Early to Death, Early to Rise - Kim Harrison [34]
“The old timekeeper,” Paul said. “You killed him?”
“What part of not being a murderer doesn’t he get here?” Grace muttered, and I felt a wash of warmth fill me as she landed on my shoulder.
“No,” I said. “Nakita scythed him when she found out that he had lied to her and that I was his replacement. She didn’t like that he was trying to go against seraph will by killing me. You know what it’s like to have someone trying to kill you?”
I pushed myself forward from the wall of the garage, and he took a half step back. “No.”
“It happens to me all the time.”
Paul looked at his sword, and Grace took off from my shoulder. For an instant, the sword glowed its entire length. Then it was gone and his hand was empty. A glitter of gold swam in the depths of his amulet, and then that, too, went dark and quiescent. It was just a flat black stone.
“Why did you come here?” I asked, feeling almost depressed. This guy hated me, and he didn’t even know me.
Paul looked to the street, then to me. “Ron said you claimed you were trying to save someone. But it’s your job to send reapers to end lives early. I wanted to see for myself.”
He hadn’t believed Ron. More curious.
Grace’s wings blurred into existence, and she whispered, “I told you I wasn’t spying on you. The seraphs fated him to meet you tonight, and I was sent to make sure you both survived.”
Oh, really? That was…disturbing. Filing that away, I straightened. “And?” I asked.
Behind him, Sandy quietly sat in the rain, her tail getting muddier as she waved it in the dirt. “Well, you are the dark timekeeper,” he said sullenly.
“Being dark does not mean bad,” I said hotly. “Light is for human choice, easily seen. Dark is for hidden seraph fate, no choice to glean.” I took a slow breath. He could leave now if he wanted to—the fact that he hadn’t said a lot. Or maybe it just meant he wanted something. “My name is Madison,” I said in case Ron hadn’t told him.
He hesitated, then cautiously said, “I’m Paul.”
“And I’m Grace. Put a smile on your face. For the whole human race. Get off Madison’s case. There’s got to be a poem in there somewhere,” Grace muttered, rising up and away.
I felt alone. Paul looked silly standing there in the rain, his hair plastered to his forehead and water dripping from his hem. “Do me a favor, Paul,” I said. “Tell Ron I want him to back off. I’m trying to save this guy. Ron’s butting in is what will trip Nakita into…ah, doing her thing,” I finished, not wanting to say “killing him.” “Whether you think so or not, I believe in choice as much as you do.”
Paul laughed bitterly. “Choice? Dark timekeepers don’t believe in choice.”
“Yes, I know,” I moaned. “But there it is, okay? I’m trying to find a way to do my job in a way that doesn’t go against all I believe in. Give me a break, will you?” I was getting frustrated, and the more agitated I got, the more confident he became—even soaking wet and standing in the rain.
Water slipping down his neck, he said, “Why not just tell me who the mark is, and we can put a guardian angel on him?”
I thought back to Nakita’s words not an hour ago, and felt ill. If I had promised her not to, would I have said yes now? “Is that your answer?” I said, wishing Barnabas would hurry up. “Put a guardian angel on him? Can you think any more short-term? Besides, the guy is slime, Paul. He is going to cause a lot of pain and heartache for kicks unless something happens to change his path.”
“Then you’ve flashed forward,” he said softly.
“No,” I said, not liking to admit that I wasn’t capable of doing real timekeeper stuff. “The seraphs told me.”
“And you believe them.” His expression was ugly, as if the seraphs were