Falling Angels

Chapter 2-1

Chapter Two

“We must go now,” Raphael said. “I understand that this discussion was necessary, but we have already used up too much time.”

To my surprise, Logan spoke next. He’d been sitting quietly next to my cousin Grace during the entire exchange, listening to the back and forth, but then he said, “I want to go with you.”

Grace went rigid with shock. Then she immediately shook her head. “Oh, no. No way. Not when we’ve just worked things out between us — ”

“I’m a soldier,” he argued, although I noticed the way he reached over to take her hand, as if to reconfirm the bond between the two of them. “They could use my help.”

Raphael said, “You would do this, working against those who created you?”

Sparks seemed to flash in Logan’s gray eyes. “They might have bred me. But they did not create me. I am my own man.”

I had to admire the way he’d spoken, calm but with an undercurrent of steel to his words. It hadn’t been hard for me to guess why Grace was so attracted to him, despite his being a human/alien hybrid — the man was smoking hot — but right then, I could also see why she loved him. He had integrity, even if the aliens who’d first cooked him up in a test tube obviously did not.

A nod from Raphael. “It is true that it would be helpful to have someone with your skills.”

“Logan — ”

The despair in Grace’s voice was so obvious, it nearly broke my heart. My Aunt Kara shifted her position where she stood, as if she wanted to say something but then realized it wasn’t her place to interfere right then. This matter was between Grace and Logan.

And Uncle Lance — his mouth was pressed into a hard line, and I could see the way his fingers tapped at his hip, as if longing for the holstered gun that had hung there in his former life. He probably wished he could come along with us, but I knew Raphael would never think of him as a qualified addition to the party, even though Lance had once been an Army Ranger and probably knew more about actual combat than anyone else in the room. Problem was, to Raphael, Lance didn’t count, because he was only human.

Logan lifted Grace’s hand to his lips and kissed it gently before placing it back in her lap. “This is something I can do, Grace. Please.”

A long, long moment, during which she stared down at her hand, almost as if she was expecting to see the visible print of Logan’s lips there. Finally, she gave a very small nod. “All right. I don’t understand, not really, but — okay.”

“Good,” Raphael said. “Then let us go.”

I shot him a puzzled look. “Just like this?” I asked, glancing down at myself. I hadn’t really dressed to impress, since I knew I’d just be spending the evening with the family, but even so, I wasn’t sure if jeans and heeled boots and a tight sweater really comprised the best ensemble for staging a commando raid on an alien outpost.

“Anything you require can be procured on my ship,” he replied, and I couldn’t help experiencing a little shiver of anticipation. I was dying to see the inside of that ship.

“We’ll need to stand close together,” my father said. Clearly, he knew the drill.

I got up from where I’d been sitting on the love seat, then walked over to my father. My mother did the same, and Logan pressed Grace’s hand one last time before coming to assemble with our little group. Raphael moved closer to us as well. His hand went to a spot on his hip, not all that different from the place where Uncle Lance had been itching for his sidearm. For the first time, I could see that Raphael wore a silvery belt underneath his voluminous outer robe, and from that belt hung what looked like a strange, opalescent jewel encased in silver.

His fingers moved over the surface of the jewel. I barely had time to catch a final glance of the group gathered in my Aunt Kara’s family room — for some reason, Persephone’s daughter Taryn looked the most troubled — before a brilliant white light surrounded me, my parents, Logan, and Raphael.

My entire body felt as if it was breaking out in the world’s worst case of the goosebumps. The skin at the back of my neck prickled, and it seemed as if my hair was trying to stand on end, which would’ve been quite a feat, considering it fell most of the way down my back. I wanted to reach out and grab my mother’s hand for reassurance, but I couldn’t seem to move, couldn’t do anything except let that strange white light wash over me and move through me. At least I was still breathing normally.

I couldn’t tell how long it all lasted — much longer than I would have liked it to, that was for sure — before the light suddenly disappeared, and I felt my feet hit a hard surface. A stumble before I recovered my balance, and then I blinked as I tried to focus on my surroundings.

We stood in a large room with walls of curved metal. Lights that shimmered along the entire spectrum and back again formed long, arched bars between the metal panels that made up the walls. And immediately ahead of us was a huge window, and framed in that window was a blue-green disk, one edge beginning to fall into shadow.

Earth. We weren’t in a room, but standing somewhere on Raphael’s spaceship. Even though he’d told us that was where we would be going, the scene took my breath away.

I swallowed and looked over at my parents. My mother’s eyes appeared just as wide with wonder as mine probably were, but my father only gave a single thoughtful nod, as if reacquainting himself with something he hadn’t seen in a long time. And Logan — I could tell from the way his gaze flicked from place to place that he was taking it all in as well, but he remained silent.

“Welcome aboard,” Raphael said. He moved away from us to a tall pedestal of dark gray metal. Lights surged across the top of the pedestal, and he ran his finger over its surface. At once, the view of Earth outside the windows — or view-screens, or whatever they were — began to shift. The pedestal must have been attached to the ship’s navigational system, and Raphael had just given the command to leave orbit. “We will arrive at Mars in approximately one point three of your world’s hours. In the meantime, we’ll need to outfit ourselves for the mission. This way.”

He gestured toward one of the metal walls, which slid out of the way when he pointed to it. The seamlessness of it all was a little disconcerting. All right, intellectually I understood that the alien race Raphael and my father belonged to had technology that was far more advanced than what I was used to down on Earth, but it still jarred me to see it in action.

As we followed Raphael down a corridor, also of metal, with those shimmering, soothing lights set at regular intervals, my father asked, “Your crew?”

“I have none,” Raphael replied. “You know that it is not strictly necessary on a vessel of this size, and we preferred to put as few of our people at risk as possible.”

That remark made me think that he — and his masters, whoever they were — had to have known in advance that things were going to head south with the Mars mission, and that Raphael would need to bring in some Earth-based backup.

“Oh, so it’s okay to put us at risk, just not your own people?” I asked.

He shot me an irritated glance. “There are reasons why you are far better suited for this task than anyone I could have brought along with me.”

“Oh?” I challenged him. “Like what?”

“Callista,” my father said, his tone a warning. All right, maybe I was pushing things, but I really didn’t like the idea of being considered expendable.

“It’s fine,” Raphael broke in, sounding uncharacteristically mild…for him. “If I were in her position, I would be asking the same questions.”

Both my parents looked somewhat astonished by that reply, probably because they’d had previous dealings with Raphael/Otto and therefore knew he wasn’t generally the type to let things roll off his back.

He flickered a quick glance at them. “Have you spoken much of how you drove the Reptilians out of Sedona?”

My mother lifted her shoulders. I could tell from the way she wasn’t exactly looking at anyone that his question had made her uncomfortable. And yes, she had talked about her showdown with the aliens, but in roundabout ways, saying that it had been the energies of Sedona, of the Earth itself, that had been just as much a factor in defeating the Reptilians as her own powers.

“A little,” she finally admitted.

“They’ve taught me,” I told Raphael. My tone might or might not have been a touch belligerent. “Trained me to use the powers I inherited.” Eyes narrowing, I added, “At least you didn’t take away the ability for my father to pass his power on to his child, even if he couldn’t use it himself.”

Raphael didn’t reply immediately. Something of a frown pulled at his brows, but he only waved a hand near one patch of wall, and a doorway appeared there. Weird how that worked; it was almost as if the metal had a fluid quality that allowed it to melt out of the way when a door was needed and then flow back into place afterward.

Beyond that strange doorway was a circular room with small bays placed at regular intervals around it, eight in all. “Step into one of these,” he commanded. “You will be properly outfitted for the mission ahead.”

My mother didn’t move. Arms crossed, she surveyed the bays, a skeptical expression on her face. “Why do you have eight of these things here if you’re the only person on board?”

I’d been thinking more or less the same thing, but I had to keep from grinning at the pained look that passed over Raphael’s features. It was kind of funny to watch someone so inhumanly gorgeous try not to grimace. Or maybe I was just attempting to find the humor in the situation, because that way I could try to avoid thinking about the nervous butterflies that kept fluttering around in my stomach.

“The ship was designed to carry up to eight crew members, but it can be piloted solo,” he replied, tone remarkably even, all things considered. “Is there anything else? Would you like an explanation of the propulsion system, or perhaps the sanitary facilities?”

“No,” she said, not bothering to hide her own grin. “I suppose I’ll get to figure those out on my own eventually.”

He didn’t rise to the bait. “Then please, get in a bay. If it makes you feel any better, I will also be using one.”

“It does, actually,” she said, and my father only shook his head. I supposed he was probably used to that sort of thing. My mother never had been exactly the reverent type.

“What’s it going to do?” I asked as I stepped into the person-sized divot in the wall. The metal was featureless, completely smooth and cool to the touch, and I couldn’t begin to figure out how the whole thing operated.

“As I said, it will see you are properly outfitted for the mission that lies ahead.”

“What will happen to my own clothes? I like these boots.”

His jaw set, and I got the distinct impression he was trying to prevent himself from rolling his eyes. “They will be stored safely.”

I supposed I had to take his word for it. Maybe worrying about my boots was kind of stupid, considering what was at stake. I swallowed, doing my best to ignore the sour taste of fear in my mouth.

As soon as my head touched the back of the bay, an opaque, glassy film covered the opening, obscuring my view of everyone else in the room. That is, I could see vague shapes, could tell that everyone else was also getting into their own bays, but I couldn’t make out anything more than that.

Light flashed all around me, blue-white. I shut my eyes against the glare, felt once again those strange tingles and pinpricks all over my body. Was this Raphael’s version of a practical joke? Were these bays actually some kind of transporter devices, instead of the “outfitters” he’d claimed they were?