Josh sat with his hands on his wheel, staring at me as a car drove slowly around us. "Madison, you are one weird dudette."
"Yeah, I know," I rushed. "Give me a ride to the bike shop? I need a new tire."
Cocking his head, Josh looked at me. I'd do just about anything right now not to have to explain, but I'd also do anything to keep him safe. It was my fault he was in danger. I might be dead, but I still had to live with myself, and if I walked away, Josh would suffer. Maybe die.
"I'm at the bottom of a ravine, aren't I?" I blurted desperately, my eyes pleading for him to listen. "In a black convertible. In your dream."
Josh's mouth dropped open. "How do you know that?"
I licked my lips, feeling the heat come up off the road like the fires of hell. I knew better than to break the false memory Ron had given Josh. But he wasn't here, and I didn't know how to reach him. "Because it wasn't a dream," I said.
CHAPTER 4
Seeing as how it was about twenty years old, Josh's truck was spare in the amenities. It had manual locks, manual windows, a long bench seat, and no air conditioner. It had a monster of a stereo, though, and he had to move a crate of CDs to the middle before I could get in. Hard rock, mostly, and some classic rockers my dad listened to. Wendy would have liked the harder stuff. He hadn't turned the music on, and I was getting nervous from the ongoing silence.
A Harley bell hung from the radio knob, and my guardian angel had parked herself on it with a satisfied hum the moment she followed me in. I swear I'd heard her singing when Josh did a three-point turn and headed us into town, the bell swinging softly.
His gym bag was shoved under the seat, and the narrow space behind the front seat held an expensive-looking fly rod. I couldn't help but wonder why Josh drove an old truck when I knew his dad could afford a lot better.
He was a good driver, silent as we made our way to the bike shop. His curiosity as to how I knew about his dream had gotten me a ride, but now he seemed to be waiting for me to elaborate. I didn't quite know what to say as I sat beside him, and I leaned forward into the sun to look out the front window for black wings. There was only blue sky, which made me feel better. No black wings meant no reapers. The one always followed the other.
"What are you looking at?" Josh asked, and I leaned back.
"Nothing." The old truck bounced as we went over a bridge, and the homes started to shift to businesses. He was waiting for me to say something. Since we only had about five stoplights to go, I sighed. "What do you remember about the prom?" I asked softly.
"That you were a real—" His words cut off, and his neck went red. "Uh."
"I was nasty," I finished for him, wincing. "I'm sorry. I was mad when I found out you'd only asked me to the prom because your dad wanted you to, because my dad was worried about me being new to town and not knowing anyone. I was a class-A bitch."
"No, you weren't," he said, but I could tell he was still mad about it. I remained silent, and he added, "You left with someone I didn't know, and I went home early. That's it."
My fingers played with the weather stripping around the open window as I hesitated, and he slowed as the traffic thickened. "I left with a guy you'd never seen before," I said softly, "but you followed us to make sure I got home okay."
Josh's grip shifted, as if I'd said something he'd never told anyone else.
"That was sweet of you," I said, and he swallowed, making his Adam's apple shift. "I was being stupid. I was mad at the world for my mom shipping me up here. What happened wasn't your fault." I took a slow breath as I found the next words. "He drove right off the road. The car rolled to land right side up at the bottom of a hill." My grip tightened as Josh stopped at a four-way, and I put a hand to my middle. I didn't feel so good.
"He had a sword," Josh said, then crossed the intersection. "In my dream, I mean."
His voice had gone defensive, like he didn't believe it, and I moved my hand to my knee to hide the scrape the boat's carpet had given me. "The crash didn't kill me," I continued, "so he, uh, yeah. He scythed me. I don't remember anything after that until I woke up in the morgue."
Josh made a noise of disbelief. "Nice, Madison," he scoffed. "So now you're dead."
The glow around the Harley bell brightened, and the guardian angel blurted, "Oh my God in heaven, you are dead. Why am I guarding a dead person?"
Ignoring her, I gripped my amulet tight as she buzzed up to look at it. "Oh-h-h-h!" she hissed, her glow almost going out. "Kairos is going to go supernova. Does he know you have his amulet? Where did you get it? Did Chronos give it to you? How did he get it?"
I squinted through her glow at Josh. Crap. This was not going well. She wasn't supposed to know. Ron was going to be ticked. But as long as she was with me, she couldn't leave to blab it around. Josh was shaking his head. I lifted my chin angrily. "Okay then. Tell me what you remember about your dream."
His grip shifted on the wheel, and he turned us into the downtown district. "It's kind of foggy," he hedged. "You know how dreams get when you think about them."
"Well?" I prompted, and he frowned.
"I called 911. In my dream," he said, his neck muscles tight. "They told me to stay on the line, but I didn't. I ran down to see if you were all right. You were alone by the time I got to you, and you just sort of…went to sleep. Stopped breathing."
And I haven't had a real need to start up again since, I thought sourly. "Then what?" I didn't know what happened between my dying and the morgue. Barnabas wouldn't talk about it.
"Uh…" Josh kept his eyes on the road, looking nervous. "The ambulance got there before the cops. They put you in a black zipper bag. The sound of it going up…I'll never forget that." His posture shifted, and he seemed to be almost embarrassed. "The paramedics were really quiet when they lifted you out of the car. It was their job, but they were sad."
"I don't remember that part," I whispered. The guardian angel had gone back to her bell and was silently listening, her glow vanishing as soon as she landed.
"The cops…" Josh paused, pretending to look both ways as he collected himself. "They put me in the backseat, and they drove me to the hospital to get me checked out even though I said I hadn't been in the car. Then your dad was there. He was crying."
Guilt hunched me over. Ron said he had blocked this from my dad's memories, but how could he be sure? This was a nightmare.
"He said it wasn't my fault," Josh said, his voice low. "But I should've taken you home. And then the dream switches. Like nothing happened. I'm home cleaning the mud off my good shoes before my dad yells at me." I looked at him, and he shook his head while he watched the road. "And that's the weird thing, because I remember cleaning my shoes." He looked at his hands, then the road. "It was like it never happened and you were okay. I hate dreams like that."
I wondered how he could dismiss it as a dream, but I could see him trying to figure out where he had gotten mud on his shoes if he hadn't slid down a ravine after me.
"I ruined my dress," I said. "I'm still trying to pay for it."
Josh gave me a sideways look and shifted his grip on the wheel. "It was a dream. I mean, you're here. Alive."