Angel's Breath (Fallen Angels - Book 2) (22 page)

I made my way across the field on foot—if I flew now, anyone looking in my direction from the house would see the movement—and used the trees lining the driveway to hide behind as I approached.

When I felt that electric tug deep in my gut, I knew Darcy was close.

Keeping an eye out for movement, I went around the back of the house and saw there were two basement windows on that side.

As quietly as I could, being careful not to throw a shadow across the window, I crept closer and peered inside.

At first, I couldn’t see anything. The window itself was dirty, and the sun was still shining bright enough that I had difficulty seeing through the glass.

Moving a few degrees to one side, I strained my eyes, and jerked back suddenly when I spotted movement.

Holding my breath, I leaned close again. By then, the sun had shifted position enough that the window was in shadow. Someone turned on a dim light in the basement, and then I saw Darcy.

She was sitting cross-legged on the ground, with her head slumped forward. The leather harness kept her arms tight to her sides and her hands in a praying position. A short length of chain attached to the collar of the harness was looped around one of the metal support beams running from the basement floor to the ceiling.

Darcy must have sensed me there, and she looked up as if someone had called her name from across a crowded room. Her eyes spotted me in the window, and then she looked away quickly.

That movement from before happened again, and I pulled myself away from the window as Al’s face appeared, looking out to see what had caused Darcy’s reaction.

He said something, but it was too muffled for me to hear, and it was only after several more seconds that he gave up his search and moved away from the window.

I had no idea where David was, but I had to assume he was still feeling the effects from when Stacy crashed into him and knocked him into the plane’s window. He could be lying down on a living-room sofa or an upstairs bed.

A dozen plans raced through my mind, each more impossible than the last. I wasn’t the hero type, and I wasn’t a killer. As a matter of fact, I wasn’t very good in a fight.

The one thing I knew for certain, though, was that if I was spotted by Al, he would shoot me on sight. With my death, the fallen angel would jump to the nearest host in my bloodline: David.

I didn’t think I had the resolve to go into the house with the intention of killing Al, Nick or David.

The creature inside me might not have any reservations in doing whatever it had to do, but I vowed that I would not let
it
bear any influence on my actions. There had to be a way to get Darcy out of there without resorting to murder.

I had to create a distraction. I could use the power of the elements to call down a tornado and rip the other barns to shreds. Darcy’s captors would go out to investigate, and I could sneak in.

But would they?
I asked myself. If they didn’t fall for it, then I would have only succeeded in revealing myself. I dismissed the idea as too risky.

If I used my elemental power like that, they would know immediately that I was there. And even if I did use enough force to take out all three at the same time, I risked harming Darcy as well.

I had to be more subtle than that. After thinking furiously, I came up with a plan.

I waited with my back against the wall of the house until the sun set completely behind the trees. The light sensors tripped the outdoor floodlights, and I stood stock still, pressed as close to the house as I could.

Taking a deep breath to focus myself, I concentrated on the generator hut a few dozen feet away; more specifically, on the gas line leading from the fuel tank beside the hut.

Subtle,
I reminded myself. They couldn’t suspect I had any part in the distraction.

I imagined the air around the gas line thickening in a ring around the heavy plastic tube. I focused as much air pressure as I could, pinching the line until it was closed.

With the flow of gas interrupted, the generator sputtered a few times, and then died.

The floodlights faded to a dull yellow color, and then went out completely. The house lights went off a moment later.

With my enhanced sight, I could see in the dark almost as well as a normal person could see in daylight. I looked inside the window.

Al pulled a long flashlight off a shelf nearby and flicked it on. He made a sour face as he stepped toward the stairs. “Nick, check the generator!” he called as he headed up the stairs.

I heard the front door swing open and a flashlight beam play over the generator hut as Nick stepped outside and headed toward the building to investigate.

The moment Al disappeared up the stairs I pushed at the bottom of the window with the heel of my hand. If I used the power with the window between us, the pressure would shatter the window, and the noise would bring Al back right away. I had to be as quiet as I could.

The window didn’t budge, and I felt my stomach tighten in panic. I flipped myself around and used the heel of my foot, pushing as hard as I could. I heard a scraping sound, but when I looked, I saw I had only moved the window a fraction of an inch.

Any moment, Nick would reach the hut and check the gas line. If I didn’t release the pressure on the line before he got there, he would know it wasn’t a normal interruption.

Desperate, I kicked the window harder, and it made a screeching sound as it opened. Silently cheering, I let my legs slide inside the building and, holding on to the frame around the window, wiggled the rest of the way in.

A flash of light erupted from the direction of the stairs. Al had returned of his own accord. He jerked his gun out of his holster with his free hand and fired at me without a moment’s hesitation.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I think it
was a combination of my own reaction to pull away and the elemental power nudging the bullet slightly out of its trajectory, but under any other circumstances, Al’s shot would have been a bullseye.

My concentration on the gas line broke, and the generator kicked in. The lights in the basement flickered back on, and I think that distracted Al from firing a second shot right away.

It was long enough that the fallen angel inside me surged up. I wasn’t going to let Al get that second shot off. The last thing I wanted was to have to deflect another bullet.

Before Al could aim and pull the trigger, I sent a mass of air at him, slamming him back against the cement wall. The force of the impact made him drop his gun and the flashlight.

Keeping the air in the basement hurtling at him at gale-force speeds, I walked forward.

The skin on Al’s face began to rip with the pressure, and he screamed.

“Richard! No!” It was Darcy. At first, I ignored it, but she continued to yell. “Don’t do it. It’s not worth it. This is not you. Control it!”

My anger was so great I wanted nothing more than to continue to pound on Al with the wind until it crushed him.

Already his screams had turned to whimpering, and his eyes began to lose focus. He was near unconsciousness.

Darcy was right; now that I had stopped him, I didn’t need to kill him. I couldn’t let the thing inside me rule my emotions.

With a thought, I stopped my elemental attack, and Al fell to the floor. He moaned, and then to my surprise, reached out for his gun. Still stunned from the attack, his movements were slow enough that I had time to pick up his flashlight.

It was with no small satisfaction that I swung it at the back of his head, connecting hard enough to snap the flashlight in half.

“How do you like it ‘my way’?” I said to Al’s unconscious body, remembering his words that morning when he hit me with the wrench.

“Quick,” Darcy said. “Get me out of this stupid thing.”

Racing to her, I pulled the rosary over her head and tossed it in the corner.

I could feel the surge as Darcy’s power flared, turning her harness to ash. Backing away briefly from the sudden heat, I reached my hand out to help her to her feet.

“I thought you were dead,” she said. “How did you survive the fall? Did Stacy…?”

“I caught her,” I said. “I made a cushion of air to slow us down. I rushed her to the hospital in Tacoma, but I don’t know if I got her there in time.” I felt a lump in my throat. “I couldn’t stay; they called security because of the gunshot wound.”

“I’m sure she’ll pull through.” Darcy put a hand on my arm.

I nodded and put on a brave face.

“How do we get out of here?” Darcy asked, taking a step toward the stairs.

When she noticed I wasn’t following, she turned around and gave me a puzzled look.

“We have to stop David,” I said. “If we don’t do it now, we may not have another chance.”

Darcy frowned. “What do you mean, ‘stop him’?”

I held her gaze. “He’ll just keep coming after me. If he can’t find me, he’ll use Stacy. I can’t let anything happen to her. I have to find David and end it.”

“No,” she said, her voice dropping to a low note. “You can’t go down that path. Trust me; I’ve been there. It will eat you up from the inside.”

“I already have more guilt than I can stand.”

Darcy grabbed me by the shoulders. “It’s not the same. Accidents, self-defense; those are terrible. I get that. But murder is something on a whole other level. There’s no turning back. There has to be another way.”

“There is no other way,” I said.

“You don’t know that.” Darcy gave me a pleading look. I wanted to believe her; I didn’t want to have to kill anyone.

“I’ve let everyone down in my life. My mother and Chuck both paid the price. I can’t let anything happen to Stace.”

“Listen,” Darcy said. “David can’t hurt you or Stacy if he can’t find you. We’ll run far away and hide until we can figure out a better way. I don’t know if the police will believe us, but we can call them and tell them what David did to his own father and to Chuck. At the very least, they’ll investigate. David will be so busy covering his tracks, he might lose ours.”

I could feel myself being swayed by her words. My brain told me it was a long shot, but my heart told me it was time to run, not to fight.

“You’re right.” I took a deep breath. “Let’s get out of here.”

“All right.” Darcy smiled.

I nodded and turned to go up the stairs. “There are more of us out there. If we can locate them, maybe we can find safety in numbers.”

“Others?” she asked as she followed me. “How do you know?”

“I went to see Father Putnam. He ran away, but I saw a text message on his cell phone from someone named Miles, who said they had a lead on a third. If there are three, there are probably more. If we can get to them, maybe we can all help one another.”

We were at the top of the stairs, and the basement door was closed. I put my finger to my lips as I leaned closer to listen.

There were no sounds on the other side of the door.

Carefully, I turned the knob and eased the door open. Poking my head out, I looked around for signs of Nick or David. I didn’t see or hear anything.

I stepped out into a short hall, which connected a front sitting room to the kitchen where Nick had been eating his sandwich. His plate was still on the table.

The kitchen light was on, and I didn’t want to risk turning it off in case someone was near. Staying close to the wall, I edged toward the open window and looked across the property. Nick was standing outside the generator hut, looking in through the open door as if trying to figure out what had caused the interruption.

The one thing I noticed, however, was that he was standing as still as a statue.

Focusing my sight closer, I saw two things. The first was that he had his gun in his hand, hanging at his side. The second was that there was a long cylindrical object resting on his shoulder.

I looked closer, and realized it was a rifle. Masked by the shadow of the hut, David waited, looking through the sight.

Jumping back away from the window, I ran into Darcy, almost knocking her over.

“Front door,” I said, pointing. “Run.”

Both of us raced down the short hall into the sitting room. Darcy reached the door first and grabbed the handle to open it inward.

The moment her hand touched the knob, though, it was as if she had touched a high-voltage electric wire. It threw her back into me. I caught her and barely managed to keep both of us on our feet.

Darcy held her hand to her chest. “What the hell was that?”

“Hang on,” I said, moving around her and making my way to the door. Reaching out slowly, I stopped when I saw the hairs on my arm rise.

“He’s got the door wired.”

Darcy, still clutching her sore hand, went to the window to the side of the door. She extended a finger toward the frame, and pulled back when she felt the same electric current.

I stepped back from the door. “Did he wire the entire house?” I tried the window on the other side of the room to the same effect, and then said, “Stand back.”

“What are you going to do?” Darcy asked.

I positioned myself in front of the door and focused the power, collecting the air from inside the room and willing it toward the door.

The wind I created was strong enough that Darcy had to drop to the ground and cover her head with her hands. Her hair whipped about as the cyclone in the room grew in intensity.

I willed it against the front door, hoping it would tear the entire wall apart.

Instead, all I ended up doing was knocking the furniture in the room around. The door, the window, and the wall remained intact.

“What the hell?” I said.

Darcy, standing and trying to put her hair back in order, made a gesture toward me. “Out of the way. Let me try something.”

Focusing herself, she held her hands in front of her, palms open. I saw a small flicker of light as she caused the very molecules of air between her hands to ignite.

A ball of fire the size of a basketball grew in that space, and with a visible effort, Darcy hurled it at the door.

It exploded in a shower of flame and sparks. The drape hanging from the side of the window next to the door caught fire. The flames danced across the top of a stuffed sofa, and burned a small circular area below the door. The walls of the house were left undamaged.