A moment later a thin woman with a pursed mouth entered. Everything about her looked faded – nondescript hair, pale skin. She gulped when she saw him.

“Sir, it’s – it’s an honour,” she gasped. “When I came here, I never dreamed I’d see you. Why, I thought you were in Denver Eden!”

Raziel rose, crossing to a sideboard. “Yes, quite. And you are…?”

“Joanna Fields.”

He’d been about to pour himself a glass of water; he froze mid-motion. “Willow Fields’s aunt,” he said.

There was a mirror over the sideboard; he saw her expression darken. “That’s not my fault. You know that, sir. Miranda and I have nothing to do with that girl.”

He was glad he wasn’t facing her; he wasn’t able to keep the stunned surprise from his face. He finished pouring his water and turned, leaning against a low table.

“Miranda?” he enquired blandly.

“Yes, my sister.” Joanna started to sit down and hesitated. “I’m sorry – may I?”

“By all means.” He remained where he was, playing with the glass. “Suppose you remind me of the circumstances surrounding your and Miranda’s – er – continued existence,” he said. “I find myself fuzzy on the details.”

“Our – oh, of course.” Joanna sat up straight. “Well, you see, it all started when Willow ran away with that secret boyfriend of hers. He must have been a terrorist: a terrible influence. She was always strange, that girl, but never malicious, do you know what I mean?”

Joanna went on breathlessly, not waiting for his response. “Then when Willow tried to blow up the cathedral in Denver – oh, it was just horrible. Reporters knocking at my door, demanding comments day and night. I told them I deplored what Willow had done and that she was no niece of mine any more, but it never satisfied them. So of course when the angel came to see us, at first I thought she was one of them.”

Raziel swirled the water around in his glass. “The angel,” he repeated in a neutral tone.

Joanna nodded eagerly. “Yes. Well, you know, sir – she said that you’d sent her. Oh, she was the most glorious creature! She explained that we were in danger, and that she’d take us away where no one could harm us. That’s why my house was burned down, so everyone would think we’d died. Then she took us to a cabin hidden up in the Adirondacks. She thought of everything.”

Rage was building within Raziel; it was difficult to keep from squeezing his crystal tumbler into pieces. “How enterprising of her,” he said. “May I ask the name of this paragon?”

Joanna blinked at “paragon”. “She said her name was Paschar.”

For a second, shock jolted Raziel; an even greater fury followed. Oh, someone thought they were very clever, all right – and he had a feeling he knew who.

Raziel shifted to his angel self. Joanna had been about to say something else; her mouth dropped open as he approached, wings outspread, the light from his ethereal form bleaching out her features.

“I think perhaps I need more information,” he said, and buried his hands in her aura.

Though he found her energy distasteful, he fed deeply. It was, he’d found, the one thing that enhanced what little psychic ability he had left. As Joanna’s life force flowed into him, Raziel closed his eyes, scanning through her thoughts like shuffling cards.

An angel with pale blonde hair and dark eyes appeared – a crystal smile. Charmeine, thought Raziel grimly, unsurprised. They’d always had a strong psychic connection; she’d obviously realized he was Willow’s father and squirelled Miranda away somewhere, to use when the revelation would be the most damaging to him. Just like her to have had all her bases covered.

Raziel shimmered back to his human form with a smirk. Ironic that Charmeine’s machinations had now delivered Miranda right into his hands. Foiled again, my dear, he thought, seeing again the moment of Charmeine’s death.

“So beautiful,” murmured Joanna, gazing into space. “Almost as beautiful as when Paschar touched me.”

“Thank you.” Raziel leaned against the desk. “Well, I think I’m up-to-date now,” he said, falsely cheery. “Why did you come to see me?”

Joanna stared at him; her aura was now a murky grey. Raziel wondered if he’d overdone it, and then she roused herself and sat up weakly. “Well, I – I know we were supposed to wait until the angels came for us, but…something’s happened. You see, Miranda’s been talking.”

Raziel’s eyes narrowed. “Go on.”

Joanna swallowed. “Usually she just sits in her chair and dreams. But last week she started speaking – as if she were talking to someone I couldn’t see.”

“Last week?” Raziel said sharply.

Joanna flushed. “It took time to find someone who could stay with Miranda – and of course I couldn’t trust anyone else to come here with this message. I didn’t like the sound of what she was saying at all. It – it sounded traitorous.”

Raziel struggled to keep his voice controlled. “What was she saying?”

“I wrote it down afterwards, so I wouldn’t forget.” Joanna fumbled in her handbag; she handed him a folded piece of paper anxiously.

Raziel’s eyebrows rose as he scanned the neatly written passage:

Miranda seemed to be talking to someone. At the very end, she said his name: Alex. They seemed to be planning something. Miranda said it might be better if people weren’t confused by the angels any more. She sounded like she was somewhere else, because she talked about the “Miranda by the lake” and said that wasn’t her. She mentioned a gate and said that Raziel was the only one who knew it was there, but that she could show it to this Alex to help him get home. And that when Willow tried to link to the “energy field”, she’d need to do it in Pawntucket.

Shock and understanding roared through Raziel. Some part of Miranda was still cognizant, and existed in the angels’ world. And Kylar had been there with her. How? How had he gotten across to their world?

Enraged, Raziel resisted the urge to crumple the paper into a tiny ball. He’d destroyed all the known gates – yet if this information was accurate, he’d missed something vital. His plan to gain control of Willow flashed back to him. Yes, and none too soon, if she knew how to use the angelic energy field. If he didn’t act quickly, she’d destroy them all.

Fortunately, his next move would not be one she’d expect.

Raziel folded the paper and ran his fingernail sharply along its crease. “Where did you say Miranda is being kept again?”

Joanna had been studying the photo of Willow on his desk, her mouth tight with disapproval. She looked up. “We’re in a cabin maybe a hundred miles from here, right up in the mountains – on one of those remote lakes that doesn’t even have a name. And I don’t mean to complain, but it’s very difficult to get to, I’m afraid. The roads are—”

“Perhaps you would wait in the outer office,” interrupted Raziel, reaching for his cell.

“Oh! Yes, of course.” She got up hastily.

Raziel was already hitting a button on speed dial. A voice answered.

“It’s time,” Raziel said as Joanna disappeared through the door. He reached for the photo of Willow and tapped it against the desk.

Bascal sounded instantly awake. “For the attack?”

“Precisely.” Raziel glanced at the clock: 3.17. “It’s to begin at six a.m. exactly. I want that town decimated. There’s a gate there; find it and destroy it – spare no one except the girl. She’s to be captured alive, unless she gets to the gate and tries to open it. Kill her immediately in that case.”

“Oh?” Bascal’s voice was wary.

“She can control our world’s energy field,” snapped Raziel. “It’s what Paschar’s vision meant.”

Bascal’s tone turned deadly. “Don’t worry. She won’t get away with it.”

Raziel was still holding the photo of Willow as he hung up. He gave a hard smile as he studied the girl’s radiant face. Oh, I’ve got a surprise for you, my daughter, he thought. I’ve finally found the way to control you.