Oooh, nice. “New plan. Don’t give him his sword,” I said, and he retreated into the shadow of the garage and closer to Sandy. The friendly dog began to dig at the fence.

“See? He’s rude,” Nakita said as she handed me his sword and Paul stiffened.

Paul’s sword felt heavy in my grip, kind of tingly, but I knew better than to swing it and tell him I didn’t know how to use it. I’d never seen such a pretty stone, though, the green gleam in the hilt matching his amulet perfectly, flecks of gold running through it like a cat’s eye.

The guy pulled himself together, clearly not liking my holding it. “I’m not the one killing people for choices they make and deeds they haven’t done yet.”

“Who, me or her?” Nakita asked.

I shot a look at the open window in my room. “Will you keep it down? My dad’s inside,” I said, but neither of them was listening. Paul’s eyes were still on his sword. Oh, yeah. He wanted it badly. “Where’s Ron?” I asked him with a sudden thought, and his face lost its expression. It was dark, but I could still see his face in the faint light from the front porch. The sound of rain grew heavier, and a light mist started to hiss through the leaves, reaching us.

Beside me, Nakita made a small noise of pleasure. “He fears,” she said, lifting the point of her sword, and he took another step back toward the fence. “I know fear. I know it better than any reaper ever having taken wing. Chronos doesn’t know you’re here, and you’re afraid.” She looked at me, lips quirking. “He reminds me of you. Impulsive.”

Gee, thanks, I thought, and Ron’s apprentice stiffened.

“I’m nothing like you!” he claimed, then sent his gaze skyward to the sound of wings.

It was Barnabas—Grace, too—and my shoulders eased. The scent of sunflowers suddenly filled the heavy air. A flash of light lit the night, and a crack of thunder rolled over us. Lightning. Yeah, that would finish this off nicely.

“We’re good! It’s okay!” I said as loudly as I dared, glancing at the bright square of my second-story window. The last thing I needed was another scythe pulled.

Grace made three circles around Nakita and me before darting up into the tree. Paul never looked at her. Curious…

Nakita tightened her grip on her sword as Barnabas landed in the street. His wings vanished, and looking like himself in a faded tee, jeans, and the gray duster he sometimes wore, he ambled casually across the grass. Sandy’s complaints grew loud, her tail brushing the ground like mad and making Paul shift uneasily.

“I know who you are,” Paul said to Barnabas, backing up to the fence until the dog jumped at him to make the chain link rattle. “You’ve gone grim. Filthy turncoat. You’re worse even than them.”

“He’s rude!” Grace said. “That’s why I made him fall off the roof, to make a big ‘oof’!”

I knew Paul’s accusation bothered Barnabas, but he seemed unaffected, his pace never faltering as he came even with us…and then continued forward. Paul paled. Looking scared, he backed up along the fence, but Barnabas was after the dog, who cheerfully licked him when he murmured a soft greeting to her and pushed his fingers through the chain link.

“Well, well, well,” he said lightly as he dried his fingers on his shirt and reached for the unfamiliar sword in my grip. A tingle went through me as he took it, and I shivered. “Look who slipped his leash,” he added, studying the green jewel. “You’re Ron’s replacement, aren’t you? Rising timekeeper?”

Paul stubbornly didn’t say anything, but it was obvious he was.

“I told you he was,” Grace blurted gleefully. “The seraphs saw him leave and sent me to watch him. I was not spying on Madison. I knew Madison would be okay with Nakita.” The angel flew circles around me. “Really, Madison. I wasn’t.”

“I believe you,” I said, and I swear, her wings grew so bright Paul had to notice her. But he didn’t, his flicking gaze telling me he thought I was talking to Barnabas.

“He fell off the roof,” Nakita said. “He’s just as reckless as Madison. It’s going to be a very difficult next hundred years until they figure out what they’re doing.”

Paul frowned. I wasn’t so pleased about it, either.

Grace lit up. “Oh!” she exclaimed, finally realizing that Paul had no clue she was there. “He can’t see me? Why not?” She darted down to hover before his amulet. “There once was a keeper named Ron, who had the smarts of a prawn. An amulet he made, to his student then gave, but its powers were somewhat a yawn.”

Ron gave Paul an inferior amulet? Why am I not surprised? Nakita was laughing, and even Barnabas snickered. “How come you were on my roof?” I asked, eyes fixed on the sparkling jewel as Barnabas turned the blade so it caught the dim light from the front porch.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Barnabas said, starting to wield the sword, testing the blade’s balance with a series of rapid, intricate swings almost too fast to follow, his duster furling as he moved. I was used to the angel’s proficiency, but Paul was staring with openmouthed awe. The sword had been created by Paul’s amulet, and until he drew the energy back into the stone, his amulet would be diminished. I’d once taken control of Nakita’s amulet by seizing her sword. Paul had a right to be concerned.

“Give me back my sword!” Paul said, and Barnabas looked him up and down as he stopped swinging. The anger in Barnabas’s eyes was new, and I didn’t like seeing it there.

“Why were you on the dark timekeeper’s roof?” Barnabas demanded, and I realized how much it had bothered him. It bothered me, too, and standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Nakita, we pinned Paul against the fence. Behind him, Sandy whined. It was starting to rain in earnest, and I swear I could smell wet feathers.

Paul was silent, his eyes glinting in the lamplight as his chin rose. I put a hand on my hip, almost ready to let Nakita have her way, when a faint voice from inside shouted, “Madison?”

Crap, it was my dad. Wincing, I looked up at my bright window. It had sounded like he’d called from downstairs, but that could change really fast.

“I’ll take care of it,” Barnabas said as he handed me Paul’s sword. It was warm in my grip, slick from the rain, and again I was struck by how wrong it felt in my grasp. After giving a warning look to Nakita for her to behave, Barnabas jogged to the front door and rang the bell.

“Get back in the shadows,” Nakita hissed, and I shifted to stand in the narrow overhang of the garage. This was where I usually got onto the roof when sneaking back in, and I fumbled for the two dog biscuits I had on the garage windowsill, throwing one over the fence to keep Sandy occupied while my dad answered the door. Paul ducked as the dog treat went sailing over his head, the tips of his hair dripping.

“You can’t touch me,” he said to Nakita, though he, too, looked anxious not to get caught.

“She can outright kill you,” I said bluntly, and Grace sighed heavily. “It was a reaper blade that killed me.”

Paul’s eyes widened, and Nakita smirked. “Didn’t know that, did you?” she whispered as my dad opened the front door and Barnabas said hello.

“There once was a man with an ego,” Grace sang softly, slowly losing altitude until she landed on the filthy windowsill, “who thought that he was a big hero. Like a dark reaper, he scythed a timekeeper. But it only made him a big zero.”

She was talking about Kairos, the timekeeper whose amulet I now had. He’d not only tried to kill me to retain the position, but he’d killed his predecessor to gain the title early.

Paul was properly cowed, so I edged to the front of the garage to peek around the corner. A shaft of light spilled out into the dreary night, illuminating Barnabas and seeming to make him glow around the edges. I knew it was my imagination, but my dad looked pale by comparison.