Early to Death, Early to Rise - Kim Harrison [42]
“Where’s Nakita?” I asked when he didn’t move, still sitting on the van’s bench seat and looking at me as if I were going to break apart. “If I saw the future, then Shoe has made his decision, and his fate is set unless I can change his mind. I’ve got to talk to him before he does something stupid or Ron IDs him.”
Barnabas took my arm, drawing me back. “Madison, slow down. You’re not well.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, feeling shaky as I tugged on the door and it didn’t move. “But Ron can tell who the mark is now. He sees what I see, right? If we don’t find Shoe before whatever light reaper Ron sends out does, Nakita will kill him. Barnabas, I’ve run out of time!”
The irony of that wasn’t lost on me, and I tugged on the latch, but either I wasn’t doing it right or it had a child lock on it. Huffing in impatience, I leaned back in the seat and said, “Some help here, please?”
Silent and grim faced, he reached across me and pulled the door open. I’d been doing it right; I was just too weak.
I stumbled when I jumped to the curb, and I couldn’t help but glance at the puddle of streetlight to reassure myself it was a cheerful yellow instead of an inky blue-black. “Where is the school from here?” I asked. If she killed him, I’m going to be so pissed. I have not gone through this for nothing.
“You’ll never make it in time on foot,” Barnabas said, and I gasped when he scooped me up, cradling me as he gave one downward thrust with his wings, and we were airborne.
Nine
Barnabas’s arms were tight around me as he flew over what had to be the high school. While Nakita and I had been trying to pass my dad’s spaghetti off on Josh, Barnabas had been canvassing the town of Fort Banks, a foresight I was now reaping the benefit of. The flat, pebbled roof with its big air-conditioning units was featureless in the dark. It smelled like tar, and the air grew warmer when he drifted over it and found the back of the school with its big expanse of parking lot.
“Do you see Nakita?” I asked, scanning for any sign of her, Shoe, or even Grace.
“No,” he said softly, and I hoped we weren’t too late.
“Do you think I should try calling her?” I asked, and he shifted the tilt of his wings to make us fly parallel to the rows of black windows along the side.
“I’d have to stop hiding your resonance and hope she is doing the same. Ron might hear,” he said, finishing softly, “Better to just look.”
“I suppose,” I said, frustrated.
“No black wings,” Barnabas said, making me think that there had been when I flashed forward, and he just hadn’t told me.
“Yet,” I said sourly. A darting motion attracted my attention, and I pointed. “There!” I said, but Barnabas had seen it, too. It was Shoe, halfway through a low window with one foot inside, one on the sill. Nakita was talking to him from outside, having probably surprised him. The faint, softball-size glow over her was likely Grace. The dark reaper didn’t have her sword out, but I could tell by Grace’s haze that things were not going well.
Barnabas angled away, and, startled, I yelled, “Where are you going?”
“I don’t want him to see me with my wings,” he said, and Grace, who had clearly heard me, darted up and our way.
“Barnabas, I’m trying to convince him he needs to change his life or risk being cut down by an angel. Land where he can freaking see you! You can always change his memory.”
Making a grunt of understanding, he shifted his course, wings beating three times to cushion our landing on the pavement.
“He’s here! You need to hurry!” Grace said, her haze looking dim against the stars as she flew in circles around us. My hair flew straight up from the gust of Barnabas’s wings. “She chased him inside!”
I stumbled away from Barnabas as my feet found the earth, tugging my skirt down where it should be. Nakita had vaulted inside, but