you want to do?’
‘It’s not that I want to do anything,’ Freya lied – she loved helping innocent people in trouble and hoped she could again tonight, ‘but, unlike you, I can’t just sit watching television all night. And I’ll go crazy if I keep reading my school books.’
‘What’s wrong with television?’ Orus demanded.
Freya looked at the raven and laughed. ‘Don’t get me started!’
When they reached the main downtown area of Chicago, Freya swooped closer to the rooftops. She focused her senses on finding traces of fear or people in distress. She was barraged with emotions, but none of them particularly threatening.
Then she changed direction and headed to the part of town where she had encountered the couple in danger the other night. She immediately sensed the change. Raw and sinister emotions hit her from every angle. The landscape had changed too. She and Orus were flying above a neighbourhood of damaged and burned-out buildings . . . when suddenly they heard rapid gunfire.
‘Not again!’ Orus cried. ‘Is there any point in me asking you to ignore it?’
Freya grinned at him. ‘Nope!’
Flying in the direction of the shooting, her ears picked up the sounds of different weapons. Mixed in with the gun battle were police sirens.
‘The police are here already,’ Orus warned. ‘You mustn’t be seen.’
‘You really do worry far too much,’ Freya teased. Up ahead the gunshots grew louder and more frequent. ‘It sounds like a war.’
Then they saw it. Two police cars were parked askew on the street. Officers were crouched behind their open doors, firing into the shell of a burned-out building.
Freya landed on the rooftop across the street. She peered into the building. ‘In there,’ she called to Orus. ‘Look, they have weapons.’ Her eyes moved back to the street. There were four police officers. They were badly outnumbered, but still brave in the face of danger.
She sensed at least fifteen men inside the building, shooting at the police. Focusing in on one of them, she felt fear and then determination to keep the police out at any cost. There was something hidden inside the building they didn’t want the police to find. Something they were prepared to kill for. Reaching deeper, Freya finally understood.
‘They’re drug dealers,’ she told Orus. ‘This is where they’re hiding it. They will kill the police to keep them out so they can move it from here.’
‘Freya, you can’t go down there. This is too big for you. You’ll be hurt, or captured.’
‘We can’t just stay here and watch.’
On the street, she heard a strangled cry. An officer was hit and fell to the ground. As his partner ran round the car to help them, she too was struck down.
Freya looked at the raven. ‘See what I mean? They won’t stop until everyone is dead.’
‘Uh-oh,’ Orus called. ‘Speaking of death, look who’s just arrived.’
An Angel of Death landed close to the first fallen officer.
‘Wait here,’ Freya said to Orus.
‘I’m coming with you,’ the raven insisted.
‘Orus, you’re not wearing protective armour. Just stay here and warn me if more police arrive.’
Freya grabbed her coat and leaped off the building. Silently, she glided down the street, half a block from the gun battle. She folded her wings, pulled on her coat and drew her sword.
When she reached the police car, she saw there was nothing she could do for the first fallen officer. The Angel of Death was already doing his job.
‘You shouldn’t be here, Valkyrie,’ the angel warned as he rose. The spirit of the dead officer was standing beside him, staring in wonder. ‘This is our territory. Azrael will be furious.’
‘I know. But still, here I am.’ Freya left the angel and ran over to the policewoman lying in the road. Out in the open, she was an easy target for the criminals in the building. But when she saw Freya, she held up her hand.
‘Get back,’ she warned through gritted teeth. ‘This is police business.’
Freya felt her intense pain and could see that she had been shot in the side of her torso. ‘I’m here to help you.’ She easily lifted the woman and carried her to safety behind the police car.
‘Go, get away from here,’ the officer cried. ‘You could be hurt. I’ll be fine.’
But Freya could see that she wouldn’t. Blood was pouring from her wound. If Freya didn’t act quickly, the woman would bleed to death. She covered the gunshot wound with her gloved hand. ‘If I leave you, you will die. Just be still.’
Freya searched for