Angel Fever

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Angel Fever Page 80

by L. A. Weatherly

Page 80

 

  Nina sat up. “What about you?”

  “I’ve got to get some fresh air. Maybe try scanning some more. ”

  “But it’s freezing out!”

  “I know, but I’ve got to do something. And, Nina, don’t you see? This might be the last night you and Jonah have. ” I grabbed my parka – and before Nina could protest any more, I squeezed her hand tightly and left.

  The school playground was ghostly in the moonlight. As I sat in one of the swings, I nudged at the frosty ground with my toe, twirling slightly in place.

  Though I was cold through, I didn’t get up. Scanning the town mentally hadn’t helped. Neither had trying to grasp hold of everyone’s auras again, though I’d tried it until my mind felt like a damp rag.

  Now there was nothing left that I could attempt before the attack came. And it would be soon now; I could feel it.

  We’re all going to die, I thought.

  I looked up, imagining the sky covered in angels with Raziel at their head. If I die, he will too, I vowed to myself. Without the gate, our last chance to defeat the angels might be gone – but I’d manage that much, at least.

  My spine was straight, but I felt so tired: a weariness that had nothing to do with lack of sleep. I was just about to go help with the fortifications again when I heard footsteps. I looked up in surprise.

  Alex appeared out of the shadows and stood in front of me, hands buried in his jacket pockets. “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi,” I said back after a pause.

  Alex came and sat down in the next swing. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You didn’t tell me about the base,” he said quietly.

  His face in the moonlight was just as I’d imagined a thousand times. What I’d never imagined was this feeling inside of myself.

  I cleared my throat. “No. I thought it’d be better to wait until after whatever happens. ”

  Alex sighed and dropped his hand. “Yeah…you were probably right. Willow, look, I—” He broke off, as if thinking better of it. “Have you been out here scanning?” he asked at last.

  Why was I yearning for his arms around me even now? “Yes,” I admitted. “Not that it’s made any difference. ”

  He shook his head a little as he studied me. “God, you look so much like your mother,” he murmured. “Except you’re even more beautiful. ” Then his forehead creased. “Wait a minute,” he said slowly. “Your mother. I wonder—”

  At the feel of his sudden excitement, my own pulse leaped. “What?”

  He leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Willow, listen! There was a faint energy to your mother, and when I left the angels’ world, I held her hands – kissed her cheek. So maybe if you try contacting her again, I could be a link for you to reach her. ”

  I recalled the dim, heart-wrenching sense of her energy that I’d picked up from reading Alex. “But how would that work?” I said blankly. “It was you touching her, not me. And she was fading already by then—”

  “Just try it! What have we got to lose?” He held his hand out to me, palm up – and I was flung back to the day we’d first met. He’d offered me his hand in just that same way.

  I nodded stiffly. “All right. ” As I turned towards Alex, the swing’s chains twisted above me. I took his hand – and pushed my emotions away.

  Reaching out, I found my mother’s energy quickly but knew I couldn’t communicate: this was the mother in my own world. Concentrating on Alex’s hand – on the same warm skin that had touched some forgotten essence of her – I reached even further.

  Mom? Are you there somewhere?

  I asked the question over and over. The minutes passed. Just as I was ready to give up, suddenly the sense swept over me that I was travelling someplace both very far and very near. Oh god, she was so close – closer than I ever could have imagined.

  Willow?

  It was more sensation than word. But she was there – she knew me. The same elation rushed in that I’d felt as a little girl, on those rare, glorious days when my mother had actually seen me.

  “Mom,” I whispered. I felt Alex’s hand tighten in mine.

  Words didn’t seem possible across the worlds; it didn’t matter. My energy was merging with my mother’s as completely as Seb’s and mine did sometimes. I sat frozen in wonder as images came: me when I was little, before she’d drifted away completely. And such an overwhelming sense of love. For this one moment, I hadn’t lost my mother at all: she was still there, just like I’d always longed for.

  I wanted it to last for ever – knew we didn’t have time. Mom, where’s the gate into the angels’ world? I thought. Please, we have to know!

  I sensed her straining to tell me. Another image: shifting green curtains, stirred by the wind. I frowned in confusion.

  I don’t understand, I thought. Is it in someone’s house? Whose?

  But already, she was starting to fade – just like in the dream I’d had on the journey here. “No!” I cried in alarm. “Oh, Mom, wait – please don’t go—”

  It was as if we were clinging to each other in a windstorm, pulled apart inch by inch. A last sense of love – of frustration – and she was gone.

  “Mom,” I whispered raggedly. I opened my eyes; realized my cheeks were damp with tears. “We – we communicated,” I said, swiping at them with my hand. “She tried to tell me, but I couldn’t…” I trailed off as my throat tightened. Mom.

  Alex drew me towards him, swing and all; he wrapped his arms around me tight. A sob escaped me. “She knew who I was,” I choked out against his chest. “Oh god, Alex, she really knew who I was…”

  “I know,” he whispered into my hair. “She loves you so much – she wanted to know all about you. ”

  I shut my eyes hard and for a moment just pressed close to him, listening to the quiet thudding of both our hearts – and then I remembered lying on the scratchy carpet of our bedroom, crying until there were no tears left.

  It felt as if I’d been punched. I winced and drew back.

  “Willow, no, stop – please don’t pull away. ” Alex clutched my hands. “Listen to me,” he said intensely. “I get it, okay? I swear to you, I get it. What you went through—” His Adam’s apple moved; his eyes were suddenly bright as he touched my hair. “I can never make it up to you. Never, no matter what I do. I’m sorry – oh Christ, I am so sorry. But please don’t push me away. ”

  “Don’t, just – don’t. ” I pressed my fingers against suddenly pounding temples. “I told you I can’t do this now, Alex. ”

  His voice was steady. “The attack could come any time. We could die with this still between us – is that what you want?”

  And suddenly the rage that had been building for three days burst through like a tsunami.

  My head snapped up. “You are kidding me,” I said. “Are you really sitting there lecturing me on things I should do before I die? You? I suppose you had a – a checklist, didn’t you, before you took off?”

  “Willow—”

  “Where on the list was telling me I was your life? Number three, maybe? Because one was obviously lying to me, and two must have been to remember to pack your gun—”

 

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