by Kim Harrison
“Good God almighty,” Ron interrupted, turning away with a hand in the air. “I can’t keep this from the seraphs. Can you imagine the fervor? You simply haven’t spent enough time with her. Learning how to thought-touch is done slowly, not bang and you can do it.”
Barnabas’s eyebrows furrowed. “I never said she wouldn’t be able to learn how to touch thoughts with someone, just not me. Sir,” he said, glancing at me, “Nakita was the dark reaper assigned to the scything. She recognized Madison’s stone. Madison has Kairos’s amulet!”
The timekeeper went stock-still. Alarm turned to wide-eyed surprise. Seeing his gaze touch upon my amulet, I put my fist around the stone so firmly that the silver wires cradling it bit deep. It was mine. I’d claimed it and no one was going to get it without a fight. Not even Kairos, whoever he was.
“Kairos?” Ron whispered, and then, seeing my fear, he broke eye contact with me.
“Yes, and if she has Kairos’s amulet,” Barnabas said, “then maybe—”
“Hush,” Ron whispered, cutting his words off, and Barnabas fumed. “I knew it wasn’t a regular reaper’s stone, but Kairos’s? Are you sure that’s what Nakita said?”
Barnabas was standing stiffly. “I was there, sir.”
Nakita also said I belonged to them, which makes me feel all peachy-keen. I just wanted to be who I was before, blissfully ignorant about reapers and timekeepers and black wings. Maybe if I ignored it, it would go away.
Ron squinted at us, his stiff stance giving off a sudden air of mistrust. He gestured to the edge of the shadow. “Go watch the sky, Barnabas.”
Silent, Barnabas shifted to the edge of the sun and sent his gaze upward. A chill went through me. Everything had changed in an instant—because of Kairos.
“Who’s Kairos?” I asked, turning my attention back to Ron.
“My counterpart.” Ron had his hands on his hips as he looked uneasily out from the shelter of the tree and into the hot parking lot. “Light reapers, dark reapers. Light timekeeper, dark timekeeper. You didn’t think I was the only one, did you? Everything has a balance, and Kairos is mine. Kairos watches the threads of time weave into possible futures and sends dark reapers to scythe people early. I spend more time trying to second-guess him than anything else.”
He said the last word like it was a curse. My heart was pounding again, and I crossed my arms over my chest as if I could make it stop. Okay. I had swiped a timekeeper’s amulet. Crap, I had to get rid of this thing, but it wasn’t like I could borrow a reaper’s amulet and return this one to Kairos. Keeping it was my only option. I’d never sleep again. Good thing I didn’t need to.
“No wonder Seth hasn’t come back,” I said, trying to work this through to a conclusion. “I bet he’s hiding from Kairos.”
Frowning, Ron shifted deeper into the shadow to lean against the wall beside me. “A reaper wouldn’t be able to use Kairos’s amulet, just as a timekeeper can’t use a reaper’s,” he said. “Nakita must be mistaken. Unless”—Ron’s eyebrows rose in a private thought as he turned sideways to look at me—“it wasn’t a reaper who killed you. Perhaps Kairos was doing a little extracurricular scything on his own.”
Barnabas looked over his shoulder at that, and Ron waved him to be quiet. Again.
“What did Seth look like?” Ron asked, his voice deceptively mild.
Nervous, I levered myself up to sit on the wall, glancing at Barnabas, but he had returned his gaze to the sky. I drew my knees to my chin, not wanting to remember that night, but the memory came back with crystal clarity. “Dark complexion,” I said. “Dark wavy hair. Nice accent.” Good kisser, I added in my thoughts, cringing. Oh, God. I’ve kissed the guy who killed me.
Sexy stranger at the prom had turned into psychopath Seth, a dark reaper bent on killing me. Which he did, using a reaper blade after rolling his convertible down an embankment hadn’t done it. I’d woken up in the morgue that night to hear Barnabas arguing with another light reaper as to whose fault it was I was dead. They’d been there to apologize and keep the black wings off my soul until I got to my “reward.” But everything changed when Seth showed up at the morgue as well. Seems he wanted to throw my soul in front of someone to “buy his way to a higher court,” whatever that meant. But only Barnabas and I knew that last part. For some reason Barnabas had thought we shouldn’t say anything about it to Ron. And then I’d stolen Seth’s amulet, and the fact that I’d been able to do that at all and remain here was a mystery to everyone involved.
Ron rubbed his ear like he had a nervous tic. “Taller than you by about a hand?”
My stomach clenched. “Yeah,” I mumbled, “that’s him.”
Barnabas’s feet shifted in the grit as a long exhale escaped Ron. “I should be blessed by baboons!” Ron muttered, then started pacing within the confines of the shade. “That was Kairos,” he said tightly. “He didn’t give you his true name. God, if you ever loved me, open my eyes for me when I’m being this stupid!”
“But he looked my age,” I protested. Great, not only had I kissed the man who killed me, but he was older than the pyramids, too. Yuck! Now that I thought about it, he had been too good at both dancing and kissing to be seventeen.
“Kairos gained his position unusually early, long before his predecessor intended.” Halting, Ron stared into the parking lot. “Hasn’t aged a day since acquiring the amulet now around your neck. Pretty prima donna. I bet he’s not happy about growing older again. I’d wager a timekeeper’s amulet is the only divine stone you could have claimed that wouldn’t blow your soul to dust.”
“Because I’m dead?” I guessed, and Ron shook his head.
“Because you’re human. Just as timekeepers are.”
“So it really isn’t my fault then that I couldn’t keep her alive,” Barnabas interrupted. “I can’t best a timekeeper.”
“No, you can’t,” Ron said, giving him a look that said to shut up. “And if Madison has bonded with Kairos’s stone, the only way he can reclaim it is if she’s dead.”
“But I am dead,” I protested, hands clasped about my drawn-up knees.
Ron smiled faintly. “I mean, your soul destroyed. He’s got your body, I presume. Someone has it. And as long as you exist in some fashion, the amulet is tied to you. That you were able to claim it at all from him is a miracle.” He glared at Barnabas when the reaper tried to interrupt. “You need to stay away from him,” he said, turning back to me.
“Not a problem,” I said, scanning the sky I could see. “Just tell me what cloud he lives on, and I’ll make a note of it.”
Ron resumed pacing, his robes moving elegantly and his slight form staying in the tree’s shade. “He lives on earth, same as me,” he said distantly, clearly too preoccupied with his thoughts to get the joke.
“Sir,” Barnabas said, making me nervous when he turned his back on the sky. Shouldn’t someone be watching? “If Kairos hasn’t come after her by now, maybe he won’t.”
“Kairos give up on his quest for immortality? No. I doubt that,” he said. “I’m guessing he hasn’t come after Madison yet because until today, no one knew he’d lost his amulet. He was undoubtedly taking the time to make another one. The longer he spends on it, the better it will be—though he’ll never create one that matches the power of the one he lost. No, Nakita has probably told him Madison has it. He’ll be looking for her now. We will have to hope I changed your resonance fast enough.”
“Timekeepers make the amulets?” I asked, surprised, and my attention fell on Ron’s own black amulet, almost lost in the folds of his robe. “Can’t you make me a new one and I can give Kairos his amulet back?”
Ron blinked at me as if startled by the thought. “I make them, yes, and give them to angels who are stirred to take action and choose to become something they’ve never been before. Not everyone is happy with the way things are, and this is one way of many to make a difference. But you’re dead, Madison. I can’t create a stone to keep the dead alive. Trying to use one I’ve given
to a reaper will burn through your human mind. I say since Kairos killed you, you have the right to keep his. Of course, the seraphs may think differently.”
I bit my lower lip worriedly when Barnabas moved his attention to the road at the top of the hill as a car went by. Seraphs. They had the clout to make big decisions. Reapers were below them, and guardian angels lower. Barnabas talked about seraphs like they were spoiled children with power. Scary. “This is bad, isn’t it?” I offered softly.
Ron’s bark of laughter died quickly. “It’s not good,” he said; then, seeing my pinched brow, he smiled. “Madison, you claimed Kairos’s stone. It’s yours. I’ll do my best to see that it stays that way. Just give me the time to get the political machine working.”
I slid from the wall, nerves demanding I move. “Ron, I know why he’s after me now, but this started months ago. What did I ever do to make him come after me in the first place?”
Barnabas turned from the edge of the shadow to face us, but Ron interrupted him before he could speak, coming forward to take my hands and smile reassuringly. At least I think it was supposed to be reassuring. But there was something in the back of his eyes that made me queasy.
“I have a few ideas,” he said, his gaze touching mine briefly before darting away. “Let me find out more. No need to worry you needlessly.”
“Ron, if she has Kairos’s stone, then perhaps—”
“Oh, look at the time,” Ron blurted, taking Barnabas’s arm and actually jerking the reaper off balance. “We have to go.”
Go? Go where? Startled, I took a step forward. “You’re leaving?”
“We’ll be back soon.” Ron squinted as he dragged Barnabas into the sunny patch. “I have to talk to the seraphs, and I’ll need Barnabas as a go-between.” He smiled, but it looked strained. “I’m not dead yet, you know,” he said with forced good humor. “I don’t have a direct line to the divine plane. No need to worry, Madison. Everything is fine.”
But it didn’t feel fine. Things were happening too fast, and I didn’t like it.
“Sir!” Barnabas exclaimed as he yanked out of Ron’s grip. “If Kairos comes after her, changing her amulet’s resonance won’t be enough. He knows what she looks like. So does Nakita. Either of them can simply walk around and find her. Shouldn’t we leave her with a guardian angel?”
Ron blinked as if shocked that he hadn’t thought of that himself. “Uh, of course,” he said as he came back into the shade. “What a perfectly proper thing to do. But, Madison,” he said as he gripped his stone and a glow of black light leaked from between his fingers, “I’d advise saying nothing about Kairos’s amulet to your guardian.” His eyes went to my amulet and then back to my gaze. “The fewer who know you have it, the fewer I will have to convince you should be allowed to keep it.”
Frightened, I nodded, and he smiled. Almost before my head stopped moving, a faint sphere of golden light hazed into existence in the shade of the oak tree. I stared at the dancing, hovering glow. It had to be a guardian angel. For me? Barnabas was clearly relieved, and I wondered why he cared when he’d been so hot to get rid of me not twenty minutes ago.
The ball of light shrank to nothing when it landed atop the wall, and I started when an ethereal voice seemed to insert itself into my head, saying, “Guardian, Reaper-Augmented Cherub, Extinction Security, as requested!”
Patting my shoulder, Ron turned, apparently having heard it as well. “And you are?”
“G.R.A.C.E.S. one-seventy-six,” the curious chiming came again, making my ears hum.
Cherubs? As in flying naked babies with arrows?
Barnabas looked worried and the ball of light reappeared as the voice belligerently shot out, “You got a problem with cherubs, reaper?”
“No,” Barnabas said. “I didn’t think G.R.A.C.E.S. employed the cherub union until the protected was eighteen.”
A tiny rude snort filled my mind. “Like anyone is going to fall in love with her?” the light scoffed. “I’m a guardian angel. Not a miracle worker.”
“Hey!” I exclaimed, insulted, and the globe of light darted to me. I backed up when it got too close. Graces, eh? More like a firefly from hell.
“You can see and hear me?” the ball of light chimed as it ran a quick circle around me, and I spun to try to keep it in view.
“Hear, yes. See? Not really, no.” Disoriented, I stopped turning, and the glow settled on the bars of my bike and faded away. Barnabas snorted, and the glow reappeared and dimmed.
“Delightful,” Ron drawled. “One-seventy-six, this is a temporary duty, not till death do you part. Keep her safe, and I want to know immediately if anything unsavory should come within thirty cubits of her.”
The light lifted from the bike and shifted to me. “Thirty cubits. A-a-a-affirmative!”
Affirmative? This is an angel, right?
Ron gave me a last warning look to behave, grabbed Barnabas’s arm, and started pulling him away. “I’ll be back when I can. Oh, and I like your hair. It’s very…you.”
I tried to smooth out my brow as I fingered the tips of my hair, then jerked when the two of them vanished. My breath hissed in, and I actually saw the shadows shift to later in the day. Not by much. Maybe a few seconds was all, but Ron had stopped time to cover his tracks. My stone was warm as if in reaction to his own amulet, and I held it tight. Looking out from the shade into the bright parking lot, I thought the world looked a whole lot more dangerous.
For the first time in four months, I was alone.
Three
“I hate it when he does that,” I muttered, jumping when my guardian flew in front of me.
“Does what?” it chimed out.
Maybe not so alone. Sighing, I reached for my bike. “Stops time and jumps the sun like that, but I really wasn’t talking to you.” If anyone saw me talking to the air, I’d definitely end up in the weirdo clique when school started back up. Not my senior year. I didn’t have time to work myself out from that again. You come to school one day with bat wings for Halloween, and you never live it down. A faint smile curved my lips up. Wendy, my friend back in Florida, had worn them too. It had almost made the batgirl-twins jokes funny.
The ball of light made a burst of indignant sound. “You’re really short, for a mortal.”
“Look who’s talking,” I shot back, then swung my leg over my bike. I shoved on the pedal, and the wheels made a pained sound, resistance keeping me from moving. “Hey!” I exclaimed when I realized my front tire was flat. The guardian angel was laughing. It had to be; its color was wildly shifting through the spectrum. “What did you do to my bike?” I said, though it was obvious.
“I’m protecting you!” it sang merrily. “Don’t you feel safer already?”
My thoughts went to the five-mile walk home. “Protecting me from what?” I snapped. “Me being thought of as anything other than a dweeb?” Ticked, I pushed my bike across the hot pavement toward the distant exit. Stupid guardian angel. What the devil was wrong with it?
I spun around at the sound of the metal school door crashing open, and saw a guy wearing running shorts come out. Two more people followed him. Track practice in August? “There once was a girl with blond hair, whose tresses were short like a mare,” G.R.A.C.E.S. one-seventy-six sang, hovering by my ear. “She brushed and she preened, like she was a queen, till I laced her shampoo with some Nair.”
“Charming. It sings,” I muttered, and the angel giggled, seeming to send a wash of cool air over me. Behind me, voices rang out amid the thumping of car doors and starting engines. The first truck roared by me, and I turned to the right to avoid the exhaust, pulling my bike past the end of the wall and dragging it up the hill to the main road.
Someone blew their horn, and I ignored it. The hill was steep, and when a line of erosion bushes appeared in front of me, I angled into the water runoff ditch full of rocks the size of my head. But the moment I found the ditch, my front tire got stuck and the handlebar jammed into my gut. My breath came out in a pained
huff, and I looked up to find a truck stopped at the top of the hill. Great. I had a freaking audience.
“There once was a girl with a bike, who thought she’d go off on a hike.”
“Shut up!” I shouted, then looked up to the sound of a door slamming. My shoulders slumped and I felt weary. It was Josh. Prom-date Josh. The same guy who’d only gone out with me because my dad and his dad worked together and had set it up. I’d been a “favor.” And when Josh accidentally let this slip at the prom, I’d left in a huff—with Seth/Kairos. Swell. I hadn’t seen much of Josh since I’d died except for passing him in the hall. Now, leaning against my bike, I watched him recline against his truck door with his ankles crossed, smiling at me.
Oh, for cripe’s sake. Looking back down, I laboriously unstuck the wheel and pushed forward, but the memory of the night I died filled my thoughts. Josh had followed me to make sure I got home okay even after I’d ditched him. He’d seen the car crash, had slid down the embankment to try to save me. I think he’d even held my hand as I died. Barnabas assured me he didn’t remember a thing. Except perhaps that I’d been a bitch to him at prom and left with someone else.
“You need some help?”
I looked up to find Josh still leaning against his truck. He looked good, his wet blond hair dark from a shower, blue eyes squinting in the sun as he pushed a new pair of trendy glasses back up his narrow nose. I’d seen him talking with the drama club geeks at school and sticking up for the smart kids in the hall, but he usually hung with the jocks. Not quite the popular crowd, but close enough not to matter in a town this size. He was nice to everyone, which was not the norm for what I’d call a very dateable guy.
“I said, do you need some help!” he said louder as he waved at a girl driving by. It was Amy. I didn’t like her. She was too full of herself to have room for a real thought in her head.
Blowing the hair out of my eyes, I wished I was still at the lake, dark reaper and all. “No,” I called back. “But thanks.” Head down, I shoved the bike over a rock and moved up a foot.
