “Apparently. It just kind of came to me.” “Wow.” “No, what I mean is, he’s mad.” He paused and leveled an astonished stare on me. “What?” “He’s kind of furious,” I said, shrugging one corner of my mouth.

Owen looked down the hall each way, then leaned down to me. “Would you like to know what I think of you?” “Um, is that a trick question?” “Never mind,” he said, straightening. “I’ll save it for a more appropriate time.” He smirked in anticipation. “Like the day I haul your ass to jail.”