Something Deadly This Way Comes (14 page)

It felt good to say it, and my face warmed even as I turned from the reapers watching me with varying degrees of hope and disbelief. Paul was silent again, but there was nothing more I could say, and I waited, fidgeting.

“Where are you?” he said flatly, and I took a huge breath of air, thrilled to my toes. Demus softly swore, and Barnabas and Nakita exchanged a high five. Josh smiled softly, and I warmed. “Puerto Rico?” he guessed. “Ron just sent someone out there.”

“Baxter, California,” I said, feeling like this might work even though he hadn't said yes yet. “I'm not sure where that is exactly. Somewhere south? It's hot and muggy.”

Paul made a soft
mmmm
of sound. “I think I know where that is. Let me get my shoes. Ron was griping about one of the reapers not checking back in.”

“Arariel,” I said, and Paul made a grunt of acknowledgment.

“Yes, that's her. Hold on. I gotta tell Ron I'm going to bed.”

Hold on?
I wondered, but the phone made a high-pitched squeal. Yelping, I dropped it, scrambling to catch it and missing. “Sorry,” I said after I picked it up and gingerly put it back to my ear. “Paul? Paul, you there?”

But Paul wasn't there anymore, and I spun at a bright light that lit the graveyard. Ten feet away, a vertical line split the darkness, widening until a black shadow grew at its center. It was Paul, closing his phone as he stepped from one part of the world to the other as easily as crossing into another room. His smile widened as his unlaced dress shoes found the dew-wet grass and the bright line behind him closed in on itself and vanished.

Nodding respectfully to Barnabas and Nakita, he let his gaze linger on Demus, who was eyeing him with mistrust, then blinked in surprise when Josh pushed himself up from the pillar, obviously the odd man out, not being a reaper.

“Hi, Madison,” Paul said lightly as he tucked his dress shirt back in his Dockers, fully aware that I was as impressed as all hell. “Who are we saving tonight?”

Demus dropped back to take
in Paul. “Your aura is green?” he mocked, staring at the luminescent stone around Paul's neck. The glow of the stone was a reflection of Paul's aura, and it was indeed a bright, gold-laced green.

Paul dropped his eyes, his lips set tight as he ran a hand over his sandy-brown hair. He was embarrassed, and I didn't think it was because he was still wearing the rumpled clothes that he'd worn to school today. The stone he used to touch the divine should be shifting up the spectrum to a light timekeeper's red by now, but it was that sparkly, neutral green, as Demus had so inelegantly pointed out, that ebbed to a flat black even as I watched.

“You shut up.” Nakita threatened to smack him, and I cleared my throat. I thought it odd she was defending Paul, seeing as she didn't like him, but she
had
apologized to Paul for knocking him out once, so maybe it was part of her trying to understand. Barnabas, too, looked more uncomfortable now that Paul was here.

“You're not doing this!” Demus said, ignored, and I didn't like the look in his eye.

“I can't stay long,” Paul said, glancing at everyone, his gaze lingering on Josh questioningly.

“The rising light timekeeper should not be here!” Demus hissed, and I jerked when I felt him tap into the divine. Barnabas was already moving, his dark shadow darting across the open area to slam into the redheaded angel.

“Look out!” Nakita shouted, and I found myself on the ground, the air pushed out of my lungs and Nakita on top of me. Damn, she was fast! Blowing the hair out of my eyes, I wiggled to get a better look as Barnabas sat on Demus, a handful of red hair in his grip as he pulled Demus's head up. Paul had fallen back, knowing to get out of the way when angels fought, and Josh was behind that pillar again.

Barnabas lifted the chain around Demus's neck until he had his amulet in his possession. “Nakita, do you have any rope in that purse of yours?”

“Get off me, Nakita,” I wheezed. Yeah, my life was so glamorous, out after midnight among the tombstones, sweating and slapping at mosquitoes.

Nakita slipped off, and I took a huge gulp of air, sitting up to brush last week's dried grass clippings off me. Nice. I hadn't been in my new dark timekeeper clothes five minutes and I get them dirty. Josh extended a hand to help me up, and I took it gratefully.

“Thanks,” I said softly, my lips next to his ear. “And relax, will you? You look like he wants to be my boyfriend or something. He's just a guy.”

“Yeah?” Josh said as he watched me brush the last of the dirt off. “Just a guy who can do that amulet thing and walk through space.”

I grinned at him, appreciating that he felt jealous. “He's not the one who held my hand when I died,” I said, shifting my weight to bump into him. “And he's not the one who was there when I got my body back.”

Josh's shoulders eased, and he actually smiled, even when Paul came to stand at my other side. The two guys warily greeted each other as Nakita leaned against a stone and pulled her long stockings off.

“This is wrong!” Demus was shouting, and I looked at the dark street that suddenly seemed too close. “The seraphs need to know what you're doing! That grub is going to tell Ron. He's going to put a guardian angel on her!”

I had broken curfew too many times and gotten away with it to be cowed by what a seraph might think about me hanging out with my future adversary. They were the ones who picked me. If they couldn't handle my rebellious tendencies, then they should have picked someone else. Still . . . I watched the sky. Demus couldn't do much without his amulet, but there was no need to advertise.

“Here,” Nakita said as she handed Barnabas her white stockings. Barnabas tossed me the reaper's amulet, and I caught it, feeling the violet stone warm in my grip as both Paul and I looked down at it. I hadn't made it, but the amulet around my neck had been used in its construction, and it was as if the two stones were greeting each other.

“Get off!” Demus huffed as Barnabas yanked his arms back and tied his wrists. “Nakita,” he pleaded when Barnabas finished and got off him. “He's going to put a guardian angel on her. Nakita, stop this! You're traitors! Traitors!” he shouted.

Feet spread wide, Nakita stood over him as Barnabas yanked him into a seated position. “I told you to be quiet,” she said, bending provocatively to shove her last wadded-up stocking into his mouth. “And I'm not a traitor,” she added, looking unsure as she stepped back.

Paul gave me a look like he wanted to laugh but was afraid to. “Having problems with your reapers?”

My heart was pounding. Demus's face was as red as his hair. “He's new to my methods,” I said with a false lightness, then turned away as if it didn't bother me. But it did.

Paul grinned, reaching out a finger to poke my shoulder. “You're alive now?”

I couldn't help but smile back. “Yeah, so no scything me, okay?”

He laughed, pantomiming cutting through me with a blade, remembering our first meeting when he'd tried to kill me. I had been evil incarnate, according to him. Now I was hoping he saw us as colleagues . . . sort of. Glancing at Demus, Paul said, “I don't know exactly what you want me to do here.”

Excitement tingled to my toes. “Your amulet is strong enough to see the time lines, right?” I asked. “I mean, Ron didn't give you an amulet that couldn't, yes?”

Paul looked down at his green stone. “I can see them, sure. But that doesn't help you much. I don't have the slightest idea where to look.”

Barnabas gave Demus a nudge to be quiet. “What have you been doing the last three months?”

“Not this,” was Paul's quick, defensive answer, and Josh snorted.

“If you can bring the time lines up,” I said, “I can see them through your thoughts. I'll show you her resonance, like I would a reaper.”

Paul's eyes were wide. “You can do that? Show someone else what you're looking at?”

“It's how a timekeeper shows a reaper what soul to take,” I said, realizing that Ron hadn't told him that much. Sure, Paul could jump across space and make a sword from the divine, but he didn't know the first thing about his
job
. What was Ron waiting for?

“Like I said,” Barnabas muttered as he leaned toward me, “what
have
you been doing the last three months?”

I glared at Barnabas to be quiet. We needed Paul's help. “You want to try it?” I asked Paul. If he didn't, we were screwed.

Paul glanced at Josh, then me. “You, uh, won't be able to read my thoughts, will you?” he asked.

I looked at Nakita and Barnabas, not sure myself, and they shrugged. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. “I don't know. Paul, you're going to have to do this eventually,” I cajoled, and his eyes grew determined.

“Okay,” he said, sitting down on one of the stones.

Nakita made a tiny huff. Arms over her chest, she leaned toward Barnabas. “Why is it they both have to sit down to do stuff?”

Nervous, I sat across from Paul, feeling the damp go right through my thin clothes. I took three breaths, trying to center myself as Barnabas had taught me. It was a lot harder now that I was alive. I guessed that taking Paul's hand might improve the chances we could pull this off, but Josh was scowling again, and I didn't.

“Okay, I found it,” Paul said, his expression calm as he looked at his inner mindscape. “I found you.” His one eye cracked open as he compared my real aura with the one on the time line. “Found them,” he added, meaning the reapers, I guessed as he glanced at them. Then he cringed. “Madison, I have no idea what I'm looking at.”

“Hold on,” I said. Closing my eyes, I brought up my mindscape. As I feared, there wasn't much to look at, just that blurry haze of nothing.

“Try touching him,” Nakita said dryly, and Josh exhaled loudly.

“Okay,” I said, then reached for him.

“Hey!” he yelped.

I got a flash of bright light, and then it was gone. My eyes flew open, and I stared at Paul. He looked scared, his eyes wide in the dim light of the distant streetlamp. My heart pounded, and I realized my hand was fisted in my lap. “Are you okay?” I asked him as Barnabas grumbled.

“Yeah,” he said, clearly flustered. “It just surprised me. Let's try again.”

Demus made some muffled comment that we all ignored, and Paul reached for my fingers. Nervous, I took his hand. It was smooth in mine, and a little sweaty. Or maybe the sweat was from me.

Nakita snorted, and I gave her a dark look before closing my eyes. Immediately I was struck by how fuzzy everything still was. It was like going from high-def to normal TV. Or maybe taking your glasses off. The exquisite definition of everyone's life lines was muted and blurry. It was still easy to tell, though, where Paul and I were. Nakita, Barnabas, and Demus were even easier to find, their glows twining around us almost protectively.

Here,
I thought, not knowing if Paul could hear me, and I drifted my awareness down into the time lines until I found Tammy, not too far away, still alone, very alone, her new aura with the black-rimmed, orange center shining dully. Paul's bright glow was beside mine, and the reapers' auras, too. All we had to do now was find her in reality.

We can do this,
I thought with a resurgence of hope. My fingers tightened in Paul's grip, and he squeezed back. But before I could even relax my hold and break our connection, the entire line flashed blue.

Holy crap!
I thought, my grip tightening spasmodically.
It's a flash forward!

In an instant, Paul and I were alone. The reapers were gone. I could feel Paul's confusion, then fear as he realized something was wrong. His fingers loosened in mine, and I gripped them tighter, frantically trying to keep him with me. If he let go, we'd lose it.

It's a flash forward!
I thought, trying to maintain my grip on his fingers and my sight on the line.
I can't see if you leave!

I had probably been trying to flash forward all night, but my connection had been too weak. Now, with Paul, it was enough. I was desperate to see Tammy's future, and it was with a huge sigh of relief that I felt Paul's confusion turn to excitement. His fingers in mine wiggled, and around us, the line became a darker blue, almost black. With a curious flipping sensation, we were out of the present, and in . . .

Tammy,
I thought, familiar with the sensation of being in someone else's mind, a silent observer as a myriad of moments flitted through someone else's consciousness. At least this time she wasn't in a burning apartment.

The softness of sheets was what I noticed first, then Paul's presence next to mine. His quicksilver thoughts were jumping from idea to idea, his excitement contagious. Knowing it wouldn't help, I willed Tammy to open her eyes. And she did.

The shock of that reverberated through me, and I took in the too-narrow, propped-up bed, the industrial-looking built-in counter and drawers, the blank TV fixed high to the wall, and the long, ugly table on wheels. There was an oversize cup on it, the straw bent away, and a single get-well card. The sun was up, but it wasn't coming in the open window that had a view of a brick wall. I couldn't tell if we were two stories up, or thirty. The hazy blue indicating a far-distant flash forward hung on the edges of my vision, and I realized Tammy was squinting as I struggled to get a clearer view.

When are we?
I heard Paul ask, another surprise, but I didn't think Tammy heard since she didn't react.

I don't know. A few days from now? A week maybe? No more than that,
I guessed.

And then a new thought intruded, clear and resolved.
I'm dying.

My heart gave a jump, and I felt Paul's grip tighten in mine when Tammy moved her hand above the sheets. It was horribly thin, the skin pale and almost transparent, looking too weak to even tie a shoelace. A bruise was around her wrist where someone had gripped her, and her fingernails were painted a bright red, garish against the white sheets. An ache filled our entire body, as if in a fever, and I wondered if she had been beaten. The blue haze surrounding everything put it a few days ahead at most, but there was no way she could lose this much weight that fast, and I wondered why the vision was so clear. We must be months, maybe years ahead.

The breath labored in our chest, and I felt a tear slide down Tammy's cheek. Inside, I could feel her pulse becoming erratic, and a weird tingling rose up from her toes. She said she was dying. She might be right.

A feeling of worthlessness had filled our joined thoughts as the sound of traffic came in the open, small window set in the large pane of glass. She was alone, but that was not why she cried. Regret. Regret for words not said, for thoughts left unspoken, for actions not taken, and challenges not acknowledged. And only now, at the end, did she understand what she had lost by shutting out the good things and living her life without love. Even her brother, who she had turned away so often that he had quit trying.

Tammy, it's okay,
I thought, trying to reach her.
It's not too late!

But only Paul heard me.

My chest clenched in heartache as she thought of drawings she never began and poems stopped with only one phrase—afraid of what others would think. There were trips not taken and friends never joined, chances to make someone else happy that she ignored, thinking that it made her stronger, when all it did was eat away at her soul.

“I wish . . .” she breathed, her head turning to the window and the dismal brick wall. “I wish . . .”

But it was too late, and I felt a lump in my throat as a small glint of dust glittering in the corner took on the familiar glow. It was a guardian angel weeping sunbeams, and I wondered if this was why the far flash forward was so clear.