Page 3 of The Grave Robber

“Someday, you’re going to have to tell me how you do that,”Jason said. “How you always know.”

I made a half-hearted attempt at a smile. “Someday,” I lied.

I’d grown up with gut feelings about people. Everyone hasthem, but my instincts were never wrong. So much so my friends accused me ofbeing psychic. But after an ancient demon who wanted to take over the worldpossessed me five years ago, before a sassy, godlike creature from Albuquerqueripped it out of me—with the help of a Rottweiler named Artemis—my powers ofintuition had multiplied tenfold. They’d morphed into an actual supernaturalability, for lack of a better phrase. A sleep-depriving, morbid, nightmarishability. One I was still trying to come to terms with.

I glanced at the kid yet again, then at my watch, growingmore anxious as the time drew near.

“You got somewhere to be?” Jason asked.

“Not yet.” I took note of the kid’s dirty hair and torndenim jacket, which looked three sizes too big. “What? You don’t card peoplehere?”

Jason followed my line of sight. “Zachary Church. He’s a kidfrom the neighborhood. Looks younger than he is.”

“There is no way that baby-faced punk, who’s about two shotsaway from puking his guts out, is twenty-one.”

“As of last week.”

“Ah.” I reached for the second bottle of Corona, but Jasonswiped it from under my nose and downed half the contents before I could uttera single protest.

“What?” he asked when he paused for a breath. “You weretaking too long.”

Realization dawned. “You just did that so you could callthat cute server over again.”

“Does that surprise you?”

“Not in the least. I was thinking about asking for hernumber.”

Jason’s jaw went slack seconds before he slammed it shut sohard the muscles jumped in protest.

“You know, a test of sorts.”

His hand tightened around the bottle.

“Make sure she’s really into you.”

His other hand curled into a fist.

I let my second-best grin, the slow and calculated one,spread across my face. “That’s what you get for drinking my beer, asshole.”

Jason held onto his irritation for a few gloriously tenseseconds before letting the agitation drain from his body. Good thing. The guypunched like a sledgehammer. He drew in a deep breath and chose his voice overviolence. “Does that mean you’re actually going to pay for your drinks thistime?”

“As long as I get the ninety-seven percentfriends-and-family discount.”

It was Jason’s turn to arch a sophisticated brow. “And youthink you qualify?”

That hurt. I grabbed my chest, hoping to generate some Oscarbuzz, and whispered, “Ouch.”

Jason scoffed and ordered two more beers while I returned tomy drawing. He gave me a minute before clearing his throat.

I ignored him.

“Now that I have your undivided attention—”

He didn’t.

“—I have a confession to make.”

Getting closer.

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