Текст книги "Angel Fever"

Автор книги: L. A. Weatherly

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

25

THE 4 X 4 TRUNDLED steadily over the empty road.

When we’d left the lodge three mornings ago, I’d felt beyond relieved to see the blue skies overhead. Only about six inches of snow lay on the ground. The truck could handle that, if the good weather held.

Two weeks, I kept thinking. Mentally counting back, I’d left the shopping mall nine days ago. If the angel I’d fought in the base corridor had been accurate, we still had five days before Raziel attacked.

It didn’t make me feel any more relaxed, even though we’d crossed the New York border that morning – and with luck, would be in Pawntucket in just four or five hours. I sat curled tensely in the passenger seat as Seb drove, staring out at the pointed, white-covered fir trees. It was so serene, like driving through a Christmas card.

The atmosphere inside the truck was quiet too, though not exactly serene. Seb and I were only speaking when we had to. I kept thinking of all the things I wanted to say and then biting them back. I didn’t want to argue any more.

The kiss between us had…not been a good idea.

At first, it had seemed perfect. We’d been propped against the bar, holding each other tight, our mouths hot and searching. I’d felt drunk with sensation as I caressed Seb’s warm back beneath his T-shirt, thinking, Oh god, I’ve missed this – please don’t stop, Seb, don’t stop. Above, our angels had explored each other too, just as they had the time we’d kissed in Tepito: a dizzying burst of energy as their winged forms met and merged.

And then it happened.

Our psychic link had faded some with our distance this past year. But now, with our angels’ energies so entwined, there were suddenly no secrets at all.

A girl with long auburn hair. The warmth of her smile – the sound of her laughter.

As images and knowledge swept through me, I stiffened. So did Seb; I think we both pulled away at the same moment. I stared at him in dismay, my pulse still hammering from the kiss, trying to get my head around what I’d sensed.

And then I saw that Seb was staring at me in the same way.

“What?” I whispered, swallowing.

The corner of his mouth lifted. There was no humour to it. “You are not ready for this,” he said. “So I think we had better forget it.”

It was the last thing I’d expected. “What? Seb, I am! It’s been over a year now. I—”

“It doesn’t matter; you’re still not over Alex.” He turned away and scooped up the sleeping bag, starting stiffly towards the fireplace.

Suddenly angry, I rushed after him and grabbed his arm. “Look, I’ll always love Alex – I never said I didn’t! But that’s got nothing to do with—”

He whirled towards me. “It’s got everything to do with it! He’s all you want. You don’t want me at all.”

“That’s…I…” I trailed off, feeling cold.

“The whole time—” Seb hurled the sleeping bag onto the sofa, hard. “How could I have been so stupid? I should have known that you just wanted a – a substituto.”

“I didn’t just want a substitute! Seb, I really care about you!”

“Not like that, and you know it,” he snapped back. “You’ve been feeling lonely – and then when I got hurt, it reminded you too much of when Alex died. You wanted someone – and lucky me, I was here!” He spread his arms out.

My voice was faint. “There was more to it than that.”

“No. There was not,” he said flatly. “My angel was part of yours, Willow – I know.”

I stood trembling, awash with shame as I realized he was right: it was really Alex I’d been longing for. I’d completely used Seb, even if I hadn’t meant to. Anger of my own followed. It was a lot easier than facing what I’d done…and the fact that I was nowhere near over Alex after all.

I crossed my arms tightly. “Yes, well – speaking of kissing one person and wanting another one, how about you?”

“Me?”

“Yes! You’re not the only one who got something psychically, all right? You’re in love with Meghan; you have been for months!”

Seb’s jaw dropped; his look of surprise was almost comical. “What are you talking about? I love you – I always have.”

My temper faded as we stared at each other. I shook my head. “No, Seb,” I said quietly. “You did once, but now it’s just a – a habit, a memory. It’s Meghan you’re in love with; you’ve just been so hung up on me that you couldn’t see it.”

His smile was hard. “I can see very well, querida – and you’re all I’ve ever wanted. Believe me, I wish it wasn’t true.”

“But it isn’t! Seb, I know; my angel was part of yours too. You’ve got me all built up in your mind like some kind of dream girl – that’s all it is.”

Dark anger clouded Seb’s face. “Let me tell you something,” he said. “I have sensed you since I was six. For fourteen years, I have loved you – since before I even knew what the word meant. You want Alex instead of me? Fine, I’m used to it. But do not tell me who I love.”

My voice rose in frustration. “Oh god, Seb, at least be honest with yourself! Why do you think you’ve been so unhappy these last few months? You’re miserable without Meghan! You love her so much that she’s like an ache inside of you—”

Seb looked as if he could have happily throttled me. Brushing past, he strode to the bar again. “Why don’t we eat and take a break from this very fascinating conversation?”

I blew out a breath. “Yes, why don’t we? Since you’re not listening to a word I say.”

It was the first hot meal we’d had in days. I don’t think either of us enjoyed it much. We sat at opposite ends of the sheepskin rug, eating in silence. The adrenalin from the argument had faded and now I just felt desolate.

Alex.

My throat tightened. Remembering my moment of peace gazing over the plains, I wanted to cry. I should have known by now: grief took three steps forward and two steps back. I longed for Alex so much that it hurt – and I was so tired of hurting. Dull fury at him stirred, that he was still putting me through this even after a year.

Seb had found some red wine behind the bar; he’d offered me a glass with a sardonic lift of his eyebrows. Now he sat drinking from his own glass, moodily contemplating the fire.

I stared down at my wine’s red glow. “Seb, look, I—”

He drained his glass. “Whatever you are going to say, I can live without it.”

Stung, I said, “I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry. I promise I didn’t mean to use you.”

Seb regarded me coolly, his eyes dark brown in the firelight. “Do you want the sofa or the rug?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Then get up; you’re on my bed.”

Fine. I rose and went over to the sofa, where I snaked the sleeping bag out of its case. A few minutes later I was wrapped in its warmth, gazing into the fire.

The only sounds were the flames snapping and the faint whistle of the storm from outside. Seb had rolled himself up in the sheepskin rug; he lay with his hands linked under his head, glaring up at the ceiling.

I cleared my throat. “Listen, um…if it turns out that we can get out of here tomorrow, I’d like you to take the first car we can hotwire and go to Idaho.”

In a swift motion, Seb had propped himself up on one elbow. “What are you talking about?”

I shrugged, unable to meet his eyes. “I just don’t think it makes much sense for us both to be here, that’s all. One of us should go back and tell the others what’s happening.”

Seb snorted, his gaze raking over me. “Did I say you are blind? What you really are is transparente. No, Willow. I am not going to Idaho, no matter who you think I’m in love with.”

My hand twisted hard at the sleeping bag. “Seb, please! We don’t know what’s going to happen in Pawntucket, and I need to know you’re safe, at least – that you have a chance to be happy.”

“Ah, yes. Because you know what would make me happy.”

I was close to tears. “I do! Look, I know you don’t believe me yet, but you can still be with the person you love – and I can never have that again, not ever! Please don’t throw it away! If you come with me, you’ll probably die.”

His jaw hardened. “I am coming, Willow. There is nothing you can say to stop me.”

“But—”

Suddenly his voice was low, furious. “Listen to me! This isn’t just about saving your town any more. Something big is going to happen there – for the whole world. Since your psychic powers are so wonderful, do not tell me you don’t sense it.”

The moment froze: Seb with his chestnut curls tousled, the shadowy room around us. “Yes,” I admitted finally. “I’ve been feeling it too. For days now.”

He gave a hard, cynical smile and flopped back down onto the floor. “So it’s decided, yes? This is my fight too. Trust me, I would be here no matter what I feel for you.”

I didn’t bother mentioning Meghan this time. He’d thought it was me for so long – he just couldn’t see it yet.

Neither of us spoke again. I lay staring into the fire. And thinking about what might lie ahead, I swallowed…and hoped that Seb would have a chance to realize the truth for himself.

Now, three days later, Seb and I took turns driving through the snow-dusted Adirondacks. I gazed out the windshield as the familiar mountains glided past, trying to ignore the growing certainty that whatever waited ahead would impact on the whole world – but was going to be especially awful for me, personally.

When I wasn’t worrying about Pawntucket, I was aching for Alex. I felt utterly flattened, lonelier than I’d been in months. I’d thought I was moving on…and now this. As we drove, I reached for my mother, hugging the familiar feel of her close. Then I gently let go, glad for once that she wasn’t actually here.

By noon we’d reached the foothills north of Pawntucket.

I stopped the truck, and Seb and I got out. My hometown spread out below us like a picture postcard, so normal-looking that it made my skin prickle. Except that it was totally silent – I could sense only a handful of people.

Was Nina one? And did she, like the rest of the world, think I was a terrorist? Suddenly I remembered the time we drove down to New York City to see a concert – the way Nina and I had danced in the crowd. The thought of her turning against me made my stomach clench.

“So, I guess we’d better go check it out,” I said finally. Seb nodded.

As I opened the car door again, I stiffened, the keys gouging into my palm. It was that same weird sensation I’d felt at the abandoned house – as if I were the centre of the world, with everything straining towards me.

They all need me, I thought dazedly. And then blinked, wondering what that even meant.

Before I could ask Seb if he’d felt it too, his eyes narrowed. He stood with one arm on top of the open passenger door, gazing to the south-east. “Angels,” he said.

When I sensed what he was picking up my breath caught. Angels – thousands of them – about thirty miles away. They were gathering, waiting; so many we could feel it even from this distance.

I glanced at Seb. “Schenectady’s an Eden now. They must be there.”

He threw himself into the truck. “Come – we’d better hurry.”

The familiar road was way worse than I remembered, but I went as fast as I could around potholes. Then as the first houses began to appear, I saw that things weren’t so normal in Pawntucket after all. A huge oak tree lay completely uprooted, and houses stood at weird slants, roofs and porches buckling.

Earthquake damage. I hadn’t realized until now that Pawntucket had had any tremors. I licked my lips, suddenly more apprehensive than ever. “Maybe we should stop and let our angels check things out,” I said.

“Yes, good,” Seb said shortly – and I knew that no matter how angry he still was, he would die to protect me, as I would do for him. I pulled off the road, and a heartbeat later our angels were flying over Pawntucket.

In the air I stared down in dismay. Some buildings looked almost normal; others leaned in all directions – walls crushed, front porches falling off. A Victorian house I’d always liked looked as if a giant’s fist had smashed down on it. One whole street had been razed to rubble; more trees lay on their sides, roots exposed.

Everything was so quiet. Where were the people? Gliding in the cold air, I turned on one wing and headed towards the centre of town with Seb beside me. From the old-fashioned town square, I saw the brick tower of the town hall. At least it looked intact.

Then as we flew over the square, figures appeared out of nowhere; they ran across the street and darted out of view. I stared after them. Wait, I knew them – knew all of them.

The bells of the town hall started pealing. “Attack!” shouted a voice.

But they shouldn’t be able to see us! I thought – and then bullets were slicing past. I jerked backwards, wings flapping; Seb darted in front of me. Seb, no! I thought at him.

“They don’t have halos!” someone cried in frustration.

“Don’t let them get away!” yelled someone else.

Gunfire rained around us. Seb and I went high and started flying quickly back to the truck. The human Seb and I were already hurtling towards the centre of town, as fast as I could drive over the damaged streets. Come on, come on, I thought fervently as our angels sped towards us.

More people had appeared with guns, and another bullet whined past as we flew. Our angels reached the truck, diving straight through the windshield into our human forms.

“Maybe we should go the other way now,” Seb said dryly, eyeing the approaching mob.

I stopped the truck with a lurch. “No!” I gasped. “I know them – and they’re fighting the angels, so they’re on our side.” I scrambled out before Seb could respond; I heard him swear.

“Stop! Stop!” I cried as a dozen people thundered towards us. “It’s me – Willow!”

Scott Mason, former football star of Pawntucket High, was at the front of the pack. He jogged to a halt, holding a rifle. His once-broad form was leaner now, his brown hair longer.

“Willow?” he repeated, his voice rising in disbelief.

The group gaped at us. Seb had gotten out too and was holding one of the machine guns, his mouth grim – and I knew he didn’t trust my former classmates not to attack again.

Because everyone who’d come after us was someone I’d gone to Pawntucket High with. Scott, still wearing his purple and white letterman jacket. A girl with long auburn hair named Rachel – we’d taken freshman biology together. No sign of Nina, though.

Scott had raised his rifle against his shoulder, pointing it at us. “If you’re really Willow, what the hell was up with those angels?” he snapped.

I swallowed. “They’re – they’re part of us. We’re both half-angel.”

Someone at the rear had peeled off and was heading at a run back towards town. I watched nervously, wondering if she was going for reinforcements.

Scott snorted. “Yeah, you’re supposedly half-angel – who are you really?”

I stared at him. “What? Come on, Scott, don’t you recognize me?”

“Those angels flew right inside you!” he barked. “The Willow we knew is on our side – I’m not taking any chances.” Scott had always been expert with a football; he didn’t look any less so with a rifle as he stepped closer.

“Stay. Back.” Seb’s voice was a razor blade. “My angel can survive without me. If you shoot, he will grab the machine gun and fire on you all.”

The bluff worked. Scott lowered his rifle a fraction, his handsome face cautious.

“But I am on your side!” I cried. “I’ve been fighting the angels for years – we both have.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what you would say, isn’t it?” he demanded.

“But the half-angel thing can’t be true, can it?” protested Rachel, stepping closer. “I thought it was just a story!”

How had they already known I was half-angel? Before I could respond, a dark-haired guy said, “Either way, that doesn’t mean this is her! After two years? And now, after this morning?”

“Way too convenient,” put in someone else.

“Of course it’s really me!” I exclaimed. “Rachel – remember how crazy we made Mr. Kovak in biology? We refused to dissect frogs, remember? And, Scott, you flunked sophomore English – Coach Campbell was furious at you.”

“Angels are psychic,” muttered someone darkly.

“I’m psychic, remember?” But it was clear that nothing I said or did would convince them. “We’re here to help! ”I said anyway, raising my voice. “Pawntucket’s about to come under attack—”

“Attack?” Scott hissed. “You’ve led them right to us, haven’t you?”

“No! You’ve got to listen—”

Scott snapped the rifle to his shoulder again; with no hesitation, Seb let loose a burst of machine-gun fire, scattering it at his feet. As Scott jumped back, I stood breathing hard, my mind spinning. This could not be happening.

“Stop!” shouted a new voice. Running footsteps were heading towards us. “Stop!”

A guy wearing an old duffle coat and a grey thermal cap came sprinting up, with the girl who’d taken off before and someone else a few paces behind. Panting, the guy glanced at me and then the crowd, his expression incredulous. “What are you doing? This is Willow!”

“You don’t know what happened!” Scott said hotly. “She—”

“Yeah, Leslie told us,” broke in the new guy. Average height, a boyish face. “And it’s still Willow! She’s half-angel, remember? I told you that.”

I stared, wondering who this was and how he knew me – and then suddenly the figure who’d been bringing up the rear propelled herself into my arms. “Willow! It’s you; it’s really you—”

Nina. Tears jumped to my eyes. I forgot everything else as I held her tightly, weak with relief that she hadn’t believed the terrorist stories after all.

She pulled back, swiping at her eyes. “Oh, god, I can’t believe you’re here!”

“Me neither,” I said faintly. Nina was an inch taller than me, with golden-brown hair that used to be straightened paper-flat. Now it framed her cute, snub-nosed face in a bob, making her brownish-green eyes look even larger.

Scott still held his rifle half at the ready. “Yeah, but – come on, that’s not how being a half-angel works, is it?” he sputtered. “An angel flying right inside you?”

My neck warmed. I felt so self-conscious, confirming to all my old classmates that I wasn’t completely human. Steadily, I said, “Well, that’s how it works in our case, and we’re the only half-angels that we know about. Our angels are part of us.”

Nina’s gaze widened as she glanced from me to Seb – but to my amazement, she didn’t look disbelieving. More than her hair must have changed in two years.

“Listen, if Jonah and Nina are sure it’s her, that’s good enough for me,” Rachel said firmly.

The murmurs of assent relaxed my spine a little, and then it hit me: Jonah? I turned and gaped at the newcomer as memories of the Denver Church of Angels whirled past. No way – it couldn’t be. Then mentally, I put him into a grey suit with an angelic blue tie; his gentle brown eyes were just the same.

It was really him.

“Yeah, we’re sure,” Jonah was saying. “Come on, Scott, put your gun down. All of you.”

Though his voice was mild, everyone obeyed. I stood staring, trying to take this in. “But – what are you doing here?” I blurted out.

Jonah glanced at me with an embarrassed smile. “Hi,” he said belatedly, stepping forward and offering his hand. “It’s great to see you again, Willow. I mean, it really is.”

I shook his hand in a daze. “You too,” I said softly. Our hands stayed gripped longer than necessary; suddenly my throat was tight. Jonah had been Raziel’s assistant. He’d risked his life to help us try to stop the Second Wave.

I let go. “Um – this is my friend Seb. Sebastián Carrera. Seb, this is Nina Bergmann, and Jonah…I’m sorry, I don’t know your last name.”

“Fisk.” Jonah extended his hand to Seb. I saw him glance at the empty truck and dreaded the question I knew would follow: Where’s Alex?

“Listen – we’re here for a reason,” I said hurriedly. “Pawntucket’s in danger; Raziel plans to attack in five days. At least, I hope we’ve still got five days.”

Jonah stared at the mention of his former employer. “Raziel’s going to attack here?”

Nina gripped my arm. “Quick, tell us everything!”

I told them what I’d gotten from the angel in the corridor. “Something’s happening here that the angels weren’t expecting,” I finished in a rush. “Something they feel threatened by.”

Jonah looked pale. “Yeah…yeah, I guess maybe there is.”

Scott’s jaw had turned to stone. “Oh, man, only five days – and the others are out checking the food stores! We’ve got to get them back so we can start planning, do something! Town hall, right? One hour!”

He and the others took off at a run, leaving only Nina and Jonah. “Shouldn’t we go too?” Nina asked anxiously.

Jonah still looked pretty shaken, but his voice was steady. “Scott’s got people to help him. And besides—” He glanced at Seb and me, his fists moving in his coat pockets. “We’ve got to talk,” he said intently. “I need to find out what the Angel Killers have been doing and tell you what’s been going on here. You, um…probably need to hear about it, Willow.”

Suddenly I had a terrible feeling that Jonah had a tendency towards understatement. “Yes, all right.” I glanced back at the truck. “Should we move this? It’s kind of out in the open.”

Nina nodded, giving it a worried glance. “Most of us live at the elementary school now – on Birch, remember? You can park it under the covered walkway there, so it’s not visible from the air. Jonah and I will meet you over at the town hall.”

Not visible from the air – I couldn’t believe the way sceptical Nina was taking all this in her stride. Two years ago she would have poured scorn on the very idea that angels really existed.

I shoved my questions away for the time being and started back to the truck. “Okay. Meet you there.”

As Seb and I drove to the school, a weighted silence settled down on us again. I glanced at his familiar profile and cleared my throat.

“Seb, look, I know you’re still angry at me…but do you think we could just pretend everything’s okay for the next few days?” I managed a smile. “If we actually survive this, you can go right back to not talking to me, I promise.”

He gave a quiet snort. Finally he shook his head. “You are the most infuriating person I have ever met,” he said tiredly. “But, yes, you are right.”

We’d reached the squat brick building of the Neil Armstrong Elementary School by then – I rocked us onto the sidewalk and parked under the covered walkway at the front. As Seb and I got out, our eyes met. He still looked irritated, but the corner of his mouth lifted a fraction.

“Friends?” I said.

He made a face. “No, I don’t think that’s the right word.” He pulled out his rifle from the back and slung it over one shoulder. “Even when I want to strangle you, you know, it doesn’t matter. We are still…” He stopped with a weary shrug.

My chest felt tight as I nodded, understanding. The bond we shared would always be there, like a deep river connecting us. Whether we wanted it to be or not.

As Seb and I walked down the familiar streets, I couldn’t stop staring. The fact that some homes were okay made the damaged ones look even worse. In the town square, half the buildings were sagging – broken windows, smashed-in walls. The drugstore had collapsed completely.

At the square’s centre, the town hall rose up from a snowy lawn, its tall brick structure stolid and unchanged. Nina and Jonah stood waiting on its front steps. They had their arms around each other; when they saw us, they stepped apart.

I blinked. Oh. So…apparently Nina didn’t have a thing for Scott Mason any more.

As we joined them, I bit my lip and glanced back towards the square. “I didn’t know you had such bad tremors here,” I said. Stupid comment. But I hated to see Pawntucket so slumped and defeated.

Nina nodded, studying the square with sad eyes. “We keep meaning to rebuild, but…” She sighed.

“I guess it hasn’t really been a priority,” Jonah said quietly. “One day, I hope. But come on, let’s get inside.” His eyes met mine. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”