Once Dead, Twice Shy - Kim Harrison [18]
I was screwing this up royally. “It’s not my dad; it’s my neighbor,” I said.
“Mrs. Walsh?” Josh asked, startling me.
“You’ve heard of her?” I said, finding myself grinning at his understanding smile. He nodded. “My friend Parker lives on your street. That woman goes through his garbage to pull out the recyclables. Creepy old bat.”
“That’s awful.” Feeling better, I dropped my eyes. “I didn’t expect to get a flat tire. I mean, it’s only five miles to my house…you know.” Puffing beside Josh with the bike between us, I glanced at him, wishing I hadn’t yelled at the guardian angel. Josh was silent as we reached the top, and as soon as we were both on level ground, I reached for the handlebars, nervously trying not to touch his fingers. “Thanks,” I said as I looked at his truck parked on the side of the road. He was going north, and I was going south, into town. “I think I can get it from here.”
Josh’s hands slipped from the chrome. “Is everything okay? You’re kind of jittery.”
I jerked the bike from him. “I’m fine. Why?”
He shoved his glasses up. “Your hair is wet, and I know you weren’t on the track. Did someone give you a swirly or something? You’re acting like my sister when she’s in trouble and the world is out to get her.”
I felt cornered, and my pace quickened. “No more trouble than usual,” I said with false cheerfulness. A car whizzed by. It was the last of the track team. Cripes, I missed my car. Josh was silent, his steps slowing as we got farther from his truck. “Look, I know how dads can be. Mine keeps such a tight leash on me I can’t take a leak without him checking to see that I washed my hands.”
Halting, I looked up. “It’s not my dad. He’s cool.”
“What is your problem?” Josh said. “I’m just trying to help.”
My eyebrows rose when the ball of light made a kissing sound. “He’s trying to he-e-eelp,” it crooned, and Josh shivered when it landed on his shoulder. Great, the thing belonged to the cupid union. This was not what I needed.
“I’m fine. Really. Thanks,” I said shortly, shoving my bike through the loose gravel.
“Well, I’m not,” he said darkly, and I kept going. “Listen, I’m not trying to hit on you, but I’ve been having these dreams about you for the last three weeks and it’s freaking me out.”
I stopped, unable to turn around. He’s dreaming about me?
“There once was a poet from Plunket—”
I swung at the angel as if going for a fly, and with a little ping of sensation, I hit it. It arced across the road with a faint yelp, and I stared at Josh. He’s dreaming about me?
“Never mind,” he said, turning away. “I gotta go.”
“Josh.”
He waved his hand at me, but he didn’t look back as he trudged over to his truck.
“Josh?” I called again, then stiffened at the shadow that raced over the ground between us. My eyes went up as fear sliced through me. A black wing. Here? What the devil?
“Josh!” I shouted. Son of a dead puppy. Somewhere in my town, a reaper walked. Hunting. Hunting me? But Ron had changed my resonance!
The sour tinkling of bells told me my angel had returned. “How long is a cubit?” I asked the angel breathlessly as Josh neared his truck.
“About a foot and a half,” it said tightly. “You got grass stains on my dress. You’re a nasty person, you know that?”
Dress? It’s a girl, then.
“Why?” she asked, and then she tinkled in understanding. “Oh, nice. Black wings. Don’t worry. They can’t sense you if I’m nearby. I’ve got a field of immunity. It’s like you’re not even there.”
“Yeah, I’ve got it too,” I said. “But if they can’t sense me, then why are they here?”
“Him, I think. Yes. Him. Someone’s hunting him.”
My eyes widened. Him? She means Josh? Why? And then I got it. My amulet resonance had been changed too late. Nakita had followed me back, at least as far as Three Rivers, but lost me when Ron shifted things. And since neither she nor Kairos would stand on a street corner and wait for me to walk by, they were trying to find me by hunting someone I might be with. Kairos had met Josh at the prom. Talked to him. Saw him and his aura. They were tracking me down through Josh—the only person