Blood and Feathers Read online

  “Are they letting you make your own decisions now? How... surprising. Does your keeper know? I would have thought to find him guarding such a precious prize.” She looked straight at Alice, who shivered and took a step backwards.

  Mallory stepped between them. “Maybe – but he’s not here, is he? You’re dealing with me.”

  “You? One of heaven’s brutes. Unthinking drones, that’s all you ever were, and all you’ll ever be. A coward who didn’t even have the courage to stand with us and Fall. Now look at you! Neutered. A little puppy dog waiting for its master to throw it a scrap.”

  “Speaking of masters,” Mallory said, “how’s yours?” He smiled brightly, pulling out his gun, and Lilith cried out as Mallory brought his Colt level with her forehead. “Goodbye, Lilith.” He pulled the trigger, and she exploded in a shower of dust.

  At the sound of the gunshot, Vin raised his head and peered over his sunglasses, propping himself up on his elbows. “That wasn’t at all harsh, was it?”

  “What? It’s Lilith...”

  “I know.”

  “...and she’ll be back again soon enough.”

  “I know. And, boy, will she be pissed.”

  “By the way, thanks for the help there. Really had her stone-cold stuck, didn’t you?”

  “That’s the thing,” Vin sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the tomb. “She was moving, wasn’t she? Shouldn’t have been able to. I fixed her, then came straight to you. By the time I was back, she was almost free. I’m worried I’m losing my mojo.” He held up a hand in front of his face and wiggled his fingers.

  Mallory frowned. “You mean, she was breaking loose? That soon?”

  “That’s what I said. Shouldn’t happen.”

  “But it did. I don’t like it.” Mallory crouched down and scooped up a handful of the dust that had been Lilith, letting it run through his fingers. Shaking his head, he brushed his palms together and turned to Alice. “So, you’ve just met your first Fallen. That’s what we’re up against.”

  “She was a statue. Are they all...?”

  “No! No, that was Vin. Remember I mentioned angels – even Earthbounds – having gifts? That’s Vin’s. He can turn the Fallen to stone. Which is only occasionally as useful as you might imagine. They break free eventually, of course, but I’ve never seen one shake it off so quickly, especially not one like Lilith.”

  “She was... nice. You two have got some kind of history, haven’t you?” Alice heard Vin choking back a snigger.

  Mallory scowled. “Not exactly. Sort of. It was a long time ago.” He leaned around her and pointed at Vin. “And you can stop that. You said you’d dealt with her, and I believed you. I brought Alice, so she could see what’s hunting her. So she could understand. What if Lilith really had got loose? What if something had happened to....”

  “Hey!” Alice pushed Mallory’s shoulder, forcing him to step back. “I’m right here. You stop talking over me, or I’m gone. So far, I reckon I’ve done really well at all this, bearing in mind this time yesterday, I was still at work...” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Work! I’m supposed to be at work! What am I going to tell them?”

  “Nothing. You don’t seriously think you’re going back there, do you?”

  “Well, yes. I have to. It’s my job.”

  “And the first place the Fallen will look for you. From now on, you don’t exist. And from now on, you don’t go anywhere without me.”

  “Wow. Stalker much?” Alice rolled her eyes.

  Mallory stared at her. “What? You think this means you get to be clever?” He picked up another handful of stone dust and threw it at her. “This? You think you know what’s coming, based on one of the weaker Fallen that Vhnori had already, supposedly, taken care of?”

  “Woah, there,” Vin interrupted. “First of all, don’t call me that. Second, don’t you even start trying to blame me for anything. I told you...”

  “Shut up, Vin,” Mallory snapped at him, then rounded on Alice again. “You need to wake up, Alice. Otherwise you’re as good as dead. Worse.” It was fairly obvious that there was a lot more he had to say to Alice, who stuck her chin out in defiance. She had had enough. Blowing lightbulbs, dead parents, angels, angels with a drinking problem, exploding houses, hiding in churches and now... talking statues in league with the devil. It wasn’t exactly normal.

  Mallory didn’t get to finish whatever tirade he was about to launch into. Instead he sighed and stared at a spot somewhere over Alice’s right shoulder. She turned – a little reluctantly, as she was really getting warmed up for an almighty fight – and saw what he was looking at.

  A tiny, bright point of light was hanging in mid-air not far behind them, sparks crackling about it as it grew larger and larger. Alice heard Vin mutter something under his breath, and suddenly she could see a shape in the light: a man... no, an angel. It was all getting a bit underwhelming, she thought, as Gwyn materialised and the light faded. All the fight went from Mallory and he hung his head, cowed. Alice wasn’t surprised. The look on Gwyn’s face was the sort you’d expect to see on a rhino that has just been slapped. He strode forward, his finger pointing very firmly at Mallory.

  “You. Enough. Move!”

  If Mallory was at all startled, he didn’t show it. Instead, he spun on his heel and ducked, somehow leaping sideways and drawing his gun at the same time. Alice froze, and would have stayed frozen if she hadn’t been hauled aside by Vin. It was a disconcerting feeling: she braced herself to hit the ground, but the ground never came. They were floating... She looked over her shoulder, and saw grey feathers, spread wide behind them. Vin set her down carefully, and pulled her behind the tomb he had been lying on. “Stay here.” He stepped back out again, leaving her huddled behind the stone.

  There was a noise like the air tearing and then a horrible, hard-edged grating sound: nails on a blackboard. Big nails. Sharp nails. Beyond that, Alice thought she could hear the beating of wings, and she decided to stick her head above the tomb.

  What she saw made her grip the edge of the stone plinth until her fingertips went white. Not far away, Vin was rolling across the grass towards the cover of the trees, his wings tucked tightly against his back. As she watched, Mallory hopped onto a gravestone, planting one foot firmly on the top of it and leaping into the air. As he jumped, he slowed, and opened his wings. Somehow, she had forgotten that he had them. Like Vin’s, they were a dirty grey – narrower than she had expected, perhaps. He hovered gracefully a few feet off the ground, his gun fixed on something below.

  It was a dark shape, hunkered close to the earth; Gwyn stood over it, his own wings outstretched and glowing bright. Sparks shot across the feathers and glistened at his fingertips as he cracked his knuckles. The shape moved, revealing a pale hand inside all the darkness. A hand clenched in a tight fist. Was it a man? It had to be, surely – although it was twisted and wrapped in a mist that made it impossible to see clearly. Gwyn seemed to know what he was looking at and he crouched down, laying a palm flat on what must have been the thing’s back. There was a sharp crackle and the shape convulsed, letting out a horrible cry. Gwyn lifted his hand and peered at it. It tightened itself further into a ball, but Alice could still see that fist, creeping ever so slowly forward. Gwyn straightened up and stepped away, turning his back – and then the Fallen made its move.

  Alice leapt to her feet. “Look out!”

  Gwyn whipped round in time to see the Fallen angel uncurl itself and lurch wildly towards him, fist raised, the darkness that had surrounded it dropping away. He jumped back, his wings easily carrying him out of reach, but then, the Fallen stopped. It drew itself completely upright and cricked its neck... and Alice was horrified to see it had wings of its own. They were black, the feathers sharp and spiny. It opened them out, and not so much shook as rattled them at Gwyn, all the time letting out a terrible cry. Gwyn smiled at it, coldly. And it turned its head and looked straight at Alice.

  She found she couldn’t look away; no matter ho
w much she wanted to, she simply couldn’t. Its face was that little bit too pointed: its chin too sharp, its nose too long, its eyes too close together. Apart from that, she thought, it could have been any man, any passerby in the street – once you got past the wings, of course. It – he – had broad shoulders and strong arms which he flexed as he began to turn his whole body towards her. There was a thick bright white mark on his skin, circling one of his wrists, and as she watched, his fingers trailed along it. His eyes turned red. Not just the pupils of them, or the irises, but the whole of them. And as he turned to fully face her, he laughed.

  At least, he did until Mallory’s boot hit him squarely in the side of his head, sending him tumbling to the ground.

  Mallory landed beside him, grabbing him by the shoulders and hauling him to his feet. Vin came scrambling out of the trees, rolling up his sleeves as he ran

  The earth shook. Alice was pitched sideways, her head cracking against the stone. She saw stars, shaking her head to clear her vision. Gwyn was airborne, shouting something to Mallory, but Mallory was too busy trying to keep his footing and his grip on the Fallen to listen. Vin took a running jump, clearing the ground, his wings carrying him up above the Fallen just as he broke free from Mallory and made a run for it.

  Still blinking back flashes of light, Alice watched as he ran straight at a hole in the ground; one that seemed to have come from nowhere. A gaping maw in the earth where there had been a grave. All three angels lunged for him – two from the air, one from behind – but as they did, the Fallen simply leapt into the void, his wings tucked behind him, and disappeared.

  The ground shook again and, unsteadily, Alice stood up.

  Gwyn, Mallory and Vin were all standing around the grave where the Fallen had vanished – now nothing but soil and grass and a headstone that said ‘Beloved son and father.’ As Alice staggered forward, Mallory took her arm. He looked at Gwyn. “Well, that’s new.”

  “They’ve found something,” Gwyn muttered, scuffing at the long grass with a polished shoe. “They’re moving ahead. I’d heard rumours, but I was sure...”

  “Sure that’s all they were? Yeah, me too. Until I saw one of the Twelve base-jump into an open grave.” Mallory took Alice’s hand in his. “Let’s look at you, shall we? Yes, I thought so. Tilt your head up for me?” He lifted her chin gently. “Nasty cut you’ve got there. Anything else we need to fix?”

  “I... don’t think so.” Her head throbbed; her vision swam and she sagged against him. He caught her easily.

  “Let’s get you inside. The sooner we can get you sitting down, the sooner I can patch you up.”

  ALICE DIDN’T REMEMBER much of the walk back to Mallory’s little cupboard. Her head was spinning and a creeping darkness seeped in at the edge of her sight. She couldn’t hear what Mallory said – the only sound was a high-pitched metallic scrape. Given the choice between this and passing out, she took the easy option and passed out.

  She woke to the smell of dust, among other things. She was on that sofa again. Mallory and Gwyn were huddled in a corner, their voices low, although she wondered why they bothered whispering; she was fairly sure she wouldn’t be able to understand them anyway. Mallory seemed to be able to switch between a hundred languages without even pausing, and it probably wasn’t a unique talent for these guys. There was no sign of Vin.

  She groaned and dragged herself a little more upright. “Ouch.”

  “Stay there, Alice. Don’t try and get up.” Mallory passed her a glass of water and she eyed it suspiciously. “I washed the glass. Gwyn saw me. It’s clean.”

  “Thanks.” She gulped it down, and promptly fought back a wash of nausea. “Ugh.”

  “You cracked your head pretty hard on that stone. Probably should be in hospital.”

  “I should?”

  “It’d be sensible. But luckily, you’ve got me, haven’t you?” Mallory took off his jacket and tossed it onto the table, rolling up his sleeves and crouching in front of her. “Let’s get you back on your feet, shall we?” He cricked his neck and held out his hands, palm up. Alice stared at him.

  “Your hands, Alice. Give me your hands.”

  “Why?”

  “Remember what I told you. Have a little faith.”

  Alice laid her hands on his; they felt warm. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Maybe she was imagining it, but his hands were starting to feel warmer, and warmer still. Her fingers began to tingle, and the sensation spread to her wrists, her elbows, her shoulders and neck... and finally her head, growing stronger all the time, like a thousand tiny pins were jabbing at her. More: a hundred thousand, a million. Her body began to shake and she was sure she would scream – and then it stopped. Just like that. She snatched her hands back from Mallory, who sagged a little, rocking on his heels. “My head...” she said, blinking.

  “Mallory’s gift is to heal.” Gwyn’s voice came from behind her. “But he pays a price for it.”

  Alice looked back at Mallory, who was still on the floor. He looked pale, his skin shining with sweat. “I think I’m going to be sick,” he muttered as he pulled himself to his feet and staggered to the sink, where he proceeded to throw up copiously and noisily. Alice stared at him, and Gwyn spoke again, opening the door.

  “I didn’t think it could possibly smell any worse in here. Apparently I was wrong. You see, Alice, Mallory can heal anyone, anything, but only if he takes on their pain. Clearly, the worse the injury, the worse the pain and the harder it is for him. But that’s his purpose.”

  “His purpose is to get hurt? That’s not exactly fair, is it?”

  “That depends on your point of view. After all, you feel better, don’t you?”

  “Well, yes...”

  “And Mallory acted of his own free will to heal you, did he not?”

  “I guess...”

  “Then how, precisely, can you say that it isn’t fair?”

  “I just...” She stopped as Mallory let out another loud retch, his head buried in the sink. He looked utterly pathetic. It was very difficult to hold any kind of conversation with someone throwing up, so she gave up and instead decided to test her legs. Half-expecting to land straight back on the sofa, she stood up. She felt fine, better than fine, better than she remembered feeling, well, ever.

  Gwyn nodded. “It’s quite a gift. You might want to thank him later. But possibly not now.”

  As he spoke, there was another groan from the sink. “Oww. My head. You could have warned me about the headache.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Yeah. Because that helps.” Another groan.

  Vin stuck his head around the door. “It’s all clear, nothing else for miles,”

  “You’re sure?” Gwyn tapped his foot thoughtfully.

  “Absolutely. I... oh, I see he fixed you, then? Maybe it’ll do him good, get all that shit out of his system.”

  He mimed taking a drink. Mallory made an obscene gesture towards the door, not raising his head from the sink.

  “That must’ve been some head bump you got,” Vin continued. “I’ve not...” he tailed off, his eyes widening. Alice looked behind her, but there was nothing there besides the piles of books and rubbish. She turned back to Vin, who was definitely still staring. Without taking his eyes off her, he edged towards Gwyn and tapped him on the arm.

  “What?” Gwyn glanced up in irritation, then followed his gaze towards Alice. “Well, well.” He folded his arms. “Mallory?”

  “A little busy here.”

  “Mallory, get your head out of the sink.”

  “Piss off.”

  “Mallory – look at her.”

  MALLORY HALF-TURNED AND peered under his arm at her. “What the...?”

  “What?” said Alice, not quite sure whether to be afraid or annoyed. And then she looked down, and saw what they were staring at.

  She was standing in a pool of fire.

  She leapt backwards, but the fire followed. Flames shivered across her feet, snaking up towards her knees,
but no higher. And she couldn’t feel them, not at all. She swatted at them with her hand, but nothing happened, other than the flames wrapping themselves around her fingers. Should she be screaming, she wondered... and then that little voice at the back of her mind was speaking again, echoing Mallory: Have faith.

  She swallowed the panic and shakily lifted her hand. Fire danced across her palm and wove between her fingers. There was no pain. Her skin didn’t blister, it didn’t even feel hot. She looked up, and saw the three of them staring at her – Vin open-mouthed, Mallory still slightly grey, and Gwyn with the strangest expression on his face.

  And just as suddenly as it had appeared, it was gone.

  Mallory rubbed his face, clearly feeling a little more like himself. Vin nudged him and held out his hand. Mallory pressed his hipflask into it and Vin drained it in one, edging around Alice and slumping down on the sofa. “I didn’t just imagine that, did I?”

  “No,” said Gwyn. “You didn’t. And you know what that means.”

  “But fire?” said Mallory, stretching. “Fire? That can’t be. It just... can’t. Was....?”

  “Her mother? Not that I knew, but it seems there’s more to this than I was aware of. She’s not just another half-breed. She’s... something else.” Gwyn narrowed his eyes. “I must report this. I’ll be back soon.” As he spoke, a wind picked up, swirling papers and rustling the pages of books. A bright light filled the room, and then he was gone.

  “Would someone,” Alice said as calmly as she could, “please tell me what just happened?”

  “Fire.” Vin was still on the sofa, his head in his hands, muttering to himself. “No wonder they want her.”

  “Mallory?” She could hear her voice cracking. Mallory picked up his jacket and pulled it on. “All angels have gifts, Alice. We just found yours. And it means that you’re more important than we thought. A lot more important.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Puddlejumping