“Hi, Mr. A,” Barnabas said, sounding completely normal. “I know it’s late, but I have to take Nakita home.”

A pang of guilt struck me, and I winced when my dad’s silhouette eclipsed the light and his rumbling voice said, “I thought she was spending the night. Come on in.”

“She was,” Barnabas said as he wiped his feet and went inside. “But she didn’t—”

The door shut, and I never heard the lie.

“Gabriel’s broken feathers,” Nakita swore, glancing at the window. “Now I have to go make an appearance. Madison, will you be okay?”

“Sure,” I said, hefting Paul’s sword. “Just don’t take too long.” I was going to give Paul his sword back as soon as she got out of sight. If he tried anything after that, Grace would keep him tripping over his own feet.

Unaware of my plans, Nakita gave him a vehement look to behave. Slipping out past the garage roof, she jumped almost straight up, grabbing the overhang of the garage and swinging herself up like a star athlete. It was how I got up there, but I needed the trash can to do it. I was a lot less graceful, too. Getting to her feet, she brushed the grit from her jeans and made the short hop to my window. I heard, more than saw, her slip inside. Alone at last…

“If he tries anything,” Grace said from beside me, “I’m going to sic Sandy on him.”

I didn’t want to know how she was planning on getting Sandy past the fence. It might involve lightning. Exhaling a breath I’d probably taken two minutes ago, I looked Paul over. “Here,” I said, handing him his sword, the point down. “Sorry. Nakita is a little intense.”

“Madison!” Grace exclaimed, turning three shades brighter, and I ignored her.

Sure enough, Paul didn’t make the smart decision. “I won’t let you kill again!” he shouted, and I sprang away as he leaped forward, my back hitting the side of the garage. Something that felt like cold, black feathers slid through me, and I gasped.

“Hey!” I yelled as I realized he had taken a swing at me. “What’s your problem, dude?” I exclaimed, ticked as Sandy barked furiously.

Grace was laughing, her voice rising up out of my range of hearing as her glow wildly shifted through the spectrum. I, though, failed to see the humor.

Paul was staring at me, his sword tight in his grip as the rain made trails down his face. “I hit you! I know I hit you!” he said, sounding betrayed. “It went right through you, and you’re okay! You really are dead!”

“You think?” I said sharply as I tugged at my shirt to see if he’d cut it. Grace was rolling on the grass, a violent red as she laughed. “You want to be dead, too? Just keep it up, you nutcase. What the devil is wrong with you?”

Still he stared, backing up until he hit the fence. Sandy jumped at him, and he took a distracted step forward, wet dog prints probably all over his back. “Ron said you were,” he stammered.

“He does occasionally tell the truth.” Fortunately Paul’s sword was designed to sever souls, not cloth. My shirt was okay. “Do you have any idea how much this cost me?” I asked, relieved I wouldn’t have to explain a foot-long tear to my dad. “Just because you run around looking like Luke Skywalker doesn’t mean the rest of us want to dress in rags!”

“Paul was a rising timekeeper, who wanted to be like a reaper. He swung his big sword, like a medieval lord, and it made him look like a creep-er.”

“That almost makes sense, Grace,” I said, and she found the air again. She glowed softly, and a sifting of dust fell from her as she got rid of the rain dampening her wings.

Paul’s eyes darted around when he realized I wasn’t as alone as I looked. Unsure, he was silent until our eyes met. “You’re not what I thought you’d be.”

I shrugged, leaning back against the garage to stay out of the rain and crossing my arms over my chest until I realized it made me look vulnerable, and I put my thumbs in my pockets instead. “Ron told you I was death on roller skates?” I said, still huffy over the sword thing. “Did he tell you that he lied to me about who I was? After I was dead and everything? Did he tell you how he hid my existence from the seraphs so they couldn’t give me my body back and I couldn’t go back to living? I’m dead, Paul, and it sucks.”

Paul dropped his eyes. Grace, too, was silent, probably remembering her part in all of it. Ron had used her as well. A soft roll of thunder came distantly, and the streetlight shone on Paul’s wet hair. It looked black now, but when I’d seen him in the desert, it had been brown.

“I didn’t want to be the dark timekeeper,” I said, and his lips pressed together as if he didn’t believe me. “I still don’t. I could have gotten my body back right then and given this thing up.” I showed him my amulet, wanting him to see how much older mine looked than his. I might not know how to use it, but it was a lot more powerful than the one Ron had made him. “But Ron didn’t tell anyone, and by the time the truth came out, Kairos had died and it was too late. Ron told you about him, right?”

“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.