“This is not a test,” an electronic female voice announced. “This is the Emergency Broadcast System. A state of emergency has been declared. All residents of Angel City and immediate areas are ordered to stay indoors at this time. A citywide curfew has been put in place—”
Maddy switched the station. The message continued. “I repeat, this is not a test. Emergency shelters are located at—”
Maddy switched the station again. Same thing. Every station was broadcasting it. When the message ended, it simply started over again. Something about that message made this whole situation even more real. Made it worse. She listened to the robotic voice play again and again. This is not a test. This is not a test. She glanced up at the sky, which was beginning to darken. The sunny day was growing dim as a gray blanket of clouds stretched over the city. Wind gusts shot past the Audi now, almost shrieking. What was going to happen? What kind of hell were they in for? Gradually Maddy began to recognize her all-too-familiar surroundings. She was headed toward the heart of Angel City—home. She pulled her fingers through her hair and wiped her puffy eyes. The exit for Angel Boulevard approached, and she pulled onto the off-ramp.
Angel City, Maddy thought darkly. It was both the place she had always dreamed of leaving and the place that seemed destined to keep her. Every time she had tried to escape it, something about it only drew her back in. She felt caught in its web of crisscrossing streets, the allure of its bright downtown lights. It was capital city to the Immortals, and the unrivaled symbol of Angels and their power around the world. More than a city, it was an idea. It was synonymous with wealth, celebrity, and power—the perfect icon to represent the lavish Angel lifestyle that most of the world envied and craved. Maddy swung down Highland, passing under glowing billboards showing famous Angels selling handbags, cars, and perfume. On one of the billboards was her own face, smiling seductively and holding a bottle of Chanel perfume. Maddy felt her stomach turn. On any other day, she wouldn’t have been able to bear looking at it, but now she couldn’t look away. Someone had spray-painted TRAITOR over her face in an angry red scrawl.
She drove down the world-famous Angel Boulevard, past the tourist shops and the Walk of Angels. Angel Stars blurred by on the pavement. How many millions of people had come from all over the world to pose next to those stars and take pictures with them? She used to weave around those tourists on her way to school, wondering how anyone could care so much about a sidewalk. Now she had an Angel Star of her own; now her name was etched in gleaming gold in the ground. It still felt strange. She was a famous Guardian Angel. The most famous Guardian Angel. She shook her head, thinking of how much she had wanted to just leave two years ago. Would she ever get out of this city? Maybe the bigger question was, would she ever get Angel City out of her? She used to think so, but now she wasn’t so sure. Just as the ground had been etched with her name, she felt the city had been etched on her, too. As permanently as a tattoo. The tourist shops were all closed up now. No plastic wings for sale. No T-shirts with slogans like SAVE ME! or PROTECTION. The metal doors were all rolled shut.
Maddy squinted as she looked down the street through her windshield. There was life up ahead, a crowd gathered around the Temple of Angels. The last thing Maddy wanted right now was to be recognized. She sank down in her seat as she approached, but she couldn’t help but ease up on the gas and look as she passed. In spite of the danger that was close at hand, a grab bag of fans, thrill seekers, and stranded tourists had gathered outside the temple in a bizarre, circus-like display. Several people stood in a huddle, holding a candlelight vigil. Others danced. Still others fought. There were young Angel-crazy girls, Angel experts, and families. There was even a man wearing nothing but a white loincloth, Rollerblades, and neon sunglasses. He had taped styrofoam wings to his back and rolled around the crowd while others tried not to stare at his loincloth. It seemed the die-hard Angel fans had already managed to splinter themselves into even smaller categories. One group appeared to be anti-Maddy, calling her a traitor to the Angels, while another equally sized group held up signs that glorified Maddy and praised her for being a “true” Angel. Maddy groaned. It was worse than she’d thought. She cut the wheel and swung up a side street to avoid the rest of it.
As she turned off Angel Boulevard, a familiar sign came into view. Although it was off, she could still make out the neon lettering against the fading paint. Kevin’s. Her uncle’s diner, where she had worked all through high school. And the place where she had met Jacks. It was dark inside now. No one sat in the booths; no food was being served. How could it have been just two years ago that she was a waitress there? It felt like another lifetime. She pulled past the diner and into the driveway of her
uncle’s house just past the restaurant. She looked up at the small, two-story bungalow where she grew up. The simple, aging house stood bravely in the gusts of the oncoming weather. With all that had changed in her life, there had always been this dependable house. A companion. A friend. An island of consistency in the ever-changing sea of time. She cut the Audi’s engine and stepped out.
There was Kevin, standing in the doorway, his face creased with concern. He wore old jeans and a worn, flannel shirt—his uniform.
“You’re back,” he said, and Maddy could tell he was trying not to appear like he had worried too much. He searched Maddy’s face with his intelligent gray eyes. “And . . . Tom?”
“He’s gone,” Maddy said, trying to keep her voice steady. “The fleet is going to fight.”
Kevin’s face darkened. After a moment, he nodded.
“Jacks was there, too,” Maddy added.
“What?” Kevin’s tone took on a harshness. “What did he want?” Kevin’s opinion of Jacks had been like a roller-coaster ride over the past two years. Of course, he didn’t care for Angels on principle, and had downright hated them after what happened to his sister. He had done his best to give Jacks a chance when it became clear that he was in Maddy’s life, like it or not. But now he had hardened his heart toward Immortals once again. Kevin was pro-Maddy until the bitter end. He would do his best to support her in whatever she wanted, despite his own reservations or opinions. It was the reason why Maddy loved Kevin so much.
“He offered me a choice,” Maddy said quietly. “To go with him and the other Angels.”
“I see. . . . Well, what did you say?”
Maddy bit her lip. How would Kevin feel about her decision? She might be the most famous Guardian Angel in the world, but she would always care about what Uncle Kevin thought of her and her actions. She just couldn’t help it. Just like when she was a little girl, part of her always wanted his approval.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” she said at last. Then she quickly added, “Tom asked me to wait for him.”
Kevin paused, as if searching for the right thing to say. But when his response finally came, it was simple. And just what Maddy needed to hear.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said. “Tom is going to be okay. We all are.”
“Do you really believe that?” Maddy asked softly.
“I have to, Mads.” Kevin gave his most reassuring smile. “And so should you.” Then he grinned even wider, the corners of his mouth wrinkling up in the way she knew so well. “Want some ginger tea?”
“Okay.” Maddy smiled. She wasn’t going to argue with ginger tea. Kevin always made ginger tea for her when she was sick, or just feeling under the weather, with lemon and loads of honey.
• • •
Kevin headed into the kitchen, and Maddy walked into the little living room, with its secondhand furniture and the pictures of her as a kid. There were some new photos, too: pictures of Maddy from Angels Weekly and the newspaper, which Kevin had cut out and clumsily fit into frames. Maddy heard from the kitchen the familiar sounds of the gas stove snapping on, the whoosh of the flame, and the kettle being placed on the burner. As she listened to the heating water begin to murmur, she let herself lie back and sink into the couch. For this one small moment, there was suddenly nothing for her to do. After everything that had happened, she now found herself in a little pocket of calm. She sat quietly, just listening to her uncle make the tea. Her gaze settled on the new flat-screen TV, the only piece of furniture or technology in the house that had been manufactured after 1998. She grabbed the remote and turned it on.
“And the question on everyone’s mind is,” said a stoic-looking woman in a blue suit, “where are the Angels? Guardian Angels in the Immortal City have disappeared overnight, leaving everyone to wonder where they have gone, and whether they will be coming back.” A graphic of an Immortal Ring appeared next to the women’s head, cueing Maddy to play with her own. “The Angels have disappeared from the glittering Immortal City, and fans willing to brave security checkpoints and the possibility of being caught in a war zone have come to the Walk of Angels to participate in a candlelight vigil in hopes that the beautiful Immortals will return.”
Maddy changed the channel to NBC News, where she was shocked to see Tara Reeves, the usually bubbly host of A!’s morning gossip show, standing in front of the camera. Tara had finally made the switch from entertainment reporter to news journalist, covering the Angel crisis and the mysterious sinkhole threatening to swallow Angel City. It must have been more than shocking for her normal A! audience to see her now, though: Tara had switched her look from glamorous red-carpet reporter to something more like an international war correspondent. She wore smartly cut khakis and a sensible button-up shirt, and had her hair drawn back in a ponytail. Of course, her makeup was still impeccable, her high-waisted trousers were Gucci, and she totally couldn’t resist accessorizing with a Louis Vuitton field bag.
“I’m Tara Reeves, reporting live from Angel City for NBC News,” she began in a breathless, urgent tone. “The question on everyone’s lips as Angel City faces a possible threat is, where are they? All those beautiful mansions in the Hills empty. All those glamorous cars sitting in garages instead of cruising down the freeways. Security isn’t letting anyone up near the houses, but authorities are confirming that no one is home. Where are the Angels of the Immortal City?” Tara walked her cameraman to a large crowd gathered at the Temple of Angels.
“Despite the Angels’ disappearance,” she announced with signature drama, “their true fans, as they call themselves, remain undaunted. They are determined to support their Angels, no matter what they do.” The camera panned over the crowd Maddy had seen on her drive home. Some of the fans had SAVE ME T-shirts on, while others held up signs displaying Ted Linden’s face crossed out with big red X’s. They were chanting something, but it was hard to make out what.
“Their message?” Tara quipped as the camera scanned the scene. “Bring back our Angels. They stand in front of the Temple of Angels, the very same temple where the glamorous Commissioning takes place. The building stands silent now, no Immortals to be seen.” The report switched to interviews with several of the fans in the crowd. The first was a teenage girl with her mother. The girl was wearing an oversize shirt bearing a name that made Maddy’s stomach twist: Emily Brightchurch.