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My eyes met Alex’s; I knew we were both remembering the dancing crowd in my dream. A terrible sense of inevitability came over me – déjà vu times a hundred. Just like when I’d realized that I had to go to the Church of Angels in Schenectady, to try to help Beth. The comparison wasn’t comforting, when the entire congregation had tried to kill me and I’d only barely escaped.
“So,” said Alex finally. He faced forward again, lifting his voice as the traffic started to move. “I guess we should go check it out. ” I could tell he was thinking about his gun, and how many cartridges he had left.
I cleared my throat. “Yeah,” I called back. “I guess we should. ”
A convertible filled with people wearing angel wings passed by, honking. We turned onto the same road they did, leading to one of the streets that bordered the Zócalo. I stared as the square came into view, taken aback by how accurate my dream had been. The Zócalo was huge, with people streaming by the thousands into its broad expanse.
And just like in my dream, a stage had been set up at the cathedral end of the square, bathed in floodlights. There were food stands, and vendors moving through the crowd selling angel wings, holding them up in feathery white clusters like giant dandelion heads.
It didn’t look as if you were supposed to park on the streets surrounding the square, but people were doing it anyway. Alex pulled over too, angling the Shadow alongside a car. We got off the bike. We were in front of the long, official-looking building from my dream, with the cathedral rising up to our right. I stiffened as I took off my helmet – there were three angels gliding over the square.
Alex checked his pistol, concealing it between his body and the parked car. I felt him shifting through his chakra points, so that when he turned around again his gaze found the angels as easily as I had. “Okay,” he said, regarding them grimly. “Any idea what we should do next? Was there anything else in your dream?”
The only thing in my dream I hadn’t told him about was the strange boy, and my reaction to him – it had just seemed too weird to mention. I shook my head, watching the angels as they hunted. I knew if Alex were here on his own he’d be slipping into the crowd to kill all three if he could, before they started feeding.
“Don’t let me hold you back,” I said, looking up at him. “I’m serious. ”
He let out a breath; I could see the conflict in his blue-grey eyes. Still studying the square, he put his arm around me. “No, I’m not going to leave you on your own with angels around. ”
“Alex, it’s okay. I can take care of myself. ”
“Your angel self can,” he agreed. “But until you learn how to shoot, your human self is so vulnerable it gives me nightmares. Willow, all it would take would be two angels ganging up on you, and they’d rip your life force away. ”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. Okay, I didn’t exactly have an answer for that.
Alex squeezed my hand, then glanced at the roof of the parked car behind us. “Come on. Let’s sit up here where we can keep an eye on things; see why your psychic powers brought us here. ”
He vaulted nimbly onto the car’s hood and then the roof, leaning over to help me up. Plenty of people around us were doing the same, though presumably in their case the cars in question were their own. Some had even brought coolers full of beer and food, as if the concert were a giant Fourth of July picnic. The night was mild – apparently the weather here was like a perpetual springtime.
Trying to ignore the angels, I stared out at the square, with its buildings that looked so completely unlike anything in the United States. Especially the cathedral. It was actually two cathedrals: the massive main one with its tiered bell towers and angel-topped dome, and then another, smaller, one just beside it, with ornate stonework framing a broad wooden door.
“The tabernacle,” said Alex, following my gaze. “I think it was built at a later date – I’m not sure why. ”
I nodded slowly, taking it all in: the ancient-looking stone, the cars, the vibrant crowd. There was a real buzz in the air – and not only here; I’d been noticing it ever since we got into the city. It tickled at my senses like something tangible.
“Mexico City is just amazing,” I said, sitting cross-legged on the metal roof. We hadn’t had a chance to buy other clothes yet; I was wearing Alex’s red plaid shirt over my camisole. “I’ve never seen anything like it. ”
Alex shrugged; I knew he wasn’t much of a city person at heart. “Yeah, it’s like New York on a caffeine jag. Jake loved it when we were here on hunts – he used to drag me clubbing every night we could sneak out. ”
The momentary sadness crossed his face that always came whenever he mentioned his brother. I pressed against him, slipping my arm around his waist, and he managed a smile. “Anyway, the angels love it here, too – something about the energy really draws them. ” His eyes went to the cathedral again and he shook his head. “They must have a complete stranglehold here now – and the Second Wave angels probably haven’t even arrived yet. ”
By the time a band called Los Ángeles Amigos came on – four guys wearing angel wings and a girl singer with a slightly crooked halo – the square was packed with people and there were over two dozen real angels gliding around overhead. It was ironic, I guess: as rock music celebrating the angels beat through the night, the angels themselves dipped and turned, taking their time as they chose which human to feed from. Occasionally one dove, disappearing into the dancing crowd. On the next car, the people on the roof had their arms around each other, singing along with the music. Alex and I watched in silence, holding hands.
Finally the band stopped; a woman in a short red dress stepped onstage and grabbed the mic. She shouted something about “los ángeles” – “the angels” – her voice booming out through the speakers.
“Sí!” roared the crowd.
“Let me guess,” I said to Alex, leaning close so he’d hear. “Do you love the angels?”
He smiled wryly. “Got it in one. ”
The woman called out something else. “Are you happy they’re with us?” Alex translated, his lips a warm tickle against my ear as the crowd screamed, “Sí! Sí!”
The woman crouched down on her high heels, flinging one arm up as she shouted a third time. Noise thundered through the night; the crowd went berserk, screaming and jumping up and down.
Alex started to speak, then broke off, straightening abruptly. I caught my breath as I saw it too. One of the angels had just dodged to the left, its great wings slicing through the air. The angel paused, hovering, as it seemed to look around it. With a sudden flurry it darted aside again.
And then, on the far side of the square, another angel vanished in a petal-pattern of radiance, like a firework going off over the crowd. Pieces of light drifted to the ground.
I stared dumbly as they twinkled in the floodlights. I could hardly get the words out. “Is – is there anything else that can cause that?”
When Alex spoke, his voice sounded rough. “No,” he said. “No, there isn’t. Somebody just shot an angel. ”
We glanced at each other. I felt the tense excitement pulsing through him; it matched my own. There was another AK out there in the crowd – someone else who knew how to fight the angels. More than one in fact, because back towards the stage, two angels were flying towards the one who had first dodged – and suddenly one of them lunged to the side too, as if avoiding a bullet. At the same moment, the first angel jerked away again with a bright shimmer.