Kim Harrison - Something Deadly This Way Comes

“This is wonderful, Madison,” she said, shunning the pen tied to the auction slip to use her own turquoise-inlaid pen to make an outrageous offer. “Still taking shots of daydreams?” she added, referring to my childhood preoccupation of photographing clouds. This one was nothing special, just a photograph to fulfill a class requirement. It didn’t deserve even an honorable mention as far as I was concerned. The one I’d taken of the black wings circling an abandoned house hadn’t even placed.

“Thanks, Mom,” I said, giving her equal hug-time so they wouldn’t start arguing. I pressed into her, my eyes closing at the scent of raw silk. Her grip on me seemed a shade too tight, a moment too long, and she seemed concerned when I broke from her and she searched my gaze. She looked the same in her fashionable shoes, her creased slacks, and her silk blouse. Her hair was in the latest conservative cut, and her makeup was perfect. She had huffed as usual at my choice of clothes and Dad’s casual slacks and shirt, but I could tell she was worried about me. The wrinkles around her eyes had broken free of her expensive cream to give her away.

“I can’t believe you came up all the way from Florida for a mall show, Mom,” I said, trying to get her to stop looking at Barnabas and Josh.

Her attention came back to me, and a quick, unsure smile flashed across her. “And miss this? Not going to happen. I didn’t have anything this week but a cancer fund-raiser, and the people running it know better than me what needs to be done.” She put her pen away, carefully ignoring my dad as she moved to the picture with the black wings.

“Did I tell you they had me changing planes in Arizona?” my mother added, shaking her head at the “crows.” “The connecting flight was canceled. I almost got on a flight to San Diego, not Illinois. Hell of a way to run an airline.”

I fidgeted, not knowing what to say. “Well, I’m glad you’re here,” I finally said. “It really means a lot to me.” I slurped the last of my shake, seeing my dad hide a smile as my mom frowned at the rude noise. It was the first time in months that I’d eaten anything in front of him without duress. I was still hungry, too, and I glanced at the nearby food court where Barnabas waited with Josh and a half-eaten plate of fries. Nakita had shown up, standing with her hip cocked and her eyes narrowed. She and Barnabas were arguing. Big surprise.

My mother, ever sensitive to the boys around her one and only daughter, raised her eyebrows at the incongruous trio. Barnabas was eye candy to the max, but it was Josh who was watching me with hopeful eyes, even as he stuffed fries in his mouth. My stomach rumbled. It seemed like it was making up for lost time. At least my bruises didn’t show.

“Hey, um, you guys mind if I go talk to my friends for a minute?” I asked, wanting some of those fries before Josh ate them all.

“Yes, go,” my mother said, frowning suspiciously at Barnabas. “They’re invited to come with us for lunch,” she added, her gaze rising to linger on my amulet.

“I’ll ask.” I was backing up, and I flushed when my dad shook his wrist, then adjusted his watch.

“Reservations at twelve thirty,” my mother added. “I think the van I rented will hold all of us. I’d like to meet your new friends.” She looked at her watch and murmured, “Eleven seventeen, Bill.” Looking up with an exhale, she said to me, “Especially your boyfriends.”

Oh, God. Just take me now. “You’ve met Josh,” I said guardedly, knowing she was talking about Barnabas.

“Who is that other young man talking to Nicki?” she asked.

“It’s Nakita,” I corrected her, growing uncomfortable as Nakita seemed to deflate at something Barnabas said, the reaper’s anger washing away to leave only sadness. Something was going on. Josh, too, looked unhappy.

“And Barnabas isn’t my boyfriend,” I said, my mouth dropping open as Nakita gave Barnabas a hug. “He’s more like . . .” I hesitated, blinking as Nakita turned and walked away, head down and looking miserable. “He’s helped me with a few issues,” I said, my voice preoccupied. What on earth is going on?

My mother cleared her throat, and I turned, flushing at her unbelieving gaze. “He seems to be quite the Casanova.”

When my mother got it wrong, she really got it wrong. “Yea-a-a-ah,” I said, just wanting to go over and find out what was up. “Um, would you mind if I, uh . . .”

“Go!” my dad said, finding his own Bic pen in a pocket and topping my mother’s offer on my lackluster photograph. My mother huffed as I was turning away. I couldn’t help my smile. I knew that there wasn’t a chance that they would ever get back together again, but there was a peace that hadn’t been there before, and it was nice to have them both around me. Centered, as my dad would say.

Head down as I lived for a moment in my tiny daydream, I tossed my empty shake cup away, feeling good as I joined Barnabas and Josh. Running a fry through his ketchup, Josh gave me an understanding grin as he took in my folks, one comfortable and almost sloppy, the other uptight and proper.

“Madison, your mom looks . . . nice?” he offered, and I snorted.

“I can’t imagine why you and your mother didn’t get along,” Josh added, and I slumped into my chair.

“She’s okay,” I said, pulling myself upright so my mom wouldn’t frown. “She just wants to be sure I’m safe.”

I reached for one of Josh’s fries, and he pushed the plate to me. A warm spot grew in my middle, and I smiled. Yeah, he liked me. A guy wouldn’t just give up his fries like that if he didn’t.

Barnabas brought his gaze back from the shop that Nakita had gone into, his expression cross. “I can’t go for lunch,” he said irately.

My eyebrows went up. “You heard that?”

Josh squirted more ketchup out. “He heard your entire conversation. Sitting with him is like sitting with an FBI agent. I , though, would like to go to lunch.” He ate a fry, narrowly escaping dripping ketchup on himself. “I already cleared it with my mom,” he added, mouth full.

I followed Barnabas’s dark gaze down the hall. He was brooding about Nakita. “I, ah, talked to Paul this morning,” I said, and Barnabas jerked his attention back to me. A trace of what might be alarm drifted through him, and I put up a hand.

“We’re good,” I said. “Ron pulled his sword out of his patio and he doesn’t remember anything about Paul helping us last night.”

“Good, good.” Barnabas’s words weren’t quite jiving with his body language. “I heard from Paul, too,” he added, eyes on the table.

“Really?” I hoped Nakita was okay. It wasn’t like her to just . . . leave like that. She’d been on cloud nine, maybe literally, since finding out that I’d retained my timekeeper position and that things had the potential to change.

The silence brought my attention back to the table. Josh was giving Barnabas a look, and the reaper was studiously ignoring him, gazing at his amulet. The usually flat stone was glowing, and I saw the hint of yellow in it. As in shifting to red, yellow.

“What’s going on?” I asked, remembering Nakita’s angry, then sad mood.

“Just tell her, Barney,” Josh prompted him, earning a glare from the reaper.

“Tell me what?” I demanded.

Still, Barnabas sat there with his lips pressed tight, hands clasped tightly on the table. I could see my mother beyond him, watching us.

Josh slurped some of his drink. “Barnabas wants to go back to Ron,” he said flatly.

My lips parted, and I sat up straight. “Excuse me?”

My loud exclamation had caught my mom’s attention, but my dad caught her elbow and tugged her away, giving us the privacy that I deserved but she didn’t understand.