Alex checked his pistol, concealing it between his body and the parked car. I felt him shifting through his chakra points, so that when he turned around again his gaze found the angels as easily as I had. “Okay,” he said, regarding them grimly. “Any idea what we should do next? Was there anything else in your dream?”

The only thing in my dream I hadn’t told him about was the strange boy, and my reaction to him – it had just seemed too weird to mention. I shook my head, watching the angels as they hunted. I knew if Alex were here on his own he’d be slipping into the crowd to kill all three if he could, before they started feeding.

“Don’t let me hold you back,” I said, looking up at him. “I’m serious.”

He let out a breath; I could see the conflict in his blue-grey eyes. Still studying the square, he put his arm around me. “No, I’m not going to leave you on your own with angels around.”

“Alex, it’s okay. I can take care of myself.”

“Your angel self can,” he agreed. “But until you learn how to shoot, your human self is so vulnerable it gives me nightmares. Willow, all it would take would be two angels ganging up on you, and they’d rip your life force away.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. Okay, I didn’t exactly have an answer for that.

Alex squeezed my hand, then glanced at the roof of the parked car behind us. “Come on. Let’s sit up here where we can keep an eye on things; see why your psychic powers brought us here.”

He vaulted nimbly onto the car’s hood and then the roof, leaning over to help me up. Plenty of people around us were doing the same, though presumably in their case the cars in question were their own. Some had even brought coolers full of beer and food, as if the concert were a giant Fourth of July picnic. The night was mild – apparently the weather here was like a perpetual springtime.

Trying to ignore the angels, I stared out at the square, with its buildings that looked so completely unlike anything in the United States. Especially the cathedral. It was actually two cathedrals: the massive main one with its tiered bell towers and angel-topped dome, and then another, smaller, one just beside it, with ornate stonework framing a broad wooden door.

“The tabernacle,” said Alex, following my gaze. “I think it was built at a later date – I’m not sure why.”

I nodded slowly, taking it all in: the ancient-looking stone, the cars, the vibrant crowd. There was a real buzz in the air – and not only here; I’d been noticing it ever since we got into the city. It tickled at my senses like something tangible.