by Lisa Olsen
“Shut the front door! You’re serious aren’t you? He told you he was an angel? And you call me naïve!”
“Yeah, I am. And he didn’t tell me he was an angel, I saw it for myself.” Maybe I hadn’t seen the wings, but I had proof enough of his supernatural powers. I could tell she was thinking about it, turning over the possibilities in her mind and trying to decide if I was screwing with her. One of the nice things about Daphne was she had a pretty open mind. I could tell the moment she decided to just go with it.
“Your own guardian angel… and he’s sexy to boot? Where’s mine?” she pouted, and I couldn’t help but laugh at her disgruntled expression.
“I never said he was sexy, I said he was like a big puppy,” I clarified. It was Adam who was sex on a stick, to coin one of her favorite phrases. “And no, it doesn’t work like that. It’s not like he’s been following me around my whole life. See, he felt bad about me getting stabbed because of him, so he came to the hospital to heal me.” With another look to our surroundings, I lifted up my shirt, exposing the smooth expanse of skin that no longer bore even the faintest trace of the scar.
“Shut up….” Daphne murmured. “No wonder you were bent on getting out of the hospital like STAT.”
“Yeah, I didn’t exactly feel like explaining how this happened and at the time I didn’t really understand it either.”
“But you do now? You’ve seen him since then and actually talked to him?”
I nodded, steering her to one of the benches so we could sit and eat. “I followed him back to his place and cornered him until he gave me some answers.”
“You really do have more balls than brains don’t you?” Daphne gaped. “You followed a total stranger to his apartment?”
“Well… it turned out alright,” I grumbled, not quite willing to acknowledge out loud that it had been kinda stupid at the time. “You’re missing the point here, Daph, he did something to me when he healed me.”
“What do you mean?” Her eyes were wide as saucers as she popped a Frito into her mouth.
“I mean, whatever it is that makes an angel special… he called it Grace, some of it rubbed off on me.”
It took her a moment to process that while she chewed. “Then you’re part angel now?”
“I don’t know, he s St "Timesaid I was something new. And I feel… different.”
“Different how?”
“I don’t know how to explain it, but there are little things.” I didn’t mention my eyes, that was a given. Trying to explain the colorful auras around people proved to be more difficult than I’d thought.
“What color am I?” Daphne asked, ignoring the larger issue of what it might mean.
“Orange.”
“Oh…” she seemed disappointed at that. “I don’t even like oranges.”
“You’re such a dork,” I laughed. Trust Daphne to find her aura clashed with her own sense of personal style.
“Anything else?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t had the chance to test anything out.” I was eager to try the invisible thing, but I had no idea how to go about it.
“What else what can angels do?”
“I don’t know, Sam’s not all that forthcoming with the answers.” I chewed for a minute as I thought that over.
“That’s his name, Sam?”
“Yep, didn’t I say that before?”
“Nope, I don’t think so. Why didn’t you ask him about the colors and what they mean?”
“He’s not the easiest person to talk to, I kept getting distracted.”
“On the count of his sexiness?” she grinned, unable to keep from teasing me. I was glad I hadn’t mentioned Adam yet, I would never have been able to live it down. Adam was the type of bad boy that had been my kryptonite since the ninth grade. The fact that he was an angel would have no bearing on it whatsoever, she would focus on the word Fallen and nothing else.
“You should do like my mom says to do when you g Sdo ">.&nbso to the doctor. Write down all of your questions ahead of time, that way you won’t forget any of them when he tries to hustle you out of there,” Daphne suggested, bringing me out of my reverie.
“That idea’s not half bad,” I considered aloud. God only knew how turned around I got in talking to Sam. “Or maybe I should stop by church and give the priest a little Q and A?” I chuckled. I could just see it… Father, I’m trying to figure out what angelic qualities might have rubbed off on me from an angel…
“Ooh, I wonder if you could look it up on the internet?”
I rolled my eyes at that. “Yeah, like you can believe everything you read on the internet…” The best source for answers would probably be to go direct to the source. Idly I wondered if Adam really would come if I called? And what would be his price for such information?
Feeling like I’d been talking about myself for too long, I decided to change tacks. “So, tell me a bit about the guy you’ve been seeing?”
All too happy to launch into intimate detail, we spent the next half hour chatting about her current beau and all the time they’d been spending together. By the time we were done, I felt a lot more like my normal self and less like… whatever I’d become.
* * *
I half expected to get a call from Ben later in the day, but when my phone rang it was Parker, asking me to come in to work on my day off. That started to turn into a habit, which I wasn’t all that thrilled about, but I agreed to come in anyway. The overtime was too good to pass up.
It was quiet at the club, Monday nights usually were, and I spent a lot of my time hanging out, chatting with my coworkers. Walter seemed even more attentive than usual and Parker had to order him to go and stand by the door at one point when he hovered too close. Part of me wondered why Parker even noticed. When things were slow he wasn’t the type to make us polish glasses or keep busy for the sake of keeping busy. In fact, I wondered why Parker even called me in at all? He could have easily covered the bar, for all the business we got. Why pay me time and a half to sit and gossip with Alice?
Near the end of my shift, Ben walked in and I perked up to see him, stretching from my position leaning against the bar. “Hey Ben, this is a nice surprise,” I smiled, before I caught his expression and knew it wasn’t a social call. “Uh oh, what’s up?”
“Is there someplace we can speak in private?”
“Sure, give me a minute.” Flagging Alice over, I asked her to let Parker know I needed a break. Parker emerged from his office a few minutes later, raising a single brow once he caught sight of Ben.
“Detective,” Parker nodded briskly and I realized the pair must have met already. Was Ben the one who made Parker close the place down for not having the proper S> t sizlighting? In any case, I suddenly felt awash in testosterone as the men gave each other an assessing look.
“Can we use your office for a few minutes?” I asked. Parker gave me a look that spoke volumes and I quickly amended. “To talk!”
“Yeah sure, just keep an eye on the clock, darlin’,” he nodded, stepping behind the bar, his eyes on Ben the whole time. Ben, for his part, continued his half of the staring contest and I had to tug him towards the office.
“You bet.” Not stopping to wonder why it was the two men acted so strangely, I drew Ben back to Parker’s office, waiting until we were inside with the door shut to speak again. “What is it? You look like someone just ran over your dog.”
“Charles Weatie was murdered last night. We found the body today, it had been thrown in a dumpster on 99th.”
Of all the things he could have told me, that wasn’t what I’d been expecting to hear. “He’s dead?” I asked, shock taking hold of me for long heartbeats before a completely selfish feeling of relief washed over me. Was it awful to think it was great news? “How was he killed? Do they know who did it?”
Ben shook his head. “They’re still working on the preliminary report, but he was beaten pretty severely.”
“Someone beat him to death?” My brows cl
imbed at that Simb
’d expected shot or stabbed maybe.
“Yes, but he was also bleeding from the ears so they’re still working on the exact cause of death.” Ben came closer, putting his hands on my upper arms. “Mercy, what can you tell me about the other man in the alley where you were attacked?”
That was twice in a row that he’d managed to shock me, and not being much of a poker player, I’m sure my face registered distress at the question. He thought Sam had something to do with it? Oh God… had he?
I licked my lips, trying to find the right words to say that wouldn’t be a complete lie. “Ah, like I said, it was dark and my memory is kinda foggy about that night… but he had long curly blonde hair and he was tall…” That was even less than I’d told him last time and I tried not to squirm as he looked at me.
“Do you think you might be able to look through some mug shots? See if you can pick him out?”
At that I perked up, I was almost certain Sam wouldn’t be among those suspects. “Of course, I can,” I smiled openly. “You don’t need me to come in tonight though do you?”
Ben gave my shoulders a squeeze, returning my smile. “No, tomorrow morning will be fine. Mostly I just wanted you to know you don’t have to worry anymore about that psycho coming after you.”
“I guess there’s no reason to impose on your hospitality any longer,” I considered aloud. Pity, I’d started to like having someone around to share my evenings with and Mimsy loved the bigger place, but I did like my privacy.
“Listen, you don’t have to worry about it tonight. It’s late, and you can deal with moving back home tomorrow if you like.”
He really was a nice guy. “Thanks, I appreciate it. By the time I get off work it’ll be a hassle to get Mimsy in the car and drive back to my place.”
“That settles it then, back to my place tonight.”
“I’m so glad this nightmare is over. You think it’s over for me, right?”
“Well, I’ll feel better once we have Weatie’s killer behind bars, but I don’t think he’ll be coming after you. Then again… you’re more than welcome to crash at my place a little longer if you want, to be on the safe side.”
It was tempting, but I knew I wasn’t in any danger from Sam. It didn’t feel right taking advantage of Ben’s hospitality. “That’s sweet of you, Ben. I think it’s probably for the best if I move back to my place. You don’t need me cramping your style anymore.”
“Actually… it’s kinda nice having you around.” The telltale flush of color started to creep up the side of his neck.
I gave him a soft smile, not quite sure what to say to that. I liked being around him too, but that didn’t mean I was ready to move in with the guy. “I should probably get back to work. My boss is kind of a hardass sometimes about how long of breaks we take.”
“You want me to talk to him? It was official police business after all,” he offered.
“No, it’s fine, I know how to handle Parker. Trust me, if you get involved he’ll just get… he has problems with authority sometimes.” I waved away the suggestion.
“Sounds like a guilty conscience,” Ben muttered.
“Maybe, but he’s a good guy at heart,” I insisted, remembering the strange vibe I got from the two of them before.
“Alright, I’ll let you get back to it then. I’ll see you later tonight at home.” Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to my cheek and I turned my head to catch his lips on the way back, stealing a proper kiss. After all, I had to give him something to remember me by.
For the rest of my shift I buzzed with impatience to get going. All I could think of was going to see Sam. Not for the first time I wished he’d get a stupid cell phone like a normal person. But then again, he wasn’t a normal person, was he? That was the whole point. Did regular laws even apply to him? Did I have a moral obligation to turn him in if he had killed Charles Weatie?
Finally, I convinced Parker to let me go a little early and I was in my car like a flash, hoping like hell Sam was home and I wasn’t venturing into that neighborhood at night for nothing. It never occurred to me he might not be home, or what he did at night. Hell, for all I knew he was out in some other alley, doing whatever it was he’d been doing the night we’d both been stabbed. But something told me he spent most of his nights in his own apartment, poring over those books of his.
Only there was no answer when I knocked on his apartment door.
I knocked again, trying not to make too much noise as I didn’t want to disturb the neighbors and bring anyone into the hall to complain, out of self preservation. That time when I got no response, on instinct I reached out to try the door and found it unlocked. Somehow I knew Sam wouldn’t be all that interested in home security.
“Sam?” I called softly, pushing the door open and stepping into the darkened apartment. It took me a few minutes to find the light on the desk and I switched it on. The apartment was still spartan, but I was surprised to see another easy chair in the living room. It was mismatched and obviously second hand, but comfy looking. “Sam?” I called out louder, but it was pretty obvious he wasn’t home.
Adam’s invitation came to mind. He said if I called his true name, he would come. Would the same hold true for Sam? I wasn’t sure if the window needed to be open or if I needed to say something specific for it to work, but it was worth a shot.
“Samael? Can you hear me?” I called out softly, feeling foolish standing alone in the dimly lit room. Moving to the window I pushed it open, breathing in the night air. “Samael, oh Samael… come to me…” I whispered fervently, unable to keep from smiling at the dramatic words. I felt like Rapunzel in the tower calling out to her prince. Lord but I was starting to lose it…
Turning away from the window, I spied the large, leather bound book he’d been working on sitting open on the desk and couldn’t help but steal a look at what ‘wasn’t meant for human eyes’. A sheet of blotting paper covered the page and I lifted it carefully, surprised to see the detailed drawing beneath. In the same style as the other sketches, there was a rendition of a beautiful girl, long hair spilling over her shoulders in a great dark cloud. She lay supine on the ground, head turned to one side in sleep. An angel knelt beside her, his wings bowed to shelter them both. His hands lay gently on her abdomen, a glow emanating from them. Below the drawing was captioned:
The Gift of Grace
I couldn’t help but admire the artistic talent that went into the rendering even if I didn’t think it particularly looked like me. The girl in the drawing looked innocent and sweet, I had a hard time picturing myself that way.
“You are here…”
I spun at the sound of Sam’s voice, guiltily placing my body between the forbidden book and him. “You heard me?” I couldn’t help but gape at him, more than a little surprised it worked.
“You called.” He seemed to think that was explanation in and of itself.
“I had no idea it would work and you’d be able to really hear that though.”
“Then why did you call?” His brow furrowed in puzzlement and a sheepish smile tilted my lips.
“Because I wanted it to work.”
He smiled then, his features lighting up as he stepped closer. “I will always come if you call me.”
There was something comforting about a statement like that and I thought back to Daphne’s words, calling him my guardian angel. I found myself smiling foolishly back until I remembered what it was that brought S th/font>
Sam simply waited, and I forged on. “Ben told me today that someone killed the man who stabbed me, us. I need to know, was it you?” I watched his face carefully, wondering if angels could lie.
“Yes, I killed him,” he answered matter of factly.
I blinked at the unexpected response, not quite sure how to respond. Grateful for the extra chair in the room, I sank into it. “Why?”
“He deserved to die,” Sam replied earnestly, no trace of guilt or remorse to his voice.
“You don’t get to decide that!” My eyes snapped up accusingly, disturbed to find him so cold and dispassionate about it, but he was unperturbed by my tone.
“I spent many years killing in the service of the Lord. I judged him and meted out justice.”
“I thought you were demoted or something? Isn’t that what being a fallen angel is? You don’t work for God anymore, do you?”
He was silent then and I thought I might have hurt him with my heated words, but I was all mixed up inside. On the one hand I had to admit I was glad Weatie was dead. Sam was right, if ever a guy deserved to die it was him. On the other, I found I didn’t want Sam to be a killer. The notion that he’d spent years killing for God was hard to reconcile with the man standing before me who looked like he wouldn’t hurt a fly.
“Is that why you were in the alley with him in the first place? To judge him?” The thought occurred to me suddenly. Sam stood there, an inscrutable expression on his face, his silence infuriating. My temper, already roiling clo Sy rncese to the surface boiled over again. “Dammit, answer me, why did you kill him?”
“He hurt you.”
Sam looked almost as surprised as I was to hear him say that, and it was my turn to stare back at him in silence. He’d done it for me? Conflicted, I couldn’t decide if that was more or less disturbing to contemplate. “Sam… I…”
“Mercy, do not trouble yourself over his death,” Sam interrupted, closing the distance between us. “I looked into his soul and found it black and twisted with evil. Such a man should not be allowed to live and torment others. Especially you,” he added gently.
“Black and twisted…” I’d seen the darkness mottled with dark red of his aura. Was that what I saw around people? The quality of their souls? “His soul was diseased, with black splotches?”
“Yes, you saw it too?”
Mutely I nodded, but decided it wasn’t the right time for a crash course on what the other colors meant. “I’m not gonna lie, it’s a relief he’s gone,” I said carefully, coming dangerously close to sanctioning murder. “But you should have let him go to jail. If you knew where he was, you could have turned him in, tipped off the cops or something.”
