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Angel Fire, Page 72

L. A. Weatherly

Page 72

 

  I described my sculpture to Seb; he listened with interest. “Yes, I can imagine you doing that. ” Then he stroked his stubbled jaw, looking deep in thought. “You know, I think this means I was right,” he decided. “There is something you enjoyed. ”

  “Yeah, I guess,” I admitted. I glanced down at him with a smile, shaking my head. “How did you even know that?”

  He gave me a smugly arch look. “Ah, you see – I know you better than you know yourself. ”

  And he really did sometimes; that was the funny thing. In some ways, Seb knew me better than anyone in the world, even Alex. I rested my arms on my thighs; in the background was the never-ending drone of traffic. “Can I ask you something?” I said after a moment.

  “You know you can. ”

  I cleared my throat. I’d been dying to ask him this ever since we first met, but had felt embarrassed for some reason. “I was just wondering. . . if I could see your angel. ”

  I felt a leap of emotion from him. “I’ve been wanting to ask you that too,” he admitted. “Very much. ”

  Both of us were shy suddenly. My cheeks heated. I tucked back a short strand of my hair. “Um. . . so how should we—”

  “We’ll go at the same time,” suggested Seb, straightening up.

  I shifted down to the bench, and perched cross-legged, facing him. “Okay, on the count of three. ”

  He nodded. “One. . . two. . . three. ”

  I closed my eyes briefly on “three”, bringing my angel to me in a bright burst of energy. I merged with her, sent her flying gently from my human body to hover above me.

  I opened my eyes. Seb was sitting beside me. . . and above him was his angel.

  I stared with both my angel and human eyes. Seb’s angel looked just like him – lean and powerful, with loose curls and a high-cheekboned face – except that he was radiant with light. His wings stretched out over the table, stirring the night air. I could hardly breathe at the wonder of truly seeing another of my own kind for the first time; I thought I could never drink him in enough. From Seb’s face, I knew he felt exactly the same. More, even – he’d been longing for this for so many years.

  Seb’s angel wore jeans and a T-shirt, and suddenly I realized my angel could be clad in anything I wanted. I shifted my angelic robes to a vintage dress from the sixties that I’d always loved; saw Seb’s slight smile as he noticed. Hovering in my angel form, I took in Seb’s ethereal hands, and how strong and shining they looked. I longed to reach out my own hand – to see what it was like to touch another of my kind in this form too. Something held me back and, with an effort, I kept my arm where it was. It just seemed. . . too much, for now.

  On the bench, Seb’s eyes were steady on mine. They caught and held me; I felt almost dazed with wonder that somehow the two of us had found each other – that he had found me. My mouth went dry as I sensed again the true depth of his feelings for me, but I couldn’t have looked away from Seb just then to save my life. I was so aware of how much I wanted to send my angel self soaring with his, the two of us flying so far up that we’d find the stars beyond the city lights – but we both knew it wasn’t safe here.

  Finally, with a last long look at each other, our angels returned to our human bodies in a rush of gleaming wings, so that once more it appeared to be just Seb and me out in the dingy concrete courtyard together. Neither of us moved as we sat there, our gazes still locked. It felt. . . I can’t describe how it felt. We’d seen this innermost part of each other, shared our true selves.

  I saw Seb’s throat move. His eyes were bright. Without speaking, he reached for my hand; I was reaching for his in the same moment. Our fingers met and twined together, gripping each other hard. It didn’t even feel like we had a choice. Seb and I had to touch just then – had to somehow try to express what we’d just experienced. Letting out a ragged breath, I leaned against the firm warmth of his arm, our fingers still tightly linked.

  We sat that way for a long time, with the urban night humming gently with life around us.

  “SO HOW ARE WE GETTING into the Torre Mayor?” demanded Sam for the hundredth time. “’Cause with as long as Kara’s taking, I’m starting to think we’d better forget the security stuff. Hell, let’s just bust in there, do what we gotta do, and get out again!”

  They were returning from another hunt, at Alameda Central this time. The Metro was less crowded than usual, allowing the AKs to sit together in an almost-empty car. Alex groaned and dropped his head back against the window. “Sam, we’ve had this conversation,” he said. “Tell me again, why is it a good idea for us to go storming in there without any idea what we’re walking into? Oh yeah, I forgot – we’re in a Rambo movie. ”

  “Well, we can’t just keep waiting for Kara to get the goddamn code,” grumbled Sam. He sat sprawled back in his seat: a large, disgruntled Texan. “The Council’ll be gone before she gets it at this rate. ”

  Alex didn’t answer, fully aware that if worst came to worst, they’d have to make an attempt on the Council anyway. He sighed, massaging his eyes. The angels in the city were definitely on the alert now. There weren’t nearly as many out feeding as there’d been just a couple of weeks ago, and those that were seemed to be feeding somewhat perfunctorily; were less inclined to savour their prey. Even so, the team had managed to bring down four today – and three of them had blasted straight back at him. Distantly, Alex wondered what kind of damage he was taking from all the angel fallout lately. Martin, his father, used to be riddled with it sometimes.

  To Alex’s side, Liz and Trish were talking in excited, low voices about the hunt; Wesley and Brendan sat across from them, joining in occasionally. Wesley in particular looked psyched, almost smiling for a change – he’d gotten two of the creatures. The team wasn’t doing badly; they really weren’t. But they had less than a week to go now.

  “You still haven’t told me what the plan is,” observed Sam, tapping his fingers on his leg.

  “No kidding,” said Alex shortly. He had no intention of telling Sam or anyone else until he had to; morale would plummet. Well, maybe not Sam’s morale. But the sane members of the team’s, definitely.

  He’d spent days scoping out the Torre Mayor’s deliveries entrance while pretending to be fiddling with the Shadow’s engine in a nearby parking lot – and by now, he thought he had a pretty solid plan for how he could get the team in there and up the service elevator. Juan’s white van would be perfect; half the deliveries came in white vans. Though the service elevator would be sure to have that top floor locked off too, they could reach the floor below, then take the stairwell, where he’d shoot out the security cameras immediately. The sudden blank screens in the security office would no doubt bring someone to check the cause within minutes, but they’d be in by then – it would take no time at all to get up the stairs and shoot the door open with a silenced pistol. If they could get to the Council quickly after that, Alex thought their chances of getting in and out alive weren’t terrible. It was conceivable that they could get down in the main elevator and be out the front door before anyone even figured out what had happened – especially in the chaos of all the angels suddenly vanishing.