“So where’s your car?” I asked, hoping Barnabas and Nakita were being enough of a distraction, but not so big that it made international news.

“I didn’t want it seen at the school, so I parked it down the street,” he said, breathless as we ran. But when we rounded the corner, it was me who stopped dead in my tracks.

Shoe drove a gray convertible. And the top was down.

“No freaking way,” I said, the memory of my heart pounding in a past fear. It looked like the car I had died in. Right down to the leather seats and the key in the ignition.

Shoe jumped over the closed door and turned the key. “Get in!” he exclaimed, surprised to find me six feet back. Behind me, fire trucks were starting to arrive.

I can do this, I thought, carefully opening the door and getting in. It’s not the same car. It’s not the same driver. But the thudding of my heart seemed real enough to shake even the illusion of my body. “Put your seat belt on,” I said as I settled into the rich leather seats as if I were glass and could break.

“We’re only going a couple of miles,” he griped, looking over his shoulder as he backed up, the lights of the cop cars a distant threat.

“Put your seat belt on!” I yelled, and his eyes widened, black in the dim light.

“Okay, okay!” he said, and I glared at him until he did. “Freaky girl.”

“I died in a car just like this,” I said to try to explain myself, then laughed nervously. “Just kidding.” He’d probably stop believing me if he thought I thought I was dead.

He gripped the wheel tighter, not saying anything as he got us on the road and away from the commotion at the school. It wasn’t until we’d gone about a quarter mile that he flicked on the lights, and I breathed easier. “We need to stop at your place and get the patch,” I said, holding my hair out of my face. “Ace might still be there. I don’t know how far into the future I saw that first time.”

Oooooh, I thought, biting my tongue as I realized what I had just said. That was going to be hard to laugh off.

Shoe stared at me as he drove. “Future?” he said softly, as though this was just sinking in, and I winced.

“Can you, um, ignore that last part?” I asked him, and he looked scared.

Anxious and jittery, I closed my mouth before I told him anything that would make him want to kick me out of the car. I still had a chance. It wasn’t too late. I had to make this work. It wasn’t just Ace’s future on the line. It was my own.

Ten

Shoe parked two houses down from his on the other side of the street, frowning at Ace’s truck still at the curb. Getting out without opening the car doors, we ran up the sidewalk, slowing as we neared. Shoe wasn’t in very good shape, even as skinny as he was. The almost full moon had finally risen, helping light the black yards. Ace’s truck was ticking as we passed it, the big engine still cooling. Maybe we were in time. Maybe nothing I’d seen in my flash forward had happened yet.

“You aren’t even breathing hard,” Shoe said, puffing.

“Yeah, well, I run a lot.” Fidgeting at the slower pace, I shivered, thinking it odd that I felt cold at all. “How long will it take to get the patch?” I asked.

Shoe glanced at me. “It will take longer to introduce you to my mom.”

The toes of my sneakers grew wet with the dew, and I glanced at Shoe’s room. The light was shifting as someone inside moved around. Ace? “Your mom thinks you’re still in your room,” I reminded him, thinking he must not go AWOL often.

Shoe immediately shifted direction. “The window it is, then.”

I couldn’t help my smile at his slight frown. He wasn’t very good at this sneaking-around thing, even if he had the car routine down. But his frown turned into anger when we got closer and we saw Ace messing around in Shoe’s top desk drawer. “What is he doing?” Shoe whispered angrily, but I was elated. We were in time.

“I don’t know. Maybe he hasn’t downloaded the virus to the hospital yet,” I said.

Shoe’s brow furrowed, and with an awkward motion he gripped the sill and swung himself up and in. “Get the hell out of my desk,” he said as he tugged his black hoodie straight.

Ace spun, his shock clear. His startled gaze shifted past Shoe to me as I came in, and his eyes narrowed. “Hey, Shoe,” he huffed, shoving the drawer shut and backing away. “You owe me a five. I was just looking for it.”

“Right,” Shoe mocked, shoving him from his desk with a single open hand. Head down, Shoe pulled the drawer open as Ace caught his balance. Shoe sifted through the clutter. His eyes widening, he looked at me as if he didn’t believe it, then tossed a laminated card to the desktop. “That’s your mom’s,” he said, and my lips parted at the hospital ID. I hadn’t seen that in my flash forward. “What are you doing, Ace?”

Instead of being angry, Ace rocked back with a satisfied expression. “Yeah, it’s my mom’s, and now it’s got your fingerprints all over it. Dumb ass.”

Shoe fisted his hands, coming forward a step. “You want to put it in the hospital? Are you crazy? Someone might get hurt. Give me the disc.”

Smirking, Ace sat on his bed, casual and infuriating in his black T-shirt, which was too thin to hide how skinny he was. “Too late. It’s already in.”

Too late? Had Ace been to the hospital already?

“You are a friggin’ idiot!” Shoe exploded, and I wished he’d tone it down. “All we wanted was the day off. Some notoriety. It’s a hospital, Ace! You’re going to kill someone! What’s wrong with you?”

Ace stood, and I took a step back at his ugly expression. “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? This is your fault. You’re ditching me, and you’re gonna take your hit like a man. It’s your computer. I don’t know nothing about it.”

Shoe shook his head, aghast. “This is because I’m going to college? What do you want me to do? Marry you? People grow up! Move away! I’m going to college, not the moon! You could go, too, if you wanted!”

I heard a soft click of heels outside the door, and I felt scared. But Shoe’s mother was walking away, letting them take care of their issues on their own. She clearly wasn’t ignorant of their friendship being on the skids.

Ace’s expression was ugly. “You ain’t going anywhere but jail, Richie Rich.”

I backed up to the window. I’d never seen so much hatred and bile in someone’s expression, and I couldn’t help but think that the idea of Nakita taking this guy’s life before he sullied his soul so far that he wouldn’t even ask for forgiveness wasn’t such a bad idea. I was thinking like a dark reaper, and I didn’t like it.

Shoe was white-faced with anger. “You were with me when I wrote it. I’ll tell them—”

“Tell them what?” Ace interrupted. “You trashed the school’s files. The disc I left in the hospital is the same program. It’s got your name on it, dude.”

Standing before Ace, Shoe started to shake. “You are an ass,” he said, and I gasped when he punched Ace. Right in the face.

“Shoe!” I shouted, but Ace was down, having hit the bed and slipped to the floor. Standing above him, Shoe shook his hand, swearing.

“You hit me!” Ace exclaimed, propped up on an elbow as he felt his mouth. “I’m freaking bleeding!”

“Yeah, and I’ll hit you again unless you come with me to the police and tell them what you did. I wanted to trash the school’s computer system, not hurt people!”

I already knew a trip to the police wasn’t going to happen, and I pulled Shoe back when Ace got to his feet, spitting blood on Shoe’s carpet. “You’re going to rot. Who are the police going to believe? It’s all on your computer.”

Shaking, I said in frustration, “I don’t think I can stop Nakita from killing you, and you know what, Ace? I’m not even a bit sorry.” I was, though. I ached for him to make a better choice. I knew he wouldn’t. Maybe Nakita was right. The seraphs targeted only people who refused to see the light, even if you taped their eyes open and stood them in the sun.