Read Blood and Feathers Online

Authors: Lou Morgan

Tags: #Urban Fantasy

Blood and Feathers (18 page)

A smile spread thickly over Purson’s face “Maybe you are. After all, Lilith got away from you, didn’t she?”

“Did she? Really? Huh. I must have missed that. I guess it was all the dust blowing in my eyes – you know, from when Mallory blew her away.”

“You should show some respect. Remember who you’re talking about.” Purson’s fingers were walking across the knives. Vin tried not to look.

“We are talking about the same Lilith, right? Not all that bright, bit of a sulker... and, let’s face it, she’s not exactly statuesque, is she? Oh, whoops. Poor choice of words there. My bad.”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you? All this talk. It spills from your lips like lava. I wonder what will happen when I take your tongue?”

“Mate, I’m sorry. I got totally the wrong end of the stick. I had no idea: you and her...
wow
. Now I get it. You guys – completely made for each other.” Vin paused and took a deep breath, tensing every muscle. “You’re both as stupid as each other, and frankly, the only person who could love a face like Lilith’s is the poor bastard with a worse one.”

Even though he was expecting it, the knife hurt. Purson drove it between his ribs and twisted it – first one way, then another. The blade was hot and cold and felt like forever. The Fallen didn’t bother to remove it, instead holding up his hands and pointing to the case.

“You can keep that one. I’ve got plenty.”

The next knife grazed his collarbone, and Vin felt the bone snap as the metal forced its way through. The third almost cost him an eye. The room began to mist, but Purson slapped him awake.

“No, you don’t. I’ve got lots of treats in store for you – don’t want you to miss a thing.”

It was going to be a very, very long evening.

 

 

“Y
OU WANT ME
to go
down
there? Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“You know what? At this point, that doesn’t even surprise me,” Alice said.

Mallory shrugged. “Of course it doesn’t. You’ve known all along that’s what you would have to do.”

“Some of my old tutors would agree with you. Mr Thomas always told me I was headed straight for hell. Express train, no waiting.”

“And what did Mr Thomas teach?”

“Religious studies. According to which, you should be sitting on a cloud strumming a harp and playing frisbee with your halo.”

“In which case I don’t think we need to take his word as gospel, do we?”

“I see what you did there. Clever.”

“I can be, on occasion. But I meant it, Alice. You’re necessary.”

“You’re not going to tell me it’s my destiny or something, are you? Because, honestly, I don’t think I can take that. I might have to go and throw up.”

She looked so serious that Mallory couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He shook his head. “There’s no such thing as destiny, Alice. The Fallen will tell you otherwise, because they want you to feel helpless; same for everyone. It’s where their power comes from. But there’s no stone tablet engraved with your future, no sand-timer to tell you when your number’s up. There’s only the choices
you
make.”

“So I have to choose to walk into hell?”

“Yes.”

“And why would I be insane enough to do that?”

“In time you’ll understand, Alice. In time.”

Mallory lifted his flask to his lips and gulped down what must have been half its contents. Alice raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing.

The light was fading. In the distance, the streetlights glowed deep orange; the cars’ headlights sparkled and bumped their way down the road. The wind smelled of leaves, of moss and bonfires – and Alice felt her heart skip. But it was only the wind. There were no angels there, and it frightened her when she realised that she was almost disappointed. Maybe she would be mad enough to do it; to walk into hell unbidden and unbound... after all, everything else around her seemed to be falling into madness. And she didn’t care. In fact, she wasn’t sure that she didn’t like it.

As they approached the twins’ building, she found her feet dragging, something slowing her pace. An itch somewhere behind her eyes, a crawling sensation beneath her skin. Something was wrong.

“Mallory?”

“What is it?” He stopped, just ahead of her, his gun in his hand. It shone like fire in the artificial light.

“I don’t... there’s just...” She couldn’t finish the words. Her skin had suddenly grown several sizes too small, catching her and crushing her...

The sound of shattering windows made them both look up, and Mallory swept her to the ground, leaning over her and covering her with his body as they were showered with glass and metal. It rained down on them for what could only have been moments – it felt like eternity – and as he helped her to her feet, he pointed up.

“Look.”

Smoke was pouring from the top-floor flat, oozing over the balconies and out of the broken windows – and someone was standing outside, just behind the balcony rail and looking down at them. Whoever it was, the figure hefted something heavy and large to shoulder height, and then tossed it over the edge. A handful of dirty-grey feathers fluttered over the rail after it.

It fell, and it landed with a sound Alice never wanted to hear again. And then her world exploded.

The pain was so vicious it knocked her to her knees, shook the breath from her body. Fire raged up and down her limbs, over her shoulders and back; flames lapped at her throat and chin in waves. Everything was red – inside, outside, the whole world. It bled and it burned and it
hurt
.

She could sense Mallory standing beside her and she threw out her arm, feeling along the pavement for him. There was a sudden smell of melting tar; a sound of cracking concrete. “Help him. Please.”

He left her side, and through the blur she saw him crouch beside Vin’s body. If she hadn’t been able to feel it, she would have thought he was dead. But there was no mistaking this. From very far away, she heard Mallory’s voice and saw him shifting around Vin, who slowly lifted his head. It was working, but the pain didn’t recede. The fire showed no sign of burning itself out, and it was only as Mallory slumped to the ground himself that she remembered. Mallory would feel that same pain that Vin had... and so would she, all over again.

Every inch of her blazed: with pain, with fire and smoke and heat. It swallowed her whole, buried itself in her mind and took control. There was nothing beyond it, not the pavement, not the building, not the angel who stood over her, driven back by the flames. She opened her mouth to cry out, but only sparks came, drifting away on the darkening air. And then there were two of them beside her, both the Earthbounds, their hands on her shoulders, lifting her... and the fire was gone. As quickly as it had overrun her, the pain was gone. In its place, there was a hollowness and a faint ringing in her ears. The streetlight arced above her and cool hands pulled her down into darkness.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

Bullseye

 

 

S
HE COULD TELL
where she was from the smell alone. Opening one eye, she saw the damp-stained ceiling, and opening the other, she saw Mallory sitting on a chair not far away, rifling through the pile of papers on his lap and smiling at her wanly.

“Wotcher,” he said, touching his hand to his temple in mock-salute. He sat back and crossed one leg over the other, dropping the pages on the floor beside him. “This is getting to be a habit, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know,” she said, sitting up. The sofa was back-achingly familiar. “There was the time I woke up in a bed. With sheets and a pillow and everything.” Her arms felt sore; the skin tender and bruised. “What happened?”

“What do you remember?”

“Not much. We were outside the gate and I just felt... odd. Then the windows blew out, I think, and there was... something. Falling.”

“That would be Vin.”

“Vin?”

“He had a run-in with one of the Twelve.”

“Is he alright?”

“He is now. But he wasn’t exactly in the best shape. Not surprising, given that he was tortured half to death and then dropped out of a ninth-storey window.”

“Jesus.” Alice’s hand flew to her mouth.

“He’s fine, Alice. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed. We’re tougher than we look, remember – but he was in a lot of pain. Which brings us to you.”

“Did I?”

“And then some. I think the best word would be ‘exploded.’ You melted the road. I was actually pretty impressed.” He smiled, but his face clouded again. “It made me realise something though: we need to think about getting you some control over it. Can’t have you spending the rest of your life burning up every time someone breaks a leg.... What?” He tailed off, seeing the expression on her face. She was frowning at him, her ams folded across her body.

“I thought you’d be more worried about making sure I can do whatever it is I’m supposed to be doing.”

“Alice, what do you think I am?” He scooted forward and crouched in front of the sofa. “I told you: you’re necessary. Whether you like it or not, you’re in the middle of this and there’s no getting away from it. But there’s a bigger picture – there’s always a bigger picture – and that’s how you live with this gift. You have to make your peace with who you are, and accept what it means. Otherwise, whatever happens, you’ll never be able to get on with the rest of your life.”

“Assuming I have a life, right? I thought there was some kind of cosmic bullseye on my back?”

“You’re just a bag of sunshine, aren’t you?”

“I’m not sure I understand what I’m supposed to do.”

“You have to be willing to take control of it, to own it –
all of it
.” He placed a curious emphasis on the last three words, and Alice stared blankly at him. He met her eyes, then suddenly looked away. “And I know just the place to start.” His gun was lying on the table in front of her, and he picked it up, spinning it around his palm.

It was only then that Alice noticed what was missing: people. There was no sign of Gwyn, of Jester and Florence or Vin. It was just the two of them.

“Where are they all? What happened to the twins? Were they in there?”

“You don’t need to think about it, Alice. There’s other things that need your attention.”

“What
happened
to them?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed, pulling the slider of the Colt back and peering at it. “Vin’s gone looking for them. He thinks they were taken – provided they lived.”

“And Gwyn?”

“Oh, he’s around. A little tied up at the moment, but he’ll be back and breathing down my neck again before you know it. Enjoy the break.” His gun went back under his jacket and the hip flask came out. Alice cleared her throat. “Is that wise?”

“Is what wise?” he asked, the flask pausing on its way to his lips. She nodded at it, and he glanced down, then laughed flatly, downing the contents. “Probably not,” he said as he screwed the lid back on and dropped it into his pocket. “This is where it gets hard.”

“And you said I’m being cheerful? Great. What now?”

“Now you start learning how to stay alive.”

 

 

“Y
OU WON’T LIKE
this,” he warned her as they rounded the corner.

They were at the far end of the cemetery, fields, trees and graves the only things around them. Mallory seemed edgy, passing his gun from hand to hand as he walked. Alice followed, numbly. Something in her had changed. She had lied to him, of course. She remembered the fire; how it had burned the world around her down to a small, bright sphere of pain. The memory of it itched inside her flesh. Mallory was talking, but his voice floated past unnoticed. She had felt Vin’s pain – not at a distance, not filtered and faded, but as sharp and clear as if it were her own. It turned her stomach, even now. And the flames... so fast and hard and hungry. She shrugged the thought away, then stopped dead in her tracks.

Ahead of them was a large tree. It was obviously old. One of the first trees to be planted in the cemetery, maybe, or maybe it was there first, the graves slotted in around it. You didn’t tend to argue with trees that size. If you did, you couldn’t expect it to end well. And tied to it, his arms stretched back around the mass of the trunk, was a man. He looked familiar, and Alice’s mind jumped back to the Halfway to Heaven, the grainy photographs there, and then she caught sight of a flash of white at his wrist and she knew. Not a man: a Fallen.

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