Angel Burn

“HOW ABOUT THAT ONE? Is that a constellation?” Remus asked, pointing upward.

They were down in the small valley where the truck was parked.

Sirius sat leaning against a rock; Remus was between his legs with his back against Sirius's chest, his arms around Remus as they stared up at the stars.

“Yeah, that’s the Seven Sisters, the Pleiades.”

He bent his head, and Remus caught his breath as Sirius's warm mouth nuzzled at his neck.

He hadn’t gotten even remotely used yet to how good it felt to be kissed by Sirius.

“It’s so sexy how you know all of this," Remus said when he could speak again.

“Yeah?” Remus heard the grin in his voice. “I know the summer constellations, too. Will that get me bonus kisses?”

“I think it might, actually.”

A cool wind swept them, and Remus shivered.

Sirius arranged his leather jacket snugly around Remus and folded his forearms over his stomach, holding Remus close.

Above, the night sky soared — a glittering sea of light.

“So . . . I did what you suggested that time,” Remus told him after a pause. “I contacted my angel.”

Sirius leaned sideways, looking down at him.

An amazed smile lit his face. “Really?”

“Yeah, the night of my birthday.” Remus felt a small glow of pleasure inside, remembering. “I just sort of wanted to keep it private for a while.”

Sirius nodded. “Do you want to tell me about it now? Or not?”

“No, I really do.” Remus swiveled to face him, sitting cross-legged on the ground as he described everything that had happened — finding his angel within him, feeling his warmth.

“I knew that I don’t have to be afraid of him anymore,” Remus finished finally, “that I don’t have to hate myself for having something like that inside of me.”

Taking Remus's face in his hands, Sirius kissed him softly. “Are you going to contact him again?”

“Yeah, I will. I — well, I sort of want to try flying again.” Remus's cheeks heated.

He shook his head in wonder. “I would, too, if I were you.” He hesitated, and then said, “Why don’t you try it now?”

“Now?”

“Yeah, why not? I’d really like to see. I mean, unless you’d rather be on your own.”

The more Remus thought about it, the more he liked the idea.

Excitement tickled through him. “OK, I will,” he said.

Holding Sirius's hands, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He could feel Sirius centering himself as well, preparing to rise up through the chakra points.

Relaxing, he went deep inside himself, searching for the light that he now knew was there.

He found it at once — sped toward it this time.

A burst of light enveloped him.

There was his angel, smiling, his face just as lovely and serene as before.

Remus drank him in — a radiant, shining white, like sun-touched snow.

And then, with a slight mental flick, Remus moved his consciousness to his.

He was lifting, growing taller, leaving his human body behind.

But at the same time, he was still seated on the ground, with Sirius's hands holding his own.

Remus opened his eyes and saw his angel hovering just above them, his wings moving against the stars.

“Sirius, I can see him,” Remus whispered from beside him. “I mean — I am him, but I’m here, too.”

He glanced at Remus, startled, and then back at the angel. “But how —?”

“I don’t know,” Remus said, not taking his eyes off the angel. “I think he only came out before because I was in danger and he could help. But now I’ve bonded with him, so it’s different this time somehow.”

Closing his eyes, Remus became his angel as he turned and took flight over the valley.

The stars shifted, came to meet him as he flew up and up.

He felt the wind stroking his wings, stirring his hair, and far below, he saw the energy forces of every living thing in the valley.

The plants were all turned into something magical, with gleaming white outlines that moved with the wind.

Creatures that he hadn’t even known were there suddenly appeared: a mouse crouching in the grass, a pair of deer moving through the pine trees.

He saw Sirius's life force down there — a rich, vibrant blue with flashes of gold.

And he saw his own beside it: bright angelic silver with lavender lights.

The two energies were so close that they mingled like smoke, completely right together.

On the ground, Remus opened his eyes again, staring upward as his angel flew.

“This is just incredible,” he murmured. “I can feel everything he's feeling.”

Sirius put his arms around Remus, and he leaned against him, still watching his angel as he wheeled through the night sky, his snowy wings outspread.

“I’m glad you can see him like I do,” Sirius said against his hair. “He's so beautiful, Remus.”

The moonlight lit his face as Sirius gazed up at his angel, and Remus's heart turned over at the expression in his eyes.

“So are you,” Remus said, touching his cheekbone.

And then, in the air, his angel self stiffened.

It felt as if icy water had been flung over Remus as he flew.

Something was out there.

What was it?

Gliding for a moment, he strained desperately, listening for knowledge he couldn’t quite catch — a probing, a thinking.

Fear slammed through him, cold and ominous; the foreboding that he'd felt before was only a shadow compared to this.

Something was coming.

Turning on his wing, he dove back through the stars toward his human body, merging with a flurry of wings.

At the same time, on the ground, his words tumbled out in a panic. “Sirius, I felt something!”

His hands tightened in Remus's; his voice sharpened. “What?”

“I don’t know, but something’s on its way. Something dangerous.”

“A person?”

Remus shook his head; he felt almost tearful with panic. “I don’t know — a person or a situation — I don’t know! But it’s coming here, and soon.”

Sirius's face was tense, his jaw tight. “When’s ‘soon’? Can you tell?”

“I . . . ” Remus tried to stop shaking. “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s instantly — I mean, not right this second. But soon.”

“We’ve got to get out of here,” muttered Sirius, dropping one of his hands and scraping his hair back. “Damn it — it won’t be light for hours; we’d break an axle trying to get down that mountain in the dark.”

He blew out a breath; Remus could practically hear his mind working. “OK — we’ll get the truck loaded up tonight and leave as soon as we can, the minute it’s dawn.”

Nervously, Remus rubbed his fists on his jeans. “And go where?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” he admitted. “How would you feel about Mexico?”

“Mexico?”

His dark eyebrows drew together in a troubled frown. “Yeah. From what Peter said, I might be the only Angel Killer left. I’ve got to find some new AKs and train them, or else humanity won’t even stand a chance. We could find someplace down there where you’ll be safe and hole up while I put some feelers out. There were some good AKs from Mexico — I think with luck, I could get something going there, start up operations again. What do you think?”

Remus felt slightly stunned; he hadn’t picked up on any of this from Sirius.

Slowly, Remus said, “It sounds good, except . . . it’s all going to take time, isn’t it? I mean, starting things up again and training people.”

“Yeah, but what choice do we have?”

Remus didn’t want to speak the words, but he had to.

“Sirius, you told me once that the AKs were losing the war. That you needed something big to stop the angels.”

He didn’t say anything.

The night air felt cold and still around them.

Remus took a deep breath. “I’m the something big, aren’t I? I can’t just hide away forever, keeping safe. I’m supposed to be the one who can defeat them.”

Sirius gave a short, humorless laugh.

He tossed a pebble into the undergrowth. “Yeah. You know, it’s funny, but I’m not as crazy about that idea as I used to be. Remus, if anything ever happened to you —”

Remus moved closer, leaning against his chest.

Sirius put his arm around Remus; he could feel the tension in Sirius's muscles.

Fumbling over his words, he said, “Sirius, you know I feel the same way about you — I’d die if anything ever happened to you. But if I really can destroy the angels somehow, so that no one else is hurt by them . . . ”

His other arm came up around Remus, too, holding him tightly.

All at once his emotions washed over Remus, as clearly as his own: fear of losing Remus, determination that he wouldn’t.

And so deep down that he was hardly aware of it himself, he was thinking about his brother.

Remus cringed as sudden images flashed in his head: a boy who looked like Sirius, but taller and stockier; he was lying on the rocky ground, staring blindly up at the sky. Sirius screaming his brother’s name, his voice ragged with agony.

It was his fault, all his fault.

He hardly ever mentioned Regulus— Remus still didn’t know exactly how he had died.

And Remus couldn’t find out this way; it felt like eavesdropping.

Closing the images off, he hugged Sirius as hard as he could, wishing desperately that he could take it all away — the deaths Sirius had lived through, the pain he’d suffered.

Slowly, Remus felt him relax. Pulling away a little, he kissed Remus and stroked his hair back, dropping his head so their foreheads were pressed together.

“Look . . . this is the best plan I can come up with for now. I’ve got to keep you safe, Remus. If you really are the one to destroy them, then we’ll deal with it when the time comes, OK?”

He drew back, searching Remus's face.

“OK,” Remus said finally.

It wasn’t as if either of them even knew why Remus was supposed to be such a threat.

And allowing himself to imagine Mexico with Sirius, he liked the sound of it.

He liked the sound of it a lot.

Standing up, Sirius helped Remus to his feet. “Come on; we’d better get packing, so we can leave first thing.”

They started across the valley, holding hands, picking their way across the rocky ground in the moonlight.

It was so bright that Remus could see the deer path clearly, snaking up through the rocks ahead of them like a vein of silver.

He felt almost unreal as he stared at it.

At this time tomorrow, Sirius and him would be hundreds of miles away from here; maybe even in Mexico already.

Remus just hoped that whatever was coming wouldn’t follow them there.

~~~~~

When Sirius woke up a few hours later, he could tell that Remus wasn’t lying beside him even before he opened his eyes.

He sat up.

Remus wasn’t in the cabin, either; the small space was almost empty, most of their things already packed and loaded in the truck.

After his premonition the night before, worry creased through Sirius.

Hastily, he yanked on his hiking boots and went outside.

Remus was standing in front of the cabin.

He had on his boots, too, and a sweater and sweatpants as he stared down at the mountains below.

His smile was etched with sadness when he saw Sirius. “I just came out to say good-bye.”

Letting out a relieved breath, Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus from behind and looked out at the mountains.

They were lit purple and rose with the first faint fingers of dawn, wraiths of mist curling around their bases like smoke.

“We’ll come back someday,” he said.

"I’d like that,” said Remus softly, leaning back against his bare chest.

Remus started to say something else, and then broke off as a distant chopping sound carried toward them on the air.

He frowned. “What’s that?”

Sirius stiffened. “Oh Christ, it’s a helicopter."

Adrenaline surged through him.

He ducked back into the cabin and snatched up the rifle; he was back outside in seconds.

“Come on!” He grabbed Remus's hand, and they ran across the clearing, scrabbling up the rocks behind the cabin.

The rotor noise grew louder, beating through the air.

As they climbed, Sirius cursed himself — damn it, why hadn’t they left hours ago, the moment Remus told Sirius his fears?

If the truck had broken down, they could have hiked; at least they’d be away from here.

Stupidly, he’d thought that they’d have more time.

Remus slipped slightly.

Sirius steadied him with an arm, and they kept climbing.

Remus had gone silent, his face pale but resolute.

Finally they reached a small, rocky ledge, with the cabin and the valley below it in clear view, looking almost toylike.

And there was the helicopter — sleek and black, swinging in the air as it touched down near the truck.

“Oh, no,” whispered Remus.

“Get down,” said Sirius quickly.

Ignoring the small jabs of rocks against his chest, he lay flat on the ground and sighted along the rifle, peering through the telescopic lens.

Remus lay beside Sirius, his eyes fixed fearfully on the scene below.

The helicopter snapped into sharp focus.

It was unmarked, with tinted windows.

As its blades slowed, a man and a woman climbed out.

The woman had shoulder-length brown hair and wore gray pants and a fitted jacket; the man was also brown haired, in jeans and a bulky fisherman’s sweater.

Closing his eyes, Sirius moved through his chakras, scanning to check out the pair’s energies.

They were too far away for him to sense, but when he opened his eyes again, he could see their auras clearly through the lens: the man was an angel; the woman, human.

As Sirius watched, they started climbing up the deer path toward the cabin.

The woman was carrying a briefcase

“What can you see?” asked Remus in a low voice.

Tersely, Sirius told him.

The man and woman had reached the cabin now; they knocked on the door and then looked inside.

Knocked on the door.

Sirius stared through the lens, frowning.

Why were they bothering with being polite?

They must know that their helicopter had been heard; he’d expect them to go in with all guns blazing.

In fact, if they were Church of Angels, he’d expect a small army, not these two.

Who the hell were they?

As he watched, the woman took a small handheld amplifier from her jacket.

Looking up at the mountains around her, she spoke into it; her voice echoed around them.

“Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. Special Agents Fortescue and Longbottom here, CIA.”

Sirius's shoulders tightened with surprise.

“They must be from Project Angel,” he muttered to Remus.

Did the woman have angel burn, or was she unaware that her colleague was one of the enemy?

Down below, the female agent was still staring upward, turning slightly as she spoke.

Her next words rocked him: “We’re aware that you can read auras. Special Agent Longbottom is an angel; he’s on our side. It’s imperative that we speak to you.”

Beside him, Remus stifled a gasp.

“Sirius, can that be true?” he whispered.

An angel, on their side?

Sirius took his eye away from the lens and shook his head. “I doubt it. It’s exactly what I’d expect them to say, to lure us down there.”

Remus hesitated. “If I got closer, I could try checking them out psychically.”

At first he thought Remus meant climbing down again, and then he realized. “He’s an angel; he’d see you.”

“Yes, but I don’t think he could hurt me. I’m not like them — my life force is in my human form, not my angel one. It might be the only way we can find out.”

Sirius didn’t like the idea, but he knew Remus was right.

“Yeah, OK,” he said finally. “Be careful.”

He put his eye back to the lens; if Remus's theory was wrong and his angel looked like it was in danger from either of those two, they’d regret it.

Remus shut his eyes, going very still.

Gradually, his angel took form above him, its wings gleaming in the rosy morning sun.

Flying upward, the angel went into a long, slow glide, heading toward the cabin.

Sirius crouched over his rifle, watching the man and woman intently as the angel approached, flying over the stream.

“He’s seen me,” murmured Remus beside him.

The brown haired man’s eyes had widened in surprise as he spotted Remus's angel; now he was saying something to the woman, his expression urgent.

The rifle’s trigger was ready against Sirius's finger as Remus's angel swooped close and hovered.

But the man made no threatening gestures.

Instead, he turned to face Remus's angel, his arms held out from his sides; the woman imitated him, though she clearly didn’t know quite where to look.

“They’re both . . . mentally opening themselves to me,” said Remus softly.

There was a long silence; the wind rustled around them.

Sirius glanced at Remus at his side, taking in his furrowed brow.

Finally he opened his eyes, looking deep in thought.

“Sirius, I think they’re what they say they are. They’re both from Project Angel; they believe they’re the only agents left who haven’t been contaminated. He’s an angel, but he really is on our side. He hates what the others have been doing.”

Sirius put his eye back to the lens. “Yeah? Ask him what he’s been feeding on,” he said, scanning the angel’s aura again.

It looked sated, as if the being had recently indulged.

Remus closed his eyes again.

There was a pause, and then Sirius saw the man’s lips moving.

When Remus opened his eyes again, he looked saddened.

“I — I thought the question at him, and he heard me,” he said. “He feeds off people who already have angel burn. He hates doing it, but he says it’s the only way he can survive to try and stop what’s happening.”

“Do you believe him?”

Slowly, Remus nodded. “Yeah, I do,” he said. “I believe both of them.”

Sirius looked back at the scene below.

Neither the man nor the woman had moved as Remus's angel hung in the air above them, his wings as white as clouds.

Sirius shook his head in disbelief.

He had complete faith in Remus's psychic abilities, but Christ — an angel that actually cared about what it fed on?

“OK,” he said finally, lowering the rifle. “Tell them we’re coming down.”

As they crossed the field back to the cabin, Sirius saw that the agents were sitting on the ground outside, and, grudgingly, he respected the fact that they hadn’t invaded their space by waiting inside the cabin.

The woman was smoking a cigarette, looking pensive; she stubbed it out when she saw them approach and jumped to her feet.

“Mr. Black,” she said, walking toward them with her hand out. “Alice Fortescue. This is a real pleasure.”

He shook her hand, feeling nonplussed.

She was gazing at him with an expression akin to wonder.

She seemed to catch herself. “Sorry, it’s just that you were something of a legend in the office . . . more than two hundred angels, single-handed. And you must be Remus Lupin,” she said, offering her hand to Remus.

“Hi,” said Remus, shaking it. His elfin face looked worried.

The man came forward; he was taller than Sirius, with broad shoulders.

His blue eyes had the odd intensity of all angels’ eyes, piercing into Sirius's own.

“Frank Longbottom,” he said, holding out his hand.

After a beat, Sirius took it. “So what made you change sides?” he asked brusquely.

The angel’s expression didn’t change. “I was never on the other side,” he said. “Not all of us feel that we have a divine right to use humans as cattle.”

“We have so much that we need to discuss with you both,” said Agent Fortescue. “Please, could we go inside?”

Sirius glanced at Remus. “OK?”

He nodded, and Sirius opened the door.

With the four of them inside, the cabin seemed even smaller than usual; he saw Agent Fortescue noticing the narrow bed with its joined-together sleeping bags.

Remus looked at the two chairs.

“Here, why don’t the two of you sit at the table, and we’ll take the bed?” He suggested to the agents.

Smoothing his hair back, he quickly took a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Call us Alice and Frank, please,” said Agent Fortescue as she took a seat.

Sirius propped his rifle against the wall without responding.

He had no intention of getting chummy with these two until he knew what was going on.

He grabbed the unpacked T-shirt he’d left out for the day and pulled it on, then sat beside Remus on the bed, leaning against the wall and tapping his fingers on his knee.

“How did you find us?” he asked.

“Remote viewing,” said Frank. “I’ve been trying to get a psychic fix on you for weeks; it’s not easy when there’s no personal attachment. Finally I saw that you were up in the mountains somewhere. I kept thinking it was the Rockies; I wasted almost a week scanning them before moving farther west.”

Remus's eyes widened. “But if you can do that, then the other angels can, too.”

“It’s a specialized skill, but I’m sure they’re trying,” agreed Frank. “You’re just lucky that we found you first.”

“We’re lucky,” said Alice. “Though it would have saved a lot of time if we hadn’t lost you outside of Phoenix.”

“That was you following us on the interstate?” asked Remus.

Frank nodded. “I’ve got contacts in the Church of Angels; I heard through the grapevine that a couple of devotees almost got you in Texas — for a while after that, we were only a few steps behind you.”

“Kudos to both of you, by the way, for keeping alive so far,” put in Alice. “It’s quite an achievement.”

Remus shook his head. “It’s all been Sirius,” he said. “I’d have been dead the first day if it wasn’t for him.”

“You saved me, too,” said Sirius quietly, thinking of their battle with the angels in New Mexico.

Their gaze met, and then he turned back to the agents.

“How long has Project Angel been infiltrated?”

“About four months,” said Frank. “Some of the agents in the field had already died or been subject to angel burn by that point. The rest were dispatched by the angels or are now missing, presumed dead.”

Sirius had known it already, but it was like a hard kick to the chest anyway.

He saw Remus dart Sirius a concerned look, his eyes full of sympathy.

“Right,” he said finally. “So how come I wasn’t dispatched?”

Frank gave a sad smile. “Because you were the best. So the angels decided to use you for their own purposes — doing away with traitors like me.”

Sirius's spine straightened as he came away from the wall. “What?”

“That’s right,” said Alice. “For the past four months, every hit you’ve done has been an angel sympathetic to humans, who was working to help save them.”

“You’re insane,” he said shortly. “I watch them, remember? Every single one was about to feed.”

Frank shook his head. “No, they were going to do something called marshaling, where they place psychic resistance into a human’s aura. It can act as a protection against feeding angels. In the right conditions, it can also be passed on to other humans through auric contact — almost like a virus, but with positive effects.”

Sirius's mind raced.

He thought back to his last hit before he’d received the order for Remus: T. Goodman, approaching the drunken businessman on the sidewalk. 'Don’t be afraid. I have something to give to you.'

He swore.

Distantly, he felt Remus take his hand; he gripped his fingers.

Alice crossed her legs. “You had no way of knowing, of course; you were just doing your job — excellently as always, I might add.”

He felt like throwing something at her.

“Great, so there’s this thing called marshaling, and no one even bothered to tell me about it? So that I could maybe not kill angels who are on our side? Jesus! How exactly did you guys manage to lose control of things so badly? No, scratch that — how did you even get your jobs in the first place?”

Alice sat impassively. “The angel spotters were aware of this information for the past year, which is how long Frank's been with us. None of the hits authorized by us since that time were against sympathetic angels. And probably very few prior to that; there just aren’t that many of them.”

Sirius let out a breath.

Remus was still holding his hand; the steady warmth of his touch calmed Sirius somewhat.

“OK,” he said after a pause.

He squeezed Remus's hand then released it and scraped his face. “Sorry.”

Alice inclined her head. “If this news didn’t bother you, then you wouldn’t have been fit for the job in the first place.”

Frank leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Look, we need to deal with what’s going on right now, not with the past. If we don’t act quickly, things are about to get a whole lot worse. Which brings us to the next point.”

He paused as his gaze went to Remus, taking him in. “So, it really is true that you’re a half angel,” he said.

“Yes, it is.” Remus's voice was quiet, steady.

Remembering his anguish in the desert the month before, Sirius felt a rush of love and admiration for him.

“I knew it already, but actually seeing it for myself is . . . ” Frank trailed off. “You should be impossible, you know.”

Remus smiled slightly. “Here I am anyway.”

“Do you know why the angels think you can destroy them?” he asked.

“No. I don’t have any idea. Before all of this, I didn’t even know that there were angels, much less that I was a half one.”

“Well, I know a little more than you, then,” said Frank. “Among the angel community, the consensus is that Lucius's vision had something to do with the gate.”

“Start at the beginning,” interrupted Alice, her crossed leg jiggling.

“Right,” said Frank, linking his fingers together. “The first thing you have to understand is that most angels in this world are here because of something called the Crisis. Our world is similar to yours, except that there we can feed off the ether itself. Being a predator isn’t our natural state.”

“Yeah? You give a great imitation of it,” said Sirius before he could stop himself.

Remus gave him a glance.

Frank shrugged. “It’s true, there have always been angels who liked to come across here and feed off humans. They liked the buzz, the excitement of it. But their numbers were relatively few, overall. You’ll just have to trust me when I say that most angels had no interest in it. However, then the Crisis came — though no one knows why, our ether started to fade. Currently there’s no longer enough energy left to support all of us, and it’s getting worse. Soon our world won’t be able to sustain any of us at all.”

Sirius listened intently.

They’d been right, then — something had gone wrong in the angels’ world, bringing them to this one.

“The Seraphic Council decided that our only hope was to start an evacuation.” Frank's eyes flicked to Sirius's. “To here.”

“The Invasion,” said Sirius.

“The Invasion,” confirmed Frank.

He took a breath, tapping his fingers together. When he spoke again, he sounded as if he was choosing his words carefully.

“The evacuation has been planned in waves. What you call the Invasion was the first; there are still several more to come.”

At first Sirius didn’t take it in, and then what the angel was saying slammed through him like a tsunami.

Beside him on the bed, Remus had gone very still, his lips white.

“Jesus Christ,” Sirius whispered.

“The First Wave was primarily to see if it could be done,” said Frank heavily. “Could angels survive in this way? And the answer seems to be yes. Most angels have taken to feeding off humans with alacrity. Enjoyment, even.” His face twisted in disgust. “So, it’s been deemed a success. The news came through about six weeks ago; the Second Wave has now been authorized. When it occurs, it will roughly double the number of angels currently here.”

“When?” asked Sirius. His throat was dry.

Frank's eyes met his. “Tomorrow,” he said.

“Tomorrow?”

Frank nodded. “The plans have been in place for more than two years; once the green light came six weeks ago, things happened quickly.”

“Here, look at this,” said Alice, reaching for her briefcase.

She handed over a white flyer with silver-and-blue lettering. It had the Church of Angels logo of an angel with outstretched wings and arms, and it read:

THE ANGELS ARE COMING!

OCTOBER 31ST IS USUALLY ALL HALLOW’S EVE, BUT THIS YEAR IT’S ALL ANGELS’ EVE.

We have prayed, and the angels have answered. By their loving grace, our world is about to be blessed with an even stronger angelic presence. The angels have heard our pleas, our hopes and dreams, and they are coming to us. Be there to help herald in a new, better world with the angels.

SPECIAL SERVICE AND CELEBRATION

CHURCH OF ANGELS MAIN CATHEDRAL, DENVER, CO

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 31ST, 4:00 P.M.

Sirius stared, at a loss for words.

The Invasion had been bad enough.

He tried to imagine the number of angels on earth doubling and then more arriving after that, and even more after that.

It would be wholesale slaughter of humans at that point.

And from the sounds of things, he was the only Angel Killer left.

“How can they . . . do this so publicly?” whispered Remus, touching the flyer.

Alice shrugged. “It’s the usual thing, hiding in plain view. Those who don’t believe will just think there’s nothing to it, that the Church of Angels is full of loonies.”

Remus hugged his elbows. “So all these people are going to come, to celebrate the angels — and the angels are going to feed off them?”

His voice sounded harsh with sorrow and revulsion.

Frank shook his head. “The arriving angels won’t be feeding just yet; this world will be totally new to them. It’ll take them some time to get settled, get acclimated. . . . Then it will start. But, yes, it’s still obscene — the thought of the crowd being so thrilled to see more angels arrive.”

Sirius frowned, trying to picture the scene. “How are they supposed to see them, if the angels aren’t feeding yet?”

Frank snorted. “It’s a special occasion,” he said. “The angels are going to lower their frequency on the ethereal plane as they fly through the cathedral — it’ll mean that the audience will be able to see them as they arrive. They’re looking forward to all the cheers.

Cheers. Sirius pitched the flyer onto the table, feeling sick.

“This wave, and the ones planned for following it, can’t be allowed to happen,” said Alice intently, leaning forward. “We were losing ground against the angels already. If even more arrive on this scale, we won’t have a chance — society as we currently know it will probably be gone in ten years.”

Remus made a small noise.

Sirius gripped his hand and glanced back at Frank.

“So fill me in on the angels’ grand plan,” he said. “If you infect all the humans with angel burn, how are you supposed to feed once they’re all dead?”

The angel looked reluctant. “As long as humans have children, angels will have fresh energy sources. I believe there are plans afoot to begin encouraging larger families among followers.”

It figured.

Sirius grimaced, unsurprised.

At his side, Remus had gone pale, his green eyes wide with horror.

"Oh, my God,” he murmured.

"As I said, the Second Wave can’t happen,” put in Alice. “We have to stop it; it’s our only hope.”

“How?” said Sirius after a pause. “Is there any way?”

There was a slight shift in the room as Frank and Alice glanced at each other.

Suddenly Sirius knew without a doubt: he wasn’t going to like whatever they suggested.

Slowly, Frank said, “There’s a thin . . . wall, let’s call it, of energy that separates our two worlds. When it was only small numbers of angels coming across on their own, the wall remained fairly stable — its energy was briefly disturbed by those passing, but it could restore itself. However, an exodus of this scale is very different. A special opening — a gate — has to be generated, so that hundreds of thousands of angels can pass through the wall in a short time without destroying it altogether. The wall will be extremely unstable for the twenty minutes or so that it will take for them all to fly through — it’s a very delicate operation.”

“It’s planned that the gate will open in the main Church of Angels cathedral at six tomorrow night, two hours after the service starts,” said Alice, indicating the flyer. “We’ve got someone inside the Church who’s helping us — we know all the details, including the exact position of the gate.”

“Right,” said Frank. “And what we think is . . . if the wall is disrupted just as the gate is starting to open, it’ll set off a chain reaction that will make it unusable. Effectively, it will slam shut for good keeping the remaining angels in our own world, away from this one.”

Sirius sat listening, rapping his fist against his knee. “So how exactly do you disrupt it?”

Instead of answering, Frank reached his hand out to Remus.

“May I?” he asked.

Remus hesitated and then put his hand in Frank's.

Frank closed his eyes; Sirius could see faint movement behind his lids, as if the angel were watching unseen images.

When he let go of Remus's hand, he sat and gazed at him for a few moments without speaking.

“Lucius was right,” he said.

“Lucius?” asked Remus. “Was that Emmeline's angel?”

Frank nodded. “He saw that your very existence is a danger to the angels; you have the means to destroy us all. I’ve just seen the same thing. Some of the images are unclear, but . . . ”

He turned to Alice. “It’s our best chance.”

“What is?” said Sirius sharply.

Reaching into her briefcase again, Alice pulled out a small stone and placed it on the table.

It looked almost like molten lead, gleaming with silvery lights.

Frank picked it up.

“This is a piece of angelica,” he said.

It was oval, just small enough to be hidden in his hand if he closed his fingers over it.

“It’s from my own world. It has several unique properties; one is that on the ethereal plane, it has a sort of . . . consciousness. If communicated with, its physical form will emit short, rapid bursts of energy at a very high frequency — more than enough to disrupt the wall when it’s in such a vulnerable state.”

His eyes rose to Remus's.

“You’re as unique as the angelica,” he told Remus. “Your angel form exists at the same time as your human one. That means you could communicate with the angelica, activating it at the same time that you place it within the opening gate — none of the rest of us could do that.”

Sirius stiffened as he realized. “Wait. You want Remus to be the one to do this?”

“He's the only one,” said Frank.

The angel handed the stone to Remus; looking stunned, he took it in slow motion, turning it over in his hand.

He bit his lip and glanced at Sirius. “If I did do it, then what would happen?”

Alice's expression was anxious, tight with tension. “We hope the gate would be destroyed, closing the wall for good.”

“You hope?” said Sirius, his words razor-sharp. “So you’re not exactly positive, are you?”

Their silence was assent.

“And what would happen to Remus? Would he be destroyed, too?”

Alice winced. “We don’t know that,” she said finally. “The wall will become extremely unstable; we don’t know exactly what form that will take. But, Remus, with you standing right beside it . . . ”

She didn’t finish.

Fear and rage leaped through Sirius; it was all he could do not to start punching things.

“And how would he get into the cathedral in the first place? It’s going to be a madhouse — tens of thousands of Church of Angels fanatics, who all want him dead! Just so he can do this thing that might kill him, that you hope will work?”

“We can get him in,” said Frank. “Our person in the Church will help. We’ve got a plan in place that will put him close to the gate without attracting notice.”

“Yeah, great,” said Sirius harshly. “And even if it all works, what happens if standing next to the gate doesn’t kill him? The angels don’t arrive, and everyone’s seen that he's the reason why — are they all just going to say, Oh, well, and go home?”

The agents didn’t answer.

Sirius glared at them. “They’d kill him, and you know it,” Sirius said in a low voice. “A small army couldn’t keep him safe in that situation.”

Then he saw the truth on their faces, and his jaw hardened. “Oh, except that you don’t think that’s going to happen, do you? You think the gate’s going to blow him to pieces, no matter what.”

There was a long silence, and then Alice let out a breath.

“Remus, he’s right, it’s tremendously dangerous. The gate’s reaction when the angelica touches it is likely to be . . . quite violent.”

“No way is he doing this,” said Sirius. “Seriously. No way in hell.”

“There’s more, though.” Alice glanced at Frank, who nodded.

“Angels are creatures of energy,” he said. “We all come from the same original source. So we’re individuals, but we’re also linked — whenever an angel dies, we all feel it. If the gate is closed and the wall disrupted, then those left in our own world would perish soon. With casualties on such a massive scale, it’s only a matter of time before the angels here would perish as well. We couldn’t survive for long with so many of us gone.”

Remus looked up at Frank. “But — if that happened, then you wouldn’t survive, either.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” said Frank.

He fell silent, tapping his fingers together. “The betrayal of my own kind isn’t a thing I take lightly,” he said finally. “But what’s happening is abhorrent. Even if it’s to save ourselves, we angels can’t cause such death and destruction to another race; we simply don’t have that right.”

Another time, Sirius might have been impressed by Frank's selflessness; as it was, he just wanted to strike him.

“Yeah, that’s really noble, but you’re not the one taking the risk here, are you? You’re asking Remus to do that, when nothing’s even certain.”

Alice's voice took on an edge. “The thing that’s certain is that if we do nothing, more angels will invade our world. If we act, we at least have a chance to destroy them all.”

Remus was silent, turning the silvery gray stone over in his hand.

Finally he said, “You really think it has to be me, don’t you?”

Sirius felt his stomach go into icy knots as he stared at Remus.

Frank nodded. “With the way your dual nature works, you’re the only one who can do it. Plus, it’s written all through your psyche — you’re the one who can destroy us.”

Remus was still gazing down at the stone. “And . . . how likely is it that the gate would close?”

“I can’t give you odds,” said Frank levelly. “We can’t really know what will happen until you try.”

Alice leaned forward, watching him intensely. “Remus, time is already extremely short,” she said. “If you agree to this, then we need to leave immediately, so that we can brief you and get things ready.”

“Remus, no,” said Sirius.

He gripped his arms. “No. There is no way that you can do this. Just no way.”

Remus looked up at him, and Sirius saw that he was close to tears.

He took a deep breath. “Could you excuse us, please?” He said to Alice and Frank.

Leaning over, he placed the angelica back on the table.

“Yes, of course.” Alice put the rock in her briefcase and snapped it shut; she and Frank stood up, scraping their chairs back. “We’ll be outside.”

The door shut behind them; Sirius hardly heard it.

“You can’t do this,” he said, still clutching Remus's arms. “You can’t. Tell me that you’re not serious.”

Remus was pale. “Sirius, I . . . I just don’t see that I have a choice.”

“Weren’t you listening? Remus, they think the gate will blow you apart; they don’t even know whether you can close it or not!”

Very slowly, he nodded. “I know,” he said.

Sudden fury gripped Sirius; his voice rose, ringing around the tiny cabin. “You cannot seriously be considering this! Have you gone completely insane? Do you want to just throw your life away? Is that your plan?”

A tear streaked onto Remus's cheek, but when he spoke, his tone was almost steady. “What else can I do — go to Mexico with you and ignore all of this? How could I live with myself, knowing that maybe I could have stopped the angels forever and I didn’t even try?”

“Remus, this isn’t the way. All this is going to do is kill you! Look, we’ll find a way to fight them; we’ll —”

He was holding Remus's arms too tightly; Remus pulled away, his face agonized.

“Of course this is the way! This is what it all means — don’t you see? My premonition last night, and Lucius's vision — I’m the only one who can stop them. This is how I have to do it!”

Terror that he was right turned Sirius's veins to ice. “No. You are not doing this; I’m not letting you.”

Remus's expression was so torn, so full of sorrow and love for him. “Sirius, if there’s even just a chance that I can stop the angels, then I have to try. You’ve fought them your whole life; you must understand —”

“Not like this!” he shouted. “This is suicide; they can’t even tell you if it’s going to work or not! Does throwing your life away really sound that good to you?”

“It’s not like I want to do it!” Remus cried, his eyes bright with tears. “All I want is to be with you and for things to be like they have been!”

“ Then do that,” he said. Sirius gripped his hands hard. “Remus, please — you don’t have to do this —”

Remus ducked his head, his mouth twisting against tears.

The pendant that Sirius had given him had worked its way out from under his sweater.

Letting go of his hand, Remus reached up and touched the crystal, stroking its facets.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Without looking at Sirius, he rose from the bed and moved stiffly to the table.

He started to tuck the clothes that he'd left out for the day’s journey into his bag.

“No!” Sirius leaped up, grabbed them away from him. “No. Remus, no — you are not doing this, you’re not —”

“I have to!” Remus burst out, spinning toward Sirius. “Don’t you get it? I don’t have a choice!”

He was actually going to do it — this thing that would kill him.

The world pounded in Sirius's ears as he stared at Remus.

All at once his chest felt tight; he could hardly breathe.

Oh, God, no. Not again, not someone else he loved.

Why had he allowed himself to believe that this time might be different? How could he have been so stupid?

“OK, so I guess you’ve decided,” he said finally.

“Sirius, I — I could never live with myself otherwise,” Remus said in a tiny voice. “I’d see my mother’s face every day for the rest of my life, and — and what about Emmeline and your family —?”

He broke off with a sob, covering his tear-streaked face with his hand.

Sirius wanted so badly to comfort him.

Instead he found himself glaring, almost trembling with anger. “Don’t bring my family into this. If you’re going to kill yourself, do it for your own reasons.”

He shoved the clothes at him.

Remus gulped; his hands were unsteady as he put the clothes away in his bag.

“Sirius, please understand. How could you and I ever have anything good together, if I walked away from this? I feel like it would — would poison things between us; we’d always know that —”

Sirius wouldn’t have thought it possible that he could hate Remus, but right then it felt close to it.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare say that you’re doing this for us,” he interrupted, his voice shaking. “There won’t be any us after you do this.”

Remus's bag wasn’t fastened; roughly, he reached over and tied it shut, then thrust it at him.

“Just — go,” he said. “Go on. They’re waiting for you.”

Swallowing hard, Remus clutched the bag to his chest. “Will — will you come?” He asked faintly.

His eyes. His face.

The words felt like ground glass in his throat. “No, thanks. I’ve seen enough people I care about die.”

Remus's face crumpled.

He looked away, his mouth trembling. “I — I guess I’d better go, then.”

“Yeah, I guess you’d better.”

Slowly, Remus started for the door, then stopped and flew back to Sirius, hugging him tightly.

“I love you,” Remus said as he started to sob. “Sirius, please. Please don’t let it end like this.”

He ached to hold Remus.

He couldn’t do it; he was frozen.

“Just go,” he said through clenched teeth.

Remus pulled away, gazing up into his face.

His green eyes were stricken.

“I know you don’t mean this,” he whispered. “I love you, Sirius. I’ll always love you.”

Sirius stood unmoving as Remus kissed him; Sirius could taste his tears.

He turned and ran for the door.

Then he was gone.

As if from a great distance, Sirius heard the sound of voices from outside, then footsteps moving away.

Silence.

He stood alone in the center of the room, his muscles quivering.

Abruptly, he picked up one of the chairs and hurled it across the cabin, sending it crashing against the wall.

Sinking down onto the edge of the table, he shoved his hands through his hair, breathing hard.

Around him were the still-rumpled sleeping bags where they’d slept the night before, his black nylon bag, packed with both their clothes.

Remus's green Converse sneakers still lay in the corner, one of them on its side.

What had happened? What had just happened?

For several minutes Sirius sat clutching his head, emotions crashing through him so violently that it felt like they’d tear him apart.

He heard the helicopter start up.

His head jerked up as the sound roared through him, spiking his pulse with sudden clarity.

Remus was in the helicopter.

He was about to fly away from Sirius— he’d probably never see him again.

He was on his feet so fast that the table scraped against the floor.

Lunging out of the cabin, he ran across the small clearing, skidded his way down the deer path.

“Remus!” he shouted. “Remus!”

The blades thudded in his ears as he burst out into the open.

The helicopter had already taken off; it was swinging away over the valley.

Sirius sprinted after it, jogging to a stop as the wind stirred his hair.

It was growing smaller; he couldn’t even see its occupants through the tinted windows.

Knowing it was hopeless, he put his hands to his mouth anyway.

“REMUS!”

The helicopter kept going.

As he watched, it moved away over the mountains, until it became a dark flyspeck and then vanished from sight, taking his heart with it.

Sirius stared after it, shaking.

Oh, God. Oh, God, what had he done?

Remus had most likely gone off to his death, and Sirius had actually told him to leave?

He hadn’t held Remus; he hadn’t even told him how much he loved him.

Sirius had let him go alone.

“No,” he said out loud.

No, this wasn’t going to happen.

This seriously wasn’t going to happen; it wasn’t going to end like this.

If Remus had to do this thing, fine, but he wasn’t going to do it alone, thinking that Sirius hated him.

He’d be there — to either help Remus or die with him, Sirius didn’t care which, as long as he didn’t have to live the rest of his life without Remus.

Denver by six o’clock tomorrow night.

He could make it if he drove nonstop.

Running back to the cabin, Sirius hurriedly changed from sweatpants into jeans and threw on his jacket.

He grabbed his wallet, the keys to the truck, his pistol and fresh cartridges.

He was back in the rocky valley minutes later, flinging himself into the driver’s seat of the truck and starting up the engine.

Spinning the wheel, he lurched out of the valley and started down the slope.

This wasn’t going to be like with Regulus.

He wasn’t going to let down someone else he loved