Gabriel's Clock by Hilton Pashley

green.
    â€œNo,” said Cay. “He always left out the detail. Now I understand why he can be a bit distant sometimes—it’s because he’s sad.” She looked up at the stars. “I wonder how long it takes you to fall from Heaven,” she said.
    Jonathan looked up too, wondering what it must be like to stand next to a star when it first exploded into life.
    â€œFancy a walk in the woods tomorrow?” asked Cay. “We can pack some sandwiches, and I can show you the lake.”
    â€œCool,” said Jonathan. “I’d like that.”
    They had reached Cay’s house by then, and after saying good night Jonathan made his way back across the green. He turned to look at the dark forest and shivered; it felt like he was being watched. Hunching his shoulders, he hurried back to the warmth and light of the vicarage.

Chapter 10
C ORVIDAE
    Hidden in the dark of the forest, his pinstriped suit blending into the shadows, Rook watched as Jonathan scurried across the green and disappeared through the vicarage gates.
    â€œWell, well,” he murmured to himself, idly gouging chunks of bark from a nearby oak tree with his long, talon-tipped fingers. “If that’s not the boy we’ve been looking for, I’ll eat my hat.” A red line appeared across the bottom half of the demon’s face and split apart like an opening wound. His long, mottled tongue, forked at the tip, tasted the air like a snake.
    Ceasing his surveillance, he turned and strode off to find his siblings. Pulling a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket, he dabbed at the sweat that trickled down his featureless face.
    â€œI can see you,” he said, mocking Hobbes End as he strode along. “But you can’t see me, can you? It looks like Belial was right; we finally have a way in without being burned to a crisp!”
    Â 
    Raven was sitting in the driver’s seat of the black Rolls-Royce, staring out the windscreen. Flowing from beneath the brim of her bowler hat, her long dark hair swept past the shoulders of her pinstriped suit. There was much to do, and Rook was late.
    A snapping of twigs heralded the arrival of Crow, shambling toward Raven from the direction of the forest. In one clawed hand he held the mangled carcass of a freshly butchered pheasant. In his wake, a trail of feathers led back into the trees. Across Crow’s face, a vivid smear of blood shone stark against his pale skin. Dropping his snack, he used the sleeve of his jacket to wipe away the gore. Opening the car door, he took off his bowler hat and got in next to Raven.
    â€œHungry,” he said, looking at his sister for approval.
    Raven nodded.
    Content that he hadn’t done anything wrong, Crow fixed his attention on the hat resting on his knees. He hummed tunelessly to himself while gently stroking the velvet nap of the brim. What Crow lacked in intelligence, he made up for in vicious, simple-minded brutality, and Raven liked her younger brother, very much.
    There was a sharp rap on the driver’s window. She lowered the glass to reveal the looming shape of Rook.
    â€œThe angel was telling the truth,” he growled. “The boy’s here. It looks like he’s staying at the vicarage rather than with his grandfather, which seems odd to me. Time to report in.”
    Raven started the engine, and within minutes they were hurtling down deserted country lanes far from Hobbes End. Eventually they reached a pair of electronic security gates set into a towering yew hedge. The gates swung open, and Raven drove the Rolls-Royce up a long tree-lined drive, coming to a stop outside a large, fortified manor house.
    Rook led his siblings through a cavernous entrance hall and up a wide oak staircase. He reached a leather-embossed door just off the landing and struck it with a clenched fist.
    A moment of silence passed before a voice called out, “Enter.”
    Rook, Raven, and Crow—the three demons of the