With a flash of radiance, an angel dove at someone right behind her. Alex quickly took aim, and felt dark amusement as Sophie stopped short, eyes wide – she apparently thought he was about to blow her head off. He pulled the trigger; the creature vanished into fragments. Sophie gave an alarmed cry as the rush of energy from the kill swept past. It affected you like that at first. Then you got so used to it you barely noticed any more.

“An angel,” Alex explained as he closed the distance between them.

Sophie gulped, nodded. “Yes, of course.” She glanced nervously at the boiling throng around them. “Alex, I need to talk to you.”

Before he could reply, frenzied screams broke out, along with a pulsing, hissing noise. People shoved past, drenched and running. Alex grabbed Sophie’s elbow, moving them hastily with the flow. More police had arrived, and they’d brought water cannons – jetting, merciless blasts that were knocking people off their feet, making them scramble away on all fours. In a matter of minutes, everyone still here was going to be arrested, and probably handed over to the angels. Jogging now, Alex veered towards the Palacio Nacional; through the dispersing crowd, he glimpsed Trish and Brendan, already heading that way. As he and Sophie ran, he pulled out his phone and punched a few buttons, calling the rest of the team in.

“I’ve rented a truck – it’s parked nearby,” panted Sophie.

He brought her aura into view, scanning it. No sign of angel burn. “Good,” he said shortly. “We’ll need it, to get through these streets.” And under everything was the constant heartbeat of Willow, please be okay – please, please...

As the team gathered, Alex frowned to see Wesley clutching his left forearm. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Wesley’s face was an ashen grey. “An angel was reaching for my life force. I shot it, but I think it tore away a little bit over my arm or something.”

Alex’s heart sank as he and Kara glanced at each other. He knew doctors could do nothing – Wesley would regain the use of his arm as his aura tried to heal, or he wouldn’t. It was how Cully had lost a leg. He tried to quell the immediate voice that told him this was his fault; that he shouldn’t have had the team out on their own yet.

Wesley’s expression had gone hard, watching them. “What?” he demanded. “It’ll be better in time for the attack, right?”

“If we’re lucky,” said Alex. Their late-night conversation in the range came rushing back; hiding his doubt, he clasped Wesley’s good shoulder. “Seriously, it could be totally fine – we just need to get you back so you can rest.”

“Alex, I have got to take part in the attack—”

He broke off as Trish drew closer, her face creased with concern. “Wes, are you okay?”