“You, young Angels, have our blessing,” he said simply, his voice booming through the loudspeakers and in-to the Temple.
The crowd began applauding. On-screen Gabriel returned to his seat in the shadows with the rest of the Council. The screens faded to black again. The lights went up and the applause quieted as Mark rose from his seat and ascended the stairs to the stage, approaching the altar and the microphone on a slim stand. Mark adjusted it and stole a look at Jacks before beginning.
“Before us is the next class of Guardians, those who are about to swear their lives and Immortal abilities to serve their Protections under the NAS. Each one of them has fulfilled their training and proved ready to take on this greatest of responsibilities: that of another’s life.”
Mark began calling each of the other nominees up one by one, swearing them in as Guardians and presenting them with their Divine Rings. Jackson sat in wait, knowing he probably would be last. He was surprised to find his pulse beginning to beat harder as they reached the end: he was nervous. Mark’s voice seemed to be in a distant tunnel as he called each of the remaining Angels up, including Steven and Sierra. At last all the other Angels had been announced, received their rings, and sat down again.
Mark turned to Jacks.
“This is the best and the brightest we have to offer.
Jackson Godspeed represents the best in us. He is not only one of the most talented and powerful Angels, but is an Angel dedicated to the ideals of the Council and the NAS.” The Archangels in the front rows nodded in approval. “Step up here, please.”
Jacks stood and walked toward his stepfather. Everyone in the Temple seemed to hold their breath in delicious anticipation as he stepped to the altar to be Commissioned at long last. His footfalls echoed in the suddenly silent auditorium.
“Jackson Godspeed,” Mark began, “do you offer yourself in the service of mankind?”
Jacks looked into Mark’s eyes. He knew the vows by heart.
“I do,” he said.
“Do you swear to keep safe, at all times, those under your protection?”
“I do,” Jacks said.
“Do you take this burden of your own free will, to do this good work on this Earth?”
“I do.”
Mark picked up the ring and slipped it on Jacks’s finger. “I commission you Guardian Jackson, of the Godspeed Class.”
Jacks could feel the weight of it. He looked down and watched it glimmer on his finger. It was all he had ever wanted. The ring of a Guardian. The ring of a hero. A close-up of the ring on his finger towered, sparkling, on the two screens behind them. In a moment Mark would read the names of the Protections, and Jacks’s destiny would finally begin.
“Congratulations, Jackson,” Mark said. “Turn and be recognized.”
Jacks didn’t move.
He stood very still. His mind had suddenly been transported far away from his stepfather before him, from the other new Guardians, from the crowd, from the Commissioning. His face blanched white. His eyes became unseeing and distant.
“Jackson?” Mark said, his face darkening in concern.
The entire Temple sat in charged silence, waiting.
“Jacks?” Kris said, getting up from her chair.
What occurred next happened so quickly it could not be seen. The glass in the windows of the Temple rippled like water — like a wave moving from the front of the hall to the back — and then exploded. Stained glass rained down on the crowd like multicolored diamonds as the doors to the temple were blown open. Wind howled down the aisle, vicious and twisting like jet wash. The crowd outside fell to the ground, some of them covering their ears in pain.
Mark looked up from the floor of the stage, where he had been knocked over.
Jacks had flown out of the Temple and was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Maddy’s eyes snapped open. Her head spun, throbbing with an unknown pain. Stumbling backward, she felt something hard and cold cut into her back. She reached behind her and felt its smooth surface.
The light pole.
In front of her shone the headlights of two approaching cars. Where was she? And what was happening? Fragments of memories swirled in her mind. The party. Talking with Ethan. And kissing him? Had that really happened?
Then there was some boy named Simon, and. .
“They’re. . racing,” she whispered to herself. It wasn’t a statement of fact so much as the recollection of a memory. Like trying to piece together the remnants of a fleeting dream. The headlights grew closer. The cars swerved. She thought she could hear someone laughing.
What the hell is going on?
She forced her mind to function. She had left the party, she had been walking home, and — A single, terrifying idea rapidly emerged, slicing through all the other muddled thoughts like a shriek.
The Range Rover.
It all came back in a rush. The impact, the sound of her bones breaking, the way the SUV’s grill felt as it embed-ded itself inside her. It was all too real to be imagined, too horrific to be make-believe. There was only one possible explanation.
She’d had another premonition. The grisly vision was the most intense she had ever experienced. Because it was her own.
Watching the headlights bear down on her, Maddy suddenly knew one thing more absolutely and completely than she had known anything in her entire life: she had just foreseen her own death. And unless she did something in the next second to change the outcome of events, she was, without any doubt, going to die.
Light blazed at her, but from the other direction now.
She snapped her head around and saw the headlights of the Range Rover. There it was, like the carriage of death itself.
Like the reaper’s coach. The SUV’s horn roared, and she watched helplessly as it swerved in her direction and the tires jumped the curb. With almost detached clarity, Maddy knew it was already too late. It was over for her, and there was nothing left to do but watch it happen. Once again she saw her reflection in the windshield, but this time her face wasn’t surprised, or even horror stricken. It was strangely calm. Peaceful even. She closed her eyes and waited for the impact.
She was hit hard.
Pain shot through her body, but not from the direction she was expecting. Whatever struck her didn’t feel like the grill of the SUV. What it felt like simply didn’t seem possible.
It felt like a hand.
The next thing Maddy knew, she was lying on the pavement looking sideways across the road as the Range Rover plunged into the light pole. The scream of collapsing metal filled the air as the hood exploded, sending deadly pieces of car and windshield tearing through the night. The back end of the Rover jumped off the pavement, fishtailed around, and sailed in her direction.
“No,” commanded a voice above her. A voice? There was a sound like a hole hammered straight through the night, a flash of all-encompassing white light, and then, silence. When Maddy opened her eyes, what she saw was beyond anything she could have possibly imagined.
The world had frozen.
Everything had just stopped. It was as if Maddy had been watching a movie of her death and had simply pressed pause. The Range Rover hovered in front of her with its back end off the ground like some kind of automotive ballerina. Pieces of exploded hood and windshield swam like a sea of destruction all around her. Shards of broken glass hung like twinkling stars. The world held its breath, poised on the knife tip of time, and waited.
Maddy lifted her gaze. In the hard cast of the streetlamp she thought she could make out the silhouette of a figure crouched over her, shielding her with his body, holding onto her hand. Pain was radiating through her now, dimming her already reeling consciousness. She felt her eyes 3start to close again, but just before they did, she looked at the silhouette and thought she could make out the distinctive outline of wings.