by Kim Harrison
He thought about that, glancing at the approaching reapers. “Tell me who you’re going to scythe,” he demanded before they got close enough to hear. “Maybe then I’ll believe you.”
“I won’t betray Nakita,” I said softly over the hissing rain. “She’s my friend.”
“It would be easier if you did.”
The sound of Barnabas’s steps grew close, and I backed up to make room for him. Nakita had her purse, swinging it as if she wanted to use it like a hammer. I knew I looked flustered, and when Barnabas saw my empty hands—and realized that Paul had his sword back—he sighed. “Madison,” he complained.
Clearly we weren’t going to get anywhere new, and just wanting Paul to go, I said, “Paul was just leaving,” then turned to him. “Right?”
Barnabas muttered, “You’d better call Ron, then. I’m not flying him home.”
“I don’t need to be flown home,” Paul said, and with a sly arching of his eyebrows, he sort of slid sideways and vanished in a shimmering line of black.
“Holy crap!” I exclaimed, dropping back in shock. “I can’t do that!” I spun to Barnabas and Nakita. “How come I can’t do that?” Jeez, he could have left anytime after he’d gotten his sword back. Why hadn’t he?
“You can,” Nakita said, quickly recovering.
“You just don’t know how,” Barnabas added.
Grace made a sharp sound of surprise. “I got it, I got it!” she cried. “My name is Grace, from heavenly space. I’m watching Paul, whose ass has hauled. I gotta make haste.” And in that same sort of sliding sideways light, she vanished.
Peeved, I tucked my amulet behind my damp shirt in disgust. “Don’t these things come with a manual?” I grumbled. One good thing had come out of this, though: If Grace was watching Paul, she wasn’t watching me.
Barnabas shivered, his wings appearing to glow in the streetlight. “We’re leaving?” I guessed, and Barnabas nodded, his wings arching to cover me. “What about my dad?”
No one said anything, and I turned to Nakita, seeing her lips pursed. My thoughts went back to them arguing as they left my house. “What about my dad?” I asked again, louder.
Barnabas took my arm and drew me closer. “He’s on the couch, watching TV.”
He smelled like wet feathers, and I pushed his hand off me. “What did you do to my dad?” I accused, and he flushed.
“Nothing!” he exclaimed. “Come on. I can dry you on the way.” I didn’t move, and he shot Nakita a look to shut up when she took a breath. “Okay, okay,” he added. “I simply gave him a memory that you’re in bed already. I’m not leaving you and Nakita here, and I can’t leave Shoe for much longer. Your dad will be fine. Can we get through the clouds and above the rain, please?”
From the shadows, a dark-winged Nakita grumbled that she could have done a better job of handling my dad.
Standing there with the rain misting my face, I wondered if Paul was right. I could have given him Shoe’s name, and then it would have been over. Except Shoe would spend the rest of his charmed life causing mayhem. And more important, I would have betrayed Nakita’s trust.
Hesitating, I looked at Barnabas. The rain dripped from the ends of his flattened hair as he silently waited, a question in his pinched brow. With a sudden flash of clarity, I realized he had intentionally drawn Nakita into the house so I could do just that. He had given me the opportunity to tell Paul who we were after.
And when I smiled at him and shook my head, he seemed to relax. He hadn’t wanted me to, but he’d given me the chance. Somehow, that made me feel good. Like I’d finally done something right.
Nakita looked from me to him and back again, knowing something unsaid had crossed between us, but not what. “Are we going?” she asked slowly.
“Absolutely,” I said, and Nakita smiled. I believed in choice, but giving Shoe a guardian angel wasn’t choice. It was a copout.
Seven
I was glad my body wasn’t real as I crouched outside Shoe’s window, because my knees would be aching right about now. I straightened, shifting to stand beside the window and get a glimpse of his tidy bed. Beside me, Barnabas watched Shoe, his brown eyes unblinking. Nakita was wandering about the front yard, snapping pictures of leaves, trees, and a crack in the sidewalk, making me nervous even though she had the flash off. At least it wasn’t raining here. Small favors.
While airborne, I had dried to a sort of sticky moistness, and I envied Barnabas’s ability to somehow dry completely. Nakita, too, was arid in her jeans and sandals, her fingernails now matching her toes in their pearly pinkness. She’d finished painting them just moments before, bored with it all.
“Can’t we just go and talk to him?” I whispered when Nakita ranged close again, taking a picture of what looked like nothing. I was tired of this skulking about. I mean, this was the guy I was supposed to save, and I hadn’t even talked to him yet. I had two reapers to help me, but one was distracted by her new toy, and the other was too entrenched in age-old protocol to try anything new.
“Just a minute more,” Barnabas said for about the sixth time. “I want to see what he’s doing.”
From the shadows, Nakita looked at the back of her camera, the glow lighting her face as she grumbled, “He’s a human, killing time. Time to kill the human.”
Barnabas scowled at her from under his mop of curls, and I sighed.
I didn’t like spying, and I stood between the bushes and the siding, thinking about bugs as I pushed my damp hair behind my ear and looked out over the dark yard. The neighborhood was a nice one—nicer than mine—and I wondered why a guy who had everything felt the need to take everything away from someone else.
The stars showed sharp past the outlines of roofs, and I worried that Ron might show up. Barnabas or Nakita had been hiding my amulet’s resonance since we’d left my backyard. I probably should invest some time into learning how to do it myself. I didn’t like relying on Barnabas or Nakita.
A burst of keyboard clatter drew my attention, and I peeked around the edge of the window to see Shoe still hunched at his computer. The guy’s room was boring, with pale white walls and gray carpet that looked like it belonged in a doctor’s office. His desk was scary-clean. Everything was on a shelf or tucked in a drawer. There were no clothes or clutter lying around. Even his bed was made. Apart from the Harvard banner, the only color was Ace’s artwork. There were several music CDs on the tidy desk, and one big picture of swirling eagles with vicious talons taped to the closet door. Maybe his mother had a thing about thumbtacks in the wall. His music was boring, and I fiddled with the tips of my purple hair as the New Age nothing made me sleepy. Me, sleepy…and I hadn’t had a good nap since I’d died.
“This is what you do on a reap?” I said, glancing down at Barnabas. “Spy on people?”
“I spot ’em and stick ’em,” Nakita said, rustling the bushes as she came closer.
Eyes never leaving Shoe, Barnabas slid over to make room for her. “It’s a reap prevention, not a reap,” he said softly. “I’m not sure what to do, and there’s nothing wrong with watching until we get an idea.”
A soft sound, almost a growl, slipped from Nakita as she put her back to the house. “There are a hundred possible accidents in that room,” she said. “I can make it look as if his power cord frayed and he electrocuted himself.”
“No!” both Barnabas and I exclaimed softly.
Shoe looked up from his keyboard, hearing us maybe. I dropped back and Barnabas dragged Nakita off to the other side. The sleepy music grew louder, but it wasn’t until the clack of keys resumed that we relaxed and looked around the window again.
“You are not going to kill him!” Barnabas said, and she put her camera in her purse, frowning as she zipped it up.
“You have no idea how good I’m being,” Nakita whispered, watching Shoe hit the print button, then lean to catch the paper as it shot out. “Chronos could have followed us here. If I get one whiff of him, I swear, I’m going to kill him.”
Who, Ron or Shoe? I thought, eyeing Shoe. The guy was a total geek, but that didn’t make him scythe-worthy. What the seraphs claimed just didn’t fit with what I’d seen tonight. I’d watched him help his younger brother with a handheld game earlier, and he hadn’t taken it away to show him what to do—instead, he walked the ten-year-old through the problem.
“I’d like to see you try,” Barnabas said, not shifting his gaze from Shoe’s room.
Nakita huffed, and I rolled my eyes. Not again… “You can’t stop me,” she said haughtily, a little too loudly for my liking. “This is what we do. Get used to it or leave. You’re the new angel here. Not me.”
Barnabas turned, his expression peeved. “That’s a good idea,” he said sourly. “Kill Shoe and blow to stardust Madison’s chance to do things her way.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Ron could be watching us right now. I’m not going to let him put a guardian angel on Shoe!”
Oh, ma-a-a-an. They were going to make enough noise to bring Shoe to the window. It wasn’t the introduction I really wanted. “Actually,” I said before Barnabas could come back with anything, “Nakita has a valid concern.”
The leaves rustled, and Barnabas turned to me. “What?”
Not meeting his eyes, I looked up at Nakita. “Why don’t you make a couple of circles to make sure Ron or Paul isn’t watching us?”
Barnabas hid his smile a shade too late. Nakita saw it, and she stiffened. “You’re getting rid of me,” she accused.
“Well, yeah,” I said, not wanting to lie to her. She’d been lied to enough. “But you’re right. Someone should keep watch. I pick you.”
Her brow furrowed, and as her eyes shifted to silver for an instant, she said, “Fine,” and stalked away.
I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck in a show of nervous relief as she found her wings, and, with a downward thrust that sent grass clippings flying, she put herself in the air.
Barnabas stood and stretched. “Does ‘fine’ mean the same thing when Nakita says it as when you do?”
“Yup.” Glancing back at Shoe, I felt a moment of uselessness. “He’s just filling out college applications. Barnabas, Shoe is as exciting as oatmeal. Are you sure we’re watching the right person? Even if he is a computer genius, he doesn’t seem the kind of guy who’s after anonymous notoriety by killing people.”
Barnabas eased closer, and the scent of the back side of the clouds slid over me. “Think so?” he whispered. “He’s bringing up a hidden folder.”
Suddenly a lot more interested, I looked in to find Shoe still sitting at his computer. Squinting, I read, operation vacation, at the top of the new window. “Sounds innocuous enough,” I said softly.
Barnabas rumbled deep in his chest, shifting his weight to his other foot. “Remember what Grace said? The school’s computer is infected first. Vacation? As in shutting down the school and gaining a day or two off?”
Ooooooh, not good. Still, I wasn’t convinced, even as Shoe popped one of Ace’s decorated CDs into the laptop. “I’ve got to talk to him. Now.”
Barnabas turned to me with wide eyes. “Did you see that?” he asked. “The disc had a black wing on it!”
He looked shocked, and I waved a hand in dismissal. “Sorry. I meant to tell you. It’s Ace,” I said, sending my gaze back into the gray and white bedroom. “He’s an artist. Isn’t it creepy? He got the idea for the melting crow from Shoe.”
“‘Creepy’ is not the word I’d use,” Barnabas grumped, resettling himself.
I watched as Shoe leaned back in his chair as the disc burned. Why he didn’t put it on a jump drive escaped me. Maybe he was going to sneak it into school disguised as music?
Why am I still sitting here? I asked myself suddenly. He was loading the virus. What did I need to see him do? Plug it in? “I’m going to talk to him,” I said, gathering myself and pushing through the bushes to get to the front yard.
The branches scraped against my arms, and I halted when a pair of headlights lit the quiet street. They looked…blue. Not the headlights themselves, but the light.
“Hold up,” Barnabas whispered as he pushed out to stand beside me, but I felt dizzy and I had already stopped, squinting when the headlights resolved into Ace’s truck parked on the street. His loud music cut off three seconds after the engine did, and his door made a hard slam of sound. Footsteps soft, his shadowy form came around the front of the truck and headed for the walk.
“Ace,” I said, holding my stomach. I felt queasy. We couldn’t see the front door from where we were, but it was easy enough to follow his fast pace up the walk and then hear the cheerful dinging of the doorbell.
From Shoe’s room came a muttered curse. Barnabas drew me behind a tree, and together we watched Shoe fidget, standing before his computer and almost falling when he tried to put on his shoes. “Hurry up!” he muttered as the drive still hummed. My eyes weren’t working right, and I blinked, trying to get the haze of blue out of them. Glancing down at my amulet, I wondered if the silver mesh cradling it looked blue, too, or if it was my imagination.
Barnabas tightened his grip on my arm. “We have to go,” he said, eyes on the window.
“Why?” I asked, trying to shake a new buzzing from my ears.
He turned to me, his brown eyes holding a bothered impatience. “Because I think Shoe is going to come out the window as soon as that computer finishes.”
Sure enough, Shoe had a black hoodie on, and was standing at the screen and fiddling with the little clips that held it in place. From outside, I could hear his mom at the door, inviting Ace in. Grimacing, I ducked behind the tree and out of sight.
The sound of wind among feathers brought our attention up, and I wasn’t surprised to see Nakita lightly land on the roof. “Stay there!” Barnabas all but hissed at her, and the dark reaper grinned at him, making me shiver at her fierce expression. My eyes widened when she flipped him off, then jumped back into the air so she could follow Shoe, who was clearly going to go AWOL.
From inside, I heard Shoe’s mom call for him. This was going to get ugly really fast.
“Does Nakita even know what that means?” I asked, putting a hand to my chest. Why isn’t my heart beating? It always beats when I get nervous.
Barnabas pulled me back behind the tree. “I don’t think so,” he said, and I blinked up at him. His eyes were all silver. “We’ve got to go.”
Everything is turning blue, I thought. I felt numb, indistinct.
Shoe finally got the screen off, and it scraped the window as he tucked it outside. His curtains fluttered as he closed them to hide the open window.
“We have to get out of here,” Barnabas said, and he darted off across the grass.
I took a breath and pushed myself into motion. If not for the wind against my face, I wouldn’t have been able to tell I was even moving. It was like a dream where you run and run, and you never go anywhere.
“Madison!” Barnabas called from the sidewalk, and I stopped. Blinking, I looked down. I was still beside the tree. Wait a moment. I knew I had run…somewhere.
“Madison, let’s go!” Barnabas repeated, and I wavered. “He’s going to come out!”
“I don’t feel so good,” I said, squinting at him.
And then the light from the street suddenly went entirely blue. Like ink falling into a glass of water, it poured from the middle, hitting the ground and rebounding against the sides of the beam of light, white and blue swirling until it was all one color.
Oh, this can’t be good.
“Ummm,” I breathed as Barnabas jogged back and took my arm. “I think I’m in trouble,” I said. Then my knees gave way, and I collapsed.
“Madison!”
Head lolling, I felt Barnabas catch me. “Gabriel’s pearly toes,” he muttered, and I opened my eyes. His face was glowing like you see in the movies, with a white smudginess. And I could see his wings. Reaching out, I tried to touch them, finding they were only in my vision, not real. He looked like the angel
he was, fallen from grace. He was the only real thing left. Everything else was blue, sliding together into one monotone color of existence.
“Barnabas,” I whispered, needing a huge breath to do it. “Something is wrong.”
“You think?” he said, sounding panicked as he lifted me up into his arms. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt?”
My gaze fell on my amulet, and I stared in wonder. It was absolutely black. No, it was a violet so deep that it only looked black. With a sudden understanding, I realized it had gone ultraviolet, the color falling off the visible spectrum.
My head lolled up, and I gasped as I saw the stars. They were rainbows of noncolors. I could see all the wavelengths blaring from them, and I started to cry. It was too much. I was only human. I wasn’t supposed to see all of this, to even know such colors existed.
“Madison!”
Barnabas turned my face from the heavens, and, sobbing, I gripped him as if he were the only thing real. “Something is…wrong,” I stammered. I wanted to look again, but couldn’t bear it.
“I’ll find Ron,” Barnabas said. His voice was grim, and though a wave of dizziness hit me, I focused on him.
“No,” I breathed, then louder, “No! Just don’t let me look at the stars.” I was crying, and I could see waves of blue coming from me, bouncing into him like waves on a beach. “Don’t let me look at the stars…” I whispered. And as Barnabas panicked, I felt my mind expand.
Like blowing out a flame, he dissolved into a blue puff of smoke and vanished. That fast, I was alone, and all that held me sane was the glow of his aura beside mine as I found myself entirely within the fabric of time.
Eight
Where the devil am I? I thought, watching my fingers move as if through a blue haze as I grabbed the back of a rolling chair and swung it to face the computer before me. Holy cow, I’m in Shoe’s room! And those don’t actually look like my fingers….