by Lou Morgan
“And that means I can’t love him?”
That stumped Alice. She opened her mouth and closed it before she could come up with anything at all. And even then, all she could manage was: “But he’s a bad man. As in: really bad. As in: he’s in league with the devil. Literally.”
“I can’t help that.”
“He won’t change.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Seriously?”
Florence shifted in her seat. “We’re not so different, you and me.”
“Yeah, we are. And this isn’t about me, is it?” The memory of a man – or someone she’d thought was a man – and how he had died flashed through Alice’s mind, but she brushed it aside. “I made a mistake. Maybe you have, too, but the difference is that I didn’t know any better. You did. You knew what Xaphan was. Is.”
“I do, Alice. And I can’t help that.”
“You think he’ll change? You’re going to sit there and tell me you honestly think he’ll wake up one morning and decide to be someone else?” Alice waited, but there was no answer from the other side of the screen. She could just about make out the outline of Florence’s face, silhouetted against the divider. Finally, the answer came.
“I don’t want him to be someone else. I just want him.”
“I’m sorry, Florence. But if that’s the truth, then you’re as damned as he is.” Alice swung herself up from the seat and around the outside of the booth to face Florence, who met her gaze with cool green eyes.
“What would you know, Alice? What do you know about me, or about him? What do you know about any of it? You think the angels are on your side? You think they care? What are you to them? You’re a pet. A tool. Nothing more. Things could have gone so differently, and you know it. An inch either way and you could be sitting here instead of me. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought it.” she said, lowering her gaze and glancing up at Alice from beneath her lashes. “Enjoy it, Alice. Enjoy it while it lasts, because things are changing.”
Alice had heard enough. She looked Florence up and down once more, and without another word, she walked away. Florence’s voice, raised now, followed her. She was shouting.
“At least I made my choice!”
MALLORY WAS BESIDE Xaphan’s makeshift cell, talking to Castor and Pollux. He had lowered his voice and his back was to her, but Alice could still hear snatches of their conversation.
“I mean it. I’m not happy about this. Not with your history,” he was saying to Castor.
“You want to go without me? Fine. I’ll keep an ear out for what Michael does to you. Someone’s bound to hear the story.”
“Michael isn’t my primary concern.”
“Maybe he should be, Mallory. Being around all those other Descendeds must have scrambled your brain, or you’d remember that Michael’s adopted a fairly strict ‘kill first, ask questions later, if at all’ policy recently.”
“Thank you, I’m aware of Michael’s tactics. What I’m more concerned about is what happens when we put you, your brother and Zadkiel in the same room. When was the last time that happened?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“Yes, I bloody do. When you were Earthbound. So you’ll forgive my reluctance to put my life – Vin’s life, Alice’s life – in your hands, all on your say-so.”
“Oh, piss off, Mallory. You’re one to talk.”
Alice had heard enough. She cleared her throat and their heads snapped round, the conversation stopping dead as soon as they realised she was listening. “Oh, come on. You’re going to tell me it’s fine to have your little chat in front of him” – she pointed at Xaphan, who was apparently snoozing – “and not me?”
“Because,” said Xaphan, not bothering to open his eyes, “everyone already knows this story. The brothers and the Archangel. The star-crossed lovers. The tragedy of their separation... oh.” He opened his eyes and smirked. “Everyone except you, I suppose.” He let out a short, cold laugh and shut his eyes again. “Oh, well.”
Mallory’s mouth set in a hard line, and he glared first at Xaphan, then at Castor. “Get them in the van.”
Castor nodded – but as he headed for Florence’s booth, Pollux muttered something under his breath and Castor rounded on him.
“You know what, Pol? Fuck you. Fuck you and every single Descended like you, you fucking prick.”
Pollux raised an eyebrow at his brother in response. None of this seemed to bother Mallory.
“Problem, gentlemen?” He was flipping a single bullet between his fingers, spinning it up and over and round again, but his eyes were fixed on Pollux. He tossed the bullet into the air, caught it and dropped it into his pocket. “I asked if we’re going to have a problem here. Because solving problems is something I’m very good at.”
“We’re fine.” Pollux hauled Xaphan out of his seat and pushed him towards the front of the church.
Once he’d gone, Mallory let out a long sigh. “Those two are a pain in the arse.”
“There’s a story there, isn’t there?” Alice asked, following him back around to the sacristy.
Mallory laughed. “Story? There’s an eight volume Russian fucking novel in there. And no. Not with a barge-pole,” he added. “We’re leaving. Now.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Brothers in Arms
“YOUR CARRIAGE, MY lady,” said Mallory as they walked to the front of the church and Alice spotted the van parked outside. It was black, and the words ‘Private ambulance’ were stencilled in big white letters on the back doors. Her heart sank. She’d seen that van before: it was one of Adriel’s.
And that was how they were getting to Michael. All of them.
In a coroner’s van.
IT WAS NOT a thought Alice relished, but she climbed in, put her head down and wrapped her arms around her chest, tucking herself into the corner, as far as possible from Xaphan and Florence. Castor immediately took it upon himself to act as their driver, complete with his police uniform and Zadkiel-given ability to mess with people’s heads. Mallory rode with him, and that left Alice, Vin, Pollux, Xaphan and Florence – still wearing their chains, which rattled at every bump in the road – in the darkened back of the van. For hours.
She had no idea how long they’d been in there, jostled and bruised and growing increasingly bad-tempered, when she finally started to doze. She was tired; more than tired, she was exhausted. As the world dropped away into darkness, she felt someone slide something soft behind her head. It smelled of beer and stale smoke, and – faintly – something else. Vin’s jacket.
IN THE FRONT of the van, Mallory had sunk as far into his seat as was possible and had his feet up on the dashboard in front of him, ignoring Castor’s protests. He had also retuned the radio – again, ignoring Castor’s protests.
“Usually, driver picks the music,” said Castor pointedly.
“Usually, driver doesn’t have a Descended with a pistol riding shotgun,” Mallory growled back at him.
“Point made.”
There was no noise from the back of the van, which both of them could only assume was a good thing, and it wasn’t long before Mallory retreated into his thoughts.
They drove. Through the night and into the dawn, they drove.
“MALLORY.”
Nothing.
“Mallory.”
“Hmm?”
“Mallory, now.”
“What?”
“Something’s...” Castor’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
“I feel it.” Mallory sat up, sliding one of his guns out from beneath his seat as he stared through the windscreen. “There’s one of them out there. Pull over...”
He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence.
There was someone standing in the road.
“Don’t...” said Mallory – but it was already too late, and Castor wrenched the wheel to the left.
ALICE HAD BEEN asleep, of that much she was sure. She had been asleep, and now she was bei
ng tipped and tilted and shaken around... Her head cracked against the metal of the wall of the van – or maybe it was the floor. Or the roof. They were rolling. The world turned over and over and over, and they were all thrown about, smashing into the unforgiving metal, into each other, in darkness.
And then it stopped, and there was only the sound of groaning steel and of the van’s engine.
“Alice?” Vin’s voice was shaky.
“I’m fine. I think.” Hers sounded just as bad.
There was a creak, and the sound of glass breaking from the front of the van... or possibly the back. She couldn’t tell any more.
“YOU ALRIGHT?” MALLORY peered at Castor, who had a streak of blood running down the side of his face. His hands were still wrapped around the steering wheel, and his eyes were closed, but he nodded in reply.
“Go,” was all he said.
Mallory’s door had taken the worst of the impact, and was bent in on itself... but it had held. It had held so well that it was never going to open again – but the window had cracked clean across, and it only took one sharp jab from his elbow to shatter it altogether. Broken glass scattered as Mallory hauled himself out through the frame and dropped down onto the grass verge. The figure was still standing in the middle of the road, holding something by its side. A rod, with a chain attached to it – and as Mallory straightened up, it let the chain drop. At the end, swinging like a malevolent pendulum, was a large, spiked metal ball.
It had been a while since Mallory had seen Phenex.
He could have done with it being a little longer.
ALICE FELT A hand on her sleeve in the darkness.
“That your arm?” asked Vin.
“Believe me,” she said, pulling herself into a sitting position, “if it wasn’t, you’d be the first to know.”
There was the sound of someone moving around, then a thud... then another thud, and the van filled with daylight. Alice blinked as her eyes tried to adjust to the sudden glare and her head pounded. Once she could focus, she realised that the thuds had been Pollux kicking the back door of the van open, and that he was now standing outside, looking back in at them. Florence had huddled as close to Xaphan as she could: both of them were pale and battered and Xaphan had a fresh cut above his eye... but there was something about the look on his face that Alice did not like. It was more than self-satisfied; it was almost triumphant.
And that was when she understood. This wasn’t an accident.
This was an attack.
MALLORY ROLLED HIS head first to one side, then the other. Phenex just stood and watched him, the lethal-looking spiked ball swinging gently back and forth beside his knee.
“So, do you want to make the morningstar joke, or shall I?” Mallory shouted at him, waving his gun at the Fallen’s weapon. Phenex sneered. He’d never had much of a sense of humour.
“Flail. It’s a flail. Not that it’ll make much difference what it’s called once I’ve caved in your head with it, will it?” The voice that answered him was gravelly.
Mallory rolled his eyes. “I thought it was funny,” he muttered, sizing up his opponent.
ALICE GROANED AS she straightened up, and – looking past Pollux and seeing Mallory facing down the figure in the road – moved to step around the open door.
“No, you don’t,” Pollux said, never taking his eyes off his prisoners. “That’s Phenex. And however happily you might have dealt with Murmur, Phenex is out of your league.”
“Out of my league?” She made sure every single word conveyed her displeasure.
“Leave this to us.” Pollux nodded towards the front of the van, where Castor had finally clambered out. He took one look at Mallory and then walked around the van to them, his baton already in his hand. Blood was smeared across his face like war-paint. He peered around the side of the door and into the van, then glanced up again – first at Mallory, then at Pollux. “Go. I’ve got them.”
Pollux didn’t hesitate. He shook out his wings and, opening them wide, swooped over to land behind Mallory on the road.
Castor rubbed at the blood on his face, then peered into his hand and grimaced. “Ouch.”
“Are you okay?” Alice stared at him, feeling her fingers prickle.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On this.”
Alice turned towards the figures on the road. She could see Mallory, and Pollux a step behind him – and the others. There were three Fallen there now, squaring up to the angels: the one Pollux had called Phenex, and two more behind him. All three were dressed in the same dark clothing and heavy boots – although only Phenex was built like a tank.
“Twelve, right?” she asked Vin, who wrinkled his nose in the direction of the Fallen.
“Phenex is. He’s... not very nice.”
“Out of my league. I got that, thanks.”
“No, really. Don’t take that the wrong way: Pollux isn’t just being a dick – not this time, anyway. Phenex is... yeah.” He blinked at the figure with the ball and chain. “You see that thing in his hand? It’s a flail. A big, heavy metal ball covered in big, sharp metal spikes and attached to a big, heavy metal chain...”
“I’m seeing a pattern.”
“Right. I’ve seen him take Descendeds’ heads off with that thing. Whole heads, clean off. Well. Not clean, exactly...”
“You do have a point, don’t you Vin?”
“My point? My point is you stay out of Phenex’s way.”
“And the other two?”
“Them?” He squinted at the two Fallen standing behind Phenex. “I couldn’t tell you from here. But if they’re hanging around with Phenex, that tells you something about how much they like hitting people with things. Oh, look.” He pointed to the Fallen on the left. “A baton. What a surprise.”
“Problem?” hissed Castor – spinning his own baton around his wrist, glaring at Vin.
“No problem.”
“Good.”
“I’m just going to...” Vin ticked his head towards Mallory and Pollux and stuffed his hands into his pockets, looking for all the world like he was going for an afternoon stroll as he stepped out from behind the shelter of the van and took his place beside the other angels.
“You have something of ours.” Phenex eyed Vin, Pollux and Mallory as they formed a line between him and the van. “We’ve come to collect.”
“The only thing you’re going to collect is a kicking, mate,” Vin shouted back.
Mallory raised an eyebrow at him. “Really, Vin? I mean, really? Nice of you to finally join us, by the way. Not like we’ve been waiting or anything.”
“I’m touched. Didn’t fancy taking them on without me?”
“Whatever gave you that idea?” A grin flickered across his face. “Let’s get this over with.”
The angels’ warnings to stay away from Phenex had stung Alice. After all, she could take care of herself, couldn’t she? But there had been an undertone to Vin’s voice; one which made her take him more seriously than she would usually have done – particularly given the worried expression on Castor’s usually calm face.
She saw Mallory raise his arm. She heard the gunshot, and another, and another.
Phenex dodged every one of them.
It wasn’t that he was fast – it was more than that. It was simply that by the time the bullet reached him, he already knew where it was going to be and had moved out of its way. A step to the right, a lean to the left and he might as well have been a ghost for all the good the bullets did. Mallory stopped shooting, and for a moment, Alice thought he was giving up... but then she saw that Vin had rolled up his sleeves; saw that one of his hands was open, saw the familiar grey mist that was his favourite weapon against the Fallen, powerful enough to turn the gates of hell itself into stone. If she hadn’t known better, she might almost have felt sorry for Phenex and his sidekicks.
But she did know better.
The mist tumbled from Vin’s palms. It had covered most of the
distance between the two factions, creeping along the ground towards the Fallen – and they had not noticed it.
Mallory’s gun was a distraction. And it was working.
They were all so busy watching Mallory miss that not even Phenex spotted the grey cloud reaching out for him until it was almost too late. Caught off-guard, he spun back – still holding his flail – and with his free hand threw the closest of the other two Fallen in front of him, straight into the clutches of the fog.
“So much for leading by example,” Alice said to Castor, who either didn’t hear or wasn’t listening. He was watching the unfortunate Fallen as he tried to drag himself out of the cloud, even as it wrapped itself tightly around him; even as first his feet and then his legs became heavier and heavier as they turned to stone.
Phenex stood behind him, just out of reach: his chest and shoulders heaving up and down. The roar that he let out made the hairs on the back of Alice’s neck stand up. As Vin closed his hand and the mist receded, the Fallen hefted his flail up to his shoulder – and even at that distance, Alice heard the links of the chain clank against one another. She got the point Pollux had been trying to make. If that thing hit any of them, it would wipe them out. If it hit her...
Pollux took advantage of the distraction; with a single step he was in the air, swooping towards Phenex’s remaining companion, snatching him up and beating his wings as they soared into the sky.
“Wait for it,” said Mallory, tipping his head on one side and raising a finger to his ear.
Alice forced herself to turn away from watching them, towards Castor. “Is he going to do what I think he’s going to do?”
“Depends.” Castor was busy examining his fingernails. He glanced up when the Fallen screamed as Pollux released him. “Was it that?”
The scream went on and on as the second of the Fallen tumbled back towards the ground, cutting off abruptly as he reached it.
Phenex had had enough of waiting. Raising his flail above his head, he started to swing it round and around and around, whirling it faster and faster overhead as Mallory reloaded.
