“This is what you do on a reap?” I said, glancing down at Barnabas. “Spy on people?”

“I spot ’em and stick ’em,” Nakita said, rustling the bushes as she came closer.

Eyes never leaving Shoe, Barnabas slid over to make room for her. “It’s a reap prevention, not a reap,” he said softly. “I’m not sure what to do, and there’s nothing wrong with watching until we get an idea.”

A soft sound, almost a growl, slipped from Nakita as she put her back to the house. “There are a hundred possible accidents in that room,” she said. “I can make it look as if his power cord frayed and he electrocuted himself.”

“No!” both Barnabas and I exclaimed softly.

Shoe looked up from his keyboard, hearing us maybe. I dropped back and Barnabas dragged Nakita off to the other side. The sleepy music grew louder, but it wasn’t until the clack of keys resumed that we relaxed and looked around the window again.

“You are not going to kill him!” Barnabas said, and she put her camera in her purse, frowning as she zipped it up.

“You have no idea how good I’m being,” Nakita whispered, watching Shoe hit the print button, then lean to catch the paper as it shot out. “Chronos could have followed us here. If I get one whiff of him, I swear, I’m going to kill him.”

Who, Ron or Shoe? I thought, eyeing Shoe. The guy was a total geek, but that didn’t make him scythe-worthy. What the seraphs claimed just didn’t fit with what I’d seen tonight. I’d watched him help his younger brother with a handheld game earlier, and he hadn’t taken it away to show him what to do—instead, he walked the ten-year-old through the problem.

“I’d like to see you try,” Barnabas said, not shifting his gaze from Shoe’s room.

Nakita huffed, and I rolled my eyes. Not again… “You can’t stop me,” she said haughtily, a little too loudly for my liking. “This is what we do. Get used to it or leave. You’re the new angel here. Not me.”

Barnabas turned, his expression peeved. “That’s a good idea,” he said sourly. “Kill Shoe and blow to stardust Madison’s chance to do things her way.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Ron could be watching us right now. I’m not going to let him put a guardian angel on Shoe!”

Oh, ma-a-a-an. They were going to make enough noise to bring Shoe to the window. It wasn’t the introduction I really wanted. “Actually,” I said before Barnabas could come back with anything, “Nakita has a valid concern.”

The leaves rustled, and Barnabas turned to me. “What?”

Not meeting his eyes, I looked up at Nakita. “Why don’t you make a couple of circles to make sure Ron or Paul isn’t watching us?”

Barnabas hid his smile a shade too late. Nakita saw it, and she stiffened. “You’re getting rid of me,” she accused.

“Well, yeah,” I said, not wanting to lie to her. She’d been lied to enough. “But you’re right. Someone should keep watch. I pick you.”

Her brow furrowed, and as her eyes shifted to silver for an instant, she said, “Fine,” and stalked away.

I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck in a show of nervous relief as she found her wings, and, with a downward thrust that sent grass clippings flying, she put herself in the air.

Barnabas stood and stretched. “Does ‘fine’ mean the same thing when Nakita says it as when you do?”

“Yup.” Glancing back at Shoe, I felt a moment of uselessness. “He’s just filling out college applications. Barnabas, Shoe is as exciting as oatmeal. Are you sure we’re watching the right person? Even if he is a computer genius, he doesn’t seem the kind of guy who’s after anonymous notoriety by killing people.”

Barnabas eased closer, and the scent of the back side of the clouds slid over me. “Think so?” he whispered. “He’s bringing up a hidden folder.”

Suddenly a lot more interested, I looked in to find Shoe still sitting at his computer. Squinting, I read, operation vacation, at the top of the new window. “Sounds innocuous enough,” I said softly.

Barnabas rumbled deep in his chest, shifting his weight to his other foot. “Remember what Grace said? The school’s computer is infected first. Vacation? As in shutting down the school and gaining a day or two off?”

Ooooooh, not good. Still, I wasn’t convinced, even as Shoe popped one of Ace’s decorated CDs into the laptop. “I’ve got to talk to him. Now.”

Barnabas turned to me with wide eyes. “Did you see that?” he asked. “The disc had a black wing on it!”

He looked shocked, and I waved a hand in dismissal. “Sorry. I meant to tell you. It’s Ace,” I said, sending my gaze back into the gray and white bedroom. “He’s an artist. Isn’t it creepy? He got the idea for the melting crow from Shoe.”

“‘Creepy’ is not the word I’d use,” Barnabas grumped, resettling himself.

I watched as Shoe leaned back in his chair as the disc burned. Why he didn’t put it on a jump drive escaped me. Maybe he was going to sneak it into school disguised as music?

Why am I still sitting here? I asked myself suddenly. He was loading the virus. What did I need to see him do? Plug it in? “I’m going to talk to him,” I said, gathering myself and pushing through the bushes to get to the front yard.

The branches scraped against my arms, and I halted when a pair of headlights lit the quiet street. They looked…blue. Not the headlights themselves, but the light.

“Hold up,” Barnabas whispered as he pushed out to stand beside me, but I felt dizzy and I had already stopped, squinting when the headlights resolved into Ace’s truck parked on the street. His loud music cut off three seconds after the engine did, and his door made a hard slam of sound. Footsteps soft, his shadowy form came around the front of the truck and headed for the walk.

“Ace,” I said, holding my stomach. I felt queasy. We couldn’t see the front door from where we were, but it was easy enough to follow his fast pace up the walk and then hear the cheerful dinging of the doorbell.

From Shoe’s room came a muttered curse. Barnabas drew me behind a tree, and together we watched Shoe fidget, standing before his computer and almost falling when he tried to put on his shoes. “Hurry up!” he muttered as the drive still hummed. My eyes weren’t working right, and I blinked, trying to get the haze of blue out of them. Glancing down at my amulet, I wondered if the silver mesh cradling it looked blue, too, or if it was my imagination.

Barnabas tightened his grip on my arm. “We have to go,” he said, eyes on the window.

“Why?” I asked, trying to shake a new buzzing from my ears.

He turned to me, his brown eyes holding a bothered impatience. “Because I think Shoe is going to come out the window as soon as that computer finishes.”

Sure enough, Shoe had a black hoodie on, and was standing at the screen and fiddling with the little clips that held it in place. From outside, I could hear his mom at the door, inviting Ace in. Grimacing, I ducked behind the tree and out of sight.

The sound of wind among feathers brought our attention up, and I wasn’t surprised to see Nakita lightly land on the roof. “Stay there!” Barnabas all but hissed at her, and the dark reaper grinned at him, making me shiver at her fierce expression. My eyes widened when she flipped him off, then jumped back into the air so she could follow Shoe, who was clearly going to go AWOL.

From inside, I heard Shoe’s mom call for him. This was going to get ugly really fast.

“Does Nakita even know what that means?” I asked, putting a hand to my chest. Why isn’t my heart beating? It always beats when I get nervous.

Barnabas pulled me back behind the tree. “I don’t think so,” he said, and I blinked up at him. His eyes were all silver. “We’ve got to go.”

Everything is turning blue, I thought. I felt numb, indistinct.

Shoe finally got the screen off, and it scraped the window as he tucked it outside. His curtains fluttered as he closed them to hide the open window.