Angel Fire (48 page)

Willow glanced at Seb. Her green eyes looked larger than usual, accented with eyeliner. “This really isn’t good,” she whispered to him, and he knew she meant the seething auras, rather than the angels on the hunt. Like him, she had to be picking up on the vibes of the rally too – the organized fury surging all around them.

“It’ll be all right,” he muttered back.

“Did we know this was happening?” demanded Sam, frowning at the scene.

Seb rolled his eyes. Sam had been watching it on the news with the others when he and Willow returned to the house the previous day. “Yes, we knew,” said Alex briefly, leading the way towards the cathedral. “It doesn’t affect us.”

Except that it did.

As they neared the Catedral de los Ángeles, they could see slow-moving lines snaking out the entrance; stretching all the way down to the tabernacle. “That doesn’t look right – the doors are supposed to be open by now,” said Kara. “Alex, I’m just going to go and check.” Before he could respond, Kara was running off, her long braided wig bouncing down her back.

Alex glanced towards the cathedral with a frown. “Here, everyone,” he said. He was carrying a large plastic bag; he dipped into it, passing out angel wings. As he handed a pair to Seb, their eyes met – Seb could see Alex’s controlled dislike of him. The feeling was mutual.

Alex gave Willow a pair of lavender wings, avoiding her gaze. Willow avoided his too, accepting the wings silently. She had on a short black skirt and top she’d borrowed from Liz, with a jean jacket over it and a pair of unfamiliar heeled sandals that gave her a long-legged look. Seb was in a pair of grey trousers and a crisp white shirt he’d borrowed from Wesley. The others were dressed similarly; Alex had wanted them to blend in with the churchgoing crowd as much as possible. While it grated to take orders from him, Seb had to admit Alex was good at what he did. It was a job he himself would have had no desire to take on.

“Are these straight?” Willow asked him in an undertone. She presented him with her back, where the lavender wings hung askew. Seb straightened them for her, adjusting an elastic strap where it had twisted on her shoulder and trying to ignore how the short skirt showed off her figure. Out of the corner of his vision he saw Alex watching them, and held back a snort. If Alex was jealous, it was his own stupid fault. Willow would never normally have asked for Seb’s help instead of Alex’s own.

“They’re straight now,” he told her.
You look beautiful,
he managed not to add.

He’d come so close to saying the words that Willow caught them easily; her cheeks coloured. “Thanks,” she said, and he knew it was for the compliment too. “Yours are fine,” she added, glancing at his white wings.

Kara came sprinting back. “Alex, it’s bad,” she panted. “There’s been a security alert at the cathedral; they’re worried about a terrorist attack with the Crusaders rally going on. They’ve installed a metal detector.”

“
What?
” Alex’s head jerked towards the cathedral doors. He swore under his breath.

Seb went still, thinking of the switchblade in his pocket. He was carrying a gun too – the holster felt strange under his waistband – but knew he’d have been likelier to go for his blade in case of trouble.

“So...what does this mean?” asked Liz finally.

“It means we’ll take our guns off and go in anyway, right?” offered Brendan.

Alex’s frustration was almost palpable. “What good would that do? If there’s any trouble, we need to be able to shoot.
Damn
it.” He shoved both hands through his hair. “We can’t put it off,” he muttered to himself, staring at the line of people. “The security code will change tomorrow...”

“We might not need the code,” pointed out Willow, her voice cool.

“Yes, but you might,” he gritted out. “We can’t take the chance; the Council will be gone in just four days.” He blew out a breath. “Okay,” he said finally. “We’re going to have to wait outside the doors for you. Both of you, give Kara your weapons. Willow, hand me your cellphone.”

After covertly handing Kara her gun, Willow dug in her jean-jacket pocket for her phone, her mouth tight – Seb knew without trying that she was irritated at having orders snapped at her. Keeping his back to the crowd, he drew out his own gun and switchblade, passing them to Kara. She tucked them away wordlessly in her bag. Her opinion of him was so obvious that Seb couldn’t resist smiling and saying, “You won’t steal my blade, will you?”

Her brown eyes turned even chillier. “Don’t worry.
I’m
not the one who steals things.”

Across the square, the sound of chanting was still going strong, pounding through the air. Alex fiddled with Willow’s cell, punching buttons on it. As Seb glanced at him, the moment froze.

Though he could see auras without trying, he didn’t check out each one he encountered in detail; it would have been information overload. But the day before, as Alex had left the range to go upstairs, Seb had thought he’d seen something strange in his aura’s blue and gold hues. He’d dismissed it as a trick of the light – yet now, in the pure, slanting sunlight of late afternoon, he was seeing it again.

Alex’s aura was damaged.

S
EB STARED AT THE COLOURS
of Alex’s life force. He’d never seen anything like this before. He’d encountered thousands of auras with angel burn in his life – was all too familiar with the grey, sickly look it caused, with the aura’s natural colours trying to regain themselves through the pallor. This was similar, but different: the colours themselves looked faded. The blue – which Seb was sure had been a rich ocean-blue when he’d first met Alex – now looked dull and greyish; the gold almost tarnished, with faint black spots.

The damage looked as if it had been caused by angels...and yet not.

Willow’s question barrelled back to him:
Do we cause angel burn to humans?

It wasn’t something Seb had noticed; certainly none of the girls he’d ever been involved with had shown anything like this. But then his chest went cold as it hit him. He’d never been with a girl for any length of time, had he? He’d only had flings; a day or two at most. Willow had been with Alex for months.

Only seconds had passed. Alex handed the phone back to Willow. “Here – I’ve put my number on speed dial. Keep it in your pocket; we’ll be right outside once the service starts. If there’s any trouble, just hit the
call
button and we’ll get in there somehow.”

Seb tore his gaze away, his thoughts spinning as he remembered Alex’s migraines, his constant headaches, and thought of the dozens of ominous issues those things could mean. His first and main concern was for Willow. If this was what he thought, it was going to kill her to find out she’d been hurting Alex.

Willow hesitated as she took the phone, scanning Alex’s face as if searching for a hint of softness. There was none. She slipped the phone into her jacket pocket, her made-up face abruptly aloof.

“Yes, all right,” she said.

She glanced down, buttoning her jacket. And then Seb saw the look she’d been waiting for flicker across Alex’s features, turning them young and vulnerable – and he knew Alex was in as much torment as she was, but too stubborn to admit it.

Willow cleared her throat. “So I guess we’d better go get a place in line,” she said. The rest of the team was standing a little apart now, talking among themselves; Seb could feel Sam’s disappointment in particular that they weren’t going in.

Alex’s face was expressionless again. “Yeah, all right. We can’t wait with you; it would look suspicious if we peeled off before we hit the metal detectors. Be careful, okay? We’ll be right outside.” Though he sounded sincere, he also sounded like he was talking to any other member of his team, and Seb longed to take a swing at him.
Just apologize, you stupid jerk
.

Except that it was too late for that now, wasn’t it? Studying Alex’s aura again, Seb could see more clearly than ever that he hadn’t been mistaken. His throat felt like sand. How exactly was he supposed to tell Willow this?

She nodded stiffly at Alex’s words; he could feel the depth of her hurt that he wasn’t backing down even now. “Seb, are you ready?” She turned towards him – and her expression slackened in surprise as she picked up on his anxiety.

“Yes, I’m ready,” he said, burying his thoughts as best he could. His gaze met Alex’s. A fierce look flashed in the blue-grey eyes, and Seb knew Alex was telling him to take care of Willow, to keep her safe in case some rabid Church member recognized her and raised the alarm. As if he really had to be told that.

“Okay, you’ve both got your tickets – and you know the code if you need it, right?” said Alex out loud.

Seb nodded; he and Willow had both memorized it. “Don’t worry,” he replied evenly. And added in his head,
Believe me,
hombre,
I’m not keeping her safe for you – but I’ll keep her safe with my life
.

He and Willow started across the uneven expanse of the square; she was taller than usual in her heels as she glanced at him worriedly. “Seb, what’s wrong?”

“I’ll tell you later,” he said.

“But—”

He heard the strain in his own voice. “Please,
querida
. I’ll tell you later, I promise.”

Willow wavered, searching his face, and finally nodded. “Okay.”

The line moved slowly once they joined it, but everyone seemed cheerful, chatting happily about the angels and how exciting it was to be going to such an important service. He and Willow fitted right in with their satiny angel wings. After a while, they could see the stairs that led down to the cathedral entrance, with the rectangular shape of the metal detector set up at the bottom of them.

“I’m relieved to finally be doing something, you know,” said Willow in a low voice. Her gaze was fixed on the metal detector and the guards flanking it either side as people shuffled through, showing their tickets. “I’ve hated,
hated
, having to just sit at home while all this is going on.”

Her aura, like his, appeared grey and listless. Seb wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t noticed Alex’s. Her natural psychic focus just wasn’t centred on auras; she didn’t tend to bring them into view unless she thought there was a reason to. And in Alex’s case, why would she? Seb had told her himself that she wasn’t causing him any harm.

Seb cleared his throat. “Yes, I know how much you’ve hated staying at home.”

At his non-committal tone, Willow smiled. “Let me guess, you wish I was still there. Honestly, you’re as bad as—” Catching herself, she broke off with a sudden wince, her expression pained.

Seb couldn’t help himself; he put his arm around her, squeezing her shoulders as he drew her against his side.
It’ll be all right, mi amorcito,
he wanted to say. But he didn’t really see how it could be, now. Oh god, this was going to destroy her. And what did it do to Seb’s own hopes? True, it probably meant Willow would never get back together with Alex, but for it to happen like this – when she was still in love with him; when she knew she’d hurt him with her touch – she’d never get over him then. Never.

Willow was gazing up at him, her expression full of dread. “You’re thinking about...whatever it is again,” she said softly. She swallowed. “It’s something to do with me and Alex, isn’t it?”

He was saved from answering. Just as they reached the top of the stairs, there was a squeal and a flurry of angel wings. Three pretty girls raced up to them. “Seb!
Bonsoir!
” exclaimed the one with dark hair. Before Seb quite knew what was happening, she was kissing him on both cheeks; he reciprocated automatically. The other two girls followed suit. Willow blinked, looking taken aback by the social kisses.

“You left the hostel!” laughed the dark-haired girl in French, her tone mock-chiding. Céline, that was her name. “None of us knew where you were; one day you just vanished.” Her gaze went to Willow, taking her in curiously.

Seb was acutely conscious that the three girls were devouts, and had almost certainly seen Willow’s photo on the news, or the Church of Angels website. “
Oui
, I met my girlfriend,” he said, his arm still around Willow’s shoulders. “Maria.” It was the first name that came to mind. In English, he said, “Maria, this is Céline, and – I’m sorry,” he said to the blonde. “Is it Nicole?”

The girl
tsk
ed and shook her sleek head; she looked pale and too thin. “Ah, you see, he forgets all about us once he has you,” she teased, glancing at Willow. “Maria,
this
is Nicole” – she indicated the third girl, a tall redhead – “and I am Adèle.”

“Hi,” said Willow, offering her hand to them.

They started moving down the stairs; to the irritation of the people behind them, the trio showed no signs of leaving. Céline was still gazing at Willow. “You look so familiar,” she said suddenly. “Are you an actress?”

Seb’s muscles went tight as Willow tried to smile. “No, but everyone says that,” she said. “I think I must look like someone.”

“So this is where you girls ran off to – I thought you’d abandoned me,” said a cheerful American voice. A guy with floppy brown hair had come up behind them. Mike. He caught sight of Seb and his face burst into a grin as he slapped his shoulder. “Seb! God, man, where have you been?”