Natural Born Angel (10 page)

“What if we don’t have to? Wait, I mean,” Maddy said. As she said the words, a pang flashed through her as every insecurity she’d ever had seemed to parade in front of her brain.

But instead of pondering the anxieties, she just arched her back, and her lips met Jackson’s again as he pressed her against him. Her breaths came hot and shallow, as she felt the definition of the Angel’s strong, lean body under his shirt, against hers. Jackson ran his hands lightly under her shirt and along her Immortal Marks. The marks began to tingle under the sensation of his fingertips. She giggled for a moment.

“That tickles,” Maddy said, pulling back for a second. “In a good way.” Then she drew a sharp breath in as they kissed again. Maddy threaded her hands into Jackson’s hair as the kiss deepened. With the other hand, she unbuttoned Jackson’s dress shirt, then began to tug at the bottom of his undershirt, and he peeled it off. She could feel the almost searing heat coming off the Angel’s chest and torso as it heaved.

Then, trembling, Maddy’s body seemed to simply melt into Jacks’s. There seemed to be no difference between the two of them. Jackson separated his lips from hers and kissed her ear, and she felt his warm breath against her.

Was this how it was going to happen?

Maddy’s pulse raced as every atom in her body started pointing towards one answer: yes.

Pulling back, Maddy met Jackson’s gorgeous blue eyes, which were only inches away from hers. She placed her hand on his chest and could feel his heart pounding underneath her fingertips.

“Jacks,” Maddy said.

The two slowly lowered down on the couch, until Maddy could feel the full weight of the Angel on her. A buzzing energy coursing through her tingling body, she let Jacks pull her in for another kiss.

After maybe fifteen seconds, Maddy realized what the buzzing was.

Her phone was ringing.

She pulled out of the kiss, her breathing heavy. Maddy’s eyes darted over to her iPhone, which was ringing and vibrating dully across the floor.

“It can wait,” Jackson said, nibbling at her lip.

“You’re probably right,” Maddy said, managing a smile. The phone stopped ringing and went to voicemail.

“See? They can just leave a message,” Jackson said.

Jacks leaned down and lightly kissed her, and soon they were back where they started. Maddy shivered as Jacks ran his hands along her Immortal Marks again. It was almost too much.

Suddenly the phone began ringing again. Its insistent buzz broke Jacks and Maddy away one more time.

“Maybe it’s important,” Maddy said, anxiously casting her eyes over to the phone again. She propped herself up from the couch with one elbow and pushed her tousled hair behind her ear.

Jackson sighed. “If it’s really important, they’ll just leave a message and you can call them back. You’re Maddy Montgomery. Whoever it is needs to cater to your schedule.” The phone stopped ringing again. But then came the alert that told her there was a text message. And another.

The word
schedule
triggered something in Maddy’s mind. She looked at the clock hanging above the sink.

“Oh no,” Maddy said.

The phone began ringing again, its sound at this point almost deafening in her ears.

“What?” Jacks himself now sat up.

“It’s Darcy. I totally forgot I have a phone interview with
Angels Weekly
. We’ve been trying all week to schedule.”

“
Now?
” Jacks said, incredulously. “It’s night.”

“It was the only time we could fit it in. Darcy’s been trying so hard to get me this cover. I have to pick up, Jacks. It’s important.”

Jackson looked down on her, his face a mask of poorly hidden disappointment. He sighed. “Fine, do what you need to do.”

“Jacks, please don’t be angry. I – this is my job. You of all people should understand.” Jacks looked away when she said this, his eyes flashing angrily. “Jacks, Jacks.” She cradled her hand under his chin and looked at him directly. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

And with that she slid out from underneath him and dashed over to scoop the phone off the counter.

“Darcy?” she said, answering the phone. “I’m so sorry, I had the ringer on silent . . . Steve is on? Oh, so great to hear your voice again, Steve, I’ve been
so
looking forward. . .”

Jacks sat on the edge of the couch, leaned over, his elbows on his knees. He watched Maddy as she walked to the massive window, beginning the phone interview. He could see her smile in the reflection of the glass, mixing with the neon lights of Angel City below.

Sighing, Jacks picked his crumpled shirt off the floor.
At least there’s something else I could be doing
, he thought wearily. He pulled on his shirt and, picking up his phone, hit the button to call Mark.

T
he lights of the Porsche cut a line of illumination across the parking structure as it climbed to the rooftop level. The top level was empty at this hour, except for one other car. Night had fallen on Angel City, but the stretch of Angel Boulevard just a couple of blocks away was buzzing with activity. The neon signs for glamorous hotels, along with towering billboards, gleamed in the night above the palm trees and tourists taking in the sights. The famous Divine Records building rose just beyond that, the Angel City sign presiding over it all on the hill.

The Porsche rounded the edge of the rooftop car park and pulled parallel to the other car. Its 350-horsepower engine idled for a moment, echoing across the roof. The engine turned off. The lights stayed on. Archangel Mark Godspeed stepped out of the car.

Detective Sylvester was already out of his vehicle, looking out at Angel Boulevard. The neon from the world-famous street reflected in the lenses of his wire-framed glasses. A helicopter roared over the scene, deafening for a moment before quickly disappearing into the evening, its searchlight cutting down across the innumerable streets and alleys of the Immortal City.

Suddenly the rumble of another engine echoed up the top of the parking structure, and Jackson’s Ferrari emerged and parked angled next to Mark’s Porsche. The detective raised an eyebrow.

Mark walked up to the detective’s side. “This is a little cloak-and-dagger now, isn’t it, David?”

“I don’t want any complications. Distractions. I don’t know whom I can trust,” Sylvester said.

“And you think you can trust me?”

Sylvester looked at him and shrugged. “I’ve got no one else.” The detective glanced over as Jacks emerged from his car. “I didn’t know your stepson was coming.”

Mark shrugged. “He wants to be involved. He’s smart. We can use him.”

“Hello, Jackson,” Sylvester said as Jacks reached them. “It’s been a while.”

Jacks nodded. “I never got to properly thank you for what you did for Maddy and me last year.”

Sylvester shook his head. “Don’t mention it.”

“You look tired, David,” Mark said.

“It’s been a long few weeks.”

Mark got to the point. “I heard they put you on the bombing case. Sorry to hear that. According to our own NAS investigators, there’s practically no forensic evidence. A lot of dead ends. The Council and the Archangels are less than convinced that a human police force will be going after these perpetrators with sufficient force. Which is why we’re preferring to handle the investigation ourselves.”

“The investigation . . . and the justice?” Sylvester said. “Whose side of the law are you on?”

“We’re on whatever side protects us, David,” Mark said. “You have to know that.”

“I read all the statements, and there seems to be nothing solid to go on. They all sound the same,” Jackson said, changing the subject. “There’s got to be something there, though. Innocent people
died.
We need to bring the bombers to justice.”

Mark and Sylvester exchanged a look. Mark seemed taken aback. He had been underestimating Jackson’s motivation.

Sylvester cleared his throat. “Well, you’re right. I double-checked the initial ACPD work, re-interviewed all the neighbours, and questioned HDF informants across the region. So far, nothing. Then again, I don’t have access to the Angel files on the case,” he said pointedly, looking at Mark. “The main body of the HDF is still denying any connection. We may have to go straight to William Beaubourg himself.” He was referring to the infamous leader of the Humanity Defence Faction, who had been released from San Quentin prison the year before.

“Even I know Beaubourg’s hiding in plain sight in Malibu since he got released from prison,” Jackson said. “In the middle of all the Angels. Could be bad for his health. The organization of the HDF moves vertically, so his lieutenants can’t be far.”

Mark gave Jacks a surprised look.

“I told you I wanted to help,” Jacks said to his stepfather. “I’ve been researching.”

Sylvester raised an eyebrow. He was impressed Jackson had unearthed this information. Behind his fancy car and designer clothes, it seemed he might have some real grit.

Mark coughed into his hand. “But, David, if you asked us here in the middle of the night to try to get more information,” Mark said, “I’m sure you know more than I do— ”

“This isn’t about the bombing,” Sylvester said. “Well, at least not directly.”

Mark’s gaze sharpened. “Go on.”

“It’s about London.”

“London?” Jacks asked, puzzled. He studied the detective’s face.

“For some reason, I didn’t peg you for the travelling type, David,” Mark said.

“I didn’t take a trip.” The detective looked at Jackson and his stepfather. “You may have heard about the Eurostar derailment at St Pancras Station?”

“It was all over Twitter,” Jacks said.

“I may have read something about it,” Mark said.

“Something’s going on,” Sylvester said. “I think there are Dark Angels once again among us.”

“Demons?” Jacks asked, a chill rippling down his back as a muscle memory of the demon’s searing grip hit him. “But you yourself said the one that attacked me had gone back into hiding.”

“That’s true. But I think there may be more. Different demons. The marks inside the station were consistent with the marks in the cell last year after the demon came for its soul payment. Eyewitness accounts spoke of an incredible heat and steam shortly before the accident. These aren’t coincidental. And there have been other . . . incidents . . . that I’ve been coming across on the Internet. From Asia to South America. And in the Pacific Ocean, too – that disappearance of the F-18 last spring. And something else . . . downtown. These incidents are growing. I think bringing the Dark Angel forth last year created a kind of crack. There have even been . . . children killed.”

Mark’s ears perked up at the word
children
. “David, don’t let your past start clouding your judgement.”

Jacks gave his stepfather a questioning look.

“I resent the implication, Mark,” Sylvester said coldly.

“I’m sorry.” The Archangel didn’t sound sorry, though. He went silent in thought for a moment. “More demons? But why would they start coming now? Last year we faced a Dark Angel. A rogue. The demon did his grisly job and left. But his kind have otherwise remained hidden since the Wars. It doesn’t make sense.”

“I don’t know why. There are just too many variables right now.” Sylvester looked at the Archangel.

“What can we do?” Jacks asked. His encounter with the demon last year had been the worst experience of his life. No way was he letting anyone else go through something similar, if there was any way he could help prevent it.

“I’m going to need the aid of the NAS,” the detective said.

Mark looked uncertainly out into the night. “David . . . I made an error in not trusting your intuition last time. I misjudged it, and you. I’ve already apologized, and I’ll apologize again. But if you want me to go to the other Archangels— ”

Sylvester cut him off. “If what I’m fearing is true, the collective powers of the Angels need to be pulled together immediately to stop it. We have no idea how big it could get. You need to tell the other Archangels and bring this to the Council as soon as possible.”

Mark shook his head. “David.
I
trust you. But what proof do you have?”

“Proof? Dark Angels are just like deadly wisps, nightmares and fires in the night, gone as soon as they’ve destroyed. The proof is in the body count. Do we need more deaths?”

“He’s right, Mark,” Jacks said.

“I want to help you,” Mark said. “I honestly do. But there’s only so much I can do without proof. Dissension has hit the Archangels regarding how we need to deal with this bombing and the anti-Angel movement in general. Things are getting shaken up. You’ve seen the Council’s response to Senator Linden’s Immortals Bill. Well, it was a mistake to come out so strongly. Big chunks of support for the Angels in this country are starting to fade and disappear. Yes, the Angel networks are still airing all the same adulatory stuff. But there’s something shifting in this country outside of Angel City, in how Americans feel about the Angels. There is a lot of fear among my colleagues. That’s why Maddy has become so important to the Angels. We need to focus on positives, not negatives.

“My influence on the Archangels isn’t as strong as it once was,” Mark continued. “The others aren’t going to want to stir up trouble chasing ghosts, tales from the Bible, unless there is incontrovertible proof about what’s going on. Until then, they’ll feel we need to show a united, strong front.”

“But it’s not a story from the Bible. There was one here just last year!” Jackson said, his tone sharpening.

“It’s true,” Mark responded. “But enough questions were raised about Angels during the demon crisis last year. We can ill afford to dig up problems now, unless it’s something that’s a direct threat. This is something that sounds like a scary story from
The Book of Angels
, David. And we’re too old for scary stories. Right now we’re focusing on discovering who was behind the bombing and eliminating that threat. Not supposed Dark Angels a half a world away.”

“Demons don’t leave behind a smoking gun, a fingerprint, a chain of phone calls. They simply destroy.” Sylvester smiled sadly, shaking his head. “Don’t you understand, Mark? By the time it’s a direct threat, it’ll be too late. If what I think is happening is actually happening. . .” He put his hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Thank you for taking the time to meet me tonight.”

The detective walked to his car and opened the door.

“I’ll do what I can, David,” Mark said, his voice louder. Sylvester paused. “I can promise you that. I’ll be in touch. But things are just complicated.”

Sylvester smiled the sad smile again before getting all the way into the car. “They always are in this city. Goodnight, Mark, Jackson.” He nodded at both of them.

Jackson and Mark watched as the headlights of the cruiser started descending into the parking structure, ultimately disappearing into the levels below.