Hunched and afraid, I retreated. "Don't touch me."

"Madison!" Barnabas shouted. "Run!"

But there was only the morgue to run to. Lucy got in front of me, hands spread wide as if she could stop Seth with her will alone. "What are you doing here?" she said, voice shaking. "She's already dead. You can't flip her twice."

Seth scuffed his shoes confidently. "As you said, I flipped her coin. She's mine if I want her."

Barnabas paled. "You never come back for them. You're…" His eyes darted to the stone about Seth's neck. "You're not a black reaper, are you?"

Seth grinned as if it was a big joke. "No. I'm not. I'm a little bit more. More than you can handle. Leave, Barnabas. Just walk away. It won't hurt if you do."

I stared at Barnabas, helpless. His brown eyes met mine, saw my fear. I watched him visibly gather his courage.

"Barnabas!" Lucy shouted, terrified. "Don't!"

But Barnabas launched himself at the dark figure in black silk. In a motion so casual it was frightening, Seth turned to smack him with the back of his hand. Arms and legs flailing, Barnabas flew backward, hitting the wall and slumping to the floor, out cold.

"Run!" Lucy shouted, pushing me toward the morgue. "Stay in the sun. Don't let the black wings touch you. We'll get help. Someone will find you. Get out of here!"

"How?" I exclaimed. "He's in front of the only door."

Seth moved again, this time backhanding Lucy. She crumpled where she stood, leaving only me since the technician had either passed out or was hiding under the desk. Jaw trembling, I stood to my full height-such as it was-and tugged my dress straight. Deeper in it yet, apparently.

"She meant," Seth said, his voice both familiar and strange, "to run through the walls. You had a better chance against the black wings in the sun than with me under the ground."

"But I can't…" I started, then looked at the swinging doors. I went through them, having shifted them open only a few inches. What the heck was I? A ghost?

Seth smiled, chilling me. "Nice to see you, Madison, now that I can really… see you." He took off his mask and let it drop. His face was beautiful, like chiseled stone made soft.

I licked my lips and went cold to the bone when I remembered him kissing me. Holding one arm to myself, I backed away, trying to get out of Barnabas's and Lucy's influence so I could run through the walls. Hey, if Mr. Creepy thought I could do it, then maybe I could.

Seth followed, step for step. "We leave together. No one will believe I culled you unless I throw you at their feet."

Heels clicking, I kept moving. My gaze darted to Barnabas and Lucy, both still sprawled on the tile. "I'd rather stay, thanks." My heart pounded, and my back hit the wall. A little yelp slipped from me. I was far enough away from them that I should be misty, but I wasn't. I stared at Seth, then at that black stone about his neck. It was the same. Damn it!

"You don't have a choice," he said. "I'm the one that killed you. You're mine."

He reached out, grabbing my wrist. Adrenaline surged, and I twisted.

"The hell I am," I said, then kicked him in the shins. He clearly felt it, grunting as he bent in pain, but didn't let go. He had put his face in my reach, though, and grabbing his hair, I slammed his nose against my rising knee. I felt cartilage snap, and my stomach turned.

Cursing in a language that hurt my head, he let go and fell back.

I had to get out of here. I had to be solid or I'd never make it. Heart pounding, I grabbed the stone about his neck, pulling the necklace over his ears and off him. It tingled in my hand like fire, and I clenched my fingers around it, willing to suffer if it meant I would be whole.

Seth hit the floor, gaping up at me with red blood covering his face. He looked as surprised as if he had run into a glass wall.

"Madison…" Barnabas rasped from the floor.

I turned, seeing him stare at me with pain-laced, unfocused eyes.

"Run," he gasped.

Seth's amulet in my hand, I turned to the open hallway… and I ran.

"Dad!" I stood in the open front door, heart pounding as I listened to the silence seep up from the tidy, well-ordered state my dad kept the house in. Behind me, a lawn mower droned in the early sun. The gold haze spilled in to glint on the hardwood floors and the banister leading upstairs. I had run the entire way in my heels and that obnoxious dress. People had stared, and that I wasn't a bit tired kind of freaked me out. My pulse was fast from fear, not exertion.

"Dad?"

I stepped in, my eyes pricking with emotion when from upstairs came my dad's incredulous, shaky voice calling, "Madison?"

I took the stairs two at a time, tripping on my skirt and clawing my way up the last step. Throat tight, I rustled to a stop in the doorway to my room. My dad was sitting on the floor amid my boxes, opened but never unpacked. He looked old, his thin face gaunt with heartache, and I couldn't move. I didn't know what to do.

Eyes wide, he stared as if I weren't there. "You never unpacked," he whispered.

A hot tear ran down to my chin, coming from nowhere. Seeing him like this, I realized he did need me to remind him of the good stuff. No one had ever needed me before. "I… I'm sorry, Dad…" I managed as I stood there, helpless.

He took a breath and snapped out of it. Emotion lit his face. In a surge of motion, he stood. "You're alive?" he breathed, and I gasped when he took the three steps between us and brought me to him in a crushing hold. "They said you were dead. You're alive?"

"I'm okay," I sobbed into his chest, the release washing through me so hard it was painful. He smelled like the lab he worked in, of oil and ink, and nothing ever smelled so good. I couldn't stop my tears. I was dead-I think. I had an amulet, but I didn't know if I was going to be able to stay, and the fear of that fed my helplessness. "I'm okay," I said around a hiccupping sob. "But there was a mistake."

Half laughing, he pushed me back enough to see my face. Tears brightened his eyes, and he smiled as if he'd never stop. "I was at the hospital," he said. "I saw you."

The memory of that pain crossed behind his eyes, and he touched my hair with a shaking hand as if to reassure himself I was real. "But you're okay. I tried to call your mother. She's going to think I'm crazy. More crazy than usual. I couldn't leave a message telling her you were in an accident. So I hung up. But you're really okay?"

My throat was tight, and I sniffed loudly. I was not going to give up my amulet. Never. "I'm sorry, Dad," I said, still crying. "I shouldn't have gone with that guy. I never should have. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!"

"Shhhh." He pulled me back into a hug, rocking me, but I only cried harder. "It's okay. You're all right," he soothed, his hand brushing my hair. But he didn't know I really was dead.

His breath catching, my dad halted in a sudden thought. He put me at arm's length, and the cold that spilled into me when he looked me over ended my tears in a soft sniffle. "You're really fine," he said in wonder. "Not a scratch on you."

I smiled nervously, and one of his arms slipped from me. "Dad, there's something I need to tell you. I-"

There was a soft scuff at the door. My dad's eyes shot over my shoulder, and I turned to find Barnabas standing awkwardly next to a short man in a loose, martial arts kind of an outfit. It was billowy. Not functional at all. He was upright and thin, with sharp features and very dark skin. His eyes were a deep brown, heavily lined at the corners. His hair, too, said he was old, the tight curls graying at the temples.

"I'm sorry," my dad said, pulling me to stand beside him. "Did you bring my daughter home? Thank you."