by Kim Harrison
“I do, too,” she said defiantly, but she looked frightened as well. “I fear,” she said as if finding strength in it for the first time. “I’m creative. I think I could love. I say that means I have a soul. It might not be perfect, like Madison’s, but I’ve got one. And it might be in danger if I just let Tammy die.”
Bemused, I looked at them both, Nakita flustered and looking like she’d done something wrong, and Barnabas, angry and surly. “You guys don’t have souls?” I asked, and Barnabas dropped his gaze to his faded sneakers.
“Angels don’t,” he said bitterly, almost jealously. “Even ones kicked out of heaven.”
A semi clattered past, and I held my hair to my head. “Who says?”
“I have a soul,” Nakita said firmly, but her expression was haunted. “I have a piece of Madison’s.”
Mine? How could she have a part of my soul?
“I . . . don’t think I can give it back to you,” Nakita said. “I’m sorry.” She was pleading, looking both frightened and desperate, her blue eyes pinched in concern. “It’s just a little sliver from yours, it got stuck in me with the black wings. I’ll ask the seraphs to try to take it from me if you want it back. It might make things easier. I don’t think we’re supposed to have one—”
“No!” I said immediately, and Barnabas’s eyes squinted. “No,” I said softer. “You keep it. Are you sure? I mean, I don’t feel like I’m missing anything.”
Nakita’s smile was blissful, as if a great guilt had been lifted from her. “I feel it,” she said firmly. “I knew it was there ever since the black wings, but I didn’t know what it was because sometimes it makes me hurt inside, but even then it feels good.” Shyly, she looked up at me from lowered eyes. “Thank you.”
I touched her arm so she’d realize I knew what it meant to her. “You’re welcome.” She had a part of my soul? Jeez, just how much had I ruined her existence?
“You do not have part of Madison’s soul,” Barnabas said disdainfully.
“I do!” Nakita’s anger flared. “You need to shut up, you filthy light reaper! You don’t have one, so you don’t know anything about it!”
“Nakita,” I admonished, but it almost looked like Barnabas appreciated the insult—even if it was technically inaccurate. His eyes were on the traffic, and I followed his gaze to guess that it was clear enough to cross with two angels with me. “Let’s go,” I said. “Nakita, I’m glad you have a part of my soul. It’s the least I can do for having put black wings inside you. Keep it. Make it yours.”
My feet hit the pavement, and the heat rose up in a wave. I could hear them following, going slow, then fast as cars came and went around us. Barnabas hustled to catch up, and as we reached the curb, he whispered, “Do you think she really has part of your soul?”
I shrugged. “If she says so. I don’t feel like I’m missing anything.”
Nakita strolled past us, intent on reaching the apartment building. She looked breezy and bright, clearly relieved that the question of her soul had been settled. “Tammy is on the third floor. I can sense her resonance.”
Barnabas and I found the sidewalk together. He looked angry. “Barnabas,” I started, and he interrupted me.
“I’m fine,” he said brusquely.
“Who’s to say you don’t have a soul?” I said. “Maybe that’s why you got kicked out of heaven in the first place?”
His pace faltered, and he looked at me in wonder. Something in me ached to see him hurting inside this much. “I don’t have a soul,” he said, but there was a thread of doubt in it. “We weren’t made to have one. We were made to serve, not delight in God’s creations.”
Serve? I thought, then filed that away to think about later. “Well, you did get kicked out because you loved someone, right?” I said, watching my shoes scuff the thick cracks as we slowly followed Nakita. It was the first time I dared to ask him about his past, and though he seemed uncomfortable, I wanted to know. “And you found value in life, not just someone’s soul. You can’t value something you don’t have, can you?”
“N-no,” he stammered, but Nakita had already opened the front door and was waiting for us. The cool air flowed out, but that wasn’t why I shivered. Barnabas has a soul, doesn’t he?
I followed Nakita inside, seeing the faded carpet with the flat, black spots that had to be old gum. It smelled like dry dirt, and there was a thick layer of dust on the narrow sections of hardwood between the carpeted stairs and the wall. A bank of mail slots took up one wall with a scratched table under it. There were a couple of pieces of mail sitting there, and nothing else.
“Upstairs?” I offered, and Nakita started up, then me, and finally Barnabas, still probably thinking about his soul or the lack of one. Someone was playing music too loudly, and it rapidly grew as we ascended.
We rounded the second landing and started up the last stairway. The music was coming from the third floor. It thumped into me, the bass being joined by a guitar and an angry vocal the higher we went. My curiosity turned into a wince as I realized that the aggressive music was coming from the apartment that Nakita had stopped in front of. C3, corner apartment, top floor. It went without saying that Tammy’s mom was probably not home.
Suddenly unsure, I wiped my hands on my jeans. I didn’t have a clue what I could say that wouldn’t sound crazy. I didn’t care if I sounded crazy at this point. The memory of the two of them dying was too awful to risk becoming true.
“Well?” Nakita prompted.
“This is a bad plan,” Barnabas said, but he leaned past me, ringing the bell and knocking on the varnished door.
Plan? Who said anything about a plan? I don’t even have a plan! I thought in panic as a dog began to yap wildly, and the thin strip of light coming from under the door was eclipsed by frantic little paws. From behind the door came a kid’s voice telling the dog to shut up, and then, with a burst of music, the door opened.
“Yeah?” Johnny said, hardly looking up from his handheld game as Seether’s “Fake It” blasted. With one foot, he shoved the little yellow dog back. He was still dressed in his school clothes, and the polo shirt and black Dockers looked out of place in the untidy living room behind him with its dirty dishes on the coffee table. The adjoining dining room wasn’t much better, the table covered in what looked like college textbooks. To the right was the open kitchen, just off the narrow entryway. I blanched at the memory of the room in flame, and my eyes went to the ceiling, recalling the beautiful, deadly curls of gold and black and the searing heat in my lungs as Johnny died in my arms.
Tonight? I wondered, scared. It had to be. The vision had been very clear.
“Is your sister here?” Barnabas finally said, since I was lost in the horror of the memory.
Still playing his game, Johnny dropped back. “Tammy!” he shouted over the music. “Your friends are here!” Head down, he walked to his room off to the left. From the kitchen, the phone began to ring. The dog, too, was still barking. Not knowing what to do, we all stood in the doorway.
“Come on in,” Johnny said, walking backward and killing ninjas at the same time, and then louder called, “Tammy!” Without looking up, he edged into his room and shoved the door closed.
I looked at the two of them, and then the empty room. “Should we go in?”
Barnabas pushed forward. “I would,” he said, positioning himself just over the threshold. “Otherwise as soon as she sees us, she’s going to slam the door in our faces.”
“Have some faith, Barnabas,” I said as I followed Nakita in and stood with my feet just on the linoleum that marked the beginning of the kitchen.
“I have lots of faith,” the fallen angel said as he crouched and coaxed the dog closer. “I have faith that this is a bad idea. She’s not going to believe you. She’s going to think we’re nuts. She’s going to call the police unless she has a record, and if she does, she’ll run away.”
I frowned, glancing at the front door. It didn’t seem right to shut it.
&nbs
p; Nakita shifted to stand even deeper in the kitchen, positioning herself so she could see the entire main room. “There’s a lot of noise in here,” she said, looking at the phone, still ringing.
Maybe a fried stereo would be what started the fire. I was starting to wonder how these two had survived even this long when from a back bedroom came a frustrated, “I said, would you get that, Johnny?”
The volume of the music suddenly halved. Three seconds later, the door across the living room from Johnny’s was yanked open and Tammy strode out, her hair swinging as she stomped into the living room and started throwing couch pillows as she looked for the phone.
“Where’s the friggin’ phone?” she muttered, snatching it up. Her eyes were narrowed and she looked mad. Spinning, she jerked to a stop as she saw us all standing in the kitchen, Barnabas still crouched as he rubbed the ears of the little dog. The phone in her hand rang again, seeming to jerk her out of her surprise.
“Oh, no,” she said, recognizing me. “Get out!” she shouted, waving her arm at me. “Johnny! You’re not supposed to let anyone in!”
“It’s for you!” came his hidden voice. “I’m not your stupid secretary.”
Expression dark, she started for us, halting as she realized how vulnerable she was. Holding the phone like a weapon, she snapped, “Get out,” before thumbing the phone line open.
“Hello?” she said, watching us stand there. “I’m sorry, Mr. Tambu. Johnny turned it up when I was in the bathroom. It’s down now.” She frowned. “I said I’m sorry!” she said, then hung up on him. Shaking, she faced us. “I told you to get out!” she said loudly, but she looked scared, making me wonder why she hadn’t told her neighbor we were up here.
“Tammy, just listen,” I said, thinking that leaving the door open might have helped. “We’re not going to hurt you. You’re in trouble.”
“I’m in trouble?” Tammy pointed the phone at us. “I’m not the one breaking and entering! Get the hell out or I’m calling the police!”
But she hadn’t yet, so I didn’t think she would. From her room the music shifted to something darker, more dangerous.
Barnabas stood up from petting the dog, looking calm and casual, like the lead singer in a boy band. “It will take them forty minutes to get here,” he said, his voice soothing, beautiful. “If you listen to us, we’ll leave in three.”
Tammy swallowed and Nakita rolled her eyes at the effect he had on her. “Who are you?” she asked him. “You weren’t on the bus.”
“Barnabas.” He smiled, and I almost groaned as he charmed her. Good grief, he was better at this than Nakita and me put together, and yet he still harbored doubts we could make a difference.
Nakita edged forward. “We’re trying to help. Your soul is safe, but not your life.”
Tammy’s expression immediately shifted back to mistrust.
“Nakita!” I all but hissed at her. “Will you shut up about souls! Everyone thinks we’re nuts when you talk about souls like they’re as common as TVs.”
She looked at me innocently. “But they are.”
“That doesn’t mean we talk about them!” I said, exasperated.
Tammy was eyeing us between glances at the door, the phone still in her hand. “Did my mom send you? Is this her perverted way of checking up on me?” she asked. “God! It’s like a police state around here. You can tell her to stay out of my life! I’m not a baby!”
Her mom? I wish. “Your mom doesn’t know we’re here,” I said, thinking it would help.
Barnabas threw the dog’s toy, and the little thing tore after it. “Is that Soap Scum?” he asked, and I stared until I realized he was talking about the music.
“Yeah,” Tammy said, losing her aggressive stance again. “You’ve heard of them?”
He smiled. “I saw them in concert in Chicago, right before the drummer died from a heart attack.”
Nakita snorted. “Did you mess up his scythe prevention, too?”
Barnabas frowned, taking the dog’s toy as the animal jumped at his knees. “No. I was there for one of the kids in the audience.”
“Scythe prevention?” Tammy whispered. She looked at the phone in her hand and took a step back. “What are you guys trying to be? Grim reapers?”
“No,” Nakita said before I could tell her to shut up. “We’re dark reapers.” She hesitated, then added, “I think. Madison, if we’re trying to save lives, then are we technically light?”
“No,” I said, worried about Tammy’s expression. This was going sour fast. There were too many people mucking it up, and I couldn’t get to why I was here. “Tammy, two minutes,” I said. “That’s it. You listen for two minutes, and we’ll leave. I know this looks weird, but we’re trying to help. If you don’t listen to me, you’re going to die tonight. Johnny, too.”
Her expression blanched, and Barnabas leaned toward me. “Uh, that might not have been the best thing to say,” he whispered.
Tammy gestured violently. “Get out!” she shouted. “Get out, or I’m calling the cops!”
She was frantic, and I stumbled when Barnabas took my shoulder and drew me back.
“Tammy, there’s a fire!” I said loudly, not caring if I sounded crazy or not. The horror had been too real. “I watched you both die. You need to leave tonight. Just go somewhere else! Anywhere!”
“And you think me talking about souls makes us sound crazy,” Nakita said.
“Get out!”
Tammy was screaming, and Johnny had opened his door, staring at us with one eye through the crack.
“I told you this wouldn’t work,” Barnabas said, his grip on my elbow tightening as he pulled me back another step.
“Okay, okay!” I said, scrambling. We were backing up past the fridge, and I grabbed the little sticky note from it that had a grocery list on it. The little pencil tied to it swung, and I caught it. “I’m going to give you a number,” I said, writing it down. “Call this guy, okay? His name is Shoe. He’s in Iowa. I helped him last month. Well, I helped his buddy Ace, but Ace is in a mental institution right now, so you’re going to have to talk to Shoe.” You can shut up anytime now, Madison.
“You’re just like friggin’ Mary Poppins, huh?” Tammy said sarcastically, clearly feeling braver now that we were backing toward the door.
“Just call him,” I said. “He was going to be accused of killing three people when his friend dumped a computer virus he made into a hospital system and screwed it up. We managed to fix that. We’re trying to help, Tammy!”
She stood with her arms crossed, phone tucked against her. “You’re crazy.”
I bumped into Nakita, and the warmth of the hall soaked into me. “Just call him, okay? And here’s my cell number. Call me when you want to talk.”
“One way or another, she’s not going to be alive when the sun comes up,” Nakita said dryly, and I took a deep breath, feeling my heels scuff on the carpet in the hall.
“Call Shoe,” I said, throwing the pad of paper to the floor between us. “Find out I’m not crazy. Or don’t call him, I don’t care. Just don’t be here tonight. You or Johnny. I know he’s a pain, but take him with you when you go to the movies, or ice cream, or whatever. Just don’t be here! You’ve got to believe me, Tammy! There’s going to be a fire!”
She had come forward, more confident now that we were in the hall. Johnny was wide-eyed behind her, and the dog was wagging his tail, toy in his mouth. Tammy glared at us, but it was Johnny who picked up the piece of paper with the phone number. With a shove, she slammed the door shut in our faces. The thump echoed in the hallway. From inside, the music grew louder.
“That went well,” Barnabas said glumly, his hands in his pockets.
Chapter Five
Closing my phone, I tucked it away, having texted CUL8R, THX to Josh after his message that he was on his way to bed but wanted to give it another thirty minutes before trying to sneak out. I glanced at Barnabas sitting next to me between the outside wall of the Laundromat and the Dumpster.
If it was nine here, it was eleven at home. I had an hour before my curfew. I didn’t know when the fire was going to start, but Tammy had been outside of the apartment in my first flash, so it was likely going to happen sometime between nine and midnight, local time. It’d be just my luck that the fire would start when I was convincing my dad I was going to bed.
Right now, Tammy and Johnny were out. Barnabas and I were watching to make sure it stayed that way.
Across the street, the apartment complex had come alive with lights and the sound of too many TVs. From the Laundromat, we had watched the cop car, which Tammy had called, leave about an hour ago. It had taken them almost three hours to show up and forty minutes to leave, both cops laughing at Tammy’s story as they got in their vehicle and drove away, which was really sad because three crazy people had been in her house uninvited, and they weren’t taking her seriously. Tammy and Johnny had left right after the cops, Johnny whining as she dragged him down the sidewalk as the sun went down, looking scared as she got into her friend Jennifer’s dented two-door. I should’ve felt relieved that she’d taken my advice and left, but the fear that they might come back had me tense and worried.
It was dark now, the lights from the cars between us and the apartment complex creating moving spots of clarity in an otherwise depressing night. Nakita was out doing a flyby of the area. My back was to the red bricks, and my knees were bent almost to my chin as I swung my amulet on its silver chain, idly concentrating on it to shift its form. It was a skill that Nakita had taught me.
I miss Josh. “Barnabas,” I said softly, feeling alone though he sat right next to me. “You have a soul. How can you not?”
He was silent, watching as I played with the glittery black stone safely encased in its wrapping of wire. I focused on it, modulating the light bending around it until it looked like a little silver cross with a black stone in the center.
“You are the best of us,” I said, looking at my amulet. I was pleased with the result, though it still felt like an oval, river-washed stone to my fingers. “Unflawed and beautiful. You have to have a soul.”