Once Dead, Twice Shy Page 8

  Josh grinned. "If I'm still alive tomorrow morning, do you want a ride?"

  "You know it," I said, smiling. He wanted to pick me up, and I didn't think it was just because of the black wings. I think he liked me.

  I waved bye to my dad when he rolled his desk chair to his office door to see us leave, giving me a smile. I couldn't help but feel good. It wasn't simply that Josh might like me, either. I'd been banging my head against a wall for months trying to use my amulet, feeling more and more stupid as Barnabas got more and more despondent. If I could figure this out with Josh, then I wouldn't have to rely on Barnabas or Ron so much. I could do this on my own.

  Well, I mused as Josh closed the door behind me and searched his pockets for his keys, maybe not entirely alone, but I was going to do it.

  CHAPTER 6

  I'd only been to The Lowest Common Denominator, or the Low D as everyone called it, once before. My dad had taken me for pizza, and the casual eatery had been packed with college students either cramming for finals or relaxing after theirs were done. I knew he'd been trying to help me fit in, but pizza with my dad when everyone else was on their own hadn't painted the picture I'd been hoping to make. Maybe if I'd been able to go invisible that night, I might have had more luck making friends.

  Smiling at the thought, I picked at a French fry. Josh was hungry again—or still, maybe—which was how a quick pit stop here had made it a convenient place to practice, seeing as the large hangout was nearly empty. That had been almost an hour ago, and I was starting to get anxious. Maybe it wasn't the amulet, as Barnabas had said. Maybe it really was me. I'd seen a black wing drift through the parking lot when Josh had gone to the little boys' room, and the panicked face I'd made trying to reach Barnabas's thoughts had put Grace into stitches.

  We'd already been to the mall, and there was a new photo card in the trendy bag on the table, right beside my untouched soda and the fries. It was Josh's second plate, and he ate with a steady pace as he dipped fries in spicy cheese and watched me for signs of "ghosting," as he called it.

  Afternoon light streamed in through the big plate-glass windows that looked out on the mall. Low D had once been a burger joint, but bowing to convention, they now served lattes and had free wi-fi access. There was a center space with coffee tables and cushioned chairs, and booths around the edges. A few people were plugged in, hunched over their laptops, and eating overpriced sandwiches and gourmet kettle chips as they surfed.

  Lonely arcade sounds filtered out from the dark cave set to one side as the machines talked to themselves. Coming from the attached skate arena was the rumble of wheels where skaters tried their nerve and their boards on artificial hills and railings in the "snake pit." The sound of skateboards on plywood rose up through me like a second pulse of blood. Grace was at the register, resting in the bell that supposedly rang when someone in the snake pit jumped high enough to trigger it. One of the walls was a thick, scuff-marked sheet of Plexiglas, and hazy images moved beyond it in time with the rumbling.

  I turned from the transparent wall and my gaze went back to Josh. My fingers were tingling, but I thought it was because I was gripping my amulet too tightly, not because I was close to figuring this thing out. Perhaps I'd been too optimistic thinking I could learn how to do something useful in so short a time, but I was tired of relying on someone else for my safety, and Josh had been willing to help. "Can you see me now?" I asked hopefully.

  Josh's eyes met mine squarely, and I slumped. "I think you're trying too hard," he said.

  Slowly I let go of my amulet. "We've only got a few hours left. It's not like this thing came with an instruction manual." Depressed, I ran my fingers over my wax-and-paper cup to wipe the condensation off. Barnabas had been less than helpful the time I'd asked him about it after a particularly frustrating night. He'd only said he "thought slippery thoughts" and that I'd better spend my time learning how to contact him if I needed help. Slippery thoughts. Yeah, and if I thought happy thoughts, I'd sprout wings and fly.

  "You've only been at it for an hour. Don't be so hard on yourself. We've got a little time yet," Josh said, but his eyes were squinting in worry.

  Time, I thought as I wadded my straw wrapper into a ball and dropped it. Maybe I should have tried to learn how to slow time, but that sounded way harder than going invisible.

  "Don't worry about it," Josh said, but I could tell he was getting nervous. Meeting death was not something you could easily shake off, and the memory of Kairos standing in the moonlight with his scythe bared as I sat helpless in a smashed-up convertible drifted through me.

  My hand went back to my amulet, and I held the stone, seeking assurance that even if it was a dark timekeeper's amulet, I was here and sort of alive. Waking up in the morgue and seeing myself on the table had been the single most frightening thing in my life. Even worse, I knew it was my fault for having gotten into his car to begin with, mega-cuteness aside. Kairos wasn't so cute anymore. I couldn't believe I'd kissed him.

  I gripped the amulet harder. It had been with me for months now, the weight of it familiar and comforting. Without it, I wouldn't only be invisible, but insubstantial, able to pass through walls and closed doors. Black wing bait. Ghostlike. Maybe that was the key to it all. Not thinking slippery thoughts, but sort of finding a way to block the stone's influence.

  Staring at the table, I sifted through my thoughts for the memory of that awful moment in the morgue. I'd been able to feel my heartbeat and the air move in my lungs as I breathed from reflex, but my body had been in the black body bag, unable to sense the coldness of the granite or the smoothness of the plastic surrounding it. I'd been divorced from it. The tie to my body had been broken. It just hadn't been there. And, scared, I'd run.

  When I'd fled, the air had grown thin in me, like I was becoming as insubstantial as it was—almost equalizing. My knees had gone wobbly. The touch of real objects had hurt, as if grating upon my bone. It was only after Barnabas had come after me that I'd felt normal again. Only then had I been in a position to understand and recognize what I'd lost. With the lack of a body, the universe hadn't recognized me. That is, until Barnabas's amulet got close enough and it had something to grab on to again and bring me back in line with everything else.

  Perhaps with the separation from my body, I'd lost what time and the universe used to pull me forward. Maybe the amulets were like artificial points that time and the universe could fasten onto and use to keep mind and soul in sync with the present. And if I could break those ties…

  Anxious, I squirmed on the hard seat, believing I was on the right track. Eyes still closed, I fell deep into my thoughts and tried to see myself as a singular identity, tied to the present by the threads of the past. I could hear the noise around me: Josh slurping his drink, the jingle of the store's phone—and after months of learning how to concentrate, something finally went my way.

  Excitement shot through me as I suddenly could see the line my life had made. Tense, I saw how I grew from a possibility to a presence, marveling at how my life wove in and out of other people's lives, and then the ugly snarl where I'd died, almost as if time or space were making a knot to hold itself together when a soul was cut out of it. It was as if the memory of others bound the darkness here where I'd left it, giving it shape by what was lacking, a ghost of a presence that burst suddenly back into existence when I had obtained an amulet. But now, time wasn't using my body to find my soul and carry it forward; it was using the amulet I had swiped from Kairos. The color, or maybe the sound, was different. It had been a dark blue up to the point when I had died, and then, an abrupt shift to a purple so black it had a tinge of ultraviolet in it. Like Nakita's.

  My aura, I realized, wanting to drop everything and try to touch Barnabas's thoughts, but I brought my attention back. I felt myself shiver when I realized I could see my soul throwing lines of thought into the future—for thought must have to move faster than time. I could actually see the violet-colored lines extending from me into the futur
e, pulling me on with the rest of the universe. What made it all work, what colored the lines from my death onward, was the amulet giving time something on which to fasten.

  And if I could break some of those lines running from the amulet to the present, maybe I'd become invisible, like I'd been when I'd run from Barnabas in the morgue. Almost as if I wasn't wearing the stone even though it remained about my neck.

  Anticipation made me shiver, and I unfocused enough of my attention to make sure I was still sitting with Josh and nothing was going on. This had to work. We were running out of time. I wouldn't destroy all the threads—just a few—and none of the lines that were pulling me into the future. Just the ones that tied me to this instant of right-this-second.

  I took a slow breath that I didn't need, and as I exhaled, I plucked a thread that held me to the present. It separated like spider silk, making a soft hum of sound in my mind as it parted. Encouraged, I ran a theoretical hand between me and the present, taking out a larger swath. The rumbling from the snake pit seemed to echo through me. I could almost see the sound coming in waves in my imagination, passing through me to bounce against the far side of the booth.

  "Madison?" Josh whispered, and my eyes flew open. I stared at the table, my fingers tingling. "It's working," he said, awe in his voice.

  I inhaled as if coming up from deep water. My head snapped up and I stared at him. The sound of the skaters became real again, the imagined waves of sound gone but for in my thoughts. My heart pounded, and I felt dizzy, almost as if I was alive. Josh was staring at me, his blue eyes wide.

  "It worked!" he said again, leaning forward over his fries. "You're back now, but I could see the seat behind you!" He glanced around to see if anyone had noticed. "It was the weirdest thing I've ever seen. Do it again," he prompted.

  Relief filled me, and I shifted on the stiff cushion. "Okay. Here goes."

  Nervous and excited, I settled myself with my palms flat on the table as I willed it to happen again. Eyes open, I stared at the sky visible through the front windows. My focus blurred, and I fell into my thoughts. I felt the stone's presence everywhere in my recent past, weaving a net to tie each moment of time to the next. It was easier now, and with a finger of thought, I touched the new violet web that had formed and made it shrivel and fall away. The sounds around me grew hollow and I felt the queasy sensation of going insubstantial. The thudding of my heart, even if it was only a memory, vanished.

  "Holy smokes, Madison!" Josh exclaimed in a hushed rush of words. "You're gone!" He hesitated. "Are you…there? I don't believe this."

  I concentrated, breaking a good number of threads as they shifted from the future to the present, making sure to leave enough to pull me forward. "I'm here," I said, feeling my lips move and hearing my words as if from far away. I brought my gaze to Josh, finding it easier with practice. His eyes were roving everywhere, focusing mostly on the seat behind me.

  "Sweet," he said as he drew back. "I can hardly hear you. You sound creepy. Like you're whispering into a phone or something."

  A tight hum at my ear told me Grace had abandoned the bell by the register. I turned to the bright light darting frantically about the booth, and my mouth dropped open. "I can see you," I whispered. "My God, you're beautiful." She was only a minute tall, even though her glow made her look softball-sized. Her complexion was dark and her facial features were delicately sharp. Gold shimmered around her to make her outline unclear, especially when she moved. I couldn't tell if it was fabric or mist. The blur of her wings made the hazy glow I'd been seeing.

  Immediately the tiny angel came to a stop, focusing on my voice. She blinked in surprise, her eyes glowing like the sun. "I lost your song, Madison," she said. "I couldn't hear your soul anymore. Stop what you're doing. I can't see you."

  It worked! I thought ecstatically. If my guardian angel couldn't see me, then neither would a reaper or timekeeper. "I'm invisible," I said, gazing at her in wonder.

  "I can see that," she snapped, weaving in agitation. "Now stop it. It has to be a mistake. I can barely hear your soul singing. I can't protect you if I can't see you."

  I moved my arm, seeing that it had a shiny white edge to it now, kind of what a black wing looked like on the end. Curious, I tried to pick up my glass. I shivered as the cold of the pop went straight to my bones, and I couldn't seem to tighten my fingers enough to get a grip. I wondered why I could sit on a chair without passing through, until I moved the balled-up straw wrapper. It must be that I was substantial enough to have some effect on the world, but not a whole lot. Taking a walk in a windstorm would probably be a bad idea. Maybe that's how Barnabas could fly.

  "Madison, are you still there?" Josh whispered.

  "Yes," I said, allowing a few more lines to remain as the future became the present. The angel sighed in relief, and Josh's eyes shifted to mine.

  "Damn!" he whispered. "I can sort of see you. Jeez, Madison. This is bizarre. Can I touch you?"

  "I wouldn't," Grace said as she hovered over the table, but I shrugged, and he reached out to put his fingers on my wrist. We both shuddered at the eerie sensation of contact. His fingers seemed to burn, and I jerked away at the same time he did.

  "Cold," he said, hiding his hand under the table.

  "Can you hear me better?" I asked, and he nodded. This had to be the weirdest thing I'd ever done. Destroying the amulet's threads as they turned from future to present was almost easy now. Like humming to background music when you're doing your homework. I'd done it. I'd finally learned something, and the relief for that was almost enough to make me cry.

  "Excellent," Josh said, smiling as I went totally invisible again, much to Grace's disgust. "If you can do this, you can take that amulet for sure."

  I laughed, and Josh pressed into the cushions.

  "Don't laugh when you've ghosted like that," he said as he looked around the coffee shop. "It's really weird. Man, I'm going to have more nightmares."

  I think I flashed visible for an instant when the front door opened, surprising me. I tightened my awareness on the amulet's threads, taking out a chunk of them and going dizzy for an instant until I steadied myself and fell into a pattern of destroying them in a smooth progression. I looked up when Josh stiffened, seeing two people angling toward us, a third still at the counter, ordering.

  I froze, wondering what to do. They'd seen Josh here alone. I couldn't just pop back into existence. But then I made a face when I recognized the tall girl in a designer tank top and short shorts as Amy, looking like summer incarnate as she sauntered over with Len behind her. Parker was at the counter paying for everything as usual. All three were on the track team.

  Amy hung with the popular girls. Nice on the surface, but I'd tried to be a popular girl at my old school long enough to know that surface was often just that. She usually went with Len unless she was punishing him for cheating on her. But after having seen Len in action, I didn't feel sorry for her at all.

  Len was a big guy, and he liked to slam kids up against lockers when the teachers weren't looking, laughing and playing up to them like it was a joke so they would willingly trade the humiliation for five seconds of being noticed by the popular guy. Though he wasn't the fastest person on the track team, he was charming—especially in his own mind—and he treated girls like ice cream—sampling a new flavor each month for a day or two. He was good-looking enough that the girls he went after let him get away with it, a fact that irritated me to no end.

  Parker seemed nice enough, but I had a feeling they let him hang with them because he put up with their abuse, hungry to belong. Seeing him paying for everything now made me ill. I'd almost been a Parker once, trying anything, enduring everything, even making excuses for others in my effort to belong. If not for Wendy, I might have caved and become that person. It wasn't worth it. Not by a long shot.

  "Hi, Josh," Amy said cheerfully as she cocked her hip and put one hand flat on the table. "So where's Madison A-very-freaky-girl? Still pushing her bike down the
road?"

  Peeved, I scooted into the corner of the booth, cutting threads like mad to stay invisible.

  Josh gave her a sour look as he did a hand-slapping thing with Len. "She's really nice, okay? Don't call her that anymore."

  "Oh?" Amy sat, making me shrink back farther. "You're the one who started it."

  I scrambled up and climbed over the seat to stand on the cushion of the adjacent booth when Len sat and Amy shifted down.

  "That was before I got to know her," Josh said, his ears going red. "She's cool."

  Amy scoffed, picking up my shopping bag with a pinkie and moving it closer so she could look inside. "Doing a little shopping?" she taunted, and if I could pick things up, I would have shoved a chunk of ice down the back of her shirt. "We saw you at the mall."

  Josh's eyes scanned the room, looking for me, probably. If I was smart, I'd duck into the girls' bathroom, go visible, and come back. But I stayed. "It's Madison's. She's taking pictures tomorrow and needed a new card," he said, taking the bag back. "You should give her a chance. You'd like her."

  "Doubt it," Amy said dryly, then took the iced coffee that Parker had brought over. "Where does she live? Hidden Lake? Like there was ever a lake in that middle-class slum."

  My teeth gritted, and I snipped a rush of lines before I became visible.

  "That's really classy, Amy," Josh said bitingly. I glanced at Parker, knowing he lived down the street from me. His lips were pressed together and he wouldn't look at anyone.

  Amy brought her knees up, sitting sideways with her feet on the bench seat to look coy. "I think Josh is sweet on his new little friend. God! She has purple hair. What a freak."

  Josh exhaled slowly, eyes down. If I hadn't already been dead, I would have died right then. My fingers reached to touch my hair, and I vowed to put a green streak in it next week. Beside me, I could see Grace starting to get angry, her eyes almost shooting sparks.