‘The doctor from Alcatraz has told Obadiah and the council that she is the Great One, the chosen one who will be our savior. The rest of the camp doesn’t believe, but we of the New Dawn know that she must be the Great One meant to save us from this holy tragedy.’

‘She’s just a little girl.’ I want to say the word normal, but I can’t.

‘Please don’t stop this,’ says the woman, her eyes pleading. ‘Please don’t interfere. If you reject me, someone else will have the privilege, and I will be disgraced.’ Her eyes actually fill with tears. ‘Please allow my life to mean something in this world. This is the greatest contribution and the greatest honor I could have in this life.’

I stand there with my jaw slack, trying to think of something to say.

My baby sister, though, doesn’t have any problems turning her down. She shyly shakes her head no and crosses her legs, sitting in her monk pose. We’d always called her our little Buddha since she decided to be a vegetarian when she was only three.

Tears stream down the woman’s cheeks. ‘I understand. You have different plans for me.’ She looks like she’s been personally rejected. She gets up slowly and ties her sheet firmly back into place, giving me a glare.

The woman bows and backs out, refusing to turn her back to Paige.

My mom sighs beside me in exasperation. ‘This doesn’t change anything, you know,’ she says to me. ‘I’ll just have to go back and find the next one in line.’

‘Mom, no.’

‘They want to do this. It’s an honor for them. Besides,’ she turns to follow the woman, ‘they come with their own sheet for easy cleanup.’

23

‘You know where this church with the stained glass is?’ asks Raffe.

‘What?’ I’m still thinking about the cult and the messiah belief swirling around Paige.

‘The church?’ Raffe looks like he wants to wave his hand in front of my eyes. ‘With the stained glass?’

‘There are a couple of churches downtown. We can just walk to there from here. What’s this about?’

‘Someone is apparently trying to meet with me.’

‘Yeah, I got that. Who and why?’

‘I’d like to find out.’ I can tell by Raffe’s shuttered expression and the tone of his voice that he probably already has a good guess.

‘Is this an angel who knows where the Resistance camp is?’

‘Probably not. Someone who can get the word out through humans but not likely to know about the camp. He was probably sent to the church by someone like her.’ He nods in the direction that the cult woman went.

I’m probably better off bringing Raffe to this mysterious person than risking him finding the camp while looking for Raffe.

I glance at Paige, who is singing Mom’s apology song to her locusts perched on the branches above her. I walk over to her. ‘If I leave for a little while, are you going to be okay on your own?’

She nods. From the edge of the shadows, Mom walks back to us. I’m not entirely sure whether Paige is better off with or without her, but since Mom is walking back alone, we must have at least a little time before her next shenanigans.

I walk back to Raffe. ‘I’m all yours. Let’s go find that church.’

I’m not as familiar with downtown Palo Alto as I am with downtown Mountain View, so it takes us longer than I expect to find the churches. The first one only has a tiny strip of stained glass, and I’m guessing that’s not the one they meant. When someone says ‘the church with the stained glass,’ I assume they mean a whole lot of stained glass.

Downtown Palo Alto used to be the hip spot to be. It was known for its waiting list restaurants and cutting-edge startup companies. My dad used to love coming here.

‘Who’s looking for you?’ I ask.

‘I’m not sure.’

‘But you have guesses.’

‘Maybe.’

We walk down a street lined with craftsman houses. The cute suburban neighborhood seems to have mostly survived, except for a few blocks where houses have been randomly destroyed.

‘So is it a military secret? Why aren’t you sharing your guesses?’

We turn a corner, and there’s the church with the stained glass.

‘Raphael,’ says a male voice from above.

A ghostly shape floats down toward us from the church’s roof. A painfully white angel lands in front of us.

It’s Josiah the albino. His skin is as unnaturally white as I remember, and his eyes are freakishly blood red, even in this dim moonlight. He looks like pure evil. Backstabbing creepy bastard.

My lip twitches in a snarl, and I pull off the teddy bear, gripping the handle of my sword.

Raffe stays my hand.

‘I’m glad to see you’re well, Archangel,’ says Josiah. ‘That was quite the scene last night.’

Raffe arches his brow arrogantly.

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ says Josiah. ‘But it’s not true. Look, give me two minutes to explain.’ It’s amazing how a guy who so blatantly betrayed Raffe could sound so sincere and friendly.

Raffe is scanning the area. Seeing him do this reminds me that this could be a trap and that I shouldn’t get distracted by my anger toward this scum.

I glance around and see nothing but quiet shadows in what was once a sweet little neighborhood.

‘I’m listening,’ says Raffe. ‘Talk fast.’

‘I talked Laylah into agreeing to change back your wings,’ says Josiah. ‘For real this time. She swore to me.’

‘Why should I believe her?’

‘Or you,’ I say. It was Josiah and Laylah who tricked Raffe into having demon wings in the first place. There’s no reason to believe they’ll do anything but trick him again.

Josiah turns his bloody eyes to me. ‘Uriel blames Laylah for the locusts turning on us last night. He says no one else but the doctor who created them could have that kind of control over them. He has her locked in her laboratory. He would have killed her, except she’s in the middle of creating some plagues for him. That, and she’s the only one who can maintain his growing army of monsters.’

‘Plagues?’ I ask. ‘Why is everybody trying to make plagues?’

‘What’s an apocalypse without pestilence?’ asks Josiah.

‘Great,’ I say. ‘So we’re supposed to trust a known liar who’s cooking up apocalyptic plagues? And why would we even care what happens to Laylah? Serves her right for transplanting demon wings onto Raffe and playing Dr. Frankenstein with human beings. We’re not just biomass to be shaped into whatever dolls she wants to play with.’