“You and me both,” I admitted. Some of my own hair had escaped its shoulder-length ponytail and I quickly pulled the unruly brown waves into place. I hated its current colour, but Raziel had plastered posters of me everywhere – if I went back to my natural blonde I’d be endangering all of us every time I stepped outside. Fortunately there was no shortage of hair dye in abandoned stores.

Reaching up, I took the sensor from my angel as she glided back down to me, her snowy wings outspread.

At one time, seeing a half-angel in action would have brought sidelong stares from the other AKs; now no one paid any attention. The group knew by now that I was nothing like the angels we were trying to defeat. My angel self didn’t have a halo, and she didn’t feed – not from human energy or anything else. I hadn’t even known I was half-angel until I was sixteen.

With a quick flutter, my angel merged into my human self, leaving just “me” standing there. Distantly, I could sense Seb’s angel merging with him too, far across the training room. At my automatic awareness of Seb – the familiar feel of his energy, so like my own – a pang of sadness went through me. I ignored it.

“Okay, guys – take five while we get this stuff turned off,” called out Alex.

I looked over as he started to roll a holograph machine back into place, his shoulders flexing through his T-shirt. He sensed me watching and glanced up. The corners of his mouth lifted as his blue-grey eyes locked with mine. Then someone asked him a question, and he turned back to his work, motioning to a cable snaking across the floor.

I smiled. Alex and I had been together for over a year now, but it didn’t seem to matter – just a look from him could still melt me.

People were standing around the training room, talking in small clusters. Occasionally a burst of laughter floated towards me. It was a relief that people still could laugh – when we’d first found out the extent of the destruction ten months ago, I’d wondered if anyone would ever laugh again.

But the human race is resilient, I guess. Down here, nobody wanted to dwell too much on what had happened to the world; conversations about it were practically taboo. The whole base knew that we had to focus on defeating the angels – not waste our energy grieving over the past.

I sighed. Good advice. So why was it so hard for me to follow it sometimes?

Liz made her way over to Sam and me, her sharp-featured face slightly flushed. “Good thing we’ve gotten so much better lately,” she said. “I cannot believe that we have less than two months left before the attack.”

Sam stretched, looking like a quarterback relaxing at half-time. “Yeah, I can’t wait for the real thing,” he drawled. “’Bout time we kicked those angels’ asses for ever.”

“If we succeed,” Liz pointed out testily. “It’s not guaranteed, you know.”

“I’m with Liz; we need all the practice we can get,” I said. I glanced at the centre of the hangar-like room, where an elaborate set rose up – a depressingly accurate representation of what used to be Salt Lake City, right down to the coils of barbed wire and perky sign: WELCOME TO SALT LAKE EDEN, A BASTIAN OF THE ANGELS’ LOVE!

A bolt of hatred for my father went through me. His Edens were everywhere now; hardly a week went by that a new one wasn’t announced on the shortwave. And we suspected that the places were even worse than we’d first thought, though we didn’t have any information from someone who’d actually been inside of one. The barbed wire glinting on top of the set’s fence said it all: once you entered an Eden, you didn’t come out again.

The strange thing was how much the Edens had helped us.

Because while most people were only too happy to flock to them, a tiny minority didn’t. They stayed on in the devastated cities or in the thousands of “dark towns” across the country, scavenging to survive. Raziel’s Edens didn’t just lure millions with their ease and electricity – they also made it clear exactly who the scrappy rebels without angel burn were. As a result it’d only taken us a couple of months to put together a good-size team of ninety-four recruits. I just really hoped that Raziel could take a moment to appreciate the irony when we finally made our move.

So I guess that was another way I’d changed: the Willow Fields of just over a year ago hadn’t been a vengeful person. But then, she hadn’t had my memories.

Liz started to chew a fingernail and caught herself. “Willow, are you sure you can’t get anything psychically about Founding Day?” she asked anxiously. “Not even a tiny hint?”

I pushed my thoughts away; I knew better than to dwell on all this. “No, I’m way too emotionally involved,” I said, managing a smile. “Sorry – psychic drawback number five.”

To be honest, I was getting tired of people asking me that, though I couldn’t really blame them, with the attack drawing so close. Salt Lake City had been the first Eden; in two months they’d be holding a massive Founding Day celebration, with thousands of angels circling overhead.

And we’d be right there waiting for them.

Everyone’s attention went to the centre of the room, where Alex was clambering onto one of the crates that made up our mock Salt Lake Eden. I smiled as I watched him, my tensions easing. I seriously didn’t think I’d ever seen anything quite as sexy as the sight of Alex wearing camouflage trousers and a black T-shirt. Unless it was the sight of him not wearing them.

He jumped on top of the crate; as he faced the team, he looked relaxed and confident, his dark hair tousled. “Okay, listen up!” he shouted. “That was excellent work, everyone. I’ve just got a couple of things to say—”

A chorus of good-natured groans. Alex grinned and swung himself down to a sitting position, legs dangling. I could see the toned outline of his chest against the T-shirt.

“Yeah, I know; I’m never satisfied, right? So, first of all – everyone still needs to work on disguising their auras. I saw a lot of you forgetting as the simulation went on.” Alex’s eyes met mine – Seb and I taught the classes for the energy work – and I nodded. The team was trying hard, but it just didn’t come easily to most humans.

“They’ll get there,” I said for us both.

“Good. And in terms of everyone’s shooting…” Alex paused, scanning the crowd before he smiled. “Guys, that was awesome. Your time was eight minutes twelve; that’s better than it’s ever been.” He scratched the back of his neck as he added casually, “Oh, and by the way – the program was set for two-fifty.”

Excitement rustled through the room; there were scattered cheers. Sam, Liz and I exchanged a jubilant glance. Two hundred and fifty angels. And we only needed to kill about half that many.

“So even with the aura work, we’re not in bad shape already – you can all be damn proud of yourselves,” Alex said firmly. “But what you cannot do is start getting cocky. Like I’ve said, shooting real angels is different. You’ve got to be aware of what the simulation can’t mimic.”

There were grim nods from around the room as he talked about angel burn, describing the ease with which an angel could link minds with you – how you’d only have seconds to break away before they started feeding from your life force, and then you’d be theirs for ever, worshipping and damaged. My fingers tightened on my rifle as I thought of my mother, sitting lost in her dreams.

“I don’t want to lose any of you, okay?” Alex’s voice was low, but it carried to every corner of the room. “Not a single one – and if we do this thing the way we’ve been planning, then I won’t.”

Emotion gripped me, recalling the dozens of nights Alex had lain awake beside me, going over the plan. They trust me, he’d said once, rubbing his forehead tiredly when I’d urged him to get some sleep. I’ve got to make sure they’re right to.