Midnight's Angels - 03 by Tony Richards Read Free Book Online Page A

reconnect when I pressed ‘dial back.’ Which left me feeling troubled. What it signified, I wasn’t sure.
    But the fact was, he had given me a second chance. And I’d be an idiot not to take it.
    I turned the engine, which had stalled. Swung the wheel around, and eased down very gently on the gas, coaxing my beloved old car out of the rut which it had dug for itself. And as soon as it was free again, I put my foot down harder, regaining the blacktop and then speeding away.
    The commercial district shrank behind me, but I kept on glancing in my rearview mirror all the same.
    What was going on back there -- who was dead and who was still alive -- I had no way of knowing.
    * * *
    I finally pulled up on Crealley Street. It’s a major thoroughfare, and busy during the day, but it was totally abandoned at this hour. The only vehicles around me were parked ones. I found a space and drew up to the curb.
    And, as soon as they let go of the steering wheel, my hands started shaking so badly it was like they had a life of their own. I hunched forward, feeling like I was going to hurl, but didn’t. My brow got very slick and damp.
    I still had not the first clue what was happening. Everything tonight had pounced on me, with no real explanation. Normally, when something bad came to this town, there was some kind of warning or preamble. But not on this occasion.
    Willets doubtlessly had some answers, if the man was still among the living. And then it occurred to me. Why’d they gone after him in the first place? Why the doc especially? It was his habit to keep himself distant from the business of this town.
    He’d saved my life. I knew that. Hoped he hadn’t done it at the expense of his own. But whatever the case, he was out of play for the time being.
    So I needed to bring in the other major adepts. And I knew exactly which one to approach. I picked up my cell phone again, and punched in a number. It was practically two minutes before anyone replied.
    * * *
    When I reached Judge Levin’s residence, the front door was open and there was a compact figure standing at the edge of the dimly lit hallway. The judge was still in his pajamas, and had yanked on a thick plaid housecoat a size too large for him. He was blinking, obviously unhappy to be woken at this hour. He’s a slight man, physically. There was a dusting of silver in his luxuriant black hair. And he normally wears rimless spectacles, but they were not on now.
    He looked rather older than usual, creases on his cheekbones, deep bags underneath his eyes. But most of us look the same when our sleep is disturbed. Like we come back into this world unprepared and vulnerable.
    I headed up the path, still trying to sort out what had happened in my head. And that was when a pair of memories combined, striking me forcibly. I had seen only two ‘angels’ back in the commercial district. But if the meteors had brought them here, then there’d been three of those. In which case …?
    There was no way to be certain. I stepped onto the porch and nodded.
    “Judge.”
    I wiped my shoes before I went inside. He just peered at me worriedly.
    “I can’t believe we’re under attack for the third time in a single year,” he murmured. And he looked extremely anxious, but was keeping his voice low. “I’ve never known anything like it. What is happening to our town?”
    And that was a good question. The Landing seemed to be going to hell in a handcart these days. He ushered me into the living room, shutting the door carefully behind us. He was trying to avoid disturbing his family. So the phone had obviously not woken them up, or not for very long.
    The house was wooden, and it groaned faintly around us. Everything in here was plush. Velvet, silk, and soft, deep cushions. The cabinets and coffee tables were rosewood. He’d redecorated recently, perhaps by magic. The predominant colors by this time were red and gold. And there were framed prints of the Pilgrim Fathers on the tastefully