Angel Fire

by L. A. Weatherly

Page 41

 

  I hated pressing the point when he was in so much pain, but I had to say it: “Even if we could find out more information about the Council? So that we know for sure what to expect?”

  “How likely is that, though? I’ve never known you to get anything specific just from being inside a place. The most I’ve ever seen you get is feelings. ”

  “I know, but there could still be a chance, even if it’s a tiny one. Alex, if it wasn’t me – if it was someone else on the team who was half-angel—”

  “I’d be saying the same thing,” he broke in. “Seriously, this isn’t about me being in love with you. It’s just too risky, for not enough return. That place is full of angels – if they saw that you were here in the city, it could jeopardize everything. ”

  I sighed – when he put it like that, I could see his point. After a pause, I bent over and kissed his mouth upside down; he tilted his chin up to make it linger. Our lips left each other slowly. “Okay,” I said. “You’re the boss. ”

  “Yeah, I must have been really bad in a past life or something. ” He smiled, his eyes still in pain. Reaching up, he touched a strand of my hair. “Don’t leave, okay?”

  “Shh. I’m not going anywhere. ” I kept stroking his forehead, trailing my fingers across it. His muscular shoulders gradually relaxed, his eyes closing again. His breathing slowed, became more regular.

  I could hear the TV on in the other room, the sound of voices. None of it mattered to me. I stayed there until long after Alex had fallen asleep – gently caressing the brow of the boy I loved, trying to keep his pain at bay.

  The other AKs kept improving with their moving targets, until Alex started doing combat variations with them – making them run across the room, drop into a roll and then shoot, that kind of thing. Their averages plummeted again, but I saw that this time it didn’t take long for their scores to start climbing back up. They were getting there. Sam was the best shot by far; he’d obviously taken Alex’s demonstration with his pistol that day as a personal challenge. At first, Wesley had been as awkward with guns as he was around people, but now he wasn’t far behind Sam, and Trish was pretty much on a level with him – she seemed to aim and shoot in a single motion, hardly even thinking. I don’t know why that surprised me, except Trish was so nice that you didn’t tend to think of her and guns in the same sentence. Brendan and Liz weren’t doing badly, either – they were both consistent enough to be dependable, at least.

  Unlike me. Though I’d gotten pretty good at shooting a stationary target, I still hadn’t reached a ninety per cent success rate; I couldn’t get over the habit of flinching each time I pulled the trigger. I really didn’t think I was ever going to get used to this – the cold weight of the weapon, the acrid smell of gunpowder.

  Standing in the target range with the muted thumps of gunfire around me, I braced myself for the kick of the pistol as I aimed – and then that strange prickling feeling nagged at the nape of my neck again. I knew no one would be there, but I still had to glance and check. Only the wall of the range looked back. I let out a breath, wishing I could get over feeling so self-conscious in this place.

  As target practice continued, part of me wondered why I was even bothering to learn how to shoot now, apart from my personal safety. When Alex and I had talked some more about the Council attack, he’d convinced me that it wasn’t a good idea for me to go – that the threat of my aura attracting attention and putting the team in even greater danger in that situation was too great. I hated it, hated it. This was my fight too. I couldn’t bear the thought of staying behind while Alex and the others risked their lives; of not being there to do whatever I could to help them. But I knew he was right. No one had any idea what Paschar’s vision meant, including me. . . and meanwhile, my aura was like a big neon arrow pointing right at me. This was the only chance we were going to get. My personal feelings about not being included didn’t even come into it.

  I sighed and squeezed the trigger, felt the report jump through me. A hole appeared just at the edge of the bullseye. “Hey, that’s a lot better,” said Alex, pausing to watch. He glanced at me; his mouth creased in sympathetic amusement. “You still totally hate this, don’t you?”

  “Me? No, I was born to be a gun moll. ” I set my jaw as I started to aim again.

  He reached over and corrected my hold on the gun slightly, his fingers warm on mine. For a second he was almost his old self again. “You make a really cute one, you know that?” he said in an undertone. “All you need is one of those thirties gangster suits. ”

  “Ho, ho. ”

  I saw the kiss he wanted to give me in his eyes. Then he was gone again, heading towards Brendan. I held back a smile as I looked after him, wishing as usual we’d had longer to talk. Returning to my target, I squared my shoulders – and somewhere inside of me, my angel gave a flutter, darkly restless. In an awful way I’d gotten used to this by now; only half thinking about it, I pushed her aside in my mind.

  Only this time it didn’t work.

  My angel broke free with a shining rush, soaring out of me. With a startled gasp, I stood gaping up at her as she hovered. I couldn’t feel what she was feeling any more. Oh my god, what was happening; who was this creature with my face? Belatedly, I tore my gaze away, my heart thudding. I couldn’t let anyone see me staring upwards – couldn’t let anyone figure out what was going on.

  Before my angel could do anything, I quickly switched my consciousness to hers. All at once, I was the one hovering overhead, looking down at the foreshortened Willow below, still aiming the gun as if nothing was happening. My angel knew what I was about to do; there was a sudden mental frenzy as she fought against me. Gritting my teeth, I ignored her and swooped back into my human body. A flapping struggle; almost a scream of frustration as my angel tried to wrest free – but for now at least I was stronger, and I shoved her away inside of me.

  The whole thing had taken only seconds. I took a few breaths, making sure I really had control. I could sense her frustration now, and that weird looseness again. . . but my angel had gone silent. Shakily, I flicked the safety on the gun and rested it on the floor. Alex glanced over, and I tried to smile.

  “Bathroom,” I mouthed, and he nodded.

  Upstairs, I splashed water on my face. My eyes in the mirror looked large and frightened; my face pale. Okay. This was not good. This was really, really not good. I had to tell Alex, only what could he do? He wouldn’t know what was going on any more than I did. But I couldn’t keep this from him any longer, no matter how much I didn’t want to face it myself; it had gotten way too serious. The possibility that I really could be responsible for his migraine – and that it might be a symptom of something far worse – came to me again, chilling my blood. Suddenly it seemed only too likely. I wanted so much to believe it wasn’t true; that my touch wasn’t hurting him – but how could I know, when I had this thing inside me that I didn’t even understand any more?

  I caught sight of my crystal pendant in the mirror, and went very still. I heard Alex’s voice saying, Your angel is you; she’s a part of you. And that means she’s. . . everything I love. ”