Fallen Angel

♱ CHAPTER TWELVE

☽ Luke

THE AIR IS HOT AND HUMID when we materialize on the cathedral's front steps. I feel strangely naked, knowing that we just transported out in the open like this. Somebody could've seen us, and I know from experience that that does not end well. I mean, imagine seeing two dudes just shimmer into existence on the front steps of a church. One second there's no one around, and then—SPLAT! A couple yards away, a little boy stands with his jaw open, holding an empty waffle cone. A scoop of strawberry ice cream lays splattered on the pavement at his feet. When he sees me staring, he drops the cone too and runs away. "Mama!" I hear him cry. Oops. I guess someone saw after all.

I turn to face the building behind me. The cathedral is looming and beautiful. Ornate marble columns guard detailed bronze statues, peering at us with lifelike eyes. An enormous doorway looms behind us. Above it, a bronze clock ticks away, and above that, a gilded angel glowers, on the prowl. Her arm is outstretched, index finger pointing into the distance. Two massive towers reach up towards the heavens, silver bells hanging silently in the shadowy archways. From inside, I hear the hushed sounds of parishioners praying, an organ lamenting, and tourists in awe. Outside, the area is quiet. Peaceful, even. Aside from the stifling heat, I could almost close my eyes and—

"See any caves?" Xavier asks, and suddenly I remember that I'm not here alone. Worse, that I'm with him.

"Do I see any caves," I repeat drily, dumbfounded.

Xavier shrugs, one hand on his hip, the other shielding his eyes from the sun as he surveys the area. He looks so much like a tourist right now, it's embarrassing. All he's missing is a fanny pack.

     "Yeah," he answers, "that's where Amal said we could find the crystal."

Right. We need a cave. Now it's my turn to shrug. I have a vague sense of where we are — Chihuahua, Mexico — from my Angel Intuition, but that's about all I know. I don't know where we can find any crys—

"¡Brujos!" Suddenly, an older woman comes careening around the corner, charging straight for us. She grips a broom in her tanned hands, poised to strike. Behind her, I can see the ice cream boy grinning — pleased to see his mother serving up justice, I suppose. "¡Vete!" she shrieks, bolting closer and closer.

"That's our cue," I announce, taking off without waiting to make sure Xavier's behind me. If he gets skinned alive by this angry mother, well, what a shame, I guess. I hope he still remembers how to run.

I don't know where I'm going, but I keep on running. Anything to get away from this broom lady. But I have to admit, it isn't easy in the heat. Back when I was an Angel, running was easy. In fact, anything physically demanding was easy. It was in my blood. But when I lost my powers, I lost my physical strength. And now, as a Fallen Angel, I've had to work hard to gain it all back. I'm still not as strong as I used to be, but judging by the look on JT's face when she saw me shirtless, I'd say I'm doing pretty well.

We only run for a few minutes before the lady deigns us unworthy of her time and energy. But it sure is nice to know that I'm in better physical shape than Xavier here, who's currently bent over his knees trying to catch his breath, and I'm only sweating a little bit. (Okay, maybe a lot. But I swear it's just the heat). When he finally rights himself, I lead him over to a bus stop so we can formulate a plan. He all but collapses onto the bench, but I can't help but wonder if he's just putting on a show. Making me think he's weaker than he really is so I'll underestimate him...

Stop it, Luke, I remind myself, taking a seat beside him on the bench. He's not evil. JT nearly skinned me alive in my own house after I proposed my theory about Xavier. After that, I've been trying to ease up on my suspicions. She's adamant that he's "innocent as a lamb" and that he doesn't remember a thing. Still, it doesn't hurt to keep at least a small guard up, right?