Okay, I had to be honest with him, but I couldn’t tell him everything. That wouldn’t be fair to Reyes. I would tell him only what I had to. “I’m not sure how to say this,” I offered hesitantly, “but Reyes has definitely seen war, tons of it.” I watched Neil, studied him to gauge his reactions. “He was a general in an army for centuries, just not an army from this world.”
“He’s an alien?” Neil almost shouted.
“No,” I said, trying not to laugh. “He’s not. I can’t tell you everything.… He’s just a supernatural entity.”
“That’s it,” he said, rising from his desk. “You’re going into solitary.”
He grabbed my arm and lifted me out of my chair, albeit carefully. “What? I’m telling you shit.”
“No, you already told me that shit, I need new shit, shinier shit. And you’re holding out.”
“I am not. I just—”
“Do you know how many people I’ve told that story to?” He leaned down, his voice a harsh whisper, as if someone might hear. “Do you know how crazy it sounds?”
We were headed to the door. “Wait, you can’t actually put me in solitary.”
“Watch me.”
“Neil!”
“Luann,” he said when he opened the door, “get the restraints.”
Cookie had been sitting in Luann’s office and glanced up from her laptop, frowned in mild interest, then went back to her research.
“Okay, I give.” I showed my palms in surrender. When he eased his grip, I jerked my arm out of his hand then said through gritted teeth, “But don’t blame me when you start wetting your bed at night.”
He smiled at Luann congenially, then closed the door. “You got one chance. If you don’t make it good, you will never see the light of day again.”
“Fine,” I said, jabbing his chest with an index finger, “you want to play it rough, we’ll play it rough. Reyes Farrow is the son of Satan.” The moment I said it, the moment the words slid through my lips, I went into a state of shock. My hands flew over my mouth, and I stood for a very long time staring into space.
Reyes was going to kill me for letting a secret like that slip out. He was going to slice me into tiny pieces with his shiny blade; I just knew it. No, wait. I could fix this. I let my horrified gaze land on Neil. He seemed undecided on the solitary thing.
I dropped my hands and laughed. Or tried to laugh. Unfortunately, I sounded like a drowning frog, but I was rattled, discombobulated. “Just kidding,” I said, my voice straining under the pressure of certain death. I socked him on the arm. “You know how it is when you’re facing solitary confinement. You’ll say the craziest things.”
As I turned to sit back down—and to drop my jaw open to gawk at my own stupidity without him seeing—he said, “You’re not kidding.”
“Pffft,” I pfffted, turning back to him. “I was so kidding. Really? The son of Satan? Pffft.” I chuckled again and sat down. “So, where were we?”
“How is that possible?” He walked back to his desk in a daze. “I mean, how?”
Damn it. I totally gave myself away by floundering like a carp on dry land. I stood again and leaned over his desk. “Neil, really, you can’t tell anyone.”
The desperation in my voice brought him back to me. He blinked up and furrowed his brows in question.
“If there was ever anything in your life that you could not tell another living soul, Neil, this is it. I don’t know what Reyes would do if he found out that you knew. I mean—” I turned and paced away from him in thought. “—I don’t think he would hurt you. I really don’t, but there’s just no way to be certain. His behavior has been … erratic lately.”
“How is that possible?” he asked again.
“Well, he’s been under a lot of stress. And torture.”
“The son of Satan?”
“Are you listening to me?” I asked. Holy cow, talk about screwing the pooch. I screwed the whole litter. “You can’t breathe a word of this to anyone.” I’d already made the mistake of telling Cookie before I even considered the consequences. And now Neil? Why not just take out an ad in The New York Times? Put up a billboard on I-40? Have it tattooed on my ass?
“Charley,” Neil said, coming to his senses before me. “I understand. Not a word. I know what he can do, remember? I’m not about to incur his wrath. I promise you.”
With a huge sigh of relief, I sank back into the chair.
“But how is that possible?” he asked for the third time.
I offered a helpless shrug. “Even I don’t have all the details, Neil. I’m so sorry I told you. It’s not as bad as it sounds, really.”
“Bad?” he said, astonished. “How is that bad?”
“Ummm—” I gave it a moment’s thought. “—is that a trick question?”
“I happen to know he’s a good person, Charley. Just because his father is, well, broiled evil on toast. Do you know what true evil is?” he asked.
I shrugged my brows.
“When Americans talk of evil, they mean it in a malicious way, cruel and brutal. But that’s not what evil is. That’s simply our take on it.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Evil is simply the absence of good, the absence of God.”