Angel Fever (28 page)

She hesitated. “And…well, here.” She opened the closet again and pointed. “See that big cardboard box? Our own personal Planned Parenthood.” She gave me an impish look. “It’s amazing what you can find when you scavenge a whole town.”

I was saved from answering; Alex and the others were walking up. “And we’ve got guards posted, right?” Alex was saying.

Jonah nodded. “All over town. They can alert us in minutes if the attack comes.”

“Okay, sleep with your gun next to you. All of you. Spread the word.”

As Jonah and Rachel continued down the corridor, Nina fell into step beside them; I saw Jonah link his fingers through hers. “Goodnight,” Nina called over her shoulder.

“Hey, you,” Alex said softly once we were alone.

He looked just like I’d remembered every second of this past year – every plane and angle of his face was exactly as I’d recalled. I swallowed, trying not to shake.

“Hey,” I whispered back.

Alex stroked my upper arms; even through my parka, I could feel the warmth of his fingers. “Willow, I—” he started, and then looked up as more people passed.

“
Alex Kylar,
” I heard one whisper. Breathless hellos, eyes shining.

Once they’d passed, Alex gave me a wry look. “It’s not going to be like this all night, is it? I just want to be alone with you for a few hours.”

I could feel my angel stirring, but I ignored her – because right then being alone with Alex was all that I wanted too. “Nina says the gym’s private,” I offered.

That slow grin I’d dreamed of so many times spread across Alex’s face. “Yeah?” He kissed me lightly, then grabbed up the sleeping bags and pillows. “Let’s go.”

The gym’s shadows melted away as we entered with a lantern: a broad, cold space with a small stage at one end. Alex jumped on the stage with a light leap. “Look – we can close the curtains. It’ll be warmer that way too.”

I went and joined him. He was on his knees, opening up the sleeping bags – and as I kneeled to help him, our eyes met. I paused mid-motion; we both went still. Finally Alex reached out and ran a gentle hand over my hair.

“I still can’t believe it, you know,” he said in a low voice. His thumb caressed my cheekbone. “Christ, I’ve missed a whole year of your life.”

A raw yearning for him rocked through me. I longed to reach for him – but all at once the shadows, the stage, came together in a surreal dream. If I moved, I’d wake up…and I couldn’t bear even the thought of that.

He murmured my name and kissed me. When he’d first come back, his kisses had been quick, frantic – this one was so long and deep that I felt myself dissolve into nothing.
Alex.
His smell – his taste. With a sudden moan, I pressed close, wrapping my arms around him, kissing him back for all I was worth.

“I love you,” I gasped. “Alex, I missed you so much – every day—”

“I love you too – I thought about you every second—”

Somehow our jackets came off; they fell to the stage with a rustle. I ran my hands under his T-shirt, needing to feel him; still kissing me, Alex pulled away slightly to yank the shirt over his head.

He reached for me again. “Wait,” I whispered. I sank back onto my heels and drank him in: the way the lantern’s glow played on the muscles of his chest; the look in his eyes as he gazed back at me.

I slowly reached out and glided my fingers over his smooth torso. I shivered at the familiar warmth. I hadn’t forgotten, not any of it. I traced the letters of his AK tattoo, then leaned over to press my lips against them. I felt drunk on him; I could never get enough.

“Oh god, Willow,” he whispered roughly. I felt his lips on my head, my cheek, his hand under my shirt, caressing over my ribcage, going upwards—

I pulled away, breathing hard. “Stop,” I said.

He paused, his eyes surprised. “Stop?”

I could feel my angel stirring again – that weird sensation of looseness that came when we weren’t in accord. She wasn’t happy about something, but right then I wasn’t too interested in finding out what.

“Yes – stop.” I picked up Alex’s T-shirt; as I handed it to him, I kissed him lingeringly. “Put that back on,” I whispered. “There’s a cardboard box out in the closet that you need to go check out.”

When I woke a few hours later, I was curled in Alex’s arms; his breathing was slow and steady. For a few heartbeats, my drowsy brain thought we were back at the base.
Do we have a simulation today?
I thought, nestling closer to him.
Hope we haven’t overslept.

Then I remembered.

I froze, my eyes abruptly wide open. We’d closed the stage curtains and were in total darkness; I had no idea what time it was. I sat up, hugging a blanket tight around myself – so aware of the warm sleeping form next to me. And even though I
knew
now that this was real…I still had to check.

I brought out my angel, and the stage exploded into ethereal light. Alex lay with one arm up on his pillow. The three weeks of stubble on his jaw was only a shadow; the light from my angel picked out every hair.

Three weeks,
I thought, staring at him. Twenty-one days – that was all this had been in Alex’s life.

The emotion that had been tugging at me since he returned came again, stronger than ever. I could feel my angel’s disquiet. I touched my forehead as it started to pound – and that’s when the thought I’d been trying to avoid hit me with sickening clarity.

There had been no reason for me to go through this last year. None. If Alex had just told me the truth…if I’d known there was a chance that he was still alive in the angels’ world…

It wouldn’t have made any difference; you still wouldn’t have known for sure,
I told myself dazedly.

It would have made the difference between hope and despair, and I knew it.

I felt dizzy suddenly – all I wanted was to slam this away again as hard as I could. Beside me, Alex stirred. He reached out and rubbed my arm. “Hey,” he murmured. “Everything okay?”

“Fine,” I got out. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He tugged at me. “Come back, you’re too far away.”

I felt like a clenched fist. I lay down beside him again; he wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my shoulder. I sensed him doing a scan and realizing: “Your angel’s out.”

“Yes, um…” I closed my eyes hard, willing this to go away. “I just wanted to see you. Make sure you’re real.”

Alex lifted his energy above his crown chakra and took in my angel. “She’s more beautiful than ever, you know,” he said. “So are you.” He touched my hair, fingering a blonde strand.

“I like this,” he said. “You were gorgeous as a redhead and a brunette too, but – this is who you are.”

I cleared my throat. Somehow my voice sounded normal. “That’s…why I did it. I wanted to be me again when I faced Raziel.”

Alex glanced at the closed curtains. “Speaking of that – any idea what time it is?”

I sent my angel soaring up briefly through the roof: icy air and piercing stars. “Still early,” I said as she returned. “I don’t think we’ve been asleep very long.”

“Okay, let’s at least try to get another hour.” Then Alex really looked at me. “Are you sure you’re all right? You seem so tense.”

Alex, so close that I could feel his body’s warmth even where we weren’t touching – it was everything I’d longed for, so why was I
feeling
like this? “I’m fine,” I said after a pause. “It must just still be the shock, or something.”

He sighed. “Yeah. I’m still dealing with that myself.” Keeping one arm around me, he rolled onto his back, gazing at my angel. “A year,” he murmured. “Jesus, you’re nineteen now. We’re the same age.”

I fell silent, remembering my nineteenth birthday party. How I’d cried so hard that I’d thrown up. Then my gaze fell on the battered work boots lying nearby; Alex had said he’d scavenged them from a dark town.

The explosion at the camp thundered through me again: my voice screaming Alex’s name, my fingers bleeding as I clawed at shards of concrete, the way I’d cradled his shoe as I sobbed.

All because he hadn’t wanted to see the look on my face.

Alex touched my cheek. “Oh god, babe,” he said softly. “I can’t even imagine what this last year has been like for you.”

A great, dark wave was cresting inside me. “It…wasn’t much fun,” I said thinly. “I mean, obviously. But I got through it.”

He raised my hand to his lips and kissed my palm. “I’ll make it up to you, somehow,” he said. “I swear it, Willow. All that matters now is that we’re together again.”

I’ll make it up to you.
I went very still. For a moment I almost felt short of breath. Had he actually just said that? For him to even think it was
possible
…

He’d put me through hell, and he didn’t even know it.

Alex settled back with his arms around me. I could feel that he thought I just didn’t want to talk about it yet. “So what’s been happening back at the base?” he asked. He smiled slightly. “How did Seb finally come to his senses about Meghan, anyway? Last time I talked to him, he wasn’t even close.”

And he looked so relaxed that suddenly I hated him.

“I don’t know,” I said, my voice tightly controlled. “I guess maybe it was when the two of us were kissing a few days ago.”

Alex’s expression drained. He propped himself up on one elbow, staring at me. “You were kissing Seb,” he repeated.

“Yeah, we had to take shelter on the way here.” Who was this person talking, with her hard, deliberate tone? “It was this really romantic setting – a fireplace, a sheepskin rug – and we just fell into each other’s arms. It was so passionate – we couldn’t get enough of each other. I’ve never––”

Hurt anger had come over Alex’s face. “Fine, I get the picture! You totally wanted Seb. So what happened?”

I longed to tell him that we’d spent a night of wild passion on the sheepskin rug. Instead my voice shook as I snapped: “
Nothing!
Because Seb sensed I was still in love with you, that I was using him without even meaning to! And I sensed he’s in love with Meghan.”

Alex lay staring at me. Feeling ashamed and small suddenly, I looked down at the sleeping bag, tracing its seam. “He, um…hasn’t really figured that part out for himself yet. I think that’s why he’s being so rude to—”

“What the hell was
that
about?” Alex interrupted. He gripped my bare shoulder. “Let me get this straight: you’re telling me nothing else happened, because you’re still in love with me.”

I swallowed. “That’s…pretty much what I’m saying, yes.”

“Great – so was there a particular reason you had to tell me that the two of you were all over each other? What a romantic
setting
it was?”

“I thought you’d want to know,” I said levelly.

Alex snorted. “Yeah, I’m overjoyed – thanks for sharing. Jesus, Willow! Seb’s my friend, and right now I want to—” He stopped abruptly; finally he let out a breath and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Look,” he said. “I don’t even know where any of this came from. I don’t want to argue, all right? I get that you must be upset over what’s happened, but—”

Something like a laugh choked out of me. “
Upset?
You told me to trust you and I thought you were dead for a year. But hey, you’re back now, so it’s all good.”

“I
had to go.
I didn’t tell you the truth because—” Alex cut himself off, looking frustrated. “Oh, what’s the point? You already know all of this. It doesn’t seem to make any difference.”

He glanced at my angel’s gleaming form, his jaw tight. “Do you mind? I’ve got to get some sleep. Unless you’ve got any more revelations you’d like to throw at me. Hey, throw them really hard, all right? Bonus points if you knock me out.”

I didn’t tell him about the base. At least I didn’t do that: I didn’t use it as a weapon against him, even though I was so angry and hurt myself that I was trembling.

“No,” I said finally. “No more revelations.” And I brought my angel back to me, and the stage fell into darkness.

“I
STILL CAN
’
T BELIEVE YOU
’
RE
really Alex Kylar.” Scott stood propped against the sink next to Alex; he’d just come into the school on his break. It was nearly dawn – a lantern lit the shadowy boy’s bathroom.

“Yeah, I really am,” Alex said dryly. He stood clad in his jeans as he quickly shaved. The second it was light enough, he, Willow and Seb would start searching for the gate.

“Man, you must have seen so much action. How many angels have you brought down?”

“I stopped keeping track.”

“What was your last count?”

Would this guy never shut up? “Over a thousand.” Alex’s tone was terse.

His reflection looked back steadily from the mirror as if the argument with Willow hadn’t happened. But when he’d woken up, her stiffness had brought it back in excruciating detail. They’d dressed in silence.

Scott whistled. “That is just…epic.”

“Not epic enough – they’re still around,” Alex said curtly. There were other guys in the restroom too; to Alex’s annoyance, they were listening. Great, just what he needed.

He glanced up as Seb walked in.

The other sinks were in use; Scott reluctantly stood up. Seb poured a bucket of steaming water into the basin and hastily stripped off his T-shirt. “Morning,” he said to Alex.

“Morning,” Alex muttered back. He knew he didn’t have much right to mind about the kiss – Christ, they’d both thought he was dead. But leaping straight to acceptance was a little beyond him. He had to fight the urge to slam Seb up against a wall.

Scott was eyeing the
AK
on Alex’s bicep. “I am seriously getting one of those tattoos if we survive this thing. And, dude, is that a
bullet
wound?”

Alex didn’t bother answering. After a few more attempts, Scott gave up and left. One by one the others filtered out too, until only Seb was there. Alex glanced at him as he swiped his face dry.

“Willow told me,” he said.

Seb had been frowning as if there was something on his mind. He glanced up. “Told you what?”

Alex looked at him without speaking.

“Oh.” Slowly, Seb rinsed the soap from under his arms. “
Amigo,
it wasn’t anything,” he said, sounding tired. “It was a mistake; we both knew it right away.”

“Yeah, she told me that too.”

“Did she tell you the rest?” Seb pulled his T-shirt back on; his loose curls appeared. “I’m not in love with her any more,” he said quietly. “I care about her as a friend – that’s all.”

Any other time, the news would have been welcome. Now Alex’s muscles stayed tight; he snapped on his own T-shirt. “No, she kept that one to herself. But, hey, it’s good to go out on a high – I heard you couldn’t get enough of each other.”

Seb looked taken aback. “She said that?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve got a lot to compete with, apparently. Even if you’re not in the running any more.”

Seb’s high-cheekboned face looked conflicted. “This last year has been very bad for her,” he said finally. “But I know she still loves you. The kiss meant nothing, I promise.”

Deep down, Alex knew it wasn’t really the kiss that bothered him. Well, okay, it did, but he’d get over it.

What hurt was how much Willow had wanted to cause him pain.

It was easier to snap back, “Yeah? So why don’t I go make out with Meghan for a while, and you can see how meaningless you think
that
is.”

Seb stiffened. “What does she have to do with this?”

“She’s the one you’re in love with, right?”

Seb’s expression had turned murderous. “I said it was nothing, and I meant it,” he said with icy control. “Do you want me to make up something different? Or are we finished?”

“Yeah, we’re finished,” Alex said in a low voice. He glanced at the window. “It’s almost dawn. Outside in five minutes.”

That day and the next passed in a daze of scanning. Taking the southern side of town, Alex searched for the gate to the angels’ world everywhere he could think of. As he worked, he kept passing people hammering up on roofs – and even if he
wasn’t
psychic, he could feel the tension gripping the town. He worked as fast as he could, urgency pounding through him. But by late afternoon of the second day, he’d only covered about ten blocks.

It wasn’t nearly enough.

“Any luck?” called a voice. Jonah, standing on a ladder built against the side of a house. Alex went over, and Jonah hopped to the frosty ground.

“Not yet,” Alex said. “I don’t know how the others are doing today, though.” It wasn’t true – if either had found something, he was sure they’d have come to tell him.

Jonah’s brown eyes didn’t look as if they missed much. “You don’t think you’re going to find it in time now, do you?” he asked after a beat.

The air bit coldly at Alex’s face. “No,” he admitted.

Jonah nodded slowly as he took in what this meant. Finally he let out a breath and glanced up the home-made ladder. “Want to come take a look? This one’s done; I was just checking it.”

Alex climbed up; the roof was covered with wooden rods nailed at neat intervals. He braced his way up them to the apex. Below, he could see a few streets of houses with bombs attached to their roofs – and then frost-covered fields, with the sunset streaking above. The dying sun was the same red that Willow’s hair used to be.

During these last two days, their exchanges had been perfunctory; mostly he’d caught only glimpses of her. Each time he’d seen her, she’d been searching intently – and when dark had come the night before, she’d helped the builders just as fervently. Finally, around one o’clock in the morning, he’d seen her heading off towards the school with Nina, so tired-looking that he wanted to go after them and take her in his arms.

But he didn’t know what to say – what to do. This cold, angry Willow was nothing like the girl he thought he knew. He hated what had happened as much as she did, but he couldn’t make it
un
happen. What exactly did she want from him?

This is just unreal,
he thought as he gazed out at the fields. Gone for three weeks, then back to find a year had passed…and his girlfriend acting like a stranger.

Jonah joined him, shoving his grey cap back as they looked towards Schenectady. “Part of me wishes the angels would just attack and get it over with,” he said in an undertone.

Alex nodded. For the hundredth time, he wondered what the hell was taking Raziel so long.

“It won’t be much longer,” he said grimly.

Jonah was still gazing towards the Eden. “You know, the only real faith I ever had was in the angels. To lose that was—” He broke off. “But there are still things I believe in,” he added after a moment.

He glanced at Alex. “Remember when we first met? You pulled a gun on me. I thought you were actually going to use it.”

Alex smiled slightly. He’d been carrying the wounded Willow out of the Denver Church of Angels, with no time to spare before the frenzied crowd turned on her again. “I would have, if you’d tried to stop me.”

“At first I was surprised that you’re younger than me, but then I thought – no, he’s older than I’ll ever be. These last couple of years, though…” Jonah lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ve caught up with you.”

“Yeah,” said Alex. “Fighting angels will do that to you.”

They went back down from the roof; Jonah swung himself onto the ladder first. Alex was just about to follow – then stopped mid-motion. There was Willow, searching the next street over.

She hadn’t seen him; she was walking with her gaze fixed in concentration. And suddenly, as he watched, Alex’s throat went tight.

There’d always been a kind of lightness to Willow, even in their worst moments: the sense that unhappiness wasn’t her natural state; that soon she’d be back to her usual serene self. But the way she was walking now, hugging her elbows so tightly…how could he have missed it before?

She looked as if she’d never smiled at all. As if any lightness in her had been buried by months of sorrow.

Willow glanced up and saw him then. She started over; Alex climbed down and hopped to the ground beside Jonah. “Any luck?” she asked as she drew near.

“Nothing,” Alex said. “You?”

She shook her head, glancing up and down the street in frustration. “No, nothing.”

She was too thin, Alex realized suddenly. Oh Christ, that’s why her face looked so different. He’d noticed her thinness the other night, of course, but they’d both had other things on their minds. Now it hit him hard: Willow was naturally slim. If she was thinner, it was because she wasn’t eating enough.

She looked as if she hadn’t eaten enough for a long time.

Even with Jonah standing there, Alex couldn’t help himself: hesitantly, he touched her shoulder. “Willow…” he started.

She glanced at him and then away, her mouth tightening unhappily. “I’d better keep searching while there’s still a little light.” She turned and walked off, still holding her arms. Her small figure in its jeans and parka passed between the houses and was gone.

Alex stood staring after her, Miranda’s words echoing:
She’s been very sad for a long time.
He had a terrible feeling now that this had been the understatement of the century. And he’d
known
that. Jesus, if it had been him, and he’d thought Willow was dead—

Yeah, he’d known it with his head. But he hadn’t let himself think about the reality much, had he?

Alex scraped a hand over his face, aware of Jonah’s quiet, non-judgemental gaze. “Come on,” he said at last. “We’d better go start helping the builders.”

“We won’t find it now.” Willow sat clutching her head. “There’s just no way. We can’t have enough time left.”

It was hours later; Alex was sitting at a table in the school lunchroom, poring over the map with her and Seb. The lantern cast a mocking glow on all the places they’d marked off. Not even half the town yet, and nothing. Around them a few subdued groups sat eating. Awareness was rife now: soon they’d be battling thousands of angels.

Alex massaged his eyes. “Both of you, try to get a little sleep,” he ordered. “The attack could come any time now.”

“There must be something else we can—” Seb broke off as Rachel appeared.

“Seb, could you come look at the way we’ve placed these last few bombs?”

Seb’s face had gone expressionless. He shoved his chair back without looking at her. “Yes, fine.”

Once he’d gone, Willow cleared her throat. “So, I’m going to sleep with Nina again tonight,” she said after a pause.

That hurt, though he should have expected it. As she rose, Alex also got up and touched her arm. “Willow, wait. We’ve got to talk.”

Her face had turned stiff with pain. “Not now,” she said, drawing away. “I’m sorry, Alex; I just can’t. These last few days, all I can think is…”

“What?” he asked softly, his hand still reaching towards her.

She started to say something, then shook her head. “No. I’m not going to do this. I’d only say things I’d regret.”

She left the lunchroom. Alex started to go after her; some instinct warned him to leave her alone. He sank back down, resting his forehead on his fists.

Once he’d started noticing how much Willow had changed, he hadn’t been able to stop. She seemed to get headaches now; several times tonight he’d seen her massaging her head. And her eyes looked so sad – and he didn’t think it was just because things were so tense right now. No, her eyes had the look of someone who hadn’t really smiled in over a year.

What have I done to her?
he thought.

“Hey.” Scott Mason in his letterman’s jacket, swinging himself into the chair opposite. He dug into a bowl of stew with a spoon. “So how does all this compare with the old days of the AKs? What was it like when—”

Alex got up and left. Ignoring everyone he passed, he pushed open the school’s front door and started walking, following the sound of hammers. Within ten minutes, he was up on a roof in the torchlit town square; it was a relief to be working instead of thinking.

He glanced up as someone else appeared: Seb, his expression stormy. Without speaking, he started hammering too.

When there was a pause, Alex glanced over. “You know, it’s not Rachel’s fault she looks like Meghan. So stop taking it out on her.”

Seb lined another dowel into place. “Why should I care who she looks like?”

“Just knock off the bad mood around her. And I thought I told you to get some sleep.”

Seb hammered without answering, slamming the nail in as if he hated it. Alex didn’t push the point. He and Seb kept working, moving across the roof; when they finished that building, they moved on to the next.

Finally Alex felt a hand on his arm. A guy named Mark, raising his voice over the sound of tools. “You two haven’t had a break yet. You said no excuses, remember?”

Alex scraped a tired hand over his eyes. It had to be almost three in the morning. “Yeah,” he said at last. He glanced at Seb. “Same for you.”

Seb looked as if he was going to protest but didn’t. They left in silence.

The sound of activity faded as their footsteps echoed down the street. A question was pounding through Alex’s brain. He didn’t want to ask it, but he had to. He jammed his hands in his jacket pockets.