... she hoped.
The policeman tucked his baton into his belt and lifted the visor of the helmet, pulling the whole thing off his head and letting it fall to the ground. Everything except for his eyes was hidden behind black wool. He yanked his hands out of his gloves, throwing them away too, and grabbed the front of his balaclava, pulling it up and back until she could see him clearly.
Xaphan.
“You.”
“Me.” He flashed her a shark-like grin, and suddenly his hand was moving to his belt – and before Alice could blink, the baton smashed into the side of her head, sending her stumbling sideways. She hit the ground hard, and pain flared from her hip to her shoulder as she rolled, fire dancing across the tips of her fingers. She swallowed the pain down, held the fire back and sat up. Black stars burst behind her eyes and the world began to sound tinny and far away. A foot came down on the back of her hand as she tried to push herself up.
She tried again, but her legs felt weak. A knock to the side of her head added bright red suns to the black stars dancing in front of her. She blinked hard, shook her head.
And then, swimming into view, a scarred face and a too-wide smile leaning over her.
“You were looking for me, weren’t you? Here I am.” He tossed the baton aside.
Alice recoiled, but Xaphan simply grinned harder and clamped a hand around the back of her head, reaching out with his other to stroke her hair. “Now, now. You don’t have to be like that. I thought we were friends. How do you like our party?” he asked, turning his head away from her and surveyed the crowd. “It’s quite something, isn’t it? And this... this is only the beginning.”
Something slipped over Alice’s head, around her neck, and pulled tight.
Alice gagged and swatted at Xaphan, but it was no use. Fire blazed up around her hands and throat, weaving through her hair like ribbons, but Xaphan just laughed.
“I thought we were past all this, Alice! You know me, and I know you. You’ll always try and burn your way out of everything.” He leaned closer, brushing her hair aside and whispering into her ear. “And I won’t let you.” She could feel his breath on her neck. He smelled of oil and soot, and something faintly metallic. “What is it that fire needs to burn? Oh, yes. Air.”
Everything was fading: the street, the world and the fire with it. The pain in Alice’s throat had faded to a dull throb, and her lungs felt like they were full of water. Through the sound of her heart hammering in her ears, Alice was almost sure she heard Xaphan humming a tune.
The black stars were spreading across her field of vision, shutting out everything else. There was only darkness, and her pulse starting to slow, and the world was so very, very far away.
With a roaring sound, everything exploded into focus. Air rushed back into her lungs, forcing its way down her aching throat. Alice coughed and flames blazed across her skin.
Blinking as the world came back into focus, she saw Xaphan being thrown into the crowd by an Earthbound in riot gear, his grey, foreshortened wings twitching as he moved. Xaphan snarled, but the Earthbound simply pointed at him, glaring from behind his helmet. The Fallen scowled, spat in his direction and vanished into the crowd.
The Earthbound turned back to Alice and dropped to his knees beside her, pulling off his helmet and balaclava. It was Castor, the angel from the warehouse.
“We really need to stop meeting like this,” he said with a grin.
“Nice outfit,” Alice croaked. Her throat felt like someone had poured paint stripper down it. “Aren’t you a little old for dress-up?”
“Who’s dressing up? I’ll have you know this is for real!” He stroked the front of his uniform, looking offended.
“You’re a police officer. Seriously.”
“What the fuck else am I going to do with myself?” he asked, holding out a hand. “Can you stand?”
“One way to find out.” She let him help her up as the flames burned out, trying to decide which she wanted to recover first: her dignity or her balance. She went for balance. She wasn’t sure dignity was an option. “Where did he go?”
“The Fallen? No idea.”
“You know who that was, don’t you?”
“Do I look like I was born yesterday? Right now, I’ve got bigger problems than Xaphan. I’ve got a full-scale riot, and three officers separated from the line. If we don’t get them back, this lot’ll tear them apart. You need to get out of here.”
“People keep telling me that.”
“Maybe once in a while you should listen, yeah?” Castor was already walking away from her, pulling the balaclava back over his face.
And she would have answered, except that when she turned around, Toby was standing directly behind her, his eyes wide. Their eyes met and he took a step back from her.
“I came looking for you. I came back for you.”
“Toby.”
“What was that? You... you were burning. But you’re fine... Look at you. You’re fine.” He waved a hand at her, oblivious to everything else. “How’s that even possible?”
“I can explain... well. Not explain, maybe, but...”
“I don’t... What’s happening? What is this? What’s happening, Alice?”
She already knew she’d lost him. It didn’t matter what she said or didn’t say; he was looking at her like she was a monster or a miracle.
She didn’t have time to plead with Toby, or to tell him to go. She didn’t even have time to tell him that this wasn’t – any of it – what he thought. But the look on his face told her: whatever she said, it would never be enough.
She didn’t have time; as she opened her mouth to speak, the smell of incense filled the air, and a single gunshot rang out.
Alice’s head whipped round.
Mallory.
ALICE NO LONGER heard or saw anything around her. The smoke and the gas were forgotten. The Fallen were brushed aside, and the memory of Toby faded from her mind until it was less than a shadow. All these things were nothing compared to the thought racing through her head.
Mallory’s back.
She craned her neck, but all she saw was the remnants of the riot. The sound of the shot might as well have gone entirely unheard for all the reaction it got: it was as though no-one had heard it at all. Perhaps, she thought, remembering Zadkiel’s presence, nobody had.
Nobody but her.
She turned on the spot, but there was no sign of him, and so absorbed was she in looking for Mallory that she didn’t even notice Toby was gone.
From somewhere down the road, she caught the scent again; that smell of incense... and now she could feel him. Feel his anger at the chaos, feel his determination... and something else. Not fear, exactly; concern? He was nervous, certainly. Not afraid, but...
Slowly at first, and then with increasing confidence, Alice made her way down the street.
The crowd was less dense here; there was no attack, only retreat. Some were walking, some were running. Several were limping, bleeding heavily. One man had his arm slung around another’s shoulder, leaning on him for support. Others jogged backwards, jeering and raising their middle fingers at the rest of the crowd, at the police. Alice passed a couple sitting on the edge of the kerb, their heads in their hands, sobbing. She sympathised. Keeping a lid on her gift, on the all-encompassing desire to burn out the pain and the confusion of the crowd, had left her exhausted. It was all she could do not to sit down beside them and sob with them.
None of these people knew what had really happened here, that they had been sucked into the front line of the fight between the angels and the Fallen. The Fallen had pushed their buttons, had manipulated and twisted them, and the angels had turned up to put a stop to it.