Early to Death, Early to Rise - Kim Harrison [68]
“I’m not hungry anymore!” I wailed, and Nakita blinked at me. “Don’t you get it?” I cried, looking down at my amulet. “I was eating because my amulet wasn’t working right. Ron fixed it, and now I’m not hungry anymore!”
“Thank God for small favors,” Barnabas muttered as he pulled himself upright. “It was really gross, Madison.”
Depressed, I sank back down. “But I like eating,” I said mournfully. Darn it, it wasn’t fair! Unhappy, I fingered a French fry. Grace dropped down, warming my hand as she offered condolences the only way she could—until she thought up a poem, that was.
“There once was a girl who liked fries,” Grace started, and Barnabas made an exasperated sound.
“Your wallet, Madison?” Nakita offered.
“Yeah, right.” I muttered, and I stood.
“Sorry, Madison,” Shoe said, clearly not understanding why fries were so important to me, but knowing I was upset.
“It’s okay.” Head down, I angled toward the door, slowing as my amulet seemed to grow heavy, warm almost, but a sudden thought pulled me to a stop. How had Nakita known my wallet was in the truck?
Suspicious, I spun back to the table, my guess borne out when I saw Barnabas’s eyes had silvered.
“What…wait!” I exclaimed, lurching back to the table. “Shoe! Don’t look at him!”
Barnabas’s head swiveled to me. A drop of fear slid through me at his alien eyes, silver and glowing with a holy light. Across the table from him, Shoe gasped, breaking the grip Barnabas had on him and dropping his head. Ace was already staring vacantly, his lips parted, clearly still under Barnabas’s influence.
“Madison!” Barnabas barked, eyes still glowing as Shoe rubbed his face and blinked.
I tugged Shoe up and out of the booth. “Not Shoe,” I said. “I promised him he could remember.”
Barnabas’s jaw clenched and his brow furrowed. “Madison…” he grumbled, his eyes again a steady brown.
“Yeah, that’s my name,” I said hotly. “Mad Madison. I say Shoe can remember, and I’m your boss.”
Grace made a long oooooh sound, and the second guardian angel on the light fixture went quiet, her wings stilling to make her vanish. Barnabas’s eyes narrowed as he turned in the seat and looked me up and down. “No, you’re not,” he said, and Nakita scuffed her feet behind me. “I’m grim. Anytime I want, I’m out of here.”
He wouldn’t, I thought, panicking. “Oh, yeah?” I said, almost daring him.
“Yeah,” Barnabas said, clearly not happy.
Beside me, Shoe looked frightened. I took a slow breath, trying to find some way to keep from alienating Barnabas. He’d been there when I had died, tried to save me, believed in me. I trusted him, and he was probably the only person who might really understand me.
“Yeah,” I said more softly. “Okay. I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m not your boss.” I turned to Nakita, seeing her eyes wide and frightened. “Nakita, I’m not yours, either, but this is my scythe, and I want Shoe to remember.”
“Yes, you are,” Nakita said immediately, the surety of her voice making Shoe frown. “I’m sworn to your will and your bidding.”
I was sooooo glad that Ace was out of it. It was embarrassing enough having Shoe hear this. “My being your boss is not the world I want to live in,” I said, trying to make her understand. Pleading now, I looked back to the table. “Barnabas, I told Shoe I’d let him remember tonight. Please.”
“I didn’t promise him,” he said tightly, but the anger directed toward me was gone.
“Please,” I tried again.
Barnabas seemed to grow smaller as he exhaled, hands gesturing loosely. “I can’t let him run around knowing what happened! It just isn’t done!”
“Why not?” I asked bluntly. “How are people supposed to make a change in their lives if they don’t remember? Dreams? That’s poppycock.”
“Poppycock?” Nakita echoed, clearly confused.
“I want Shoe and Ace both to remember,” I decided suddenly. “No fake memories for either of them.”
Barnabas looked at Ace, who was