Early to Death, Early to Rise - Kim Harrison [33]
“Sure,” I said, hefting Paul’s sword. “Just don’t take too long.” I was going to give Paul his sword back as soon as she got out of sight. If he tried anything after that, Grace would keep him tripping over his own feet.
Unaware of my plans, Nakita gave him a vehement look to behave. Slipping out past the garage roof, she jumped almost straight up, grabbing the overhang of the garage and swinging herself up like a star athlete. It was how I got up there, but I needed the trash can to do it. I was a lot less graceful, too. Getting to her feet, she brushed the grit from her jeans and made the short hop to my window. I heard, more than saw, her slip inside. Alone at last…
“If he tries anything,” Grace said from beside me, “I’m going to sic Sandy on him.”
I didn’t want to know how she was planning on getting Sandy past the fence. It might involve lightning. Exhaling a breath I’d probably taken two minutes ago, I looked Paul over. “Here,” I said, handing him his sword, the point down. “Sorry. Nakita is a little intense.”
“Madison!” Grace exclaimed, turning three shades brighter, and I ignored her.
Sure enough, Paul didn’t make the smart decision. “I won’t let you kill again!” he shouted, and I sprang away as he leaped forward, my back hitting the side of the garage. Something that felt like cold, black feathers slid through me, and I gasped.
“Hey!” I yelled as I realized he had taken a swing at me. “What’s your problem, dude?” I exclaimed, ticked as Sandy barked furiously.
Grace was laughing, her voice rising up out of my range of hearing as her glow wildly shifted through the spectrum. I, though, failed to see the humor.
Paul was staring at me, his sword tight in his grip as the rain made trails down his face. “I hit you! I know I hit you!” he said, sounding betrayed. “It went right through you, and you’re okay! You really are dead!”
“You think?” I said sharply as I tugged at my shirt to see if he’d cut it. Grace was rolling on the grass, a violent red as she laughed. “You want to be dead, too? Just keep it up, you nutcase. What the devil is wrong with you?”
Still he stared, backing up until he hit the fence. Sandy jumped at him, and he took a distracted step forward, wet dog prints probably all over his back. “Ron said you were,” he stammered.
“He does occasionally tell the truth.” Fortunately Paul’s sword was designed to sever souls, not cloth. My shirt was okay. “Do you have any idea how much this cost me?” I asked, relieved I wouldn’t have to explain a foot-long tear to my dad. “Just because you run around looking like Luke Skywalker doesn’t mean the rest of us want to dress in rags!”
“Paul was a rising timekeeper, who wanted to be like a reaper. He swung his big sword, like a medieval lord, and it made him look like a creep-er.”
“That almost makes sense, Grace,” I said, and she found the air again. She glowed softly, and a sifting of dust fell from her as she got rid of the rain dampening her wings.
Paul’s eyes darted around when he realized I wasn’t as alone as I looked. Unsure, he was silent until our eyes met. “You’re not what I thought you’d be.”
I shrugged, leaning back against the garage to stay out of the rain and crossing my arms over my chest until I realized it made me look vulnerable, and I put my thumbs in my pockets instead. “Ron told you I was death on roller skates?” I said, still huffy over the sword thing. “Did he tell you that he lied to me about who I was? After I was dead and everything? Did he tell you how he hid my existence from the seraphs so they couldn’t give me my body back and I couldn’t go back to living? I’m dead, Paul, and it sucks.”
Paul dropped his eyes. Grace, too, was silent, probably remembering her part in all of it. Ron had used her as well. A soft roll of thunder came distantly, and the streetlight shone on Paul’s wet hair. It looked black now, but when I’d seen him in the desert, it had been brown.
“I didn’t want to be the dark timekeeper,” I said, and his lips pressed together