Angel Fire (24 page)

For a moment Raziel thought he felt a flutter of resistance. He gave Charmeine a keen look. She lay against the sofa cushions with her eyes closed as he explored, her face untroubled. The faint feeling was gone just as quickly. Probing further, Raziel decided it hadn’t been hiding anything in particular.

Then his hand froze on her leg as he came across something.
What?
He checked again; he hadn’t been mistaken. He stared at Charmeine wordlessly.

“I was wondering when you’d find that,” she said without opening her eyes. “They told us a few days ago; it’s why we’re spending three weeks in Mexico City. I always thought it was sort of a long time just to appoint a church head.”

Raziel shook his head, still half-lost in the images he was getting. “
What
do they think they’ll accomplish by such a thing? They must be insane!”

Charmeine sat up as she glanced at him, her expression ironic. “Let’s just say they’re very eager for angels to remain angels. They think being in this world is turning us all into base gluttons, who indulge ourselves for pleasure instead of necessity. They don’t want us mixing with humans too much, except when we absolutely have to.”

It was hardly news. Raziel thought of the Twelve’s meeting with him in the conference room below, and snorted. Drumming the sofa, he considered the implications of what he’d just seen. Though the two dimensions had split off from each other eons ago, the human and angel worlds had once been one and the same – and this meant the Twelve, as First Formed, had links to this world’s energy. On its own, the fact didn’t worry him overmuch. The possible cost to the human world after the Council’s deaths had always seemed a low risk to him – it was the angels’ link to each other that was the main issue.

But now there was this mad plan of theirs: to use their connection with the Earth’s energy to bond with it and calm down places that felt “buzzy” to angels, so that angels around the world would be more inclined to resist their baser urges. How noble of them. And how...interesting, in terms of what consequences their deaths might now bring.

With a silken rustle, Charmeine swung her feet off his lap and sat close beside him. “You haven’t changed your mind, have you? Because I certainly haven’t, even if it does make things more of a gamble.”

Raziel had given her a withering look. “Are they going to back off and recognize my leadership here? What’s that – the answer’s no? Then no, I haven’t changed my mind either.”

Now, alone in his office, Raziel knew he’d increased their gamble even further by his impetuous statement to the press. Just to reassure himself that all was still well, he reached for the connection to Willow. He checked it often to keep abreast of the AKs’ progress, though had to admit that he also found the girl oddly intriguing in a way. Not to mention how surprised he’d been by her angel’s anxiety ever since he’d first entered her mind. On some deep level, Willow was obviously aware there was something amiss. While his daughter’s distress didn’t concern Raziel enough to try to soothe things for her, he did find it interesting. Her psychic skills were stronger than he’d thought.

His cellphone rang before he could get very far, jolting him back to his office. With a glance at the screen, he saw Charmeine’s name. She didn’t often get a chance to ring with updates; he snapped the phone open. “Yes? What is it?”

“Something’s up,” she said tightly.

Raziel cringed; he’d been waiting for this. “Let me guess – they saw my TV interview.”

She gave a snort. “Raz, the
whole world
saw your interview. Yes, of course they did, and they’re more annoyed than you can imagine. But no, that’s not what I meant. Something else has happened—” Charmeine broke off; he could feel her tension as she listened to something. “I have to go,” she said abruptly. “I’ll call you back when I can.”

“Wait! What’s going on? What—”

She was gone. Raziel swore, knowing he’d get nothing from her psychically now, other than whatever front she was putting on for the Twelve. He shoved his chair away and stood up, propping his hands on the window sill as he glared out at the mountains. In the distance, a heavy rain was falling, obscuring the peaks in dense cloud and heading his way.

“I’m going to take the team on a practice hunt tomorrow,” said Alex.

Kara was sprawled sideways on the battered armchair. She turned her head to look at him. “Are they ready?”

The two of them were in the TV room; the others were scattered around the house somewhere. Willow was helping Liz in the kitchen – Liz had thawed towards her enough to let her chop lettuce for a salad, or something. Alex didn’t hear them talking much, but supposed it was a start.

He shrugged. “As ready as they can be for now, without angel holographs to help train them. They’ve got to get some real-life experience.” He felt his lips move into a small, wintry smile. “Can you imagine what my dad would say? Taking a team on a hunt before they’ve had at least a year of training?”

Kara had on sweatpants and a tight, cropped T-shirt, showing the sleek muscles of her arms and stomach. She smiled too. “Vividly. It’s different times though, Al. I’m sure this is the right thing.”

He made a face, hoping she was right. His mind was already ticking over the details of the hunt; how best to manage it. Bosque de Chapultepec, the large, leafy city park off the Paseo de la Reforma, seemed the best bet to him – parts of it were kind of remote, and quiet during the week. If the team came across any feeding angels, they’d have space to manoeuvre and little chance of being seen. The important thing was keeping them all as safe as possible.

A news story had come on: another confrontation between the Crusaders and the Faithful. Alex gazed at the screen, only distantly taking in the shouting, angry faces. He’d known being in charge of a team would take over his life; what he hadn’t anticipated was how much he’d care about all of them – even the ones he didn’t particularly like.

It didn’t matter. Training them, being responsible for their lives – it just got under your skin; you got to know them in a way that transcended personal feeling. Sam, who Alex could cheerfully clout a dozen times a day, had still impressed him by buckling down these last few weeks and turning into a damn good shot. Liz was really okay, despite being so prickly sometimes – he’d seen how hard she’d worked to gain her shooting skills; how harsh she was on herself when she didn’t get it right. Brendan’s incessant talking grated, but Alex knew he’d miss him if he were gone. And Trish, with her freckled face and blue eyes, was almost like the glue that held them all together: smoothing quarrels, making sure everyone was getting along, so that the others gravitated towards her like a den mother.

Not to mention Wesley. Alex had sort of discounted him at first, not having time to delve into whatever the guy’s sullen deal was, as long as his training was coming along all right. Then one night he’d heard a noise in the range and gone to check – and there had been Wesley, at two o’clock in the morning, shooting targets on his own.

“Hey, aren’t I working you hard enough?” Alex had joked.

A flush had stained Wesley’s dark cheeks. He’d hastily put the gun back in the weapons cabinet, while behind him the target still bounced on its chain. “Couldn’t sleep,” he muttered.

Suddenly the truth had hit Alex. “Wait a minute – you do this a lot, don’t you? That’s why your score’s been improving so much lately.”

Willow had told him Wesley was shy; Alex hadn’t really believed it until now – a scowl was coming over his face, but underneath it he just looked mortified. “Look, I’ve got to get it right, okay? I’m not keeping anyone awake or anything.”

“I didn’t say you were.” Alex leaned his shoulder against the wall. “But staying up all night won’t help; you need to get a good night’s sleep.”

Christ, he sounded like his dad. Mentally rolling his eyes at himself, Alex had started to say something else – and stopped as Wesley burst out, “You don’t understand! I’ve
got
to get it. It’s my only chance to get back at the angels, I can’t—” He broke off. The flush crept down to his neck; he crossed his arms over his chest and looked away.

Alex had slowly come away from the wall. “Angel burn?” he guessed.

Wesley swallowed. “My, um...my whole family. My mom was...was CIA; that’s how I...” He trailed off.

Painful understanding had stirred through Alex, as he realized how much they had in common. “I never knew that,” he said at last.

Wesley was already looking sorry that he’d mentioned it. “Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone, okay? I don’t want to
talk
about it, I just want to
get
it.”

“You are getting it,” Alex had said quietly. “You’re doing really well. Look, no more practising this time of night, all right? Take an extra hour first thing in the morning if you want; no one will ask you any questions. But I need you in top form – and that includes getting enough sleep.”

The target slowly swung to a complete stop; around them the house felt heavy with silence. Finally Wesley had nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

There hadn’t been any big, dramatic change in Wesley after that; he was still closed-off and didn’t talk much. But as Alex stared at the TV, he realized that he felt like he knew the guy now. He knew all of them, just from watching them grow, change, get better – and he’d make sure they stayed safe through this, no matter what it took.

“Is Willow going on the hunt?” asked Kara.

Alex glanced at her; she sat curled up in the armchair with her forearm draped across its back. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

Though Willow didn’t think so, she was doing great for someone who’d never touched a gun before – but she wasn’t up to fighting angels yet. Leaving aside his fears for her safety, Alex knew that her angel self was incredibly useful in combat. Yet if an angel saw what she was and got away... He winced, seeing again the battle in the courtyard and the angel speeding off down the street.

“I don’t know,” he repeated, massaging his temples idly. Not a migraine this time, just a headache that had been grumbling at him for hours.

Kara glanced down at her bright red fingernails, turning them this way and that. “Can I ask you something?”

He gave her a wary look, holding back a dry smile. “If this is about my sex life again...”

“No, not that. It’s just – well, I’ve been wondering why you haven’t used her angel to help train them.”

Alex shrugged. “It doesn’t have a halo. And I don’t know what would happen if someone got excited and shot at it – whether that would hurt Willow or not.”

“But that could happen on a hunt, too,” Kara pointed out.

“Yeah, it could,” he agreed. It was another reason why he wasn’t convinced about taking Willow: the possibility of Sam or someone getting all adrenalin-rushed and trigger-happy with her angel in flight.

“If you want my advice, I don’t think she should go,” said Kara after a pause. “I mean, I know you’ve made it clear to everyone that she’s part of the team, but...”

“But she’s not, really,” finished Alex sharply.

“I’m not saying it’s her fault,” said Kara. “It’s just that the others still don’t really trust her.”

Alex felt a ripple of annoyance. “Well, then it’s about time they got over it. Besides, they trust her a lot more than they did.”

Kara sounded like she was choosing her words carefully. “They’ve gotten sort of used to having her in the house; it’s not quite the same thing. Look, I just don’t think taking her along on the first hunt would be great for morale when everyone’s going to be nervous enough as it is. And she’s not that competent with a gun yet anyway – there’s more minuses than pluses, that’s all.”

Her tone was so reasonable that it made Alex’s teeth grit together. “Okay, I think you’ve convinced me,” he said finally.

“You’re not going to take her?”

“No, I am,” said Alex. “Because she
is
part of the team, and you and the others need to start seeing her that way. She already can’t take part in the Council attack, or go into the cathedral. But there’s not too much danger on a hunt like this, where we’re all out in the open and can manoeuvre. There’s no way I’m going to tell her she can’t come.”

Kara nodded, obviously unconvinced. “Okay. Your call.” She fell silent, gazing at the TV as a commercial came on. When the news started again, she said, “You really love her, don’t you?”

He glanced over, taken aback by the wistful note in her voice. “Yeah, I do,” he said. “More than anything.”

Kara’s mouth twisted; she looked down at her nails again. “I can tell. It’s nice, you know? Once I thought that maybe me and Jake...” She trailed off.

Alex sat up a little, staring at her – and then realized he wasn’t that surprised. She and Jake had always been close, though he knew his brother had given up hoping anything would ever happen; Jake had told him once how he’d made a play for Kara and been completely shot down. Suddenly Alex felt as wistful as Kara had just sounded. God, Jake had been crazy about Kara, way beyond Alex’s own adolescent crush on her. Getting together with her would have made him so incredibly happy.

“So...why didn’t you?” he asked.

Kara sighed, propping her chin on her hand. “Oh, I don’t know. He still had some growing up to do. Mostly, I think I just didn’t want to mess up our friendship. But life’s too short; you’ve got to go for it – what happened to Jake taught me that.” She fell silent as she ran a finger along the arm of the chair. Then she said in a low voice, “Speaking of going for it...you’re a lot like him, you know. I mean, a lot like how I hoped he’d turn out to be.”

Alex’s gaze flew to hers. Her brown eyes were serious, unwavering. Christ, this couldn’t actually be what it sounded like, could it? He cleared his throat, half sure she was going to burst out laughing. “Look, um...Kara—”

Her hand went up, stopping him. “It’s okay. I know you’re in love with Willow. I’m just sayin’, that’s all.” She unfolded herself from the chair and came over to him; kissed his forehead with lips that were warm and gentle. “Don’t worry, I won’t say it again. I don’t want to complicate things for you. You’re a good guy, Al. The best. And if things are ever different...” She shrugged, gave a small smile. “Well, who knows?”