Angel Fire (11 page)

“Don’t let me hold you back,” I said, looking up at him. “I’m serious.”

He let out a breath; I could see the conflict in his blue-grey eyes. Still studying the square, he put his arm around me. “No, I’m not going to leave you on your own with angels around.”

“Alex, it’s okay. I can take care of myself.”

“Your angel self can,” he agreed. “But until you learn how to shoot, your human self is so vulnerable it gives me nightmares. Willow, all it would take would be two angels ganging up on you, and they’d rip your life force away.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. Okay, I didn’t exactly have an answer for that.

Alex squeezed my hand, then glanced at the roof of the parked car behind us. “Come on. Let’s sit up here where we can keep an eye on things; see why your psychic powers brought us here.”

He vaulted nimbly onto the car’s hood and then the roof, leaning over to help me up. Plenty of people around us were doing the same, though presumably in their case the cars in question were their own. Some had even brought coolers full of beer and food, as if the concert were a giant Fourth of July picnic. The night was mild – apparently the weather here was like a perpetual springtime.

Trying to ignore the angels, I stared out at the square, with its buildings that looked so completely unlike anything in the United States. Especially the cathedral. It was actually
two
cathedrals: the massive main one with its tiered bell towers and angel-topped dome, and then another, smaller, one just beside it, with ornate stonework framing a broad wooden door.

“The tabernacle,” said Alex, following my gaze. “I think it was built at a later date – I’m not sure why.”

I nodded slowly, taking it all in: the ancient-looking stone, the cars, the vibrant crowd. There was a real buzz in the air – and not only here; I’d been noticing it ever since we got into the city. It tickled at my senses like something tangible.

“Mexico City is just amazing,” I said, sitting cross-legged on the metal roof. We hadn’t had a chance to buy other clothes yet; I was wearing Alex’s red plaid shirt over my camisole. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Alex shrugged; I knew he wasn’t much of a city person at heart. “Yeah, it’s like New York on a caffeine jag. Jake loved it when we were here on hunts – he used to drag me clubbing every night we could sneak out.”

The momentary sadness crossed his face that always came whenever he mentioned his brother. I pressed against him, slipping my arm around his waist, and he managed a smile. “Anyway, the angels love it here, too – something about the energy really draws them.” His eyes went to the cathedral again and he shook his head. “They must have a complete stranglehold here now – and the Second Wave angels probably haven’t even arrived yet.”

By the time a band called
Los Ángeles Amigos
came on – four guys wearing angel wings and a girl singer with a slightly crooked halo – the square was packed with people and there were over two dozen real angels gliding around overhead. It was ironic, I guess: as rock music celebrating the angels beat through the night, the angels themselves dipped and turned, taking their time as they chose which human to feed from. Occasionally one dove, disappearing into the dancing crowd. On the next car, the people on the roof had their arms around each other, singing along with the music. Alex and I watched in silence, holding hands.

Finally the band stopped; a woman in a short red dress stepped onstage and grabbed the mic. She shouted something about “
los ángeles
” – “the angels” – her voice booming out through the speakers.

“
Sí!
” roared the crowd.

“Let me guess,” I said to Alex, leaning close so he’d hear. “
Do you love the angels?
”

He smiled wryly. “Got it in one.”

The woman called out something else. “
Are you happy they’re with us?
” Alex translated, his lips a warm tickle against my ear as the crowd screamed, “
Sí! Sí!
”

The woman crouched down on her high heels, flinging one arm up as she shouted a third time. Noise thundered through the night; the crowd went berserk, screaming and jumping up and down.

Alex started to speak, then broke off, straightening abruptly. I caught my breath as I saw it too. One of the angels had just dodged to the left, its great wings slicing through the air. The angel paused, hovering, as it seemed to look around it. With a sudden flurry it darted aside again.

And then, on the far side of the square, another angel vanished in a petal-pattern of radiance, like a firework going off over the crowd. Pieces of light drifted to the ground.

I stared dumbly as they twinkled in the floodlights. I could hardly get the words out. “Is – is there anything else that can cause that?”

When Alex spoke, his voice sounded rough. “No,” he said. “No, there isn’t. Somebody just shot an angel.”

We glanced at each other. I felt the tense excitement pulsing through him; it matched my own. There was another AK out there in the crowd – someone else who knew how to fight the angels. More than one in fact, because back towards the stage, two angels were flying towards the one who had first dodged – and suddenly one of
them
lunged to the side too, as if avoiding a bullet. At the same moment, the first angel jerked away again with a bright shimmer.

“At least three gunmen,” murmured Alex. The muscles in his forearms looked taut. “Christ, there’s a whole team of AKs out there.”

“
Can
there be?” I said in a daze. “I thought you were the only one!”

“I don’t know – maybe the CIA set up another group down here without telling us, or maybe someone else figured out how to fight them—” Alex broke off, tapping the car roof as he watched the scene. “Jesus, why are you letting them go on the offensive?” he muttered to the unseen AKs. “They know you’re there, just
shoot
them already!”

As he spoke, one of the three angels twisted nimbly to the side, wings glinting. I went cold as it hit me: the AKs
were
shooting at the angels; they were shooting at them almost non-stop.

But they were missing.

I knew from Alex that everyone missed sometimes; an angel’s halo wasn’t an easy target, especially when they were in motion. You had to be accurate a lot more often than you weren’t, though. If you missed too many times, then what was going on right now happened: the angels realized you were there, and moved in for the kill.

Distantly, I saw another angel burst into nothingness at the opposite end of the square, but couldn’t take my eyes off the disaster that was unfolding here, near the stage. The three angels glided in a hunting pack, and now I could tell they’d spotted the gunmen below: there was a sudden decisiveness to their moves, a deadly certainty in the way they banked as one and started plunging downwards.

The AKs obviously saw it too. There was a flurry of motion in the crowd; a small group of people shoving their way through the throng, panic giving them strength. “Get away,
hurry
,” I whispered. My hands were clenched. The gunmen burst out of the other side of the square, and then went racing away down a busy road. They turned into what looked like an alleyway; the three angels headed after them, gliding with an ominous lack of haste.

Alex swore as he jumped off the car. “The
idiots –
why are they going for an enclosed space, where they can get backed against a wall? They’re all about to be killed.” He yanked on his helmet.

I’d already slid off the car behind him and was grabbing for my own helmet. “Can we get through the crowd?” I asked, raising my voice over the sound of the next band that had just come on. The street was full of hundreds of pedestrians milling around, dancing to the music. Lots of them wore angel wings, feathery and surreal in the half-light.

“We’ve got to,” said Alex shortly. We straddled the bike and he revved it; at the sound of the engine, the people nearby gave way. He nudged the Shadow through as fast as he could, honking the horn. Finally we reached the main road and he opened up the accelerator with a roar. As we sped south, I could just see the flock of three, heading away over the buildings. Alex did too; he took off after them, weaving in and out of traffic. They vanished from view and he took an abrupt turn, and then another, sending us hurtling around corners.

The angels were nowhere in sight.

Suddenly I could
feel
which way we should go, throbbing through me with absolute conviction. “That way!” I shouted in Alex’s ear, pointing to a street off to the right. He took it, and soon we were barrelling down a long road that was mostly businesses, run-down and seedy. Behind a faded pink stucco house, the tips of the angels’ wings flashed in and out of view.

Alex screeched to a halt. In the sudden silence we could hear shouts. Bars covered the windows; a wrought-iron gate stood open, showing the drive. No lights – the place almost seemed abandoned, except for a white van. I felt Alex’s energy lift again, scanning quickly.

“All three of them are back there,” he muttered, flinging his helmet off.

I looked at the house...and the moment froze. My scalp prickled as the darkness of the barred windows reeled me in like a black hole. Something was going to happen here – something that would make both of us so unhappy.

I shook the idea away; it had to just be nerves or something. But the coldness remained, and as the frightened shouts rang through the night, they almost seemed to be coming from inside my own head, dreading whatever was to come.

Willow stood motionless, staring up at the house with wide eyes. “Come on!” said Alex. He grabbed her hand, and she seemed to return to herself with a start. They raced down the driveway as the shouts grew louder.

“Get away from me!” yelled someone. The words were in English; the voice sounded American. The faint thud of silenced gunfire came from nearby.

The drive ended. Alex pressed against the side of the house, deftly screwing on his own pistol’s silencer before peering around the back.

A chaos of scrambling bodies; three angels swooping about like giant moths to a flame. There were five AKs – two girls and three guys – and they were shouting, waving their guns around. The angels were toying with them, Alex saw grimly – laughing as they darted towards their opponents and then away again, biding their time before they ripped their life forces away.

They were in a concrete courtyard; there was a back door with a light over it, casting a circle of luminance like a bizarre stage set. A muscular blond guy stood in the spotlight’s centre, grasping a gun with both hands and swinging it wildly.

“Come on,
cabrona
!” he screamed at a female angel. “Come and get me!” His accent was pure Texan.

Alex saw the angel decide it had had enough of playing; it went high and then dove at the guy, screeching. Alex tracked the creature as it moved, aiming for the pure, bright blue at the centre of its halo. Even through his concentration, he was shaking his head. Tex was flailing about so frantically he’d be lucky not to blow one of his friends away.

“Oh god, one’s about to get that girl,” burst out Willow. With a smooth shiver her angel form appeared; her human body was still crouched at his side, eyes closed now as she concentrated.

“Willow, no,” he started. “Seriously, stay back—”

Her angel had already sped away, heading towards the cement wall that bordered the courtyard. Wings outspread, she swooped over a dark-haired girl with a sharp face, protecting her. The attacking angel drew back with a surprised hiss; the girl flinched and gaped upwards.

“I can’t just let it kill her!” said the human Willow at his side. “I’ll be okay.” Alex gritted his teeth and tried not to worry. Willow’s life force was in her human body, not her angel one – but neither of them knew what might happen if her angel self got injured somehow.

The diving angel was still corkscrewing down, wings flashing. Aiming again, Alex shot; the creature seemed to sense him, dodging aside at the last moment. He shot again, anticipating the move this time, and the angel erupted into a million pieces of light. Tex gave a yelp as the shockwave blew him backwards, off his feet.

One down, two to go. Alex glanced again at the girl cowering by the wall. Above, Willow’s angel darted about like a shining bird as she held off the attacking female. The angel was beating its wings fiercely as it tried to get past her. Willow’s angel was smaller than average – only barely larger than her human form – but incredibly nimble in the air, like a kestrel.

“You!” Alex heard the female angel hiss. “Half-human
thing
—”

The remaining angel had been about to dive; overhearing, it twisted in the air, looking for Willow’s human form. Alex lifted his gun as it spotted her in the drive. It came at them in a rush of light; Alex shot and the creature veered away sharply...and then it soared off and disappeared over the back wall.

Remembering the dozens of angels in the square, Alex’s pulse quickened in alarm. Oh, Christ, the thing had gone to get them – in minutes they’d have an angel army coming down on their heads, all of them intent on killing Willow.

He broke from the shadows, pounding across the courtyard where Willow’s angel still feinted with the female. No one seemed to have realized he was there; he saw a rush of startled faces as he lunged at the wall; scaled it quickly and dropped to the ground. He ran down an alleyway, bursting out onto another street. The angel was flying fast, heading away from him.

“Hey!” shouted Alex, his feet pummelling the pavement as he ran. “
Hey!
”

The creature whirled in surprise as Alex shot. Rage creased its glorious face and it came at him, swooping down like a giant bird of prey. It was faster than he’d expected. Alex dove to the ground as the angel screeched overhead, its fingers grasping towards his life force. He rolled and was up on one knee in seconds, wishing for his rifle; it handled ten times better in situations like this. The thought flashed past. He took aim as the angel roared towards him again in a fury of light and beauty, taking care not to look into its eyes, to keep his gaze only on the halo—