Gilded Cage (Dark Gifts #1)(49)

‘Angel? Not an entirely reassuring name.’

Renie cocked her head, amused.

‘It’s not her real name. None of us know that. But we call her our Angel of the North. You know, like that big sculpture with wings up by Riverhead. And also – well, you’ll see.’ The kid cackled. ‘Anyway, are we done here?’

They were. Luke pocketed the keys.

Renie navigated them across town to the rendezvous point – a dusty storeroom where long-dead paperwork lay coffined in archive boxes. There they found only Jackson, still and calm, and Jessie, pacing like she wanted to wear a hole in the ground that Oz could crawl through to Australia.

‘Why are we still waiting, Jack? Who knows what they’re doing to him?’

Jess dashed at the tears spilling from her eyes with a violence that was half fury, half despair. Guilt, too, Luke suspected, given that she had escaped while Oz had been captured. The sight of her wrung his heart.

‘We all know the drill, Jessica,’ the Doc said. ‘No rescue attempts for the first forty-eight hours. Prisoners are too closely guarded and there’s insufficient time to establish Security routines. Hilda’s been monitoring the camera feed from the cell, so we know Oz is okay. Not great – they’ve been beating on him pretty hard – but nothing that won’t mend. Plus, we’ve had to work out how to get him out. Angel will be here any minute, and then we go.’

‘You think she’ll manage it?’ sniffed Jess, her voice as raw as if she’d done a few shifts back to back in the Zone D stokeholes.

Something unreadable flashed across Jackson’s face.

‘She’s never failed anyone yet. I’ve not been in Millmoor a year, but she’s been doing this sort of thing far longer than that. I trust her with my life, and – which is saying rather more – with the lives of all of you. Luke’s sorted the vehicle, now I need you to get Angel to it. You can’t stay here and I’m not going to risk you coming with us.’

‘I can’t believe you’re taking those kids and not me,’ Jessica burst out. ‘I swear, if those Security bastards have done anything to him . . .’

‘Which is exactly why I’m not taking you. Sit down, Jessie. Deep breaths. This rescue is happening and we’re going to get Oz out.’

Squatting on the floor, listening, Luke’s brain caught up with what Jessica had just said. Taking those kids.

The only kids in the room were Renie and Luke himself. They were the only other people in the room, full stop. Renie had told him that Asif and the ditcher sisters were doing their techno-whizzy things at separate locations, monitoring the detention centre remotely. The Doc wore some kind of earpiece that crackled occasionally as they spoke to him.

Jessie slumped against a stack of boxes, head down. Apart from her uneven breathing, the room was quiet. Jackson walked over to Luke, who was suddenly hyper-aware of Renie watching them both.

‘I’m not taking you anywhere you don’t want to go,’ Jackson said. ‘But Jess is right. I’d like you to come with me and Renie. Oz is a big guy, and he may need help getting on his feet and moving.’

Jessica stifled a sob.

‘We’ve got to get in and out as fast as possible. I’m not going to be able to give him any medical assistance until we’re away from the building. If we encounter anyone, I’ll need to deal with them. Hopefully we won’t, because Asif and the girls will be following the whole thing and telling us when it’s clear. But this all means you’ll need to look after Oz.’

‘Won’t it look suspect, you being in there with kids – I mean, someone as young as Renie?’ Luke said.

‘Renie will wait at the entrance, to alert us to anything outside that the others don’t catch on the cameras and comms. You’re big enough to pass for Security. Renie’s been clothes shopping and has a uniform that’ll fit you. Luke, I won’t let this go wrong.’

‘Don’t make promises you can’t keep,’ Jess said bitterly.

‘Oh, it’s not a promise,’ said a low, unfamiliar voice with just a hint of a Newcastle accent. ‘It’s a fact. Hello, Doctor Jackson.’

The Angel of the North.

As she joined them under the flickering strip light, Luke immediately understood the other reason for her nickname.

She was tall and blonde and utterly gorgeous. Like something out of a magazine – those pictures teachers always told you were airbrushed, so normal girls shouldn’t feel inadequate trying to match them. But this woman was perfect just as she was. Perfect like an angel in a church window, or a lingerie advert. A single immaculate snowflake fallen into Millmoor’s filthy streets.

‘Hi, Renie,’ said Angel, with a nod of acknowledgement. ‘And you must be Jessica. I know you’re awfully worried about Oswald, but he’s going to be safe now. And you’ll be Luke. I’ve heard all about you.’

‘You’re . . . Angel,’ Luke said, offering his hand for her to shake. And really, who knew it was possible for his palm to perspire that much in just ten seconds flat? Her touch tingled across it like electricity. ‘I asked . . .’ He laughed nervously. ‘I asked Renie why they call you that. But I guess now I know.’

She smiled. Luke didn’t think there could be anything in the world more magical than that smile, not even Skill itself. His face heated as if he stood in the components shed. She was older than him. But not by much. Surely not by much?