Angel Burn (45 page)

He would have preferred to put a thousand miles between them and the church, but it wasn’t happening tonight. He could feel tiredness overtaking him, like a dark undertow pulling at his skull. He drove for as long as he dared, taking them to a town called Trinidad, in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains in the southern part of the state. He stopped at the first motel he came to, sweeping into the parking lot and idling to a stop. His muscles stiff from the cold mountain air, he helped Willow off the bike. In the glow of the streetlights, she was pale and wide-eyed as she pulled the helmet off, clearly as exhausted as he was.

She had never been more beautiful.

For a moment they just stood in the parking lot gazing at each other, drinking each other in. Alex thought that he’d never get enough of simply looking at Willow from now on, not if they both lived to be a hundred. The dark bulk of the mountains rose up in the background, and a single car passed by on the quiet late-night street. He touched her face; she put her hand over his, rubbing her cheek against his palm. Bending his head, he kissed her slowly, savoring the softness of her lips, the warmth of her. She was alive. Somehow, somehow, he still had her. With a soft sigh, Willow wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against him. Alex held her, dropping his cheek to her hair and stroking her back.

He kept his arm around her shoulders as they went inside, and she almost fell asleep as he was checking in, slumped wearily against his chest. He wasn’t much more awake himself. On the way to their room, Willow staggered and he picked her up, carrying her down the hallway. Shifting her in his arms, he managed to unlock the door and get them both inside, leaning to shut it behind him. He turned on the lights with his shoulder.

Lying Willow down on the bed, Alex stretched out beside her. She cuddled against him, and he drew her close, shaping his body around hers. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep just yet — the lights were still on; they were both fully dressed — but when he opened his eyes again, it felt like several hours had passed. Rousing himself, he gently undid Willow’s hair, taking the pins out and uncoiling it so that it fell freely around her shoulders. She blinked drowsily, only half waking. He helped her off with her shoes and sweater, her jeans. Stripping off his own jeans and T-shirt, he turned the lights out and got them both under the covers.

Willow nestled against him. He smoothed her long hair down the back of her T-shirt, feeling its softness. In a few moments she fell asleep again, her breathing warm and regular against his chest. Alex kissed her head, his arms tightening around her. As he drifted back to sleep himself, he saw a brief flash of the thousands of angels streaming in, but right then it seemed distant, almost unimportant. The only thing that mattered was that he was lying in a bed holding Willow, their bare legs entwined.

It was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life.

I woke up in a soft bed, hearing Alex’s voice. I opened my eyes slowly. We were in a motel room, shadowy with the curtains drawn, and he was sitting on the edge of the bed talking to someone on the phone. I lay gazing at the firm lines of his back, feeling a joy so deep that there were no words for it. It hadn’t been a dream; he had really come. We were really together again.

He hung up and slid back under the covers, his arms wrapping around me, drawing me close. “You’re awake,” he murmured, kissing my temple.

I nodded and snuggled tightly against him. “Who was that?” I whispered against his shoulder.

“I got the room for another night,” he said, rubbing my arm. His head was on the pillow, his eyes closed. “I don’t even want to move today; I just want to lie here and hold you.”

We both nodded off again. When we woke up, it was midafternoon and the sunshine angling in around the curtains was bright and strong.

For a long time, we just lay in bed talking, describing what had happened since we’d been apart. Alex’s expression hardened when I told him about Sophie leaving. “OK, so she’s in a safe location now, and she just left you there. Got it”

I sighed. “I understand, I guess  . . .  it just made me realize how much they really expected me to die.” And Nate
had
died. I remembered Raziel’s sneering reference to “the traitor” and felt a pang for the angel who’d believed so strongly that his kind didn’t have the right to destroy humanity.

I played with the edge of the sheet, looking down. “Alex, I can’t believe that Raziel is my  . . . ” I stopped; I couldn’t say the word.

“Only biologically,” he said. “Willow, he’s got nothing to do with you. He never did; it doesn’t matter who he is.”

The sheet was as white as an angel’s wings. I let go of it. “I know you’re right. It’s just strange, now that I’ve seen him with my own eyes. And to realize that he knows who I am, too. I really wish he didn’t.”

“Yeah,” said Alex curtly. “And I wish I hadn’t missed his halo.”

I couldn’t actually wish for Raziel’s death, no matter how much I hated him — but I wouldn’t have been heartbroken if Alex had succeeded. I sat up against my pillows, hugging my knees as I remembered the thousands of angels I’d seen above his head when I first opened my eyes.

“I — I wonder what went wrong,” I said. “Whether it’s that the angelica would never have worked after all, or if I just got to the gate too late once Beth started screaming?”

“I don’t know,” said Alex. There was a long pause as he glided his hand up and down my arm. Finally he said, “Pretty soon, I know that I’m really going to hate the fact that there are more angels in the world  . . .  but right now, all I feel is so incredibly glad that you’re still alive.”

I gave a small nod. “I know. I wish I’d been able to stop it, but I can’t be sorry to be alive — and to be with you.” I studied his blue-gray eyes, so startling under their black lashes. “Alex, that’s all I ever want — just to be with you.”

He fingered a strand of my hair. “Don’t worry; you will be,” he said softly. Our gazes met, and my heart went tight at the look on his face. Though we were barely touching, it somehow felt deeper than any kiss we’d ever shared.

When Alex described how he’d gotten to Denver and what had happened at the cathedral, he kept it short, his tone almost terse — but I got the idea.

“Oh, Alex  . . . ” I touched his cheek, unable to say anything else. The thought of him holding me, believing I was dead  . . . 

Letting out a breath, he reached up and squeezed my hand, his eyes never leaving mine. “All that matters is that you’re alive,” he said. “I’d go through it a hundred times again to have you.”

A faint, dreamlike memory came back. I shook my head in wonder. “I remember it. . . . I could feel myself going, sort of drifting down a long hallway. And then you were there, bringing me back. It was like you were pulling on me, tugging me . . . ”

Wordlessly, Alex kissed my palm.

I stared at him, remembering the incredulous joy that had flooded through me when I first opened my eyes and saw him. “I thought I’d never see you again,” I whispered.

He traced a finger down my face as if he was memorizing it. “Five minutes after you left, I was in the truck,” he said roughly. “I knew I’d made the biggest mistake of my life. Everything I said, the way I acted  . . .  letting you go alone —” His jaw tensed. “Can you forgive me?”

I felt tears come to my eyes. “Alex, you don’t even have to ask me that.”

“Yes, I do,” he said. “I should be down on my knees, asking.”

“No! I know what you were going through. . . .” His eyes stayed on mine, unwavering. My throat constricted. “Of course I forgive you. Don’t even mention it again.”

Closing his eyes with a sigh, he drew me into his arms. “From the second you left, all I could I think of was getting to Denver in time, so I could be there with you, holding you. . . . Willow, if you had died, I wouldn’t have wanted to live, either.”

“I know,” I murmured against his shoulder. “I feel the same way. Flying away from you was  . . .  awful, so awful. Alex, I’m sorry, too, but I had to do it. I had to at least try —”

He pulled away. “Don’t apologize! Of course you had to try. I
knew
that; I just couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to you. And then when I got to the church and thought I was too late. . . .” He fell silent. I could feel his tension; it was coming off him in great waves. Finally he swallowed and said, “I thought — I thought you were going to die, and that it would be like Jake.”

The muscles in his arms were rigid. I hesitated, not sure whether to ask — but it was something that had been bothering him for so, so long. “Alex  . . .  how did he die?”

At first I thought he wasn’t going to answer; then he looked down and cleared his throat. “We, um — we were on a hunt in Los Angeles,” he said. “Jake and I would play this game sometimes, where one of us lured an angel in and the other shot it. We weren’t supposed to put ourselves at risk like that; Cully would have killed us if he’d known. Anyway, we were right beside one of the canyons above the city, and Jake was the lure. And  . . .  the angel went for him, and I shot it — and then I went over to Jake, and we sort of — high-fived, you know. . . .”

He stopped, and I had another flash of the dark-haired boy with Alex’s eyes, sitting on a wall beside a canyon. He was grinning, lifting his hand.
Good one, bro. She didn’t even see it coming.
I could feel Alex’s dread just remembering this, and I wished I hadn’t asked him. I kissed his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, it’s all right.” He took an uneven breath. “Um  . . .  so basically, there was another angel — they’d been hunting in a pair. I didn’t scan again before I put my gun away; I didn’t even see it. It came flying out of nowhere at us, and Jake jerked backward — and I managed to get the angel, but Jake had fallen. . . .”

Alex trailed off and my heart twisted; I’d never seen him look so young, so vulnerable. Fighting tears, I hugged him as hard as I could and felt his arms tighten around me. “It was my fault,” he got out. “He trusted me, and I let him down. We got him to the hospital, but it was too late; he was too —” He stopped.

“It
wasn’t
your fault,” I said. “Alex, the same thing might have happened if Jake had been holding the gun. It was just a mistake; it could have happened to anyone.”

When he spoke, his voice sounded flat, weary. “You can’t make mistakes on a hunt. Not like that.”

I drew back, looking into his eyes. “All right,” I said. “But if it
had
happened that way, if it had been Jake who’d made the mistake — would you forgive him?”

He stared at me without answering. I saw his throat move.

“Alex, you know you would,” I said, stroking his tattoo. “So please, forgive yourself, OK? Please.” I kissed his cheeks, his brow, his mouth.

He sat very still as I peppered him with kisses, as if he was hardly breathing. Slowly, I felt the tension in him ease. Catching my head in his hands, he gazed at me; neither of us moved for a moment. “I love you,” he said.

The words didn’t seem like enough, but they were all I had. “I love you, too. I love you so much, Alex.”

He kissed me, so gently at first that I melted. I pressed close against him as the kiss deepened, curling my arms around his neck and tumbling into pure sensation. The softness of his hair as I ran my fingers through it; his warm hands on my skin, caressing me. It felt so, so good. I’d been afraid that I’d never have this again — this sense of being so achingly alive that every nerve ending was on fire.

When we finally came up for air, we were lying facing each other, both of us smiling. Alex touched my eyebrow, lightly sketching its curve. Under the covers, my foot was against his bare leg; I tickled my toes up his calf. From outside I could hear the faint drone of traffic, a bird singing.

Then I thought of something not so funny and almost laughed.

“So  . . .  I guess we don’t really have any clothes, do we? Except what we had on yesterday. We don’t have much of anything else, either.”

Alex shook his head and sat up a little. “No, the truck’s probably been towed by now with all our stuff; we wouldn’t be able to get it back without our names on the registration anyway. My bag’s still at the cabin with our clothes. We could try going up there on the bike, I guess, but  . . . ”

“It doesn’t really feel safe there now,” I finished, sitting up, too.

“No. It doesn’t to me, either.”

Sadness touched me as I thought of the cabin — all the hours that we’d spent talking there, playing cards, holding each other. But it was only a place; it wasn’t important. The important thing was being together.

“So what now?” I said.

He smoothed my hair away from my face, playing with its strands. “Well, the first thing — the main thing — is that I’m never letting you out of my sight again. Whatever happens from now on, it’s together.”

I touched the pendant on my chest, feeling its smooth facets. “Always,” I said softly. And joy flooded through me, that we still had a chance at it.

“As for a plan  . . . ” Alex rested his forearms on his knees, his eyebrows drawing together as he thought. “Well, we know that Project Angel still exists — barely. I guess Sophie will start it up again, once she gets tired of her safe location.”

I pulled my own knees to my chest as I watched him. “Would you want to be involved with her again?”

He snorted. “No. I don’t trust the CIA; I don’t like how they work. What about you?”

I shook my head. She hadn’t given me any contact details, anyway, I realized. She’d been that certain that I was going to die.

Alex tapped his fingers on his knee. “To be honest, Mexico still sounds pretty good to me,” he said. “We’re going to need a safe base, and I don’t think we’ll find one in this country anymore. Plus, it’s pretty cheap; I’ve only got about six hundred dollars left. We could find someplace safe down there, and I could try to get some new AKs together, get things started.” He linked his fingers through mine. “How does that sound to you?”

I hadn’t wanted to think about this, but I knew I had to ask it. Gazing down at his hand in mine, I said slowly, “Alex, do you think that I might still be the one to destroy the angels? I mean, it could happen, even though it didn’t this time. Not that I really want to try again anytime soon, but  . . . ” I stopped, knowing that as unspeakably horrible as the last few days had been, I would go through it all again, if it meant that the angels would be destroyed. I didn’t want to; I hated the thought. But I would.