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Angel Fire

L. A. Weatherly

Page 114

 

  The explosion as the last of the First Formed died was silent, but Alex felt it through every inch of him, and ducked his head against the blast. It roared past, a vortex of gut-wrenching sensation that tore at his skin and hair. A shudder seemed to pass through the world – and then calmness fell. When he finally looked up, only twinkling lights remained, glinting around the room like fireflies on a summer night.

  Alex lay, breathing hard, aware that the others had been thrown to the floor, too. Bizarrely, only minutes had passed since they’d entered the room. In the sudden silence, he could still hear the string quartet playing Mozart.

  Willow – was Willow okay? He scrambled to his feet. Against the wall, he could see a weak-looking Seb sitting up now, gripping her hands and talking softly to her; her eyelids fluttered. Alex’s shoulders sagged. His relief was matched only by the longing to go to her himself.

  Sam had risen also, his broad face bruised and swollen. “Alex. . . look,” he said, staring at the floor.

  Raziel had gone still.

  Alex’s heart started beating painfully fast as he stared down at Raziel’s body – the moist blooms of darkness on his purple shirt; the crisp black hair with its widow’s peak. He heard Willow’s voice again: It might be that killing the Council really does kill all the angels – that’s what most of them think will happen.

  “I. . . I think maybe we’ve done it,” whispered Sam in a choked voice. “I think maybe we’ve really done it. ”

  Kara was just getting up, looking shaken. Suddenly Alex did a double take around the room, his skin prickling with alarm. Wait a minute, where were Trish and Wesley? No, he wasn’t imagining things – they were both gone.

  The moment he registered it, their shouts drifted in from the reception: “They’ve just killed the Council! They’ve killed all the angels!”

  Oh, Christ. He and Kara moved at the same time, leaping for the door and banging it shut. There was another exit from the room; hopefully they’d get a chance to use it. Sam joined them. “Grab the table!” ordered Alex. Gripping the heavy wooden table, they dragged it in front of the door as the sound of shouts started heading their way. He and Sam threw a few of the chairs on top for good measure; it would hold them for a few minutes, at least.

  A faint rumble shook the building.

  It came and went in a second. Kara breathed in between her teeth, and Alex knew she’d felt it too: the sense of something having come loose in the world. “Oh my god,” she whispered, staring at him. He saw the fear in her eyes. “You were right, weren’t you?”

  There was no time. Brendan was struggling to his feet, wincing on his injured leg; Liz stood still, apparently dazed. Seb staggered as he rose, his arms around a sagging Willow.

  “Okay, you guys, move,” barked Alex as a pounding started up on the door. “Go out the other door but don’t turn left; it’s a dead end. We’re taking the stairwell. Kara, you help Brendan; Sam, help Liz but make sure she doesn’t have angel burn first. If anyone gets separated, don’t hang around – just get out of here. Now!”

  As the others leaped into action, Alex rushed over to Seb and Willow. “Is she okay?” Seb had lifted her into his arms; she lay slumped against his shoulder with her arms around his neck, her cheeks white.

  Seb nodded. “She’s just passed out, I think. ” He still looked pale himself. As he shifted his grip on Willow, Alex saw how unsteady he was.

  “Give her to me, you can hardly stand,” he said. The table shuddered as people banged on the door, shouting. The others were all gone now – Liz must be okay.

  “I’m fine,” said Seb with obvious effort. He stumbled slightly as he started for the door.

  “You are not fine,” snapped Alex. “Do you want her to die?” He took Willow from him just as Seb’s knees buckled. She clung to Alex with a small moan, not seeming to notice it was him. Alex held her tightly and put his other arm around Seb; he seemed ready to pass out now too. “Come on, hurry—”

  “Must you really go so soon?” enquired a low, silky voice.

  Alex whirled. Raziel was on his feet, wan but very much alive as he pointed a pistol towards them. “You know, I’m rather going to enjoy this,” he confided. “Isn’t it nice when the tables are turned?”

  Alex stared at him dumbly as the shouting outside the door intensified. Or maybe only the Council will die. No. No.

  The sense of déjà vu from the cathedral in Denver was almost overwhelming. Though he knew it wouldn’t do any good with Raziel in his human form, Alex took his arm from around Seb and shot anyway. It didn’t even slow Raziel down this time. With a sneer, he levelled the gun at Alex’s head and pulled the trigger. There was an empty click.

  The angel stared down at the gun in furious disbelief. . . and then shifted to his ethereal form and soared from the room.

  Alex cursed, but couldn’t get him now. Clutching Willow to him, he grabbed hold of the drooping Seb again, hauling him into the back hallway. The shouts sounded louder out here – part of the mob must be coming around from the other direction. “Come on,” he ground out to Seb, half-carrying him down the corridor. “I am not going to die because of you. You don’t get to die either – I promised to kill you, remember? Move. ”

  Seb seemed to rouse himself by sheer force of will. “Yes, I remember,” he murmured. He pulled from Alex’s grip, managing to break into an exhausted run.

  Willow had her arms weakly around Alex’s neck; her hair smelled just like it always had. I’m getting you out of here, babe; I won’t let anything else hurt you, thought Alex as they ran down the corridor. Frenzied shouts sounded behind him; doors banging open as people searched for them.

  Sam and Liz came rushing back from the other direction. “They’ve cut us off; the stairwell’s blocked,” gasped Liz. “There’s a whole crowd there, waiting for us. ”

  “Where are Kara and Brendan?” demanded Alex.

  “I don’t know; they were ahead of us! They must have gotten through. ” Sam scraped a nervous hand over his blond spikes. “The elevators are blocked, too. Oh, man, what now? Do we try to shoot our way through?”

  There was a door directly to his left; Alex cast frantically through his mind, but couldn’t remember where it led. Just then there was another rumble – overhead, the light fixtures swayed. It decided him, somehow.

  “In here,” he said, throwing the door open. Stairs, leading up. Up? thought Alex as they barrelled up them. We’re already on the highest floor.

  A locked door waited at the top of the stairs. “Stand back,” said Sam, taking aim. He shot; there was the whine of bullet hitting metal as the bolt gave way. He threw the door open and they poured through.

  Open sky. Wind, whipping at their clothes. “Oh, Christ,” whispered Alex, still clutching Willow to his chest.

  “Yeah, that about sums it up,” said Sam tightly. Liz stared around them helplessly; her mouth opened and then closed again. Seb let out a curse in Spanish, glancing back at the stairs – where Alex could now hear the sound of shouts coming up. The crowd had found them.

  And they were up on the helipad.

  ALEX AND I HAD ALWAYS wondered what would happen if my angel self was injured. As it turned out, it felt like being smashed over the head with a hammer. With every bullet my angel took, the force of it slammed through my skull until I thought it was going to splinter. During the attack, I sat slumped against the wall, fists tight as I somehow clung to consciousness, focusing all my attention on my angel as she flew. The Council saw who I was, of course, but were too distracted to react to either me or Seb. I could sense their utter shock over what had happened; their impotent rage. In over three millennia, no one had ever dared to attack them.