Alex swore as he jumped off the car. “The idiots – why are they going for an enclosed space, where they can get backed against a wall? They’re all about to be killed.” He yanked on his helmet.

I’d already slid off the car behind him and was grabbing for my own helmet. “Can we get through the crowd?” I asked, raising my voice over the sound of the next band that had just come on. The street was full of hundreds of pedestrians milling around, dancing to the music. Lots of them wore angel wings, feathery and surreal in the half-light.

“We’ve got to,” said Alex shortly. We straddled the bike and he revved it; at the sound of the engine, the people nearby gave way. He nudged the Shadow through as fast as he could, honking the horn. Finally we reached the main road and he opened up the accelerator with a roar. As we sped south, I could just see the flock of three, heading away over the buildings. Alex did too; he took off after them, weaving in and out of traffic. They vanished from view and he took an abrupt turn, and then another, sending us hurtling around corners.

The angels were nowhere in sight.

Suddenly I could feel which way we should go, throbbing through me with absolute conviction. “That way!” I shouted in Alex’s ear, pointing to a street off to the right. He took it, and soon we were barrelling down a long road that was mostly businesses, run-down and seedy. Behind a faded pink stucco house, the tips of the angels’ wings flashed in and out of view.

Alex screeched to a halt. In the sudden silence we could hear shouts. Bars covered the windows; a wrought-iron gate stood open, showing the drive. No lights – the place almost seemed abandoned, except for a white van. I felt Alex’s energy lift again, scanning quickly.

“All three of them are back there,” he muttered, flinging his helmet off.

I looked at the house...and the moment froze. My scalp prickled as the darkness of the barred windows reeled me in like a black hole. Something was going to happen here – something that would make both of us so unhappy.

I shook the idea away; it had to just be nerves or something. But the coldness remained, and as the frightened shouts rang through the night, they almost seemed to be coming from inside my own head, dreading whatever was to come.

Willow stood motionless, staring up at the house with wide eyes. “Come on!” said Alex. He grabbed her hand, and she seemed to return to herself with a start. They raced down the driveway as the shouts grew louder.

“Get away from me!” yelled someone. The words were in English; the voice sounded American. The faint thud of silenced gunfire came from nearby.