‘Why not?’ He sounds resigned. ‘Might as well fly into the heart of the enemy where the primitive natives can tear me to pieces, sell my body parts for money, and grind the rest to be consumed in teas for sexual potency.’

I tighten my arms around his neck. ‘We’re not that primitive anymore.’

He arches his perfect eyebrow at me, sending waves of skepticism.

‘We have Viagra now.’

He gives me a sideways glance as if he suspects what that is.

We fly over the water and down the East Bay landmass as the sun sets. Steering clear of the aerie, we take the long way around toward Resistance headquarters. There is a surprising number of angels in the air today. They fly in formation from every direction toward Half Moon Bay, where the new aerie is located.

When we see a particularly large group in the air, we land in front of a mall and lie low beneath the awning of a Macy’s department store.

‘They must be flying in for the Messenger election,’ says Raffe. There’s worry in his voice as he watches the host of angels flying above us.

I unwrap my arms from his neck and step away from his warmth. It feels chilly on my own under the department store awning. ‘You mean there are more angels coming into the area? Like we didn’t have enough on our hands.’

From this distance, the angels look like they’re inching across the sky. Raffe watches them fly overhead. His body twitches just a little, looking like he’s making an effort not to jump into the air and join them.

‘What was it like to be one of them?’ I ask.

He gazes at the sky for a long moment before saying anything. ‘My Watchers and I were on a mission once to clear the area of a demon invasion. Except we couldn’t find any demons. But Cyclone, one of my Watchers, was so worked up for a battle that he wouldn’t accept that there was no one to fight.’

He nods toward the angels flying in the distance. ‘We were flying in formation like that when Cyclone suddenly decided that if he could just cause a big enough scene, then the demons would be attracted to the noise and destruction and they’d come to us. So he started flying in circles as fast as he could, sure that he would cause a cyclone.’

He smiles at the memory. ‘Half of us joined him as a lark while the rest of us landed to watch and heckle. We started throwing things at him – twigs, leaves, mud, whatever we could find – because everyone knows that a tornado should have debris.’