Kim Harrison - Something Deadly This Way Comes

I sniffed, jumping when Nakita handed me a tissue from her purse. “Thanks,” I said as I rubbed the soft paper under my nose and wadded it up in a tight ball. God, I was going to throw up, I knew it.

“I’m sorry, Madison,” she said as she stood awkwardly next to me while we waited for traffic to clear enough to cross.

“Me too,” I said, glancing back when Barnabas dropped from the sky, a soft thump of air giving him away. His expression was cross, and his wings immediately vanished, leaving him a slightly surly, broody teenager in dark pants, a faded band tee, and a black duster totally at odds with the hot weather. He shoved his hands in his pockets and joined us at the curb, just back from his quick trip to take Josh home. Josh said he was going to cover for me, but I was likely still going to have to make an appearance for my dad before too long.

I turned back, waiting for a light to change about half a mile up the road. Barnabas was upset, looking positively angry as he scowled at Nakita, something clearly on his mind. I’d be concerned, but disappointment clung to me like a second shadow, made worse by the darkening sky. Heat stored in the asphalt rose, and I brushed the hair from my eyes as I scanned the skies for black wings that wouldn’t be coming. No, I’d fixed everything up just jim dandy. Thanks to me, Tammy would die without reaper intervention. The seraphs were probably tickled three shades of happiness. I was truly the dark timekeeper, able to convince people to kill themselves after a few minutes’ conversation.

“You do not have a soul,” Barnabas muttered to Nakita out of the blue, shocking me. “Only creatures of the earth have souls.”

Souls? I wondered, my thoughts going back to Nakita’s last words before he had left, and I turned to see her standing with her lips pressed and her grip tight on her red purse.

“I do, too,” she said defiantly, but she looked frightened as well. “I fear,” she said as if finding strength in it for the first time. “I’m creative. I think I could love. I say that means I have a soul. It might not be perfect, like Madison’s, but I’ve got one. And it might be in danger if I just let Tammy die.”

Bemused, I looked at them both, Nakita flustered and looking like she’d done something wrong, and Barnabas, angry and surly. “You guys don’t have souls?” I asked, and Barnabas dropped his gaze to his faded sneakers.

“Angels don’t,” he said bitterly, almost jealously. “Even ones kicked out of heaven.”

A semi clattered past, and I held my hair to my head. “Who says?”

“ I have a soul,” Nakita said firmly, but her expression was haunted. “I have a piece of Madison’s.”

Mine? How could she have a part of my soul?

“I . . . don’t think I can give it back to you,” Nakita said. “I’m sorry.” She was pleading, looking both frightened and desperate, her blue eyes pinched in concern. “It’s just a little sliver from yours, it got stuck in me with the black wings. I’ll ask the seraphs to try to take it from me if you want it back. It might make things easier. I don’t think we’re supposed to have one—”

“No!” I said immediately, and Barnabas’s eyes squinted. “No,” I said softer. “You keep it. Are you sure? I mean, I don’t feel like I’m missing anything.”

Nakita’s smile was blissful, as if a great guilt had been lifted from her. “I feel it,” she said firmly. “I knew it was there ever since the black wings, but I didn’t know what it was because sometimes it makes me hurt inside, but even then it feels good.” Shyly, she looked up at me from lowered eyes. “Thank you.”

I touched her arm so she’d realize I knew what it meant to her. “You’re welcome.” She had a part of my soul? Jeez, just how much had I ruined her existence?

“You do not have part of Madison’s soul,” Barnabas said disdainfully.

“I do!” Nakita’s anger flared. “You need to shut up, you filthy light reaper! You don’t have one, so you don’t know anything about it!”

“Nakita,” I admonished, but it almost looked like Barnabas appreciated the insult—even if it was technically inaccurate. His eyes were on the traffic, and I followed his gaze to guess that it was clear enough to cross with two angels with me. “Let’s go,” I said. “Nakita, I’m glad you have a part of my soul. It’s the least I can do for having put black wings inside you. Keep it. Make it yours.”

My feet hit the pavement, and the heat rose up in a wave. I could hear them following, going slow, then fast as cars came and went around us. Barnabas hustled to catch up, and as we reached the curb, he whispered, “Do you think she really has part of your soul?”

I shrugged. “If she says so. I don’t feel like I’m missing anything.”

Nakita strolled past us, intent on reaching the apartment building. She looked breezy and bright, clearly relieved that the question of her soul had been settled. “Tammy is on the third floor. I can sense her resonance.”

Barnabas and I found the sidewalk together. He looked angry. “Barnabas,” I started, and he interrupted me.

“I’m fine,” he said brusquely.

“Who’s to say you don’t have a soul?” I said. “Maybe that’s why you got kicked out of heaven in the first place?”

His pace faltered, and he looked at me in wonder. Something in me ached to see him hurting inside this much. “I don’t have a soul,” he said, but there was a thread of doubt in it. “We weren’t made to have one. We were made to serve, not delight in God’s creations.”

Serve? I thought, then filed that away to think about later. “Well, you did get kicked out because you loved someone, right?” I said, watching my shoes scuff the thick cracks as we slowly followed Nakita. It was the first time I dared to ask him about his past, and though he seemed uncomfortable, I wanted to know. “And you found value in life, not just someone’s soul. You can’t value something you don’t have, can you?”

“N-no,” he stammered, but Nakita had already opened the front door and was waiting for us. The cool air flowed out, but that wasn’t why I shivered. Barnabas has a soul, doesn’t he?

I followed Nakita inside, seeing the faded carpet with the flat, black spots that had to be old gum. It smelled like dry dirt, and there was a thick layer of dust on the narrow sections of hardwood between the carpeted stairs and the wall. A bank of mail slots took up one wall with a scratched table under it. There were a couple of pieces of mail sitting there, and nothing else.

“Upstairs?” I offered, and Nakita started up, then me, and finally Barnabas, still probably thinking about his soul or the lack of one. Someone was playing music too loudly, and it rapidly grew as we ascended.

We rounded the second landing and started up the last stairway. The music was coming from the third floor. It thumped into me, the bass being joined by a guitar and an angry vocal the higher we went. My curiosity turned into a wince as I realized that the aggressive music was coming from the apartment that Nakita had stopped in front of. C3, corner apartment, top floor. It went without saying that Tammy’s mom was probably not home.

Suddenly unsure, I wiped my hands on my jeans. I didn’t have a clue what I could say that wouldn’t sound crazy. I didn’t care if I sounded crazy at this point. The memory of the two of them dying was too awful to risk becoming true.

“Well?” Nakita prompted.

“This is a bad plan,” Barnabas said, but he leaned past me, ringing the bell and knocking on the varnished door.

Plan? Who said anything about a plan? I don’t even have a plan! I thought in panic as a dog began to yap wildly, and the thin strip of light coming from under the door was eclipsed by frantic little paws. From behind the door came a kid’s voice telling the dog to shut up, and then, with a burst of music, the door opened.