Battle Angel (Immortal City 3)

“I’d like to say something about Tom Cooper. Tom represented what was best in us as humans. He was loyal and loving, imperfect and maddening. He had heart. He was courageous. He was a true hero, in

the face of tall odds. He saved my life, and died doing it. I know what it’s like to want to save someone you love. I know the feeling that led him to want to sacrifice his life.

“Many of you have also lost people you loved during this battle for Angel City. You may be wondering, Why him? Why her? There are no answers. Just know that they did not die in vain. Here we made a stand against the darkness. Here, in Angel City, the darkness was vanquished.

“Tom had faced death once before while defending this city, this country, this world. His plane crashed during the second wave of attacks and it was only through chance that an Angel found him floating in the waves.” Maddy’s voice broke for a moment, and she wiped tears away from under the sunglasses. “Even after he’d been badly injured, Tom still risked his life and gave his all. He saved me and, in the process, saved us all. And for that, we should be grateful. I know I will never be able to repay him for everything he’s taught me, or for what he did for me.”

Leaning down, Maddy reached into the brown paper bag for the last item she had brought with her.

She lay Tom’s leather jacket—the one he’d always worn to fly, and the one he’d worn when he first kissed Maddy—on the memorial.

“Tom, we’ll never forget you.”

• • •

The Walk of Angels was now a place for open displays of grief, a place for respect, and a place for reflection. Instead of paparazzi and designer boutiques, the pavement was lined with tributes, poems, and photos of those lost in the battle with the demon army. With cell phones and Internet still mostly down, it was also a place for families and loved ones who had been separated in the demon attack to try to find each other again. On a chain-link fence to the side of the temporary memorial for those who had died were pasted hundreds of notices looking for the missing.

Those military and civilian militia members wounded in the battle also moved in the crowds, paying solemn honor to those who had fought shoulder-to-shoulder with them on the front lines. Displayed above them was a large photograph of Archangel Mark Godspeed. In the portrait, Jackson’s stepfather stood in the head offices of the NAS, wearing his tailored Italian suit, one hand in the pocket of his trousers, the button on his jacket undone. This was the way Jacks would always remember him. To the left of the portrait was a smaller photo of Mark with his family, Kris, Chloe, and Jacks.

And pinned nearby was a large photo of Lieutenant Tom Cooper, U.S. Navy.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Maddy slipped past the security guard quietly. She knew he’d let her in if he saw who she was, but she just didn’t want to deal with being recognized right now. She didn’t want to explain why she was there at 1:45 in the morning, especially when she didn’t really know herself. Another night wide awake. She’d put on her hoodie and jeans and crept out of the house, careful not to wake Kevin, who was safe and snoring down the hall. Maddy got in her car, but she hadn’t had a destination in mind. But something had drawn her to the temple, and this was where she found herself now.

• • •

She stood in front of the ruined arches of the Temple of Angels, here and there a spot in the wreckage still smoldering, a full week after the battle. For years the temple had been the focus of the most glamorous and prestigious Angel events, a thousand camera shutters clicking every second as the perfect Immortals exited their limousines to walk the red carpet. Maddy stepped carefully among the rubble that used to make up the grand entrance, where all the on-carpet interviews were done—where, every year, Tara interrogated every beautiful Angel about “who” she was wearing. Now it was just a heap of marble and stone. A crow jumped around the top of the debris, poking its beak into the stones. It cawed at Maddy as she approached.

“Shoo.” She waved at it and it flapped away into the night.

Walking farther inside, Maddy’s eyes scanned up to the skeletal flying buttresses, the only standing remains of the collapsed half of the temple. The back half of the temple remained somewhat standing, with the roof sagging and broken in parts, but still proudly hanging on. Par-tially broken panes of stained-glass windows looked up to the stars. This used to be the site of all the pomp and circumstance of the Angels, Maddy thought, the focal point every year for the world to observe everything Angel. Would it ever stand again?

Maddy heard a noise and jolted upright.

“Hello?” she said cautiously.

A face emerged from the shadows. She would have recognized the pale blue eyes and full cheekbones anywhere.

It was Jackson.

“Jacks? What are you doing here?” she said in shock.

“I could ask the same of you,” he said, walking out of the shadows and into the moonlight spilling into the mostly collapsed church.

“I couldn’t sleep,” said Maddy.

“Me neither,” Jacks said. He looked at her with those eyes. “How’d you get in?”

“Snuck in. You?”

“Slipped the guard a hundred,” Jackson said.

“What were you doing hiding out over there?” she said, pointing to the shadows behind the pillar.

“We’re not supposed to be here, you know,” he said. “I heard someone, and I wanted to see who it was. And turns out it was Maddy Montgomery.”

“Turns out,” she said.