by Lou Morgan
Adriel opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly seemed to remember that Alice was in the room and closed it again. Instead, he looked her up and down and simply asked, “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. I think.”
“I should have been more specific, perhaps: are you hurt?”
“No. No, I’m not hurt.” Her hand went to her throat. “Much. But...” Where should she start?
With Toby.
Adriel listened, his face a careful blank, as she told him what had happened. How she had been ambushed. How Castor had come to her rescue. How Toby had seen everything. Finally, he sighed and rubbed his hand across his forehead. “It could not be helped, Alice.”
“I’m sorry. I am.”
“One man is not the issue now, I fear. A street full of people, on the other hand, that is an issue, and one I imagine the Archangels will be most eager to discuss, Zadkiel or no Zadkiel. He does not take kindly to having his hand forced.”
“Ah. Yes. Them.” Alice had hoped that her meeting with Zadkiel might have covered that. With every word that came out of Adriel’s mouth, it was sounding less and less likely.
“Indeed. And I presume that now the Archangels know where to find you.”
“Yes.”
“They’ve always known,” Mallory snorted. “Michael’s not stupid, and even if he was, all he’s got to do is look inside her head to find out where she was. He’s just too fixated on Lucifer to give a shit about anything else right now. I don’t blame him, either: it’s the Fallen I’m bothered about for the time being. At least we can count on the Archangels being on our side some of the time.”
“Maybe. But what happened today...”
“What happened happened. We got sloppy. The Fallen punished us for it. It won’t happen again.”
“You sound very sure.” Adriel stared at Mallory with his black eyes.
“I am sure. It won’t happen again.”
Vin interrupted them. “Well. This has all been lovely. And educational. I feel like I’ve grown as a person. But I’m starving, and I get cranky when I’m hungry. You don’t want that. So can we, you know... go?”
“You’re like a child, aren’t you?” Mallory sounded more amused than he looked, and Vin shrugged.
“If that’s meant as a compliment, yes. Yes, I am.”
“You are. And it wasn’t.” He shook his head. “Adriel. A pleasure.”
“Likewise, Mallory. Likewise.” Adriel turned to Alice. “You will always be welcome here, Alice. You have a place here, a role to play. Know that.”
“You say it like I’m not going to see you again for a while.”
“Most people would find that a relief.”
“I’m not most people.” And before she could quite stop herself, Alice found that she was hugging him. Actually hugging Adriel, the Angel of Death. She mostly ignored Vin’s raised eyebrow, only paying attention enough to pull a face at him over Adriel’s shoulder. He pulled a face back, and Mallory muttered, “like a child,” under his breath.
As Alice stepped back from Adriel, he straightened his tie. “I’m unaccustomed to this sort of behaviour.”
“You mean no-one’s hugged you in a while?”
“Or, indeed, ever. No.”
“Well, now they have.”
“They have. Look after yourself, Alice.”
“Hungry, people. Hungry!” Vin was now pacing up and down. Alice grinned, and Mallory shook his head. “Five minutes. Five minutes, and already he’s trying to kill me.”
“Maybe if we feed him...”
“He’ll shut up? Remind me: has that ever worked before?”
“There’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?”
But even though she was back with both Mallory and Vin; even though Adriel seemed to have given her his blessing to go (or sacked her, possibly) Alice couldn’t quite shake the uneasy feeling she’d been carrying with her for days; the sensation that something wasn’t quite right. As she reached the front door, she turned back to see Adriel outlined in the entrance of his office, his shadow ahead of him on the floor. He nodded, once, and was gone. One thing she did know, however, was that he and Mallory had said something to one another in that room – right in front of her. They had told each other something, something important, and she had absolutely no idea what it was.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Just Because You’re Done With the Past Doesn’t Mean it’s Done With You
“GET OFF MY bloody roof.” Mallory had stopped midway along the path from the gate to the sacristy door.
Beside him, Alice cleared her throat. “Your roof?”
Mallory snorted. “My roof, your roof. I lived here first. When you’ve spent three sodding days up there with a hammer in a howling gale putting the slates back on, you can call it yours with my blessing.” He turned his attention back to the roof. “Are you coming down, or am I going to have to come up there and fetch you?”
The angel on the roof stood up and stretched its clipped wings.
As they watched, the Earthbound shook out his feathers and jumped, gliding in a circle overhead before landing in front of them.
It was Castor, and Alice suddenly realised why Pollux looked so familiar; the similarity between them was obvious now, even down to the way they moved. They were brothers.
Castor walked towards them, his face breaking into a smile as he saw Alice.
“Well, well. Look at that. You made it out in one piece.”
“I did. Thanks, by the way.”
“Just doing my job. Both of them.” He winked. “I meant it, though: you should try staying out of trouble once in a while. You might like it.”
“I doubt it,” Alice muttered, and caught the frown Mallory shot at her. “How about you?” she asked, hurriedly.
“Not so bad. Bit bruised after that little skirmish. One of the bastards blindsided me with a brick.”
“Who was it?”
“Not Fallen. Human.”
“Really?”
“Privilege of wearing the uniform, isn’t it?” Castor gestured to the beautiful bruise beneath his left eye. “Mind you, I had it easy compared to some...” He tailed off, looking pointedly at her.
Mallory caught the look. “Oh? We obviously hadn’t got to that yet, had we, Alice?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” Castor chimed in. “Nothing? Sure.” Alice gave him what she hoped was a stern glare – her sternest, in fact – and he smirked, but he also shut up. Eventually, he sighed. “Look. This is grand, really, but there is an actual point to my being here, as opposed to, you know, in the pub, which is where I would be if there was any justice in this world. Possibly with a bottle of Scotch.” Seeing Mallory’s eyes light up, he frowned. “I thought you’d given up?”
“Do I look like a quitter to you?”
Castor shook his head, then folded his arms across his chest. “Either way, you’ve got a visitor.”
“Who has?” Alice asked. “Mallory, or me?”
“Well, I’m going to guess he’s here for both of you: he was waiting, comforting as that is. I took the liberty: over here.”
Castor trotted away from the path, leaving the others looking at each other in bemusement. “You heard the nice police officer,” said Mallory with a shrug. Vin muttered something about a sandwich and kicked a stone, while Pollux said nothing, scowling. With more than a faint sensation of deja vu, Alice set off after them.
She had already met more than her share of the Fallen in the churchyard: the first she had encountered, Lilith, had been fairly quickly despatched by Mallory and Vin, but there had been others. Batarel. Goap. Jeqon. It was where Lucifer had spoken to her for the first time; where Mallory had shown her what he was capable of when he tied Rimmon to a tree and tortured him, to teach her a lesson.
Castor had stopped with his back to her, arms still folded across his chest. But she could already tell something was very wrong when Mallory’s gun appeared in his hand, and that
was without the look Vin shot her over his shoulder.
As she stepped between them and saw the Fallen leaning back against the tombstone, she understood why.
Xaphan was sitting on one of the newer graves, his legs crossed. The position looked slightly awkward, as he had had to arrange his limbs around the long metal spike which had been driven through one of his thighs, pinning it to the ground. Not that it seemed to bother him all that much; Alice could still hear him humming a tune under his breath. And he appeared to be making a daisy-chain.
He ignored them for a moment longer, then laid his hands in his lap and smiled up at them.
Flames rippled across the top of the headstone, spilling down the sides. The string of daisies in Xaphan’s hands flared brightly, then collapsed into ash. The grass curled and blackened, forcing Vin to hop sideways in an attempt to get clear. It fell to Mallory to step closer to Alice and lay his hand on her arm.
“Alice?”
She ignored him, keeping her eyes fixed on Xaphan.
“Alice.” Firmer this time, Mallory’s fingers closed slightly around her elbow. He watched the flickering behind her eyes.
“Alice.”
The fire died down, flames waning to nothing and leaving only a wide scorch mark in the grass around them.
And then Xaphan grinned at her and said, “How’s the neck?” and the air caught fire.
MALLORY LEAPT BACK, pulling his hand away as the fire engulfed Alice with a roar; wrapping itself around every inch of her and spreading out across the ground like a flood. He shot a look first at Castor, then at Xaphan. Finally, he hauled Vin across to him and hissed in his ear. “Get her out of here. Calm her down. Whatever it takes.”
“You serious?”
“What do you think?”
“Calm her down how?”
“Just get it done.” And with that, he shoved Vin towards Alice.
Vin’s voice drifted back to Mallory, “But then I get to eat, yeah?”
Mallory ignored him and turned his attention to Xaphan. Both Castor and Pollux had dropped back as Vin dragged Alice away, leaving them alone.
“Is this the part where you threaten me? Or are you going to just shoot me?” asked the Fallen.
“If I wanted to shoot you, you’d have been shot.”
“No doubt. Perhaps you’re planning to torture me first, then shoot me. I hear that’s more your style.” He tipped his head on one side and looked up at Mallory. “Of course, I’m forgetting. You’re on a shorter leash these days, aren’t you? Descendeds aren’t supposed to get their hands dirty; at least, not as dirty as you like to. Earthbounds, on the other hand...” He gestured to the spike sticking out of his leg. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think your boy rather enjoyed doing that. Well,” he mused, “what do you expect from the police?”
Mallory struck him across the jaw, knocking his head violently enough to make the bones of his neck click. He crouched down in front of the Fallen and levelled the barrel of his Colt directly between Xaphan’s eyes. “Now, I’m only going to ask you this once, so if I were you, I’d pay attention.” The gun twitched as he spoke; Xaphan’s eyes followed it. When Mallory leaned forward, his next words were little more than a whisper. “Where’s your girlfriend?”
Xaphan smirked, and Mallory’s finger tightened on the trigger.
“Stop. I’m here. I’m here, Mallory.” The woman’s voice came from thin air.
Satisfied, Mallory lowered the handgun and rocked back onto his heels. “Of course you are, Florence. Why don’t you join us?”
A way off to his left, the air shimmered and a young woman appeared. Her hair was almost entirely white, except for a streak of black, although her face was young. There were dark circles beneath her eyes, and she looked tired and pale.
“Let him go. Please.”
“Let him go? One wrong word and I’ll get Alice back here before you can blink, and then you’ll be begging me to shoot him in the face, never mind what she’ll do to you, Florence.” Alice had made it clear she would kill her if their paths crossed again. Kill her very, very slowly. It was Florence who had helped the Fallen get their foothold in the world; Florence who was largely responsible for them tracking Alice through hell, and Florence who had stood by as Alice was locked in a cage and forced to watch an old friend murdered by Xaphan. Alice had thought of Florence and her brother Jester, both half-borns like her, as friends... making Florence’s betrayal even harder to take. And yet here she was, on Alice’s doorstep, waiting for her. Why?
Florence took a step forward. “We... I... It’s Jester. He needs your help.”
ALICE WAS TOO angry to do anything other than let herself be led. Eventually, Vin decided he had got her far enough away from Xaphan and settled himself on the back of a gravestone. “You know,” he said, “I read this book once. It had a line in it about someone getting ‘incandescent with rage.’ I thought it was a stupid line, but you’ve got pretty close to it, haven’t you?”
“Only the one book, Vin?” The fire dimmed slightly.
“Yeah. It didn’t have any pictures in it, kind of put me off.” He shook his head, but kept half an eye on her all the same.
The fire fell away as Alice laughed. He looked so serious that there wasn’t much else she could do, and she settled herself on the next grave along, belonging to ‘L. Harris.’ She didn’t think they’d mind. Vin peered over his sunglasses at her.
“Holding up?”
“Not really.”
“What did he do? Not... back there. Now. This time. Why the pyro?” He was edging around what had happened in hell. What had happened when Xaphan had locked her in that cage in his lab. She shook the memory away.
“He came to say hello earlier, out in the street. And he wasn’t alone.”
“Lucifer?”
“And a rope.” She rubbed at her neck again.
“You alright?”
“Fine. It’s nothing.”
“Nothing. Sure. I wish I could say I was surprised, but these days, they just won’t stay down. And you’ve not told Mallory yet. Why?”
“Because he doesn’t need to know.”
“Uh-huh.”
“What? I can take care of myself!”
“Sure you can. The way I heard it, that’s absolutely true.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, nothing. Except that I heard you’d got yourself beaten half to a pulp taking on Murmur.”
“Won, didn’t I?”
“Sometimes, Alice, it’s not about the winning.”
“Never thought I’d hear an angel saying that.”
“Yeah, but I’m not just any old angel, am I?” He winked at her.
“So now I have to sit here with you until the grown-ups are finished?”
He looked wounded. “Don’t make it sound like a chore.”
“You could at least tell me what you’ve been doing for the last six months, seeing as you seem to know everything about my life. How’s Sari?”
“Next subject.” Vin’s voice took on a hard edge, and he turned his head away.
That was a shock. The last she’d heard, Vin was besotted with Sari. For him to react to her name like that...
“You want to talk about it?”
“Let’s just say ‘no’ and leave it at that, shall we?”
“If you change your mind...”
“Yeah. Thanks.” And that was that.
Except it wasn’t. She could feel it, even from here. He hurt. He hurt so very much. And even though he knew that she couldn’t help but feel it, he was still trying to hide it. “I mean it.”
“I know. Thanks.” He relaxed and the cold edge melted from his voice. “But you don’t want to hear about my love life. I, however, want to hear about yours...” He shot her a grin and waggled his eyebrows, and even though there was nothing to tell – even though he was obviously teasing – she felt her face flush. His grin widened.
“Oh. Really?”
“Shu
t up, Vin.”
“No, go on.”
“Shut up!”
He swiped at her shoulder, and she swiped back, and that was the exact point at which Mallory walked around the corner.
“Are you kidding me? I can’t leave you two alone for a minute. It’s like being a bloody teacher. Worse: a nanny. For fuck’s sake.” He was less angry than he was trying to sound, but something was definitely bothering him. “Inside. We need to talk,” he said, “and you’re not going to like this. Either of you.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Where Angels Fear to Tread
ALICE SHOULD HAVE known what was happening: from the way Castor stood just inside the door, from the way Pollux watched her as she stepped inside, from the way Mallory kept a hand resting on her back as he ushered her ahead of him. All this, and still she didn’t see it coming. Not until she walked into the sacristy and saw the two of them sitting on the beaten-up old sofa in the middle of the room.
The world blurred. She felt herself lunge forward, but she suddenly had no control over her body. Someone else was at the wheel, foot to the floor, making her spin and spin as she hurled herself at Florence. There was a sound like an animal screaming: something roaring in pain, and it was only as she felt her arm connect with flesh and saw Castor stumble back that she realised it was her. It was all her.
The moment she had laid eyes on Florence, her mind emptied. Where there had been thoughts, feelings, something rational before, now there was only fury. No fire, no flames. Just hate. The implacable need to tear the woman in front of her to pieces.
She was wrenched back, away from her prey, and thrown to the ground. Mallory leaned over her, a hand on her chest, pinning her down. “Get a grip, Alice.”
Alice couldn’t do anything more than splutter at him. He was on their side? She stared up at him and he stared straight back. “Trust me.”
She nodded mutely, which he took as a sign that he could let her up. As she brushed herself down, she caught sight of Vin, still in the doorway. He was watching Xaphan and Florence with a look of barely-disguised contempt, his fists curled into tight balls and clamped down by his sides.