by Maya Daniels
“You want to know what has changed, Helena?” The smooth, masculine voice washes over me when he stops so close our bodies are almost touching, and I suppress a shiver as my eyes narrow at him. “You are immune to my charms, I see.” Chuckling, his eyes finally have emotion, and it looks like intrigue. That’s so not good for me! my mind screams like a frightened rabbit in front of a wolf.
“I’m immune to everyone’s charms, so don’t feel special.” Blinking a few times, I almost high-five myself at how calm I sound. Not to that green-eyed monster’s charm, you weren’t! my mind supplies and my stomach flipflops at the thought Fake it till you make it! I can do this! Cheering myself on in my head; I hold Michael’s stare.
Looking down at me, his eyes search mine for something. I silently pray to whoever listens—and hopefully whoever that is, it’s not Archangel Michael—that he doesn’t find it. I don’t know why, but something in me gloats at the idea that the arrogant Archangel can’t figure me out. Maybe seeing my best friend die has finally made me lose my mind. This is the good guy, the one that has been protecting humankind from evil since the beginning of time. I have no other explanation for why I feel so strongly about irking him.
“Interesting,” he muses while his eyes trace my face before settling on my thinly-pressed lips. Locking eyes with me again, his crinkle at the corners and something inside me says I’ll regret not keeping my mouth shut tonight. “As I was saying, the thing that has changed is that the portal to Hell was recently opened.”
The sharp, collective intake of breath feels like it sucks out the oxygen from the room. My GPS for evil starts tingling in the pit of my stomach, but for the first time, I ignore it because I’m inside the sanctuary. Of course, the damn thing is broken if it can suddenly sense evil here in the presence of an Archangel.
“What? How? When? Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” The patrons all start yelling questions at him, but the angel keeps his eyes locked on mine.
“Apparently the demons figured out that using the blood of a special kind of angel is the key,” Michael speaks, quieting everyone. “You wouldn’t know how they got their hands on the blood of an angel, would you, Helena?” Like his words invited it, the throbbing in my arm where the demon scratched me returned tenfold, and it takes everything in me not to cry out in pain.
“How would I know?” Unblinking, I stare back while my mind is replaying Amanda and George’s words after we were summoned by the patrons. Amanda took the blame to keep me safe until we figure out what is going on. The least I can do is finish what she started, so I show no emotion.
“What is the meaning of this?” Hector’s voice echoes so loud that Michael finally looks away from me to glare at my father. “How dare anyone question her loyalty! That is my child, blood or not!” His words warm me up from the inside, but that ends quickly when Michael looks back at me with narrowed eyes.
“How indeed,” the angel mumbles.
“Excuse me?” I take a step back as if he slapped me. Hector starts screaming something about the Archangel losing his mind and about leaving the Forefathers council, but I tune him out. “Who in their right mind could ever think I did something?”
After staring at me for I don’t know how long, the Archangel says one word, and everyone springs into action until it’s as quiet as a tomb in the library.
“Out!”
Now, it’s just me, Hector, and him in the vast space. My guilt hangs heavy around me, almost as a fourth person were here with us.
As soon as the doors are shut, Hector storms towards the angel, seething. I almost expected him to punch Michael in the face. “Whatever it is that you think you know, I can guarantee you it’s false! She might be headstrong and speak before she thinks, but that girl has bled for this order more than anyone else can say. So before you point a finger at her, think really hard, Michael!”
“She knows, then?” One perfectly shaped eyebrow goes up as Michael crosses his arms over his chest, watching my father like he’s an annoying fly.
“No, she doesn’t.” All the anger drains from Hector as he flicks his eyes towards me, but he doesn’t meet my eyes. Uneasiness starts swirling in my chest.
“What don’t I know?” Looking from one to the other, I almost feel dizzy from everything that happened tonight. “And just so we’re clear, I’ve never seen an angel in my life until tonight. I thought you were kinda like a figure of speech. Not actually a living, breathing person.” I wave my hand, encompassing his “person” to drive the point home.
At my words, both of Michael’s eyebrows slowly climb up his forehead as he watches Hector with amusement dancing in his blue eyes. My father, on the other hand, looks everywhere but at me as the color drains from his face. I’m tensed up, ready to spring into action and grab him if he starts going down, because he looks like he is about to have a heart attack.
“How interesting. I would’ve thought you would have seen an angel by now. As a matter of fact, you’ve seen an angel all your life.” Michael’s cryptic words only make Hector worse, because now he looks like he’s hyperventilating.
“She doesn’t know. She doesn’t need to know! Stop this!” Gasping, Hector grabs the robes he is wearing, pulling at the collar as if it’s constricting his breathing. Michael chuckles at his discomfort, and Hector’s face goes bright red. “Don’t you dare laugh!” he snaps, spittle flying from his mouth while I gape like a fish at him. “You and Raphael thought this was the best way to keep her safe and make sure she picked the right side, so don’t you go pointing fingers! I’ve done everything you’ve asked and more!” My gasp of shock makes him turn towards me, and I see guilt and pain written all over his face.
“What are you talking about? What does this have to do with what happened?” My voice trails off as reality hits me like a bitch slap to my face. “Amanda died because of me! You set her up after she lied to protect me that it was her that heard the abomination speak? You made sure she died in hopes I would live! Oh my God, you killed her!” Hector makes a grimace that looks awfully guilty, and wide-eyed, I start taking slow steps away from them both. “Who are you people? What the fuck is going on? Someone better start talking now, or I swear by everything holy I’m going to kill you both!” Pulling my guns, I aim one at Hector and one at Michael. My father pales even more, if that is possible, while Michael glares at the gun as if he can make it disappear by looking at it. “Talk!” I wave the guns at their faces.
“You were given to Hector to raise you and keep you safe, because you are half angel. This was the safest place for you,” Michael tells me, still glaring at the gun.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I look accusingly at Hector. “Actually, you know what? Never mind! That doesn’t matter right now.” Turning away from him while still keeping him at gunpoint, I look at the angel. “And what does that mean exactly, huh? Are you my father?”
“What? No!” Michael looks like I’ve slapped him, and a sharp pain pierces my chest.
“I’m not that horrible, so don’t look like I’ve insulted you, asshole!”
“Your mother was an angel.” He cuts off my tirade, and I close my mouth.
“Is she…alive?” I hate that my voice breaks, so I clear my throat. “Is she still alive?”
“No, she is not.” Hector is the one that speaks, and I slowly turn towards him, searching his eyes. “Neither your mother nor your father is alive, Helena.” Unshed tears glisten in his eyes, but they turn cold when he looks at Michael. “You better tell her everything, since you started this!”
“What more can there be?” I look from one to the other. “My mother was an angel, my father human…” My words trail off when Hector winces. “What?” Snapping the word out, I wave the guns again.
“Your father was a demon.” Michael’s emotionless voice is like a punch to my solar plexus.
“No!” My scream echoes around the library, bouncing off the walls and sounding like multiple people screaming at once. Fear and anger mix together in
a cocktail of such intense emotions that I feel like I might burst into pieces where I stand. “You’re lying! I’m not an abomination!”
“You’re not, Hel!” Hector tries to comfort me, and the asshole angel snorts at my nickname. I glare at him. “No matter what anyone says, you are not an abomination, and no one doubts your loyalty.”
“Could’ve fooled me!” Still glaring at Michael, I start taking slow steps back again. “So what does this mean?” Alarms are blaring in my head, the gut feeling in my GPS redoubles and I can’t ignore it anymore. There is definitely something evil here, but how is that possible? Or…am I the evil? The thought almost makes me double over, but I force myself to keep slowly moving away from them. “Am I evil? Is that why you’re here?”
“You are not evil…”
“The demon that scratched you took your blood with him to Hell. They know who and what you are now, and they need your blood to keep the gate open. I cannot let that happen.” Michael straightens up, and for the first time, fear grips me like hands squeezing my throat.
He is not a demon or a normal human that I can just fight off. Blessed metal, salt and holy water won’t do him harm. No matter how strong I am, there is no way I can fight him and win. So how in the hell am I going to protect myself from him? At the moment, he looks exactly like what he is, a warrior archangel. His blue eyes start shimmering like liquid silver and his blinding white wings with golden tips spread out around him as he takes a step towards me. Hector screams like a banshee and throws himself at Michael, but the angel only pushes him away one-handed, like he’s flicking off lint from his shirt.
“You cannot win this fight, Helena. I should’ve done this the day we found you, but Raphael is sometimes too sentimental for his own good. I cannot allow you to live. We all must sacrifice for the greater good of all.” He takes a step towards me with each word, and I step back. Too late, I realize he has maneuvered me around so that my back is now facing the window instead of the door.
“You will excuse me for not agreeing with that statement when I’m the one that has to die because you think it’s for the greater good? I’ve done nothing wrong!” My eyes flick to Hector, but he is crumpled on the floor, unconscious. There’s nothing I can do to help him at the moment. Hell, I can’t even help myself!
“You can try to fight the inevitable, but…”
Michael’s words are cut off by a thunderous boom and the shattering of a window. Hunching my shoulders on reflex, I watch in slow motion as tiny pieces of glass, sparkling in rainbow colors as they fly through the air around me, not touching me anywhere like I’m in some sort of a bubble, fly at the Archangel. A roar shakes the walls of the sanctuary when all of them embed themselves in both of his outstretched wings, and I drop my guns to cover my ears. When I pull my hands away, they’re covered in blood, but I can’t worry about that, because the green-eyed monster boy I saw when Amanda died flips through the window like an acrobat and bounces on the tips of his toes next to me. I had forgotten how handsome he is after he disappeared in the shadows, but I’m reminded now like a slap on my face. He’s trying to say something, but I can’t hear a word, so I just lift my hands towards him dumbly, showing him the blood. He looks down at my hands, frowning, before his head snaps to look at something and I turn my head to see what got his attention.
Michael is slowly lifting himself up, looking at both of us with murder written all over his perfect angelic face. The golden glow around him crackles and sparks fly in all directions, making my skin feel like it’s burning even from this distance. Something taps my arm, and I look back at my savior. His green eyes bore into mine as if looking for something, and after a second, he turns towards the shattered window. I turn around as well, looking at what he’s doing. The Archangel is about to kill me anyway, so some part of me decides to check out the handsome guy’s ass that makes me jealous of his leather pants. He waves his hand in my line of vision and my eyes snap to his face. With a smirk, he reaches his hand towards me. I remember his warning earlier in the night when he told me he won’t show up the third time I need him to guard my back. His eyes flick to something behind me every two seconds, but he’s not leaving or hurrying me along. He just stands there, his hand palm up within arm’s reach. I know I might regret it if I take him up on his offer, but at the moment he is giving me at least one more day to live. If I’m alive, I can try to figure this out. Or so I hope.
Looking over my shoulder, I see Michael already up on one knee, shimmering blood seeping from his wings, making them look red instead of the beautiful white they were, and he’s looking like he’s going to rip me limb from limb. Without overthinking it too much, I reach out my hand and wrap my fingers around warm, calloused ones. The stranger pulls me with him and out the window as yet another roar shakes the walls. The pressure in my head is too much, and before I say a word, my eyes roll to the back of my head.
A groan passes my lips as I bury my face in the pillow that smells so good I think I never want to leave the bed. Wrapping my arms around it, I pull it closer, pushing my nose into it and inhaling deeply. Suddenly the pillow starts vibrating, freaking the hell out of me. With a squeak that would be embarrassing if anyone heard it, I throw myself away from it. I misjudged the force I put in my push and teeter on the edge of the bed for a second, flailing my arms before gravity pulls me down and I hit the floor, hard, on my ass and hip with an audible thud.
“Ouch!” groaning again, this time in pain, I flip onto my back and start rubbing my hip while staring at the ceiling.
My hand freezes when I notice all the constellations and planets that are painted on it. The ceiling is black, and the beautiful colors of the planets and stars make it seem like you are really looking at space. This is definitely not my room. It takes me a moment to hear the chuckling coming from the top of the bed, and with dread pooling in the pit of my stomach, painfully and slowly, I lift myself up just enough so that my eyes are peeking over it. They widen in shock when they connect with green ones, and I watch the monster boy fight his laughter while his entire body shakes with the effort.
As if my looking at him was permission to do it out loud, he throws his head back and booming laughter bursts out of him. It shakes the entire bed that he is stretched out on, and my face starts turning all shades of red when I realize, mortified, that there are no other pillows on it apart from the one under his head. I’d been clinging to him like some addict, and I plop back down on the floor, covering my face with my hands. Things started going from bad to worse when I woke up yesterday morning.
“This can’t be happening!” I mumble through my hands before panic grips me and I start patting my body, making sure I’m still fully dressed. “Thank God I’m not naked,” I mumble. Finally, I take a calming breath. The laughter stops like someone turned off the sound.
“Your god had nothing to do with it! I will never undress you until you beg me to do it, cupcake.” His deep voice makes my insides vibrate, and I’m angry at myself that he is affecting me like this.
“Keep dreaming, monster boy. I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.” I’m still on the floor because obviously I’m a coward, and I can’t face him just yet. My heart stutters at the realization of what I didn’t touch when I was making sure I’m dressed. “My guns!” Jerking my body up, I scramble to lift myself up.
“Calm down. I grabbed them as soon as I realized you were hurt and your ears were bleeding. Somehow, I had a feeling they were important to you.” His eyes sparkle with amusement when I sag in relief “Not bad for a monster boy, huh?”
The entire day from yesterday crashes on me like a boulder and wariness takes over. I watch him closely, and he doesn’t shy away from my penetrating stare. He doesn’t even say anything smartass as he’s done every time I’ve seen him so far. Leaning on his forearms, he watches me as I’m watching him.
“Why are you helping me?” Narrowing my eyes, I wait to see anything, even a flicker of something that will confirm he’s the monster I know
he should be. “What are you hoping to gain?”
“Not everyone needs to want something to help a pretty girl like you, cupcake.” He frowns at me as if I’d insulted him somehow.” Some of us just like to do the right thing. Is that so hard to believe? I thought that’s what they teach you in that shithole you call home.”
“You’re a demon!” He opens his mouth to say something, but I talk over him, staring him down. “Don’t deny it! I saw your eyes when you were fighting the others!” Pointing a finger in his face, I glare at him. “Don’t you dare lecture me about doing the right thing!”
“And how exactly is it forbidden for me do the right thing? Is that something reserved just for certain species, or…” One of his eyebrows goes up, and for a moment I’m rendered speechless, just staring at his face. It should be illegal for anyone to be this handsome.
Blinking a few times to get my head out of the gutter, I frown at him. “You’re a demon!” I tell him slowly, like he is stupid and that statement explains everything.
“And you’re a human…” he drags the words out, mimicking me while I wince at his assumption and anger bubbles up in my chest.
“It’s what you abominations never do! The right thing is not what you are born to do. It’s just not in you!” Agitated, I start pacing up and down in front of the bed.
“Oh, really?” It stings my ego that he looks more handsome when he’s angry, like right now as he glares at me and his eyes look darker green then their usual color. “And what exactly, oh pure one, am I born to do? Pray tell me so I never mistake my place again!”
I know that I’m talking out of my ass right now, but I’m angry, hurt, confused, and most of all freaked out by the hold he has on me. So instead of dealing with it like a mature adult, I try my best to hurt him and insult him—for what? Because he kept his word and had my back when those I call my own turned their weapons on me to my face? Regardless of all that, I can’t stop the crap that keeps coming out of my mouth. Because if I do, I’ll be admitting that my entire life was a lie. That I am as much of an abomination as the ones I’ve been hunting my whole life. That my best friend died to protect an evil creature that doesn’t deserve to live. I’m not sure I can handle that at this moment.
