by Helen Keeble
“What the hell are those pellets made out of, lead?” I snarled under my breath, clutching at my shoulder. “That bloody hurt!”
“Well, of course it did,” Debbie hissed back at me. “How else would you know if you’d been hit? Shut up, you’ll give away our position!”
“Doesn’t matter. Kate just head-shot one, Faith took out the other, and the last one’s run off,” I said absently, still trying to shake the numbness out of my hand. “And Faith’s on her way back.”
Sure enough, a second later, Faith slithered into our hiding space under a fallen tree. “Did they get Raffi?” she said anxiously.
“Just winged him.” Debbie nodded at the bright orange dye splattered down my bruised arm. “He’s still in the game. Thank God.” She gave me a new sort of appreciative look, one that said I had more qualities than merely being decorative. “You were right, he is a natural. I swear the dude has eyes in the back of his head or something.”
“Something like that,” Faith murmured. “Debbie, Kate needs backup on point. We’ll take rear guard. Is it clear, Raffi?”
“Yep.” My angelsight did give me a huge advantage in this situation, although it still wasn’t much use when, as had just happened, three snipers decided to converge on your location. I scanned the patch of woods ahead. “Circle around. There’s a girl hiding in the ruins just beyond Kate. She’s alone.”
Not questioning my knowledge, Debbie wriggled out from the ditch, grinning like a wolf. “I’m gonna slaughter her. Give me five, then follow.” She loped off, calling back over her shoulder, “We’re totally taking the trophy this term!”
“This is so great!” Faith was practically glowing with happiness through her generous coating of mud. “Thanks to you, we’re easily going to win.”
“Can’t be soon enough. How much longer have we got?” I glanced at my watch. “We’ve only been out here an hour?” I groaned, thumping my forehead down onto the earth in despair.
Faith looked at me in surprise. “Aren’t you having fun?”
“I’m cold and dirty and bloody terrified! No, I am not having fun!” With a heroic effort, I managed to get my emotions back under control before I accidentally channeled heavenly fire down the metal barrel of my paintball gun. “Sorry,” I muttered. “I know it’s just a game. But it’s too realistic. And Michaela is still out here somewhere—we’ve got to move,” I interrupted myself, angelsight showing me a whole crowd engaged in a running battle that was headed this way at speed. I slid out from under the trunk, then turned to offer Faith a hand. “Anyway, seeing even pretend guns being aimed at you gives me heart failure.”
Faith’s expression softened. “That’s really sweet,” she said, taking my hand. I’d been frozen to the bone, but the mere touch of her skin on mine warmed me to the core. “You’re really sweet, Raffi.” She caught her foot on a root as she scrambled up; I grabbed her other arm to steady her, and we ended up nearly toe to toe. For a long moment, we looked into each other’s eyes.
Faith let out a forced laugh. “Oh, I’m so clumsy,” she gabbled, a pink flush rising in her cheeks as she stumbled back. “I’m sure I must be holding you back. Maybe it would be better if we split up. I’ll—I’ll just head this way, okay?” She practically sprinted away from me.
Straight into the line of Michaela’s gun.
The world congealed around me in one moment of pure horror that stretched into eternity. A split second ago, I’d only had eyes for Faith; now, too late, every tiny detail of our surroundings hit me like an arrow. Faith, far out of my reach across the clearing, facing the wrong way to see the threat. Michaela, out of breath, tears streaking her cheeks. Her rifle, pointed at Faith’s heart, rock steady. The bullet inside, real.
Michaela’s finger tightened on the trigger.
I threw myself forward—not with my legs, but my wings. One powerful beat lifted me out of the world entirely. For the barest instant, I arced through Hell, my human eyes blurring with impossible colors—and then I crashed back down into the mortal world, landing between Faith and Michaela. The bang of displaced air caused by my reappearance sounded simultaneously with the crack of the gun. I had only time for one last thought—Oh man, angels better be bulletproof—
Chapter 24
As it turned out, we weren’t.
It hurt. A lot. Somewhere very far away, there was a great deal of running and shouting going on, but I was more interested in blinking at the sky at the moment. Something was wrong with my eyes; my normal vision was going dark around the edges, while angelsight seemed to be getting brighter and brighter.
“If you die, Mr. Angelos, I shall be greatly inconvenienced.” Where had the Headmistress come from? Her hand felt like a cement block on my chest, stopping me from flying away. Even though her fingers were flat against my skin, I had the weirdest feeling that they were somehow under my ribs, holding me together. “Kindly refrain from doing so.”
There was a point of light, high above her head, like a star hung too low. The Headmistress looked up as if she could see it too. For the briefest instant, her impassive expression cracked, revealing—regret? Welcome? Or maybe just recognition . . .
“Yes,” the Headmistress said. Not to me. “Come.”
Wings, a storm of wings, hurtling down out of the swirling sky. They spread wide, revealing a burning core of fire studded with eyes like a million suns. The Headmistress drew back her hand, making way for the wings, and pain washed over me. I was going to drown in it—
The brilliant feathers settled over me soft as snowfall, and I lost myself in blissful, blank whiteness.
Chapter 25
Raf, you look awful,” were Krystal’s first words to me on my return, two weeks later. Her note had asked me to meet her outside the old shrine at midnight, but now that I was actually here she looked like she wanted to pick me up and carry me back to bed. “Are you sure you’re fit to be back at school?”
“Oh, don’t you start too.” Having arrived late in the evening, the only people I’d seen so far had been teachers, and all of them had told me I should leave immediately. I was sure the fussing was meant well, but I was starting to feel positively unwelcome. “Believe me, I would have liked to stay in my nice, comfy, completely Hellgate-less hospital room.” I scowled. “Damn Dantes. If it wasn’t for them, I’d still be enjoying my holiday.”
The first thing I’d seen when I’d woken up in the hospital was a very large ornamental cactus squatting on my bedside table. The card prominently displayed on the side had read: With sympathies on your unfortunate accident. The Headmistress. “Accident” had been underlined. The cactus had been extremely spiky. I’d gotten the message.
Problem was, since the official story was that Michaela’s paintball gun had suffered a catastrophic and mysterious malfunction—and that there was thus no need for a lengthy and expensive investigation into the school’s health and safety policies—the Dantes were fighting tooth and nail to prevent any blame from being assigned to her. They were also insisting they wouldn’t pay a penny of the promised bursary money if Michaela was expelled. And apparently, the Headmistress found that of greater concern than the fact that I’d been shot in the chest. Thanks, Headmistress.
Which reminded me . . . “Thanks for the updates, by the way.” Krystal had sent me a letter every day, along with a bundle of homework assignments. I’d pored over the former and ignored the latter. “Especially the bits about Lydie and my other girls.” Without even a half-assed angel around to watch out for them, they’d been getting bullied worse than ever. “That certainly motivated me to get better fast.”
Krystal bit her lip. “I didn’t mean to make you stagger up from your sickbed and race back here. I mean, you’re hardly fit to fight demons. You really do look like death.”
“I have to admit, I could have done without late-night hikes.” I adjusted the bulky bandages wrapping my torso under my shirt. Getting shot point-blank in the chest was no joke. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad to see you but couldn’
t this have waited until the morning?”
“I think it could have,” Krystal said sourly. “But I’m not Faith. Come on. She wants to talk to you. Urgently.”
My stomach lurched sideways. “Is she okay?” Krystal had already set off into the dark woods, her flashlight beam bobbing. I put a hand on the sword thrust through my belt to stop it from tripping me as I hurried after her. “Did things go downhill for her again while I was gone?”
“No, it’s okay, she’s fine. Still queen bee and all.” Krystal shot me an odd look over her shoulder. “Didn’t she keep in touch with you?”
“Not really. Sent me a nice card, though.” I was quiet for a long moment. “You know what the weird thing is?”
“Apart from the fact that apparently you’re not offended that she thinks your taking a bullet for her is only worth a single stamp?” Krystal muttered. She stomped through the dry leaves with rather more force than necessary.
“Actually, that’s it exactly.” I shook my head. “I didn’t mind that she didn’t write. I didn’t . . . I didn’t want her to write. I didn’t miss her. I missed you.” I nearly ran into her as she stopped dead. “Uh, and Lydie and everyone too, of course,” I added quickly, grinning to cover the sudden awkward moment. “Hell, I even started to miss Ms. Wormwood.”
Krystal snorted but started walking again. “Okay, now I know you must have been on some serious drugs.”
“Felt more like I was coming off a drug. Like I’d been addicted to Faith and had kicked the habit. That can’t be right, can it? Aren’t you supposed to want to be with your true love?”
“When your true love is Faith, I can kind of see why absence might make the heart grow fonder,” Krystal said. She punched me on the arm and looked mortified when I winced. “Sorry, I forgot. Seriously, Raf, don’t worry about what love is ‘supposed’ to be like. Who says it has to be one particular way or it doesn’t count? Only you can know what’s right for you.”
“That’s the thing,” I said very quietly. “Even though I have to be in love with Faith in order to seal the Hellgate . . . I don’t know if I really am. While I was away from her, all the feelings I thought I had just faded, like a dream.” I sighed. “Maybe Faith has the right idea after all. Maybe she should stick with Billy-Bob. Maybe I’m not the one for her.”
“Maybe,” Krystal echoed softly. She cleared her throat, reverting to her much more usual brusque voice. “In which case, I’ll tell you what Faith has also got.” She stepped aside, revealing a small clearing in the woods. “Absolutely terrible timing.”
Dozens of small candles made a firefly circle in the short-cropped grass. Faith knelt in the center, head bowed as if in prayer. White petals were scattered around her. She rose at our arrival, her long, white dress flowing like water over her slim body. Her hair was braided away from her face, revealing her solemn expression.
The sight of her felt like a fishhook through my heart. Or a hole in my head. I could practically feel my brain dribbling out, along with all my doubts. “Hi,” I blurted out.
“Hello,” Faith said softly without smiling. She glanced at Krystal. “Thank you for bringing him.”
Krystal glared at the petal-strewn lawn. “Your mother is going to be royally pissed about those flowers.”
“I said thank you, Krystal.” When Krystal continued to fidget without actually retreating, Faith added with a hint of steel, “It’s late and you must be tired. You should go to bed.”
“I’m not the one with a chest wound,” Krystal muttered. “Raf . . .” She looked at me, and her mouth twisted. She turned abruptly, heading into the woods without looking back. “Don’t be stupid.” I wasn’t quite certain whether she was talking to herself or me.
That left me, Faith, and the awkward silence.
Faith took one of the flowers from her braided hair, holding it out to me. “I wanted to thank you for saving my life.”
“Uh.” I stumbled on my way into the circle of candles, nearly setting fire to my own trousers, and took the flower from her. What was I supposed to do with it? Stick it in my own hair? I settled for wedging it through my belt, next to the sword. “Thanks. For the thanks.”
Faith looked down at her bare feet. “Are you mad at me?”
“What? No!” My whole body yearned toward her as if I was a plant reaching for the sun. “Why would I be?”
“For the way I’ve treated you.” Faith took a deep breath, straightening her spine like someone about to charge into battle. Her blue eyes met mine steadily. “For the way I’ve kept pushing you away, refusing to accept what you’ve always known.”
“Right.” My mind struggled to work in the face of her beauty. “Er. What would that be, again?”
“That it’s you.” I stood frozen as she moved closer, until I could feel the heat of her body all along my own, only inches away. “You’re the one, Raffi. You would have died for me. If that’s not true love, what is?”
It was the hardest thing I’d ever done, but I put my hand on her shoulder, stopping her. “Faith.” I gently pushed her back a little. “That’s what I feel for you. It’s okay if you don’t return it.”
“But I do.” Faith put her own hand over mine. “I’ve always felt drawn to you, Raffi. I buried it because I thought it was just attraction. I hated myself for being shallow, telling myself that I had to be loyal to Billy-Bob. But everything that’s happened, everything you’ve done for me . . . it’s fate. It has to be fate. I don’t have to wait for the Ball to meet my soul mate. He’s here now.” Her free hand found the back of my neck. “Close the Hellgate with me.”
Weirdest euphemism ever. My stomach roiled with instant performance anxiety. All I could think about as she pulled me down to her exultant upturned face was whether she was about to get the disappointment of her life, and if she’d hate me if she did, and . . . and . . .
And then our lips met, and everything went white.
Literally.
With a strangled yell, I flung myself backward, breaking the kiss. The fire surrounding Faith didn’t die down. It outlined her head in curling, eye-searing flames. Panicking, I reached for her, but had to jerk my own hand back from the heat. “Faith!”
Faith’s eyes opened slowly. Her expression was as serene and remote as the moon. Her hair lashed about her head, whipped by an invisible wind. “Rafael,” she whispered.
With a noise like tearing silk, her wings unfolded.
Chapter 26
I stared at Faith, newly revealed in all her heavenly glory, and could only think of one thing to say. “Oh . . . shit.”
It was an STD. I’d given Faith a bad case of angel.
Faith blinked, her eyes dimming back to their usual clear blue. The flames wreathing her sank back into her skin, although her halo still outlined her head. “Wow,” she said, sounding a bit dazed. “I didn’t think it would feel like that.” Anxiety crossed her face as she stared around at the unchanged night. “Did it work? Is anything different?”
Mutely, I pointed at the wings springing from her back, flexing a little with every breath she took.
Puzzled, Faith looked over her own shoulder—and froze. “Oh,” she said again, just the tiniest squeak of air. “Oh my.”
“I’m really sorry!” I gabbled as Faith extended one wing to stare at the glowing pinions. “I didn’t know it was contagious! I’m so, so sorry!”
“I’m an angel?” Faith said wonderingly. She turned in a circle, as if she could somehow inspect her own back. “This explains everything! My father must have been an angel in disguise, just like your mother. That’s why we’re so drawn to each other—we’re alike! Krystal was right, it’s our combined powers that can close the Hellgate!” She flung herself into my arms. “Oh, Raffi! It’s all part of a divine plan!”
“You’re okay with this? You don’t mind?” I said anxiously. The fact that she was squeezing me hard enough to crack a rib seemed like a good—if painful—sign, but I wasn’t sure she’d fully appreciated the potential drawbacks
yet. “I mean, you might get the eyes. I’m really sorry if you get the eyes.”
“I want the eyes,” Faith said, muffled by the way she had her face buried in my chest. Her wings arched above our heads. “I want everything! I want to smite evil! I want to fly! I want—”
There was no warning. One moment she was in my arms, the next I was thrown backward by an icy tentacle. I hit a tree trunk hard, the impact jarring my half-healed wound. Pain made the whole world tip sideways and go black.
“Stay away!” Faith was shouting. I blinked up at her wings, spread protectively over me. She’d grabbed the sword from my belt, holding it ready in a practiced, expert grip. “I’m warning you. I know what I am now! You can’t touch us, Michaela!”
“Michaela?” A low, cold chuckle twisted around us like a snake. “Whatever gave you that idea, my pet?”
The figure stepped into the circle of light cast by our combined halos . . . but darkness still clung to her, as if she bent and broke our angelic radiance. Through that shadowy aura, her hair gleamed as red as freshly spilled blood.
“Ms. Wormwood?” Faith said uncertainly. The point of her sword wavered.
“Hello, pets,” said the teacher. The endearment no longer sounded affectionate, but a literal description of what we were to her. There was something wrong about the way she moved, as if she was a badly controlled puppet. She didn’t quite make contact with the ground as she stalked jerkily toward us. She seemed to have to fight against the brightness of our combined light as if against a strong gale. “I see you’ve managed to make a mess of everything as usual, Raffi. We should have ripped your heart out the day you arrived.”
Black tentacles unfolded from thin air around her.
Faith gasped, whipping the sword around to slice at the reaching limbs. They didn’t dodge—middle sections just disappeared, the blade whistling through thin air. She danced back, nearly tripping over me. “Raffi, I don’t know how to make it flame!”
“Give it here!” The pain had receded enough to let me struggle upright again. I snatched the sword from Faith—but even as my fingers closed around it, Ms. Wormwood hissed, a tentacle lashing out to wrap around the tip of the blade. The suddenly frost-covered metal ripped a layer of skin off my palm as she yanked it out of my hand.