Текст книги "Angel Fever"

Автор книги: L. A. Weatherly

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Текущая страница: 23 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

34

THE DRIVE TO SCHENECTADY ONLY took half an hour. Alex sat without speaking as I drove, rubbing his chin with his knuckle as he stared out at the empty highway. I longed to have a radio to switch on – anything to battle the quiet. Anything to take my mind off what I’d shouted.

But every word I’d said was true.

Finally I saw the familiar billboard, its silver letters sparkling in the headlights: THE ANGELS CAN SAVE YOU! Church of Angels Schenectady, Exit 8. A mile later I spun the steering wheel.

Alex looked at me for the first time since we’d set off. “How do you know he’s there?”

“He always stays at the church,” I answered tightly. Two years ago Raziel and I had had a psychic link. I knew far more about my father than I wanted to.

The energy of thousands of angels prickled at me like the air before a storm. Up ahead, the glow of Schenectady Eden drowned out the stars. Before I’d travelled even another half-mile, I saw the stark barbed-wire fence that enclosed the Church of Angels and the rest of Schenectady.

I pulled over to the shoulder under some trees and killed the engine. Staring at the fence, I said, “I guess we’d better walk from here on out.”

Alex was checking his rifle; he slid the bolt home without looking at me. “Unless you plan on driving right through the main gate. Hey, that’d get Raziel’s attention.”

I didn’t answer. We got out and started to walk. I’d rarely been this close to an Eden before; my every instinct was screaming at me to get away, not stroll right up to it.

Street lights up ahead shone on the church and blocks of new apartment buildings – mostly dark, with one or two lights on here and there.

The fence sliced right across the road. As we got closer, we ducked into a field to the side. “Keep low,” Alex said curtly.

Following his lead, I lay on my stomach and we started edging forward, squirming on our elbows across the hard, frosty ground. Alex looked as if he’d done this a million times. Maybe he had, back before we met, when he was still stalking angels one by one.

When we reached the fence, Alex swung his rifle off his back and brought the telescopic lens to his eye. “Guard coming – he’s human,” he murmured; a second later I saw the shadowy figure for myself.

We stayed very still as he patrolled not ten feet away. The second the footfalls faded, Alex hissed, “Now – just like on the Torre Mayor.”

I knew exactly what he meant. My angel soared out of me; I shifted to my most tangible form. Alex put his arms around me, and my angel grasped hold of us both. In a sudden dizzying arc of wings and light, she flew us up over the barbed wire and down again on the other side.

She merged with me again; Alex and I were already running for the shadows hugging the nearest building. When we reached their cover, we slowed to a quick walk, heading towards the church.

“Let’s hope they only patrol the borders,” Alex muttered. “I don’t really want to shoot anyone tonight.”

I couldn’t answer. I was picking up human energy now, packed in densely all around me: a deep love for the angels but also waves of weakness – sickness. No one in this section of the Eden had been well for a long time.

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.

Long strands of green that looked like curtains, shifting in the wind. My mother’s voice the day she’d taken the picture: It’s a special tree. Someday I’ll tell you the story of why you’re named after it.

Alex’s grip tightened on my arms. “What else have you seen?”

I felt dizzy. “I – I think I know where the gate is. It’s the willow tree in the photo. It’s not in Pawntucket. It’s in Murray Park, a few miles outside it.”

We stood staring at each other as we both realized: there was only one option, and it didn’t include saving my mother’s life.

Somehow I shoved away my anguish. “I’ve got to get there,” I said. “I’ve got to try to link with the energy from the angels’ world while I still can, while Mom is still – there.”

Alex nodded, the muscles in his arms rigid. “Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.”

35

ALEX GLANCED IN THE REAR-VIEW mirror every few seconds as he drove them back to Pawntucket. How fast could angels fly – ninety miles an hour? More? He was taking no chances. They were already going well over a hundred, but he edged the speedometer up higher.

Willow sat tensely. The expression on her face tore at him. Her mother. Oh Jesus, not her mother – and not like this, with him and Willow so helpless to do anything. Hasn’t she been through enough already? he thought savagely.

Suddenly he was hurtled back to the time after his brother died. He’d spent months expecting to see Jake around every corner, had dreamed of him almost every night. When the CIA had taken over the operation of his father’s camp barely a month later, Alex had hit the road gratefully, not wanting to interact with anyone – not wanting to care about anyone ever again.

Willow had brought him back to life.

The drive to Pawntucket seemed to take both years and scant minutes. A few miles from the turn-off, Alex glanced at Willow. “Where’s this park?”

Her face was like a statue’s. “On the other side of town, on Route 16.”

The dashboard clock read 5:44. “Once we get into town, you take the truck – I’ll help with the attack,” Alex said. “We’ve got to keep the angels away from you. They’ll sense what you’re doing otherwise and kill you.”

Willow’s face paled, but she didn’t argue.

“Look,” he said harshly, downshifting onto the exit. “I know this isn’t the best time, but it’s the only time we’ve got. Give me a clue what I’m fighting for here, Willow. Am I just trying to save the world? Or is there a chance for us?”

She winced. “Alex—”

“Check out the clock,” he bit out. “I could die in sixteen minutes.”

Willow looked at him then; he could see her reluctance. “I don’t know,” she said in a quiet voice. “I meant everything I said, Alex. I can’t go from grieving you to being your girlfriend again like nothing happened. I just can’t. I feel so—” She broke off, closing her eyes hard.

“I don’t know what I want if we survive this,” she said finally. “All I know is that right now…it’s not you.”

It felt as if his soul were being ripped out. He wanted to argue, point out that, yes, she was angry at him and had a right to be – but was she really going to throw everything away?

Except he knew that, to her, it felt as if he’d thrown it away already.

A jumble of sensations came: the look of her in the morning, hair rumpled, green eyes smiling. The feel of her in his arms, sending his pulse soaring. Talking with her for hours – exchanging a look with her across a room, their eyes a private world.

They were in the outskirts of Pawntucket by then; Alex went as fast as he could down the damaged streets. When he finally responded, he hated what came out – but it was the only thing he could do.

“You can find me if you want to, right?”

Willow’s brow creased. “Psychically, you mean? Yes, of course. If you’re still in this dimension, that is,” she added somewhat bitterly.

His didn’t look at her. His voice was low and controlled. “Okay, then. If we live through this, then once I know you’re all right, I’ll leave. If you want me, you can come and find me.”

Willow started to say something and stopped. She nodded, her expression pained.

As they neared the square Alex leaned on the horn, blasting it non-stop. People scrambled down roofs to run towards him. He lurched to a halt in front of the diner. Up above, someone had started ringing the town hall bells; the peals were urgent, echoing.

He and Willow got out; as she rushed round to his side to get in, he couldn’t help himself – he gripped her face and kissed her hard. “I will always love you, no matter what,” he said fiercely. “Do not die.”

As the truck sped off, Alex could see people racing into the square from all directions. Seb came sprinting from the school; he had the machine guns with him and a rifle over his shoulder.

As the bells died to nothing, Jonah came tearing down the town hall steps. “Is – is this it?” he panted out.

Alex nodded grimly. “Yeah. This is it.” He leaped up onto an old pickup truck; the snowy truck bed rocked. Two hundred tense faces stared up at him. He refused to think about the slaughter at the base.

“Okay, listen up!” he called out through cupped hands. “We have got to stop the angels from getting past us. We found the gate; Willow’s on her way there now, and they’ll kill her if they realize.”

He could sense the crowd’s sudden hope at the news and was brutally glad that he had that much to offer them, at least. Because Christ, they were going to need all the help they could get.

He glanced hurriedly at the tower clock. “They’ll be here in eleven minutes. I need three buffer zones. The south-east end of town is the first one – who was going to set off the nail bombs on the outskirts?” About seventy people raised their hands. “Good – wait until the angels are in range, then the second you set off your bomb, run for one of the fortified houses; take them out as they come. Go!”

The group raced off, disappearing away into the streets to the south. “Who are the best shots left?” called Alex. To his relief, no one wasted time being modest; about forty hands rose.

“You guys are the third buffer zone, streets north of the square – do not let the angels get past you. Take the machine guns with you. Hurry!”

Beside the truck, Seb held up the machine guns. Two of the AKs snatched them away as the group took off running.

With their footsteps still echoing, Alex said to those remaining, “Okay, the second buffer zone is right here. Take cover and set off the nail bombs when you first see the angels; once the bombs go off, get up onto the roofs if you can – otherwise use the square; you’ll need as clear a shot as possible. That’s it – go!”

Alex jumped down from the truck as people started darting off. Seb was heading towards the third buffer zone; Alex grabbed the half-angel’s arm. “No, stay here – you and I will take the angels as they cross the square, then join the third zone.” Seb nodded.

Jonah’s face was apprehensive but determined. “I’m not fighting,” he said in a rush. “I’m going to take the shortwave up into the tower and broadcast this – let the world know what’s happening.”

Nina still stood nearby; her eyes widened. “Up in the tower?” she echoed. “But I thought you’d be with the fighters on the ground!”

“I’m not a good shot and you know it,” Jonah said tightly. “But I can do this, and people need to know what’s going on.”

She looked close to tears. “No! You’ll be the first thing the angels see when they come over the square – they’ll go right for you—”

“We do not have time for this,” Alex cut in savagely. “Jonah, if that’s what you’re doing, then for Chrissake hurry!”

With an agonized look at Nina, Jonah turned to go. Alex grabbed his wrist. “And do a good job,” he added in a low voice. “I want the Voice of Freedom to tell this exactly like it is.”

Nina flung herself at Jonah suddenly, hugging him tight. “Oh god, be careful.”

“I’m sorry,” he said as he clutched her to him. “I have to do this—” He kissed her hard, then ran off towards the town hall. Nina struggled to compose herself and then raced off too, her footfalls echoing.

In the sudden silence, Alex and Seb ran for the doorway of Drake’s Diner. A garish painted mallard still flew on the glass door. Drake’s – the best in town! read the cheery lettering.

The square was utterly still, with shadowy figures pressed in every doorway. Alex’s eyes flicked up to the clock. Two minutes. Scanning, he could feel the great angelic force heading their way now, and his skin crawled at its sheer size. Even more than he’d thought – there must be five thousand. Christ, how long would the first buffer zone be able to hold that back?

And how many people were about to die?

Seb seemed to pick up on this. “You’ve done all you can,” he said, still gazing out at the square. “And you did well, with only minutes to prepare them.”

Things had been slightly strained between him and Seb since that morning in the boys’ bathroom; it seemed stupid now. “Listen, stay alive during this, okay?” Alex said, glancing at Seb’s profile.

Seb gave a dry smile. “Yes, look who’s talking.”

They fell silent then as the first explosions came from the south-east – blast after thundering blast. As the sound of gunfire started, Alex stood poised, watching the sky above the square. The rifle in his hands felt cool, ready.

“Here we go,” he muttered, and then shot Seb a look. “Can you sense her? Is she okay?”

Seb had his rifle pressed against his shoulder, his stubbled face intent. He paused, then nodded. “She hasn’t gotten through to the angels’ world yet.”

Be careful, babe, thought Alex. Please, be careful. And then flashing white wings and angry, glorious faces appeared over the square, and there was no more time for thought.

36

MURRAY PARK SAT ON A HILL north of Pawntucket. I screeched to a halt in the empty parking lot; the picnic benches looked damp and abandoned.

The whole drive there, I’d had my consciousness linked with Mom’s, terrified that any second I’d sense Raziel with her. So far, he hadn’t arrived. What I couldn’t let myself think about at all was Alex’s final kiss, his lips almost harsh against mine.

A hiking trail snaked away into the trees. I raced down it, old snow crunching under my feet as my breath came in short, icy puffs. When I’d lived in Pawntucket, I hadn’t come here much; I’d sort of saved it for special occasions, when I wanted to feel close to Mom. But the willow tree was just as I remembered, beside a small frozen pond. Its draping branches were empty of leaves now, wreathed in frost like crystal curtains.

The hill dropped away to one side. Below, Pawntucket was laid out like a toy town. As I reached the tree, I froze. In the distance I could see angels coming, spreading across the sky in a solid sheet of white. My breath caught. So many of them!

Alex, I thought wildly. And Seb, Nina and Jonah, everybody else. There was no way they could defend against that, none.

No, I thought, staring down at the town. This couldn’t happen. It just couldn’t.

There was no time to try and protect everyone’s auras again; I did it anyway. I quickly shut my eyes and this time didn’t let myself think at all. I just stretched my energy out as wide as I could, as if it were a huge blanket.

Wide – wider. The sensation was bizarre, as if at any second my energy would fray into pieces. But it didn’t – it just kept expanding, getting thinner. Slowly, my heart beating hard, I draped it down over Pawntucket.

The dizzying sense of two hundred different auras hit me; I could feel them all craning towards me in return. My teeth clenched as I tried to grab hold, shrink them down – it was like trying to juggle too many balls at once. I was trembling; I’d never be able to hold this, even if I’d managed to get them all.

The sound of distant explosions started. No more time. Breathing hard, I opened my eyes – and stared as angels jerked backwards in the air like shot wildfowl; others exploded like fireworks, with thousands more coming up behind.

Please, please, let me have done some good, I thought frantically – and ran for the tree.

As I ducked through its branches, the smell of damp earth enveloped me. Forcing myself to ignore the gunfire, I took a deep breath to steady myself. With one hand, I reached out and touched the tree’s bark – felt its slight roughness. Then I lifted up through my chakras and studied the air in front of me.

At first I couldn’t see anything and was horror-struck. Maybe I’d gotten this wrong. Stop. Calm. Look again. And this time, ghostly in the predawn light, I saw the gate just as Alex had described: a small patch of air like rippling water.

Limp with relief, I quickly explored it psychically. Not quite complete yet – the ether felt thin, insubstantial, as if I could flick my finger through. Suddenly my heart leaped so hard it was painful: I could feel my mother’s spirit right on the other side.

Mom, I’m here! I thought wildly. I craned my energy towards hers; it was as if we were each touching a pane of glass from opposite sides. Warmth started to build: a gentle swirling that was melting away the fabric between worlds.

Suddenly I saw myself twelve years ago, standing in the sunshine, only feet from this very spot – my mother, smiling and taking my photo: It’s a special tree. Someday I’ll tell you the story of why you’re named after it.

“Mom, I know,” I whispered as other images started to come.

Raziel had met with her here – I’d been conceived here. The barrier between worlds was so thin in this place because her spirit had spent years just a hair’s breadth away, yearning for the angel she’d been in love with. My throat clenched as I saw her looking young, beautiful – her green eyes full of awe.

Raziel had known exactly what he was doing to her and he hadn’t cared.

Then I caught my breath – my connection with my mother’s physical self had strengthened too. All at once I could see everything: Mom was sitting in an armchair in what looked like a lake house, her blonde hair soft around her face.

“Mom!” I cried aloud.

“She’s in here,” said Aunt Jo’s voice.

My heart froze. No! With a sense of loving regret, my mother’s spirit in the other world drew quickly away. A second later I could feel her again – still in the angels’ world, but now just beside her physical self.

I trebled my efforts, directing my will at the thin spot between worlds. A tiny hole appeared – I seized hold, began prising it open. A rush of energy came, tugging at me; I gasped at its ferocity.

In the lake house, my mother had come out of her daze and was frowning at the door in confusion. “Mom, don’t just sit there – run!” I pleaded.

But she didn’t hear me. She’d never heard me, no matter how hard I’d tried.

Raziel entered slowly, footsteps echoing. He wore a rain-flecked jacket; his black hair was mussed from the wind. He smiled.

“Hello, Miranda,” he said.

“Stay away from her,” I whispered raggedly. The hole between worlds was larger now; I could see another willow tree. On the ethereal level, its leaves were shifting prisms that caught the light.

Raziel crossed to my mother, his tread deliberate against the floorboards. His eyes stayed fixed on hers with a small, considering smile. “Why, Miranda, this is just like old times, isn’t it?”

And he shifted to his angel form and plunged his hands into her aura.

“No!” I shouted. The hole wavered – somehow I managed to hang on and keep going. Raziel was instantly aware of me; his thoughts came crawling into my mind:

Hello, daughter. I’m glad you’re here – it makes things so much easier.

Mom’s energy was growing weaker by the second. I struggled to hide my panic. Leave her alone! I thought back fiercely. In front of me, the hole between worlds was almost large enough now.

He ignored me. Perhaps it has escaped your notice, but your town is under attack, he said. And, look – I seem to have your mother too.

A breeze shifted the willow’s long strands. Between its frosty branches, I could see Pawntucket; the angels were like a blizzard swirling over it. Gunfire was still sounding.

I’m afraid I can’t stop the attack, now that it’s started, Raziel said, and actually had the nerve to sound regretful. Such a pity, but I hope it makes an effective point – that I am not to be trifled with.

My mother’s aura was shrinking, crumpling as Raziel fed. Bile rose in my throat; I could tell he was relishing the taste of her again after all these years.

Stop it! You’ll kill her!

Yes, that would be a shame, wouldn’t it? Especially after the deaths of so many of your friends. But, you know, I think there’s a way we could stop such a terrible thing from happening.

He kept feeding. My mother’s smile was gentle, her body limp and sagging. Oh god, she couldn’t take much more of this. Why did I have to be seeing it – why? With a sob, I managed not to shout out, Anything! Just stop hurting her! – and stepped into the breach between worlds.

I reached for the angelic energy field; it surged untamed around me. With the gate open, it was like standing in a howling wind tunnel – yet it was nothing like what Alex had described. The energy of the human world felt natural to me, and so did this.

I couldn’t take hold of it, though. It was too much – too big. With a gasp, I craned for my mother’s essence in the angels’ world and grabbed hold; felt her grounding me. And in my own world, there was only one person, wasn’t there? Even now. I reached for Alex and hung on tightly.

It strikes me that we don’t need to be on opposite sides, Raziel mused. You have something I want, you see. And I have something you want – your mother’s life. The perfect symbiotic relationship.

The churning energy calmed a little. I could sense patterns to it now: there were worlds within worlds here, power beyond belief. It felt as if I had to learn a new language in seconds. Even anchored, if I didn’t do this right, it would kill me.

What do you want from me? I asked to buy time as I frantically scanned the energy, looking for the key. Somewhere deep down, my soul was being kicked with jackboots. Mom…Mom…

Ah, good girl – you’re seeing sense, Raziel murmured. I do admire you, you know, Willow. There is much of me in you.

Just talk, I snapped.

You have the power to manipulate people’s energy, he said, all friendliness gone. I want that power. It’s rather inconvenient for us angels that humans are so damaged by our touch. We don’t want that to happen, you know.

Get to the point. Bracing myself, I took hold of the angelic energy; it was like grabbing a hurricane. I stifled a cry and clutched harder to the people I loved most – felt them holding me fast in both worlds.

I want you to manipulate the humans’ energy so that angels can feed without harming them. They’ll still adore us, but with no lasting damage. In return, I will spare your mother’s life – and your own.

I could feel his confidence that I’d do anything to save my mother. I stood caught between worlds as I took in her face with its dreamy smile – and thought of all the times I’d crouched beside her chair, talking gently to her, trying to bring her back to me. But some part of her still existed in the angels’ world. If Raziel spared her, I could contact her whenever I wanted.

I’d have a mother.

You’re tempted, aren’t you? Raziel said softly. He’d stopped feeding, though his angelic hands remained in Mom’s life force. It would be the best way, you know. You don’t want to commit genocide, Willow – I know you. This way, both angels and humans are happy. For we do make humans happy. No matter what you might think of us, our touch brings happiness.

A cold wind stirred the willow tree in both worlds. I stood shaking, my face damp with tears as the energy of two worlds surged around me.

Could he actually be right? What would happen if I took the angels away from everyone? Destroyed the only real hope humanity had ever known, even if it had been slowly killing them?