Ordinary Angels

by India Drummond

  “People value their privacy. We have boundaries. The front door is a big one. You knock, or ring the bell, and we answer it and invite you in.”

  Alexander nodded. Zoë put the coffee into the empty filter in the coffee maker, filled the machine with water and pushed the “Brew” button.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked automatically and then stopped. “Sorry, I forget…”

  “I am not human?” he offered with a boyish smile.

  Best to keep going, she told herself. “So, why are you here anyway?”

  Alexander leaned against the counter in a relaxed pose that made him look as though he belonged in her kitchen. “Thomas said to bring you today.”

  “Yeah, about that,” Zoë said. “Alexander, I don’t understand what’s going on. I meet you, and we had such a lovely time the other night, and now I’ve got angels coming out of my ears.” Then not being certain he would get the metaphor, she decided to press on. “Who is Thomas, and what’s this meeting about?”

  “How much do you know about angels?”

  “About as much as you know about making coffee.” Zoë grinned. She couldn’t believe she was enjoying herself so much, considering she kept her life under such tight control, making plans, considering options, weighing choices. Flying by the seat of her pants wasn’t her style. She had to admit the freedom intoxicated her. “Why don’t we sit down, and you tell me what I need to know.” She grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured coffee into it even though the gurgling machine had not yet finished filling the carafe. It splashed coffee on her counter, but she left it for later.

  Zoë led the way to the living room. She gathered up the pens, receipts, magazines and a candy bar wrapper she’d left there last night. “Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting company today.”

  Alexander sat on the soft couch. “I do not care where you keep your magazines, Zoë.”

  The way he said her name sent a shiver over her body. She wasn’t convinced he didn’t understand her embarrassment and suspected somewhere down in her socks he was making fun of her. She decided to play it straight until something convinced her otherwise. “Another time I’ll explain more about why this matters, Alexander, but for right now can you tell me about Thomas and this court thing?”

  “It is a kind of custody case.”

  “Custody? You have children?” She didn’t know anything about Alexander specifically, or about angels in general, but this idea shocked her.

  “No, my custody.”

  Zoë lowered herself into an easy chair. She leaned back and rubbed her hands along the fabric arms, taking in what he said. “You’re not an adult?” She swallowed hard.

  “Zoë, I am not human.”

  “I understand that. So, tell me why you are in someone else’s custody. Is this like parole?”

  “You are angry now.”

  “I’m frustrated.” She motioned with her hand for him to continue. “Just, please explain.”

  “We do not age, so when I say I am not human, it is because you keep asking human questions. I am not an adult, I am not a child, and I will never be old. Do you see? We appear as human adults from the moment we enter the mortal timeline more out of tradition than necessity.”

  Zoë nodded, not speaking because she hoped he would eventually get to something that would make her understand.

  “I have a custodian. Celion. He was entrusted with teaching me, and the Higher Angels have brought a charge of negligence against him. In tandem with that, I have been accused of interfering with mortality to the detriment of the timeline progression plan.” Alexander frowned.

  In tandem? This from someone who couldn’t grind coffee beans. Okay. “This Celion is your mentor, and not your father.”

  “No, my father is Duncan of Edinburgh.”

  “Duncan.” Zoë thought that was possibly the least angelic name she could think of. Except maybe Vince. Or Roger.

  “Yes. I was brought into this world by Duncan of Edinburgh and Aemilia of North Uist two hundred and seventeen years ago.”

  “You had parents?” Zoë hadn’t exactly paid the closest attention on Sunday morning. She’d much rather read a lurid romance than dig up the Bible she’d gotten from Grandma Jean in grade-school, but this wasn’t anything she’d heard before. “You’re telling me you were born?”

  Alexander grinned. “Close enough.”

  Zoë was tempted to ask about angelic procreation, but the time wasn’t right. She didn’t want it to sound like a proposition. She’d save it for later. “Right, so Thomas is your lawyer?”

  “Advocate, yes.”

  “And these Higher Angels are what?”

  “Hmm, think of them like the celestial civil service. And then some.”

  “And they’re saying you interfered with…something?”

  “Mortality. Humans, in other words. To the detriment of the timeline progression plan.”

  Someone has a plan? This is interesting news. “Timeline progression plan. Alexander, what did you do?”

  “Ronald was having a very bad day.”

  “Ronald. My postman?” She took a drink of her coffee and wrinkled her nose when she realized it had gotten cold. She made a disgruntled noise and put the mug down.

  “Two nights ago, that would be Monday, Ronald’s girlfriend learned he had been having a sexual relationship with another woman. This vexed her.”

  Vexed? Zoë held her mouth as straight as she could. “I can imagine.” Suddenly she was glad she’d never given Ronald her phone number and felt guilty for enjoying the way he’d asked for it on a near-daily basis.

  “I have never quite understood the complex relationships between human beings and their various sexual partners,” Alexander said.

  “Focus, Alexander,” Zoë said. “The timeline?”

  He sighed. “I discovered that Valerie, the girlfriend—”

  “Valerie the Vexed.” Zoë fought hard to keep back the giggles threatening to burst out.

  “Quite. She hired an ex-boyfriend to break Ronald’s legs on Tuesday. I should say she hired him on Saturday. The breaking was planned for Tuesday.”

  “That’s why you took his route? So he wouldn’t get hurt?”

  “I discovered that the ex-boyfriend, someone called Spider, wanted to be restored from the ex-boyfriend category, and therefore planned to remove Ronald from the timeline.”

  “You mean kill him?” Zoë couldn’t help it. She was shocked. Just because several of her friends were dead didn’t mean she liked the idea of any more of them becoming dead. She chided herself for the melodramatic thought. Ronald wasn’t a friend. He was the postman. But still, one couldn’t go around murdering postmen. “Of course you did the right thing.”

  Alexander looked forlorn. “I did not. He was supposed to die. It was his time.”

  “Says who?”

  “The Higher Angels. Not only that, Spider and Valerie were supposed to go to jail, and a witness to the crime should have met her future husband on jury duty. The list goes on.”

  “Ah, so you can’t go push him off a bridge now to make things right.” Zoë found it incredibly difficult to take this seriously, even though they were talking about someone she quite liked, and his untimely un-demise.

  Alexander looked horrified. “No. We do not do that.”

  “Uh huh. You don’t kill people, but you’re not supposed to protect them either?” She was getting annoyed. “So you’re a guardian angel then, I take it?”

  “An apprentice. Until yesterday, anyway.”

  “You got fired?”

  “Suspended, yes.”

  “Okay, so how can we get you your job back?”

  “I do not think we can. Thomas is going to try.”

  “This just happened two days ago. They sure don’t waste time on red tape, do they?” Zoë looked at Alexander and felt a mixture of things, but mostly proud. “It was a good thing you did, Alexander, no matter what anyone says. You can’t let thugs named things like Spider go
around killing perfectly good postmen. It isn’t right. And besides, what’s the point of being a guardian angel if you can’t actually do anything when it counts the most? I’m proud of you. It takes courage to do something you think is right even when you know it’s going to get you into trouble.”

  They paused for a moment in silence. It was a nice quiet, where they could sit and think without worrying about having to be clever or entertaining. Zoë felt happy, and then a thought occurred to her.

  “You aren’t my guardian angel, are you?”

  Alexander grinned. “I am nobody’s Guardian anymore, but no, you are Briony’s concern.”

  “Can I meet her?”

  Alexander shook his head. “I should not even have told you about her. I think I had better try to stay out of trouble for today, do you not agree?”

  Zoë nodded, though she couldn’t help but wonder what help this Briony had been in her life, and if she were going to get her legs broken or worse by some character named Spider, whether Briony would step in. She thought it unlikely, considering what Alexander had said about the rules concerning interfering with mortality. Although she’d never expected anyone to jump out and save her should the need arise, it made her sad to know there was someone who could, but wouldn’t.

  Now seemed the perfect time to change the subject. “I was talking to a friend,” Zoë said, “who told me I should find out what you wanted with me.”

  Alexander looked at Zoë curiously. “Unless you have told your living friends I am not human, I would assume this friend is among the departed.” He said the last three words as though he had wished there was a way to put them even more delicately, as though death was somehow offensive. In some ways it was, she supposed, as she considered the drama surrounding Ronald and Valerie the Vexed and the death that didn’t happen.

  Zoë nodded.

  “I would like to be your friend.” The intensity in his warm voice made Zoë’s temperature rise.

  She wasn’t offended by the use of the word “friend,” not when he said it that way. “There aren’t any rules about angels and humans, erm, spending time in one another’s company?” God, she thought, why am I talking like Scarlet O’Hara? Why can’t I say “screwing,” since that’s what I truly want to know?

  He shrugged. “We live in the same world.” As if that explained anything. Alexander stood. “Thomas wants us now. We should go.”

  “Sure.” Apprehension surged. Meeting Alexander was one thing, but she could always imagine he was one of a kind, a fluke, just someone a bit different, like her. Something inside told her she was about to wade into waters deeper than she’d ever swum before.

  Alexander offered her his hand. She took it and stood beside him. “Maybe I should ask what you want from me, Zoë Pendergraft.” He kissed her hand tenderly.

  A flash of flushing, throbbing, hormone-driven ideas flowed through her brain, and she caught her breath. At that moment, she wanted to taste his lips again and feel him press up against her. Unbidden, the memory of his naked body popped into her mind, and she blushed furiously. Why did that keep happening? It made her feel like a teenager. “I want…” She’d started to say she wanted to be his friend too, but it seemed cheesy, and she couldn’t bring herself to say it when the truth was much more.

  Alexander chuckled, and she wondered briefly if he could read her mind. He touched her cheek. “Do you know how different you are?”

  Zoë couldn’t stop staring into his sparkling green eyes. She shook her head slowly. Words wouldn’t come. “I’m nothing special,” she finally choked out.

  He leaned forward until he was so close she couldn’t focus her eyes. He whispered, “I believe the truth to be otherwise.” She closed her eyes, and then his lips touched hers. A tingling current went through her body, her nipples hardened and her groin tightened.

  She put her hands on his chest, ran them up and wrapped them around his neck, returning his kisses with deep intensity she was not accustomed to. Quite a few kisses had crossed her lips before, and they seemed pale and dead in comparison to the pure silky warmth that flooded her senses now.

  When his tongue touched hers, Zoë nearly cried out from pure delight. Her body responded with juicy, yet aching desire. It was the longest, fullest, most perfect kiss she’d ever received or given in her life.

  His hands rested lightly on her hips and she let her body slowly fall toward his. He was hard and solid, and as she leaned into him, she felt fragile, as though he could break her with a thought, but at the same time she had a sensation they were floating together, and gravity seemed to mean a whole lot less than it had a few moments before.

  Slipping one hand to the small of her back, Alexander embraced her with such tenderness that she couldn’t remember what it felt like to be afraid. Out of nowhere, a doubt appeared. These sensations were new. Never before had a man made her feel like this. Could it be a response to his angel nature? Could he be mesmerizing her? Her mind told her she needed to slow down, but her body didn’t agree.

  Finally, her mind won out, and she pulled back. Alexander didn’t let her go, and although she was shocked at first, she was grateful when she realized they had floated several inches off the ground. They descended together and she couldn’t help but smile wide. “Wow,” she said.

  He gave her another quick kiss before letting her go. “Very.” He paused as though listening. “We should go. Thomas does not like waiting.”

  Zoë considered saying something cheeky, like Thomas would have to wait, but she decided that as long as he was helping Alexander with this legal stuff, she’d best hold her attitude in check. “Right. Let me get my things.”

  Alexander seemed amused, but didn’t say anything more. “Shall we take your car? I like your car.”

  She beamed with pleasure. Loving her car was a sure way to her heart. “Okay.” Then as they came to the front door she said, “Hey, can’t you whoosh us there?”

  Alexander laughed, and she couldn’t help but go all gushy when she heard it. “I could whoosh, but it is probably better to keep a low profile where we are going.”

  “And where’s that?”

  “Civic Center Station.”

  The BART Station? Zoë nodded, but wondered why they couldn’t drive to Thomas’ office, because as politically incorrect as it was, she hated public transportation, particularly Bay Area Rapid Transit. She figured she was personally responsible for the ice caps melting. “No problem,” she said. “Hey, if it doesn’t take too long, I’d like to stop on the way back. There’s this antique store over in the Marina District that’s always worth a rummage.”

  She wasn’t sure what Alexander would think about antique stores, being technically an antique himself, although celestial beings wouldn’t fit into the same category as an old teapot. Then she reminded herself what he’d told her earlier: Alexander isn’t young and he isn’t old. He just is. That suited her fine. More people, she mused, should quit worrying and just be.

  Chapter 5

  They drove in a companionable silence. Alexander seemed to enjoy watching the people who milled around the streets, shopping, walking, waiting for buses. When she pulled her car into a parking lot near the Civic Center BART station, Zoë said, “Okay, why won’t you tell me where we’re going?” So much for serenity and not dwelling on the uncertainty of their destination, and more importantly, everything that would happen there.

  Alexander looked puzzled. “We are here.” They walked inside the station, but instead of going toward the platforms, he led her down a long corridor where the crushing crowd thinned. Up ahead, a blue wall blocked their way. Wall, perhaps, was overstating, but the only word that came to mind was ‘force field’, and she dismissed that obviously ridiculous concept. But then she noticed people walking right through it. She squinted. They glowed. Well, most of them. A few were plainly human. Zoë felt light-headed for a moment, but then told herself to pull it together. Okay. Force-field. Check.

  It took Zoë a second to realize
she’d quit walking. Alexander took her hand gently. “An invisible wall repels humans, but if you hold my hand, it makes it easier.”

  Invisible? She almost said it aloud, but decided to keep her trap shut. When you don’t know what to do, shut up and pay attention. That’s what Gran taught her. Thank you, Gran. Instead she nodded and took Alexander’s warm and muscular hand. Holding onto him bolstered her confidence.

  “Ready?” he asked, and when she nodded, they proceeded. She’d expected to tingle or sparkle when she passed through the barrier, but instead the desire to run the other direction melted away. Then…nothing. Just ordinariness again.

  Zoë didn’t want to stare like a tourist, but being surrounded by angels would make anyone gawk. What surprised her was that most of them wore business clothes. She hadn’t realized until that moment she’d hoped for long white robes and maybe, even though Alexander had told her they didn’t need them, a few pairs of white fluffy goose wings. Well, damn. Zoë thought if she could look like anything she wanted to, she’d have long, silky blond hair and full, pouty lips. And bigger boobs. And pretty feet. She grinned. Angels must all have pretty feet. Why would anyone have ordinary feet if they didn’t have to? She’d never understood foot fetishes, simply because feet were odd. And penises aren’t? Zoë snorted a laugh at the unbidden visual and then stopped herself short when she noticed Alexander watching her out of the corner of his eye.

  “Here we are,” he said and took her to an unmarked door. “Do not worry. It only seems weird the first time.” Considering her train of thought about penises, it was all Zoë could do to not make some crack like, “How many times have I heard that before?” Alexander opened the door, oblivious to her wandering mind, and for that she was grateful. She smiled at him when he stood aside to let her enter first.

  When she stepped through the door, a peculiar thing happened. Suddenly his comment didn’t seem funny anymore. What had looked like a plain, empty white room changed the second she walked through. They definitely weren’t in a BART station anymore.

  It took Zoë’s eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light in the bar. An angel bar? She didn’t know where to begin to process the place. And it didn’t look particularly angelic either. To her right was a long polished wood bar. Behind it hung a mirror that reflected several rows of bottles of varying sizes and colors. Patrons sat in groups of two and three at scattered wooden tables, listening to a piano player on a low stage.