Willow shot him a concerned glance; for a second, it was as if things between them were the same as always. “Go on to the gate and tell the guard you’ve got a delivery,” she said suddenly. “I think I might have an idea.”

Seb seemed to sense whatever it was; in the rear-view mirror, Alex saw his face slacken in surprise. “Willow, I’m not sure this is even possible – and besides, you’ve never tried it!” he burst out.

“Well, no time like the present,” she muttered, shoving a hand through her red-gold spikes. “And since it happened to you once, it shouldn’t be impossible for us to do it at will, right? In theory, anyway.”

The conversation with half its words missing did nothing to reassure Alex. But they didn’t have much to lose. They were almost at the service entrance by then, with the building looming up over them; he turned into the barricaded drive and stopped by the guard booth. Putting on a relaxed smile, he said, “Buenos días, Señor. I’ve got a delivery for Ortega Graphics.”

The guard frowned, his gaze scanning over the blue 4 x 4. Just beyond the security barrier, a blocker rose out of the drive: a huge metal wedge that faced them like a solid wall. It would stay there until the guard lowered it into the ground.

“Oh?” said the guard. “What company are you with?”

Alex named a company that often made deliveries to Ortega. In a white van, which this so totally wasn’t. Not to mention that he looked like he was dressed to go to church or something.

Beside him, he was aware of Willow concentrating hard; shifting his consciousness, he saw her angel self soar out of the truck and hover unseen near the guard booth. Meanwhile, the man’s expression had turned even more suspicious. “Un momento, I’ll have to confirm this.” He rarely confirmed deliveries for Ortega – just let the drivers through and then buzzed someone to come down.

Alex could feel Willow’s human self straining with effort. And then slowly, her angel became more...tangible. There was no other way to describe it. Instead of an ethereal being of light, she shifted until she looked almost solid, as if Alex could reach his hand out the window and stroke one of her gleaming wings. It was what the angels of the Second Wave had done, he thought in a daze: slowed down their frequency so they could be seen.

Instead of reaching for the phone, the guard stood gaping, taking in the radiant creature that had suddenly appeared before him, emanating peace and kindness. The psychic blast Willow’s angel sent towards him was so strong that Alex caught it too: Let them in. It’s all right. Let them in.