Angel Fever

by L. A. Weatherly

Page 82

 

  I guess these aren’t the essential people, I thought bitterly. Kara had said the angels fed only lightly from those who kept the Edens going, like plumbers and doctors. The others were just cattle on a farm.

  There were no angels hunting overhead. Their energy was distant and incredibly condensed, and when I scanned, my blood chilled: a few miles away, the angels had all gathered in one place.

  “Do you feel that?” I whispered urgently.

  Alex’s expression had been grim ever since he’d had to put his arms around me. Now I felt his jolt of alarm. “Oh, shit – they’re preparing to attack. ” We broke into a run, our footsteps pounding in unison.

  The church sat alone on its vast lawn just as I remembered; its high, vaulted roof gleamed in the moonlight. The stairs leading up to it lay still and silent. A hasty scan – and to my relief, there was still one angel up on the second floor. Raziel, I thought, exploring the energy briefly.

  Though I was desperate to hurry, we slowed to a brisk walk again, skirting the edge of the parking lot. Despite myself, memories were crashing in: this was where Alex and I had first met. Where I’d first turned around and seen him heading towards me – noticed how he moved like an athlete, so confident in his own body.

  Where I’d first seen his eyes and could hardly look away.

  Alex was a shadow beside me as we crept around the side of the church, winter-dry grass rustling under our feet. We found a side door and glanced at each other.

  “The whole place will be wired,” Alex whispered. “Check for alarms. ”

  I nodded stiffly. My angel shivered out and glided through the metal door. I was in a corridor, made ghostly by my own ethereal light. Trying not to think about the fact that Raziel was just a floor above and could sense me if he tried, I cruised hastily through the building, searching.

  When I found the security office, a man was slumped, dozing, in front of the control panel. I rested my ethereal hand on his and concentrated. That strange, underwater sensation came again, like when I’d read Kara. After a few seconds, I quickly jabbed in a sequence of numbers, praying I’d gotten it right.

  A small green light began to flash. Up in the corner of the ceiling, the light on the security camera died.

  Thank god. I flew back in a frenzy; a moment later Alex and I were inside, rushing down the hallway. As we pushed open the door at the end, we entered the airy vastness of the church: snowy marble that gleamed in the moonlight; ornate stained glass; the pulpit shaped like a pair ofangel wings.

  No. I was not going to think about how Alex had saved my life by getting me out of this place.

  A doorway at the side led to a flight of stairs. The lights were on here; when we reached the top, Alex swung his rifle off his shoulder and held it ready under one arm. He quietly pushed open the stairwell door.

  I had my pistol out as we made our way down a long, plush corridor with low lighting. I scanned feverishly. My spine stiffened. There – Raziel was behind that door at the end.

  I kept my eyes on it as we advanced, my pulse beating hard. This had to work. If I couldn’t find out where the gate was; if we couldn’t get back to Pawntucket before the attack… I took a breath. No. Failure was not an option.

  Then as we neared the door, I stopped short, senses prickling: our presence had been discovered. My hand flew to Alex’s arm, halting him. He glanced at me – and then the hallway exploded into radiance as a glorious winged creature burst through the wall at us, snarling with fury.

  It wasn’t Raziel.

  Jaw tight, Alex snapped the rifle to his shoulder and fired; the silenced shot thudded through my brain. I stood staring dumbly at the drifting leaves of light. And of course now I could sense that this angel’s energy had felt similar to my father’s, but that was all. How could I have been so stupid, how?

  Trying not to panic, I glanced in the direction of the gathered angels. “He must be with them. Alex, we’ve got to get over there, fast!”

  He grabbed my arm. “No, wait – you said Raziel always stays in the church. So we can get to his things. ”

  “Why? It’s him I need!”

  Our voices were low, fierce. “Because we’re here now, and you get details from objects sometimes, and it’s worth a try! If you do get something, then we might actually have a shot at surviving long enough to use it!”

  I felt desperate with indecision, the seconds ticking past. If we made the wrong choice…

  “Okay,” I said hurriedly.

  We opened the door the angel had come through. A richly decorated office with a living area. Definitely Raziel’s quarters; the angel must have been a guard. My brow furrowed with sudden intuition as I looked at the sofa. I quickly went over and touched one of the cushions.

  Faint residual energy clung to the fabric. My face slackened. No way. Aunt Jo, here?

  “Willow, come see this, quick!” Alex called.

  Confused, I rushed into the inner office. Alex nodded tersely at the desk. “Look. ”

  I stared at a piece of paper so familiar that it stole my breath. There is no greater universe than holding you…

  I snatched it up and folded it again, hating that Raziel had seen this, that he’d touched it. As I tucked the poem in my jeans pocket, I couldn’t meet Alex’s steady gaze. “I – I guess they got it from my room after the attack. ”

  “That’s not all they got,” he said quietly.

  And that’s when I saw the photo.

  As I gazed at myself as a little girl, a deep foreboding turned my skin clammy. I started to shake. Because somehow…I knew exactly what I was going to get even before I picked the photo up.

  The small brass frame felt cool in my hand as I held it. Raziel’s energy swept me, sickening in its strength. He’d touched this for several minutes – he’d been thinking so intently – I swallowed as thoughts, images, knowledge whirled past.

  Aunt Jo had been here; she had angel burn. She and Mom had been hidden up in the Adirondacks all this time, not even a hundred miles away. She’d told Raziel everything.

  His voice as he gave an order on his cell: It’s to begin at six a. m. exactly. I want that town decimated. Then he’d turned off his phone and smiled, looking down at my photo.

  Not taking his eyes from it, he’d lifted his voice and called out: Suppose you come along and show me where this place is, Joanna? I rather fancy paying Miranda a visit.

  No! But that was all, no matter how hard I clutched the frame – no matter how much I willed more information to come.

  “Willow?” Alex’s voice was distant.

  I opened my eyes. My fingers were stiff, the frame’s corners gouging into my palm. “Oh my god,” I whispered. “Raziel knows where Mom is; he’s on his way there now – and the attack’s due to start at six! What time is it?”

  “Five-thirteen,” said Alex, glancing at a clock. He took hold of my shoulders. “What do you mean, he knows where your mother is?” he said urgently. “How?”

  I quickly told him what I’d seen. “I can’t let him hurt her—” But I had no idea where Mom was. The Adirondacks were huge. Frantically, I tried to scan Aunt Jo’s thoughts, but we’d never been close; all I got was her awe at Raziel’s presence.

  Trembling, I looked down at the photo again. At the willow tree.