Nakita reached out and caught him gently, almost lovingly, as she eased the dark timekeeper to the polished floor. “Fate, Kairos,” Nakita whispered, crying as her hands slid from him, and she closed his eyes so they wouldn’t look to the heavens. “The seraphs fated her taking your place. Your span was done. There is no failure. There is only change.”
“Oh my God!” I shouted, terrified as I stood there. “You killed him! How could you…? He’s dead!”
Ron made a sound of regret, and I spun to him, frightened. If Kairos was dead, then that meant—“He’s not dead,” I babbled. “Tell me he’s not dead.”
“He’s gone,” Ron said, and I danced back when Nakita was suddenly before me, kneeling and offering me her sword.
“Nakita, no!” I cried out, panicked.
“My lady,” she insisted, pain in her fragile expression. “I am flawed.”
“Stop. Stop!” I said, frantic as I tried to get her to rise. She was so beautiful. She was an angel. She shouldn’t be kneeling before me. “D-don’t do this,” I stammered. “I’m not the dark timekeeper.” I looked at Ron, standing with his hands clasped before him.
“You are the keeper of unseen justice,” Nakita said, smiling at me, “sanctioned by seraphs. Able to track time and bend it to your will.”
“No I’m not!” I insisted, glancing at Kairos’s body.Nakita had just killed him!
Ron sighed heavily enough for me to hear. “Yes, you are.”
My gaze went to him, and I stiffened. A figure was behind him, hard to see against the rising sun. Ron saw where my attention was and turned. A strangled sound escaped him, and he scrambled out from between us. It was a seraph. It had to be.
“Blood has been spilled in the home of a timekeeper,” the seraph said, its voice both musical and painful.
It carried the power of the tides and the gentle caress of the waves upon the beach, and I almost cried to hear it. I couldn’t bear it. It was too much.
“A sacrifice so you will hear my plea.” Nakita stood before the seraph with her head bowed, but her sword was still at my feet, and I picked it up.
The seraph nodded, and I wondered if I should bow or curtsy or kneel or something.Oh, God. It was a freaking seraph, and here I was in yellow tights and skull earrings.
“She has taken her place,” Nakita said. “I present her to you and ask a boon. I want to be as I was. I’m damaged.” She looked up, tears marring her beautiful face. “I fear, seraph.”
“That is not damage, Nakita,” the seraph said gently. “That is a gift. Rejoice in your fear.”
The seraph turned to me, and my mouth went dry. “I’m not the dark timekeeper,” I babbled, shoving Nakita’s sword back at her until she took it. “I can’t be! I don’t know anything!”
“You will. In time,” the seraph said, wry amusement in its voice. “Until then, I will keep everything running smoothly. Don’t be long. My voice is already missed from the chorus.”
“But I don’t believe in fate!” I exclaimed. My gaze shot to Ron; I was thinking I was having doubts about choice, too.
“To believe in fate is not a requirement,” the musical voice said, the seraph seeming to take up the entire world, though it wasn’t much bigger than I was. “Kairos didn’t. Apparently.” I took a quick breath when it looked away from me and fixed on Ron. “You do, though. For all that you say otherwise.”
Ron didn’t move until the seraph looked away; then he sagged in relief.
“But I don’t want the job!” I said, frantic that what I wanted didn’t seem to matter. “Please, can’t I just have my body and go back to the way things were?”
The seraph blinked, looking shocked—if such an emotion could be applied to the divine. “You don’t want this?” it asked, and Ron took a step forward as if to protest.
“No!” I said, hope filling me. “I just want to be me.” In a rush, I pulled the stone from around my neck.
Gathering my courage, I darted forward, pushing the amulet into the seraph’s hands. My heart was pounding again, and, embarrassed that I couldn’t control it, I backed up, wondering if I’d broken a rule by getting that close. I couldn’t look up at its face. It hurt.
The seraph looked at the amulet in its luminescent fingers as if holding a great treasure. The stone was blazing an infinite black, the silver wires now a hot gold. “You already are you.”
“Please,” I begged, darting a glance at Kairos, dead on the tiles and forgotten. “Can you just make me as I was? Put me back in my body?”
Hope buoyed me up when the seraph smiled so brightly that I squinted. “If you choose so,” it said, an unexpected humor in its voice. “Where is it?”
My ecstatic shout died in dismay. “Kairos had it,” I said, feeling ill when my gaze landed on Nakita, then Ron, quiet in the background. He was no help, and I turned to the seraph.
“It’s got to be in the house,” I said, turning to it and feeling naked without the amulet around my neck.
“It would have rotted by now,” said Ron.
Horror lifted through me, and then fear. Had Kairos let my body rot? Had all of this been for nothing?