by T. R. Hamby
She didn’t like him. He had noticed that the moment he met her. He found this both amusing and intriguing--although he knew why she had recoiled from him. His anger had been nearly at surface level when they were introduced. After all, he was standing next to a disgusting creature, a serial rapist. He was sure Nora had been affected by his anger, as all mortals were.
He let himself into his apartment. His body ached, and he felt exhausted. He usually felt drained after these things. He went to the kitchen and went about making himself a drink, very aware of his brother standing in the living room.
“Come to lecture?” he asked without turning around. He had felt Michael’s Presence before he had even walked through the door.
Michael didn’t respond right away. “You know what’s best,” he finally said, quietly. “But--”
“But.”
“You know it’s better that we keep what we are to ourselves,” he said cautiously.
Mel finally turned. Michael was standing in the living room, his hands in his pockets. He was tall, but not as tall as Mel. But he was broad, and strong--very strong.
Mel sipped his drink and shrugged. “She doesn’t believe me. She’s too smart for that.”
He shrugged too, standing awkwardly. “She will.”
Mel simply stared, coldly. He was tired, but anger still prickled under the surface, wanting to lash out, wanting to fight. His head and fingers twitched, longing.
He took a steadying breath, and decided to change the subject. “Why were you watching me?” he asked evenly.
Michael suddenly looked worried, his brow furrowing. “I wanted to see if you were coming back. I have something I need you to look at.”
He approached the kitchen counter with his hand in his pocket. He hesitated, then withdrew a jewel, a brilliant lavender jewel, perfectly cut to the last millimeter.
Mel brightened, and he cocked his head--he loved jewels. They were such pretty things.
“Can you tell me where it came from?” Michael asked as Mel picked up the stone, holding it up to the light.
Mel studied it, twisting it this way and that, watching as it caught the light and sparkled.
He frowned as he made the connection, and looked at Michael.
“It’s from Home,” he said, confused. “But it’s not mine.”
Michael looked as if he had already guessed. He took the jewel back, his jaw working.
“This was part of a ring...I found it by the body of a murdered woman,” he said quietly, staring vaguely at the stone. “I think she ripped the ring off her killer’s hand while he strangled her.”
Mel was staring at him. “You think the killer wore a ring made in the Immortal World?”
Michael looked at him and nodded.
They shared a grave look.
Mel swore under his breath, running his fingers through his hair and feeling ten times more exhausted. “So the killer is an Angel. Again.”
“This is the first time in nearly a thousand years.”
“There shouldn’t be any times,” Mel hissed furiously. He downed his drink and turned to pour another. “Fuck. Why can’t they stay Home where they belong? Why does he let them exist--these freaks that want to hunt humans?”
Michael was silent. Mel turned back around, a fresh drink in his hand, glowering at the counter.
He took another steadying breath. “Do you know anything yet?”
“Just that it’s definitely one of us,” Michael replied. “I’ll tell you as soon as I find out more. And then…”
He trailed off, but Mel finished it with, “I know. You find them; I kill them.”
It was what they had been doing for hundreds of thousands of years--not long after the War, after the great battle that momentarily killed Mel.
Michael nodded awkwardly. There didn’t seem to be any more to say, so he went to the middle of the living room, taking a step backward and vanishing. Traveling is what they called it, and it was very useful--except to Mel, who was terrible at it.
Mel downed the rest of his drink. He was tense, knowing there was another Angel out there, murdering. And in such a large city, where victims fell so easily through the cracks. How Michael happened upon this, Mel had no idea--unless Father had told him about it.
He had a headache now, and his head twitched. He had been on Earth too long; he could feel it. His body was starting to become mortal. He felt pain now, exhaustion. Soon his body would fail, and he would go down to Hell to Regenerate. He wasn’t looking forward to it.
He dragged himself to the bedroom, lying down on the bed with his clothes on. He instantly fell asleep, and dark dreams haunted him...Lilith in his arms...Michael, striking him in the face, knocking him to the ground...Lilith’s cries, her tears...her screams…
He woke with a start to his phone ringing. Light was streaming through the window; he glanced at the clock and saw, with a jolt, that it was noon.
Shit.
He sat up, grabbed his phone from the nightstand and glanced at the screen.
Antonia.
He sighed a little and pressed the phone to his ear. “Ciao, amica.”
“Mel--you’re never going to believe this. Leo Ricci--you know, our director--he’s dead. Some of the cast found him this morning in his office. The police are here...interviewing people, scaring the shit out of us…”
“Are you all right?” Mel asked gently.
“God, I don’t know--are you busy? Could you come by?”
He was already getting out of bed. “Of course.”
“God, thank you,” Antonia sighed.
There were several police cruisers, as well as a coroner’s van parked in the street behind the theater. Mel couldn’t help but smirk--Ricci was in Hell now, forever paying his debts. He slipped through the back door and immediately caught sight of Nora, sitting at a table with Bezi.
She looked glum, and clearly hadn’t slept. She caught Mel’s eye and tensed, staring at him warily.
Mel deflated a little. It bothered him to see her look at him that way. She was clearly a good person, and he had terrified her. He gave her a little nod before heading down the hall to Antonia’s office. Leo’s was on the other side of the hall, and he could see police going in and out, murmuring to each other.
Antonia was rifling through some papers. Her blonde hair was thrown into a messy bun, and there were tears in her eyes. She looked up when he entered and flew to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her head into his chest. Mel held her tight, and asked all the expected questions. What happened? How did he die? Have the police said anything?
“I know I shouldn’t say it, but this is going to be a nightmare,” she moaned, speaking her usual Italian. “I don’t know how long it’ll take to find a new director. And we only have enough money to pay some of the cast while we look...the others will probably leave, and then we’ll have to find new people…”
Mel took out his phone. “I’m wiring some money to the theater’s account now,” he said.
“No--Mel--that’s not what I meant,” she replied quickly.
“I know,” he said soothingly. “Don’t worry about it. I’m a patron, right?”
She let out a breath, looking immensely relieved. “Any show you want. Any time. It’s yours free.”
“I didn’t already get that?” he joked, and she rolled her eyes, gently smacking his arm.
“You’re a good friend, Mel,” she said softly, and Mel smiled at her. He couldn’t help but remember all the fun they had had together, before she had gotten married. She was funny, kind. There were many he knew like that, though never quite the same. That was what was nice about single life--all his different lovers.
“We had good times, didn’t we?” he asked.
She smiled warmly, nodding. “We did.”
“Mi scusi,” a familiar voice said, and Mel looked over his shoulder at the door.
Nora was standing there, still looking wary.
She looked at Mel. “Can we tal
k? When you’re done.”
And she left.
Mel felt a thrill. So she wanted to talk. That was a good sign...possibly.
He turned back to Antonia, who was frowning. He shrugged, and she smiled again.
“I’ll ignore that,” she chuckled, returning to the pile of papers on her desk. “But don’t break her heart, Mel. I need her focused for the show.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Good girl,” she said absentmindedly. “All my girls are good...she’s the daughter of Eduardo Rossi, you know. Wonderful singer...he did some performances here back in the day. But then he had kids, and I guess he put his career on hold for them. Moved to the states. Died just a few years ago. Heart attack.”
Mel frowned. “That’s a shame.”
“Yes…”
She finally looked at him again, and smiled. “I better tell the cast they can go home. Rehearsals will have to be postponed...thank you for everything, Mel, but I’d better get back to things…”
“Happy to help, amica,” he said, his mind on Nora.
He left the office and returned backstage. Nora was by the back door, bag slung over her shoulder, bouncing on her feet antsily. She straightened when he approached her, and frowned, looking him up and down.
“You came in that?” she asked, eyeing his T-shirt and jeans. “It’s like, forty degrees outside.”
Mel chuckled. “I don’t get cold,” he replied easily. One Angelic trait he hadn’t lost yet.
It took her a moment, and then she rolled her eyes. “Right. Angel powers. Okay. Anyway, let’s get some coffee. Ciao, Bezi.”
Mel followed her down the street, to a little cafe on the corner. He had been to this cafe before with Antonia, and ordered his favorite cappuccino. Nora ordered a cafe americano, and they sat down at a table.
“I’m surprised you came into work,” Mel said right away.
Nora dumped some sugar packets into her coffee, her brow furrowed. “I didn’t want to look suspicious,” she murmured.
She looked thoughtful, so Mel sipped his coffee, waiting for her to speak.
Finally she looked at him, and leaned in, whispering, “Seriously. How did you do it?”
“I told you,” he replied patiently.
She sighed, straightening, and stirred her coffee. “I feel like I should feel guilty...for knowing, I guess. But I don’t. I’m glad he’s gone. I mean, he never killed anyone--but what he did--it’s disgusting. It’s horrific.”
“He would have done it again,” Mel said firmly, “and again and again. He was a predator. One of the women he attacked in a park. And another on a date.”
She looked stunned. She shook her head. “God. How do you know that?”
“I told you--I do my research.” When she gave him a look, he sighed and said, “All you’re getting is the Angel story.”
“Fine. I’ll pretend.”
“Fine. My brother is Michael.”
“The ark Angel?”
Mel shrugged, making a face. “Humans like to call him that, yes. He finds these bad people and...well, investigates them, for lack of a better word. I go off what he tells me...although sometimes we have to...work together. With Ricci, we spoke with three of his victims. But there are probably more out there.”
Nora absorbed this, frowning. “And then...you kill them?”
“Yes.”
“Why doesn’t Michael just do it?”
Mel took a sip of his coffee and studied her. She looked eager, despite completely doubting his story. Still, this detail was going to be a doozy.
“I have special powers,” he said, and she immediately made a face. He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were going to pretend.”
She huffed and nodded, gesturing for him to continue.
He couldn’t help but smile at her. “All of the older Angels, and many of the younger, have some sort of Talent. Mine is my anger. It’s deadly to mortals. If I’m...furious enough, all they have to do is look into my eyes. It’s petrifying. Blood-curdling.”
Nora frowned again, staring into her coffee. Mel knew she was remembering how she had felt in Ricci’s office. She seemed perplexed, and he wondered if she was starting to rethink her doubts.
But she looked at him again, and lifted her chin. “It could still be hypnosis.”
“Come on,” Mel chuckled. “I’ve never heard of hypnosis killing anyone.”
“Insulin,” she shot back. “It won’t show up on an autopsy.”
“When did you see me administer insulin?”
“I wasn’t there the whole time,” she said insistently.
Mel shook his head. “Insulin overdose usually causes seizures, and wouldn’t kill him instantly like I did.”
Nora huffed, stirring her coffee and looking cross.
“Why do you care?” Mel asked curiously, cocking his head. “All you have to do is accept that it happened, regardless of how.”
She gave him a look. “Because I have to know. I have to.”
He felt a pang. That was what Lilith had said. I have to know.
His necklace--the sapphire pendant he always wore--hung heavy on his chest. It had been hers, once upon a time.
Nora was frowning at him, and he shook himself.
“I shouldn’t even be telling you this,” he muttered, mostly to himself.
“Why?” she asked dryly. “Are the Men in Black going to take you away?”
He chuckled. “No. It’s just better for you if you don’t know.”
“I don’t know what Antonia sees in you. You’re a legit crazy person.”
“I didn’t realize you took me out to insult me,” he replied flatly, frowning. “How do you know about me and Antonia?”
“Bezi, of course. She figured you had...well, yeah.”
Mel shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. For some reason, Nora knowing about his history with Antonia made him feel awkward.
“Are you seeing anyone?” he asked casually, and she gave him a mortified look.
“Are you hitting on me?” she exclaimed, keeping her voice hushed.
“No,” he said calmly. “You just called me crazy.”
“You just asked me if I’m seeing anyone!”
“I can’t ask questions too?” he shot back.
She looked stumped, and she let out a sigh. “No...nothing serious. I don’t do serious, to be honest.”
“No?”
She still looked reluctant to share, stabbing her spoon into her coffee as if it had done her great harm. “I’m not a relationship person. I like my independence...and I meet so many men who want to tie me down. Make me a wife and mother. It’s not what I want.”
“What if you fall in love?”
She looked at him, and actually smiled. “I doubt that will happen.”
Then she cocked her head, leaning back in her seat, smirking. “I bet you’re the type of guy who doesn’t do relationships, either. But then you fell in love, right? And you got your heart broken.”
Mel felt his face fall. There was an ache in his chest, and Lilith’s face flashed in his mind.
Nora was smug. “Let me guess. Another Angel?”
“No,” Mel replied quietly, “a human.”
“What did she do? Decide it was too much? Leave you at the altar?”
Mel heaved a sigh; he suddenly wasn’t interested in this game anymore.
“She died,” he said flatly, draining the rest of his coffee.
Nora looked surprised--and then guilty. “Shit--I’m so sorry,” she whispered, and she reached out and touched his arm.
He felt a little jolt at her touch, and he stared at her hand for a moment, surprised. It had been a while since he had felt that.
She slowly took it away, and he met her gaze. There was understanding in her expression.
“My dad died,” she said quietly. “Almost six years ago now. But it still feels like yesterday.”
No! Please--don’t hurt her...please, please...kill me instead…
&nb
sp; His own voice rang in his ears, as sharply as if he had just uttered them, and his chest was suddenly tight, his eyes prickling.
He cleared his throat. “I can understand that,” he said hoarsely.
“I don’t know...sometimes I think he’ll call me. I just...forget. And then I remember.”
Mel kept his eyes on the table, but nodded--he completely understood. There were times when he woke in the middle of the night, thinking she was beside him...he’d turn to hold her and find nothing there…
They were quiet for a moment, Mel taking steadying breaths, hoping Nora didn’t see how much this had affected him. He had been thinking about Lilith a lot lately...she haunted his dreams. Things were painful right now.
“Hey…” Nora finally murmured, and Mel looked at her again. She looked sheepish, and she was biting her lip. “I’m sorry for giving you a hard time. I mean--I don’t know--this is weird. What you did was...unexplainable. And for whatever reason you won’t...explain it. And, well, I’m kind of a bitch anyway, so…”
Mel chuckled at her, and she looked hopeful.
“You’re not a bitch,” he replied gently. “Just...spirited. I like that. It’s refreshing.”
She smiled, her brown eyes warm. “And you’re very diplomatic.”
“I hope to get a better compliment from you one day,” he joked, and she laughed.
His phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen. It was Lucia, one of his associates.
Sonja Lupo would like you to inspect a piece ASAP
He rolled his eyes. He owned a jewelry company, and Sonja Lupo was a very wealthy client. She bought jewelry from them almost monthly, and this month she was eyeing a very ornate necklace one of the jewelers had just finished making. She must have heard it was done, hence the pestering for Mel to look at it. Sonja only trusted his judgment--as she should.
He looked at Nora, who he realized had been studying him. He frowned, before saying, “Sorry--client. I have to go to the galleria.”
Nora looked curious. “Galleria?”
“Yes. I run a small company that makes and trades fine jewelry.”
She raised her eyebrows, surprised. “Really...along with your Angel work?”
“This is more of a hobby,” he said, rising.
“I’ll walk with you.” She caught his frown and shrugged. “It’s not like I have anywhere to be.”
