Chapter eighteen

J acks walked through his darkened house, not stopping

until he had reached his room and gone inside. He closed

the door silently so as to not wake anyone and flipped on

the light.

Mark was sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting. He

still wore his suit from earlier in the day, but it was unkempt

now, his jacket laid next to him on the bed, his shirt collar

unbuttoned, the tie drooping in a loose knot around his

neck. He had rolled his sleeves up and sat with his hands on

his knees.

“Late night?” he said in a subdued tone.

Jacks came in and looked at him evenly.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he said as normally as he could

manage. “I was going to head to bed.”

Mark nodded but didn’t move. The silence hung heavy

between them. After a moment Jacks went around the bed

to the closet and pulled off his jacket.

“I have, of course, seen the pictures from tonight,”

Mark said. “Chloe showed me, but it would be impossible to

miss them, really. They’re all over the Internet, and TV too.”

He laughed a little. “I’m sure the magazines will be having a

field day.”

Jacks slipped off his tie. The tie made a zip sound as it

cleared his collar. Jacks hung it over the rack and turned

around to face his stepfather.

“You don’t have to worry, Mark,” Jacks said. “It was

nothing. And besides, it’s over now.”

Mark nodded again, thoughtfully, and moved over on

the bed.

“Sit down, Jackson.” He patted the mattress next to

him. Jacks came over wordlessly and sat.

Mark regarded his stepson.

“That... girl... you brought to the party tonight.

She’s not part of your world, Jacks. She can never be a part

of your world, and you know that. You know if anything

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were to happen to her, anything at all, there would be nothing

you could do for her.”

“I know the laws,” Jacks said.

“And there’s a good reason for those laws,” Mark said.

“It’s not a”—he paused, choosing the word—“a prejudice,

Jackson. It’s a safeguard. The laws safeguard the institution

of Guardianship.”

Mark rose and walked slowly to the window. He

looked out at the twinkling city, the palm trees black in the

night. Jacks sat on the bed, watching him. Guardianship.

Duty. The words seemed empty, tied to parties and press

junkets and paparazzi, all of it some kind of hollow dream

being acted out in the Immortal City when he thought about

how he felt standing next to Maddy. But that was over now.

He tried to cast these thoughts from his mind. He was just

upset, that was all. It would pass.

“As a Guardian, Jacks, your responsibility is to your

Protections. If you allow yourself to be distracted worrying

about... others, then it puts your Protections in danger.”

He turned and faced Jacks again. “If a Protection were to

get hurt because a Guardian was distracted, do you have any

idea the damage that would cause? What would happen to

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the trust placed in us as Angels? What would happen to

people’s belief in the system itself?”

He walked toward Jackson, who sat motionless on the

bed. Jacks thought about how he would feel if Maddy was in

danger, what he would do. If he were totally honest with

himself, he knew what Mark was saying was right.

“Don’t you understand? Something like what you did

tonight could destroy everything. Everything the

Archangels have worked for, that your mother and I have

worked for, even that your father worked for”—he was

inches away from him now, standing over him—“fought for,

and died for. Do I need to remind you why he fought the

rebels? He gave his immortal life so that the good work of

the Archangels, the good work of Angels on earth could

continue.”

Jacks nodded wordlessly.

“There’s been another incident on the Walk of Angels,

Jacks,” Mark said, narrowing his eyes at his stepson.

“Who?”

“Ryan Templeton. I wanted you to hear it from me.

He was murdered. If this gets out into the media, they’ll

blow these Angel disappearances out of proportion. There’s

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also a silly rumor going around that these Angels are being

murdered in order of their stars. We’re sure it’s just coincidence.

But your star would be next.”

“What?” A jolt ran through Jackson’s body. He felt

something he wasn’t too familiar with: fear.

“If this gets out... with all eyes on you, it’s more important

than ever that we keep a solid front. For years, those

envious anti-Angel groups have been looking for just this

type of opportunity. With Ted Linden being elected, it’s only

going to get worse. You’re—I mean it’s—too important to

give into fear now. We are putting your star on that sidewalk

in defiance of whatever or whoever is out there trying

to intimidate Angels.”

“But only an Angel can kill an Angel.” Jacks’s

thoughts immediately cast back to what Sierra had said to

him at the party that night— Can’t wait for your star. Was

Sierra and Steven’s jealousy so great that it would lead them

to something like... this? The look in her eyes had been

dark and unblinking. But dark enough for murder?

“Jacks, this is more complicated than you could imagine,”

Mark said.

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The Archangel appraised his stepson. “I know all of

this might not seem fair, but it’s part of the sacrifice that is

asked of us,” he said.

Slowly, Mark sat next to Jacks again and let out a long

breath.

“This is your Commissioning week, Jackson. I want

you to think about your duty as a Guardian. Think about the

Protection’s life you will be holding in your hands. Think

about that. It will be your responsibility to make sure they

come home to their families each night. So their children

can have a parent. So their parents can have a child. So their

siblings can have a brother or a sister.”

Mark put a firm hand on Jacks’s shoulder. “This is not

about you anymore, Jackson. It’s about the Protections we

serve. It’s about the duty we are all called to as Angels and

as Guardians, and I will not have you mock that. I will not

have you mock your duty, Jackson.”

Jacks stood up swiftly, irritated.

“You don’t have to lecture me about duty, Mark.”

In an instant, Mark had risen off the bed in front of

Jacks, throwing him back across the room.

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“Really? Then can you please tell me why I am seeing

pictures of my stepson messing around with trash like that

girl? Some human girl?”

Jacks steadied himself against the wall.

Mark’s tone was ferocious, echoing around the room.

“What were you thinking, Jacks? What were you

thinking?” Mark spit out. “Do you think all this was coincidence,

Jacks, all your media coverage, the success, the fame?

Do you think we’ll just stand by and let you throw it away,

that we’ll have groomed you for nothing, that we don’t need

you to stand as a shining example against our enemies, who

are growing every day? Do you? ” The walls almost shook

with his furious tone.

Jackson and his stepfather stood mere inches from

each other, eye to eye. Neither blinked. After a few moments

the heave of Mark’s chest quieted. He began composing

himself. Jacks turned away, taking in the weight of Mark’s

words. He knew it was true.

“Mark, I’m sorry, I wasn’t—” Jacks said tiredly. “It’s

over.”

Mark looked at his stepson. The rage was gone from

his eyes now; only the disappointment remained.

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“I’ll talk to Darcy in the morning; we’ll take care of it.

Try to get it killed by the Commissioning ceremony tomorrow

night.”

Jacks nodded.

“You embarrassed yourself tonight, Jackson,” he said.

“Do yourself a favor and never, never do that again. Have I

made myself clear?”

“Yes,” Jacks said.

Mark walked to the doorway.

“Very soon you’re going to be a Guardian Angel. At

least try to act like one.” Mark paused for a moment on the

threshold. Jacks looked at his stepfather, lit from the track

lighting above him. There was something off about his

blazer, which was normally so crisp and clean, now rumpled

and thrown over his arm. It was stained. A red splotch. Like

blood.

Before Jacks could even register what he was seeing,

Mark closed the door with a slam. Waiting until he heard

his stepfather’s footsteps fade down the hall, Jacks leapt up

from his bed and went to where Mark had stopped. He

leaned down and looked at where the Archangel had been

standing, but there was no sign of anything. He checked the

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comforter on the bed, where Mark had been sitting. Nothing

there, either. Jacks shook his head. It’d been a late

night—he must have been imagining things.

But he hadn’t imagined the look in Maddy’s eyes

when she told him she wanted nothing to do with him.

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