He was still slumped against the wall, his head carefully turned away from her and lowered towards his chest.
“Mallory!”
His head rose a little, and he raised one of his hands. It was slow, and his movements were clumsy, but growing more sure with every second that passed. He pulled out his hip flask, and with shaking hands, he unscrewed the cap and emptied the whole thing down his throat. When he turned around, he was himself again, with only the faintest suggestion of a new scar on the edge of his jaw. He spotted Alice staring at him. “They don’t go as easily as they used to. Makes me look rugged, right?” he whispered, patting her arm as he reached past and took his guns back from Vin.
“Alright. So that was fun.” He turned back to face the far end of the corridor, a gun in each hand. “Now, let’s find me something to shoot.”
“So, what exactly is the plan here?” Alice asked. “We’re supposed to be stopping them coming in, right?”
“Not exactly,” said Zadkiel. “We want them in.”
“We what?”
“Anyone coming into the priory from this side has to pass through this corridor.”
“Which is why you want to stop them getting into it.”
“No. It’s why we want them in here. It’s a natural bottle-neck. The trick is...”
“...to stop them getting out again.” It made sense. In the corridor, it would only take a few of them to hold it against however many Fallen tried to force their way through. Just as well, because there were six of them. Only six. And they were fish in a barrel.
“So are they, Alice. So are they.”
Alice considered telling Zadkiel that this was not nearly as reassuring as he seemed to think – and to stay out of her head – but she thought better of it. Mostly because the others all looked like they had a plan. And she didn’t.
Behind her, Castor and Pollux had taken up a position on either side of the doorway, barring the exit. Each was holding a long metal pole as tall as he was, taken from a pile of spare roof struts in the corner. “Well, you two look utterly terrifying.”
“And I thought you liked me in uniform,” Castor shot back, making her laugh. “Are you ready?”
“No. Yes. Maybe. Ask me later.”
“It’s no different, you know. No different from the warehouse. No different from any other time.”
“Yes, Castor. It is.” She turned to face forward again.
Mallory was in front of her, cricking his neck from side to side. Just ahead of him was Vin, sleeves rolled up, his weight on his back foot. They were ready. Zadkiel paced across the doorway at the far end, calling back to them.
“Pollux, you two are our last line. Do not let anyone past you. Whatever you have to do, do it.”
“Not a problem.” Pollux shuffled his feet, widening his stance. Alice didn’t think it was going to be a problem: between them, there might as well not have been a doorway at that end.
“Mallory, Vin – I’m going to let as many through as we can get. And then I’m going to shut the door behind them.”
“What door?” Vin piped up.
“This door.” Zadkiel held up his sword.
“Gotcha.”
“Alice?” Zadkiel’s voice was softer, but no less determined. “You take out what you can.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. That and not getting killed. I don’t think Michael would thank me.”
“Screw Michael. Worry about how I’d feel.”
“You can do this, Alice.”
“I know,” she said, and held up her hands. Flames streamed from the wall sconces closest to her into her open palms; fire wound through her hair. “You didn’t say his name,” she whispered, seeing Zadkiel start at the flames.
“What did you say?” His voice was too low for anyone else to hear, but he was looking over her shoulder at Castor.
“You heard me, Zadkiel. Castor. You didn’t say his name.”
“Now you listen to me...” His hand was on her arm, and he was gripping it tightly. She glared at it, and flames skipped across his fingers. He let go. “Stay out of things you don’t understand.”
“Things I don’t understand? You know what I understand? Pain.” The flames flared brighter, hotter, forcing the Archangel back another step.
“This conversation’s over.” He turned his head away from the heat of the fire, but she could still hear him muttering, “Just like Michael,” under his breath.
He reached the doorway, and his hand went up in warning. “Here they come.”
Zadkiel flattened himself back against the wall beside the doorway, and Alice watched as, in spite of the blazing candles and the fire, the shadows around him softened and thickened, wrapping themselves around him, and he was gone.
Except he wasn’t. She could still feel him standing there.
There were footsteps coming from the other end of the corridor. Just one set; slow and cautious. A moment later, a head poked around the doorway. One of the Fallen.
He stepped into the opening, peering ahead of him, and Alice realised that he couldn’t see them – not clearly, at any rate. He kept screwing his eyes closed and twisting his head this way and that... as though he was sure there was someone waiting for him, someone he couldn’t quite make out. Whatever Zadkiel had done to hide himself, it appeared to have covered all of them... at least a little.
The Fallen stopped and sniffed the air, baring his teeth. Like all the Fallen Alice had met, he looked like he had too many, and they were just that little bit too sharp. She watched him sniffing – still turning his head from side to side – and realised she was holding her breath. She let it out... just as the Fallen’s wings snapped open. The blackened spines rattled against one another as he moved, stepping carefully, one slow step at a time, into the corridor.
“Smells like angel...” he hissed, and there was suddenly a crowd of them behind him. Watching. Waiting.
He had almost reached Vin, crouched low.
“They’re close.” The Fallen turned and beckoned to the others behind him, just as Vin exploded up from the floor, grabbing him around the neck and flipping him over, throwing him to the ground.
“You’ve got no idea, mate,” he said, stepping over the dropped Fallen, who was screaming as grey mist wound around his throat, turning his flesh to stone.
Vin shifted from foot to foot, staring down the other Fallen, who had frozen where they stood. “You going to stand there all day, are you?” he jeered, and as one, they took the bait.
The threw themselves into the narrow space with such force that several of them tripped and were almost trampled underfoot, and with a stab of panic Alice saw just how many of them were out there. They streamed through the doorway; charging straight for Vin, who ducked and wove and spun with such speed that Alice could barely follow him. Very few of the first Fallen through got past him; they dropped to the floor with cries and stony thuds.
And the ones who managed to get past – the lucky ones – ran head-first into Mallory, who strode out of nowhere, both guns in his hands and a smile on his face. “Hello, boys,” he said, and then he started shooting.
The sound of the gunshots reverberated along the corridor, deafening Alice. She clamped her hands over her ears and squealed, before remembering that she was supposed to be doing something. The corridor, which had felt so empty only heartbeats before, was suddenly crowded; rammed with bodies in motion. And cold. That cold. They brought it with them, wherever they went, leaching hope and warmth from the air.
The warmth she could do something about, at least.
One of them had got past Mallory. He hadn’t seen her yet, and she understood what Zadkiel had done. They would stay hidden until the Fallen reached them. It was layer upon layer of ambush. There was no mercy, and no retreat.