Chapter Twenty-Eight: Chant Down Babylon

“What, did you think you were doing a good job of hiding what you are?” he asked with a mocking tilt to his lips. “Please. It’s fairly obvious if you know what to look for, and you weren’t exactly an expert at keeping it hidden. Breaking into buildings and shutting off alarm systems by just standing there? It’s not exactly normal, is it?”

I was barely listening to him; there was a pounding in my ears. I felt sick with dread and fear. In that moment, I couldn’t have cared less that Carl knew I was a half-demon – what mattered was that he was one himself. There was no doubt in my mind that he was the half-demon: the one who had murdered Ginger and Daniel and Nora and a poor nameless bastard; the one we’d been looking for. No wonder shooting the police officer had hardly fazed him; he’d done far worse things. I’d told Spark it was Carl, but a part of me had never seriously believed it. I just couldn’t believe that someone I knew – someone I had been intimate with – was capable of murder. It was a deception of epic proportions.

“Why did you never tell me what you were?” I demanded in a hoarse whisper; it was the only thing I could think of to ask. My mind had gone blank.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “It didn’t suit my purposes. But everything is so close to fruition that I can’t see the point of keeping hidden any longer. I’ve wanted you to know what I am for a long time now. I’ve said it before, Hallow: we’re meant to be together. We’re two very powerful half-demons – just thing of everything we can achieve together!”

My lips were strangely dry; I licked them before asking, “What about Spark?”

Carl waved a dismissive hand, and said, “I had high hopes for him, I’ll admit – we all did. Pyrokinesis is a special gift. But he’s disappointed us. He’s weak. Not like you.” He took a deliberate step towards me, and I found myself backing up against the wall of the warehouse, desperate to stay as far away from him as possible. It didn’t even occur to me to use my powers on him – that’s how close to hysteria I was. “You’re amazing, Hallow. The things you can do, the power you have… It’s indescribable. I’m in awe of you.”

I took a deep, shuddering breath, refusing to give in to the terror and appellation coiled in my stomach. “You disgust me,” I said, tightly controlled anger in my voice. “You’re a murderer. You’re evil. Why did you kill all those people?” I demanded. “How could you? You killed Melinda’s brother – he was thirteen, an innocent! You killed Ginger, who had done nothing to you, and you killed my half-sister – she might have been crazy, but she was harmless. Not to mention you tried to kill Spark and me by making his car crash!” I remembered seeing Carl at the hospital after someone had cut the break line to Spark’s car. His T-shirt had been stained with oil, but I hadn’t made the connection. The fact he was responsible for the car accident, that he had targeted me personally, almost hurt more than the rest of it.“How could you do such a thing?”

“Oh, don’t be such a drama queen. I was just trying to warn you to keep out of my way. I knew you’d use your powers to stop the crash from being more serious – I would never deliberately hurt you, Hallow,” he said, and he sounded like he meant it.

“As for the murders… I did it because my father asked it of me.” His voice was perfectly calm, as though he was telling me the weather tomorrow would be cold but sunny. He shrugged nonchalantly. “You must know how strong the desire to please your father is – it’s the same for me. He wanted me to prove my devotion to him, and I did. He chose the victims: people who had the potential to do a lot of good in the world. Nora was my own idea, though. You were on your way to see her, and you would have found out she had a copy of the Liber Umbrarum. Of course,” he continued thoughtfully, beginning to pace, “her copy has disappeared now anyway” (thank God he didn’t seem aware someone had posted it to me) “but my father was pleased by the death nonetheless.” He noticed my appalled expression. “Oh, come on, Hallow, don’t act the innocent here. Anyone can be a murderer given the right incentive, including you.”

I remained silent. I wanted to argue with him, but a small part of me believed he was telling the truth. If I didn’t have such strong ties to the human world – my parents, Laura, even Alex – would I be more like Carl? He hadn’t had an easy upbringing, it was true. His mother had died of cancer when he was little, and his father (whom I had always assumed was his real father, but was presumably his step-father) was an alcoholic. If my childhood had been like Carl’s, I strongly suspected I would have been even more susceptible to my demon father’s persuasions, desperate to have a parent I could relate to. But did that excuse what Carl had done? No. You always have a choice, and Carl had chosen the darkside.

“Wait a minute,” I said suddenly as something occurred to me. “What about the man whose body was found behind the common? It can’t have been you – you were with me the night it happened!” It was what had made me believe Carl really wasn’t the half-demon – I was his alibi.

“What?” He frowned at me. “That wasn’t me, that was your Daddy Dearest. It was someone he’d possessed and then discarded like a used tissue. Did you really think it was me?” He seemed pleased by the idea, but I was lost in my own thoughts again. I had always assumed the mysterious half-demon was responsible for that murder. It hadn’t occurred to me it might be my own father; but he had certainly been known to kill before.

Carl stopped retracing the same five metres of concrete to cock his head to one side and eyed me thoughtfully, unaware of my mental musings. “Aren’t you going to ask me what my power is? Don’t you want to know?”

“What’s your power?” I asked mechanically.

He frowned at me. I clearly wasn’t playing along like he wanted me to. “Mind control,” he replied after a moment’s silence. “I can force people to do what I want.” As my mouth dropped open, he added, “Take you for instance. You were easy prey. Your father could tell you had all this angry energy inside you – you wanted to be bad – but you needed a helping hand. That’s where I came in.”

“You…made me do those things?” I demanded, sickened.

“Well, not entirely,” he amended. He resumed pacing, glancing at me almost casually as he explained, “You see, my power’s not quite as powerful as I’d like it to be. I can influence people to do things…but only if a part of them is inclined to do it anyway. It only needs to be a tiny part, something they would never normally act on, but they still have to want it. For example, in the case of a pretty little half-demon who’d just found out she’s adopted. She was looking for a way to rebel…I simply provided her with an outlet.”

I didn’t know whether to be relieved or appalled. I thought of everything I had done during my first rebellion four years ago and during my more recent one. All the drinking, drug-taking, sex, and breaking and entering I had done… How much of it had been me acting independently, desperate to numb the pain inside me, and how much had been Carl’s influence? It would have been easy to try and excuse my behaviour entirely, placing all the blame at Carl’s door, but I suspected things weren’t quite that simple. He said a part of me had to want it, and I believed him. Maybe he had encouraged my behaviour, but I had gone along with it with almost no resistance. I had been spiralling out of control for months now, and I had no one to blame for it but myself.

And, just like that, I realised what a fool I had been. It was as though I’d been walking through life short-sighted and just put on glasses for the first time: everything came into focus, and I could clearly see every recent decision I had made. Ever since Spark had told me I was a half-demon I had been getting deeper and deeper into the world I’d worked so hard to leave when I was younger. I’d slept with two men within the space of a week, I’d broken into a jewellery store and a bank, I’d marked myself with a fucking demon brand.

And for what? For some stupid idea of what my life should be like? I was a half-demon, so why bother trying to fight the evil inside me? Bullshit. It was just as I’d realised earlier – you always have a choice, and it might not be easy or simple, but that shouldn’t stop you from doing the right thing. And I was finally, belatedly, making the right decision. Psychic Paige had spelled it out to me weeks ago, but I hadn’t understood then: “There is choice possible to us at any moment, as long as we live. But there is no sacrifice. There is a choice, and the rest falls away.” I didn’t want to be evil. I didn’t want to be a murderer. I wanted to live a long, happy life surrounded by the people I loved. I was going to do everything in my power to stop Carl and to fight my demon father come Halloween – to “chant down Babylon and destroy the plans of wicked men.” Because it was the right bloody thing to do.

And if I didn’t succeed? Well, then I would take a page out of Spark’s book: Death before dishonour.

“I think,” I said slowly, “I’ve just had an epiphany.”

“Yeah?” Carl looked mildly interested. “What about?”

“It doesn’t matter.” I stared at him helplessly. “What do we do now?”

He shrugged. “Whatever you want. The world is our oyster, and all that. We’ve just come into rather a lot of money” – he held up the plastic bag full of cash for emphasis – “and we can do whatever we want with it. At least until tomorrow night,” he amended thoughtfully. “Then we’ll probably have to follow our fathers’ orders for a while – but even half-demons must get leave, right? So what do you feel like doing? Do you want to go to a club or something?”

I shook my head slowly. “That wasn’t what I meant, Carl. I’m not like you. I don’t want to be evil. You’ve killed people – you have to be punished.”

“And you’re the one who’s going to do that?” he sneered. He clearly didn’t believe that I would really try to stop him, and to a certain extent, he was right. I certainly didn’t relish having to do it. We had a lot of shared history, and a part of my heart would always belong to him…but I couldn’t let him literally get away with murder. It went against everything I had been brought up to believe by my parents – who might not share my blood, but were my family in every way that mattered.

“Yes, I am,” I replied, and stepped away from the wall. I wasn’t entirely certain what I was going to do – knock him out using my telekinesis, perhaps – but I never got the chance to find out. Carl gave me an annoyed look and said in a voice devoid of the amusement usually present in it, “Sit down.”

And I did. I literally just fell backwards until my arse hit the concrete. It hurt, and I winced at the pain even as I glared up at Carl. It was the first time I had ever been aware of him using his powers on me, and it sucked. I tried to rise, but it was as though I was glued to the floor. “Let me get up!” I demanded.

“No.” He looked infuriatingly smug. “Obviously you don’t want to stop me as much as you say. So here’s how this is going to work. You’re not going to hurt me. You’re going to sit your pretty arse on that floor and stay there until I say you can move. You won’t use your powers on me, and you won’t try to call for help. Do you understand?”

I tried to send him flying backwards, but I couldn’t make myself do it. Some little part of me didn’t want to hurt him, and it was enough for Carl to be able to use it against me. I had never felt so helpless – it was like I’d lost a limb. “Prick!” I spat at him.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Now give me your phone.”

I had reached into the pocket of my jeans and handed him my mobile before it even occurred to me to wonder what he wanted with it. “What are you doing?” I asked as he began scrolling through my contact list.

“Taking care of some unfinished business.” At my confused expression, he elaborated, “I’m ringing Spark. Do you think he’d pick up if he knew it was me calling? He basically hates me now.”

“He hates me too,” I said morosely.

“I’ll willing to bet he doesn’t hate you enough not to answer your phone call.” He put the phone to his ear as it began to ring. For the first time, I prayed Spark was still angry enough with me to ignore the call – I didn’t know what Carl wanted with him, but I doubted it was anything good.

After several rings – during which I strongly suspected Spark was debating whether or not to ignore it – he finally answered the phone. When I strained my ears, I could just about hear him. “Hallow,” he said, and sighed. It was astonishing how much emotion he could inject into one little sigh. It made my heart ache. “What do you want?”

“Actually, this is Carl,” he said conversationally. “Hallow’s a little tied up right now.”

“Oh.” Instantly, Spark’s voice grew cold. “Then what do you want?”

“I just thought you’d like to know Hallow and I have been having a good old chat.” His eyes met mine, and he grinned. “Isn’t it amazing how close you can be to a person and still not know anything about them? Such as, can you believe Hallow didn’t know I’m the one who killed her half-sister? You learn the strangest things about people.”

There was a long silence on Spark’s end, during which he was presumably processing Carl’s words, and then: “You fucking bastard.” His next words surprised me. “Where is she? Put her on. If you’ve hurt her, I swear to God I’m going to hunt you down and kill you!”

“I’ll save you the trouble. We’re in warehouse number fourteen on the Manfield industrial estate. Why don’t you join us?”

Something about Carl’s expression in that moment tipped me off. Suddenly the other shoe dropped and I knew what he was doing. He was going to kill Spark – he’d said himself Spark was weak. Apparently he didn’t think it was worth keeping Spark around to see what decision he would make on Halloween. Spark had chosen long ago not to give in to the darkside, which meant he was now worthless to the demons. And Carl had already killed several people; what was one more body?

I had to do something to stop him from coming here. “Spark, don’t listen to him!” I said desperately, loud enough for him to be able to hear it. “Please don’t come here!”

Carl backhanded me. It was so unexpected that I cried out in pain even as it sent me reeling backwards. I fell arse over tit and landed in an ungainly heap on the cold concrete. I put my hand to my lip and drew it back; there was blood on it. I was so shocked – Carl had never hurt me physically before – that I could only listen helplessly as he said into the phone, “Did you hear that? Good. You have exactly half an hour, and then I’m going to become very violent. Tick-tock, Spark.” He closed the phone with snap that had a sound of finality to it, and smiled at me. It was a dangerous and mischievous smile, one I recognised vividly from our time together four years ago, which somehow made it all the worse. “He’ll be here soon. Then we can get this over with.”

“He won’t come,” I said, trying to sound confident. It was difficult speaking around my split lip. “He heard my warning. He won’t come here.”

Carl laughed. “Don’t be thick, Hallow. Do you think it was an accident that I didn’t order you to be quiet? I wanted him to hear you. Spark might act tough, but deep down he’s got that whole hero complex going on. He wants – needs – to do the right thing. You probably only encouraged him to get his arse over here.”

I was so horrified, I couldn’t speak.

“We’ve got some time to kill. I’m going to see if there’s anything here worth stealing, okay? Don’t go anywhere.” His words held the compulsion behind it, and then he disappeared into the darkness of the warehouse. It seemed to consist of several rooms, and I heard a door close as he moved to a different part of the building. Leaving me still sitting there like a lemon.

“Shit,” I said to myself. How the hell was I going to get myself out of this situation? I had spent so much time and energy training with Damon to improve my control over my powers, only to have them become useless to me. I hadn’t realised how much I had come to rely on them until they were taken away from me. Now Spark was walking into a trap and I could only watch. The situation was definitely dire. Where the hell was Superman when you needed him?

And, in that moment, Alex appeared right in front of me.

“Oh good,” he said, noticing me, his expression melting into one of relief, “I’ve found you.”

If I hadn’t basically been glued to the spot, I probably have run screaming from the warehouse. Instead I blinked at him a few times, fairly certain my eyes were deceiving me, pinched me arm to ascertain whether or not I was dreaming, and then demanded of the room in general, “What the fuck?!”

“Don’t freak out,” he said, his voice soothing. He held up his hands in an I-come-in-peace gesture.

“Too late. I’m freaking out.” My own voice has risen several octaves as hysteria threatened to overwhelm me again. My heart was pounding so hard and fast, surely the whole of Oakchurch could hear it. Was no one who I thought they were? “How did you do that? What are you? Are you…evil?”

Alex smiled and sat down opposite me, crossing his legs nonchalantly. I wanted to flinch away from him, but I couldn’t, and a part of me knew Alex didn’t want to hurt me. I mean…he was Alex. He was sweet and safe and human – well, maybe not the last one. “I’m not evil, I swear. I’m…” He hesitated a second before plunging on. “I’m a half-angel.”

My mind went utterly blank. “A half-angel,” I repeated dumbly.

“Yes.” His dark eyes searched my face warily. “Are you still freaking out?”

“A little.”

“Don’t. I’m here to help you, not hurt you. I’ve wanted to tell you what I am for a long time now, but I was under strict instructions not to do so. I wasn’t supposed to influence you in any way.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking almost sheepish, and continued, “The thing is, I’m kind of your guardian angel.” While I was still processing this – guardian angel? – and wondering whether it would be overly dramatic to smack him, he was beginning to babble: “Half-angels are somewhat like half-demons in that we’re the product of a male supernatural – an angel in my case – and a human mother, but there are several differences. We have a normal gestation period, and we can be conceived at any time of the year, not just May Day or Halloween. When we turn eighteen, we’re assigned a ‘ward’, so to speak. You’re mine. I’m supposed to look out for you and make sure you don’t get into too much trouble…but I suppose I’ve sort of failed there, haven’t I?” His face twisted into a wry smile.

“Just a bit,” I agreed, and an image of the police officer crumpling to the ground flashed through my mind. I shuddered. “What do you mean when you say you weren’t supposed to influence me?” I was beginning to calm down now; I had always suspected half-angels existed, and now little things about Alex that had never quite made sense were beginning to come together in my mind. I thought of how he had kept appearing recently whenever I was having a particularly shitty day. I remembered the wry smile he’d given me – very much like the one he wore now – when he had helped me avoid Carl at work several weeks ago and I’d told him gratefully and jokingly that he was an angel. More than that, it was his whole personality. He just exuded an aura of purity and goodness.

I was such an idiot.

“Half-angels are only assigned to people – humans or half-demons – with the potential to do great things with their lives, but who need a little guidance for whatever reason,” he explained patiently. “The thing is, we’re only allowed to sort of…nudge them in the right direction. We can’t tell them what we are or that we’re there to help them because it might make them more likely to do the right thing – but for the wrong reasons. They…you…have to come to the right decision on your own. As soon as you decided what to do on Halloween, even though it was only in your own head, we knew about it. I’ve been waiting for Carl to leave you alone ever since so I could come to you.”

“I have the potential to do a lot of good?” I said wonderingly. It was the first time in over a month that I had felt like my life had some sort of meaning to it; not only did I have the power not to be evil, but I had the power to be a good person. It was amazing.

Alex smiled at me. “Yes. You do.”

My thoughts made an abrupt U-turn, returning swiftly to the Alex-is-a-half-angel thing. “That thing you just did…appearing like that…is that your power?”

“Yes.” He nodded and pushed his hair out of his eyes. “All half-angels have the same power, though; it doesn’t vary between us like it does with half-demons. It’s kind of like teleportation, really.”

Very cool.

“So what’s the plan?” I asked him.

His forehead creased in bewilderment. “Plan?”

“Yes. Aren’t you here to save the day or whatever?”

“Er,” he said ineloquently, fidgeting uncomfortably in front of me while I narrowed my eyes at him. “I hadn’t really thought that far ahead, to be honest. I could just teleport away with you, I suppose, but it won’t solve the wider problem of what we’re going to do about Carl. Before you hit me, no, I didn’t know he was the half-demon murderer until you did.” He leaned forwards, his eyes serious and intent. “I know he ordered you not to use your powers, but I need the specifics – did he say not to use them at all, or just against him?”

I demonstrated by using my telekinesis to pick up a notepad that had been discarded on the dirty floor and sent it flying into the side of Alex’s head.

“Ow.”

“The latter,” I said belatedly. It was kind of a relief to still be able to use my powers, even if it wasn’t on the right person. “Why don’t you stop him yourself? Get your heavenly thing on and guilt-trip him to death or something!”

Before Alex could reply, I heard footsteps approaching and we both turned our heads in the direction of the sound. Carl was returning. I blinked, and in the nanosecond my eyes were closed, Alex disappeared. Damn. As Carl came into sight, I tried to arrange my expression into one of annoyance and mild fear, which was all too easy to cultivate.

“This place is fucking boring,” he said disgustedly. “Spark better arrive soon, or I’ll probably die of boredom first.”

One could always hope.

He glanced down and noticed the notepad that had fallen to the floor beside where Alex had been sitting less than a minute ago. He reached down to pick it up, turning it over in his hands. “What’s this doing here?” He gave me a suspicious look. I tried my very best to look innocent while mentally trying to knock him on his arse with the full force of my power. Nothing.

He frowned at me. “Get up,” he ordered, and I rose to my feet like a marionette being controlled by its puppeteer. My eyes burned with unshed tears – ones of frustration, mostly. I hated feeling helpless, especially with someone I had once felt so comfortable with. He was still looking suspicious and I was afraid that if he compelled me to tell him the truth, a part of me would want to and I’d spill my guts about Alex, so I did the only thing I could think of to distract him: I stepped forwards and planted my lips on his. There was an initial moment of surprise when he didn’t react, and then his hands seized my arms in an unyielding grip, pulling me against him and returning the kiss with fervour.

I deepened the kiss. I wish I could say I was only playing a part, that I didn’t want it, but I would be lying. He wasn’t compelling me; I was doing it of my own free will. The kiss tasted of happy memories with a hint of the bittersweet, and there was something of a goodbye about it. The whole time I was fighting to break free of the compulsion he had put me under that prevented me from hurting him. I thought about the people he had killed and the pain he had put me through. I used the full force of my will, and apparently I was stronger than I’d realised, because suddenly it was like something had snapped. Carl didn’t seem to notice – his tongue was busy probing my mouth – but he certain paid attention when I pulled away from him abruptly.

I leaned forwards and kissed him again, this time very gently, because I felt that after everything that had happened between us, I owed him something. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, and I meant it. A solitary tear leaked from my eye.

His brows drew together in confusion. “What for?”

“This.” And I blasted him with my telekinesis.

He went flying backwards like he was on a wire, and crashed into a stack of boxes against one wall. He fell to the ground like a ragdoll, his head hitting the concrete with an awful crack. He didn’t get back up.

Trembling from head to toe, I approached him slowly. My steps were clumsy and laboured, like a toddler taking its first steps. I crouched down besides him and felt for a pulse at his wrist; words can’t describe how relieved I was when I found one. It was weak and sluggish, but definitely there. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I’d killed him.

“Is he dead?”

I didn’t turn around at the sound of Alex’s soft voice. I stretched out my hand and stroked the backs of my fingers down Carl’s cheek, sweeping them across to the lips that had given me such pleasure once upon a time. He looked young and very fragile, his eyes closed and his eyelashes making little crescents on his cheeks. No one looking at him now would be able to believe he was capable of murder. “No. He’s just unconscious.”

Alex found some rope, and between the two of us we were able to bind Carl’s hands and feet to prevent him from escaping when he woke up. If he woke up. At the very least he would have a nasty concussion. I was trying to think of a concrete way to get Carl convicted for the murders he had committed that was better than simply telling the police “He told me so.” As for the policeman he’d shot…well, that was as much my fault as it was his, and I was (more or less) willing to accept the consequences. Would turning myself in result in a lighter sentence? Just thinking about the whole thing made my stomach churn unpleasantly.

Although Alex departed to see if Carl had conveniently left any evidence incriminating himself lying around at his house, I chose to stay put and wait for Spark. I didn’t have long to wait. I heard the roar of an approaching motorbike, which then cut out and was replaced with pounding footsteps. A moment later Spark burst into the warehouse. He came to an abrupt halt when he noticed me apparently unharmed.

“You’re late,” I informed him smugly. This damsel in distress didn’t need a knight in shining armour; she was entirely capable of saving herself.

“Clearly.” Spark crossed his arms over his chest in a move that I wasn’t sure whether it was supposed to be aggressive or defensive. His worried expression had melted away. “Where’s Carl?”

I stepped aside to reveal Carl’s unconscious body, trussed up like a Christmas turkey. “Let’s see how much he likes being helpless.”

Spark smiled at me. It felt like the first warm, genuine smile he had given me in a long time. “You’re magnificent,” he said sincerely. “Has anyone ever told you that before?”

I grinned. “Once or twice.”

“So what now?”

“Now I have to ring the police and tell them what he did.” I hesitated momentarily, and found myself blurting out in a rush, “Spark… Earlier tonight Carl and I robbed a bank, and the police came and he shot an officer. I don’t know if he’s dead or not. But he saw our faces. I’ll have to tell the police all of that, too, and I don’t know what will happen to me if I do.” Tears had begun streaming down my cheeks during my little speech, but my voice remained surprisingly steady.

A part of me wanted Spark to embrace me and tell me everything would work out all right, but he didn’t. He absorbed my news with composure, and nodded slowly. “I see. Where’s the gun Carl used to shoot the officer?”

“Still on him, I think.” I realised suddenly that Carl could easily have threatened me with it, but he hadn’t once done so. Had it even occurred to him?

“Did you touch it?”

I shook my head vehemently. “No.”

Spark’s tense posture relaxed an infinitesimal amount. “Good,” he said briskly, becoming all business. “Your fingerprints won’t be on it. So even if you got charged with robbing a bank, there’s proof you had no part in shooting the policeman. Where’s your phone?”

The sudden change in conversation topic disarmed me, and I took a moment to answer. “Er… Carl still has it.”

Spark strode over to Carl and, after a brief search, found my mobile in the right pocket of his jeans. He flipped it open and gave me a smile that was probably supposed to be reassuring. My heart was pounding like a racehorse. I’d had encounters with the police before, but never for anything as serious as bank robbery, and I had never actually been charged with anything. I was not at all looking forward to the conversation that would follow. But I remained quiet and watched as Spark phoned the police to tell them of my misdeeds.

Ages ago, when I first came up with the idea of Carl as a half-demon, I spent a long time debating with myself about what his power was going to me. It was initially going to be invisibility before I decided that wouldn’t really work, so then I thought of mind-control. My problem with that was I didn’t want to excuse Hallow’s behaviour over the course of the story – she’s done some pretty naughty/shitty things, and it would easy to say it wasn’t really her, Carl made her do it all. But the truth is it was her own choice, her own decision to walk on the wild side, and while Carl might have given her a nudge in the right direction with his powers, she would probably have done those things anyway. Hence the clause that meant Carl could only compel people to do things a little part of them wanted to do.

Did anyone guess Alex was a half-angel? I dropped so many hints, but maybe they were too subtle for people to pick up on.