Blood and Feathers (4 page)

Gwyn sat forward, his eyes searching Alice’s face for just a moment too long, then got up and moved to the window.

“I wish this were easier, Alice.” He folded his arms and a chill ran down her spine. She looked sideways at Mallory, but he was still staring at the floor and would not meet her gaze. “You have to believe me when I say this is all far from ideal. It’s not at all how I would choose to operate, but we don’t always get to make the easy choices. And nor do you.

“We knew your mother, Alice. We knew her better than even your father did. And we know you. Now it’s time for you to know us.” He closed his eyes, and the edges of the room suddenly seemed sharper, brighter. Everything grew lighter, and there was a sound like the wind in the trees, faint at first, then louder and louder.

As Alice watched, Gwyn unfolded his wings, and every bulb in the house blew out as one.

CHAPTER FOUR

Ancient History

A
LICE HEARD LAUGHTER
. It was light and high, a woman’s laugh, and she found herself looking around for its source. It was only when she saw Mallory’s scowl that she realised it was her, and she closed her mouth.

The room should have been dark without the lights, but there was another light in the room, one which hummed and throbbed like a heartbeat. It was Gwyn – or rather, it was his wings.

The narrow little room wasn’t large enough for him to open them fully, so they sat slightly folded behind him, sweeping down until the tips brushed the floor. They were white and they
shimmered
. All across the surface of the feathers, white sparks glittered and arced.

“He doesn’t like it when people do that. Laugh, I mean. Makes him grouchy,” said Mallory. “Best act like you’re impressed, or you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Thank you, Mallory. I think it’s time you made yourself useful, don’t you?” Gwyn’s voice had a slight echo to it, as though it came from far-off, and despite his attempt to hide it, it sounded a little deflated. His wings rustled as he stepped closer to Alice, the light from them casting moving shadows on the walls. Mallory rolled his eyes, then snapped his fingers. There was a gentle tinkling sound, and the lights flared back into life.

Alice knew her mouth was open again, but she couldn’t seem to close it. It didn’t bother her too much – presumably, said the voice in the back of her head, they were used to it. What with their being
angels
and everything. The laugh threatened to bubble up from inside her again, and she swallowed it down. Something tickled her cheek, and she reached up to brush it away; her fingertips came away wet, and she was startled to find that she was crying. She didn’t
do
crying. It wasn’t her thing. She looked up, and Gwyn was right in front of her, his wings tucked back. “Alice. This is important...”

“How come I couldn’t see them before?”

“I... What?”

“The wings. I couldn’t see them before. You can’t have had them hidden away, so why couldn’t I see them?”

“That’s all you have to say? You want to know why you couldn’t see them?”

“Well, yes.”

Alice wiped her face, hard. Gwyn was frowning at her, and somewhere across the room there was the sound of laughter again, a man’s this time. Mallory was laughing so hard that he almost rolled off the sofa, tipping his head back and scrambling to catch his breath. Eventually, he wagged a finger towards Alice.

“She,” he said, “is
just
like her mother.”

“I very much hope not.” Gwyn didn’t bother to look over at Mallory, instead keeping his eyes fixed on Alice. They were so very blue, this close. Blue like... well, like nothing Alice had ever seen. And it felt like they were staring straight into her. He was too close, too near – and that smell, that cold smell was overwhelming. She got the feeling it probably wasn’t aftershave after all. “You didn’t answer my question, though, did you?”

“The wings? Fine. It’s a trick of perception. You can’t see air, can you, but you don’t doubt that it’s there. You’ve woken. You’ll find you see a lot of things differently now. That’s why we’re here. Is that good enough?”

“Not that question.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Who are you, and what do you want?”

“Who
are
we? I don’t know if you’d noticed, but... angels?”

Gwyn’s eyebrows shot up, and Mallory snorted back another laugh. Alice was warming to him. Gwyn, she wasn’t so sure about.

“That doesn’t tell me anything.”

“Oh, for...” Gwyn backed away and rubbed his forehead with his hand. His wings vanished and the light from them faded. “Do you know how many men and women across the centuries have been visited by angels? No, don’t answer. It’s a rhetorical question. Let me tell you: thousands. And in all the centuries I’ve known, never have I been greeted with such arrogance, such... such...”

“I told you, she’s just like her mother. She has her eyes, remember? She can see to the heart of things. Even you.” Mallory stood up, patting his jacket, feeling for something in the pockets... the flask, perhaps. Evidently, he found whatever it was; a look of relief settled across his face and he stopped patting. “She wants to know who we are, and what we want? I say we tell her. All of it.” He turned to Alice and pointed at the sofa he had just vacated. “Sit down. You’re going to want to soon enough, so you might as well get comfortable.” She sat. Gwyn had retreated to the window, and Mallory smirked at him. “Are you sulking?”

“Watch your mouth. Remember who you’re addressing.”

“As if I could forget.” There was something hidden behind those words, but before Alice could think about it any further, Mallory had perched himself on the arm of the chair opposite her and put one foot on the edge of the table. “Where would you like us to start?” he asked, kindly. Alice stared back at him, and he nodded. “Good point. Anywhere.

“You know our names. And you’re a smart girl. You’ve seen his wings. Mine aren’t quite so impressive. It would be a bit of an anticlimax, frankly, if I was to join in with all this, so I won’t. But they’re there. Buy me a drink, maybe, and...”

“Mallory!” Gwyn snapped.

“Sorry, sorry. You know what we are. And we’ve already told you we knew your mother.”

“Did she know that you were...?” Alice stumbled over the words, although even as they came out of her mouth, she realised how they sounded.

Mallory blinked at her. “Think, Alice.
Think
.”

“Oh.” She felt cold.

“There you go.”

“But that’s...”

“Impossible. Yeah. I get that. Almost as impossible as Feathers over there.”

“But...”

“If you want to have a conversation, you’re going to need to start finishing those sentences, Alice. Otherwise, I suggest you sit tight and listen. When I’m done, you can ask me as many questions as you want. Provided you can actually get them out.” He paused, but Alice shook her head and sat in silence.

“So. Angels 101. Real, obviously. Not all harps and haloes. Again: obviously. We’re not so big on the sitting around on clouds singing praises, either. We’re soldiers.”

“Soldiers?”

“Back with the talking again, Alice?”

“Sorry.”

“That’s my girl. Soldiers. Like I said, you’re smart. And if I know your father, you’ve read the books, haven’t you?” He pointed to a tall bookshelf in the corner of the room, stuffed with battered paperbacks. Alice nodded mutely. Satisfied, Mallory continued. “‘And there was war in Heaven...’ Ring a bell? I bet it does. And you know what? It’s all real. The Morningstar, the Fall.
All
of it. They’re down there – literally down there. And they want out. They want to be in charge. They’ve been trying to get out for thousands of years. Our job is to keep them down there, out of the way, by any means necessary.” He reached behind his back, and pulled out a sturdy-looking handgun, which he turned over in his hands before tucking it back into his belt. Alice’s eyes bulged.

“You don’t smell like he does,” she blurted.

Mallory looked a little flustered, and opened and closed his mouth. Obviously he didn’t have an answer to that, and he looked towards Gwyn for help. Gwyn folded his arms, enjoying Mallory’s discomfort.

“Mallory and I differ in several respects,” he said. “Apart from, as you say, our... scent, Mallory has already mentioned the difference in our wings...”

“Compensating!” Mallory coughed into his fist.

Gwyn shot him a dirty look and continued. “What he hasn’t told you is that his wings have been clipped. What you’re looking at, Alice, is a perfect example of an Earthbound.”

“An Earthbound?” Alice asked, glancing from Gwyn to Mallory. He looked uncomfortable, even embarrassed.

“Suspended. You see, if an angel brings disgrace upon himself, his general may choose to exile him. His wings are clipped and he is banished to Earth to serve out his sentence. Such angels are known as Earthbounds. Mallory is one of them.”

“And lucky for me, I get
you
to keep an eye on me.” Mallory growled, then turned back to Alice. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. Honestly. I...” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “I was under a lot of pressure and I made a couple of bad choices.” He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “I’m sure you, of all people, can understand that.”

It was Alice’s turn to feel uncomfortable. She didn’t like what Mallory was suggesting. It was like he knew things that had happened a long time ago; things she didn’t want to talk about. Eager to change the subject, she pointed at Gwyn. “So if you’re an Earthbound, what’s he, then?”

“‘
He
,’” said Gwyn, “is a Descended.”

“Which unfortunately means he gets to be the boss of me,” Mallory said. He slid further down into the chair, not taking his feet from the table. “All angels, when they come down here, are known as Descendeds. I mean, when you’re up there, you’re just... angels, so. Every Earthbound – and there’s more of us than he’d have you believe, thanks – is assigned to the charge of a Descended. They... supervise, make sure we’re behaving ourselves. And I’m afraid that as you get me looking after you, you get him too. It’s a twofer.”

“Twofer?”

“Two for one. Where was I?” He looked up at Alice, and smiled when he saw the blank expression on her face. “Too much?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You got questions?”

“I suppose: what’s this all got to do with me?”

“Ah.” Mallory pulled out the flask again and took a swig. “You want...? No. You don’t, do you?” He screwed the top on and pocketed it. “Your mother was an angel, Alice. What do you think that makes you?”

Alice didn’t want to think about that, not at all. It was enough that she had two men standing in front of her talking about angels, and that one of them had a gun and a hip-flask. She had so far, while they were talking, been devoting a great deal of energy to
not
thinking about what any of this had to do with her, or her mother. As it was, she was having quite enough trouble absorbing everything that had been said. It was all so...
odd
. And yet, at the same time, that little voice in the back of her head told her everything would be alright. All she had to do was believe it. Because it was the truth. How ridiculous was that? “I can’t be an angel. I’m a librarian. That’s absurd.”

“You’re not an angel,” Gwyn said pointedly.

Alice stared at him. “Not... then...?”

“You’re only half. It’s likely that the angel half is dominant, which is why we’re here. But you’re still only half.”

“Which in and of itself is still a big deal, Alice.” Mallory swung his feet down from the table. “You might want to take most of what he says there with a pinch of salt. You’re half-angel, which means that you have gifts. You always have done, it’s just that you never knew how to use them. Never even knew they were there – not if your dad didn’t tell you anything about them.”

“Did he know? About my mother, I mean?”

“Not now.” Mallory paused. “We don’t have time to tell you all of this, not now. There’s a reason we’re here, and we can’t tell you every last detail now, however much you want to know it. We
will
tell you, but it’ll have to wait.”