Barnabas’s plan must be to shadow the victim. I looked across the dock at Bill, wondering if I could see a dark haze about him, or if it was my imagination.
All too soon, we were on the water, speeding over a small lake with the girl in the red one-piece skiing behind our boat, and Bill behind the other. The rhythmic thump and the hissing of the shattered waves was like a familiar, glorious song. Sunshine beat heavy on my shoulders, its warmth stolen by the force of the wind whipping my hair into my eyes. The black wings had risen up in confusion at the dock, but the biggest were already making their way after us. My unease grew as I dropped my gaze to the skiers.
Bill looked like he knew what he was doing, as did the girl behind our boat. If they weren’t dark reapers, and the guy in the gray trunks driving wasn’t a reaper, then that left three possibilities, two of whom were with me. I resisted the urge to finger the black stone hiding behind my shirt, hoping that Barnabas hadn’t put me on the wrong boat. Bikini girl had on a necklace.
“Are you a good skier?” I shouted to her, wanting to hear her talk.
She turned and smiled, holding her long blond hair tightly. “Not bad,” she said, leaning in to be heard over the engine. “Think she’ll fall soon? I’m dying to get on the water.”
My smile went stilted, and I hoped she wasn’t foretelling her future. “She might. The jump is coming up.”
“Maybe then.” She glanced at the purple tips of my hair, dropping her gaze to my skull-and-crossbones earrings. Smiling, she said, “I’m Susan. Cabin Chippewa.”
“Uh, Madison,” I said, holding tight to the boat with one hand as my balance shifted. It was too windy to really talk, and as Susan watched the skier behind us jump our wake, I assessed the driver.
The petite girl behind the wheel had an enviable mane of black hair, long and thick. It streamed out behind her to show little ears, strong cheekbones, and a placid expression as she looked forward. Wide shoulders and a slim body made her seem as capable as she was attractive. Her Hawaiian top was glaring out here in the sun, making me wish I had worn sunglasses, too.
My attention shifted across the water to the red boat thirty yards off our starboard and Barnabas talking to the guy in the blue shirt. The wind shifted as the boat turned to the jump, and Susan leaned in, her long hair smacking my face before she grabbed it. The black wings had caught up. All of them. “How long are you here for?” she asked.
“Uh, not long,” I answered truthfully. “School starts up in about two weeks.”
Susan nodded. “Same here.”
I shifted on the spray-splattered vinyl, nervous. I was supposed to be the designated watcher, but I really wanted to watch the driver. No mortal had a right to be that gorgeous. If I could find the guts to talk to her, I might be able to tell if she wasn’t.And what if she isn’t, Madison? I thought, growing nervous. It wasn’t like I could tell Barnabas. Maybe splitting up hadn’t been such a good idea.
“My parents made me come here,” Susan said, pulling my attention back. “I had to leave my job and everything,” she added with an eye roll. “Lost a month of pay. I work at a newspaper, and my dad didn’t want me staring at a computer screen all summer. They still think I’m twelve.”
I nodded, my expression freezing when a kite-sized sheet of dripping black glided between the boats as if we were standing still. Stifling a shudder, I sent my gaze to Barnabas; I could see his frown from here.
Frolicking both above the water and under it, the black wings grew close, winding my tension tighter, starting at my feet and climbing higher.
Susan stood and wobbled to the bow of the boat to glory in the wind. In a surge of worry, I forced my hand down from the black, water-washed smoothness of my amulet and held my middle. I was getting seasick, not from the jarring boat, but from what was going to happen. Unless Barnabas could do a better job than he had with me, someone would die. I’d done that—well, half of it, anyway—and waking up in the morgue wasn’t fun.
My gaze slid from the skier to Barnabas as the red speedboat inched closer; we were nearing the jump.
His brown hair streamed back from the wind, and he was talking to the driver, his knees spread wide for balance, looking every bit like the casual seventeen-year-old he was trying to save. As if feeling my attention, Barnabas looked up and our eyes met. Between us, a black wing dove into the water.Son of a dead puppy. They were getting bold. It was almost time.
“Hey!” Susan shouted, looking to where the black wing had vanished. “Did you see that?” she asked, eyes wide. “It looked like a stingray. I didn’t know they had stingrays in freshwater.”
Because they don’t in this hemisphere,I thought, scanning the horizon. Black wings were everywhere, keeping pace with the boats above and below the water.