A Crack in Everything (11 page)

‘Angel?’ The word was high and wavering, terrified, appalled. They dodged through the parked cars and headed for the more modern block on the south side, as far away from where Haniel and the shades were locked in combat. ‘
That
was an angel?’

‘Yes.’ Humans always thought that angels were peace-loving ambassadors of goodness. Having met more than his fair share, Jinx could never figure out why. Good PR, perhaps. He almost laughed, giddiness fuelled by hysteria. The best PR, he supposed. The highest authority. ‘We need to hide. Need to find somewhere safe.’

‘Safe,’ she panted. ‘Yes, safe is good.’

Safe
, Jinx thought to himself,
is
subjective
. She was following him. She’d follow him right to Holly, and Holly could set him free of her. He just had to get her there before anyone else found them.

He fixed his mind on the nearest opening to his world. Not near, unfortunately, not as near as the one that had brought him here, but to go that way meant retracing their steps and he wasn’t keen to run into anyone back there or to try to skirt a battle that might end at any second. His body still ached from the touch of the angel’s power.

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered if he could get the girl
to Holly and be rid of her. He couldn’t afford to think about what might happen next. To either of them.

Pulling her to a halt beside a black Prius, Jinx pressed his hand against the handle. The metal made his skin crawl for a moment, but he pushed the sensation aside, accustomed to living with the metal in the modern world in a way his ancestors never were. If he couldn’t shrug off the pollutants in the air or the metals all around him daily, he might as well go and live in the last remaining patches of trees in the middle of nowhere. Besides he lived with silver every day of his life, punching through his skin. If he could stand that, he could stand anything. He exerted a little energy to spring the locks, which opened with a satisfying clunk.

‘What are you—?’

‘Climb in,’ he told her. ‘We’re getting out of here.’

‘But you can’t just—’

He couldn’t? Of course he could. He was Sídhe. Thieves, charlatans, tricksters, every one.

‘Watch me, Izzy. Now get in the car before someone sees.’

She jerked open the passenger door and slid inside, even as he slammed his own and jerked the seatbelt into place.

‘What if we get caught?’

Jinx glanced pointedly the way they’d come. ‘If you mean by the cops, they’d be the least of our worries. But we won’t. They won’t even see us. I promise. Put your belt on.’

She fumbled as she obeyed him, her hands shaking so hard she could barely do it. He felt a moment of sympathy for her,
an urge to tell her it would be all right. In short, to lie. He didn’t though. He was feeding her enough lies already.

Jinx shoved the car into gear and they sped off. He liked it, liked the way it handled, liked the feel of it around and under him. They pulled out onto the dual carriageway, heading for town and home.

He glanced at Izzy to say something, but then caught sight of her face, the pain and horror etched there, the silvering of tears, the redness of her eyes.

The flippancy left him. ‘What happened?’

Izzy ground the heels of her hands against her eyes. ‘I just … I …’ Dragging in a juddering breath she struggled to bring herself under control. If she started hesitantly, in moments words flowed from her like a gushing wound. ‘It’s my dad. He was in an accident and he’s in a coma. And there was this woman who said bring him water and I … I don’t think she was a nurse. But I screwed it up and spilled it and she went mental. And she and Mum were fighting and all the alarms …’ Her voice trailed off. A strange twist of sympathy wrung at his heart. He gazed at her. She was dangerous. She had no idea how dangerous. But right now all he wanted to do was make the pain and fear stop. He almost reached out to her, but when she spoke again, common sense slammed back into him. ‘Jinx, my dad had the same mark on his neck. I never saw it before, but he has it.’

‘The mark?’

‘This mark.’ She twisted around and jerked down the neck
of her top.

Jinx almost crashed the car. Locking his arms on the wheel, he brought it under his control once more. ‘Cover that up!’

She glared at him, the Celtic cross hidden again. Her eyes flashed with anger. ‘What is it? What the hell happened to me? I want an explanation, Jinx. I want answers. What is going on and how is my father tied up in it?’

Grigori … damn it. This wasn’t just about her and the council wanting the angel’s spark she held.

Her father and Izzy, someone – or something – was after them both.

Chapter Eleven

Balance

I
zzy waited, watching Jinx fix his jaw and concentrate all his attention on the car. She shouldn’t be here. She knew that. A voice seemed to whisper it over and over inside her head, a voice like a memory or an echo in the back of her mind. Shouldn’t be with him. Shouldn’t be in a stolen car. Should never have left Dad. Shouldn’t have run off when Mum was arguing with that bitch.
‘Should just do what you’re told …’

But she’d panicked, she’d been terrified, she’d needed to get away from them. And outside …

Outside she found Jinx, and demons, and an angel. And all that madness again.

I want answers.

She still did. She just wasn’t entirely sure if she would like them when she heard them.

He turned off the main road, heading towards the coast instead. Killiney Hill jutted from the landscape and press of houses up ahead of them, a cluster of green topped with the brilliant white point of the Obelisk. ‘Where are we going?’ she asked.

‘There,’ Jinx grunted and nodded towards the hill. ‘It’s green, natural forest – as much as you get around here anyway – and there should be a gate there.’

‘A gate?’

‘A way to Sídhe-space, back to Dubh Linn along the Sídhe-ways. And even if there isn’t, it’s safer. If nothing else it’ll help me think more clearly.’ He said that like ‘green’ was something special – like air, food or water.

‘There will be people everywhere. Do you know how many people walk their dogs up there? There’s a freakin’ children’s playground. What if those … those things come after us up there?’

People didn’t walk their dogs at night though, or let their kids run through forests in the dark. And it was growing dark. How had it got so late?

Jinx didn’t answer at first. His dark eyes hardened to stones. ‘They will. You need to prepare for that. They don’t stop once they have a trail. None of them. Neither the demonspawn nor the angels.’

Another angel. But she’d seen the look in his eyes, the murderous look, and witnessed the pain he’d caused Jinx.

‘I thought angels were meant to be … good.’

Jinx snorted and changed gear with some feeling. ‘They think they are.’

‘Well … kind then. Gentle?’

‘Do you know what angels are?’

‘God’s messengers?’

He laughed, a low unsettling chuckle. ‘Well, yes. Sometimes they carry messages. But as you saw, those messages are usually along the lines of
‘do as I say or else’
. Don’t you understand yet?’

Izzy’s temper bristled. ‘You don’t scare me.’

‘Don’t I?’ he shook his head, like he was too grand to argue with her and for a moment she hated him for it. ‘I should, Izzy.
Something
should.’

‘So what are they then? Angels?’

He didn’t answer for a few minutes. Izzy stared out of the window as quiet suburban houses flashed by them.

‘Soldiers,’ said Jinx at last. ‘Soldiers in a war that never ends. Assassins. Hunters. Killers.’

He turned up the road leading to the car park and Izzy let the feel of the green world wash over her. She’d spent most of her childhood playing up here. As had most of the local kids. They still did, running through the trees, climbing the rocks and cliffs, swarming over the playground, dangling off the monkey bars, laughing, shouting.

She had never felt so old in her life.

Nor so
other
. She carried a spark, or so they all said. And that voice … that distant, commanding voice in her head that
she couldn’t quite accept as real, but couldn’t deny either. All those …
things
… that hunted her.

Jinx included, of course. Damn it, she had to remember that. He was as bad as all the others. So why did she want to trust him?

And how was she going to explain all this to Mum? She had run away twice in less than twenty-four hours, and now she was in a stolen car.

Being followed by creatures from heaven and hell. But if Jinx was always there too, always leaping to her rescue, whenever one of them had her cornered or lay in wait … what did that make him?

‘Not to be trusted.’

Yes, the voice probably had that right.

Izzy studied him with a dubious gaze. Jinx manoeuvred the stolen Prius into a parking space and turned off the engine. Silence settled over them both.

‘Why my dad?’ Izzy asked at length.

‘I don’t know.’ Well, at least he didn’t pause. His features tightened. ‘But the mark on you came from him, not from any angel.’

From Dad? How on earth—

It was growing darker outside now. Izzy had no idea what time it was, but she’d lost a day in the hospital. A whole day … And it was meant to be the fairies who altered time.

She gave Jinx another suspicious look, wondering if he had a part in that, and rubbed her aching head. ‘What now?’

‘Now …’ Jinx sighed. She wished he sounded more determined, more self-assured. But he didn’t. A line formed between his eyebrows which crept down to shadow his silvery eyes. ‘Now we try to find someone to answer your questions.’

‘Why are you doing this? Any of this?’ Her voice shook, but she pressed on, unable to stop now she had asked. ‘What do you get out of it?’

He looked less human here, in the growing dark. Not that he was ever entirely human in appearance anyway. But here, now … His eyes glittered, his bone structure was sharper, his skin so pale it was almost tinged with blue. His many piercings caught the last of the light, and the lines of the tattoos darkened.

Jinx swallowed hard, as if he knew she was watching him without having to look at her. Of course he did. What self-respecting fae wouldn’t know when he … when
it
… was being watched.

‘I get nothing. I get nothing at all.’

‘Liar.’
The voice was growing stronger. Each time it spoke her heart stuttered in protest. She couldn’t ignore it anymore. It compelled her attention, no matter how much she wanted to pretend it wasn’t real.

A lie? No. It didn’t sound like a lie. His voice sounded dead, and helpless. Defeated.

‘Nothing?’

‘Yes. Nothing at all. I don’t want to be here, Izzy, but if I don’t keep you safe, if one of them takes you … then my life
won’t be worth living. Holly doesn’t care for failures.’

‘Who is Holly?’

‘You’ll see.’ She wished that sounded comforting, but it just sent chills right down her spine. ‘We should go. We’re sitting in stolen property, you know?’

‘One more question, Jinx. Can she help me? Can she get the spark out of me?’

Izzy winced at the blaze of protest in her mind – it was sharp and sudden, a spike of anger. Spiced with something else too. Fear.
‘Don’t ask that!’

Jinx looked up sharply, his eyes wide, his features stricken. She’d hit a nerve – with both him and the voice – that was for sure. He looked … she couldn’t quite define it. He looked like she’d asked him to kill for her.

No. Given what she’d seen him do, killing would be a small matter.

But death was a shadow in his eyes. Painful death. ‘Yes.’

‘Jinx? Would you lie to me?’

‘You know I would.’

‘Because of Holly?’

‘Because I’m
fae
. None of us can be trusted unless we have a deal. Unless we are bound.’

‘He is bound.’

Izzy shook it away, refusing to respond to the disembodied voice dogging her thoughts.

‘I saved your life.’

He flung the door open and threw himself out of the car.
For a moment Izzy sat there, shocked by the brightness of the cabin light, by his abrupt departure. Then she fumbled with her own handle and scrambled out, following him across the car park and onto the grass.

‘Jinx!’

He stopped at the sound of his name – a tall silhouette, little more than a shadow in the dark. Waiting, tense and angry. And defeated.

‘I saved your life, didn’t I?’ He’d been dying with that ironbladed knife embedded in his body. And she had pulled it out. Catching up with him, she grabbed both his arms and pulled him around to face her. He towered over her, much too big for her to fight, for her to control. But he didn’t move, not to attack or flee. He just stood there, lost. ‘You owe me, Jinx. You owe me for that.’

His shoulders stiffened, hard, hunched lines, and for a moment she thought he’d grab her, or hit her. But he didn’t. He just stood there, his head bent over hers, his eyes closing over in pain.

Izzy pushed at his chest. She barely made an impact. His skin felt warm beneath the material of his shirt. Somehow, she couldn’t pull her hand away. ‘Say something.’

Jinx’s upper lip drew back to reveal sharp white teeth, a silent snarl, and his eyes snapped open. ‘What would you have me say? I owe you. Do you have any idea what that means for one such as me?’

‘No.’ The mark on her neck warmed and a wave of pain
hit her, his pain, a tumult of emotions, all his. Her abdomen tightened sharply. Something like desire.

But it couldn’t be.

He was handsome, true. Beyond handsome. Beautiful in a way nothing human could be. And that was the rub.

Jinx wasn’t human.

Before she knew what she was really doing, Izzy pushed herself up on her toes and planted a kiss firmly on his mouth. She kissed him and Jinx let her. Shock perhaps. Or horror. He certainly didn’t return the gesture. He just stood there like a statue, hard and cold and she kissed his stony mouth until her heart petrified as well. Stone, like him.

A fire of embarrassment crept up her body, desire burned to ash by this humiliation. She released him and turned away so quickly that her stomach almost lurched back up her throat.

Jesus Christ, what had she done?

Jinx’s hand closed on her shoulder, his touch tentative, so delicate she thought for a moment she could detect a hint of trembling in it.

‘I owe you,’ he whispered and his breath played against her hair, his touch remained on her shoulder, reluctant to let go. ‘I do owe you. You saved my life. But Izzy … I owe others as well. I am tied in so many ways. Over so many years. I couldn’t hope to explain them all to you.’

‘To Silver?’ How she managed the words without bursting into tears, she didn’t know.

‘Yes. And to Holly. And to my people. I said the angels were
soldiers in a war. So are the demons and their spawn, like the shades you saw at the hospital. And so am I. Albeit, a poor one.’

‘You’re … you’re like angels?’ He didn’t seem very angelic at the moment.

‘My people
were
angels, long ago. When the war came to heaven and angels rose up against angels, some of them didn’t take a side. Some refused to fight, and when it was all over found themselves banished, tasked with an impossible burden, here on the horizontal plane, bound to the earth.’

‘And my father and I? How are we involved in this?’

‘Your father is …’ He paused, uncertain. ‘He’s safe for now.’

She pivoted to face him as her anger surged again. ‘He’s in a coma.’

‘Yes. And as such he isn’t a threat.’

‘And am I? A threat? Look at me.’ She meant it to mean she couldn’t possibly be; she was just a girl, a human.

To her further embarrassment, he really did look at her, a long, considering look that seemed to bore into her eyes and beyond. His gaze trailed down her body and left her longing to fidget or run from him, but she couldn’t. The alien cast in his face was even more pronounced here in the darkness on the hillside.

‘You are changed. I don’t know if that makes you a threat or not. But others think you are. Shades and angels follow you. Holly wants you too, as does the Old Man.’

‘Then what can I do? Help me, Jinx. Explain it to me.’

‘Your name … your father’s name …’ He trailed off, his brow knotting.

‘David Gregory?’

‘
Grigori
. It’s an old name, older than human time. It means “Watcher”, and sometimes “Shepherd”, one who keeps watch, who guards. It’s a powerful name.’

‘It’s just a name, Jinx.’

He took her hand, his grip warm and comforting. She shouldn’t find it so. She knew that, but her body was determined to make an idiot of her time and again when it came to Jinx.

Leading her with him, Jinx made his way across the grass to the path that sloped up into the trees. He spoke quietly as he did and she had to hurry to match his long strides if only to catch every word he said.

‘No such thing as
“just a name”
. Names define us. They make us what we are. It’s a vocation, a bloodline. You should have been dormant for years yet, until your father explained it all, until the time came for you to join him or take his place. But something happened and it triggered the power within you, changed you.’

‘The angel? The spark?’

‘Probably. The most likely explanation. The mark appeared on your skin, the mark which should protect you, the mark as old as … But what happens when a Watcher is also the bearer of a divine spark?’

How would she know? She wanted to whip out some quick and cutting remark – something clever to cut him down and
make her feel in control again – but her voice lodged in her throat. Dad had known? About all of this? And he’d never said a word. And why would he? She was just a girl, just a kid. Dad wouldn’t have told her anything that might put her in danger.