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Once Dead, Twice Shy Page 6


  "It was a dream," he said as he put the tailgate down.

  Frustrated, I put a fist on my hip. He didn't want it to be real, because if it was, he'd feel like it was his fault, like he should have insisted he take me home. "A dream that you keep having and I know all about?" I prompted, stepping back as the bike scraped across the liner.

  "Sure," he said around a grunt as he lifted it free. "My mom would say it means I have a psychological hang-up about you. I'll get over it."

  "You'll get dead!" I exclaimed, then lowered my voice as cars passed us not ten feet away. "Reapers can't find me, but they can find you."

  "These are the guys with the scythes, right?" he asked, laughing.

  I took my bike as he rolled it between us. "Josh, you were there the night I crashed. Kairos has seen you. He's looking for me, and he's going to use you to do it. The only reason you're safe right now is because you're with me."

  He smiled, squinting in the sun. "A regular Wonder Woman, are you?"

  "Stop laughing at me!" I said, imagining what was going to happen when school started back up. He and his friends were going to have a good laugh over this. If he survived. "It's the amulet that protects you, not me!" I couldn't tell him about my guardian angel. Not yet. He'd laugh his butt off.

  His eyes flicked to the stone resting against my lower neck, and his amusement dimmed.

  A black shadow ran over the parking lot and sent a spike of fear through me. I looked up to see a black wing. It kept moving, but there were three more across the street. This was so not good. In the ten seconds he'd been away from me, they'd gotten a whiff of him. "Just stay with me until Barnabas gets back, okay?"

  "Barnabas?" he questioned, then shoved his tailgate up. "That's the guy from the prom."

  "Yes." Wings, amulet, can't miss him.

  His face was thoughtful as he took my bike from me and pushed it toward the shop.

  "Look," I said, thinking he was starting to believe. "Do you see those things?"

  I pointed to the slime-coated sheets of black slumped atop the post office's roof, and his smile quirked again. "The crows, Madison?"

  I put a hand on my bike and stopped him from taking it inside. "They only look like crows, and I think the fact that you can see them at all means you've been marked." Susan had seen them yesterday too, from the boat. "They're called black wings. Reapers can use them to zero in on their victims. If you get too far from me, death is going to be knocking on your door." And where the devil is my guardian angel? I thought, suddenly realizing she was absent.

  "Reapers," he said, chuckling, and I yanked the bike to a stop when he pushed it forward.

  "Kairos knows your aura resonance. He can find you. Listen to me."

  I wouldn't let him move the bike, and he suddenly shoved it back at me. "You are one weird chick, Madison."

  "Josh, I'm serious!"

  He didn't even turn around as he opened his truck door, saying over his shoulder, "What you are is seriously messed up. Don't talk to me, okay?"

  A noise of frustration escaped me as he cranked his music and backed his truck up. His neck was red as he put it in gear, and after hesitating at the top of the entrance, he gunned the engine, tires spinning as he jerked his truck onto the road before traffic could trap him here with me.

  "Idiot!" I exclaimed, then stiffened when, like lions scenting blood, all the black wings in sight lifted and turned. "Oh-h-h-h-h, crap," I whispered, spotting Josh sitting at a light half a block away. "Josh!" I shouted, but he couldn't hear me over his music.

  The light changed, and he accelerated, clearly angry, by the way he was driving. My hand went to my mouth when a familiar black convertible appeared out of nowhere. It was Kairos. It had to be. And he was heading right for Josh.

  A loud bang shook me, and a ball of electrical light flashed at the top of a pole. In a slow, majestic swoop, the traffic light swung to the pavement, the wire severed at the pole. Josh was right at the bottom of the arc.

  "Josh!" I cried out, but he couldn't have heard me. He saw the light, though, and he slammed on the brakes, tires squealing as he swerved. Jumping the curb, he slid sideways into an ice-cream store's parking lot. Dust whirled up as he rocked to a halt. Behind him, the black convertible hit the falling traffic light in a spectacular bang of electricity, plastic, and metal. It was right where Josh would have been.

  I dumped the bike and started running. A tall figure in black got out of the convertible, dressed formally, with luscious wavy black hair shining in the sun. I remembered his dusky skin, the scent of dead salt water on him. And his blue-gray eyes, looking distant and yet like they could see right through me. It was Kairos. My pace faltered at the stopped traffic. People were getting out of their cars.

  The thump of Josh's truck door spiked adrenaline in me. "Hey, man! Are you okay?" he shouted as he jogged to Kairos.

  "Josh," I whispered, too afraid to say it louder for fear Kairos would see me. Had Kairos made the traffic light fall to kill Josh, or had the light falling been a happy accident that saved him?

  I ducked as a black wing swooped overhead, and my breath hissed in. Josh skidded to a halt in the middle of the road in front of Kairos. His face was pale, and he looked up as if he finally saw the dripping sheets of circling black for the first time. People were in my way, and I couldn't get to him. "Don't let him touch you!" I shouted, but it was too late.

  My feet turned to clay as Kairos reached a thin hand out and gripped Josh's upper arm. The elegant man pulled him close, and it was as if I was watching my own death, reliving it. There was no scythe, but it wouldn't be hard to hide it, they were so close.

  And then Josh jerked out of his reach. Stumbling, he warded Kairos off, continuing to put space between them as he backed away. He ducked as a black shape no one but the three of us could see dove at him.

  Darting around the black convertible, I reached out and grabbed Josh's arm.

  "Hey!" he shouted, pulling out of my grip; then he recognized me. His glasses were askew, and his blue eyes had fear in them, fear that he finally believed me and fear that death was standing in the intersection—looking at us.

  Terror seized my muscles. People were between us and Kairos, asking him if he was okay. Someone jostled me, and, startled, I tugged Josh backward, my eyes never leaving Kairos. He had wanted me dead even before I stole his amulet. Why? "Come on," I said, pulling Josh into the press of people. "Get in your truck!"

  I jumped when my guardian angel's laughter tinkled nearby. "There once was a boy full of class," the light sang, "who always skipped his Sunday mass. He almost hit death, but missed Kairos Seth. He'll never know who saved his ass."

  "Get in the truck!" I shouted, tugging at Josh, who was still staring at Kairos. I didn't think the black wings could see us now because my guardian angel was back. She was probably the one who had made the light fall, causing Josh to swerve out of the way and Kairos to crash, thereby attracting enough attention so that the dark timekeeper couldn't easily kill him.

  "It's him," Josh said, pale as he fixed his glasses back on his nose. "He asked about you," he added, and I pushed him through the rubbernecking crowd to his truck, his music still blaring and adding to the confusion.

  "Wow, big surprise," I muttered. I could hear a siren, and I sent a grateful look in the direction of my guardian angel. She'd stopped Kairos in such a way that Josh had been a bystander. Not a scratch on his car nor a reason for us to stick around. Kairos, though, would have a hard time leaving, buying us more time to get away. She was good. No, she was great!

  The hot sun was bouncing up from the ice-cream store's parking lot when I yanked Josh's truck door open. "Don't Fear the Reaper" was blasting out, and I slid across the seat and pulled Josh in after me. My guardian angel was singing, her tinkling voice adding to the travesty.

  "The truck moves, right?" I said, and Josh took a deep breath. Hands shaking, he put the truck, still running, in gear. Carefully edging back into the street, he accelerated. Every second pu
t more space between Josh and Kairos, between Kairos and me.

  Josh turned his music off, much to the guardian angel's disappointment. His gaze was behind us more than in front. In a flurry of panicked motion, he put his seat belt on.

  "Are you okay?" I asked, then leaned in to look at his speedometer. I'd never seen someone as white as he was now. Maybe I should have been driving.

  He licked his lips. "That was him. He asked for you by name."

  My chest hurt, and I took a deep breath to explain. "At least he didn't kill you. Hey, can you slow down? There are other people here."

  "He might follow us," he said. I put a comforting hand on his arm, but it made him jump.

  "He can't track you by your aura because of my amulet—as long as you are close to me, you're safe."

  From the bell came a voice chiming, "It's the angel, baby, not your amulet."

  "Yeah," I shot back, "but he won't believe that."

  Crap. I closed my mouth and cringed. Josh slowed down as a cop car raced past us, heading for the accident. Pulling to the curb, he turned to me. "Who are you talking to? Please, please, please don't tell me it's dead people."

  My head started to hurt. I was really stupid sometimes. "Uh, my, uh, guardian angel," I said hesitantly. "She's, uh, on your Harley bell."

  "Guardian angel?"

  I gave him a sickly smile. "She's a Guardian, Reaper-Augmented Cherub, Extinction Security, one-seventy-six. Or G.R.A.C.E.S. one-seventy-six for short." I couldn't call her that. Grace, though, maybe.

  Josh began to protest, and Grace made the bell ping. Josh stared at it, white-faced. "Madison?" he said softly.

  "Yes?"

  "You're dead?"

  I nodded. "Yup."

  He swallowed, both hands on the wheel as he looked up through the strip of blue-tinted glass to the sky. "And those aren't crows?"

  Wincing, I noted the black wings were at the horizon again, circling. "No," I said, and Josh let his forehead hit the steering wheel with a soft thump.

  "But you're okay?" he said to his knees.

  "Because I have my amulet," I said, holding it. "You're okay because Ron left me with a guardian angel while he tries to convince the seraphs to let me keep it." Twisting, I turned to look behind us. "Kairos knows your aura resonance from the prom, but he can't see it if you're with me. But maybe we should, uh, get moving again."

  Not saying a word, Josh checked behind him and put the truck back in gear. We headed through town by way of the side roads. "Uh," I said uncertainly, "you want to come over to my house for a sandwich?"

  "S-sure."

  I licked my lips, not liking his shell-shocked expression as he made a left to get on the interstate and take the long way to the other side of town. I knew how it felt to have death touch you, realizing you'd be dead but for the whim of something that really didn't care one way or the other.

  "I'm sorry you got involved," I said, remembering Josh's voice when he slid down the slope that night, trying to reach me even as Kairos cut my thread of life. "You were there. It wasn't a dream. But I want to thank you. Because of you, I didn't die alone."

  CHAPTER 5

  Josh sat uneasily at the rectangular table in the kitchen, his legs stretching from one end to the other. He had made two sandwiches for himself, and the shaved ham spilled out all over. He liked ice in his pop, and barbecue-flavored chips. Me, I had a thin sandwich, a handful of chips, and a glass of iced tea. I enviously watched him slam down half his soda in one gulp. I hadn't been hungry since I'd hit ctrl/alt/del. Coming up with excuses for my dad as to why I wasn't eating was getting harder.

  The kitchen hadn't been remodeled since the house was built, and the white-and-yellow-tiled splashboard and the cream-colored walls looked tired. The cupboards were a blah brown, and the fridge was the one I remembered from before my parents separated. But tucked in a corner was a state-of-the-art coffeemaker, proving my dad had his priorities. There was a small lazy Susan with napkins, salt and pepper, and a dusty ashtray sitting right where it would be in my mom's kitchen—whispers of her still in my dad's life though she'd been gone for years.

  Josh looked at my sandwich as I sat across from him. "Is that all you're going to eat?" he questioned, and I shrugged.

  "I don't sleep much, either," I said as I fingered a chip and wondered if Grace, currently singing limericks in the light fixture, ate anything. Barnabas didn't. "Late-night TV gets old after a few months."

  Late-night TV, uninterrupted Internet surfing, staring at the ceiling when Barnabas was through with me…not much fun when you had no one to share it with. The info on auras I'd gotten off the Internet hadn't helped. Neither had the stuff on angels. Barnabas had laughed so hard he'd almost rolled off the roof when I'd brought out my laptop to show him before our nightly—and apparently useless—attempts at teaching me how to touch thoughts. I've been failing because I have Kairos's amulet? I thought, fingering it. Maybe it was like trying to get a U.S. hair dryer to work in a British socket.

  "So you're dead," Josh said around his full mouth.

  The iced tea made my teeth ache, and I glanced at the clock. It's been hours. Where are they? "Yup."

  "And that amulet gives you a body," he prompted.

  "The solid illusion of one, yes," I said, fidgeting. "It also hides me from the black wings so they don't suck my soul away. A soul without a body is fair game. That's why they anticipate reaps, hoping to snitch some. They don't show up at normal deaths—just when you've been marked early." I pulled the crusts off my sandwich, but I didn't have it in me to eat it.

  He eyed the mutilated crust. "Keep your amulet on, 'kay? Black wings give me the creeps."

  "Not a problem." I should have practiced more, I thought. Then again, if I had a dark timekeeper stone, my aura resonance would shift far from Barnabas's when I tried to use it. More like Nakita's. Maybe I could touch thoughts with Nakita?

  "So…" Josh said hesitantly, bringing my wandering thoughts back. "Where's your real one? Body, I mean." His brow pinched. "You didn't bury it in the backyard, did you?"

  "Kairos has it," I admitted, a sliver of fear flickering through me. "At least, he stole it out of the morgue when I…ran."

  Josh shifted his feet and bumped my chair leg. "That's ugly. Kairos was that guy in the black car, right? He's a reaper?"

  I winced, not wanting to tell him he was a keeper of time. It sounded so lame. "He's actually the dark reapers' head guy," I said, thinking that was marginally better. "Barnabas is a light reaper. He tries to save the people that the dark reapers target."

  Josh took another bite and wiped the corner of his mouth. "Like you?"

  "Yes, but he messed up because it was my birthday." Fidgeting, I rearranged the chips on my plate. "He thought Kairos was going after you, actually."

  His chewing slowed as his eyebrows rose. "I didn't know it was your birthday. No wonder you were all pissy. Set up by your dad on your birthday? That's wrong."

  I smiled a lopsided smile, and he smiled back. From the light fixture, Grace giggled.

  My eyes dropped, and Josh went back to his sandwich. "I sort of remember Barnabas. You said he can keep those things from getting me? Where is he? Uh…heaven?"

  I shook my head. "He's with Ron, his boss." Tension was winding tighter in me as we sat and did nothing. Why am I playing tea party with Josh when death is looking for us? Brushing my bangs back, I gazed out the kitchen window to the empty street. "Kairos wants his amulet back. Ron thinks I should keep it." What if they never show up?

  "But Kairos has an amulet," Josh said. "I saw it."

  Smiling grimly, I nodded. "Apparently it's not as powerful as the one I took. As bad as I feel for him, I'd rather stay alive, thank you. He shouldn't have killed me in the first place," I muttered.

  His expression thoughtful, Josh propped his elbows on the table. "Kairos came back for your soul at the morgue. That's messed up."

  "Yeah," I said, stifling a shudder. "He targeted me, killed me, then came back for
me. They never do that." Why me? I'm not special.

  "So you're a reaper now?" Josh said, looking uncomfortable. "Like in the books where if you cheat death, you take his place?"

  "No freaking way!" I exclaimed. "Only a reaper can be a reaper. I'm just dead."

  That seemed to give Josh a measure of peace as he settled back and started on his second sandwich. "This is so weird."

  I snorted and ate a chip. "You have no idea," I said, then slid my sandwich to him, minus the crusts, which I picked at. Though I was upset, it was nice having someone to talk shop with besides Barnabas. I should've done this months ago. Not that Josh would have believed me, much less talked to me. I'd been spending so much time in my room e-mailing Wendy about nothing that I hadn't tried to make any new friends. Maybe I should change that, I thought sadly. That is, if I survived. Where in God's creation was Barnabas?

  Josh began chuckling, and I eyed him. "I'm kind of glad you're dead."

  "Why?" I asked, miffed. "So you can eat my lunch?"

  Elbows on the table, he smiled. "Because it means I'm not crazy."

  My brief smile faded. "I'm sorry. You weren't supposed to remember anything. It must have been awful, having a memory like that when everything is telling you it's a dream. Is it bad? I think my dad remembers stuff too." Me in the morgue, the call never completed to my mom. The guilt, the loss…boxes to be filled, taped up, and put in the attic.

  His eyes down, Josh nodded. I heard a car pull into the drive and got up. It was my dad, and after seeing Josh's truck, he backed out and parked in the street so he didn't block him in. "What's my dad doing home?" My attention shifted to the clock on the stove. It was only one thirty.

  Wiping the chip crumbs off himself, Josh shifted in his seat. "You don't think he heard about what happened, do you? I probably shouldn't have driven off like that."

  My dad was eyeing Josh's truck as he came up the walk, squinting until he found the shade. His khakis and dress shirt made him look professional, but he was still wearing his lab coat—which meant I was in trouble. He never forgot to take it off unless he was upset. His work ID dangled from around his neck, and he tucked it into the lab coat's breast pocket when he reached the drive.