Battle Angel (8 page)

Sylvester nodded. “There has to be a way to get at the head demon. And we’re going to find it. No matter what,” Sylvester said. “But we’ll need some Angels to go after it.”

“You’re right,” Susan said. “We need the Angels now more than ever. Only our kind could find this head demon and exterminate him.”

Now it was Sylvester’s turn to flush. He was touched that Susan still considered him an Angel, that she didn’t see his disgrace and dewinging as an indelible stain forever.

“The Angels. We have to get them back, David. It’s our duty,” Susan said. “For years I taught these Guardians. I put everything into training them. I believed in it. Just as you did. And then I slowly started to see what was happening. I first started to doubt them when . . .” She paused and looked at Sylvester. “When they did what they did to you so many years ago. When they took your wings.”

Sylvester blushed and coughed into his hand. “Thank you. For your . . . kindness.”

“I could never be anything but kind to you, David,” Susan said. She smiled lightly, placing her hand on the detective’s arm. It was strange, the feeling of that touch through his wrinkled dress shirt. It almost startled him. The touch of an Angel could do miraculous things.

A knock on the door interrupted their private conversation.

“Archangel Archson? Tech has a question for you,” a young woman with glasses said, oblivious to the moment she’d just walked in on.

“I’ll be right there.” Susan was gone in a few moments, the elegant Archangel following the resistance volunteer into the buzzing hive of workers.

Sylvester followed and returned to his desk—and the map beside it. He sighed, pulling his glasses off and looking at the dust that had accrued on the lenses. He started wiping them with his shirt, then sat down at his desk and poured himself a steaming cup of joe from his seemingly bottomless thermos of coffee.

He put on his freshly cleaned glasses and looked out across the open work area that had just been set up this morning, at the wide-eyed kids just barely out of college, the veteran Angels, his ACPD partner, plus several dissidents and former Angel activists. All brought together by his and Susan’s efforts, with their undercover mole helping inside the sanctuary. They were a motley crew if ever there was one.

What would they be able to stop from here? Anything?

But they had no choice. They had to keep going. Any alternative was too bleak to consider.

M
addy woke with an unuttered scream on her lips, her hands desperately clawing in front of her as if defending herself. It took her a moment to remember that she’d made her way back to Kevin’s house to recover after her near-death save by the 101. She gasped for breath as she sat up, drawing her tangle of sheets around her shivering frame. Cold sweat clung to her goose-pimpled skin, collecting in a small stream along the small of her back.

She’d had the dream again.

For the past two days she’d been plagued by a recurring nightmare interrupting her sleep like clockwork throughout the night. She kept seeing the same, unblinking visage. Of death. On the blasphemous face of a Dark One on the 101 freeway, just like the one she’d saved the Vespa girl from. In the nightmare, the demon would emerge unscathed from a crater, its body shimmering black smoke and fire, and stare right at Maddy.

Then, instead of flying off, the demon would slowly stride toward her. With terror coursing through her veins even in sleep, Dream Maddy would try to escape. Her now-trained wings would pump once, then twice—and nothing. Her feet were somehow stuck to the ground. She couldn’t take off. In desperation she would try to run. But her feet merely became even more glued to the earth, until her legs wouldn’t move. She was paralyzed. Then the sky would grow dark, far darker than it had been on the day of the first attack.

The nightmare demon would take its time as it walked toward her, its terrible gnarled limbs swinging with confidence. Its horns towered over its hideous face, and spikes rippled along its back as it loped. Its black-red eyes would flicker, and it was as if the demon felt a distinct pleasure as it came closer.

Dream Maddy’s skin would then grow hotter and hotter as the Dark Angel drew itself closer. So hot it felt as if Maddy’s skin were somehow melting from inside. And still the demon came.

Was it smiling now?

The bloodred orb of its eye would draw closer and closer until it seemed to encompass Maddy’s entire field of vision. The sensation was unendurable as she would struggle, to no avail, to escape.

The Dark One would then lean down, closer and closer, and open its dread mouth. In her dream, Maddy knew then that she was going to die. The demon’s stinking, sulfurous breath blistered her skin as it hissed her name.

“Maddy . . .”

At the end of the nightmare, Maddy would always open her mouth to scream, but no sound would come out. It was too late.

The dream was always the same, and always so much more vivid than any normal nightmare. This dream had the ultrareal quality she felt whenever she focused on someone’s frequency or had one of her unbidden premonitions. It was a fevered hallucination in her slumbering brain, but somehow more real than reality itself. It never failed to shake her to her very core.

Pulling herself together, Maddy looked out the window and saw it was still pitch-dark outside, in the small hours of the night. The cold sweat had already begun to evaporate and her fast breathing had calmed down, but there was no chance she’d get back to sleep for a while. Stepping out of bed, Maddy shivered and pulled her oversize T-shirt down closer to her knees as she searched for her pajama pants. She slipped them on, went to the window, and slowly opened the curtains.

There was the Angel City sign. It had been such an important marker for her during her childhood, giving her something to rail against while everyone else venerated the Angels. Then, when she met Jacks and later discovered her own half-Angel heritage, it took on two completely new meanings.

Now the sign was cloaked in darkness. Power was scarce in the Immortal City right now, and on war footing it made no sense to light the sign. As she drew her arms around her chest to keep warm, Maddy thought of how people across the city could no longer look to the hill and its gleaming beacon to orient themselves, or to give them a signpost, something to hope, dream, and wish on. Instead it was a void, reminding the entire city of how bleak their situation was becoming.

The sign was dark, and the Angels were silent.

Maddy’s gaze crossed over the neighborhoods below the phantom sign, which had also been plunged into eerie darkness. The power had failed again in the night, and she walked now to her bedside lamp and to test the switch. Nothing.

The Immortal City was now entirely dark, its flashy lights and beaming billboards of perfect Angels having receded into the shadows. Residents in the city moved quickly back and forth between darkened homes, fearfully looking up at the sky for the next demon attack, and Humvee units, spread way too thin, patrolled the streets to prevent looting and to help those in need.

The severity and quickness of the first wave of the demon attack two days earlier took most everyone by utter surprise. But now they knew what the demons were capable of, and they knew more were coming. Many more, an untold number. Each one capable of causing unimaginable havoc and bloodshed equal to a major natural disaster.

The city staggered under the constant threat of demons. Evacuation routes had been totally destroyed, the supplies had all but stopped coming in, and the demons kept waging random terrorist attacks. But the worst part was the waiting: Why wouldn’t the demons just get it over with?

Maddy walked in darkness to her desk and found the candle and matches she always kept ready. With a spark against the rough strip along the box, the match head flared and lit. She brought the flame to the wick of the candle, hot wax drips falling onto the desk as it caught. The flickering flame cast her face in a warm yellow-orange, the corners of the room still lingering in darkness.

The city would wake to another morning under siege. At this point they were waiting, helpless, for the next demon assault. Any plans the city had ever made for emergencies proved to be worse than useless under the stress of a demon invasion, and instructions that looked good on paper turned to chaos and panic as soon as an actual emergency occurred. And now those who remained barricaded themselves behind boarded-up windows. They stayed inside, rationing food and water, waiting for the inevitable main strike from the demon army just lying off the coast.

The demons knew what they were doing, in the most terrible way—they were trying to crush Angel City’s spirit before they even fully invaded.

Maddy sighed and tried not to brood. The night was still long. No rays of dawn cut through the darkness outside.

But it had been two days, and she still hadn’t heard from Tom. A brief message had arrived via navy messenger that he was alive after the first wave, and she knew the navy had been fighting isolated battles near the sinkhole itself these past few days, but communications were spotty. And she still couldn’t focus on his frequency.

To top everything off, Maddy felt so useless just sitting here in Angel City. She’d never been trained for battle of any kind. But was she really just supposed to wait for the next full attack and hope she managed to grab onto a frequency of someone to save? Then she thought of Tom out there, willing to risk his life every day. . . .

And then sometimes she would think of Jackson. Stupid, silly stuff, like the way he’d tickle her when they argued about something to get her to laugh. And then, just like that, a sea of sadness would wash over her, and she’d have to go do something else, anything else, before she got sucked down too deep. Having to worry about Tom was hard enough; to sit and ponder Jacks every day was too much for her heart to handle.

Maddy lay back down on her bed, but it seemed hopeless that sleep would come. She turned over on her side and scanned her bookshelf for something to read.

• • •

She woke up curled on the couch. Early morning light streamed in through the window. It couldn’t have been later than 6:30. Mercifully, she’d fallen asleep reading in the living room after going downstairs. The flashlight she’d used to light her book had fallen to the floor, and the novel was open, facedown on her chest.

The old cream-colored phone was ringing. Groggy from sleep, Maddy had to reach and stumble to even find it where it was stuck under a stack of magazines on the lowest shelf of the side table by the couch. Because of cell phones, which had stopped working after the first assault, she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d heard the landline ring.

“Hello?”

“Maddy?” said the voice on the other end. “You’re there? You’re really there?”

“Tom,” she said in a rush of relief. “You’re all right.”

“I’m okay. I’m okay,” Tom said. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for so long, Maddy.”

Maddy let the relief bleed through her body. Tom was alive. He was right there.

“I . . . I can’t tell you how much I’ve been thinking about you,” Maddy said, her voice starting to break up with emotion. “Wanting just to hear your voice.”

There was a moment of silence on his end of the line.

“I miss you, Maddy. I miss you so much. It means everything to me to hear you say that. Just to know that you’re out there, safe . . .”

“Of course I am, Tom,” Maddy said, still tingling with relief. “I’m here for you.”

“Maddy . . . I don’t know what’s going to happen. There were casualties.”

Tears streamed down Maddy’s face as she held the phone to her ear. “Don’t say that, Tom. I know exactly what’s going to happen. You’re going to beat back the demons and be safe. . . .”

“And come back to you,” Tom said.

“Yes,” Maddy said. “And come back to me.”

But even as she said it, Maddy knew that they were each just pretending to be strong for the other, that the Dark Angels were even more powerful than they could have ever imagined. They were a force of evil hell-bent on dominating humanity, and enslaving those it didn’t kill.

Maddy heard an air raid siren blare in the background on Tom’s end.

“Tom? What’s going on?” she asked, gripped by fear. As the siren continued to sound, their connection became worse and worse. . . .

“It’s okay, I’m okay. It’s just a drill,” Tom shouted over the noise. The poor connection made his voice crackle. “But I do have to go now.”

“Okay. I’m just so happy to know you’re all right,” Maddy said, tears still dripping down her face as she tried to be strong. “And you’ll stay that way, too. You’re going to be back here safe. Really soon.”

Tom spoke, but she could barely hear him.

“Maddy, I lo—”

The line went dead.

“Tom? Tom?” Maddy’s voice sounded small and lonely, echoing into emptiness.

He was gone.

Maddy carefully placed the ancient phone back into its cradle. She felt detached from her body and found herself once again questioning her true feelings for Tom. How was it possible she didn’t know by now? And how could she ever sort them out?

And how could she ever believe that she could forget about Jackson so quickly?

Angel City under siege, Jackson, Tom, the whirlwind surrounding her illegal save and her consequential loss of celebrity . . . it was all just too much.

Maddy’s cheeks were still wet with tears when the landline rang again.

“Tom?” Maddy said, hopeful.

“Madison Montgomery Godright?” a stern voice asked on the other end.

Definitely not Tom. “Yes?” she said tentatively.

“Please hold for President Linden.”

T
he morning sun cut hard against the besieged metropolis. The early blazing rays illuminated a cityscape raging with fires and thick, black smoke filling the sky and reminding the citizens of the previous days’ terror.

Maddy looked out at the city through the tinted bombproof windows of the armored black sedan. The sun and its glare had been muted to a cold gray, and the air-conditioning was so intense that Maddy felt like she’d catch a cold as they drove. For a few blissful seconds, the demon war felt like a distant dream as she watched the palm trees pass outside. She was being escorted to a meeting with Ted Linden, president-elect of the United States and president of the Global Angel Commission, which, as of a few days earlier, was in charge of coordinating the international defense against the demons.

Four Marine Humvees armed to the teeth with turreted guns and grenade launchers flanked the sedan as it drove down the abandoned Angel Boulevard. They weren’t taking any chances.

Maddy idly looked up at the billboards still glittering with images of the beautiful Guardians, which now seemed like ancient relics from another age. She couldn’t help feeling a small pang as she saw Emily Brightchurch’s face splayed across one of the most prominent ads on the boulevard. There was Emily, nearly naked in just her underwear, pouting at the camera, covering her chest for decency with one free arm.

In gigantic, dripping, terrifying red letters, a vandal had spray-painted NO HOPE.

Maddy turned away.

The man on security detail sitting in the passenger seat reached into his inner suit pocket and pulled out a piece of black cloth. A blindfold.

He leaned forward and gestured with it. “For safety.”

Maddy nodded, took the blindfold, and lightly tied it around her head. Through a tiny gap she could still see a sliver of sunlight, which brought her some comfort. But then the man reached back and pulled the fabric even tighter until everything was blackness.

“Apologies, Ms. Montgomery.”

Soon she could feel the sedan pull in somewhere and park, and Maddy was led into what felt like a flat, open space. Gusts of wind whipped and rippled against her body.

“We’re taking a chopper,” the security guard said as he took her by the arm and guided her onto what she imagined was a Black Hawk helicopter.

Maddy could hear what sounded like two fighter jets tearing across the sky, so deafening that she knew they must be nearby.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, cocking her head to show concern.

“Don’t worry, miss. Those birds are just here to provide air cover,” a young soldier’s voice said. “We’re just fine.”

Maddy wasn’t sure the soldier sounded fully convinced himself, but she nodded from behind her blindfold anyway. She had seen all too clearly how easily the demons were able to cut through the military’s air defenses. With a chill, Maddy imagined what would happen if one of the Dark Ones decided to come for the helicopter. They wouldn’t have a chance.

“It’s risky flying in broad daylight,” the suited man said, alerting Maddy to the fact that she wasn’t the only one with danger on her mind. “But we haven’t seen any demon scouts in over twenty-four hours, so intelligence thinks we have a window.”

“Do you, uh, do you maybe, uh, know what they’re waiting for, miss?” Maddy recognized the nervous voice of the young soldier. “Like, as an Angel you can tell?”

Maddy shook her head sadly. “I wish I could.”

“They’re overconfident,” the suited man said, most likely trying to bolster everyone’s morale. “We’ll take advantage of this. You’ll see. They’re making a fatal error.”

Maddy once again nodded in agreement, but her effort was pretty halfhearted. She
wanted
to believe they could somehow figure out a way to match the demons. . . .

But if she was being honest, she couldn’t think of how they possibly could.

A terrific whine sounded outside, and Maddy heard the steady thrum of the helicopter rotors as they began spinning and spinning. Gusts of warm wind blew in through the open door of the helicopter, sending her brown hair streaming everywhere. The helicopter shook with force, and then suddenly she felt it lift off the ground.

They were in the air for an hour, and Maddy had to wear the blindfold the entire time. It only took a few minutes of temporary blindness to make all her other senses that much stronger. Her hearing captured all the tiny details of human movement inside the helicopter and the mechanical din of the engine; her sense of touch tingled with the feel of the smooth metal under the seat contrasting with the rougher, detailed texture of her jeans. During the flight, the security guard offered Maddy a candy bar, but she declined—she felt the sugar might be so intense on her taste buds that she’d go into shock.

“Suit yourself,” he said. “But you’re missing out—it’s got peanut butter.”

Finally they arrived at their destination. The helicopter landed with a soft bump, and Maddy was escorted off. Outside, the air was hot and her mouth felt instantly dry. Maddy could tell they were somewhere in the desert.

“This way, miss,” her escort said, leading her by the hand into a building. Inside it was instantly at least thirty degrees cooler, and Maddy had never been so grateful for air-conditioning in her life. As they walked she heard a hallway door open, then close after her once they’d crossed the threshold. The security guard seated her in a chair, then finally pulled off the blindfold. She opened her eyes and blinked twice, first to adjust to the light, then to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Sitting at his desk in front of her, in a nondescript room lit more by the glow of numerous computer screens than by the single window, was President Ted Linden.

“I’m sorry for all the theatrics,” Linden said, motioning to the blindfold, which now lay crumpled on the desk in front of Maddy. “But my security detail insisted. They still aren’t entirely sure where your loyalties lie.” He searched Maddy’s face with his eyes. “But now that I see you here, I have no doubts. I only needed to look you in the eyes.”

Ever since he’d dropped in unannounced to visit her at the diner, Maddy had a pretty good opinion of Linden, even if she didn’t always agree with his methods. She had even publicly stated her support for the Immortals Bill once the human-Angel war seemed certain, before the demon menace raised its head. She felt in her gut that Linden was someone she could trust. Otherwise she would not have agreed to meet with him.

Maddy regarded him now. He looked like he had already aged a couple of years since she had seen him last, just a month or so ago. A wartime presidency aged a person, or at least that’s what they said. But when that theory was coined, there had only been human-versus-human wars. A presidency during a demon war was something else entirely. Maddy stopped herself before she imagined what Linden would look like a year from now.

“I’m glad you came,” he said. “It’s nice to see you again, Madison.”

“Likewise, sir,” Maddy said, her eyes focusing sharply on him. This is what she had come for. It was her duty.

“What can I do to help?” she asked.

“I’ll be blunt, since time is short,” he said, standing up and looking out the interior window, onto what looked to Maddy like some kind of control room. “Our allies are shoring up defense of their own cities and countries, while also lending us all the forces they can spare. But even those outside forces can’t get through the intermittent demon patrols on the borders of Angel City. It’s not enough right now. You know that. I know that.” Linden paused. “We still haven’t determined why the demons are holding back right now. One theory is that they’re testing our defenses, evaluating the weaknesses so they can exploit them. Another theory, one that I don’t like to believe, is that this is some kind of psychological warfare meant to wear us humans down, until we’re so terrified that we just relent to them out of fear. Whatever the reason, once the demons do attack with their full forces—and believe me, they will—our allies in the rest of the world will know that the aid we’re getting isn’t enough.”

Maddy nodded silently. At least he wasn’t pulling any punches, unlike the newscasters and pundits, who kept trying to soften the inevitable.

“Maddy, when you and I first met in your uncle’s diner, I felt I could trust you,” he said. “The Angels and I have had our fair share of differences. I’m the first to say it. But I also know that not all of the Angels support the NAS and the Protection for Pay program. With the Immortals Bill, I wanted to create an atmosphere where the dissident Angels could feel safe stepping forward, out of the shadows. But I’ll admit, the push-back was stronger than I’d anticipated.”

“Sir, with all due respect,” Maddy said, “did you really expect the Immortals to be happy that you were going to throw them in jail just for using their supernatural powers?”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures, Maddy. If you’re honest with yourself, you’ll admit the Angels would have never reformed without outside pressure.”

“Maybe it was too much pressure,” Maddy said. “Sir,” she quickly added, remembering who she was talking to.

President Linden smiled. “Being a leader is about making hard decisions. And it was my decision that that much leverage was needed. My goal was never to put the Angels behind bars. My goal was to get them to fulfill their original duties on Earth. Which do
not
include Protection for Pay. Their purpose is higher than that. There was a time when they believed in something higher, and it’s something I know they can believe in again.”

“Some say humans have no right to mess with Angel affairs,” said Maddy.

“They gave up that privilege the day they came out of hiding, Maddy. The day they began the Great Awakening and started the whole ball rolling on Protection for Pay.”

He walked away from the window now and stood in front of her, his hands thrust into the pockets of his suit pants. Maddy hadn’t realized how tall Linden was, taller than she remembered, and lanky, too. He cut a striking figure, even in this moment of crisis. Maybe
especially
in this moment of crisis.

“Maddy, I need you to go to the Angels. Personally.”

Maddy couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. She had been ready to jump into battle, to do whatever needed to be done for her city and her country. But to go to the
Angels
? After everything they’d said, everything they’d done? After everything
Jacks
had said and done?

“They’ll never agree to help,” Maddy said. “Why should they?”

“World history is full of allies who were once enemies but who came together to fight a common enemy who was even worse. Just look at the Soviet Union and America, at Stalin and FDR during World War Two.”

“But that’s just it—the Immortals don’t view the demons as a common enemy right now. The Angels believe the demons are here to claim humanity only,” Maddy said. “And right now, I’m thinking they might be right. Only human stuff—I mean, sir, human targets—have been hit in the attacks so far.”

“The Angels are in hiding,” Linden said. “Why would they be hiding if the demons were only after us?”

“I don’t know, sir,” Maddy said. “But it doesn’t matter. Because even if the Angels were somehow convinced that the demons were a common enemy, the Council would never see me. Never. I’m nothing but a traitor to them. And even
if
,
on the slight chance they would see me, I don’t even know where to find them. Only those in the most inner circles are brought to the Council chambers.”

“I don’t want you to put yourself in danger,” Linden said.

“It’s not about danger, sir,” said Maddy. “I’d put myself in any kind of danger if it meant protecting Angel City and its people. But I simply can’t do what you’re asking. It’s impossible.” Maddy had hoped he’d have some other use for her, but now she saw that the trip had been in vain. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

Linden was quiet for a moment, studying Maddy.

“But there is one way, isn’t there? There is one who would see you. One who has strong sway among the Angels,” Linden said. “Our sources tell us he has become an Angel forces leader almost overnight.”

Jacks.

The name came across her mind in a flash. The very name she had been trying so hard to forget, even though it was constantly running through her consciousness like a mantra. What President Linden was asking of her . . . was impossible. After what she’d done to Jackson at the pier . . . The pain would be too much for him.

“You mean Jackson,” Maddy said.

Linden’s gaze deepened. “He’s our best chance, Maddy. The others are too entrenched in their Angel ways, too blinded by popular opinion. Their loyalty is unquestioned. But his relationship with you . . . that’s a completely different story.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. President. I can’t do what you’re asking. You don’t know what he’s like now. He’s the most loyal and obedient I’ve ever seen him. It’s like he’s a different Angel. I don’t even know if he’ll”—emotion swelled inside her, forcing her to linger on the sentence for a moment—“want to see me. There are just some things about the situation that you don’t know. And, like I said, we don’t even know where they’re hiding.”

The president’s jaw grew tense. “Our sources say the Angels are still close to Angel City. Maddy, we don’t have another option. Under normal circumstances, I’d tell you to go with your gut. But we need you to at least
try
this.” The circles underneath his eyes seemed to deepen as he paused. “Maddy. You do understand that this may be our last chance? The Dark Angels will not give us another opening like this.”

Maddy nodded slowly. She knew that what he was saying was true in theory. But to go to Jackson? To reopen that fresh wound that both of them shared? It was perhaps the last thing on the planet she wanted to do.

But as she looked at President Linden, she felt a deep respect. She wanted to do what he asked, to help in any way she could. Even if it meant enduring the pain of seeing Jacks, and having to witness the pain it would cause him. She let out a heavy breath as she prepared to give him her answer.

“All I can promise is that I’ll try.”