So it was only common sense that I took Alex. Even so, my heart thudded as we reached the edge, and I knew what we were about to do was only part of it. For a second, Alex’s blue-grey eyes were unguarded as we glanced at each other; my pulse skipped at the expression in them. Oh god, if I knew for certain we were about to die, I’d tell him everything.

The crowd of almost a hundred people had seen our angels now, and stopped uncertainly. Some carried makeshift weapons – jagged pieces of wood that looked like they’d been torn from picture frames. Raziel appeared from their midst in his human form, his poet’s face contorted as he yelled at them. I didn’t have to speak Spanish to get what he was saying: See, they have no halos! They’re not real angels, it’s a trick! They killed the Council, don’t let them get away!

Trish and Wesley burst up from the stairwell. “They’re Angel Killers! Stop them!” Feeling sick, I tore my gaze from their familiar faces. This was not the time to think about it.

“Okay, let’s do it,” said Alex grimly. He wrapped his arms around me and I held onto him, feeling his heart beating against mine. Beside me, Sam was lifting Liz up into his arms as Seb stood behind him, supporting him across the chest. My eyes met Seb’s as both of us silently urged the other on. Our angels hovered overhead, centring themselves, getting ready.

The crowd charged. Trish and Wesley were gaining on the others, still shouting. At the head of them all was Raziel, his suit jacket flapping – and as I glanced back, for a dizzying second I was catapulted into his head again. I caught my breath in shock at what I found there, my arms tightening around Alex.

Half the angels in the world were dead.

Raziel knew it instinctively, just like he knew his own heartbeat. Half the angels were really gone. Gone. I felt a rush of dazed relief...then stiffened as other knowledge came. Raziel was intrigued by me, sorry that I had to die. He’d enjoyed wandering around in my thoughts.

Suddenly it was like a gate had been slammed shut, severing the connection. “You don’t actually think you’ll get away, do you?” called my father, the wind whipping at his words as he ran towards us.

I shivered as I stared at him. I hated that he’d been in my mind; if I could dip my brain in bleach, I’d do it.

“One way to find out,” I said softly. And as my angel put her arms around us, Alex and I stepped over the edge.