“Really?” I said, but then the oddity of Barnabas’s question hit me, and I turned to him. “Is that important?” Startled out of his thoughts, Barnabas looked everywhere but at me. “It should be shifting up the spectrum to red.” The reaper’s eyes landed on mine. “I bet Ron isn’t happy about that.” My lips parted as I wondered what that might mean, but Barnabas cleared his throat and looked to the silent kitchen. “We need to go. Nakita, are the cook and the waitress set?” Nakita was taking a picture of the dusty light fixture, holding the camera at a very odd angle. “They’re fine,” she said as she looked at the screen. “Where’s your wallet, Madison?” she asked. “Still in the truck?”

“Oh, yeah!” I said, turning back to my plate of food. “My phone is out there, too.” But when I looked at the golden, crispy fries, my reach for them hesitated. Slowly my smile evaporated, replaced by a feeling of despair.

“I’m not hungry anymore!” I wailed, and Nakita blinked at me. “Don’t you get it?” I cried, looking down at my amulet. “I was eating because my amulet wasn’t working right. Ron fixed it, and now I’m not hungry anymore!”

“Thank God for small favors,” Barnabas muttered as he pulled himself upright. “It was really gross, Madison.” Depressed, I sank back down. “But I like eating,” I said mournfully. Darn it, it wasn’t fair! Unhappy, I fingered a French fry. Grace dropped down, warming my hand as she offered condolences the only way she could—until she thought up a poem, that was.

“There once was a girl who liked fries,” Grace started, and Barnabas made an exasperated sound.

“Your wallet, Madison?” Nakita offered.

“Yeah, right.” I muttered, and I stood.

“Sorry, Madison,” Shoe said, clearly not understanding why fries were so important to me, but knowing I was upset.

“It’s okay.” Head down, I angled toward the door, slowing as my amulet seemed to grow heavy, warm almost, but a sudden thought pulled me to a stop. How had Nakita known my wallet was in the truck?

Suspicious, I spun back to the table, my guess borne out when I saw Barnabas’s eyes had silvered.

“What…wait!” I exclaimed, lurching back to the table. “Shoe! Don’t look at him!” Barnabas’s head swiveled to me. A drop of fear slid through me at his alien eyes, silver and glowing with a holy light. Across the table from him, Shoe gasped, breaking the grip Barnabas had on him and dropping his head.

Ace was already staring vacantly, his lips parted, clearly still under Barnabas’s influence.

“Madison!” Barnabas barked, eyes still glowing as Shoe rubbed his face and blinked.