Once Dead Twice Shy Page 0,26

Brushing my bangs back, I gazed out the kitchen window to the empty street. "Kairos wants his amulet back. Ron thinks I should keep it." What if they never show up?

"But Kairos has an amulet," Josh said. "I saw it."

Smiling grimly, I nodded. "Apparently it's not as powerful as the one I took. As bad as I feel for him, I'd rather stay alive, thank you. He shouldn't have killed me in the first place," I muttered.

His expression thoughtful, Josh propped his elbows on the table. "Kairos came back for your soul at the morgue. That's messed up."

"Yeah," I said, stifling a shudder. "He targeted me, killed me, then came back for me. They never do that." Why me? I'm not special.

"So you're a reaper now?" Josh said, looking uncomfortable. "Like in the books where if you cheat death, you take his place?"

"No freaking way!" I exclaimed. "Only a reaper can be a reaper. I'm just dead."

That seemed to give Josh a measure of peace as he settled back and started on his second sandwich. "This is so weird."

I snorted and ate a chip. "You have no idea," I said, then slid my sandwich to him, minus the crusts, which I picked at. Though I was upset, it was nice having someone to talk shop with besides Barnabas. I should've done this months ago. Not that Josh would have believed me, much less talked to me. I'd been spending so much time in my room e-mailing Wendy about nothing that I hadn't tried to make any new friends. Maybe I should change that, I thought sadly. That is, if I survived. Where in God's creation was Barnabas?

Josh began chuckling, and I eyed him. "I'm kind of glad you're dead."

"Why?" I asked, miffed. "So you can eat my lunch?"

Elbows on the table, he smiled. "Because it means I'm not crazy."

My brief smile faded. "I'm sorry. You weren't supposed to remember anything. It must have been awful, having a memory like that when everything is telling you it's a dream. Is it bad? I think my dad remembers stuff too." Me in the morgue, the call never completed to my mom. The guilt, the loss...boxes to be filled, taped up, and put in the attic.

His eyes down, Josh nodded. I heard a car pull into the drive and got up. It was my dad, and after seeing Josh's truck, he backed out and parked in the street so he didn't block him in. "What's my dad doing home?" My attention shifted to the clock on the stove. It was only one thirty.

Wiping the chip crumbs off himself, Josh shifted in his seat. "You don't think he heard about what happened, do you? I probably shouldn't have driven off like that."

My dad was eyeing Josh's truck as he came up the walk, squinting until he found the shade. His khakis and dress shirt made him look professional, but he was still wearing his lab coat - which meant I was in trouble. He never forgot to take it off unless he was upset. His work ID dangled from around his neck, and he tucked it into the lab coat's breast pocket when he reached the drive.

"We didn't do anything wrong by leaving," I said, suddenly nervous. "It wasn't your fault Kairos hit a traffic light. You didn't hit anything."

"It was my fault!" Grace chimed out, and the light fixture she was in glowed brighter.

"I was a witness." Josh pulled a phone from his pocket and looked at it.

"How would he find out, though?" I muttered, pulling back from the window when my dad looked up at the house.

Josh shifted his glass so it was perfectly situated with his plate. "It's a small town," he said, his brow pinched in worry. "I should call my mom."

We both stiffened when the front door opened. "Madison?" my dad's voice echoed in the silent house. "Are you home?"

I gave Josh a nervous look. "We're in the kitchen, Dad."

His shoes thumped on the hardwood floor, and he appeared in the archway to the hall. Josh stood, and my dad's eyebrows rose as he took him in. "Hello, sir," Josh said, extending his hand. "I'm Josh Daniels."

My dad's puzzled expression eased and turned into one of acceptance. "Oh! Mark's son. You look just like him. It's good to meet you." His grip pulled away. "You're the one who left Madison at the prom," he accused in a defensive-dad sort of way.

"Dad!" I protested, embarrassed. "He didn't leave me. I