Battle Angel (Immortal City 3)

He turned back to Jackson.

“For the mortals, there is a cycle of birth and death,” said Gabriel. “This, sadly, may be their death. And their fate. According to some readings of the Book of Angels, this is exactly what is supposed to happen. Everything has its place, Jackson.”

“I understand,” Jacks said, his eyes fixed on Gabriel.

“Thank you, my son. This is a difficult time for all of us,” Gabriel said. “No Angel wanted this; we have always wanted to protect humanity, and it won’t be easy for any of us. I know it will perhaps be even more difficult for you than many. But I’m glad you understand.”

The elder True Immortal now gave Jacks a bittersweet smile, but his eyes were dancing with light, still young in their Immortal age.

• • •

On their way out of the solarium, Jacks and Mark ran into Louis Kreuz, the brash and outspoken head of Guardian training. Kreuz wasn’t wearing his normal full suit, but he did have on his broad pinstripe trousers and trademark suspenders strapped over his French-cuffed Brooks Brothers shirt.

“Godspeeds,” he said, nodding, lighting a match for the Cuban cigar pressed between his lips. Surprisingly, Gabriel didn’t mind his smoking in the solarium. “Haven’t seen you in a bit, Jackson.” His eyes seemed to study Jackson’s face a little more closely than usual. “Been in to see the Big Cheese?” he said, nodding toward the Council chambers.

“Hi, Louis,” Jacks said. He liked Kreuz—quite a bit, actually. Louis had supported him strongly throughout all his training. “Good to see you,” he said awkwardly, still lost in thought after his meeting with Gabriel. “Sorry to be so short, but we’re in a bit of a hurry.”

Kreuz shot Jacks a strange glance as he and Mark walked away, then took a puff from his finally lit cigar and shook the match in his big fingers until the flame went out.

Jackson and Mark continued down the long sanctuary halls, dozens of Angels nodding at them as they walked along. The two Godspeeds together—Jacks still in his Battle Angel armor, Mark in his tailored suit—made an impressive duo.

“Jackson, I’m very proud of how you’ve been handling yourself through all this,” Mark said. “You’ve shown yourself to be a true Angel and patriot for the Immortals.”

They walked a few steps before Jackson responded.

“I’ve seen what can come of having . . . other loyalties,” Jacks said.

“Believe me, we’ve had many long debates about whether there are circumstances under which we could help the humans,” Mark said. “And it just isn’t possible.”

“Like I told Gabriel, Mark, I understand,” he said.

“Good,” Mark said as they entered an atrium. “And I’m sorry that he mentioned . . . Madison in there, Jacks. It’s no secret among the Council that you two were quite serious. Gabriel pressed me hard, and I was honest with him about your feelings. As you know, it’s always best to be absolutely honest with Gabriel and the Council.”

“There’s nothing to be said about it, Mark,” Jackson said, cool and crisp. “I just want to carry out our duty.”

“Good,” Mark said. He clapped a hand on Jacks’s shoulder. “Your mother has been wondering about you

. Will you come say hello? Just for a second?”

• • •

The Godspeed quarters were large and suitably appointed for Angels of their standing, with Chloe having a whole section to herself since Jacks had his own place. Chloe was shopping with friends somewhere in the sanctuary when Jacks and Mark arrived, but Jackson’s mother, Kris, was there to greet them. Mark drifted off into the master bedroom, leaving mother and son alone in the room.

“Jackson,” she said. She came up and gave him a hug, then stepped back to look at him in his armor. “Look at you. Wow. How does it feel . . . ? The armor, I mean.”

His mother’s voice sounded as if it was coming from a thousand miles away. Jackson’s mind was elsewhere. Outside in the sun. Standing on a pier.

“Jacks, are you okay?” Kris asked.

He turned away from her. “Of course. Nothing’s wrong, Mom,” Jackson said, trying to hide the pain in his voice. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

But his mother knew her son too well, and she placed a consoling hand on his armored shoulder.

“Is it her?” Kris asked. “Up there, left to whatever the Dark Ones will do?” Jacks kept silent. He was tired of everyone prying into his personal life. Everyone seemed to have an opinion.

“You know, I lost your father, Jacks,” she went on. “You can talk to me if you want to. I’m here.”

“I know,” Jacks said, nodding. “Of course I know.” The thoughts, first of Maddy and then of his father, practically gutted him. But still, he wanted—he needed—to be strong.