“Well, now we know why he’s mad at me, don’t we?” he says cheerfully.

“How did you do that?” I gasp. “That was so cool.”

“David and Goliath, my dear,” he answers. “All it takes is one smooth little pebble to drop a giant. Although, to be honest, I was aiming for his heart. I’ve never been the best shot.” Tucker stumbles off a few steps into the weeds to throw up. Mr. Phibbs wrinkles up his nose as we listen to him losing his dinner.

“Humans and glory don’t mix well, I’m afraid,” Mr. Phibbs says.

“You okay?” I call to Tucker.

He straightens up and comes back out to the road, wiping his mouth on his tux sleeve.

“Will he be back?” he asks.

I look to Mr. Phibbs, who sighs.

“I’d assume so.”

“But you wounded him,” I say, my voice straining. “Doesn’t it take time for them to heal?

I mean, I tore his ear off months ago, and that wasn’t fixed yet.” Mr. Phibbs nods grimly. “I should have struck at the heart.”

“Would that have killed him?”

“Lord, no. You can’t kill an angel,” he says.

“Look.” Tucker points off in the distance, where we see a police car, followed by an ambulance and a fire truck, tearing along the highway toward us.

“Took them long enough,” I say.

Mr. Phibbs kneels to examine Wendy, his fingers touching lightly at her neck. Her eyes flutter, but she doesn’t wake. She moans. It’s kind of a beautiful sound.

“Will she be okay?” Tucker asks, his face still a bit green.

“Oh yes, right as rain, I think,” Mr. Phibbs answers.

Then we’re all quiet as the sirens get closer, the pitch changing as it draws near, until we’re bathed in the red and blue flashing lights of the clueless people coming to help.

Chapter 14

Sing a Song of Sorrow

It’s almost morning when I walk through the front door, still wearing my stained-and-rumpled prom dress, missing my shoes. Jeffrey and Mom are waiting in the living room. She makes this strangled cry when she sees me, gets up so fast that it alarms Billy, and practically falls into my arms to hug me.

“I’m so sorry,” she says against my hair. “Are you all right?” Dumb question.

“Mom . . . ,” I say awkwardly, holding her. “I’m okay.”

Behind me, Mr. Phibbs clears his throat. He stayed with me the whole time at the emergency room, even after Billy showed up, through all the unnecessary exams they put me through, waiting in the lobby with the Averys for news about Wendy, who was okay, just as Mr.

Phibbs said she would be, and the barrage of questions from the police I didn’t know how to answer.

Mom pulls away from me, looks at Mr. Phibbs with shining eyes. “Thank you, Corbett.”

“Welcome,” he says gruffly.

“What did you tell them happened?” Jeffrey asks, and by “them” he means everybody fully human.

“The official story is that she hit a moose.” Corbett chuckles.

A moose. Maybe someday I’ll find that funny. But not today.

“I shouldn’t have tried to hit him with the car,” I say, rubbing my temples. “That was stupid.”

“Are you kidding? That was gutsy as all get-out,” Billy says.

“You were amazing tonight, Clara,” Mom adds. “You faced him. You kept everyone safe.

You summoned glory all by yourself, under an incredible amount of pressure, and you held it until help came. I have never been so proud of you.”

There’s wet stuff on my cheeks. I wipe at it.

“Oh, honey,” Mom says, taking me by the arm, drawing me into the living room, where I think she means to plop me down in front of the fire and try to make everything better with words.

I pull my arm away. “How about you tell me now, Mom?”

“What?”

“Samjeeza said there’s something you’re not telling me, about my purpose or my visions or something strange about me. Is there?”

She flinches like I slapped her. She and Billy exchange a look that’s a silent argument.

So there is something.

“Samjeeza had some sort of plan,” I say. “He wanted to make you stay with him this time.”

Mom frowns and goes quiet. Then Billy says, out of the blue, “Mags, don’t even think about it.”

“I wasn’t,” Mom says.

“You were. I know you. That man, if you want to call him a man, can’t be redeemed.

He’s made his bed. You can’t talk him out of being a Black Wing.”

“He thought if he took you to hell with him, it would make things right with the other Black Wings. What does that mean?” I ask.

“He was supposed to kill me, once,” Mom says like it’s no big deal. “He didn’t do it. For that he was punished.”

“He hasn’t been quite right since then,” fills in Billy. “He’s fractured. Which is why there’s no way on God’s green earth I’m going to let you anywhere near that crazy-ass angel.

He’ll kill you.”

Mom sighs. “Bill, I’m already dying. I don’t have anything to lose.” Mr. Phibbs coughs. “I’m with Billy. I think it best that you stay away from him. You have everything to lose. He could grab on to your soul and not let you go, keep you down there with him for who knows how long.”

“He couldn’t keep me,” Mom argues. Her gaze flickers over to Billy. “Not forever. No matter what he thinks.”

Mr. Phibbs shrugs. “It’s not the kind of place I’d want to spend even ten minutes.”

“All right.” Mom’s mouth twists in frustration. “I won’t get near him. I’ll stay right here and fade away.”

It’s the first time she’s ever come off as anything but graciously accepting of what’s happening to her. The first time I’ve ever seen her act truly beaten.

“You should go to bed,” she says to me. “We can talk more about this later, but you’re exhausted. You need to sleep.”

“I guess I’d better go pack,” I say as I turn toward the stairs.

Mom gives me a blank look.

“Don’t we have to get out of here? I mean, Samjeeza said he’d been watching me. He must know where we live. We’re not safe here. He’ll come back. You know he will.” She nods. “I’d say that’s a given. It’s only a matter of when. But he knows you now, Clara. If he truly wants to find you, he will. It won’t do us any good to run away.” Somehow I don’t find that comforting.