Natural Born Angel by Scott Speer

criticism further down the line.”
    “We need to practise restraint,” Archangel Steeple agreed.
    A deep voice erupted down the table. It was Archangel Charles Churchson, who stood up to address the assembled Angels. Mark turned his head slightly towards Churchson as he spoke, although he still maintained his gaze out of the shimmering window.
    “Don’t play dumb. It must be Senator Linden and his people. It’s the logical next step for their organization, even if he is running a presidential campaign,” Churchson said gravely. “He’s campaigning on an anti-Angel platform, and some are starting to listen to his lies. The proposed ‘Immortals Bill’ would be the single most dangerous threat to Angels since the Great Awakening. He’s fuelling hatred, turning humanity against us. They’re making a power play, and they won’t stop until we’re totally rendered toothless, intimidated and weak. Some violent act like this was bound to happen. The question is, what will we do about it? Stand by and watch as they attack our prized institutions? Or something else.”
    More than a few heads at the table were nodding in agreement with Churchson.
    Mark Godspeed turned all the way around to the assembled Angels in the room and spoke. “Regardless of what’s decided here today, we must ensure safety and security for Angels across Angel City and the world. Whatever it takes.”
    “Mark’s right,” Holyoake said. “And part of ensuring safety is ensuring that the investigation is done properly and that we bring the perpetrators to light. That’s why we must conduct the inquiry entirely. We can’t trust a human police force. With the growing influence of Linden and his agents of hate, we can be sure there will be moles in all the human agencies.”
    Mark disagreed. “We do have friends within the police department. Perhaps we can use their resources, as well.”
    “We cannot trust them. Full stop,” Archangel Churchson said. He turned to the bank of nondescript men sitting along the wall. “How has our closing out of the police been going?”
    One of the lawyers responded. “The scene was sealed for Angels-only access shortly after ACPD arrived from the 911 call. The police complied.”
    “Good,” Archangel Churchson said. He took a drink from his coffee mug and set it back on the table.
    The glass doors to the conference room swung open. Jackson Godspeed stood there in a grey hoodie and dark blazer. A number of Angels turned to the door, surprised to see him.
    “Jacks, what are you doing here?” Mark said. “I thought you were with your mother and sister.”
    The world’s most famous Angel scanned the room, seeing Archangel Churchson’s nephew, Steven, along with a couple other Guardians from his Commissioning class last year. His cheeks burned hot with anger and embarrassment for a moment as he thought about how he hadn’t even been called for this most important of meetings. He addressed his stepfather.
    “I’m a Guardian, aren’t I? Even if I can’t fly right now,” Jacks said. “I’ve sworn to uphold and protect the ideals of the NAS.”
    A few of the Angels uncomfortably studied the table in front of them rather than match Jacks’s direct gaze.
    Mark stood up from his chair and walked over to Jackson. He put what was meant to be a conciliatory hand on his shoulder.
    “Jacks, you’ll be no good to us at all if you don’t get better,” Mark quietly said. “You need to focus on your recovery. Get your wings back.”
    Jackson’s gaze floated past his stepfather and up to the devastation and disaster of the bombing playing on the screen. Fury and determination combined in his glinting blue eyes.
    “No, Mark. I want to help. I need to help,” Jacks said emphatically. “I want to bring whatever monster did this to justice. I have to be useful somehow. Just doing anything. You’ve got to put me to work.”
    Mark seemed about to protest again when a voice spoke. Faces turned. It was Archangel