by Kim Harrison
“I’ve made that my trademark,” Ace was saying, and I dragged my attention back to him.
“The crows?” I said, stifling a shiver. “Where did you get the idea to make them melt like that?”
His jaw clenched. “Shoe.”
Back to Shoe. It looked like Barnabas was right: Shoe was our target, not Ace.
Ace took one hand off the wheel and looked at Nakita. “You don’t talk much.”
“I don’t see the point when actions are more convincing,” she said stiffly, behaving completely at odds to that giggle earlier.
Nodding his head like she’d said something wise, Ace said, “Me too.”
I had to get back to Shoe. Barnabas had been right. “Hey, I’m sorry about your friend,” I said hesitantly, trying to turn the conversation to him.
Ace made a huff of sound. “He’s an ass. I’ve known him since third grade, and he’s always been an ass. Nothing here is ever good enough for him. He’s always after the big city and a ‘better life.’ What’s wrong with just staying here and being normal?”
“He’s the hacker?” I asked. “You do the artwork, and he gets the stuff?”
Ace stared straight ahead, his speed never changing. “Yup,” he said sarcastically. “I’m just the guy who makes it look cool. He’s going off to college at the end of this year. Between filling out applications and prepping for the skills test, I only see him at work.”
Ohhh, he’s jealous. Feeling ditched. It might be the wrong time, but we were going to run out of cornfields eventually. I didn’t want to spend the day with Ace when it was Shoe who was in danger. “Uh, do you think you could take us to Shoe’s house?” I asked, and Ace leaned forward past Nakita to see me.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Ace said in disgust. “This is to get to him, isn’t it? You girls are all the same. You see a fancy car and you think I’m dirt.”
“No!” I exclaimed, my pulse jumping into play. Sensing it, Nakita looked at me. “Ace, Shoe is in danger,” I said, and seeing his anger, I blurted, “I know all about the virus he wants to upload to the school. It’s going to kill people.”
The truck swerved and Ace looked at me, shocked.
“Watch the road!” I shouted as I remembered going into the ravine. My hand slammed against the dash. But he wasn’t listening to me.
“Computer viruses don’t kill people,” he said, angry. “How did you find out about it? Did he tell you? Did Shoe tell you, and then get mad at me for telling you about some stupid music we lifted?”
His voice hurt my ears, and I glanced from him to the road, glad no one was coming. “He didn’t tell me,” I said. “It’s my job to know stuff.”
Ace laughed, but I breathed easier when he looked back at the road. Nakita sat still between us, fingering her amulet and staying out of it, but her frown told me she thought I was making a mistake.
“It’s your job, huh? And who are you, silent girl? Her muscle?”
Nakita dropped her hand to steady her little purse on her knees. “Yes.”
He laughed bitterly again, shaking his head as he muttered, “I’m a crazy-chick magnet. Crazy-freaking-chick magnet.”
A flush of anger lit through me. “I don’t care if you believe me or not,” I said sharply, “but that virus is going to escape the school and get into the hospital. People are going to die.” I shifted my tone, pleading. “You’ve got to help me convince Shoe not to do it. He won’t listen to me, but you’re his friend.”
Ace looked at me, his eyes holding a heady anger. “Screw you,” he said suddenly. “And screw Shoe. Why should I give a crap about him?”
Frustrated, I let go of the dash. Shoe was going to college, and Ace wasn’t. He was afraid he wasn’t good enough to keep up, and it was easier to hate Shoe than try and maybe fail.
“We’re not going to Shoe’s?” Nakita asked.
“I’d sooner go to hell,” Ace said, and Nakita moved.
“Hey!” Ace shouted as Nakita suddenly turned in her seat and grabbed his shirt.
“You are not going to hell. You are going to take us to Shoe’s house,” she demanded, and the truck swerved.
“Nakita! Let go!” I shouted as we crossed the yellow line, then swerved back, our tires going right off the road.
“Let go of me, you crazy chick!” Ace shouted, one wheel still off the road as we continued at a fast sixty miles an hour. Slowly he brought us back on the pavement, and only after all four wheels were on the road did he use his brakes and we lurched to a stop.
“Get out!” Ace was shouting. “Get out of my truck, you freaks!”
I was more than ready to, and I shoved the door open and slid onto the hot pavement. I was shaking, sick almost, at the reminder of the car accident that had killed me.
“I told you to take us to Shoe,” Nakita said from inside the truck.
“And I told you to get out!” Her purse sailed into the air, landing by my feet. “I’ve never hit a girl, but you’re pushing it, babe. Why is it that the sexy ones are all nuts?”
Babe? Had he really called herbabe?
Nakita was ready to lose it, and I reached in to pull on her arm. “Come on, let’s go.”
I yanked her out right as Ace hit the gas, accelerating with his tires hiccuping on the pavement. The door wasn’t even shut.
“Crazy chicks!” he shouted, leaving a pall of oil smoke and the fading sound of his engine.
Nakita stood beside me, shaking in anger. “I am not crazy,” she said as she scooped up her empty little red purse, and I silently agreed with her. The sound of Ace’s truck quickly faded, and I looked up and down the deserted road, wondering where Barnabas was.
“That didn’t work out the way I wanted,” I said, starting to walk in the direction Ace had gone. The town couldn’t be too far ahead.
Nakita fixed her sandal, then started to follow, click, click, click on the hot pavement. “You told him too much. Marks never believe. That’s why we scythe them.”
There was a silent accusation in her tone that I was being stupid even to try to change several thousand years of tradition. Pensive, I watched the straight rows of tall corn slowly shift as we walked. At least Barnabas was watching the right person.
“Shouldn’t we find Barnabas?” Nakita asked, looking unsure at my continued silence. “I tried calling him when I was in Ace’s truck and couldn’t reach him. He’s not dark enough yet. You might be able to get a hold of him, though.”
“Me?” I squawked, embarrassed even though she already knew about the weeks of failure when Barnabas and I had sat on my roof and tried. “My amulet is too far from his, too. Light reaper, dark timekeeper…You know,” I said, glad I had my phone. If worse came to worst, I’d call my dad and tell him I was doing something with Josh. He’d cover for me. I shouldn’t have told Ace all that. No wonder he thinks we’re nuts. I’d think we were nuts.
Nakita’s steps became silent as she walked straight down the middle of the road, following the broken yellow line. “Barnabas’s amulet resonance was the red of a light reaper the last time you tried,” she said, and I glanced over at her, thinking we looked quite the pair. “It’s shifted to a grim reaper’s neutral green since then. I can’t reach him, but your timekeeper amulet is more fluid than mine, and he’s the one you’ve been practicing with. I can hear his amulet resonating in the ether, so he hasn’t shielded himself yet. I can carry you, but it would be easier to find Barnabas if we knew exactly where he was.”
I sighed, my hand going up to touch my amulet. Every time I tried to use it, either nothing happened or I made a mistake.
“What will you lose by trying?” Nakita coaxed. “Barnabas should know what happened. For all his insufferable know-it-all attitude, he’s part of our…team.”
She had said that last word like it tasted bad, and a slight smile brightened my mood. She was trying. “Okay,” I said agreeably, “but if I can’t reach him, we’ll find him by air.”
She nodded, and I felt a quiver of anticip
ation. It would be great if I could do this. My amulet was the same deep, glittery black that it had been since I claimed it, but Barnabas’s had shifted down the spectrum. Nakita was right: It just might be possible.
Excited, I turned to the tall cornfields, then the empty road—listening to the sound of the wind. Either nothing would happen, or I’d make it work. It wasn’t as if I didn’t know the theory inside and out after countless nights on my roof trying. Stopping, I sat right down on the edge of the road, shifting until the pebbles didn’t grind into my ankles.
Nakita understandably stared at me.
“I’m not good at it,” I explained, embarrassed. “I need to sit down.” Closing my eyes, I took three slow breaths—my way of inducing a feeling of calm. My shoulders eased, and I exhaled.
In my mind’s eye, I tried to imagine my aura. It wasn’t really my aura, since I was dead, but the amulet’s resonance acted the same way. Because I had the dark timekeeper amulet, my aura or resonance was a violet so dark as to be off the visible spectrum and basically black. Eyes shut, I reached up to hold the glittery black stone cradled in a silver wire and looped around my neck with a simple cord. As long as I had it within twenty feet of me, I had the illusion of a body. If I got too far from it, black wings would sense me and swarm to eat my soul—twenty measly feet between me and utter death. It looked a lot like a reaper amulet, but it was more powerful and yet—as Nakita had said—more flexible. Claiming it from my predecessor hadn’t blown my soul to dust like my trying to claim a reaper’s amulet would have. Most people didn’t even see it unless I pointed it out. I could take it off, but I was reluctant to do so.
The silver wires cradling the stone were warm, but the stone was warmer, as if holding the heat of the sun. All I had to do, in theory, was imagine my thoughts taking on the same color or wavelength as my aura so it could slip free of me. Then I had to hold my thoughts as I shifted the color to match Barnabas’s aura so my thoughts could slip through his aura and he could hear it. His resonance was green now. It shouldn’t be as hard as trying to shift all the way up the spectrum. Maybe I could do it. Maybe.
I brought Barnabas to mind, his smile, his dark humor, his odd way of looking at the world, the age behind his brown eyes, and how they flashed silver when he touched the divine. Barnabas, I thought, shifting my thoughts as “violet” as I could to get them past my aura. Nakita and I are kind of stuck here on the road.
A thrill lit through me as I felt my thoughts wing out from me to bounce against the inside of the sphere of air that surrounded the earth. But then, my entire thought seemed to explode in a bright light. Shocked, I opened my eyes and blinked.
“I felt them leave you,” Nakita said, smiling. “But they scattered when they diffracted against the sun. You need to modify your thoughts to his aura before they bounce off the atmosphere, not after.”
She felt it, I thought, stifling a quiver of anticipation. Barnabas had never said that when we practiced. I shifted awkwardly on the pavement to disguise my shiver, thinking this would look stupid to anyone driving by. Not that we’d seen anyone on the road yet. This was the closest I’d ever gotten to making this work. Nakita had been able to teach me how to bend light around my amulet to hide it, too. Maybe Nakita, for all her awkward inabilities among people, was the better teacher. And wouldn’t Barnabas be happy about that?
“Let me try again,” I whispered, closing my eyes and calming my thoughts to get them past my aura resonance, and then thinking with a precise narrowness, Barnabas, we’re stuck on the road. Can you find us?
“Now!” Nakita exclaimed, and I twisted my thought, making the wave wider, more green, perhaps. It hit the curve of the atmosphere and bounced back, being drawn into something as if it belonged. Barnabas, maybe?
Stiffening, I gasped when I got a flash of feeling, like a memory belonging to someone else. It was as if I were seeing from Barnabas’s eyes as he sat in some bushes across the street from a nice house, and he jumped as my thought popped into his mind. Then he was gone, and I was surrounded by sand and squinting from the sun. I was wearing a white shirt billowing in the oppressively dry wind. A young man with black eyes sat across from me working on a laptop, his clothes as white and billowy as mine. Someone swore as my thought echoed in his, and I opened my eyes, finding myself back on the road in the middle of the cornfields.
Ohhhh, this can’t be good.
Nakita was crouched before me, a hand on my shoulder, concern in her eyes, and her black hair falling about her face. “Madison? Are you all right?”
Squinting, I held out my hand and she took it, backing up to help me stand. I looked down at my sneakers and brushed off my tights. A bad feeling was growing in me, and when she saw my expression, I sensed Nakita’s worry shift to alarm.
“How fast can you fly?” I asked, and she stared at me as if I were nuts.
“Why?” she asked, and I looked at the sky, wincing.
“Because I think I just told Ron we’re up to something.”
Four
Nakita stood beside me in her designer jeans and trendy sandals, her black toenails catching a glint of sun. Her eyes darted from the sky to the rustling fields on both sides of us. Her amulet was blazing a violet that sent purple flashes of light against the darker shadows in the corn. Hair swinging, she spun in a circle, scanning the sky.
“Barnabas, where are you?” she said, and I shivered. Gone was the hesitancy, the awkwardness. She was an avenging angel, and nothing would get past her. “Perhaps we should leave without him. I’m hiding your amulet signature, but if Barnabas can follow the echo of your thought here, then Chronos can, too.”
I didn’t move, listening to the wind rattle the papery leaves and scanning the heavens and my aura for any prickling of energy. Damn it, if Ron knew we were here, it would make everything more difficult.
“Barnabas,” Nakita breathed as she fixed on something I couldn’t see, and I had a thought that it was probably the first time she’d been glad to see him.
My own shoulders eased, but I still felt queasy as I remembered being in Ron’s head. It had to have been him. If I could reach his thoughts, then he could reach mine. And who was the guy with him? His replacement? My future adversary?
Ron—or Chronos, as he was formally called—was slime. Yes, he believed in choice over fate, as I did. Yes, he sent light reapers out to stop dark reapers from culling souls from bodies too soon, as I would have liked to. If things were different, we’d be working toward the same thing. But he had lied to me about who I was when I’d been killed. He kept from me that I was a timekeeper until it was too late and my body had been hidden away by Kairos, forcing me to accept my dark-timekeeper status in order to stay alive. He had betrayed me and Barnabas both and lied to heaven in his attempt to shift the balance of heavenly power on earth to his favor. And he was supposed to be the good guy.
Nakita’s sandals scraped against the pavement, worry etched deep into her brow. “Soon as Barnabas gets here, we leave. Neither of us can stand up to Chronos,” she said, visibly upset. “He can stop time.”
I edged closer to her, wishing Barnabas had landed already. He was just a spot of white in the otherwise blue sky. “It’s okay,” I said, as if trying to convince myself. “Even if Ron does freeze time, he can’t kill me.”
She turned to me, her eyes shifting silver for an instant as she touched on the divine. “But what if he takes you where I can’t follow?”
Swallowing hard, I shrugged. “Why would he? We’re just out here standing on a road. Maybe he’ll simply send a reaper to check it out.” But it was more than that, and we both knew it. Once Ron knew what we were up to, he’d simply slap a guardian angel on Shoe and I’d lose.
I looked up when the light was eclipsed for an instant, only to blind myself when a pair of white wings blinked out the sun. In a gust of air, Barnabas landed before us, his brown eyes shining with delight. “Madison, you did it!” he said, his wings arching up, the tips crossing an instant before they
vanished. Striding forward, he exclaimed, “I knew you could. When your thought slipped into mine…I am so proud of you!” But then he jerked to a halt upon noticing Nakita’s and my worry. “What’s wrong?”
Nakita took a firm stance, eyes on the sky again. “Her message echoed into Chronos’s mind as well as yours.”
“He’s probably coming,” I said miserably.
“How?” Barnabas said, looking confused. “His resonance isn’t anywhere near mine.”
Nakita’s eyes were darting everywhere. “They are both timekeepers,” she said. “You don’t think the seraphs created them such that they could talk if they wanted to?”
“I saw through his eyes,” I added.
“Sweet updrafts!” Barnabas cursed. “Are you shielding her?”
“Of course I’m shielding her, you broken feather!” Nakita snapped. “But I’m sure he got a glimpse of where we are before I got my shield in place. You did, didn’t you?”
Barnabas grimaced. Taking my elbow, he pulled us off the road, almost into the hissing cornstalks. “Fine. We leave,” he said to Nakita. “Let’s get out of here before he does show up.”
Nakita nodded and her amulet blazed as she shrugged her shoulders and her wings appeared. In an instant, I was between two angels, one with light wings, one with dark, both worried. “Why can’t I ever do anything right?” I asked, not expecting an answer, but when I got scared, I talked.
Barnabas stretched his wings again—they ran from one edge of the road to the other. “It’s not right or wrong,” he said, gathering me close to carry me into the air. “You did it, and now you need to learn how to focus. Why do you expect yourself to be perfect the first time? I’d have you try it again right now, but we have to stay shielded from here on out, and a shielded mind is a closed one.”
