Natural Born Angel Read online

  “Just a moment,” she said, smiling, then speaking under her breath into her headpiece. When Jacks looked away for a moment, Maddy saw the girl give her the up-and-down. Maddy gave her a look.

  Within seconds the frosted glass doors that led to the offices opened up. Mark’s assistant greeted them, speaking faster than Maddy thought humanly possible, barely pausing even to breathe as they walked at a fast clip past the rows of assistants sitting at their desks outside the Archangels’ offices.

  “Jacks-so-good-to-see-you,” he said, shaking Jackson’s hand. Then, with a big smile, “Maddy-I’m-Max-good-to-finally-meet-you-in-person-they’re-all-waiting-for-you-in-the-conference-room-do-you-want-anything-we’ve-got-waters-and-coffee-in-there-already.”

  “Um,” Maddy said. “Water’s fine?”

  “Great!”

  Jackson started peeling off. “Hey, Max, I’ll just wait in Mark’s office, cool?”

  “Already-have-the-game-on-in-there-for-you,” Max said. “Need-anything-let-Claire-know.” Jacks had described the workings of Mark’s office to Maddy to prepare her, and she remembered that Claire was Mark’s second assistant, who never seemed to leave the desk directly outside his office. Jacks had joked that he’d never even actually witnessed her leaving for so much as a bathroom break.

  Maddy looked desperately at Jacks as he turned away from the conference room.

  “Don’t leave me,” she silently mouthed to him.

  “I have to. This is as far as I can go,” Jackson said sympathetically. “Remember: you’ll be great.” He disappeared down the hallway towards Mark’s massive corner office, leaving Maddy at the mercy of Max.

  “Ready?” Max smiled at her, placing his hand on the steel handle of the opaque glass doors to the conference room.

  Maddy took a deep breath and nodded.

  The doors opened, and Maddy was met by the gaze of over a dozen Angels, mostly men, all in expensive tailored suits. The view, through a wall of tempered glass, looked out on to Beverly Hills and Angel City beyond. The Archangels were arrayed around a long, gleaming, dark wooden table. All waiting for her. The effect of all these flawless Immortals turning their eyes on her was overwhelming. Maddy felt her legs start to fail, but she just kept moving forward, aided by Max. Maddy recognized Mark among the unfamiliar faces. He secreted her an encouraging grin, and then his face flashed back to serious. An older Archangel near her stood up.

  “Our newest star,” he said, flashing a million-dollar smile at her. The Archangel reached forward to shake her hand. “We can’t tell you how glad we are to see you here today.”

  Most of the heads in the room nodded in assent, but Maddy also could see a couple more serious faces among the ranks of the Archangels that didn’t nod so quickly. Or even at all.

  “Please, take a seat,” the Archangel said, motioning to the chair at the head of the table.

  “OK, uh, thanks,” Maddy said, wishing now more than ever that she had her grey hoodie and iPod earbuds to hide behind. OK, uh, thanks?? Could she have sounded any lamer? Why had she ever agreed to any of this? She was starting to bitterly regret her choice. Pure adrenaline filled her veins as she settled in her chair and looked at the prestigious Archangels, the leading lights of the Immortal City, each one famous worldwide, all waiting to hear from her.

  “Here’s-your-water-Maddy-would-you-like-lime?” Max rapidly spat out, filling a glass with ice and pouring Perrier in, finishing it with a lime wedge without waiting for her response.

  Another Archangel spoke up.

  “Madison, my name is Archangel Uriah Steeple. We’ve asked you here today just to speak with you during the preliminary phase, before your training. As we all know, your preparation for the life of a Guardian has been less than standard.”

  “That much is undisputed,” an Archangel with a goatee near the end of the table stated. Maddy thought she recognized him from photos as Archangel Charles Churchson, uncle to Steven and Sierra Churchson, who had been Commissioned with Jacks the year before.

  The others glared at him.

  Archangel Steeple continued undeterred. “But after consulting many of our experts, and conducting some, ahem, tests, there is reason to believe that you may have developed your abilities without even knowing it.”

  Tests? Maddy thought to herself. How could they have conducted tests?

  “In fact, there has been some speculation in the Angel medical community that you might even be able to develop unique features due to your mixed genetic code. Of course, these genes might not express themselves right away. In the same way that you’re still waiting for your wings to come out, much of this will have to be a wait-and-see game.”

  Maddy thought of her recurring nightmare, in which her “wings” turned out to be little more than grotesque, bloody appendages, flopping around uselessly.

  “Mark – I mean, Archangel Godspeed,” Maddy said, “should have been the first to tell you that I’m uncertain of my own Immortal abilities— ”

  “But many of us aren’t,” one of the two female Archangels interrupted. Her hair was a dark lustrous brown, and her voice was rich and warm as she trained her gaze on Maddy. “We are, in fact, certain of what you are. Of what you can become.”

  Archangel Steeple took over again: “You see, with the growing strength of the preposterous, racist anti-Angel movement around Senator Linden, and the way he and his flacks plan to introduce into Congress this dangerous ‘Immortals Bill’, which could threaten to ban Angel activities entirely, we’re quite concerned. Plus, we don’t even know what the Humanity Defence Faction will do next. Those wing-nut HDF activists are constantly persecuting us, led by that crackpot William Beauborg, who won’t rest until he sees us destroyed. So after all the backlash we received following last year’s demon attack, who better to help us launch the new, friendlier face of Angels than the half-human, half-Angel herself? It’s you, Maddy.”

  The dark-haired woman Archangel spoke again: “The fact that your actual background to become a Guardian is not the norm, and some might even say less than ideal, is beside the point, as we think you can quickly adopt the skills necessary to Guardianship.”

  A snort of derision erupted down the table. It was the goateed Archangel again, Charles Churchson. “‘Less than ideal.’ That’s an understatement, Susan. What we need is a strong response to the racist humans and this proposed ‘Immortals Bill’, fringe as it may be. Senator Linden and his allies are proposing they extend the bill not only here in Angel City and the United States, but across the globe. We need to limit access to Guardian services until humans understand what we Angels really are capable of, and how much we’re worth. Launching some kind of half-baked Guardian won’t bring us anything.”

  “Charles, we agreed you’d keep your minority opinions to yourself during this meeting,” Mark stated, anger edging his voice.

  “Oh, come off it, Mark,” a different Archangel said, his voice booming. “You can’t silence everyone.”

  The room erupted into argument. Max stood very uncomfortably near the glass doors.

  Maddy looked at the squabbling Archangels. Blood flushed her face. She found she was getting angry. A newfound strength filled her.

  She stood up from her chair.

  All eyes turned to her as the Archangels slowly quietened down.

  “If you didn’t think I had what it took to be a Guardian, why did you ask me to start training in the first place?” Maddy said. “I don’t know what Angel abilities I have, or will have. I can’t say when my wings will come, or even what they’re going to look like. I can’t even say if I’m going to like being a Guardian. But I can say that the reason I want to become a Guardian is to protect the ideal of doing one’s duty, to help mankind.”

  Maddy’s eyes scanned the room, anger loosening her tongue. She felt like she’d been tricked, swindled into coming somehow. Reaching in her pocket, she p
ulled out her father’s Divine Ring. She felt like she was watching herself in third person.

  “I know that even though most of the Archangels during the Troubles have since resigned, some of you could have been against my father and mother, what they stood for, and are probably against me now. But I know that this Immortal Ring should mean the same for everyone in this room – even if they are a jerk. And I believe in what it means, too.” Maddy put the ring back in her pocket, her hand shaking. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have more important things to do with my time than get insulted.”

  And with that, Maddy turned and walked out the glass doors, leaving the roomful of stunned, silent Archangels behind.

  She was stone silent in the passenger seat as Jacks rumbled down Melrose back towards the heart of Angel City. She didn’t notice the tourists, the oversized billboards with beautiful Angels splayed across them hawking their wares, the palm trees, the boutique stores, all moving past the car windows outside. She felt Jacks steal a glance at her. He started to say something, but then thought better of it.

  She finally broke the silence, her fingers tensely digging into the supple leather of the seat. “Oh my God, Jacks, what have I done?”

  Jacks looked over at her in sympathy.

  “I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad.”

  “Jacks. I told an Archangel he was a jerk.”

  “Oh.” Jacks’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. He took a left and burned up La Cienega towards the Halo Strip.

  Maddy let out a long breath. In approximately ninety seconds she had destroyed whatever chance she’d had of becoming a Guardian. She was truly surprised to find that she was sad.

  It was now too late to join Northwestern this term. In fact, she wasn’t even sure they would let her have a place there at all, since she had given up her spot at the very last minute. She might even have to reapply everywhere. In the meantime, maybe she could start some classes at Angel City Community College, which was in a squat grey cement block building within walking distance of Kevin’s house. A far cry from the leafy campus she was envisioning in the plush suburbs outside Chicago. She wondered if Kevin would let her start picking up shifts again, even though the new waitress was doing such a good job.

  Maddy’s phone buzzed in her bag. She was almost afraid to check it.

  “You don’t have to get that right now if you don’t want to,” Jacks said, eyeing Maddy with concern.

  “I might as well get it over with,” Maddy said. She reached in her bag, pulling out the phone. Her stomach flipping, she looked down at the screen.

  It was a text from Mark.

  It read: “You’re in.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Darkness reigned along the Angel City street, an unnatural quiet whispering in the fronds of the palms as they rustled in the night above. A block or two away, the occasional car would pass along the sleepy streets, its headlights brightly burning before leaving the night to its darkness and silence. Two streetlamps cast a hard orange glare on the street at the end of the block, and a crisp white security light shone right in front of the building. The rest was shrouded in darkness.

  The darkened palms, shifting softly back and forth with the warm night wind, were the only witness to the two dark figures that crept silently towards the offices.

  Without exchanging a word, they moved quickly along the pavement, passing the thick glass doors of the impressive building and heading to a service door off to the side. One, slightly shorter, carried a boxlike object under his arm. Both wore dark masks that covered most of their faces. Etched perfectly on the glass façade of the structure were the words ANGEL ADMINISTRATION AFFAIRS.

  The two paid no attention to the lights still on in the fourth-floor offices. With complete precision, the two dark figures worked in concert. The first placed the metal box on the ground, opening it slightly. His hands reached inside, his fingers working quickly at some unknown task. The other stepped to the service door. Looking back and forth first, he pressed a gun-like object to the steel door. He pulled the trigger. The device obliterated the door’s metal lock. The THWOOMP of the mechanism echoed into the night. But then all was quiet.

  The figure crouched at the box turned to look up at his partner by the door. The latter nodded slightly. Closing the box, the squatting figure carefully lifted it under his shoulder once again and moved to the door. He waited.

  The man with the gun device holstered it and then placed the palm of his hand flat against the steel of the door, softly. He pushed with the slightest of pressure, and the door swung easily open, its hinges squeaking slightly.

  The two quickly stepped across the threshold into the pitch-black hallway beyond the door. Two criss-crossing torch beams disappeared into the dark belly of the building.

  The alarm began, a high drone. It carried through the quiet night. A dog began howling in response, followed by another. Slowly, lights began to flicker on in the occasional apartment down the street: someone peering suspiciously out of the window, only to think better of it. An elderly man with insomnia opened his door and craned his head to look towards the source of the droning alarm.

  Nearly a minute after disappearing into the doorway, the two figures emerged from the dark interior of the building, the alarm still insistently wailing. Neither was carrying the box any more – it had been left inside.

  When later questioned by the Angel City Police Department, the only thing the sole witness – a paralegal who had come downstairs to stretch his legs and get some fresh air – could say for certain about the events was that he had seen two shapes moving across the street. The rest was unclear – he hadn’t been wearing his glasses, after all. Those had been sitting on his desk up on the fourth floor, where his entire team and an outside group of temp workers had been working late into the night to meet a deadline for the Angel lawyers. There were at least a hundred and thirty-five workers on the floor. The overtime pay was good, the witness explained tearfully.

  Quickly scanning the street to check if it was clear, the two dark figures moved at a trot down the pavement towards a residential neighbourhood. Reaching the corner of the dark residential street, they went separate ways without a word, one turning right towards Beverly, the other going left towards Melrose.

  The street was once again abandoned, the alarm wailing over an empty scene.

  A security guard who had been drowsing in his old silver Toyota Corolla finally woke to the noise of the alarm. Sputtering and muttering, the overweight guard drew himself up out of the reclined driver’s seat and opened the car door.

  “Goddammit,” he cursed under his breath as he collected himself. How long had he been napping? It couldn’t have been that long. But now the alarm was going off – this could mean his job. Scanning the street, everything seemed normal except for the alarm. He fumbled for his long torch and flipped it on. Stepping down the pavement, he walked under the towering glass façade of the building. He reached the glass front doors and checked them. They were still locked snugly tight. The guard’s brow cinched in concentration. He shined the light slowly inside the glass of the doors, its beam moving back and forth across the lobby, but he could see no movement.

  He felt at his waistband but couldn’t find the keycard for the side door into the lobby. Must have left it in the car. So, reaching to his waist, he pulled up a huge steel ring that had at least two dozen keys attached to it. Narrowing his eyes, the guard began going through the keys. He tried one, and then another, but none of them fitted. Exasperated, he continued looking through the keys for the right one, then thought better of it.

  Dropping the ring back to his side, he started stepping carefully through the short, manicured bushes that edged the front of the building, shining his light through the glass inside. The beam shone weirdly into the dark, empty building, reflecting off the shiny floor of the minimalist lobby, casting fractured, monumental shadows.

&nbs
p; Suddenly the searching beam found something out of place, only a metre inside the glass wall.

  “What the hell?” the guard muttered to himself, looking at the black metal box through the glass. Scratching his head, the guard walked back to the front doors. He pulled the huge ring of keys from his pocket and began searching for the right one. He tried one. Not right. He cursed. Tried another. This one didn’t fit either.

  The legal workers from the fourth floor started emerging from the stairwell into the dark lobby, which was illuminated by flashing alarm lights. Bleary-eyed from too much work and too little sleep, they stumbled into the lobby, grumbling, dozens of them.

  “Must be another false alarm,” a man with a stained white shirt and a brown tie complained under his breath. “Should have just stayed upstairs with Phil and the others.”

  Many of the office workers just stood in the lobby, yawning, waiting for the alarm to be reset, looking at the vending machines. There’d been two false alarms in the past month. Some of the workers had begun exiting the building through the side door with their keycards to get a bit of fresh air before heading back up to their late shift. They stood outside, just feet away from the sheer glass walls of the building, the ANGEL ADMINISTRATION AFFAIRS lettering just above their heads.

  The alarm continued to drone.

  Then, in a panic, the security guard began yelling at the workers, rushing towards them with his torch.

  “Move! Move! Get away!” the guard shouted. “For God’s sake, mo— ”

  Before he could finish his sentence, he was incinerated in a hellish firestorm of flame and glass.

  The front of the lobby exploded outwards on to the street in an enormous, ballooning orange cloud as the bomb detonated. The forty or so people just inside the doors never even knew what happened as they were instantly reduced to fiery ashes. The entire glass façade with the ANGEL ADMINISTRATION AFFAIRS lettering burst outwards in the fire of the bomb, and the force of the inferno instantly pulverized those unfortunates still standing on the pavement. Light from the flames reflected off the millions of shards of glass as they shattered, falling like razor-sharp snowflakes, tinkling, along with whatever remained of the dead office workers, on to a row of burning parked cars. Flames from the cars licked angrily at the sky, roiling black smoke and fire up into the dark.