Angel Fever

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Angel Fever Page 69

by L. A. Weatherly

Page 69

 

  “They knew,” I said. We were at the top of Orchid, looking south. I stared at a fallen tree lying across the street. “That wasn’t there before, was it?”

  “No, we blocked off the main roads when we got back. Is there a reason we’re here, Willow?”

  Then we both heard it: an engine heading our way.

  Scott swore and pulled me around the side of a house; he peered out. “Okay, you were right,” he said. “Just like in high school. You know, everyone only called you Queen Weird because it was so spooky how accurate your readings were. ”

  I crouched down and stared out from under his arm. The street was still empty; the sound of the engine was growing closer. Over the sudden hammering of my pulse, I said, “Yeah, Nina used to tell me I was ruining my chances with the popular crowd. ”

  “None of that crap matters any more,” Scott said shortly. “We’re all glad you’re back, Willow. We’ve been hoping you’d come. ”

  A truck cruised into view: a blue 4 × 4 that looked like an Eden vehicle. As it reached the barricade, it stopped. Someone got out; the door slammed.

  “Only one,” Scott said, fingering his rifle. “What is he, can you tell? Human or angel?”

  I’d forgotten to scan, because all I could do was stare. The guy who’d gotten out had dark hair…and was wearing faded jeans and a leather jacket. My heart skipped so hard it was painful. Oh god, when would I stop seeing Alex everywhere?

  “Willow?” said Scott from a distance. “Is he okay?”

  The dark-haired guy had firm shoulders, slim hips. A rifle was slung over his back. As I watched, he shoved a hand through his hair in a motion so familiar it clutched at my soul.

  Suddenly I was shaking. I did a scan…and as the familiar energy hit me, the world stopped.

  “Alex?” I whispered.

  I KNEW THAT IT COULDN’T be him. It couldn’t be. But my heart didn’t care.

  “Alex!” I screamed, and it was as if I’d woken myself out of a trance. I lunged out from behind the house and started running as hard as I could, snow flying with every step as my feet pummelled the ground.

  The boy’s head snapped up. “Willow!” he shouted.

  In seconds he’d vaulted over the tree and was running towards me. This was a dream – it couldn’t be true.

  When we reached each other, I threw myself into his arms. He caught me up hard, swinging me around in a circle. Alex. With a sob I clung to his neck, breathing him in.

  “Oh god, I missed you – I missed you so much—” He gripped my head, scattering kisses across my face. As he clutched me close again, I pressed tight against him, tears starting down my cheeks. Warm flesh…his leather jacket…his T-shirt, smelling of dust and sweat. If I loosened my hold, I’d wake up to find he’d vanished, the same as after a hundred dreams.

  My shoulders were shaking. “Hey, hey…” whispered Alex against my hair. “Oh, babe, don’t cry – I’m back now. Everything’s okay. ”

  I couldn’t answer. I just held on, trembling. He was real.

  “Oh, man! Are you Alex Kylar?”

  I felt Alex keep one arm around me as he stretched out his hand to someone. “Yeah, who are you?”

  “Scott Mason. Wow, this is just a complete honour. I can’t believe you’re really here—”

  “Look, you’ve got problems,” broke in Alex. “I waited until the scouts were gone so they wouldn’t see me. Did you know you’ve got, like, three thousand angels waiting to attack just thirty miles away?”

  My blood was pounding through my brain. I pulled away slightly, staring up at the strong lines of Alex’s face. It was more tanned than I recalled, his eyes looking very blue. This couldn’t be happening. Could not.

  Scott had gone pale. “Scouts?”

  “Yeah, what did you think?”

  “I – I don’t know, but – we had some other angels this morning, kind of sneaking around town…”

  Alex grimaced. “Let me guess; you killed them all. So they sent some others and stayed high this time, and found out you’ve got an alarm system and a bunch of sharpshooters in town. Nice one. ”

  Scott licked his lips. “Okay, but…they probably already knew that. One of our fighters got captured a few weeks ago. ”

  “It’s usually not a great idea to confirm their info,” Alex said dryly. “But at least they might assume you don’t know about the attack and think they can catch you unaware. You did already know about it, right?”

  “Yeah, we’re busy planning right now – hey, you can help! A bunch of us are at the town hall…”

  The world was tilting – I was sliding off its edge. Why wasn’t Scott surprised that Alex was still alive? But he hadn’t known he was dead. Which was real? Did Alex die, or not? Maybe this whole last year had just been a bad dream.

  Alex glanced down at me then; his face creased in concern. “You go on,” he told Scott without looking at him. “We’ll catch up. ”

  Once Scott had left, Alex held me close. “I was so afraid of this,” he whispered. “Willow, you thought I’d died, didn’t you?”

  “I—” My voice was faint.

  Alex drew back to brush away my tears. Then he paused. My hair had tumbled down as I ran, and I saw him taking it in – felt his surprise.

  I grasped his hand before he could speak. He still wore the woven bracelet I’d given him, bright against his tanned wrist. “How are you alive?” I choked out. “How?”

  His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  Somehow I managed to put coherent sentences together. “That day – the day that you left – Sam and I went after you. When we reached the New Mexico camp, the entire centre exploded. There was nothing left. ”

  The blood drained from Alex’s face. “You were there for that?”

  “Alex, I felt it…I felt you die…”

  The memory was like my soul being shredded. Alex wrapped his arms around me again. “Oh god, Willow, I am so sorry,” he said, his voice fervent. “I’ve been in the angels’ world. That’s why you couldn’t sense me. ”

  “The angels’ world?” I repeated in a daze. “But – why didn’t you tell me that’s what you were doing?”

  “Because—” His throat moved as he swallowed. “Because I was pretty sure that just the attempt to get there would kill me,” he said roughly. “I don’t think I could have forced myself to go otherwise. ”

  I stared at him, trying to get the words to make sense. He clasped my hands between his, his skin warm, familiar. “Willow, I’m sorry. I know what these last few weeks must have been like for you. God, if it was you, I’d—”

  “Weeks?” I interrupted. Suddenly my heart was battering at my chest. “Wait, wait – is that what you said?”

  “Yeah. Over three weeks…” Alex trailed off, taking in my long blonde hair again. When he’d left, my hair was still brown, just past my shoulders.

  His face paled.

  We stared at each other. Three weeks. The year of grief, bleak and sharp as winter, rose up in a grey crest and threatened to drown me. “Alex, no,” I got out finally. “It…it was longer. ”

 

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