Free Blood and Feathers by Lou Morgan Page A

too, are you?”
    “Do I look like a soldier to you? I’m a lover, not a fighter, baby.” He clicked his tongue and pointed a finger at her, making her smile. Suddenly, he was serious again. “But Mallory, he’s right, he’s a soldier. He might have a healer’s touch, but a soldier is what he is , what he does. He sees what a soldier sees: war. And down here, it’s in your face, all the time. Every corner of the world is at war – with itself, with the Fallen, with the Descendeds, with the darkness, with hope, with the future, with the past... we can’t get away from it. It dogs our footsteps. It seeps into our dreams. And for Mallory – well, you can imagine what that’s like.”
    “That’s why he drinks, isn’t it?”
    “Oh, don’t let him fool you. The drinking is the least of his issues.” He stopped, laughed when she looked alarmed. “That sounds worse than it is. By Earthbound standards, he’s practically an angel – you see what I did there? – and believe me, if I were you right now, Mallory is the one I’d want looking out for me. Don’t get me wrong, I love him, but down here? It’s not good for him.”
    Mallory didn’t exactly look unhappy. He had perched himself on the edge of the worktop and was flipping through a magazine. Alice peered at the cover. It was dated August 1994. In any other home, this might be surprising. Not here.
    “Why do you live here, anyway?”
    “Why?” He looked up over the top of the magazine. “Because I like it.” He followed her gaze around the room, taking in the boxes, the bottles, the junk piled high. “Well, maybe I don’t like that so much, but I like this place. It reminds me of somewhere. And besides, where else am I supposed to go?”
    “That brings me to my next question,” Alice said, stretching. “What about me?”
    “What about you?”
    “Well, I can’t go home, can I?”
    “Nope. And if you remember, I told you that at the time.”
    “So, I’ll say it again: what about me?”
    “And, again: what about you?”
    “If I can’t go home, and I can’t stay here... where the hell am I supposed to go?”
    “What’s wrong with here?” He dropped the magazine, and a small plume of dust drifted into the air.
    Alice raised her eyebrows. “You mean, apart from that? Mallory, I can’t sit around here all day, forever. I’ve got no home, no... family” – she swallowed hard as her voice cracked – “and you say I can’t go back to work. So tell me, please, what I can do?”
    “You, Alice, can do plenty. But until Gwyn gets back, the topic’s closed. Here.” He finally picked up the bottle, and handed her a magazine. It had a picture of a woman with red lipstick, slicked-back hair and shoulderpads on the cover. Alice fervently hoped Gwyn wasn’t gone too long.
     
     
    I T WAS DARK by the time he came back, and Alice now knew more about blusher than she had ever thought possible. It was taking her mind off other things, the things still in that mental ‘save for later’ box; and there were plenty of those. Every time she closed her eyes, something new and unpleasant flashed across them: statues that talked, graves that opened and then closed without warning. Fire. Red eyes that stared right into her. The house, burning. Fire, everywhere fire. Her father – sitting in his chair. Her father – his neck breaking. Her father, who had lied to her, and her father... who had kept his secrets and then left her all alone.
    “One thing you are not is alone,” said a voice from beside her, and she opened her eyes to see Gwyn. He was reaching out his hands for hers, but almost instinctively, she edged away from him. He dropped his hand. “You fear me. You shouldn’t.”
    “Yes, I should.”
    “Mallory’s been talking. He never can keep his mouth shut.” He sighed. “Alice, do you know what will happen to him if he makes another mistake?”
    “I...”
    “He will Fall. Gabriel will find him, and he will cut his wings and toss him