

She Speaks to Angels

by A. Blackwelder

AngelFire Chronicles: Book 1

SHE SPEAKS TO ANGELS

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2012 by Ami Blackwelder
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Ami Blackwelder's books may be ordered through local book venues and online retailers or by contacting the author:

http://amiblackwelder.blogspot.com

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

Complete series:

1 – She Speaks to Angels

1.5 – Dumah's Demons

2 – Falling Angels

3 – Angel Codes

Published by Eloquent Enraptures Publishing

Edited by Eloquent Enraptures

Copy edited by Connie Webb, Ashley Egan

Proofreader: Ashley Egan

Cover art by Eloquent Enraptures

Beta-Readers: Candi Curtis, Anne Clark, Ao Bibliophile, Krysta Banco, Linda Bass, Denise Zaky, rdasilva, Leilani, Chaarmedone, Robin Daily
"I tried not to sound hysterical, but it's not every day you find out the paranormal is hunting you."

ONE WAS SENT TO PROTECT HER, AND ONE TO KILL HER

A Suicide

Seventeen-year-old Allison Maney attends Millennium High School in Manhattan. Nothing out of the ordinary, unless you consider the occasional suicides at the school. At least that is what everyone is told, what everyone believes. But Tommy Bachelor was a popular football player; why would he jump off the roof of the school?

Dangerous Liaisons

When Dameon pays attention to Ali, she couldn't be more excited, because for the past three months he was all she could think about. But now that Dameon is finally pining for her affections, she is becoming more and more wrapped up in a clique of three who, as new transfers to the school, are proving to be trouble. But at least Dameon loves her, doesn't he?

A Soul Purpose

The underworld of angels and demons have one thing on their mind: Earth. Demons want to do what they want. Angels want to protect humans from these rogue angels, AKA: Demons

A Suspenseful Romance

Caught between Dameon and Kian, the suicide and the clique of three, Ali doesn't know who to trust...or who to love, because for Allison Maney, everything is not exactly what it seems.
Dedicated to all the angels of the world.
Table of Contents

Rooftops

Ignorance

Sleepover

Family Ties

Back Alleys

Memorial

Feathers

Revelations

Closer

Decisions

Aftershock

Wings

Luminescence

Rooms

Assignments

Suspicions

Sunlight Kisses

Until Eight

Carnage

The Station

On Edge

Transitions

Jacob

Lucianda

Street Fights

Consequences

Exposure

The Lure

Last Stand

Aftermath

Discussion Questions:

From the Author
Rooftops

As the day began, I didn't know it would change my life forever. No one prepared me for some-thing like this. Not parents, teachers or guidance counselors. Walking through the front doors and down the hallway of Millennium High School in New York City, I thought today would be just like any other ordinary day. Long, boring and dreadful. Take your pick. I wasn't anyone popular. There was nothing special about me that made the guys drool.

I approached my locker, combination 17-75-7. Could it have any more sevens? Out of the corner of my eye I saw him skirting along the wall, more of just a vague silhouette really. Not enough to make out a name, face, or even what clique he belonged to, but enough to make my heart race. Seriously, I could hear my own heart pounding. I wasn't sure who I saw, but his presence sent a shiver rushing down my spine, and as the minutes ticked I grew closer and closer to finding out....

As I fidgeted by my open locker moments later, the mystery man spun past the corner and spun his lock combination: 15-40-31. I paid attention. Dameon. Raven black hair and equally stark eyes, arched brows as if he always had a mischievous appointment to attend. He probably did, as popular as he was. He wore a black leather jacket with a singular crimson red stripe that stretched from one sleeve, across his back and to the next sleeve, and black faded jeans. The only thing he altered was his shirt.

"Hi," I managed to squeeze out of my nervous body. Never sure of what he did to me, I realized that just being around him made me clam up and never know quite what to say. I'd had a crush on him ever since he arrived, at the beginning of my junior year. That was three months, three weeks and five days ago. Well, as soon as Friday ended it would be five days. It's not like I was obsessed, but he was hard not to notice. And anyway, his locker sat right next to mine. Of course I'd see him. And we had first period English together. He probably didn't even know I was in the same class.

"Hi." He grinned and placed his hand on my shoulder. OMG! He touched me! "Better get going. You don't want to be late for class."

He noticed me!

As he turned away from me with his Kindle in hand, and scrolling through his English textbook, he glided down the hall to Mrs. Engstrom's English classroom. Jennifer and Molly bounced up behind me in a semicircle. It was the early morning shark attack. That was how I thought of it anyway.

"What did he say to you?" Jennifer pushed, her legal-eagle style sometimes irritated me.

"Nothing."

"Come on, Ali! You can tell us! We've only been your friends since middle school!" Molly encouraged. Pale blue jeans ripped at the knees emphasized her artsy persona.

I leaned toward them, giving in. "Not much, just hi and that I'd better hurry up to class so I'm not late."

"He knows you have English with him," Jennifer said, as if she were presenting a final argument in an important case before the judge.

"I'm not invisible," I defended myself.

My two friends just stared at me. The school was comprised of girls who wore tight-fitting clothes from Hollister, Forever 21, Limited, Express. Cool, chic. Not me. My attire could be described in one word: baggy. Today my choice garb had been beige cargo pants, a cream blouse and black cardigan.

"You always go for that type of guy." Molly brushed back her dirty brown bob with one hand as she held paint brushes in the other. Art class next. She could have chosen any elective, but each year she chose art. There was even a smudge of blue paint across her chin. She must have worked on one of her projects at home before school.

"What kind of guy?" I focused my eyes.

"You know. The dark, mysterious, brooding type." Jennifer fixed her red curls into a knot on her head. Her hair had grown so long this year she didn't even need a hair tie. After Jennifer teased me, she raced off with Molly, shoulder to shoulder and I couldn't help but grin; we've been best friends for years. I couldn't imagine high school without my crew. As they disappeared around the corner, the bell rang. Damn. I was always late. I really needed to manage my time better.

Fumbling with my NOOK, my choice of eReader, I opened the closed door to English class. Mrs. Engstrom kept her eyes on me in that late-again fashion. I actually could feel those words emanate from her pores and penetrate my skull. Tripping on a television cable wire, I stumbled to the carpeted floor, dropping my NOOK and purse. Oh, God, please let no one be watching. Please let no one be watching this. I picked up my items hurriedly and then flung my body upward, propelling myself into an open seat. Damn; the whole class stared and a few giggles permeated the room. Awkward. Dameon sat in the back with his eyes locked on mine the whole time. No squeezing out of this embarrassment.

Plopping into the front row with a shake of my head, my graciously long dark hair wisps over my oval shaped face. Sea blue eyes begged me to cover them up; I didn't want to see any more. Kids stared, and faces that once held shape and names became a conglomeration of taunting flesh. I felt dizzy with the rush of adrenaline. Emotions pulled me in opposing directions. Fight or flee? Dameon kept staring from the back. I could make him out in my peripheral vision. God, his stare even looked sexy. Sliding down in my seat, I hoped to become invisible. But I didn't.

Mrs. Engstrom had called roll and shouted my name just to be sure I paid attention. "Allison Maney?"As if she didn't see the circus act I performed in front of the class.

"Here," a defeated whisper escaped my pink-hued lips. I only used lipstick because my lips tended to chap. Molly used to tease me about my preference for wearing little make-up. Her mom, being a free spirit, allowed her to wear make-up since sixth grade. Molly said I must be the only girl in the city without it, so I added lipstick to my daily morning regime. But in truth, I didn't need much make-up. I was one of those blessed girls without blemishes, pimples, or uneven-toned skin. Yes, one of those girls. But I quickly remedied my natural beauty with the oversized garb. My attire choices made Jennifer roll her eyes every day at lunch. She wanted to be a cheerleader; one of those "it" girls, smart and sassy. But she never made the squad.

Sliding the NOOK across my desk, my fingers clasped the delicate touch-screen and I flipped to the required English reading assignment.

"Allison, could you read paragraph one?" Mrs. Engstrom asked, but her request sounded more like a command from the captain of a sinking ship. She had lost everyone's interest months ago.

"It's Ali." I arched my left brow like a dog about to bark. She returned a quizzical look. "My name is Ali. I've only told you this since school started." The second sentence rolled out under my breath. The teacher looked like she might explode any minute as she took in a deep breath, as if fumes might just blow out of her nose. I sighed as I glanced back down at my eReader.

I guess her patience ran thin six months into school. Homework to grade. Mischievous students to send to the principal's office. And then there was the fact that she hardly ever had anyone's attention. She appeared surprised when I flipped my NOOK to the page that corresponded to the one on the whiteboard.

"Just read, please," Mrs. Engstrom replied.

I nodded.

When the dreadful paragraph ended, the room felt suspiciously quiet. Not a peep. No one ever listened in this class. Was I really that interesting? I tilted my flushing face around in Dameon's direction just as his side of the class stood up from their seats and watched out the adjacent side window. With eyes mesmerized, the other side of the class jumped to their feet with jarred expressions as two jocks took off like they ran a marathon over a few desks to get closer to the window. I made out a blur of something dropping past the window to the ground, but it all happened so fast I couldn't be sure what I saw.

"Tommy?" the quarterback shouted in question, and then I heard a loud thud. His nose pressed up against the glass. "Tommy Bachelor?" The dread in his voice shot through my veins and brought back the day Mom told me about Dad's fatal heart attack. I had just turned sixteen and was supposed to have a sweet sixteen party. Dad made the arrangements for a limo to drive my friends and me to the local dance club. I had gone to the hospital instead and cried all night.

What the hell just happened?

I leapt from my chair and darted toward the window to stand behind the broad-shouldered linebacker just as Mrs. Engstrom, at a remarkable sixty years old, managed to squeeze between the two large athletes.

"I saw him fall!" a student in the back shouted, his forefinger pointing to the window.

"Is he dead?" a female voice questioned from somewhere in the middle.

"Couldn't be!" The linebacker nudged the quarterback. "Could it?"

"Someone do something!" A shriek sounded from behind me.

As all these questions and statements circled, my eyes focused on a lump on the school ground. Crimson color washed around him as he lay face-down. I couldn't be sure if it was him, but the body wore a green turtleneck, and I had seen Tommy in something similar before heading to my locker this morning.

Buttons on phones clicked, texting. Someone finally called the front office as Mrs. Engstrom panicked. Maybe it was the female student from the middle of the room.

"This is Mrs. Engstrom's class...we just saw someone fall from the rooftop. YES! He is there now on the ground outside!" The shrieking voice shot goose bumps up and down my arms.

Mrs. Engstrom drew away from the window and appeared to be in shock.

"Never in thirty years of teaching." She shook her head as if she just couldn't believe what she saw. But I had my doubts. I heard the rumors...the rumors of students jumping from the rooftop of the school years before I attended. Mrs. Engstrom had only started teaching at Millennium High several years ago. She wouldn't know that the school, the city, had its fair share of suicides and suspicious deaths. Wherever she had taught for the past twenty-seven years must have been fairly tame compared to this.

A tap on my shoulder from behind spun me around on the ball of my foot, and my dazed eyes met his. Dark as night, his eyes searched my face for expression. What he searched for I couldn't be sure, but I felt pulled to him like a magnet.

"Are you alright?" Dameon asked, his thick brows arched over his thinly black-penciled inner eyelids. If not for the obvious tweezing at the center, his two brows could easily be mistaken for a unibrow. He reminded me of a referee controlling a game, making sure every player was fine, not rattled.

"I...I..." I didn't know what I felt. I didn't know Tommy that well. He played with the football team. Not a star, but a good player. But rumors circulated that he didn't have his mind on the game anymore, that he was distracted. He and I never bonded over the course of my two and half years at Millennium High. In fact, I would bet he didn't even know I existed. I only knew of him because Jennifer dragged me to the football games and she kind of had an unspoken crush on him. I'm sure he didn't know she existed either, but that never stopped her.

Shivers rushed through my bones like cold water hitting me as I realized that was the second time Dameon had touched me. I stayed in that moment for a minute longer before returning to the classroom. A mixture of shock and adrenaline. I didn't know if I should feel guilty for feeling anything other than dread in that moment, but I had waited for three months to connect with Dameon, and took what I could get.

"He seemed unstable." Dameon whispered behind me, and his unchecked comment jerked the quarterback around with an intense twist of his lips and nose. The sight made me step back.

"What did you say?" As the red football jacket moved closer and closer, I felt Dameon step in front of me. His black leather red-striped jacket became my world. I couldn't see either of their faces, could only hear their heated words, but I did see Dameon shrug with his first retort.

"Unstable," Dameon repeated. Not mean spirited, not even in rebuttal. Just as a stated, unattached fact.

"You didn't even know him!" The quarterback inched closer and his stitched name over the right pocket came into view: Clark. "You've been here...what a couple months? You don't know what you're talking about, kid!" Clark clasped both hands on Dameon's shoulders and pushed him; but Dameon, whose stature matched Clark's in height and width, didn't react. Dameon just let Clark push him, though I thought I heard a distinct hiss. From where I stood I couldn't be completely sure.

I stumbled backward during the feud, trying to get out of Dameon's way, and stepped on Mrs. Engstrom's toes.

"Now, boys," she wobbled between the two of them. "This is no time for arguing. We have a death to deal with." Her voice grew scratchy as she waved her hands. "Sit, sit. Everyone return to your seats. I'm sure Principal Patty will address this matter over the intercom shortly. Until then, S-I-T." The eyes over her beet-red face met with Clark's, and the quarterback retreated from the window with the linebacker at his side.

I felt panicked and my body shook. Curiosity spun my mind in circles and then to my Journalism class. I whispered aloud without even realizing what I'd said. "This would make a great newspaper story."

Dameon turned, his owl-eyes catching me and his hand slapping me on my back. "Come on." As he plodded to his chair, the array of stunned, aggravated, grieving students hit their seats and his hand broke away from me, allowing me to return to my desk. I wondered why Dameon paid me such attention. I guess death and shock did that to people? Chatter permeated the room.

I couldn't believe what just happened. No one could. Another suicide to add to the growing list of suicides at this school, and though there had been prior deaths, I had never actually witnessed one myself. I typed into my cell as fast as I could. Thoughts escaped my mind quicker than my fingers could push the miniature buttons. My first text went out to Jennifer and then to Molly. Jennifer had to hear from me first. This news would crush her and she would need me to be strong.

Jennifer,

Did u hear? Tommy Bachelor fell from the rooftop and landed on the ground outside English class. OMG! We're all stunned! I'm so sorry. Here for u if u need me.

Ali

As I watched out the window from my desk, a ray of sunlight danced over the sparkling glass and a crowd of administrators surrounded the body. Principal Patty's voice sounded over the intercom. "Because of an emergency regarding a student, we will be dismissing the students for the day and canceling classes for the rest of the week. Guidance counselors will be on hand when students return, if needed." Sirens sounded in the distance and came closer with each sec-ond. Police surrounded the body as my NOOK slowly faded to black.
Ignorance

"Ignorance is bliss," Molly replied at the park picnic park table. "Better if we don't push our nos-es into someone else's business."

I fidgeted with my galoshes until I finally curled one leg under the other. "Tommy died for a reason. Doesn't that bother you?" A gust of wind blew past me, tousling my hair.

"How would we ever know the reasons? We can't read his mind," Molly retorted as she fixed her favorite avocado-colored scarf, which draped on her neck and accented the green in her irises. A scarf her mom knitted for her when they couldn't afford a heater in the house.

Sniffling, Jennifer desperately wanted to join the conversation, but couldn't speak without shaking and bawling. She tended to her wool mittens instead. Red-eyed and disheveled, she reminded me of an old rag doll. Dressed in heavy beige coats, knit hats and boots, the three of us stayed relatively warm in the 30-degree weather. We were well acclimated, since we were all born and raised in New City.

"There has to be something we can find. He was popular, for heaven's sake," I insisted as Molly stared at me incredulously. "Girls loved him. Teachers adored him. Doesn't make any sense." I shook my head.

"Why? His best friends don't even know why. Why does anyone do it?" Molly plopped her hand down on the picnic table, the hand holding the fanning paint brush. Dabbing her ocean blue canvas with specs of white, she created a snowy effect. "Maybe he just couldn't take the pressure of being popular anymore." When she rolled her eyes, I knew what Molly was thinking. She didn't like the so-called jocks. Suicide or not, she didn't want to give them any more of her time. But I didn't want to let it go, couldn't let it go. Something about it nagged me.

"Because...people just don't go killing themselves for no good reason."

"If you care so much, maybe you should write something up for the school paper." Molly tilted her head to me, and I lit up like a neon light. "You know...like one of those in-memory pieces."

I had thought of it before. I could satiate my persistent curiosity and complete an assignment all in one. Every writer needed a muse, and Tommy would be mine. A muse from the grave.

"We could work on it together...like Bonnie and Clyde." I grinned as a snowflake dropped from the pines above and lit on my long lashes.

Tightening the hug-grip around her chest, Jennifer sniffed one last time before raising her gaze.

"Wait, wait, wait...first of all Clyde was a guy," Molly interjected, "and I'm not going to be the guy in this scenario. More like Rizzoli and Isles. And second, I am n-o-t going to be a part of this."

"Why not? Could be intriguing. Today is Wednesday and we don't have to be back at school until Monday. What else are we going to do?" I rationalized.

"I'll do it." Jennifer interrupted, the sound of her voice almost foreign at this point in the conversation. We both jerked our heads in her direction. Wiping her nose with the back of her coat sleeve she held a sneeze and repeated more firmly. "I'll do it." Her big brown eyes widened as her lips tensed.

"You will? Why?" Molly cocked a brow and spun her body around on the bench to face Jennifer better. Her fingers inched across the table and found Jennifer's mittened hands. "You don't have to do this just because..." she didn't want to say it aloud, but Molly had a way about her. Truth, whether crass or not, always popped out of her uncontrolled mouth. "... You liked him."

Blushing, Jennifer tilted back and the freckles on her cheeks almost faded away. "I am going to do this because Ali is right. Tommy was not the sort to commit suicide. He had everything going for him. With his death this makes..." she paused in thought counting on her fingers, recollecting the names listed in the morning paper, "five deaths from Millennium High in seven years!"

"Don't forget Emily," I reminded them, and they each wrinkled their foreheads in confusion. "The girl who was found dead in Central Park. She went to the school too...and just because she didn't die on school grounds doesn't make her death any less odd."

"Something is going on at this school, and I'll be damned if I'm just going to sit and do nothing." Jennifer got her mojo back, a newfound task of investigation motivating her out of her misery.

"Well damn, if you two are going to go at this then..." Molly raked her fingers through her shoulder length cut and sighed, "I might as well do it too."

Jennifer and I both turned at the same time and grinned.

"What else am I going to do until Monday without the two of you?" Molly reasoned.

"It's settled then. We are officially the unofficial team investigating this suicide," I added as another gust of wind brushed through the park, over Molly and Jennifer.

"Don't get too excited." Molly pushed herself off the bench, brushed her hands against her jeans and stood beside me. "I'm only doing this to avoid being appallingly bored."

I stood with one hand still on the picnic table. "Good enough reason for me."

"Where do we start?" Jennifer tied her red locks into a bun and then returned the knit hat to her head. A few loose strands escaped as color returned to her face. She began to look more alive and less like a rag doll or the living dead.

Looking over my shoulder, I stared at the school in the distance and pointed. "There."

"Are you kidding me?" Molly gawked. "The school is locked up. We will be breaking and entering." Turning her head to Jennifer she finished, "Surely you can understand the insanity of this proposal," she stared at the girl-in-mourning. "Your father is a lawyer. What kind of time can we serve for this crime?" she asked with sarcasm in her tone.

"We are not going to get caught." I encouraged them. "Besides, this is our only lead."

"Lead?" Molly scuffed with hands to hips. "What do you plan on finding at the school anyway?"

"Tommy's locker." I planted my feet firmly on the dried leaves and the two stood silently as strange wisps of fog swirled past our ankles; a thick and silvery-grey kind of mist. Tucking her paint brush and canvas into her satchel, Molly shoved the knapsack over her shoulder as Jennifer led us to her sedan parked at the curb. The only one of us with a car, she came in handy.

Keeping the speed limit, she drove for five minutes and then headed into the lot across the street from Millennium High. With the parking lot vacant of cars, her red sedan stood out like a sore thumb, but we either drove or we walked for twenty minutes, and Jennifer wanted to make sure we had a quick get-away vehicle. Across the street we saw an arrangement of police officers circling outside the English classroom. The room was located toward the front of the building a few rooms down from the main office. Police cars were parked in the office parking lot, and I kept my eye on one cop in particular, Samuel Maney.

"Hey, isn't that your older brother over there?" Jennifer pointed. Slapping her hand back down to her jeans, I responded harshly.

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock."

"How are we going to avoid all these cops?" Molly shook her head and uttered a sigh as her mind whirled in search of a solution. With a roll of her eyes, she turned to us.

"We'll hop the fence at the far left. The office hangs more to the right anyway." Molly sure had a way with breaking and entering! Sneaking over the wire fence, Molly insisted on going last. If the police saw someone coming in she didn't want that someone to be her.

"Are you going or what?" Jennifer pushed my bum from underneath with a squat in good cheerleader form as my galoshes poked through the holes in the chain linked fence. Staring at the school's chained doors ahead, I remembered a back entrance, one I had seen a janitor use months ago.

"Going, going." With one more big push I leapt over the fence and landed squarely on the other side. Although I had long legs, my incessant clumsiness demanded her assistance. "Okay, your turn." I watched Molly strain with bent legs to hold Jennifer.

"Wait! How are you going to get over the fence?" Jennifer craned her neck back and squinted eyes at Molly. "You should go first. I don't need as much help. I'm taller and have cheerleading tryout experience."

"Whatever." Molly rolled her eyes and dropped her hands, dusting them against one another as Jennifer's boots hit ground.

"Okay, get up." Jennifer put her hands together and formed a tight net for Molly's feet. One foot at a time, Molly crawled up the fence and jumped over to join me. Jennifer reminded us both of Spiderman on acid trying to cross the fence. Her performance made us laugh.

"This way." I waved for my clandestine team of two to move forward. They surprisingly followed without question. Skirting around the corner of the building, I could see in the distance and for just a second the chalk outline of Tommy's body near the English classroom before the police surrounded him again. I breathed heavily and then we headed to the back door.

"What are we doing here?" Molly complained. For a budding artist she complained and worried a lot.

"This was a stupid idea." Jennifer shook her head. "Why did I agree to this again?"

"I know the janitor. He will be cleaning all week." I knocked with a loud thud several times and chewed my gum.

"You know the janitor?" Molly's brows stretched into one fine line. "What does that mean? Are you two like on a name-to-name basis or something?" Her lips puckered as she tried to hold in a laugh. "Do you two share private time together?" Her giggle escaped, and Jennifer joined in on the joke which came at my expense.

Jerking my head around I retorted, "No, we don't hang out. I helped him out several months back. He owes me one."

"Helped him out with what?" Jennifer's head shot between Molly and me.

"I saw him studying an English grammar book once at lunch time. I volunteered to help him learn the rules." I said nonchalantly.

Molly jumped when she realized who it was. I felt the jolt on my back. "You're talking about that Mexican guy, aren't you?"

"Alberto." I said firmly. "His name is Alberto."

After I knocked several more times, an older man with graying, receding hair and wrinkling skin swung opened the door. In the dark blue uniform, he pushed his yellow bucket-with-mop to the left. A red tool box sat to his right, and his expression showed his recognition.

Holding the door with one hand, I spoke. "Thank you, Alberto."

"What you doing here? School closed." He sounded unnerved.

"Yes, yes it is. But I need a favor. You know, favor? Like when I helped you with the English grammar."

"Yes, yes...grammar," he nodded with a relinquishing smile. "What you need?"

"We need to come inside."

"Why?" His attractive accent made his questioning all the more palatable.

"We..." I fumbled and Molly jumped in.

"We forgot our reading assignments, and we have a big test Monday. We can't fail or we might not graduate."

"Ah." Alberto rubbed his forehead with his hand. "Fail." Shaking his head, he waved us in. "Cannot fail."

"Thank you, Alberto," I said sincerely before stepping past him into the hallway.

"Yes, thank you." Molly smiled while Jennifer ducked in quietly.

Loosening the buttons on our coats, we headed to Tommy's locker. He was a junior like me, so we shared sections, but since his last name began with a B and mine an M, our lockers were on different rows.

"This way." Molly's steps revealed more fervor the closer she came to the B lockers.

"I've seen him here many times," Jennifer confirmed in front of the second locker from the end.

"How do we get in?" I worried for the first time, unsure if my investigational plans had unraveled already.

"Leave it to me." Molly winked and began her magic. I knew I didn't bring her along for nothing. Spinning the lock, we watched the notch pass number after number while Molly leaned her head closer to the numbered wheel. Listening, she stopped the spin.

"You can hear the clicks?" Jennifer gasped and drew close to her.

"No," Molly pulled a screwdriver from her back pocket. "I'm going to bust it." As she squeezed the screwdriver underneath the locker door open, Jennifer and I turned to each other for a quiet laugh.

"Where the heck did you get that?" Jennifer questioned as her fingers reached to touch the tool.

"When Alberto was busy with you." She looked at me and winked again.

"You know, for a girl who worries so much, you sure are full of surprises." I added.

"You have no idea."

Leaning into Molly, Jennifer watched as if she had never seen the act of vandalism and destruction before tonight. Best of friends, the three of us really could not have been more different. But maybe our differences are what have kept us friends all these years.

CLANG-BANG-GLONK. The locker door swung open, and Molly slid the stolen tool back into her jean pocket with a satisfied grin.

"Let's hurry up before Alberto catches onto us," Molly warned and stood at the end of the aisle like a guard dog. Unlike Jennifer, Molly's smarts didn't revolve around books. Street smarts had kept her strong all these years. Who could blame her? With gypsies for parents, she was lucky to have stayed in one place for the past four-and-a-half years. Technically, I knew Jennifer a year before meeting Molly, because Molly came to middle school at the start of seventh grade. But we always said we all knew each other since middle school; no one but us needed to know the technicalities.

"What are we searching for?" Jennifer rummaged through the locker like she was on her last bottle of pain-killers. A notepad dropped to the floor, and I knelt to pick it up.

"I don't know just yet. Something, anything, to let us inside his mind."

Flipping through the notepad, I saw sketches of wings and the sun, bright light and dark shadows, followed by some blank pages. Toward the end of the notepad more detailed sketches revealed faces. Not so much detail that I could make out anything specific, but enough that I felt like I had seen the images before. But where?

"What did you find?" I nudged Jennifer in the shoulder.

"Not much yet." We both eyed a shiny square device stuffed in between a thick book and a set of folders. As both of our hands hit the device at the same time, Jennifer released her grip. "Go ahead."

Yanking the Kindle out of his locker, I touched the screen to turn it on and watched a set of marked books flash before my eyes. Dictionary of Angels. Angelology. The History of Angels. The Dark and the Light: A Contemporary Expose of Angels.

"What do you think this means?" I tucked the Kindle under Jennifer's chin. "Why would he be so obsessed with...angels?"

"I don't know..." Molly turned toward us. "But Alberto is heading this way and so we'd better wrap this illegal activity up." She had a way with words. It wasn't so much the words as it was the way she used them, as if everything that came from her mouth carried the same weight. — I'm so hungry. My dog just died. I want to see that movie. Worrywart or not, her street skills and perspective sure came in handy.

"Grab the folder," I urged Jennifer as I shut the locker. I had the Kindle and notepad in my back pockets, and Jennifer carried the folder of papers. We met behind Molly and marched up the hallway like a strict platoon of soldiers.

"Got it, Alberto! Thank you, sir!" Molly bobbed up and down as she walked, offering the janitor her gratitude. We each gave a courteous smile in passing.

"Now we even." Alberto nodded to me and I sighed. Damn, I could have really used anoth-er favor. But we got more than I thought we would, and this information would definitely keep the three of us busy for a day or two.
Sleepover

I TURNED THE VOLUME up on my stereo. My favorite song played, and I didn't want to have to listen to Mom and Samuel arguing again. Italian families could be rough that way. We each had our own strong-willed opinions. I'm sure the disagreement went something like this:

Mom: "I don't want you working so hard. It's dangerous."

Samuel: "It's my job, Mom."

Mom: "Don't you remember what happened to your father?"

Samuel: "How could I not remember?"

Mom: "Well, you sure don't act like it. His heart went...just like that!" Smack of hands. "Do you want to leave me too?"

Then tears. Always tears.

Samuel: "I'm sorry, Mom."

Hugs.

Samuel: "But I can't just quit the force."

This is how the emotionally-heated conversations usually occurred. But this time I didn't need any more details. Not yet anyway. I would pick Samuel's brain later. Right now, I wanted to go over everything we had found with Molly and Jennifer.

"Hey Jen, hand me that ebook The Dark and the Light." I sat crossed-legged on my twin-sized bed while Jennifer plodded over to me with Kindle in hand. Papers from Tommy's folder covered the carpet from my bed to the dresser. The notepad sat on top of my NOOK on the nightstand. We wanted to cover all bases.

"The book is boring." With a flick of her shoulder, Jennifer added, "I don't think we'll find anything in there. Why would a football player care about this stuff anyway?"

"I don't know, but this page looks interesting." My eyes widened and called for Molly's and Jennifer's undivided attention. Molly peeked over my left shoulder as she slid on top of the sheets with me. Jennifer watched as she leaned on the right arm of the bed.

"What?" Jennifer asked.

"Here." I pointed to the luminescent image of an angel basking under the reflective moonlight by a lake.

"So?" Jennifer shrugged.

"So, look closer." I emphasized the shape, tracing it with my pinky. "Don't you remember?" Stretching for the notepad on top of my NOOK, I opened the notepad to a corresponding page.

"The same picture from Tommy's notepad." Molly cleared up the confusion on Jennifer's face.

"So? He probably liked that picture or something. He was obsessed with that particular angel form, big deal."

Deep jaded black wings decorated the angel-boy. A youthful glow assured that he was no older than eighteen. Coal black hair fell over his ethereal oval face in sharp edges, framing stone-black pupils. He appeared so serene, so regal. And something about him was so...familiar.

"Maybe he was gay....and into the angel look?" Molly raised her brows while Jennifer winced and defended him.

"No, he wasn't. He flirted with girls all the time."

"Flirted, but did he date any?" Molly's cheeks tightened so that they each had a hollow carved into their centers.

"No way." Jennifer squinted and rubbed her nose. She almost sniffled again.

"Guys, would you stop!" I waved my hands in front of each of their faces before this escalated into something unrecoverable. "He wasn't gay!"

"How do you know?" Molly implored. "I mean we never really know anyone, do we?"

"I know because...because I caught him making out under the bleachers with Noe Young."

"Noe! The quarterback's girlfriend?" Jennifer could not have been louder.

"Yes, that Noe."

"Did he see you?" Molly drew close to me, so close I could feel her breath on my neck.

Staring at the sky blue bed sheets I answered, "Yeah."

"What did you do?" Jennifer threw her red locks behind her ears as her leg squeezed in next to me.

"I hightailed my ass out of there...but not before Tommy stopped me at the gym door and insisted I tell no one. So I never did."

"What a good friend." Molly rolled her chocolate eyes.

"Hardly. He never spoke to me before that day or since," I responded.

"I guess now he never will," Jennifer added.

"Guess not."

"Well, maybe he still can." Molly pulled up the Kindle. "Talk to you I mean. After all, we have all his last notes."

"Yes, we do," I agreed. I marked the place in the book with my finger. "So...if he wasn't gay, then he was obsessed with angels for another reason," I corrected them.

"Like..." Molly searched the recesses of her mind, "a school assignment." She eye-balled me with a smirk. She took hits at me anytime she could. I couldn't blame her; this investigation was an easy target for jokes.

"He draws this particular angel over and over again in his notepad. That must mean something." I mulled over the pages. "Why not this angel? Or that one?" I point to various pictures in the book.

"Maybe he liked his fashion sense?" Jennifer gave up finding any real reason and swung back on my bed.

Shaking my head I felt determined to find an answer, "Remember a month ago he started flaking out and not showing up at games."

"Yeah," the two said in unison.

"Well, something must have happened to him then...something that really shook him up," I added.

"Let's double check that theory." Molly flicked on the Kindle and scanned up and down with her finger pressed on the screen. "All his angel books show a check-out date from the library. They are almost due." She swung the Kindle around to show us just as the screen faded to gray.

"Perhaps we will find more info on this device." Molly suggested.

Molly and I stared at the Kindle in a way that must have scared Jennifer, because her mouth fell agape at our crazed expression. But we couldn't help how we looked, because what we saw in the reflection of the Kindle scared us too. We could make out the reflection of the bedroom on the edges of the Kindle screen and a bit of the house roof on the bottom of the screen. Then splat dead-and-center we, or maybe just I, saw the outline of what appeared distinctly to be some kind of winged creature.

We flung ourselves around, our eyes fixed on my bedroom window. Chills rushed down my arms and spine.

"Did you see that, Mol?" I nudged her shoulder. "Did only I see that?" I felt paralyzed in fear.

Almost in a stutter Molly responded. "No...no I saw it too. Something large.... Something with wings... Eerie." She closed her eyes as the goose bumps passed over her cream colored skin. The two of us jumped up from the bed and headed to the window. As we pressed our faces against the cold glass, I cracked the frame open an inch. A gust of cool air whisked in and over us. Our eyes searched the ground two stories below and in the trees. Nothing.

"I didn't see anything." Jennifer looked at us with an incredulous expression as she padded toward the window for her own examination. "Sure you two didn't smoke something before I got here?" She didn't really want us to answer.

"I saw something. I know it. I felt it." I rubbed my palms over my bare arms and pulled my robe from the hook on the wall. Flinging on my cotton warmth I felt a tinge better, but a bit violated like...like someone was watching me. Maybe I was just being paranoid?

"Why didn't I see it, then?" Jennifer voiced her doubts, twisting her face.. "I mean...of us three I would not be the one to miss something obvious. After all my father is a lawyer."

"Maybe because you were too busy looking at us to notice anything in the window?" I crossed my arms over my chest. "I know what I saw." Brows arched.

"What does that mean anyway, because your father is a lawyer? What does that have to do with anything?" Molly sounded hard.

"Well, I've been trained to notice details. So, the obvious should come fairly easy." Jennifer defended with freckles blending into the color of her reddening hot face.

"Obviously not. "Molly rolled her eyes and then darted them to the window.

"Okay." Jennifer ignored the words-of-war and sat on the bed again, unconvinced.

Tightening the lock on my window, I shut the burgundy curtain.

"Maybe we have all been staring at all this angel paraphernalia for far too long," Jennifer suggested, as if that must be the only reason why Molly and I saw something. But that just made Molly angry. Her face turned tomato red just like Jennifer's hair. Molly hated not being taken seriously. She had a hard enough time being accepted in high school because of her parent's gypsy ways. I had never seen Molly so agitated and I had seen her heated quite a few times.

"So you are just going to give up? That's it?" Molly flung her arms in the air and turned from Jennifer. "We get close to figuring something out and then you are too spooked to hang in there? I thought you were supposed to be the level headed girl in this town, Jen!" "Chill out, Mol." I tilted my head in her direction as she stood between the window and the bed. Then I plopped on the bed beside Jennifer. After all, Jennifer just wanted to shut up all this angel talk to get things back to normal. I couldn't blame her. "Mol didn't mean it."

"Then how do you mean it? I want to know what happened too. I have more of a reason to know than any of you." We all knew she referred to her crush. "More personal reasons than just some...some journalism assignment. But not if it is going to get us all out of hand."

"Alright," Molly took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for snapping, but can we please just get back to our assignment?" Molly said with a mixture of surprise and defense.

"Okay." Jennifer caved; she saw the desire to solve this in my eyes too.

"So, we know he checked out these angel books a month ago..." Molly brought us back on track.

I interjected, "And he started acting odd about a month ago."

"What do you mean by odd? Clarify." Oh, God! Jen's lawyer streak burst through.

"Skipping class regularly...without his football buddies." I stated.

Molly fixed the buttons on her pajamas as she added, "Spacing out in class. I have him third period...Had him third period."

"And his nose was buried in his Kindle the past few weeks, even at lunch and in the hallway," I remarked.

Molly's angry face softened as she saw Jennifer taking her more seriously. Joining us on the bed, Jennifer suggested, "It's like everything changed for him a month ago."

"Yeah, everything." I dropped my gaze to the Angelology book. "Like his whole world turned on its axis." Circling thoughts competed for space in my mind as my gaze jumped from the window to the books, from the Kindle to the notepad. Could it be? I shook my head.

"Maybe Clark found out," Jennifer suggested and Molly wrinkled her forehead. "About Noe and Tommy. You've heard rumors about his temper too."

"You really think Clark could push his nearly-best-friend off the roof of the school?" Molly considered the accusation for a minute and then it seemed she believed it could be so. She had seen worse on the streets of NY.

"How would they get up there anyway?" I interjected on deaf ears. They had lost themselves in scenarios of Clark and Tommy.

"Clark invites Tommy to the roof for some kind of football prank and then..." Molly felt a strange ease in this grotesque conversation. "Splat." She smacked her hands together.

"Do you have to be so melodramatic?" Jennifer's dart-like gaze struck Molly. "Clark probably just lightly pushed him, maybe an accident or something?"

"Or his temper got the better of him," Molly argued. She'd make a good lawyer, too. A different kind of lawyer than the one Jennifer would make. She wasn't refined or professional-appearing, but something in her raw discussion of things made it impossible to take my eyes off her when she spoke.

I just sat there, silent.

Jennifer and Molly looked me up and down, waiting for a response. Something, anything...to say they were crazy or right.

"What?" Molly read me well. "You're thinking something, what?"

"Nothing. It's stupid."

"No, really, tell us. It can't be any more stupid than..." she couldn't think of anything, "than...well never mind. Just tell us."

Inching closer to them, I spoke almost in a whisper, as if I said a bad word for the first time or had to keep a secret from Mom. "Maybe he saw something, something that made him scared."

"You mean like an angel." Molly said what we all knew I was thinking.

"I don't know...maybe?"

Jennifer looked like she could burst out laughing at any time, but tried to hold it in.

"Could be," Molly interjected, "I've seen a lot on the streets...I mean, with my gypsy parents and all that. Plenty of devils. Plenty of the unexplained. Why not angels?"

Jennifer would be hard to convince with her lawyer persona to uphold. "Sometimes shadows can make you think you see things." She explained, like a scientist rationalizing the supernatural.

"Sometimes we can never be sure what we see. I agree to that." Molly tucked herself under the covers and nestled her head on one of my pillows.

"How are we all going to fit in here?" I questioned with a doubtful tone.

Jennifer squeezed beside me, tossing any loose papers to the floor with the rest and throwing the covers over her body. When Molly returned the Kindle to the nightstand beside my NOOK, I curled up the notepad and stuffed it under my pillow.

"We made room all through middle school." Molly pressed her head in our direction. "We can make room now."

I smiled, knowing fully well that Molly didn't actually share a bed with us in 6th grade, and since our freshman year of high school she usually slept on a blow-up mattress on the floor. But maybe she believed we saw something in the window more than she let on.

"It's gotta be Clark," Molly professed before closing her eyes. "We should find out what happened between them one month ago."

In the morning I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and yawned. I wanted to sleep in, and since we had no school the rest of the week, I felt I had every right to, but the curiosity over everything we had discovered the prior night nagged me.

Slipping over Jennifer who still slept tucked under my covers, I plopped onto the floor. In a panic I realized I didn't see any of Tommy's papers on the floor where Jennifer had dropped them. My mind awoke immediately as if I had had a pot of coffee. I scoured the bedroom floor like a soldier using a toothbrush for cleaning. Empty. Adrenaline allowed me to leap over the carpet to the nightstand. The Kindle, gone!

"Everything is missing!" I shouted, and Molly's head jerked up from the pillow, her bob bouncing about and her eyes in-and-out of focus.

"What?"

"The ebooks on the Kindle, the papers! They are all gone!" I threw my arms up in the air like my Italian mother in argument. Then, I slipped my fingers under my pillow to find that at least the notepad still remained.

Propping herself up, Jennifer looked beside the bed and saw that there really was nothing there. "What happened to everything?" She jumped to her feet.

Then a breeze blew through the window which now stood slightly ajar. A creak echoed through my ears as the wood window frame swung back to the wall and the curtain above billowed.

All eyes turned to the window and remained frozen there.
Family Ties

Molly and Jennifer had a quick breakfast before heading out. Mom wanted to spend some quali-ty time with me and I wanted to pick my brother's brain. I think my friends had had enough of my room anyway.

"Before I start feeling claustrophobic, I'm going to the mall. Meet you later?" Jennifer waved goodbye and jumped into her sedan. I stood with Molly for a few minutes more in the driveway.

"Don't do anything stupid...at least not without us." The glint in her eyes told me that, despite her complaints, she loved trouble.

"I won't. Promise." With a warm hug Molly departed. I loosened my coat as I entered the house.

"Your friends gone?" Mom asked from the kitchen, where she was baking.

"Yeah, Mom." I shouted in return.

"Sit with me then." I followed the sound of her voice as she moved from the kitchen to the living room. I looked at her as she stood there. Both her head and her body were rather rounded, but her brunette hair was pulled into a tight bun on the top of her head, adding a couple of inches to her height. Her sky-blue eyes met mine, eyes that reminded me of myself.

I plopped down in the rocking chair adjacent to the sofa where Mom sat and rested my hands on the wooden chair arms, curling my toes under, pushing myself back and forth.

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked. Mom had that look, the one that said this would be a long conversation.

When her lean fingers extended to mine, I knew this would be a serious talk. "I just wanted to make sure you were Okay. You know, since Tommy's suicide. If there is anything you want to talk to me about, any feelings about this, I am here for you."

I took a breath and my focus went from Mom to the curtained window and back to Mom.

"I...I feel scared about it I guess. Confused." Shrugging, I tried to examine my own feelings, emotions that I hadn't quite figured out since Dameon asked me. "I...no one was expecting this. His death was such a surprise. I guess I'm more shocked than anything. I mean, a football player!"

"Samuel told me all about it. He was one of the first on the scene after the principal called."

I curled one leg underneath the other and bit my lip. Samuel. I wanted to make sure to talk to him before he left. Who knew when I'd see him again. I glanced at the clock on the wall; still early enough, 8:05AM. He wouldn't leave until 9:00AM.

Mom rubbed her fingers over my knuckles, then my wrist. "If anything like that ever happened to you...I would just...I don't know how I would ever get through it."

"You won't have to, Mom. I'm fine." I sensed the churning mix of worry and guilt inside her. She carried those heavy emotions everywhere, always questioning what she had done that horrible day my father died. Wondering if she had only done this or that differently if he would still be alive. She didn't want to have to regret another death in the family.

"You would tell me if you felt depressed...or..."

"Mom, don't worry." I stood and leaned in for a hug. "I'm fine. I'm not Tommy. I'm not Daddy." I arched my brows and used my most serious expression. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Better not." Mom ended our hug with a tickle to my ribs and a kiss to my cheek before she finally let me go.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Samuel, already in uniform, skip down the stairs to the living room and head into the kitchen. As I heard the sound of eggs being scraped out of the pan and onto a plate at the small dining table, I let go of Mom, too, but the warmth of her hug lingered with me.

"I want to talk to Samuel," I whispered. Rushing away from Mom, I felt her eyes on me the whole way to the kitchen table.

"Hey, Sam." I joined him.

"Hey, Sis, what's up?" Samuel's big brown puppy-dog eyes looked out from under hairy brows.

As he put a spoonful of eggs into his large mouth, I answered him. "I was just wondering how things went at my school...you know with Tommy's accident." I doubted Tommy had jumped. Pushed by Clark? Slipped from fear? But suicide didn't make sense.

"Well, we've collected all the evidence we found on the ground and on the roof."

Damn, the roof. I forgot how thorough my brother could be. If I had made a stop at the school roof before leaving Wednesday, maybe I could have found something more to tell me what really happened to Tommy. But now the evidence would be locked away in police quarters. Sealed tight.

"Find anything?" I fished.

"Not much. A cigarette butt..." He glanced suspiciously at me before he finished, "You know I'm not really supposed to talk to you about this kind of stuff."

"I know..." I sat next to him and rubbed my eyes, bringing tears to the surface, hoping for sympathy, "but we are all shocked, and I just need some answers to help me."

Samuel put his hand on my shoulder and nodded. "I understand. But there really isn't much."

"Do you think he jumped on purpose?"

"Why would you think otherwise?" Samuel's brow arched high.

"I don't know...I guess he just didn't really seem like the type."

"Well, we've found no evidence of a scuffle, nothing to tell us he struggled with someone, on the roof or on the ground."

"But..."

"But what?"

"Why would he have done it? He had so much going for him."

"We can't always know why people do things, Ali." His puppy-dog eyes widened. "Sometimes there just aren't any clear-cut answers."

I stared at his plate of half-eaten eggs and a slice of yolk-moistened toast. Maybe Sam was right about no clear-cut answers, but I couldn't just give up. Journalism needed me. Jennifer needed me. And Tommy deserved to have the truth about his death known.

I pushed my chair away from the table; the screech of wood against the floor hurt my ears. "Sorry." I stood and flipped open my cell.

As I headed toward Mom, I called Jennifer and then Molly. "Meet me at Cafe Cahlua in ten."

"Are you leaving already?" Mom asked from the sofa where she was reading a magazine.

"Just for a bit. Do you think you could drive me?"

"Alright, just don't stay out too late." Mom warned with concern in her voice.

"I won't."

As we pulled up to the café, I got out, waved goodbye to Mom and met my friends, bundled with coats and mittens, at the front door. The cafe easily became one of my favorites. A few couples sat at tables outside, wrapped in coats and mittens, and drank coffee, but we headed inside the building. Paintings of Van Gogh's Starry Night and Gustav Klimt's The Kiss decorated the walls. Duplicates of course, but refined all the same.

"Let's sit at our fav table." Jennifer pointed to the back, and we noticed three newbies sitting there. Looking at each other we hesitated for a second before Molly marched up to them as brave as a lion. With one hand on her hip she confronted them.

"OUR spot. You three need to be outtie in like two secs." Her lowered lids made her stare all the more haunting.

The first guy I noticed wore a cream-colored turtleneck and raked his fingers through his copper-blond hair. Hazel eyes batted up at Molly, reflecting the half smile on his lips. He looked over at me and then back to his two friends.

"Looked empty to me." To his left sat a doting porcelain doll with curly blond locks that fell to her waist and crystal blue eyes. Her legs were crossed, and she sat very straight. She tilted her pointy chin away from the center-guy-of-her-affections to meet dagger eyes with Molly. To the guy's right, a strawberry blond, blue-eyed boy lounged, his back relaxed against the maroon sofa.

Their choice of baggy attire made me feel more comfortable. Maybe they weren't so bad after all, if I didn't count the girl to the left. But no one took our spot. Not even strangely attractive guys. When Molly gritted her teeth, I knew I had to step in. Planting my heels beside Molly, I put a hand on my hip. It worked for her.

"We've been sitting here since Freshman year. Everyone knows that," I huffed. Who did he think he was? How come I didn't recognize him? Did he even go to our school?

As he stood, I noticed his broad shoulders, tight form, and toned arms. Some kind of athlete? "I'm sorry. We didn't mean to cause trouble. Maybe you three would like to join us?"

Blondie turned her dagger eyes on him before returning them to Molly. "Together? Maybe we should keep our distance." She sounded as if she had something against us, against me. But I never met her before today.

"Maybe we could squeeze over." The middle man and apparent leader of the pack signaled with his forefinger for the others to move. Molly shrugged and looked back at me with a compromising expression. The guys were cute, in a not quite GQ kind of way.

Just as Molly was about to slide onto the sofa, Jennifer squirmed behind her whispering to both of us, "I've heard they're stoners. I don't want to hang with stoners." Her toes tapped the hardwood floors.

"Oh, get off your high horse. You hang with me, don't you?" Molly rolled her eyes. Not quite someone who smoked weed, Molly did have a colorful background. At least more than anyone else we knew. She had seemed like the coolest rebel-without-a-cause when we first met in middle school.

Huffing, Jennifer slid onto the other side beside Blondie. Pulling up a chair, I sat across from the main attraction. Not as hot as Dameon, but striking in his own way. Defined lines cornered his eyes as if he thought a lot, and naturally pinked lips brought more color to his face than most guys had. He had clear skin, and an edgy haircut whipped around his ears, deeming him at least a close second to the untouchable-insatiable Dameon. Yes, that is how I thought about the mystery man whose locker stood next to mine. Pathetic, I know, but I had to obsess over something other than school if I would ever survive my next two years.

"Kian." His spiky copper dark bangs rolled over his eyes when he said his name and shook my hand. A soft touch for an athlete. "This is Nathaniel and Krysta."

"Hi." Nathaniel raised his brows at the mention of his name and muttered a greeting that sounded more like a grunt. Krysta kept her hands over her coffee mug and her eyes on Kian. People didn't seem to be her thing.

"Ali, Molly, and Jennifer," Jennifer offered.

"Do you go to Millennium High?" I blurted. Enough with small talk; I needed to know.

"Transfers," Kian answered before any of the others could speak. Nathaniel opened his mouth to say something, but closed it just as quickly.

"When did you all transfer?" Molly beat her stare into Kian.

"Tuesday." Kian said, his voice as short as Molly's.

"All three of you?" Molly's face began to roll like what happens when two girls get into a fight and the best head roll determines the winner. At least that is how things had been handled on most of the streets. "Are you guys like a family or something?"

"Adopted."

"Wow!" Jennifer almost busted something. "So do you all, like, smoke weed?" I glared at her when she made the comment, and she gave me the doe eyed innocent what-did-I-say expression.

"No." Kian's answer remained short. At least he spoke. I wasn't sure Nathaniel could, since every time he opened his mouth, nothing came out. I didn't want to hear Krysta. Something told me the minute we got her started she wouldn't stop... I was right.

Molly straightened her shoulders when the waitress dropped three coffees to our table. She knew what we liked; we came here often enough. "Where did you all come from?" Molly asked.

"Is this twenty questions or something?" Krysta's lips twisted and her brows furrowed.

"No, I just..." Molly tried to bite her tongue and stay polite. She had learned that from me. In middle school the word was that she'd beat you up if you looked at her funny. They were all rumors, as far as I knew.

"Well, don't."

"Excuse me, little miss I-think-I-died-and-came-back-queen." Molly stood, pushing the table with her. "We've been coming here two years, and I'm not sharing OUR spot with some...some hoochie mama."

Kian placed his arm over Krysta, whose face fumed red. "Let's just calm down. There is no reason we can't all get along." He looked at Krysta, and her lashes flashed up and down before she took a breath and extended an apology.

"Sorry I jumped down your throat." Krysta combed her hair with her fingers, a seemingly soothing task. "I overreacted."

Holding in a half grin-half growl, Molly met her halfway and sat back down, avoiding eye contact the entire time. "Apology accepted."

"Can we just have a civil conversation?" Kian seemed to be addressing his gang more than mine, and I smiled with my eyes. "So, what do you think of the coffee here?" he asked.

"Good." I nodded.

"Nice. "Jennifer had to prove she could be civil too, but Molly glared. If trust broke with her, trust remained broken. She had already decided she didn't like that girl Krysta at all, and I had to admit I wasn't too thrilled with her either.

"So how do you guys like the new school?" I asked, taking a sip of my coffee.

"We'll see." Kian answered. "Haven't gone yet."

"That's right. Tuesday transfers." I repeated to myself.

And then everything changed.

"Did you all hear about the suicide?" Molly blared out at Kian.

"You mean Tommy." Kian said. A statement, not a question. Like he knew him, personally. Suddenly, Krysta's elbow hit him in the side.
Back Alleys

"I think we should be going. We have so much more we have to do to get ready for school," Krysta interrupted and, for the first time, she sounded more sane than irate.

The tension between her and Kian could be cut with a butter knife.

"Sure. Let's get going." His careful stare pulled away from me, and I felt afraid I might never see him again. Silly, I know. I mean, I hardly knew him.

Standing, he shuffled out behind Krysta rather urgently, and Nathaniel smiled and gave us a nod before exiting. Kian turned back before the front door shut. "Later."

When they disappeared Jennifer turned to me, "Well, that was interesting."

"To say the least," Molly agreed.

"You think they'll try hanging with us? 'Cuz I really don't want to be seen with stone-heads," Jennifer declared with a stomp of her right foot.

"They aren't smoking anything. Geesh, Jennifer, you can be so judgmental sometimes," Molly responded, though I knew she couldn't stand Krysta, but Kian and Nathaniel weren't too bad on the eyes. "Besides, I've smoked a joint or two in my time, and you still hang with me."

"One or two does not a stoner make," Jennifer litigated and turned with a huff toward the bathroom in the back. "I've got to freshen up." She disappeared behind the wall while I sipped my coffee with Molly at OUR spot. Two round white tables near the back wall offered a comfortable sofa for four if needed. I still sat in my chair on the other side of the tables, looking at Molly.

"What?" She shrugged.

"Nothing," I retorted.

"You've got that look."

"Well, you'll be seeing a lot of it in the future, so get used to it."

"So, what's on your mind?" Molly fished for answers again.

"I was just wondering if any of Tommy's other friends noticed something, or heard something before his...you know." Warmth from the smooth mug kept my palms pleasant.

"They must have. Someone must." Molly sounded so sure.

"Then how do we get to them? Talk to them?" I cringed at the notion of coming face to face with the quarterback or linebacker or any one of the football team. We didn't quite speak the same language. The experience, I'm sure, would feel something like an alien life form trying to communicate with humans. Like something straight out of The Invasion of 2020. I'm not sure I'd recover.

"You're such a wimp sometimes!" Molly repositioned herself so that her legs crisscrossed over the sofa.

"Then you do it," I announced. "Take the reins. Walk up to the football team, flirt, tease. Whatever it takes to make them pay attention, and then go in for the kill."

"And you can't do this, because...."

"Because," my hands were already sweaty, "the idea already gives me anxiety."

"Fine. But you should know, you're sure high-maintenance sometimes." Molly grinned. "You'll owe me one."

As she finished speaking the door chimed open as Clark walked in with the linebacker and a newbie football player from the team. They waltzed up to the counter and ordered a few coffees and cakes.

"Coach would kill us," the newbie worried.

"No matter; he ain't here." Clark reassured him. "Now take it." Clark shoved the chocolate pastry toward the newbie, ill intent obvious on his face. I only noticed because I had seen that look once before in my Sophomore year when I stepped toward the lady's bathroom. Then, Clark had leaned against the wall near the exit showing that same intensity. Seconds later Noe had walked out of the stall, and he yanked her by the collar of her shirt. After he placed the cakes and coffees on a table near the window, Clark tugged a packet of something out of his back pocket. Then he yanked the newbie up by one arm and headed toward the back door, dragging the panic-faced boy along with him. I felt sorry for the newbie. Who knew what antics Clark was up to now. But I felt more than sympathy; I felt curiosity. I needed to know what business Clark had with this unrecognizable face in the back alley.

Within seconds Clark swung open the back door and the two vanished down the hall leading to the bathrooms. As I jumped to my feet, Molly needed no explanation.

"No!" She shook her head.

"Yes." I skidded across the corridor floor to get to the back door in time. Molly couldn't resist, and she hovered over my left shoulder as we stared at the boys through the crack of the door. Clark towered over the newbie with his right hand clenched around the boy's shoulder so tightly that I knew the shoulder would be bruised by morning. But more than what I saw, what I heard startled me more than anything else.

"I saw you with her." Clark's brows arched like swords.

"It...it was nothing. She just needed help carrying her bags," the newbie defended himself.

"I'm not stupid." Clark slapped him across the shoulder bone. "Do I look stupid to you?"

"No, no..."

"Then just tell me what really happened, because the only thing I can't stand more than disloyalty is a lie." Grooves burrowed deep into Clark's forehead and around his eyes. Even though he was several feet away, his tight mouth and tense posture was terrifying, even to me.

"I just helped her with her books. That's all." The boy's pleading bordered on pathetic.

A jolt to my back jerked my head around for a second. "What are you two doin'?" Jennifer asked, peering around us.

"SHH!" we said in unison, and immediately Jennifer caught wind of the soap opera unraveling before our eyes.

With my eyes focused on Clark and the newbie, I listened intently as chilly breezes brushed past the door. Clark stood in his blue jacket, and the shorter boy looked so frail in only a shirt and vest. His jacket remained on his chair inside next to the linebacker.

Clark responded by jabbing his fist into the boy's ribs. "My girl doesn't need any help from you. I advise you to stay as far away from her as possible or...or I don't know what I'd do." Clark's hot face flushed redder than tomatoes.

"Okay, I got it." The maimed boy stumbled backward for space. "I'll stay away from her."

The back alley grew silent. Fear surged from the newbie, a presence real enough to feel. A chill crawled down my spine and into my legs, like tiny spiders taking a million tiny steps. Before Clark turned toward the back door, I spun away and pushed Molly and Jennifer down the corridor. As we fumbled back onto our sofa seconds later, Clark marched past us and grunted as he plopped next to the linebacker, helping himself to the newbie's chocolate cake. I couldn't hear what he said afterward, but I didn't see that newbie return.

"We should get going," Jennifer urged. She hated to find herself in the middle of something like this. "What if Clark saw us?" Her nerves only intensified when Clark glanced in our direction.

"Don't look at them." I kicked Jennifer under the table and she dropped her gaze to the table.

"Damn. You think he saw me watching?" Jennifer twisted her lips.

"Don't worry about it; you think he's going to throw you off a building or something?" Molly chided, making Jennifer and me wince. "Okay, maybe a wrong choice of words." She shrugged.

At the sound of two chairs screeching over the floor, we turned our heads and saw Clark and his friend dart out of the cafe.

"And you were saying I was a wimp because..." I pointed out the likely dangers Molly would endure facing the football team. Everyone knew Clark was the team. If he said the sun shone blue, the sun shone blue...at least to his team.

"I'll make it work." Molly crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Clark through the glass as he walked away down the sidewalk.

"Just be careful whatever you do."

"What is she going to do?" Jennifer butted her face in between us, pulling up the hoodie on her jacket.

"Get info from the football team about Tommy," I answered.

"Well, why don't we show up for the memorial service? They are sure to be there, emotional. Might be the perfect opportunity to pull some information out of his friends." Jennifer had her moments of street-genius, usually book-genius, but today I could have promised to do all her homework for the year.

"Excellent idea." I scratched the itch on my right arm. "Do you know where it'll be held?"

"Got a notice in the mail. You should check yours sometime." Jennifer flung the card with the details over the table.

A Memorial Service will be held for Tommy Bachelor

Millennium Mall Parking Lot at 6PM-9PM this Friday.

Bring candles, flowers and photos.

"Who put this together?" I asked.

"Some good friends of his parents," Jennifer answered.

"How do you know all this?" Molly looked impressed, her lips pursing together in slight jealousy.

"My father's a lawyer. Tommy's parents talked with him about suing the school, and I passed by the door when they were talking about the memorial service."

"Right." Molly sipped her coffee, the sharpest edge of her tone washing away with the drink. Molly wasn't used to Jennifer knowing something she didn't. She didn't take being out of any loop very well. "Let's get out of here."

The door chimed shut behind us, and I felt wisps of fog ravel around my ankles as we walked toward the car. Jennifer plodded beside me, and Molly kicked the fabric-esque mist as if she fought with something moveable, tangible.

"What's up with this fog already?"

"I know, it seems to be everywhere we go nowadays," I agreed, and Jennifer hopped off the sidewalk to her sedan.

"So are we getting out of here or what?" Jennifer held the door handle.

Molly revved the engine, and we took off toward my house. As I stepped to the front door I noticed the mist hanging over the driveway as if it had followed us from the cafe home. Quickly, I pushed my key into the lock and turned it. The three of us piled inside the house, which smelled of grilled basil chicken. As the front door closed with a click, the fog dissipated.

"Where have you girls been? I thought you'd be home earlier," Mom called from the kitchen. The clanking noises from that direction told us that she was putting the finishing touches on lunch.

"We ran into some friends." I shrugged with the words as Molly and Jennifer glared at me. Could Kian really be considered a friend after only one meeting?

"Good; I'm glad to hear you girls had a nice time. The town needs more good times after what happened." Mom pranced out of the kitchen like a proud chef with a platter of grilled chicken in one hand and a plate of toasted buns in the other. Spreading the lunch out on the dining table, she waved us into the room.

"I'm so hungry! Thanks, Mrs. Maney." Molly rubbed her belly and sat down first. For some reason, Molly always had a large appetite when she stopped at my house. I questioned how much her own mother cooked.

Sitting next to Molly, Jennifer grabbed a plate of her own as Mom placed the smaller plate of lettuce and tomatoes at the center. I stood as I arranged my chicken sandwich until I had my meat precisely in the middle of the bun and then sat next to Mom.

"So, tell me all about your day. What did you do?" Mom questioned, studying us closely.

"Not much, Mrs. Maney." Jennifer enjoyed talking with parents. One could say it was her forte'. "We had some coffee and listened to music at the cafe. Ran into some...friends. And then headed home."

"Coffee. My goodness, at your young age!" Mom shook her head. "Kids nowadays."

"Everyone drinks it, Mom," I rationalized.

"Well, it can't be good for your young bodies." She stood and poured us each a glass of orange juice. "Here. This is better for you."

"Thanks." Molly smiled. Her own mom never gave too much attention to details like healthy food. On the few occasions I ate at her house, the fridge always appeared full of junk food. Not that I complained, but my mom would have a cow.

"Best chicken ever," Jennifer added, and Molly's insatiable appetite seemed to agree.

"How late is Samuel working?" I wondered.

"Not too late today," Mom assured me. "He is getting home early, because he will be expected at the memorial service. He has to leave in the morning to help keep crowd and traffic control during service preparations."

I desperately wanted to continue my talk with my brother, but more than that I wanted to weed through his things. I was sure he knew more than he told me. He always did. But I had to get into his stuff before he got home. I gave the scram-eye to my friends, and they got the point.

"Well, I'd better be getting home." Molly put her empty plate into the sink.

"Me, too," Jennifer followed.

"Drive carefully, you two." Mom said before they headed to the parked sedan.

I raced upstairs, listening to Mom whistling in the kitchen as she washed the plates. Plenty of time to rummage. I tiptoed to Samuel's door on the other side of the upstairs hallway, not wanting to alert Mom to my direction of travel. I opened the door carefully, hoping it wouldn't creak, and rushed to the desk.

I pulled the top drawer open. It was full of blank papers and pencils. The second drawer held nothing more interesting than a few family photos and envelopes. I did pause at the picture of me, Samuel and Dad on a fishing trip. With a sigh I shut the oak drawer and eyed the police duffle bag in the corner.

With one zip, I dug my hands into the deep spaces and felt around for anything. Finding Samuel's binder, I flipped open to the first page and found his notes tucked behind the plastic groove. Sketchy handwriting. I had to decode every word, but managed to spell out in my mind something to the effect of...In Tommy's back pocket...a crumpled paper with message FRANCIS: 2G???, followed by a series of question marks. I guessed Samuel wasn't close to figuring out what Tommy meant. Heck, I'd have to think hard about that one too.

It felt like I had only spent minutes inside my brother's room, but I must have been there at last an hour when I heard the sound of the front door slamming shut. I heard Mom shout, "Sammy!" and heard his footsteps skip up the stairs. Damn! I had to get out of there before he spotted me.

I dashed down the hallway and had just about made it to my room before I saw Samuel's foot hit the top stair. I thrust myself into the open bathroom and pretended to have just existed as I saw Samuel turn the corner.

"How you doing, Sis?"

I swallowed. "Fine."

"Gonna catch some early zzzs. Don't bug me." Samuel disappeared behind his bedroom door and I vanished behind mine.
Memorial

I slept in unwillingly. I guess the excitement of the past few days finally caught up to me. But when I opened my eyes my body sprang up and Tommy's message hit me like a truck without brakes. FRANCIS: 2G. Swinging out of bed I quickly took a shower and threw on a maroon sweater, a pair of jeans and a handmade knit hat Mom gave me last Christmas. Galoshes and coat waited at the front door. Grabbing a granola bar and chugging a glass of orange juice, I raced out the door, barely giving Mom time to say hi.

It was ten minutes before the bus at the end of the street got there, and I waited impatiently, pacing like a madman let out of an asylum. When the bus door opened, I dropped a handful of quarters into the machine, and a ticket punched out for me. After ripping the paper from the machine, I slid into a seat somewhere in the middle.

Gazing out the window, I thought I'd never get there in time, before someone else got there. But ten minutes later the bus pulled up at its next stop, and I flew out the splitting doors. With my coat only buttoned up halfway I dashed into the cafe and walked quickly toward the corridor. A series of metal lockers decorated the left wall. Employee lockers. I spotted the name Francis just as I remembered. I had never searched consciously for the name before, so the name Francis had to churn around in my brain for some time before I realized where I'd seen it.

With fingers to the locker handle, I pulled. Locked. Of course. Trudging up to the counter I waited for the attendant, name tag reading Ralph. I tried the puppy dog look I so often watched on my brother's face. It seemed to have worked for him well enough.

"What do you need, Ali?"

"I...I just needed something Francis has."

"What do you mean?"

"A friend of mine gave her something and I need it."

"Okay, well Francis is in the employee room. You'll have to wait till she changes into her uniform and comes out to talk to her."

My cheeks puffed as I gazed at the counter.

Minutes later Francis stumbled out of the employee room tightening the apron around her checkered waist and tossing a cigarette butt into the trash bin. After she bundled her loose brunette hair into a ponytail, her head flipped up and caught my haunting gaze.

"What do you need, Ali?"

"Tommy...Tommy gave you something?" I said it like a question and statement at the same time.

"Yeah...a few days ago."

"Could I see it? He wanted me to have it before he..."

"Sure, Ali. Follow me." She bounced up to her locker marked 2G and spun the combination. "He told me to hold on to it and he'd be back for it soon. But he never came back." She wiped a single tear from her almond eyes and popped the locker open.

Pulling out a thick vanilla envelope, she laid the package into my trembling hands. Trembling because this could be illegal. Trembling because of what hid inside the package.

"Here you go, Ali. Take care of it, whatever it is. Seemed important to him."

"Of course. Thanks, Francis."

As I turned from her, my fingers squeezed the envelope. Something square rested inside for sure. Curiosity drove me mad. I had to open this package and soon! As I hopped onto the sidewalk the chimes of the door sounded a close, and I headed toward the shop on the corner. The shop had many knick-knacks, and I needed candles for tonight. As I strolled, my hands swung back and forth and I squeezed the package again; but as I lifted the envelope to open it, I heard a distinct set of footsteps behind me padding, pad-pad, pad-pad.

Jerking around, I saw no one. The street was empty, except for a few cars and a couple on the other side. Turning back around, I continued to the shop and lifted the package again. Pad-pad, pad-pad. I stopped. The padding ended. I stepped forward until I reached the point where the street hugged a curb. Pad-pad, pad-pad. Now my nerves were on end and I was beginning to panic, but when I turned around again, I saw no one. A car whizzed around the curb. I maintained my course with a careful ear to the sidewalk all the way to the shop. Who followed me? How come I didn't see anyone? I began to doubt my own ears.

Inside the shop felt safe, warm. I didn't usually feel cold in New York, having grown up there. But for some reason I felt cold walking to the shop, stinking more of fear really. But still, I'd never experienced something like that before.

"Welcome to Sara's Boutique. Could I help you find anything?" A short Asian lady asked and I nodded.

"Yes, candles."

"For anything special?" Her raising brows expected a romantic evening.

"For the memorial," I said plainly as I walked behind her up to the candle section, a revolving mechanism in the corner of the shop.

"I heard about that. Real sad. Did you know him well?"

I shrugged. "A bit."

"Let me know when you decide. I'll give you a twenty percent discount."

"Thanks." I tilted my head at the gold-yellow candle. Smelled like cookies.

As she wrapped my candle in the bag, Sara looked only a few years older than me. "Here you go. My prayers are with him."

I half-smiled, as if that meant something to me. I'm not sure if it did or not. I mean, I didn't really know him, but he was my age and went to my school. I didn't exactly see him fall, but I'd never get over that image of his body like a lump on the ground. And all this investigating, this package in my hands...I squeezed again...had to do with him. I was connected to him whether I wanted to be or not.

As I raced down the sidewalk, the air felt tighter as the afternoon slipped into evening. I just wanted to make it to the park across the street. When traffic eased, I made my move, and my coat brushed back and forth across my body. An empty park bench looked perfect. I wiggled in my coat until I got comfortable, curled my right leg under the other, and placed the candle bag to my left before I lifted the package.

As I ripped the envelope open, an iPhone slid into my hands. I furrowed my brows and studied the screen, surfing the messages. Mom. Dad. (God, his parents must have dreaded that news the day he died!). Clark. Mom. There wasn't really much. I listened to the messages one by one carefully.

"Beep...Tommy, please don't be late today. We have to talk. We're worried about you."

"Beep...This is Dad. Looking forward to seeing you, son."

"Beep...Hey man, sorry about the other day. I didn't mean to hit you. You know my temper. Anyway, see you tomorrow."

"Beep...Love you. Have a good day."

So his mom knew something was wrong, enough so that she wanted to sit him down for a talk. And Clark, God...how many did he bully around here anyway?

When I scrolled the apps, a flash flickered on the recorder button and I swiped it. Suddenly, a scene from an alleyway somewhere opened and I watched, my face pressing closer and closer. An unknown man scrambled down the alley, turning the corner. The look on his face was one of terror. This was followed by a flash of light so bright it could have blinded anyone there in person, and then a set of magnificently carved wings appeared. Feathered black wings swooshing up and down like heaven itself. They swirled toward the corner and vanished around the bend. I blinked, keeping my eyes shut for seconds before opening them again. Replaying the recorded scene, I watched again and again until I lost myself in it.

When I pulled away from the iPhone's recording, I noticed mist bending in and out of my leg and the bench. Chills rushed down my spine, and I felt as if someone stood behind me, watching. It was hard to describe what I felt exactly. Almost like something warm, something large, something encompassing... all around me. I jerked around. Goose bumps ran up and down my arms, but the fog dissipated and I saw no one.

I didn't have time to think about a stalker. I had to get to the memorial. Molly and Jennifer would be there, and I had so many more questions that needed answers. Questions that maybe Tommy's friends or family could answer.

Texting Molly, I demanded she get to the park pronto. She showed up in twenty minutes. I didn't like standing in the park alone, waiting. And the image of those wings circled my mind. The wings in the reflection of the Kindle on the bed in my room. The wings in the alleyway that I had seen on the recorder. Then the wings in the book Tommy used.

Something strange was going on in New York City, and I might just be the only one aware of it.

Strutting up to the sedan that was pulling up along the park curb, I hopped in the back seat. I didn't want to tell them what I found. After all, Molly just about laughed at me when I told her what I saw in the reflection of the Kindle. And this recording probably had nothing to do with Tommy's fall. We saw what Clark did to the newbie. He was hot on our investigative radar. This angel thing needed to be kept secret. If this recording got out, the city would flip. And Jennifer had a big mouth; after all, the apple didn't fall far from the tree. God, I could only imagine this recorder in the hands of her father, the lawyer! Police would be all over it. And my brother! I had to keep this buried.

"So what did you do all day?" Molly craned her neck from the passenger seat to eyeball me. "Didn't hear from you all day."

"I..."

Jennifer looked up at me through the rearview mirror, searching my facial gestures for honesty. Came with the territory, out of habit I guess.

"I just had a few errands to run. What did you all do?"

"Candle shopping, looking up Clark in last year's Yearbook. We thought maybe we'd find something." Jennifer tucked red hair under her knit hat.

"Didn't you find anything in your brother's stash?" Molly caught my gaze in the rearview mirror as Jen focused on the road "Isn't that why you wanted us to leave?"

"Yeah, but I looked and found nothing." I swallowed hard and hoped Jennifer didn't notice. It was best if they didn't know. It didn't have to do with Clark anyway, but I hated lying to them. Couldn't remember the last time I had.

When the memorial service started, the sky covered us like a blanket. A sea of people stood in the mall parking lot. I'd never seen so many people in one spot. Then the sky crackled. Of all days, the sky wanted to rain today. But no one left. Thank God, no one left. We would stay and pay our respects. Tommy's mom and dad spoke into a microphone thanking everyone. His mom read a poem and his dad said a few words about how we'd all miss him and how he had gone too soon. Tears streamed down faces around me and I found that even I began to cry, and then we lit the candles and waved them in the air. Photos were held up to remind us all of the good times, good times some of us did not even have.

With my arms slung around Molly and Jennifer on either side I saw Dameon weave through the crowd in the distance. His expression was unreadable. As he headed in my direction, I would have recognized those liquid black eyes and that black leather jacket anywhere. Our eyes locked, and I felt like the world around me disappeared in a spout of tunnel vision. God, was he really coming to me? When he was only a few feet away, he raked his fingers through his raven hair and I could have crooned. I'd seen wings like heaven on Tommy's iPhone, but Dameon always took my breath away.

Then Kian, Krysta, and Nathaniel bounced up behind me. Kian's hand touched my shoulder and broke our connection.

"You came, too. Good to see you." Kian licked his lips. I tilted my head toward him, and then flipped back around, only to realize that Dameon had vanished. Damn.

"Yeah, we came. He went to our school." I answered, a tinged aggravated. I'm sure he heard it in my tone.

"So, you going to stay for the whole thing?" Kian asked. Krysta shuffled her feet over the gravel like she suffered from prolonged boredom.

"I plan to. Aren't you?" My brow quirked. Jennifer and Molly stared at our interaction. I could see the pleading in Molly's eyes. She wanted me to hook up with Kian, but my heart was set on Dameon. So, maybe she'd make a move? She deserved a little fun in her life. Jennifer's eyes burned on my skin like hot coals. But I didn't need another mother.

"If you do." Kian grinned, a glint in his eyes telling me he would be staying close. The candlelight danced in his hair, the copper blond highlighting it. Nathaniel's strawberry blond locks looked like an ignited ball of fire, and Krysta's skin glowed bronze as if she had been sunbathing all day.

Molly rolled her eyes and giggled at that response and then returned her attention to the speakers while Kian inched closer to me. When Jennifer's arm dropped, he must have seen his chance and squeezed in between her and me. I felt Krysta fuming; an extra bonus?

We all listened to the words from Tommy's father. Words that beat like guilt. How come no one could help him?

"Tonight we remember my son. He had his hopes set on college. Would have been first in his family to go." He wiped the tears streaming down his face. "But we will remember him for his courage, tenacity, and most importantly, his generosity. He's touched so many lives, and my only hope is that you will always carry a part of him with you."

I dropped my head.

When the speeches ended, we saw our opportunity to get some of the answers we needed. As Clark passed us on the left, I bumped into Molly to nudge her in his direction. His expression went from grief to aggravation to pleasure in microseconds, as she stumbled into him. She swung her short bob, and her exposed neck seemed refreshing, something to divert his attention away from the death. I noticed the desire in his eyes.

"Sorry." Molly fumbled to stand straight and let him help her. She played the damsel in distress well.

"No problem...I didn't catch your name?" He wiped his waxy hands on his tattered jeans.

"Molly...but my friends call me Mol, Mols." She rambled; endearing.

"Okay...Mols." He steadied her with hands on each of her shoulders as his eyes caressed her neck.

"Did you know Tommy well?" She didn't like to waste time and tilted into him as if he helped her keep her balance better.

"Yeah; real tight friends."

The kind you let off some steam with? I cringed and tried not to be noticeable while I listened. Kian stared at me. His look had a sharp edge. My brother had that look sometimes, one of intense seriousness.

"Do you know why he would do it...jump I mean?" Molly feigned wiping a tear as if the whole memorial tore her up on levels Clark didn't even see. And it did in a way; death could do that, but more importantly she wanted Clark's reaction.

"I..." Clark dropped his head into his hands while guilt washed over him. "I didn't think he would ever do it." His voice sounded like sandpaper. Shaking his head, he finally lifted his downcast eyes from defeat to meet Molly's inviting ogle.

Molly put her hand on the back of Clark's neck and eased him to her. "Wasn't your fault. No one could have predicted."

I wasn't sure if she actually believed those words. I mean, we had been relatively sure Clark was the culprit behind it all. But she had her game face on and could be convincing.

"Thanks." He shook his head as sobs burst from him and tears gushed from his reddening eyes. "But I should have known...I pushed him too hard."

Was that a confession? I wiggled my fingers into my frayed back pocket, yanking out the iPhone. I had to record this. We might not ever get another chance. The camcorder icon flashed red. Brilliant.

"Pushed him?" Molly inched closer to Clark, tightening her grip like a strong masseuse.

Breaking her hold, Clark threw his left hand to his forehead, hiding his crying eyes and darted off just as the sky rumbled and rain poured. His foggy silhouette drew further and further away into the crowd, and I returned the iPhone to my pocket. The once vibrant glow of the candle flames washed out and an anemic grey ambiance saturated the skies.

"Did you get that?" Molly swung to me.

"Just the last part." I sounded disappointed.

"He admitted to pushing him." Molly stood stunned and yet proud of her achievement at extracting information. "We have to go to the police...to your brother. Someone has to investigate Clark professionally!"

"I..." I didn't know if getting Samuel involved would be the best course of action. On the one hand I didn't want him too close to my affairs; after all, what I saw on the Kindle reflection and the iPhone would shock him. On the other hand, if Samuel investigated Clark, I would be privy to all his notes. "I'll see what he can do."

Tapping me on the shoulder, Jennifer pointed ahead and motioned through the crowd with me at her tail. I didn't want to miss this. She had to get to the speakers before the rain drove them into sealed cover. When she reached Tommy's parents they huddled under a few umbrellas supplied by helpful guests.

"Hi...I don't mean to bother you," Jennifer's voice wavered at the intrusion as she cuddled herself with her arms when gusts of wind grew stronger, "but I knew your son. The whole thing was so shocking." She finished with a teary voice. Rain patted over her cinnamon hair as Tommy's mother wrapped her arms around Jennifer and drew her underneath the umbrellas. She waved me in soon afterward.

"Me too." I added. "A friend."

"You said you're friends of Tommy's?" His mom replied.

Nodding, Jennifer smiled with such sincerity that her freckles bunched to the tops of her cheeks. "And I just wondered if he seemed at all different to you the last few weeks?" Jennifer had a way of asking the difficult questions with such innocence in her expression that even a mobster would have answered. The sky cracked with lightning, and loud thunder boomed while rain pelted diagonally.

"Yes, he was," the mother said with a sponge of somber emotion behind her words. She needed to talk about this and Jennifer listened. "He...was always a strong kid, but lately something really got to him." I could hear the desperation in his mom's voice, the yearning for answers, and the hope that maybe Jennifer or another one of Tommy;s friends might know something. But we didn't.

I also could only imagine what or who that something was that got to Tommy lately. Clark came to mind; images of him pushing Tommy around for speaking to Noe.

"Darling, we'd better head out of here. We've got a long drive," Tommy's father interrupted, and he cradled his wife into his chest.

"My condolences." I offered a warm salutation, but no words ever felt enough.

"Take care of yourselves, girls." Tommy's mother strolled off with her husband, sheltered from the rain by a borrowed umbrella.
Feathers

As I stared at the window I heard scratches on the glass frame for a second time. Springing off my bed, I headed to the curtained window to check it out. I rapped my knuckles across the glass. The black sky hid most of the front lawn from me. If someone did lurk out there I couldn't see them.

"You're so jumpy tonight!" Molly crisscrossed her legs on my bed and bunched up two pillows behind her back. Cozy cotton pajamas and red socks kept her warm. "It's because of Clark, isn't it?"

"He's going to hunt you down in the middle of the night to take back the evidence you recorded on the iPhone," Jennifer giggled in a husky voice, her attempt at the movie Scream.

"Just stop it!" I reacted, a little scared.

"How did you get that iPhone anyway? I've never seen you with one before. Jennifer played with my CDs as she stood by the cabinet.

"I...I got it from Mom. She wanted me to have something reliable for communication."

"Whatcha doing with your old phone? I'll take it." Molly offered. "I could use one." She munched on potato chips; the bag crinkled. As much as I wanted Molly to have a cell that wasn't as over played as Madonna, I needed mine. After all, the iPhone really belonged to Tommy and I didn't feel right using it for my personal calls.

"Sorry, Mol, I'm keeping it."

With a roll of her eyes, she retorted, "Whatever." She shoved another chip into her salivating mouth.

"So, are you going to talk to your brother tomorrow morning? He should know what Clark said," Jennifer insisted. The lawyer's daughter in her unrelenting single-mindedness.

"I will...but first thing tomorrow we are going to the roof of the school."

"The what of the what?" Molly dropped her chip.

"I have to search the roof myself. Now that we know Clark is involved we know what to look for. Maybe he left something behind on the roof to indicate he was there!" I defended my theory.

"And maybe we will get ourselves killed!" Molly emphasized the last word. "You saw Clark with that newbie in the alley. He means business, and if we go putting our noses in his Kool Aid, how do you think he is going to react?"

"He doesn't have to know." I answered nonchalantly, but nothing about this was easy.

"And the cops? How are we going to maneuver around them? They've still got yellow tape up and everything." Jennifer spun around from the cabinet and shot a questioning look at me.

"Geesh! You're starting to sound like Mol," I huffed. "We'll be fine. I've heard my brother on his phone. The cops aren't there anymore. Just the tape. We can sneak around back like last time and use the stairs to the roof."

"Have you forgotten? We've run out of favors from your friend Alberto, Molly pointed out with an artificial Spanish accent, imitating Alberto.

"We won't need one," I stated plainly, and Jennifer took a seat next to us.

"What do you mean?" she braced herself with her hands flat on the bed.

"When we left through the back door I kind of pressed my chewing gum inside the latch where the door seals. Even if Alberto locks the door, the door should open fine."

"And I thought only I did stuff like that." Molly almost beamed like a proud parent. And I had to give her credit. I never would have done something like that before meeting her.

***

Saturday morning I threw on a knapsack full of necessary-items-for-clandestine-operations-on-a-roof. I started to feel like special ops. We all bundled up for the cold weather. Molly and Jennifer wore knit hats, but I just let my dark hair cover my chilled ears. Frost tipped the blades of grass; must have been a wintery night.

When we finally got to the back door of the school, we all stared at the door for one long silent moment. This or nothing. I pushed, and the world around me froze. In slow-motion the door unlatched and I stepped cautiously inside, gripping my sack.

"You can scour the city with me anytime." Molly joked from behind me. I guess I proved my usefulness.

Turning up the staircase we plodded upward until we reached the top. The roof door squeaked open, and the wind rattled on all sides of the squared rooftop. When all three of us stepped onto the asphalt, the door slammed with an ear cracking bang. My lips quivered and I tried to swallow my fear. Gulp.

"So, what do you think we are going to find, anyway? I mean, if I'm risking my life and everything," Jennifer asked as she peered over one ledge. Stopping next to her, I looked down and saw the yellow tape marking the area where students and faculty could not walk. Chalk still outlined where his body had lain.

"I don't know. Just look." I pressed and stepped away from her. Molly paced in the back, her arms folded.

"I'm not sure there is anything here, but I'm cold."

Skimming the corners, I stayed along the edge. "Just keep looking. The cops only searched the roof once. Samuel said so. They probably missed something."

"Whatever." Molly rolled her eyes, but underneath her attitude I knew she secretly loved being here.

"Would you rather be sitting bored in front of the TV?" I suggested to both friends.

"Curled up on the warm sofa with a cup of tea?" Jennifer added.

"Come on, wimps." I had to encourage them somehow. Since we had joined the secret ops, I felt that sounding like a drill sergeant might work.

It seemed to work for Molly. She stopped pacing and squatted, keeping her eyes close to the surface of the roof. "Lots of cigarette butts."

"Alberto?" Jennifer questioned with a cocked brow.

"Probably," I answered. I dipped my fingers behind the rain gutter.

"Find anything?" Jennifer plodded away from the ledge and headed toward me at the other end.

"Nothing yet." Disappointment filled my usual perky features.

Kicking a trash bin in a corner, Molly shrugged. "Maybe I should just turn Clark in to the police. Tommy deserves justice, and if you're not ready to talk to your brother about this, I'm going to have to do it."

"Mol!" I jerked around, my fingers still behind the gutter. "I'm going to tell him. I told you that. Just as soon as we're finished here."

"Promise?" Molly hated it when criminals got away with crimes. Moving from house to house and spending too much time on the streets, she saw more than most.

"I blood promise."

The expression had begun in middle school when Jennifer and I first met Molly during P.E. A bully pushed Jennifer and she fell to the pavement and scraped her chin. Out of the distance a ripped-jeaned, bushy–haired, thick–browed, leather-bound girl pounced on top of the bully. When the bully smacked Mol in the nose, I saw blood for the first time. Hence the expression. The P.E. coach broke up the feud minutes after it began, but our loyalty to each other remained strong from then on. Whenever we really meant something we used the expression 'blood promise' to show our commitment.

"Do you see that?" Jennifer pointed below, cowering to the floor to keep unseen.

"What?" Molly threw her head up, frazzled.

"Someone's coming," Jennifer whispered, and I peeked over the gutter.

Three shadows vanished under us, passing the chalk outline of Tommy. Within five minutes we all jerked our heads toward the roof door, which was swinging open.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, stunned.

"Did you follow us or something? You stalker, you!" Molly winked at Kian. She sensed he liked me as more than just an acquaintance or friend.

Nathaniel's skin looked delicious, like basted turkey on Thanksgiving Day. He radiated bronze hues. Krysta always glowed like a light bulb with infinite effervescence, and even more so standing next to Nathaniel. Like sun and moon.

"No," Kian spoke with a well scripted smirk. "Did you three really think you were the only ones intrigued by Tommy's death?"

My brows arched and skin pricked. "Intrigued? What makes you think we're up here for Tommy?"

"Why else?" Kian raked his fingers through his copper-blond hair, and for a minute, he competed for the space in my mind I reserved for Dameon.

"We think his death is suspicious, too." Kian persisted, stepping closer to me with each word until he was standing only inches away. His breath rushed over my neck and down my chest. I felt him on me even though we didn't touch. Jennifer stepped aside with a jarring stare over Kian, protective—like a sister.

"No, we don't," Krysta interrupted, drawing a strange look from Kian. "We don't think anything about Tommy. We didn't even know him that well."

"We didn't know him that well either." Jennifer commented as I felt the power struggle between Kian and Krysta for the first time. At first, in the cafe, I thought she pined for Kian, but now the interactions seemed more hostile, like when Molly and Jennifer compete for the title of who's smarter.

Nathaniel watched me closely, eyes soft, but full of story. "Quiet, Kian," he whispered. I'd never heard him say so much.

"She already knows." Kian responded.

"Knows what?" I trembled from being so close to Kian. His statuesque form hovered over me, engulfed me. I could feel him from all sides, although he only stood in front.

"Knows that Tommy's death wasn't a suicide." Kian stepped an inch closer, and our lips almost touched. Eve had been tempted by the apple in the Garden of Eden. I now understood her plight.

"You don't think so, either," I said under my breath. Maybe no one but Kian heard me.

"No. We know it wasn't."

"Then who did it?"

"Or what." His whisper fell only on my ears...or so I thought.

Batting her hands in the air Krysta threw her head back. "Great, now you're going to drag her into all of this. Endanger her life." Molly and Jennifer hadn't heard the discourse between Kian and me, simply saw the mix of seriousness and desire on my face, but when they heard Krysta's rant, they turned to me.

Worry lines met around Molly's mouth, and wrinkles furrowed Jennifer's brows.

"Endanger?" I squinted, confused.

"She knows too much already," Krysta grumbled. I couldn't be sure what she meant. If I knew too much about the murder of Tommy? Clark? Or the angels? Did they see them too?

"She is already involved. Haven't you felt the power shift?" Kian defended his decision as he grunted into Krysta's ear. Nathaniel seemed to stand between my friends and his like a shield.

"What are you guys talking about? Do you know who killed Tommy?" Molly's face turned hot. But Kian went silent. Whatever he had to say, he seemed to only want to say to me.

"Well?" She stomped her foot.

Dagger looks from Krysta met Molly's angry gaze. "Tommy never would have jumped. You have all the information you need to figure out who and why. All you have to do is take it to the cops."

Kian gritted his teeth and shot an angular glare at his friend.

"What?" Krysta reacted to his look. "Someone has to put an end to this child's investigation before more mayhem comes of it."

"Child's investigation?" Jennifer hated implications of stupidity. "We've practically solved the crime. We should be given an award or something."

"Right," Krysta couldn't resist. "You've connected the well-plotted dots. Good for you. Let's all go home now."

Molly's glare veered from Krysta to Nathaniel and finally to Kian. These three hooligans knew about Tommy's death before she did. Krysta surely seemed to know more than she let on, and they implicated that I, her best friend, might be in danger. What the heck was going on? "Maybe Krysta's right. It's time we all get out of here before someone gets hurt."

"I'm with you on that," Jennifer agreed. "I'm looking forward to that warm sofa and cup of tea. Come on, Ali."

As my two best friends in the whole world turned their backs on me and headed to the door, I felt a tickle at my ankle. Leaning down, I curled my fingers around a stark black feather. I fanned it out and found it to be the size of my palm. I'd never seen a feather quite like this one. I felt another on my ankle and turned to see one more blow out from under the rain gutter. I must have knocked them loose.

While I held one feather in my hands, the other two swirled into the air. Carried by the gusts of wind, they danced into the sky where they belonged. I watched them fly away like listless birds into the chalky clouds and disappear.

Turning back around, Molly and Jennifer waited at the door which stood ajar as Kian whispered to me, his words like velvet on my skin. "Your life is in serious danger. I'm not taking my eyes off of you."

Whatever Krysta heard peeved her. She strutted away from Kian and me with a chip on her shoulder and an extra kick in her rhythm. I couldn't be sure why. Did I represent competition, or did she just not want me in on their secrets? Curiosity engulfed me. Kian had secrets. He knew about Tommy, his death. He knew I was in danger. From what? Why? How did Kian know all this? And was Clark really to blame?

I didn't have long to ask him, because when we arrived at the ground floor the cops showed up in the administration parking lot, and we all scrambled in different directions. Molly grabbed my wrist and threw me into the backseat with her, and as soon as Jennifer plopped into the driv-er's seat, the sedan revved. I looked back to find Kian and his friends, but like Dameon at the memorial, they had vanished.
Revelations

Molly and Jennifer decided to stay in the comforts of their homes on the last day before school. Their parents had begun missing them, as much time as they had been spending over at my house. Besides, going back to school meant they needed to be in bed early.

I stepped near the kitchen and saw Samuel eating one of Mom's amazing chicken sandwiches for lunch. The thought occurred to me that now would be the perfect time to talk to him about Tommy and Clark. I had seen and heard enough to draw suspicion in Clark's direction. But then I remembered how Krysta reacted to Jennifer when she said, "You've connected the well-plotted lines." There was just something about the way Kian glared at Krysta when she told us to take our information to the cops.

Maybe Clark was innocent? I mean, he was in my English class at the time of the murder, wasn't he? I tried to remember, but all I could see was Dameon's face. Then I recalled when Clark confronted Dameon. He was there! Unless he rigged something to let Tommy drop during 1st period so he'd have an alibi, he couldn't have done it. And was Clark really that clever?

What did Kian mean when he said, "or what?" After everything with Clark in the back alley, the scratches on my window, the reflection on the Kindle and the recording on the iPhone, I began to wonder if the "what" could have been...an angel. I know; the idea sounded ludicrous even in my own mind. I mean, angels. Really? Forget the impossibility of them existing, but what would they have to do with Tommy's death? Why?

I decided I shouldn't say anything to Samuel until I knew more. The disloyalty would crush Molly; I blood promised her. But I rationalized she would come to understand as I understood what the heck was going on at Millennium High. Besides, Kian said I was in danger. I had felt someone watching me and heard someone following me when I picked up the iPhone. I didn't want to draw any more stalkers my way.

I sneaked carefully around the kitchen corner, wanting to head back to my bedroom. I had a lot to sort out alone.

"Hey, Ali! Come here." Samuel waved me down as I passed. "Come, have a seat." I plopped down next to him, and he handed me half his sandwich. "Have you eaten?" I shook my head and took the food graciously. "Feels like we never see each other anymore, what with my new hours and all."

"We didn't see much of each other when you were in the academy, either," I told him. He'd always been sure of what he wanted since ten years old.

"Well, I miss you. How you doin'? Holding up?" Felt like prodding, like the way he elicited information out of suspects.

"I'm...good." I shrugged. "Fine."

"Well, Mom wanted me to make sure you really are fine."

"Oh. I am." Then I thought that maybe instead of giving him information, I could pull some out of him. "So, how is your investigation on Tommy going? Any new leads?"

"Same old, same old. I got to tell you I think the poor kid just couldn't handle all the pressure and jumped."

"And nothing makes you think differently?" I bit my lip.

"Not really." He paused in recollection. "Why? Should it?"

"No reason; I just wasn't sure what happened is all."

"Well, looks cut and dry as far as the New York City Police are concerned."

"Oh." I didn't want to push my luck and bit into the sandwich.

"You've been going out a lot with Jen and Mol."

"Yeah."

"Did you make it to the memorial service?"

"We all went."

"Didn't see you." He scratched his head.

"We stayed in the crowd. Probably hard to pinpoint where we were."

"So, you're heading back to school tomorrow."

"My glory days are over," I smirked.

"So, are you fine with that? I mean, going back to your English class?"

I froze in an emotional swirl. I couldn't be sure. I hadn't really thought about that all week, but I would be walking back into the class where I saw it happen. My God! And Clark would be there. Nerves bunched up in bundles and I began to feel hot. Not in a good way.

"You alright? You look a little sweaty." Samuel touched my forehead. "You coming down with a fever?"

All I could see was Tommy's limp body and the blood pouring out from underneath him at all ends. "No, no. I'm just...I just didn't put much thought into it before, that I am going back to the same classroom where Tommy fell outside the window."

"Sorry Sis. Maybe I shouldn't have brought it up at all. I suck at this."

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine. I just need some water." I grabbed a glass from the cabinet and used the water from the spout on the fridge. "Tell Mom I'm fine. If anything comes up, I'll let you guys know." I rested my hand on my big brother's shoulder. "Promise."

"Okay, Sis. See you later." With the nod of his head I knew I'd been freed. A released suspect. Didn't take long for me to become captive again. Mom leapt from her favorite rocking chair and locked her gaze on me.

"Ali, let's go to the mall. We never spend any time together anymore."

I wanted desperately to say no, that I've got murder, angels, and stalkers to figure out, but she was right; we hadn't been spending much time together, and she wouldn't have believed me anyway. Besides, with Dad gone she wanted to make sure she made up for his loss. I didn't want to make her feel any worse than she already did.

"Alright, Mom. Just let me get my phone," I shouted as I raced to my bedroom. Shoving the cell into my back pant pocket, I threw on my galoshes and a light winter coat. The air felt warmer today. March waited just around the corner.

***

At the mall Mom and I window shopped. I tried on a few pairs of jeans and a couple of dressy gowns. Mom wanted me to be prepared for Prom, but I didn't even know if I'd be going. Heck, I hadn't even been asked yet.

"Why don't you let me pay for a limo for you three girls? It's your Junior Prom in a month and a half!" Mom suggested as I pulled up a pink satiny dress.

"Really?" I sensed that Mom felt worried about me after Dad's death, and then even more since Tommy died at my school. She regularly tried to cheer me up with purchases. More than that, I enjoyed spending time with her...for the most part.

"Of course. I want you to be happy. It's really not too expensive. I'll help with the limo and dress and then the rest is up to you."

"Thanks, Mom." Her hugs always felt warming, like hot cocoa on a cold winter day.

"You know, I don't know if I even have anyone to go with yet."

"You? You're kidding. You'll find someone. Beautiful girls don't stay on the market long."

I didn't have the heart to tell Mom that boys at my school liked girls with a little more feminine suave to them. With a few more pronounced curves and much more attitude. I wore baggy clothes and little make-up. I had a natural beauty, sure, but nothing compared to what I competed against at Millennium High.

"I like this one." Mom patted down the dress and stretched the fabric evenly across my body.

"Kinda shiny, don't you think?" I commented.

Giggling she responded. "You're right." She waved her hand at the dressing stall as if to tell me to take it off. Back to the drawing board. At last I knew what didn't work.

By the time we finished our shopping we walked out with two bags. One held a gold velvet gown that swooped around my neck, a gold purse and heels. The other carried a couple of pairs of jeans, pants and tops. Mom really knew how to take my mind off of going back into English class.

***

When I reached my bedroom after dinner I threw myself over my fluffy sheets. Ham casserole rolled around in my stomach. My eyes caught the ceiling and thoughts circled like a carousel until I fell asleep. Tommy. Clark. Kian. Angels. My head raced dizzily with dreams...nightmares.

The man from the alley stumbles over the gravelly road as a black winged creature descends toward him. In flight he, it, appears so elegant and regal. Like nothing could stop the force of the thrust under the wings. The creature maintains close proximity with confidence until it vanishes behind the corner with the man, neither to be seen again.

My body levitates to the rooftop of the school with black feathers floating about me in whirls. Frolicking like a child, I dance in the feathers as if in love for the first time. Laughter falls from my lips as wind whistles through my hair, and then the sky crackles and rain pours over me, sticking my clothes to my body.

Then he appears, the black winged creature, with something in his mouth. But his face is hidden in the storm and the night. I tiptoe forward as if any sound might startle him. Squinting my eyes, I stretch to see inside of him. Flapping wings push wind toward me as his mouth opens in a deafening screech. With his mouth wide open, I can see what he holds inside. ME!

I jumped up out of bed and felt sweat rolling like beads down my neck. I took a few deep breaths. As I brushed my long hair out of my face and behind my ears, I crawled to the edge of my bed and slid open the nightstand drawer where I had hid the last of what we recovered from Tommy's locker. I didn't want the notepad disappearing in the night like Tommy's other items. Gripping it, I flipped to the drawings. Good thing I placed it underneath my pillow that night everything else disappeared. A tingle of guilt made me shudder as I wondered if I should have given this to his mother. She certainly would have appreciated it.

I paused at the angel depiction, the one I had seen in my dreams. The black winged creature. Tommy's artwork was infectious, possessing a real absorbing quality. Did Tommy encounter this angel in the city? This same angel that chased a man in the alley? Perhaps something similar happened to Tommy on the rooftop? Maybe the fear of this beautiful thing pushed him over the edge? An accident. Because angels didn't murder, did they?

My lids felt heavy. Sundays I loved to sleep in, eat and lounge around the house. With everything on my mind this day I simply became more sluggish. I didn't want to move from my bed, and I just stared at the notepad as if I were in a trance. My brain began to hurt. Making sense of all this didn't make any sense.

I rolled over and laid the notepad on the nightstand, picked up a magazine and stared out my window. The sun had set hours ago, but I couldn't get comfortable. I didn't want to get up and I didn't want to sleep. But my lids kept drooping. The words on the magazine began to look hazy, so I closed my eyes for several minutes. Or so I thought.

The jarring sound of a crash outside woke me. My eyes felt better and flashed to the alarm clock. 2:00A.M. I sprinted to the window and pulled back the curtain and saw a blanket of blackness. Twinkling stars and a bright moon provided the only light. But as I stared further and deeper I made out the silhouette forms of two creatures fluttering in the sky. Legs, arms, wings.

The taller winged being struggled with the shorter being for several seconds, each pulling and pushing the other until the taller one pushed himself away from the house and into the clouds. I couldn't be sure in the blackness and from such a distance, but he appeared darker in color. The shorter winged being fluttered toward the almost full moon, and the reflections of moonlight shone over his heavenly body. If I hadn't known the term I still would have called him an Angel. I couldn't take my eyes off the radiance of his essence.

I felt like I'd been healed of everything in that instant. Dad's sudden collapse. Tommy's murder. The images of Tommy's body outside English class. Unforeseeable danger. Healed of everything that had drawn me into the dark abyss time and time again. This encounter felt nothing like my nightmare, like the angel that had me locked in his mouth...but then the angel disappeared, and so did the serenity.

I stayed in front of my window for at least an hour afterward. I could hardly believe what I had seen. Reflections on the Kindle and recordings on the iPhone paled in comparison. Nothing had prepared me for something like this. For the unreal, the supernatural. I felt like I walked on air, although my feet were firmly on the carpeted floor.

I didn't understand quite what I had seen, either. Flipping open Tommy's notepad again I skimmed the sketches of the black winged angel and I saw nothing that resembled the celestial creature who had floated under the moon. Nothing. But then the sketches were only pictures drawn by human hands, imperfect. I had seen the ethereal angel in real life. Or maybe Tommy and I saw different beings? I couldn't be sure. But one thing I did know, there was no way I could fall asleep again tonight.

Sitting on my bed in contemplation, I held my knees. If these things...these angels...really did exist, then maybe one of them stole the books and papers from my bedroom that night? But why? To keep their existence secret? Then my mind wandered to Kian. If he knew about these angels, perhaps he took the books and papers? Perhaps he really was trying to protect me?

I assembled a timeline in my head.

Tommy kisses Noe. Perhaps Clark confronts him? Is Clark the angel of Tommy's drawings? Tommy starts acting differently. He becomes reclusive; withdraws. Checks out books on angels. Sketches forms of angels into his notepad. He dies. Either way, I probably needed to stay away from Clark and anything remotely angel-like. I didn't want to end up dead, too. But could I really trust Kian?

A shiver rushed up my spine at the thought.

The only people I really trusted at school had gone back to their homes yesterday. I wondered what Mol and Jen thought about all that had transpired on the rooftop. Krysta shook things up, and Kian and I might not have been as quiet as we thought. My friends weren't stupid, and I hadn't heard from either of them all day Sunday.
Closer

17-75-7. I spun my lock combination and flipped open my locker. I had a spare maroon sweater hanging in there for unexpected cold days. In winter this worked well, but now with spring ap-proaching, I decided better to take the sweater home. Tucking the wooly garment toward the back of the locker, I pulled out my assignment folder.

Journalism. I rubbed my fingers over the label and then over the Paramore stickers I had stuck there after the concert weeks ago. One of the best. So much had changed since then. All I had worried about then was bumping into Dameon, and where my friends and I would hang out over the weekend.

Now, Tommy's death haunted me. Every time I saw Clark in the hallway I couldn't be sure if I should apologize to him or accuse him. Kian seemed to know more than he let on, and I didn't know whether his knowledge fell more toward the 'who killed Tommy' side or toward the 'angels in the city' side. Or both? And the more I mulled over the stalker and over Kian's words of warning on that roof, the more I felt vulnerable.

I didn't even know any more if I wanted to turn in my assignment to the Journalism teacher. How could I accuse Clark? Kian said a who, not a what, killed Tommy. And what would bringing attention to Tommy's death do to the angels? If they somehow had been tied up in all of this, I didn't want the cops to find out. I'm sure it would have been an accident.

"Hey Ali!" A tap on my shoulder pulled me away from my reverie. Pulling a paint brush with crusty blue ends from her backpack, Molly bounced up and down as she spoke. "Guess who I saw earlier this morning?"

"Who?" My face squished up as my shoulders rolled forward.

"Kian." Molly licked her lips as if his name should somehow make me swoon. "He was asking for you." She winked.

"Why?" I sounded defensive, as if I thought he could be the stalker.

"Because he likes you, you Nimrod. You can't tell me you're so obtuse you didn't notice."

I had noticed, but I couldn't be sure I cared. I mean, three months had passed, and Dameon was finally paying attention to me. The guy of my dreams. And I didn't even know who Kian was. What kind of a guy jumps onto the roof of the school over the weekend? The kind that means trouble.

"Well," I shrugged, "tell him I'll see him around." I couldn't sound more nonchalant.

"I think he wants to look after you." Molly wiped her nose with the back of her arm; the paint brush was still in her hand. "I think someone's got an admirer."

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes at Mol as Jennifer skirted around the corner and rushed up to us. Thick laced boots clogged all the way.

"Ali..." Jennifer's ringlets of red hair draped over her cheeks from under her pink knit hat. "So what did you two talk about on the roof?"

"Who? When?" I kinda had an idea who and when, but I didn't want her to think I cared. And I didn't want to have to explain

"Kian. On the roof Saturday. Duh! We heard you two talking all quiet-like. Something important, I bet." Jennifer's brows rose a few times. "Something to do with Clark? Tommy?"

"It was nothing." I reacted by turning away from her. Mistake.

"Nothing? You know I was closer to Tommy than any of you. If anyone has a right to know, I do."

"I'm sorry." I jerked back around to face her, unprepared to answer questions about everything.

"Sorry?" Jennifer stomped her foot, and I swear I saw fumes escaping her nostrils. "What is Kian? Like your new best friend now? You can only share secrets with him? You know, I think I'm going to find somewhere else to sit at lunch today, because you're really pissing me off." Just like that Jennifer marched off into the hallway and turned the corner.

"Do you think I'm being unfair?" I turned to Molly, and she had that look. That look that said hurt-and-betrayed, hidden under a veil of civility.

"I...I really don't want to get into the middle of this, but yeah. We're your closest friends. Have been since...since forever. And you know if we ever knew anything we'd tell you. We don't keep secrets." Molly shrugged. "Give her time to cool off."

Molly walked away from me and disappeared down the hall. The bell would surely ring soon. But I stood there. Without my two best friends in the whole world. Alone. Why couldn't I tell them? Tell them what? That not a who, but a what may have killed Tommy, and that I may have seen angels outside my window at night...and oh, yeah, that I am in danger and Kian promised to look after me? And by the way, I didn't even know if I could trust Kian. That would blow over well. I could barely believe it myself.

Just then Dameon bumped into me from behind. My NOOK fell to the floor. "Damn it." I bent over to pick it up as Dameon reached for it first.

"Sorry." As he handed me the eReading device, his dark eyes mesmerized me. Didn't matter how many times I saw them. "I'll get you a new one if it's broken."

Flipping the NOOK over and back again, I examined it with my fingers. "No, I think it's fine." I blushed; I couldn't believe he was talking with me again. I mean, he should. He caused my NOOK to hit the ground. All my notes were on there. But still, something happened to me every time I saw him. My knees locked, my hands got sweaty and words jumbled around in my dizzy head.

"I'm glad. So, I couldn't help but notice that Jennifer stomped off from you a bit perturbed. Aren't you guys good friends?" He knew my friends! Maybe I wasn't as invisible as I thought.

"Ah, yeah." I shook my head. "We kinda got into a bit of a fight."

"Sorry again." His black leather jacket wrapped around him like skin around a cow. Frayed edges of black hair fell over his mysterious eyes. "Maybe you'll have room at your table for me then?"

I stood silent, almost paralyzed. Did he just invite himself to join me for lunch? "Ah, um...yeah. Sure. I'll make room for you." Who wouldn't?

"Good, I'll see you at lunch."

In English class I occasionally glanced back to check out Dameon. I thought going to class would cause my nerves to unwind from all the memories of Tommy outside on the ground, but Dameon proved to be a helpful distraction. Wanting him preoccupied me.

Whenever I craned my neck around to see him he would smile; half of his lip would go up and the other half remained flat.

"Allison, could you tell us?" Mrs. Engstrom loved to throw me a few curve balls every now and then.

"Ah, what?" My lids widened as I turned my head to meet her concentrated eyes.

"Who wrote Young Goodman Brown? Our reading assignment."

"Um...um..." I knew this one. I studied this. "Hawthorne?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Telling you, Mrs. Engstrom. Hawthorne." I sounded more sure this time.

Nodding, she took her glare off me and aimed it at someone in the back row.

***

At lunch, I sat with Molly and waited for Dameon. When I explained the situation to her, I expected that she would follow protocol. I scanned for Jennifer, wanting to apologize again, but I didn't see her anywhere. When I reached for the apple on my tray Dameon appeared behind me.

"Ali?" He slipped in beside me, and Molly cleared her throat before speaking.

"You know, I forgot I totally have to meet Kris. We are supposed to study together for our class quiz. Later." Standing, she waved and scurried off toward the doors that led outside. Some students preferred lunch on the lawn.

"So..." I bit the skin on the inside of my mouth.

"You sure shocked Mrs. Engstrom in class today! She thought she had stumped you. You weren't even paying attention."

"Yeah, well she deserved to be pleasantly surprised. I think she picks on me just because I talked back to her about calling me Ali."

With a laugh, Dameon brought his hand to his face to cover his mouth. Big, white teeth accentuated his already fine facial features.

"No really!"

"I believe you." He finished with a smile as he took off his leather jacket and laid it over his chair. A sexy pink skin-tight shirt hugged his sculptured chest.

"Not many men are comfortable enough to wear that color."

"I'm mature beyond my years." He sounded so suave, and yet I felt comfortable with him.

"And what makes you better than the rest of these guys at Millennium High?" I teased. He seemed like the kind that could take it.

"I've got great stamina."

"You do, do you?" I laughed with a flirtatious grin. I bit my apple while Dameon drank his milk, and I wondered why we hadn't been doing this the past three months. We felt so natural together. It was almost eerie, in a way.

"Maybe I'll get to prove it to you sometime." I blushed at his remark. I couldn't be sure if he meant with studies, kissing, or sex.

I'd only almost been with one other guy in high school. Christopher Ryne. He was a senior when I was a sophomore. We were doomed from the start, because what high school graduate wants to still hang out with a junior? Anyway, when I found out he would be going to Stanford University while I was set on Yale, I figured we'd better break up before one of us ended up hurt. We'd never see each other after he graduated, and he'd forget all about me. That summer after his graduation I heard he had hooked up with some girl already. I promised myself my junior year that I would not let my heart break again.

"Maybe you're gonna have to." I didn't know what I was saying. Thankfully, Jennifer interrupted with a pat on my back. I spun around to face her.

"I just wanted to say sorry for our argument earlier. I'm sure you'll tell me when you're ready. This has got to be hard on you, too." Her eyes glossed over Dameon.

"I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have been so..."

"Secretive?"

"Yeah. But I promise I'll talk to you later about all this."

"'Til then." Jennifer tightened the purse around her shoulder before stepping away from the table. "And I'm glad to see you're moving up in the world."

I blushed. I knew she meant Dameon would be a better catch then drama-filled Kian. I could also still sense a little rift between Jen and me. I'd have to confess something soon to her to keep her happy.

"What was that all about?" Dameon raised his chin and watched Jennifer head out the doors to the lawn.

"Our argument earlier."

"You kept something from her? Best friends don't like that." Soft cheeks inched closer toward me as I watched his plump lips move up and down in slow motion.

"No, they don't." I raked my hand through my hair tie and loosened my hair to dangle around my neck.

"So, you're going to tell her...that secret." His brows shot up as he smiled.

"Don't seem to have much of a choice. I don't want to lose Jennifer. I'll try to speak to her about it."

His face grew serious as I felt someone behind me, engulfing me. Craning my neck around, I eyed Kian. Only Kian, without his friends. He just stood there, his steady gaze fixed on Dameon like he was a bull at Pamplona and Dameon was a red cape. Seconds felt like minutes before I turned back around to face my lunch guest. Dameon eyed Kian up and down in this silent war.

The festive mood that Dameon and I had shared vaporized in microseconds under the Kian's shadow. Like a storm cloud, Kian ruined my lunch. Dameon stood his ground, but I never expected him to face off Kian.

"Guys, what's going on here?" I looked back and forth between the two as they locked on each other. It felt like they didn't even hear one word I said. "We don't need to fight over me...there is enough of me to go around."

"Quiet, Ali," Kian growled, and I wanted to smack him, but Dameon seemed to have me covered. He took a forceful stride forward toward Kian, their two heads almost butted somewhere in the middle. Their eyes were fixed on one another; stances were unrelenting on both sides.

"Seriously, you guys are acting strange!" I squirmed out from between the two angry figures and stood several feet away. Like opposing polarized magnets they seemed drawn and repelled by each other at the same time. Nothing around them in the lunch room warranted their attention. Not the tray that fell from a student's hand in line, spilling the entree. Not the crowd growing in number to form a circle around them. Not the bulky P.E. coach standing behind them.

"Come on, you two; break it up." The P.E. coach tugged on an arm of each.

"Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!" The crowd cheered in anticipation.

I stepped further backward, uncomfortable with all the testosterone. "Step away from each other and cool off!" Coach yelled at both of them, and when another teacher intervened, they each took one boy and pulled. It took two strong men to pull those two apart, and I just stood there with my mouth agape.

"What happened?" Mol and Jen rushed up behind me.

"I don't know. I was having a nice conversation with Dameon when Kian came up, and the two just fixated on each other."

"Maybe Dameon has a thing for bad boys," Molly teased.

Jennifer responded, "Eew! I didn't need that mental image in my head."

"Come on, you two; stop kidding around. This is serious. I don't know what happened."

"Looks like you've got to pick which one you want more." Molly clarified. "Before one of them kills the other."

But I didn't know what it all meant. Did they fight because of me? It sure felt like some deeper underlying issue between them. Heck, so deep it could have gone as far back as centuries! Whatever the reason, I felt more determined than ever to find out what. And if I had to choose between the two of them...well, Dameon won every time.

Then, the bell rang.
Decisions

By midweek I had grown impatient with the two new men in my life. When I leaned over Dameon's shoulder by our lockers, Kian would magically appear behind me, and I swear I heard him growl. Then Dameon would hiss. Like two rabid dogs! Whenever I walked with Kian down the hallways, Dameon would somehow get wind of it, and when we sat together at lunch, he would tell me how awful an influence Kian would be on me if I kept hanging out with him.

Then after the lunch bell rang, Kian would sneak up to me before my next class and warn me about Dameon's charms, that for my own good I had to stay away from him. They stayed at each other's throats constantly. I saw them scuffle in the halls on Tuesday before fifth period Journalism. But because of the fight they had on Monday they were not allowed to be seen in proximity at lunchtime. At least then I could have some sense of relief that they wouldn't kill each other, yet...

But I felt Kian's jealousy that I chose Dameon over him to sit with at lunch; his burning eyes beat on me through the glass windows from outside while he was sitting with Krysta and Nathaniel. Even Jennifer and Molly sat with them. Their threesome had become five, and I started to miss hanging with my girls at lunchtime. Why had I been given all this male attention all of a sudden, from two new students at the school? I hadn't had such luck with men at Millennium High before, and now, all of a sudden I had become the temptress. What had changed?

In English class I had managed to change my front row seat to the back row next to Dameon. Mrs. Engstrom hardly noticed. She still didn't even call me Ali, as I had requested countless times. I had to sit through hearing the chalkboard-scratching sound of Allison every day. Most of the class paid little attention to the teacher, instead, whispering to their neighbor, eye-balling and pointing to the window, texting. Mrs. Engstrom afforded the class a certain level of leniency she hadn't usually, because she knew some of the kids knew Tommy Bachelor personally. The principal had had a teacher's meeting Monday morning before school, I heard, telling all the teachers to go easy on the kids this first week back since the so-called suicide.

I felt grateful. If I hadn't had Dameon to draw my focus away from the window I probably would feel like a zombie.

"What did you do over the break?" I batted my lashes at him.

"Not much." He kept his sentences short. Since I had known him, I had never heard him say too much. I was supposedly getting to know him better with all this hanging out, and yet I didn't feel like I knew him at all. He still remained an enigma. "You?"

"Oh, hanging out with my girlfriends."

"Jennifer and Molly?"

"Yeah," I said with a beam of pride that he actually took time out of his day to notice me and who I hung out with. Then it dawned on me. Who did he hang out with? I had never seen him sit in the cafeteria at lunch before he started sitting with me. I had never seen him in a clique. He walked the hallways solo like James Dean.

I tilted my head in his direction, and my whole body leaned toward him as if gravity pulled me there. Stroking my fingers through my hair to pull the strands behind my ear I asked, "Do you hang out with anyone over the weekends?"

"I'll be hanging out with you this Saturday," he said with a silver glint in his eyes.

"Really?" I grinned mischievously. "I don't know. My Mom might have a cow; she is real strict."

I wore pink lipstick. I never wore make-up. But I wanted him to want me as much as I wanted him. He was worth it. Worth the extra ten minutes in front of the mirror each morning, the superficial coloring on my face. I had even added a splash of blush to my cheeks.

"I'll stop by 'round six?" His eyes were unreadable.

I shrugged, unsure whether Mom would allow this bold move.

Then the bell rang. Just as he headed out the door I tugged on his shoulder. "Don't you need my address?"

"Sure, hand it to me tomorrow."

"K...but what about lunch?"

"I've got something I have to do. See you later." He and his black leather jacket disappeared down the hallway of bobbing heads. He always left just as abruptly as he came into my life.

So at lunch I sat with Kian's clique. Not my first choice, but Jennifer and Molly sat there. They seemed comfortable enough, despite Krysta and the one ongoing rumor that the newbies smoked weed. If Jennifer could sit with them, I certainly could.

"Nice you could join us." Kian raked his fingers through his copper-blond hair while his eyes narrowed in a glare. "What, lover boy couldn't make it today?"

"Something like that." I sat beside them on the lawn with my legs crossed.

"What did you get?" Molly's nose hovered over my tray of food.

"Just the meatloaf."

"Yum, that stuff is so good!" Mol licked her lips, and Jennifer and I spent several seconds too long staring at her in that you've-got-to-be-kidding kind of way. "Well, it is." She shrugged and dug into her beef tacos.

"Mom not feeding you at home?" I teased, and Mol just rolled her eyes before returning her undivided attention to her food.

"So, what has everyone been up to?" I probed. At the very least, I should sound interested in my new friends. Nathaniel didn't seem so bad. And if Kian wasn't hell-bent on keeping Dameon and me apart, he might not be so bad either. Krysta was another story altogether.

"Maybe you'd know if you weren't so obsessed with Daemon," Krysta retorted, twisting her lip into a snarl.

"Well, I'm here now." I matched her eye-to-eye.

"Convenient. Are we your consolation prize?" Krysta argued further, and Kian kicked her with an out-stretched heel.

"Let us just have a civil meal."

"Agreed." Nathaniel nodded, his head lowered over his tray. But his skin still glowed like embers.

I desperately wanted to ask Kian what he meant on the rooftop that day when he said Tommy's death wasn't suicide. That a 'what' was responsible. I wanted to know how he knew that and what 'what' meant. What danger meant. And if he was looking out for me, why I never saw him except whenever Dameon was around.

But I couldn't just blurt out everything. I had to have my talk with Jennifer and Molly over the weekend first, catch them up with the latest details. I had to have time alone with Kian, without Krysta over my shoulder hanging on to my every word, or I'd never get a word in.

"What's on your mind? You look contemplative." Jennifer nudged me.

"Nothing. I'll talk to you about it this weekend," I responded in whisper.

"Maybe Sunday? I'm busy with my family Saturday," Jennifer told us.

"Sure. What do you say, Mol?" I asked aloud.

"What?"

"About coming over to my place Sunday?"

"I'm there. Make sure your mom cooks chicken." She winked.

Before we finished lunch, I pulled Kian aside. Dragging him behind a tree just feet away from the group, I did my best to look serious. Students scattered left and right behind the window. The bell would ring soon. Jennifer and Krysta kept a watchful eye on me.

"What?" Kian leaned against the tree, his disheveled hair blowing in the wind. For a micro-second I lost myself in his hazel eyes, and then I shook my head.

"I just wanted to be clear."

"Clear about what?"

"About me and Dameon. We're a thing."

"You're a thing now."

"Have been since Monday. And I'm not sure where this thing is going, but I want to give it a shot."

A grimace shot across his face. "I can't believe you're taking him seriously." His hands gripped my shoulders. "You can't be falling for him!"

"I am...and I just want to tell you that I choose him. I need you to stay out of our business."

"I see that nothing I say will change your mind."

"Nope."

"Well then. I respect your decision."

"Thanks."

"I'll stay out of your way," he said, his tone acrid, as the bell rang. But the twinkle in his eyes told me he didn't mean it.

The rest of my classes were uneventful, one big blur until I got to fifth. When the fifth period bell was about to ring, I darted into the Journalism classroom just in time. Noticing Nathaniel in the back row, I smiled as I slipped into my seat near the wall. I kept my focus on the teacher, Mr. Zimmerman, as he introduced us to a new student, Nathaniel Harbour, from Washington. Mr. Zimmerman was an older man with a balding head and spectacles, and I got the distinct impression he used to be cute when he was younger...like eons ago, but aging didn't do him justice. Adjusting my NOOK to the textbook for this class, I flipped open my assignment folder with the other hand.

"Is everyone ready to turn in their assignments?" Silence. "I realize under the recent circumstances some of you may need more time, and the deadline is extended until Friday, but I just wanted an idea of how many of you are ready."

About half the class raised their hands. I wanted to...desperately. I had never failed to turn in an assignment in any of my classes. I didn't want to start now. The debate waged war in my mind, whether or not I should write up what I had learned about Tommy's death. The possible murderer, Clark. His motivations. The lack of reason for suicide on Tommy's part. The strange silvery-black feathers found on the roof. (No, I'd have to leave that part out.) The newbies to the school and their opinion on the suicide. I could even incorporate Kian's statement. What'd he say? 'Not a who, but a what.' That would turn heads. I'd get an A for sure.

But I couldn't. Something inside nagged at me. Something did not add up. And I didn't want to go around accusing perfectly innocent people. There was a strong possibility that Clark had nothing to do with this. I didn't want to drag the notion of what the 'what' could be in Kian's statement. No, if I were to do this I would need more information. Besides, I couldn't be sure at all whether I still wanted to. Nathaniel had that look while shaking his head. He knew what I knew. At least, I thought he knew. He had paid attention on the roof.

"Ali?" Mr. Zimmerman quirked his brow and glared at me, disappointed.

"No, Mr. Zimmerman. I don't have it yet."

"Alright then, let us get back to our reading. Everyone turn to chapter twelve." The NOOKS, Kindles and a few other eReaders flipped on and fingers began scanning the various screens.

Before class ended, Zimmerman waved me to his desk. Standing above him as he sat in the wooden chair made me feel taller, more authoritative. But the moment he spoke I went back to feeling like a little kid.

"I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright."

"Yes, I'm fine."

"You just seem...distracted. And you don't have your assignment ready. That is not like you."

I stood speechless. "I'm sorry..."

"No need to be sorry, Ali." His tone sharpened. "There is a very good counselor at this school. She can help you through whatever it is you're going through. Tommy's death shocked us all."

"Ummm... no really, I'm fine. I'm just real busy."

"Are you sure?"

'Yeah." I nodded, spreading a smile of certainty across my face. In a way he had been right; my distraction did have to do with Tommy, but not in the way he concluded. Not in the way anyone concluded. Certainly not in any way a counselor could help me.

What I needed were more answers.

By the end of the day I had still not seen Dameon again. After first period, he had simply disappeared. As I was asking around, I ran into Sally Hoffe in the administration office. Short blond bob, grey eyes and a naive smile. Leaning over the counter, I gestured to her to come to me with a curling forefinger.

"Whatcha need?" Sally asked, eyes widening.

"I need to know what happened to Dameon. He vanished after English class this morning."

"He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"The office received a call from his father. His mother is deceased." She lowered her head as if in short prayer. "Seems his father needed Dameon to come home for a family emergency."

"Emergency! What kind of emergency?"

"Don't know. Father didn't say."

"Thanks." I turned around from the office counter, dejected that Dameon wouldn't have told me something, anything, before he left. I had thought we were making a real connection. But then, maybe he didn't have time. At least I wasn't being blown off.

"Say, why don't you just call him?" Sally suggested cheerfully.

"Dameon has a cell? He told me he didn't have one."

"No, not a cell. His home phone."

"I hadn't thought of that. I don't have his number though."

"Never mind, I'll get it for you." Sally rummaged through the files behind her and pulled Dameon's records. "Got a paper and pen?"

I yanked the items out of my miniature backpack.

"555-6037."

"Thanks, Sally. I owe you one."

"Not a problem. It's the least I could do after your brother Samuel helped us with that parking ticket." I held the paper with Dameon's home phone in my hands, and, as I had been struck with tunnel vision, everything else around me turned black.
Aftershock

After I tried calling Dameon for the third time Thursday I finally gave up. He hadn't answered his home phone yesterday evening either. Thursday lunch grated on my nerves. Since I had an-nounced my decision for Dameon, Kian kept quiet and only occasionally glanced up at me, look-ing like the weight of the world hung on his shoulders. The whole thing felt awkward.

So when I saw Dameon walk into the front doors of Millennium High on Friday morning, my heart skipped a beat. Swinging in behind him, the doors finally clicked shut, and everyone in the whole of the hallway turned to him as if his presence demanded their attention. I could feel a delicious heat radiating off his body. I wanted him even more, if possible.

"Dameon!" I scurried toward him, fighting the up-current of students flowing to their first class. "Where have you been? I've been so worried about you. Called you like a gazillion times, and you never picked up."

"Home phone?'

"Yeah."

"I wouldn't have. Wasn't there."

"What happened?"

He threw his arm around my neck, drawing me closer to him. He still wanted me, thank God, despite my clingy phone calls. My nose nestled between his shoulder and his lower ear, enjoying the fresh male smell of him. Like Swiss Chocolate, his temptation engulfed me.

We walked down the hallway like Sandy and Danny in Grease, with all the jealous eyes on us. I never felt higher; even weed couldn't make me feel this high.

"I...had to go away with my father. Emergency."

'"I know. I spoke with the front office. Everything Okay?"

"Sure."

I didn't want to press him on it, yet I still felt like I had gotten nothing out of him. How could he answer a question, without ever answering it? He did that all the time.

"So, you're not going to tell me what happened? You don't have to." I leaned into him; the feel of the soft leather over my arm felt warm. My long locks draped over my left shoulder and cascaded to my breasts.

His silence told me no.

When we got to first period, we walked hand in hand to our seats. I never felt such envy from so many girls. No one could be certain just what we all liked about Dameon. Or lusted? His bad boy image? The fact that he never took crap from anyone, not even football players or teachers? Or perhaps that he seemed so aloof. The fact that I got him, the first girl at this school to snag him, made me feel...well, important. Popular, even. Everyone talked about me. About what I wore; about what I did. Whispers quieted when I turned corners as eyes fell on me. Just what was it about me that Dameon liked so much? I wasn't the only one asking.

In the middle of Mrs. Engstrom's lecture, between us yawning and dropping our heads to our desks, Meredith Justin swung her silky blond hair from its ponytail and began combing. Stroking a stick of red over her lips, she puckered once before craning her neck back toward Dameon. Her freshly sprayed flowery perfume emanated from her supple neck, the kind of creamy-colored neck with such length and elegance that it reminded us all of a swan.

"Are you getting all this?" She fluttered her lashes, and her green eyes glittered with her smile. Despite her arrogance, she really could be charming and stunning. I fidgeted in my seat. How could she? The temptress! As I glared at Meredith, my eyes could have burned a hole right through her perfectly fitted pine-green sweater.

"Sure." Dameon looked up from his fix on me, and his eyes met Meredith's. This was it. The moment of truth. If Dameon could withstand her flirtations, he truly had a fascination with me beyond natural explanation. He handed her his Kindle with the notes without so much as really seeing her. It was as if he looked right through her. Usually guys went all google-eyed around her, but Dameon kept his cool. And as soon as he handed her his Kindle, he returned his stare to me. Good God, the guy really did like me! I couldn't explain it. No one understood it. But I didn't care; I'd take it. I'd wanted him since the first time I had seen him several months ago.

At lunch, I finally felt like Dameon and I had some real time to talk. Five-minute hallway runs didn't suffice, and classrooms offered no privacy. In his tight black jeans, he sat across from me at our usual table. A table cornered along the metal bars to the right of the cafeteria, acting as a barrier between it and the hallways and the chalk-white sidewall. With the halls empty, school couldn't get more private than that.

Setting my tray of spaghetti in front of me I sighed.

"Something wrong?"

"I just...nothing."

He shrugged with an 'explain yourself' expression.

"I just don't know much about you is all. Like where were you the past two days? How come you don't own a cell? Why did you move here? From where?" I could go on and on...like why do you always wear the same leather jacket? Or why do you detest Kian so much? Or what happened to your mother? But I didn't want to get too personal, and those few questions would suffice, for now.

Stone-black eyes hit me. He appeared to be twisted in agony. Hooking my fingers around the tray I anticipated his response eagerly. Then a harsh sharpening rounded his eyes.

"I don't have a cell because I don't need one. Don't know many people. We moved here from Washington because we had to get away from our old home. When Mother died everything changed. The emergency had to do with family funeral arrangements."

"Your mother passed?" I said as if I didn't know, because he should be the one to tell me, not the front office.

"Several months ago. Car accident."

"I'm so sorry." That explained a lot. Why he seemed so distant and emotionally closed off.

"Well, there you go. Happy?"

"I'm glad you opened up. I'm here for you. You can trust me."

"Trust me enough that I can come over Saturday night?"

"Yeah, I'll talk to Mom." How could Mom turn him down now? He needed me, and her, in his life. His own mother was killed in a car accident. Mom could empathize; her husband had died suddenly. Dameon needed a mother figure, and Mom would be perfect for him. Certain Mom would approve now, I was grinning as the bell rang.

By fifth period, I had exhausted my mind and was dizzy with ideas on how to come out of Journalism without receiving an F for an uncompleted assignment. Slinking into my seat, I sighed in protest.

"Ali Maney." Zimmerman hovered over me like my P.E. coach when he expected me to hit a ball harder than I could.

"I..."

"Ali and I are working on a project about the mayoral elections. We'll have the final results on Monday," Nathaniel interjected. He paid attention after all.

"Alright; I'll expect the assignment Monday then."

"Yes." Nathaniel nodded with certainty, like he'd done this a thousand times.

"Thanks." I whispered as Zimmerman moved away. I stopped biting the inside of my mouth. It was a perfect lie. The mayoral elections would not be concluded until after the weekend, and that gave us time to concoct a finished assignment. Why hadn't I thought of it?

All through Journalism I passed notes back and forth to Nathaniel. I hadn't written on actual paper in eons. Usually, notes were taken on eReaders or laptops. I crumbled the first note a bit in my hands as I laid it on his desk. Zimmerman had his back to us while he wrote on the white board, highlighting important facts from our reading assignment.

Taking the note in his hands, Nathaniel read.

Didn't Zimmerman say you were from Washington?

He scribbled something and passed the note upside down back to me.

Yeah, why?

Dameon said he came from Washington, too.

So?

So, don't you think it's odd...that you, Kian, and Krysta all come from Washington as transfers and Dameon also transferred from Washington?

He shrugged as his doe-eyed expression dropped. I shoved another note onto his desk.

Did you all know each other?

His usual bronze hue paled as he passed back another note.

No, we must have lived in different cities. Besides, Kian didn't really transfer from Washington.

He didn't? Where then?

He's from New York.

Why would he lie about it? He said you all were an adopted family?

Well, technically no. Krysta and I met him in New York after we left Washington. But the paperwork is in the mail. He is in the process of being adopted.

All of a sudden I became fascinated with Kian. The idea that he wasn't exactly who he said intrigued me. Not in the same way bad boy Dameon intrigued me, but in a way that left my curiosity spinning. I had just assumed they all three came to New York together. But there was more to the story. I grabbed Nathaniel's latest note just as Zimmerman turned around on his heel and hawk-eyed his class, as if he sensed suspicious activity. I held my breath. Minutes later, after ruffling through papers on his desk, he returned to the white board. I breathed.

Nathaniel read my inquisitive note...

So, he is from New York? And doesn't have any biological parents?

A forlorn expression crossed Nathaniel's face when he handed me the last note.

Yes and no. They died in a fire.

Amused that Kian had lived in the same city as me all our lives, I finally realized what Kian meant in the cafe when he said they were an adopted family. At first, the word 'adopted' didn't really sink in, between all the talk of stoners and loosely spilled words and my obsession with Dameon. It didn't really hit me that he had no parents. Kian lived on the difficult streets of New York with no real guidance other than maybe a foster family here and there. Then it occurred to me that Krysta and Nathaniel didn't know their biological parents either. Suddenly, I felt very sad for the newbies.

When the bell rang for sixth period I plopped into my Calculus seat. Mathematically inclined, the whole nerd-persona didn't work well for my popularity either. But somehow Dameon fixed that. More interested in sharing the latest news with my girlfriends than in derivatives and limits, I pulled out my cell and typed over my lap under my desk.

Jen and Mol,

OMG! Did you know that Kian's parents died? Can you imagine! How long has he been living in foster homes? Shuffled around? And he is from New York, too!? I know; I assumed he was from Washington, because Nathaniel is from Washington, and they all seemed like one family.

Ali

As I watched Mr. Gasper play with his dark mustache in front of the white board, several students raised their hands. Honors class. We all wanted to say the answer first. Except me. I couldn't get Kian out of my mind. Three transfers from Washington. All parentless, except Dameon apparently still had his father. One transfer from some another school in New York. And then Tommy dies, and I start seeing angels.

OMG! The angels came because of Tommy! I straightened my back in the chair. Because he died. Angels did that, didn't they? To try to console the living from loss?

A message vibrated on my phone.

Ali,

Duh. This is news to you? Where have you been? Oh, yeah, fawning over Dameon. Kian has told us all about his parents. About the fire and how it took him so long to just feel normal again. That is why he couldn't continue in his old school. Why he transferred here.

Molly

And then another one.

Ali,

I just don't get you. First you blow us off and then Kian...and now you are all fascinated. Which is it?

Jen

Why hadn't I known this about Kian? Was I really so blinded by Dameon that I hadn't even paid that much attention to my girlfriends or the newbies? Why did I all of a sudden care about Kian anyway? And then I had an Ah-ha moment. It was so obvious that I couldn't imagine why I didn't see it before. Clark wasn't an angel. I'd seen him around school for two years and he never did anything angel-like. I had been focused on the wrong guy.
Wings

When the bell at my front door rang Saturday evening, I expected Dameon. Mom had dolled up in her best attire, purple silk blouse and satiny black slacks. She had pinned her dirty blond hair up in a bun, but I wore my dark hair down. Racing to the door, I pulled the knob like my life de-pended on it. Freshly baked muffins and a rack of lamb sat on the dining table.

"Smells delicious." Dameon revealed a bouquet of flowers from behind his back.

"We didn't want to eat without you." In fact Mom had insisted, which was a good sign. As I placed the flowers in a vase my words competed with Mom's. "They're beautiful!"

We sat around the table, Samuel across from me and Mom across from Dameon.

"So, you go to Millennium High, too?" Samuel's thick brows rose over his inquiring brown eyes. With his hair finely trimmed around the ears, he could be mistaken for military.

"Yeah, for several months."

"You like it there?" Sam stabbed his lamb chop.

"It's alright. Got better when I started hanging with Ali though."

I blushed. Besides the senior who broke my heart, whose name I rarely mentioned anymore, I didn't have boys over to meet my family.

Mom poured us each a glass of milk. "Well, I'm just glad that you are such a nice young man. Ali has told us so much about you."

I had?

"It's nice to meet the both of you. I can see where Ali gets her good looks now." Dameon complimented Mom with a crooked grin.

"Ah, you're sweet! Dig in; the lamb is topped with fresh mint."

"To die for." Dameon practically salivated. He had never looked more famished.

"So, will you be taking my Ali to the Prom this year?" Mom asked with little inhibition.

"Mom!" I turned stark red.

"I don't know; do you think she'd go with me?" Dameon teased easily and made me feel less stupid.

Samuel took it upon himself to answer. "All she's been talking about is you this past week. I'm sure if you ask, she'd say yes."

"Thanks!" I whispered under my breath through gritted teeth, with a predatory glare aimed at my brother.

"You're welcome." He whispered with a wink.

"I hadn't actually put much thought into it before, but since it's on the table..." Dameon stood up and got on one knee as if he were about to present a marriage proposal. "Would you go with me to Prom?"

Grinning from ear to ear, my enthusiasm could not be categorized. I hopped up from my seat and hugged him so hard that I may have stopped his circulation at one point. "Yes, yes!"

Returning to our seats, we finished eating, and all the while I felt as if I were aglow. I beamed with joy like a neon light. Mom couldn't stop smiling, either.

"Thanks for a wonderful meal, Ms. Maney."

"You're so welcome. Stop by anytime."

"I'll see you all later. I'm heading back into the office." Samuel cleared his plate and stood. Dameon and I waved bye and then headed upstairs. Normally, Mom would have had the boy out of the house after dinner; she always had with what's-his-name. But ever since I told Mom about Dameon's misfortunes, she had a soft spot for him, and after the flowers and the romantic display at the dining table, she couldn't refuse us some alone time. Plus, I was one year older than I had been the last time I had a boy over.

Upstairs, my room was in shambles. Scrambling to hide the clothes on the floor into the closet, I directed Dameon to the foot of the bed where he could sit on the wooden chest, the chest where I kept all my memorabilia from Dad, from school, from what's-his-name. My past all bottled up into one chest. Who knew; I might actually enjoy sifting through it when I got older.

After pushing the last of my jeans over the closet floor, I managed to squeeze the door shut, turn with my back against the wall and smile. My hands still clasped the closet doorknobs.

"Come here." He waved to me and then tapped his hand on the chest beside him. I somehow glided across the room to the exact spot, as if it were marked with an X.

Leaning into me, he let his soft lips flirt with my ear lobe before caressing my neck. Goosebumps scattered all across my arms, and I felt a chill down my back. Ecstasy or anxiety? I felt like a fish out of water, my arms flailing about undirected. Then he turned into me, grabbed me with both arms, pulled me into his chest and let my head hang beside his as his lips pursued other options. My cheek, my eyelid, my chin. I rather liked the eyelid kiss. Too bad I didn't have a camera to mark this moment forever to keep in my chest.

I couldn't believe he wanted me out of all the prettier girls at Millennium High.

Uncertainty and nerves all rolled into one. When his long fingers scraped over my scalp, my silky hair fell between his fingers. Holding my head firmly in his hand, he leaned into my unpracticed lips and lingered for what felt like eternity. As he fiddled with my blouse buttons with his other hand, I felt the tip of his fingers caress the top of my breast, and took in a deep breath. Mom was just downstairs! I inched back to give myself room. If she walked in now...OMG!

"I'd better lock the door." I pulled away, his taste still on my lips, and padded to the door lock. Clink. "Okay, sealed."

"Great, now come back here." His raven eyes called me inside his tilting head. Grinning, I saw Dameon's mischievous nature as he leaned over my bed. With his back to sheets, his arms invited me into his space. A space I had longed for since he arrived. "I won't leave until I've kissed you at least fifty times!" he joked with a smirk.

"Keeping track?" With a hint of sarcasm, I flirted. I puckered my lips and closed my eyes and allowed myself to fall into him. Outlining his chest with my fingertips I wanted to dig in more. Unbuttoning his black shirt I found dark hairs over finely sculptured pecs. I wanted to sear his body with kisses, but Mom still cooked downstairs, preparing for Samuel's Police Banquet. She grilled chicken and steamed vegetables every year for the occasion. But more importantly, I didn't want to move too fast. Being the first time alone with him, I didn't want to come across as easy.

My dark tresses trailed over my cheeks and flowed onto his shirt. Like an ocean wave my hair cascaded. He played with my locks, twisting them in his fingers around and around as I braced myself up with one hand on the bed and the other on him. Lost in his cryptic eyes, I gazed into them like one gazes at the moon. Seen, but yet so far away and seemingly untouchable. A pointy smile crept onto his lips and a sharpened edge rounded his eyes.

I couldn't quite make out what his expression said. I'd only been with one other guy. What exactly did he want?

"I know what you are," I whispered. My body shook like boughs on the trees in a winter storm, and his skin grew cold. "You're an angel, aren't you?"

His dark eyes turned silvery, and his hands reached out to me.

"You came here to help the school through Tommy's death, didn't you?"

A transparent mist rose from beneath him, encasing his form.

"The newbies followed you here...'cuz they know, too. Don't they? I won't let them hurt you..."

In an instant his fingers pressed against my neck, wrapping around my throat. A cacophony of competing thoughts circled in my mind. His fingers grew tighter and tighter around my throat like a boa constrictor. I thought for one merciful minute that Dameon might be playing a game with me, but when I coughed, no air came out of my mouth. The pressure of his thumb over my esophagus made me nauseous. As reality dawned on me, the predicament of my situation grew dim. I couldn't speak, couldn't cry, couldn't yell. His legs fought to remain wrapped around mine, holding me down. A primal scream fought to surface, but nothing! I couldn't move...and I was running out of air.

It felt like we sat there for an immeasurable amount of time as I searched my brain to figure out why he was doing this. And when I looked closer, really close, I could see now his veiled amusement at the thought of killing me. Everything had been a ruse. I struggled back and forth just before he threw me over the bed and sat on top, his legs on either side of me with one hand still against my throat and the other beside my head. It didn't matter that he didn't cover my mouth; air grew scarce at this point.

My lips quivered as they turned cold, and my eyes widened as blackened wings sprouted from either side of him, ripping his shirt and jacket off his body. At first, just a few feathers emerged, and then a handful more at a time until a full set of wings appeared. A surge of energy coursed through his body. It felt to me like a bolt of electricity. He seemed stronger then, as if the taking of life from me gave him power somehow.

I tossed left and right, struggling, while my head craned back, searching for air, for any gap that might give me what I needed. A thin cruel smile broke his lips apart before he laughed; something sinister and chilling. Anger bubbled up from my chest and pounded in every part of me. Even my heart thumped louder. When I twisted my entire body around I finally broke free of his hardened clasp about my neck for just a second, long enough for a few desperate gulps of air.

The bed cover wrinkled below us as I scrambled forward. My hands clawed over the sheets toward the bed's edge. My feet lunged up and down in their attempt to escape. I could feel his body closing in over me. I tried to scream, but my lungs still didn't have enough air. Taking a few distressed breaths, I tumbled to the floor. His dark eyes peered above me. Hunched like a vulture, his black feathers ruffled as he watched me cower below him. My arms and legs carried me in a retreating back crawl as I kept my eyes fixed on his.

Everything happened so fast that it took a few moments to digest it and have my emotions catch up with my intellect. My heart jammed within my chest; the thump-thump, was the loudest sound in the room. As he stretched his arms out above him, his wingspan extended from one side of the bed to the other. I stood frozen, like a girl paralyzed by the threat of a poisonous snake. This strange reality churned inside my brain and made it hurt. Now when I looked at him, his eyes appeared empty. Not black like stone, but black like an abyss.

A few more deep breaths, and I felt reasonably good again. Only the painful bruise around my neck proved what he had done. His lips curled arrogantly as I rasped, "Why are you doing this?"

Silence.

He still remained a young man, angel...or whatever he was, of few words. No words at times. This being one of those times.

Then Mom broke the silence. Her voice was like a beacon of light as it shot into my room from downstairs. "You two okay in there?"

I'm sure her curiosity and urge to protect her daughter from premarital sex motivated her. If she only had known how much trouble I stepped into tonight!

Both of our heads jerked in the direction of the door, and my mouth opened to scream. But Dameon acted quickly, faster than I had ever seen anyone move, even football players. Diving forward, he slammed into me, knocking the air out of my lungs. Gasping, I fell again to the carpeted floor. As we twisted on the floor, his hand wrapped around my throat again. This would be it; it would all be over soon. I couldn't break away from him again. Not this time. I felt too weak. He had too much strength.

A funny thing happened with death staring at me in the face. My entire life flashed before my eyes. I regretted not spending more time with Jennifer and Molly the past week. I wanted to get to know the newbies better. Perhaps this is why they followed Dameon to New York. They had discovered his secret, that he turned into some kind of demon. This is what Kian meant when he said to stay away from Dameon, when he warned me my life would be in danger. Why didn't I listen?

As I hung teetering between life and death, I vaguely made out the silhouette of a white-winged angelic creature standing behind Dameon. His eyes glowed amber like a golden sun. His arms reached around Dameon's neck and yanked Dameon backward off of me. The lack of oxygen made me so dizzy that I knew I was on the verge of fainting. I thought to myself, maybe I had imagined the white angel, but when Dameon hit the floor, I began to feel relief. Air filled my lungs again. I lay on my side soaking up the air while I watched two sets of wings, one black and one white, roll around my room.

They crashed into my dresser, and the noise elicited another shout from Mom. "What are you two doing up there?" I heaved for more air. No strength to answer.

Tumbling backward, the white-winged creature kept his arm locked around Dameon's neck. Tossing from side to side, Dameon tried to shake my defender from his tight hold. But the white angel-esque form did not retreat. Then Dameon hit him with a quick sharp elbow to the side, and the white-winged form let out a painful gasp. Dameon spun around, breaking the clutch.

Each stumbled to either side of the room, with stark eyes fixed on one another. A quavering, vibrating sound permeated from each angel-thing's mouth. They fought like birds, trilling at one another. Black wings puffed at one end of the room and white wings huffed at the other end. Wings flitted up momentarily from both before their sudden charge brought them to the center of my room. Reminding me of bulls, they hit dead-center with a loud thud and clasped their hands over each other's biceps, spiraling around, knocking into everything as they fought.

"I'm coming up now. You kids are making too much racket," Mom roared as I heard her stepping up the stairs. In an instant, the two angel forms swept to the window and flung themselves out into the night air. The night outside my window was no longer serene; it became savage. The two circled each other, and the memory of the two angels fighting outside my window earlier came to my mind. I hadn't imagined it! They had fought there, one black-winged and one white-winged.

Under the moonlight, they struggled now in some sort of angelic dance before they disappeared.

Knock, knock, knock.

I slapped my hand against the closet knob and pulled myself up. A mix of shock and weakness kept me moving slowly toward the door. When I unlocked it, Mom pushed in, took one look at my room and gasped.

"What the hell happened in here?"

I couldn't very well tell her, so I yanked my shirt up over my neck. Signs of bruising would bring Samuel and the entire police department after Dameon. That could lead them to my rescuer. I didn't want that. Besides, Dameon surely could do more harm to Samuel than Samuel could do to Dameon. I didn't know what kind of powers he had, but I did know he wasn't human.

"Where is that boy Dameon? I've got a few things to say to him."

"I don't know. We were dancing, and when he heard you coming up, he got scared about the looks of the trashed room and jumped down the tree out my window." We stared at the open window until Mom made a point to look up and down the sidewalk.

"You expect me to believe that? I was seventeen once, you know. By the looks of things you two really got into your...dancing. Now, I know you like this boy and all." Mom sat on the bed, looking me straight in the eyes. I swallowed hard. "But I will not allow Dameon to step foot in this house again. And I'm not too keen on you two going to Prom together, either."

"I understand. And I promise I won't be hanging out with him anymore." If she only knew! Thank God I didn't have to explain to her how we broke up!

"Good." She closed the door after kissing me on the cheek. "See you tomorrow." I was so shaken that I checked the lock on the window twice and drew down the curtains before I curled up under my covers shivering.
Luminescence

I could have been dreaming as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes Sunday morning. A pair of white wings flitted like floating cotton at the foot of my bed. Batting my lids, I refocused. The vague image became clearer. Pushing myself up, I gasped as my back hit the headboard. My eyes never moved from the form, and slowly the image at the foot of the bed inched onto my floor. Standing, or maybe hovering, I watched, unable to take my eyes off of him.

Deep amber eyes stared back, so familiar. Copper blond hair dressed his forehead in such regal elegance that I nearly swooned. When I rubbed my eyes again, vapor swiveled about me, and when the fog cleared, only a young man stood there.

Peering into his hazel eyes I asked, "Kian?"

He didn't say anything at first; like a ghost caught in my mind, he simply hung there.

"Kian?"

Stepping toward the bed, the figure laid his hands over my shoulders and his face became very clear. I could see the freckles on my cheeks in the reflection of his amber eyes. "Yes, Ali." His words echoed through my ears like a dream, not sure whether this really happened or if I just needed to wake up. I shook my head and batted my lids again. "It's me, Kian."

"But...but how? Who...what are you?" I struggled to find the right words as the luminescence of his skin shone like diamonds. Could there be any right words? Could an angel really be standing in front of me, disguised as a human? A stoner newbie?

His soft blue jeans met my bed as he sat on the sheets. Eye to eye with him, I took in a deep breath. He exhaled, and like the fog I had seen around me many times lately, a mist blew from his nostrils and floated between us.

"Not here."

I searched his expression for more clarity.

"Get dressed," he told me, "and I'll explain everything."

I could not peel my gaze away from him, from his soft skin, effervescent presence and telling eyes. Why hadn't I seen him, really seen him, before? Why had I been drawn to the darkness, to Dameon? These thoughts circled my mind as I threw on a pair of jeans underneath my nightgown. Spinning around, I stared at him, and I was hooked. Turning away from me, Kian blushed briefly before my eyes caressed his squared back and toned arms. Suddenly, he didn't seem like the same person. Then again, he wasn't a person, was he? I tossed on a t-shirt and a salmon colored sweater as the seconds of silence seemed too long.

Stepping to the window, he pushed the glass frame open with his left hand, while his right hand invited me into his presence. I stood there, silent and stunned for a brief moment before he waved his hand again, his eyes calling me to him.

"Where are we going?"

"Some place where we can talk in private. Somewhere where I can show you what is going on."

I wondered what he meant by private; after all, just the two of us stood in my room. Then he answered my question without me asking.

"Your mother and brother could hear us."

Wrapping his right arm around my waist, he pulled me against his chest, and we floated outside the window. I almost screamed. At first, I felt as if I would fall, and panic ensued. Heart palpitations quickened as I adjusted to the airborne movement, the lack of ground below my feet. But as his elegant white wings projected about him flapping up and down, I felt elevated like a queen on coronation day. He would not let me go. He had saved me from Dameon. I could trust him completely. I then became aware of Kian's well-developed arms, muscles that held me and kept me from falling. The vanilla scent from his skin made me want to breathe in everything about him as the view above the city emerged. This experience could not be replaced by anything, perhaps not even by a good date at Prom. A date which would no longer be Dameon. Roofs belonging to apartment buildings squared off the streets. Towers even looked small. Cars below us rushed to traffic lights as they shrank into negligible sizes. The house I called home became a speck the further we flew into the sky. I felt like a bird as the city below slowly vanished.

I had so many questions, but with the gusts of wind slapping my face and the distractingly dangerous height, I couldn't focus on anything but where we were...in the clouds. And I wasn't dreaming. Kian flew. He had fought Dameon in my room, with both of them appearing to be angels, and he had protected me. He protected me now. I could feel that warmth, that sincerity vibrate off of him and engulf me like the fog that had engulfed me on the bench in the park. That had been Kian watching out for me. And now I knew from what...Dameon.

As we landed behind a building on Eagle Lake, Manhattan, all my questions returned. Thump! Kian's frame hit the ground softly, with the ease of a feather. Amber eyes glowed, and I couldn't keep quiet any longer. Words burst out of me, and then just flowed.

"Where are we? How did you get into my room? Why is Dameon trying to kill me? Who killed Tommy?"

"One question at a time, Ali." Kian winked and raked his fingers through his tousled hair. He placed his hands over my shoulders, and I stepped backward against the wall of the building. We lingered there for a minute or two, just staring, just breathing, just taking each other in. I felt like I saw him for the first time with my back against the brick. Closing my eyes, I breathed in as if this reality would slip away from me like a dream I could awake from, and then I opened them just as he answered.

"We are at my home."

"You mean where you, Krysta, and Nathaniel stay?"

"Yes." His answer only demanded more questions, like, who are your adopted parents? Are they like you? And how did they find the three of you? Are all three of you like angels? But I wanted to stick with the first few for now.

"I got into your room the same way I transform into my angel form. There is a period between human and angel where we become mist."

"You mean not angel and not human, but mist?"

"Something like that. It is a transitory period. All angels can do it. As mist, I can travel through the cracks between your window frames."

I could only stare.

"Dameon...is not like me. Not like Krysta or Nathaniel."

"You mean not an angel."

"You could call us that. Though our leader calls us Angelfire. We are born to protect the city. But Dameon...he is a different creature altogether."

"A demon?"

"Something like that. A demon is really anything that feeds off the darkness. But the form he takes is that of a Dark Angel."

"A Dark Angel?" I grabbed my head, dizzy. "You mean, not only do angels exist in New York, but demons exist, too?"

"You could say that."

"And he...Dameon killed Tommy, didn't he?" My face wrinkled with anger.

"Yes, well, technically his gang. Dameon made sure he had an alibi when Tommy fell. In the English classroom," he said simply.

I slipped to my knees with those words. "He knows where I live, where my mother and brother live." I covered my face with my hands. "I've brought a murderer to my home, to my family. Oh, God!" I started to hyperventilate.

With Kian's hands on mine, he lifted my face up to meet his and wrapped his fingers around my arms, pulling me up until I stood straight.

"Dameon doesn't want your family. He wants you."

"Me? Why? Why is he trying to kill me? Why did he kill Tommy?" I tried not to sound hysterical, but it's not every day you find out the paranormal is hunting you.

"Because Tommy discovered us, discovered Dameon. Because you now know. I tried to keep you from the truth. I tried to protect you from your investigations. But you just kept digging."

"It was you who rumpled through Tommy's papers and Kindle at my house. You took them from my room?"

"Yes, I had to. You were getting too close."

"But why? Why must you keep this a secret? Why must Dameon kill me for this secret?"

The sun shone over his skin, his hair, and he illuminated like a jewel. "Because, Ali, when a human discovers our existence, we lose power. Dameon felt himself losing power every day. To gain the power back, the human who knows the truth has to die. Then the knowledge dies."

"God." I brought my hand to my neck and remembered what Dameon had tried yesterday.

"The Dark Angels expedite this process by killing the humans who discover the truth."

"And...the Angelfire?" My voice cracked.

"We try to bring the humans into our fold, to help us in the war against the demons."

The alley behind the building grew quiet; only the wind brushing past us made a sound in my ears. My hands shook.

Encasing my hands with his, Kian tried to encourage me. "Don't be afraid, Ali. I'm here for you. That is why I was born. To protect you."

I fell against his chest, and he held me for what felt like eternity. He pushed the back door of the building open, and I could only hear the padding of our feet as we walked up the winding staircase, and then the door slammed with a bang.

"And Krysta and Nathaniel...they are here to protect, too?"

"Yes, we all are. All of us with white wings."

The staircase ended and a lavish hardwood-floored room opened before me. Expensive paintings by Van Gogh and Gustav Glimt, among others, decorated the walls. Statues in the shape of human figures stood at each corner. A black grand piano sat in the center of the room under a crystal chandelier.

I didn't know what kind of world I had gotten myself into, but walking in with Kian at my side felt....safe, right.

"How did you...I mean, when did you become an angel?" I fumbled with my words as I plopped onto the piano bench. Sitting beside me, caressing the black and white keys with his long fingers, Kian played a sweet and at times, eerie melody.

"When a city grows in evil, sin, darkness, whatever you want to call it, angels are born to balance the power, to protect those in need."

"Like out of thin air?" The tune continued as he spoke.

"No," he shook his head, his fingers moving across the keys like a professional. "When an accident in the city occurs, killing an entire family, sometimes the youngest is spared and the spirit of an angel is breathed into the human form." He looked at me, pausing his tune for just a moment, "This usually occurs with infants, or one-year-old babies. But sometimes this gift is given to a child of more years. Depends on the needs of the city and availability of human forms."

"So, your family died and you...you were given the spirit of an angel?"

"Something like that." His fingers hit the keys as his mind wandered to the past. "The car swerved off the road, skidding into a tree. My father was dead on impact." His eyes closed. "The car exploded and burned. My mother died several minutes afterward from asphyxiation. I saw a warm light enter the windshield and wash over me. I sat in the backseat baby chair, crying until the ambulance arrived. I was called a miracle, and, because I had no other living relatives, they put me in an orphanage. I was shuffled to different foster homes and never felt like I belonged. So, at twelve I ran away. I lived on the streets for about five years, until Sammael found me."

"Your adoptive father?"

"Yes, also an angel."

"Did you ever sense you were something more growing up? An angel?"

"I could do things others could not do and I started to present wings at sixteen. But I didn't know why. I just thought I was some sort of freak. Then I learned to hide them."

"Then Sammael taught you who you really were?"

"He taught me everything about the angel world."

"So, you are new to the angel world too?" I felt not so alone anymore.

"I guess I am."

"Krysta and Nathaniel?"

"Krysta's parents and one brother were murdered. A robber came to the house and stole the family's jewels. When the mother awoke, she tip-toed downstairs, saw the robber and screamed. Krysta's father and brother rushed downstairs to her. Krysta sat quietly in her crib upstairs the whole time. It took the robber seven seconds to murder her entire family. Then he left with the jewels. Soon afterward, the spirit of the angel entered her. She also had no other living relatives and so Sammael took care of her."

"My God, I can't even imagine how horrible that must be!" I had only lost my father, and that felt bad enough. It crushed me the day he died.

"Nathaniel lost his parents when they traveled to Asia. Plane crash."

"Are there only the four of you?"

His song sounded more haunting now, the higher keys yielding a sharp pitch. "No, there is one more in the house with us. Jacob, you will meet later. And there are others in the city. Some older and living alone. Some younger and with a living relative. Most of them already know who they are, as Sammael has made his acquaintance with them, but the truth is kept a secret from their relatives. And some do not know who they are and won't until they are ready."

"A city of angels." I comment under my breath as Kian slowed his fingers over the keys and turned to me.

"This must never be made known to any of your friends or family." His eyes beat over me like heat from the sun. "If they ever found out, their lives would also be put in danger."

"No, I would never say a thing."

He stood, taking my hand as he guided me toward a wide oak door. "I know I can trust you." I'm not sure why, but at that moment his lips stood out to me like fine red wine I had to sip, and yet couldn't savor.

"Why did Krysta and Nathaniel come here, to New York? To you? Why not just stay in Washington? Nathaniel told me in Journalism." I confessed.

"Sammael sensed Dameon's movement. When he left for New York, they had to leave, too. They have to keep a close watch on their target. He is one of the more dangerous Dark Angels."

"One of the more dangerous?"

"His real name, his angel name is Apolloin. Stands for Angel of Destruction."

"You all have angel names?"

"Yes, we do." I wanted to ask him his real name and how Dameon became a Dark Angel, and what exactly were the rules of being angel and what kind of powers he had, but he pushed the oak door open and we entered a crimson-colored room where I saw Krysta, Nathaniel, and who I could only imagine to be Sammael. When Sammael's white eyes met mine, his white brows rose and I lost my breath.
Rooms

"You brought her here!" Krysta threw her hands into the air like an Italian mobster about to strike. Rushing toward Kian and me, she looked as hot as a bolt of lightning. Hot red. "You know she didn't fully see us yet! This could have stayed under wraps."

Kian stopped her ranting with an outstretched arm. "No, Krysta. Dameon paid her a visit yesterday." Krysta's expression grew grave and her luminescent skin lost part of its glow.

"Oh, God!" Sammael responded. Although he still stood several yards away from me, he looked in deep concentration in our direction. Nathaniel kept quiet, but watched everything.

Kian exploded. "He tried to strangle her to death!" Veins throbbed under his neck and forehead. "If I..." he shook his head, "If I hadn't been watching her, who knows what he could have done!"

"I'm so sorry." Sammael glided across the tiled floor to where I still stood, frozen in awe. As he took my hands into his, he felt warm. "I never intended for this to happen to you. Our responsibility is to keep humans out of this feud between angels and demons."

"I..." I tried to formulate my circling thoughts. "I don't understand. I mean, Kian explained to me how and when angels are formed...but how do demons exist? How do creatures like Dameon exist among the human world unknown?" The reality rattled my brain like a car engine in need of some serious oil.

Sammael sighed, and then his white eyes swelled as if he would cry. Glancing once at the floor below him, his grey-silver tunic flowed over him, and then he turned his head toward me. "You'll see, Ali."

He knew my name, which meant Kian spoke to him about me. I felt conflicted about that, glad Kian talked about me, that I was on his mind, and yet curious to know what he said about me, like all these words lay in secret behind my back.

"Not all those who are chosen to be angels stay angels. Some of us, for whatever reasons, decide to go toward the darkness, to relish the power there. At times, the darkness can seem to have more power than the light. This illusion causes some angels to...how do you say...defect, in a way."

"So, Dameon...he is a defected angel."

Laughing at the double meaning of the word, Krysta retorted. "Yes, he is. He has left us, and he is riddled with flaws." I joined in with a giggle as she flicked her blond curls from her shoulders to behind her back.

"Laugh as you must," Sammael warned, "but don't be fooled, Ali. Dameon is a powerful demon, and he will stop at nothing until you are dead and he has regained his power."

"But why did he even pay me any attention in the beginning? Before Tommy even died? Before I even started investigating his death? I didn't even know Dameon or Tommy," I wondered. I enjoyed being with Kian, now that I knew who he was and what he was trying to do, but I wanted my life back.

Sammael scratched his white head of hair and answered. "Dameon got a fix on you early on when he moved to New York. He sensed your sensitivity toward him and knew he could use that to his benefit if he ever had to. After Tommy died, he needed to stay close to the humans who were drawn to him...to keep your enemies close, as they say. And then you began investigating Tommy's death. Each step only brought you closer to the truth, and eventually Dameon sensed you would find it."

Kian interjected with an angry curl of his lip. "Dameon tried to kill you yesterday because you realized angels lived among the humans. You sensed angels were somehow involved with Tommy's death, and you saw me once..."

"In the reflection of the Kindle." I finished.

"Yes." Kian nodded, and his amber eyes felt like a warm blanket on my skin. "You even saw me fighting Dameon in the skies some time ago...in angel form. All this knowledge, each piece of knowledge deteriorated our powers." He placed a hand on my shoulder and stared me in the eyes, and I didn't want to ever have to look away from him.

"The demons are the first to lose power. They begin to lose their gifts. But the Angelfire has felt the shift of power too. We aren't as strong as we once were, because of what you know."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." I reacted with chills.

"Not your fault," Kian said short and plainly. "But now you know the truth."

"And the more humans who know the truth," Krysta warned, "the weaker we all become, demon and angel, and the more dangerous life will become for those humans."

I hadn't seen this side of Krysta, the one of serious concern for my well-being. It startled me.

"Well, if all this is true...then shouldn't I just leave now? Why show me more? Why reveal more to me by answering my questions? Won't more knowledge simply cause all of you to become weaker?"

Shaking his head, Sammael answered with a pondering expression. His eyes searched somewhere behind me, as if I didn't stand in front of him. "No, you see, the only knowledge that really matters in the shift of power is the one that reveals our existence. Second to that knowledge is the awareness of who the angels and demons are.

We all lost power when you realized angels existed in this city. And I don't mean just considered the possibility, but possessed real knowledge in that regard, eye-witness accounts, physical details and facts. When you found the black feather on the roof, Dameon felt a surge of power leave him. When you brought Tommy's Kindle and papers to your house and weeded through them, we all felt a shift. When you saw Kian in the reflection of the Kindle. When you saw Kian and Dameon outside your window fighting in angel form. All of these instances weakened the supernatural life, weakened Kian and Dameon, because they drew you closer to the knowing of angel-demon existence, to knowing who Kian and Dameon really are.

But in your room when you saw Dameon become his Dark Angel form, his identity had been revealed, and he lost even more power. He fought hard to kill you and wouldn't have left until the deed was done if Kian hadn't been there."

"So, now because Kian saved me and I know what he is, what all of you are....you all have lost power too?" I sounded defeated.

"Yes." Sammael answered with kind eyes, even though I had brought so much mayhem to their secret world.

"If I had just left it alone!" I shook my head, angry at myself. "Why couldn't I have just let the cops handle Tommy's death?"

"Don't beat yourself up." Kian defended me like a hero on a horse.

"Yes, go ahead." Krysta encouraged my volatile emotional state. "It is nosy humans like you who get us all into trouble."

"Don't say that, Krysta!" Nathaniel spoke up for the first time in the crimson room. Looking around I noticed the walls had the same coloring as the tiled floor, and the room was as empty as the first, with exception of the bookcase behind me. "Ali didn't mean any harm." His squared shoulders stood firm, like a soldier as he met with Krysta head to head.

"And yet, here we are. Weaker everyday," Krysta fumed. "Millennium High sure has its share of trouble makers." Krysta glared at me.

"You mean more than Tommy and me?" I thought back to the sporadic suicides over the years which Millennium High had become known for.

"Yes, Ali." Krysta rolled her eyes and reminded me of Molly. Hot-tempered. "Every year it seems that someone pokes his head into none-of-his-business affairs."

"Enough." Sammael yanked Krysta from behind as she drew closer to me with each word. "Let Kian and Ali work this out between themselves."

"Fine." Krysta stomped her foot as she gritted her teeth before she spun around and marched out of the room through a mahogany door in the back.

"I'm apologizing for Krysta's behavior." Sammael took my elbow and guided me to the bookcase. "She is easily aggravated."

I wanted to say something smart-ass about Krysta, but then remembered that her family had been murdered, leaving her alone to the adoption agency. Probably explained a lot of her hostility. "Has she always lived with you, Sammael?" I cocked my head toward him as we walked forward.

"Yes, for as long as she can remember, anyway."

"The adoption center must love you. Always picking up strays," I joked.

"Well, two strays in Washington state and one in New York. The agencies are state-wide, not national...so they wouldn't even be aware I have three children."

"Still, you must be considered some kind of hero." We stepped in front of the bookcase.

"Perhaps, but I don't communicate enough with the human world to know." Waving his fingers over the binding of the books on the shelves, he changed the subject.

"Take what you need to learn what you can. Now that you know we exist, we need you on our side, working with us, to help defeat Dameon and the others."

"The others?" I jumped backward, my face contorting into something fearful, I'm sure.

"Yes, there are more demons than merely Dameon. But let Kian explain all this to you. I have got to get going."

"All right." I said slowly as I watched his back draw further away from me; his slippers padded on the tile softly before he left through the same mahogany door. When the door clicked closed, the room grew quiet, and Nathaniel fidgeted before turning to Kian.

"I'll leave you two alone and check on Krysta."

When Nathaniel disappeared, Kian rubbed his fingers over a book in black binding. As he pulled the book from the shelf, I could see that the cover had chalk-white sketches of ugly looking creatures. Demons, I imagined. "There are all sorts of demons. The most prevalent in New York are the Dark Angels. I imagine they use this form because most people associate angels with goodness, so if ever discovered, they can more easily hide their true intentions."

"What are their intentions?" I squirmed.

"The more chaos and evil they create, the more power the darkness possesses."

"So, they try to cause harm?" I needed details.

"They can't cause harm themselves or they lose power. They must influence humans to cause harm."

"But how?"

"By retaining human form and being a negative influence. By influencing dreams, or whispering into the ears of humans about what they want done."

"Then why did Dameon try to kill me? Wouldn't he have lost power by causing a human harm?"

"Yes, but not as much power as he would have gained." Kian flipped to the back of the book and showed me a set of rules outlined in black and white. "There are primarily eight rules angels and demons must live by."

Rule 1) If an angel or demon physically harms a human, he loses 'Gift Power'.

Rule 2) If an angel or demon is intimate with a human, he loses 'Wing Power'.

Rule 3) If an angel or demon is discovered by a human, he loses 'Essence Power'.

Rule 4) If an angel leader or demon leader is discovered by a human, the entire flock loses Essence.

Rule 5) If an angel leader or demon leader is killed, the entire flock under him will lose all power.

Rule 6) If an angel is dying, he may transpose his wings to a human, giving his Essence and Gifts.

Rule 7) If a demon kills humans, forfeiting his Gifts, he will develop fangs.

Rule 8) If a demon is intimate with humans, forfeiting his Wings, he will develop fur.

"What do those powers mean?" I squeezed my forehead in confusion.

"Gift Powers are abilities all angels and demons possess. Dameon has the ability to create fire from his hands. When he tried to harm you, some of that ability dissipated. He took a great risk trying to kill you. By failing, he exposed himself to a human and lost some of his essence, and in turn, he also lost some of his gift. But if he had succeeded, he would have only lost some of his ability to create fire. He would have regained the Essence Power he had lost each time you stepped closer to our discovery."

"What is Essence Power?" I sat on the floor with my legs crossed, taking all this in. It felt like it would take weeks, but I only had today. I had to return to school tomorrow.

"It is like our lifeline. Without it, we would cease being angel or demon. Every time a human takes some our Essence Power away we weaken." He sat across from me.

"So, by me knowing what you are...I am killing you?" Wrinkles formed crevices on my forehead.

"I'm not dead, am I?" Kian gleamed as if everything would somehow be fine. "I'm just weaker than I was, say a month ago." He chuckled. "And not just me, but Dameon, too. The playing field is still even. Besides, human awareness doesn't kill us per se, just our supernatural form. I would simply become mortal."

"So, if enough humans ever found out about this...this supernatural world..." My shoulders rolled forward as I hunched and grabbed my temple, trying to keep the facts straight.

"Yes, we would all cease to exist....as angels." He rubbed his fingers together and waved them into the air. "Current angels would become like dust...it's possible more wouldn't even be born."

"So what can I do to help?" I rolled my shoulders back and took in a deep breath. The lighting of the crimson room felt heavy on me.

"Dameon is the Dark Angel of Destruction, and like other Dark Angels or demons he reports to a leader...the same as we report to Sammael, the angel of souls."

"Who?" Or perhaps I should have said what.

"Azrael." Kian flipped the book open to angel-demon pictures with descriptions and names. "His name means Angel of Death." Kian's long forefinger pointed to the name Azrael in the book. The sketched image was only that of a mere man with dark, elongated wings stretching from one side of the page to the other. His red eyes and the ominous fog that surrounded him denoted him evil.

"So, Dameon follows his orders?"

"Pretty much. If we destroy Azrael, then the entire Dark Angel population would cease to have power. We will essentially have won this war in Manhattan."

"Then why don't you?"

"Because finding him is nearly impossible. It's the reason Sammael also hides from the human world, from the demon world. If a demon ever killed Sammael, all of us under him would be rendered powerless."

"How do you mean?"

"We would lose our gifts, our wings, our essence. We would cease to exist as angels and become mere humans."

I tried to imagine Kian, Krysta, and Nathaniel as mere high school students at Millennium High. How different my life would be now if Tommy's death had been a simple suicide, if there is anything simple about suicide, and if I didn't have a demon hunting me down, a demon I once thought I loved, thought I would sleep with. OMG! I grabbed my chest as I felt a sharp pain stab my heart.

"You still haven't explained to me how I can help."

"Well, the demon world knows of you and knows you're the reason Dameon is weaker. Dameon will try to kill you again, Ali." My hands hugged my throat.

"Don't worry...everything will be fine." Kian tried to be encouraging, but I could tell he didn't even fully believe it. "We can use this to our advantage."

"How?" I shrugged.

"By using you as bait...as something they want. We can set a trap that will draw Dameon out and wound him enough to aim him straight back to Azrael."

"Won't Dameon just show up at the school? Why not take him there?" I reasoned.

"Too much exposure. He wouldn't risk it, and we wouldn't risk it. Too many human eyes."

I glanced at my watch. "It's getting late. Mom is going to worry about where I am. I should be getting back. I will see you at school?" I stood and dusted off my jeans.

"Your life is in danger, Ali. Don't you get it? You can't just go back home. Dameon will be looking for you there." Kian nearly bit his tongue.

"What! I can't go back home? Mom would go crazy with worry! I would go crazy living inside this building all day! I'm going home." I spun away from him.

"No, you can't, Ali." Kian grabbed my shoulder as I turned to the oak door to flee across the hardwood floors and down the iron winding stairwell.

"I'm going." I had never said anything more sincerely. I couldn't do that to Mom. Make her worry about me constantly. She had enough on her mind since Dad's death.

"Then I'm going with you. I will have to keep watch on you wherever you go."

"Then you'd better pack your school bags, because I'm hitting Millennium High tomorrow."

"Don't you see this is a death wish?"

"You said yourself that the school has too many human eyes. Dameon wouldn't try anything there. That would be angel-demon-suicide. Besides, I need to see my friends and get an education. I do have a future to look out for, you know. And Mom would never let me just stay home and skip.

"All right." Kian's red cheeks had faded. "You're right. You have to live your life. But you must never -NEVER- be alone. I must be with you every minute of every day, or you might just die. Dameon will be waiting for that one moment, that one chance to end your life, to take back the power you took from him.

Kian raked his fingers through my brunette hair. "He has done it once already."

"Tommy?"

"Yes. Dameon went to a kind of graduation ceremony with Azrael after he murdered Tommy. A graduation of sorts for his first kill. Now he is officially a member of the Dark Angels."

"You mean the supposed funeral arrangements for his mother?" I realized.

"Was his graduation ceremony into Azrael's fold." The chill crawled along my skin like a spider.

"All lies?"

"Not completely." Kian walked me across the hardwood floors, and I saw the piano out of the corner of my eyes. "He did lose his mother to a car accident long ago when he was one year old. He never knew his father. Sammael tried to adopt him, but Azrael beat him to it. When Azrael and his legion of demons moved from Washington to New York, Sammael followed. He sensed Azrael was up to something. But what, we can't be sure."

"Why Dameon? I mean, Azrael didn't try to take you did he?"

"No, he didn't, and for reasons we can't be sure of, either."

"Looks like I've got my work cut out for me..." I chuckled, tilting my head in Kian's direction. "To figure out what Azrael is up to in New York City, why he needs Dameon, and eventually, to figure out how I can lead you angels to him so that you can destroy him...and then New York can be a safe place to live once again...ha ha!" I felt rather overwhelmed.

When we strolled to the ground floor, a dingy cubicle with a stairwell, a few cobwebs and an exit door, Kian wrapped his arms around me and drew me close to his chest. I felt his breath over my skin and wanted desperately to kiss him. "I'm glad that if I had to do this with anyone, it is with you."

I blushed, but before I could kiss him, he flitted off the hard ground with me bundled in his arms and against his chest, shot through the door and into the sky and through the clouds, until we disappeared from human view. The time we spent flying seemed to pass like a dream until we approached my house. Shooting through the window of my room, which was still ajar, he landed softly on the carpeted floor before releasing me.

"I'll be close; always."

"Wait!" I called to him just before he vanished. His foot stopped on the window frame.

"What is your angel name?"

His left brow arched. "Qaphsiel, Angel of the Moon. The angel who drives away enemies."
Assignments

Monday morning I rushed to get ready on time. I hadn't slept much Sunday night on account of Kian's secrets and all. The vision of his home stained my mind; the winding iron stairwell, the empty crimson room with only a bookcase, the piano room...and then there was, of course, the mahogany door at the end of the crimson room which everyone seemed to go through, except me. Curiosity left my head spinning. Had the room been where...what was his name? Jacob slept? Could the room harbor even more secrets? I felt information overload.

As Jennifer pulled into the school parking lot to let Molly and me out for classes, I felt Kian nearby. Somewhere in the skies, I sensed him and smiled, the kind of smile that stretched from ear to ear. I never had to feel lonely or scared again, because I knew Kian would always be there protecting me.

"So whatever happened to you over the weekend?" Molly asked, tugging on her paintbrush as we walked side by side. Jennifer neglected her preoccupation with her hair to tune her ears in closer to the conversation. "Did you and Dameon kiss?" Mol's face lit up like a Christmas light, and Jennifer barked.

"Do we really care, Mol? I mean you've been ditching us at lunch lately and we don't seem to be very important to you anymore. Your best friends since middle school, not important enough!" Jen rolled her shoulders back which meant she really fumed.

"I care," Mol defended herself.

"The only reason I still chauffeur you to school is in the hope that you'll come to your senses again!" Jen concluded with loud a huff.

Fidgeting, I answered, "I'm...I'm sorry. I didn't know you felt so strongly. I didn't mean to push you two out of my life or something. I just have a lot going on is all."

Jen butted in, "I have a lot going on too, Ali. A Chem test, a who's going to take me to Prom dilemma. There are other people besides you, you know."

"I know." My head dropped. I felt ashamed of my behavior. "I promise I will make more of an effort."

"Good." I caught a slight smile on Jen's lips.

"Well, I for one need to know," Mol interjected. "Did you kiss Dameon?"

"I...we...never got to that point." The memory made me cringe, and Mol noticed my uneasiness.

"Why not? What happened?" Mol's jerky reaction sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn't tell them. How could I? Endanger their lives? My best friends. They'd never believe me anyway.

"I...I," I couldn't find the words, so I squirmed, even resorting to biting my lip..

"I'm sure she has her reasons." Jen butted heads with Mol. I couldn't be sure if she just didn't care or if she was defending me at this point.

"You'd better tell us at lunch." Mol shook her bob, excited.

"Sure, lunch." I gave in, because that would at least put us back into good graces with each other. I took off toward my locker and noticed Kian leaning beside mine already. He was decked out in a white t-shirt, brown jacket and blue jeans; he seemed to enjoy dressing casually.

"Okay, lunch it is." Jen affirmed and nudged Mol in the shoulder to direct her down the hall to their classes. The curious grin on her face that said 'I won' assured me she wouldn't let go until she learned the details come lunch time.

As I approached my locker, my eyes searched vigilantly for Dameon. I didn't want to run into him today. "Is he here yet?"

"Just arrived. I can hear his screeching Cadillac pull up in the parking lot." Kian leaned against Dameon's locker liked he owned it, like he had readied himself to take the demon down. Calm, collected. I guess Kian faced demons every day.

"You can hear that far?"

"Angelfire can hone in on sounds and sights, as if nothing else is around us."

"Cool gift. Can Dameon do that too?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

The hallway where my locker sat cleared of students, and soon only Kian and I stood by my locker. I fumbled over the combination as a figure in a black leather jacket with one red stripe rounded the corner. My hands shook as I pressed my fingers over the lock.

"Come on, come on!" I whispered to myself, trying to get my mind to focus. But all I could think of were Dameon's hands squeezing around my throat.

"17-75-7" Kian whispered, seeing my distress. As red hot as my cheeks felt, I knew my freckles had surely disappeared.

"Made it to school today," Dameon surprised me as he commented over my shoulder. Kian released a sound I'd never heard from him before, a cross between a growl and a squawk. His body language geared into attack mode. Coarse breathing wrapped over my shoulder and neck from behind, and Dameon's smell brought back all the memories of yesterday as the day replayed in my mind. Why did he have to have a locker right next to mine?

Opening my locker, I pulled out my assignment folder as Kian retorted. "You think you could really scare us away, Dameon? You've got to know by now that we run into your kind every day."

"You'd better hope so, because you're going to have to keep a close eye on your little girlfriend if you don't want her ending up in the obituaries."

My locker clicked shut as my face remained frozen and my eyes stared at the yellow metallic paint in front of me. I couldn't turn around and look into those empty, liquid black eyes again.

Stepping away from me and toward Dameon, Kian formed a true blocked space between the demon and me. "Better keep close eyes on yourself, or one day, you'll just up and vanish," Kian returned like a smart ass kid, and I'd never been happier that someone else besides Molly knew how to sound tough.

Just when Dameon opened his mouth in retort, Principal Patty passed through the hall and stopped as her eyes fell over us. "The three of you need to get to class. Pronto!"

"Yes, Ma'am." I nodded and hugged my assignment folder to my chest as Kian slid his arm through mine. Dameon scurried down the hall ahead of us. After Kian walked me to class, he winked.

"See you in a few." He made it all sound so simple.

"What do I do until then?" My body leaned forward as if he had some magical hold on me.

Taking a step back, he answered. "Stay clear of Dameon. Always stay in a public place. I'll meet you after each class."

Opening the English class door, Dameon's abyss-like eyes met mine, and I never felt more creeped out in all my life, like a solider suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or something. My body literally rumbled, and I had to take in a deep breath before I could enter. Kian watched me until I found my seat in the front of the room. Dameon sat in his usual back-of-the-room spot. Our separation seemed to draw attention to us. Whispers began almost immediately, since the school pegged us as 'dating' on Friday, before the English teacher hushed us and Kian disappeared behind the closed door.

Fifty minutes could have been fifty hours. I never felt more claustrophobic, and occasional sweat beads tracked down the sides of my temples. Perspiration, dizziness, heart-palpitations. I realized I was headed in the direction of full-on panic attack. I just kept my head pointed ahead and managed to repress any temptation of flicking my eyes back to look at Dameon. I didn't need the visual. Somehow the clock ticked closer to time for the bell to ring, and I fidgeted in my seat before I finally gave into the urge and allowed a quick twist of my head in Dameon's direction. I felt his eyes on me the entire class, but couldn't be sure until my eyes met his again. In that second, that split second, I knew he would never let me go until he had what he wanted. Me, dead.

RING.

The bell sounded and the students filed out the English class door. Quick to jump out of my seat, I made it to the exit where Kian waited on the other side before I felt Dameon's cold fingers touch my shoulder from behind.

"I'll be waiting for you." His whisper creeped me out even more, and I dashed into Kian's arms as Dameon dispersed with the rest of the students down the hall.

"Couldn't he be arrested for stalking me or something?" I fumed, half in jest. Of course, bars would never hold him, even if I could convince the police I had a stalker. Telling my brother might keep Dameon away for a night in a cold cell, but the demon would be up and ready to kill me by morning. What would be the point?

"Don't worry." Kian encouraged me, and I remembered he had some kind of sonic-hearing ability which heard everything Dameon had said to me as we had exited the classroom.

"How can I not worry?" With an arm around my shoulder, Kian consoled me. I beat myself up for falling for the bad guy as we strolled to my next class. If I had only trusted Kian to begin with or stayed out of Tommy's business, perhaps I wouldn't be in this mess!

"We're almost there." Kian said. His mouth was close to my ear, and the velvety fabric of his lips touched its surface. I really wanted to kiss him, but he let go of me at the P.E. door and waved. "I'll see you in fifty."

I had a feeling that would become our new thing, our new word. Like the whole world would revolve around the number fifty. It would take fifty minutes of me being without Kian, fifty minutes where Dameon could have an opening to nab me, fifty minutes where I would stress out or have an anxiety attack, fifty minutes to contemplate my next move, before the bell. And my class schedule never became so obvious. What had once been in the refuges of my mind was now placed front and center. I had to be vigilant of where I headed, entered and exited. All the time.

This crumpled piece of paper stapled to the inside flap of my assignment folder, my schedule, would become my safety or my peril, depending on how well I played this dangerous game.

1st period-English

2nd period-P.E.

3rd period-Biology

4th period-World History

Lunch

5th period-Journalism

6th period-Calculus

7th period-Spanish

In Biology, Mr. Straub pulled a pig's heart from a clear glass jar resting on his desk. I wanted to throw up, but I couldn't leave the room. Kian would kill me, and Dameon just actually might. As if this past week hadn't been strange enough, I now was expected to examine an animal's heart!

At least in World History I could feign attention by staring at my open NOOK. I did turn to the corresponding textbook page. Ten minutes after sitting down in class, I received a text and my cell vibrated in my back pocket. Slipping out the cell as Mrs. Korn wrote something on the whiteboard, I flipped open the phone and read.

Ali,

Don't Forget!

We're meeting at lunch and you're dishing out everything!

Jen

Jen had a way with forcing an issue, something in her lawyer genes I guess. My mind swirled with ideas, but I knew I had to think of something. Mol and Jen wouldn't let me off easy. Why should they? They'd told me everything since Middle School and expected the same in return. We didn't keep secrets. When the bell rang, the students flushed out of the door and down the hall like a tidal wave. The usually vacant cafeteria and outdoor lawn area were piled with bodies carrying grumbling stomachs.

Kian put his arm around me and gently tugged me close to him. He didn't want to lose me in this mess, a mess that offered the perfect opportunity for chaos to ensue, for someone to have a so-called accident. We didn't want to give Dameon any headway.

Eyeing Jen and Mol at our table inside, or at least the table we had used our first two years in High School before I had fallen for the 'bad boy' and Mol and Jen had decided to shun me by sitting outside with the newbies, I strolled up to my best friends with Kian close by my side.

"Glad you made it. We were beginning to wonder." Molly looked at Kian as she spoke, lifting her chocolate brown eyes as if asking what he was doing here.

"How quickly you move on to someone new!" Jen flicked her hair as she stuffed a muffin into her mouth.

Sitting across from them, Kian and I finally had time to rest. Nothing could happen in front of my best friends, two pairs of human eyes. "So, you two been waiting long?" I started the conversation.

"No, but long enough to grab a lunch. Why don't you grab yours first, and then spill all the details," Jen suggested, and Kian placed his hand on my shoulder when I moved up an inch.

"I'll get ours." His gravelly voice made him sound all the more street-like, like he could take two men down with one arm if he had to. Only I knew he literally could.

When he disappeared into the lunch line, Mol burst out, "So, out with the old and in with the new? Whatever happened to Dameon? The guy you always ditched us for at lunch?" She still sounded bitter.

Good question. I searched the cafeteria, my head bobbing left and right, and then aimed my gaze at Mol. "He and I...just didn't work out."

"More men for me." Mol's cheeks puffed and a glint sparkled in her eyes.

My arm stretched across the table and snatched hers. "No! He's no good. You have to stay away from him." I eyed Jen. "You too!"

"Geez! What's wrong with you?" Jen reacted, straightening herself in her seat.

"What happened over the weekend? Did he do something to you?" Mol's concerned glare traced my face.

"I just...I just think it is a bad idea."

"No, there's something more to it." Jen looked at Mol and then at me, putting the pieces together that Mol had already figured out on her own. "Something really bad happened. What, dammit?"

"Ali, we're your friends." Mol grew motherly and tilted her head to soften her tone, the tone that said you'd-better-tell-us-or-else. "You can tell us anything."

I couldn't tell them this, at least, not the whole story. But I had to tell them something.

Noticing Kian in the front of the lunch line, I knew I had to hurry. He would fume if he knew I said anything. "Well," I whispered as my two best friends hunched toward me. Like a team in a football huddle, it was the way the three of us shared secrets. "We were about to kiss, and he hurt me. He got too rough."

"Hurt you how?" Jen's mouth fell agape.

"He got dangerous. I mean, after he left I had bruises."

"Bruises?!" Mol's mouth fell agape.

"That's it; I'm calling my father." Jen reached into her back pocket and pulled out her cell. "He'll fix this guy good. He knows a judge!"

"No, no!" I shook my head as Kian walked toward us with two trays in hand. "No, I don't want this getting out. I'm fine now. Fine. Let's just be quiet about this. Kian doesn't know anything, and I don't want him knowing anything." I rushed my words and shooed my friends back with my swatting hand.

By the time Kian had arrived and set the trays on the table, Mol and Jen managed to occupy themselves with a ham sandwich and an apple.

"Miss anything?" Kian asked, and I shook my head.

"No, nothing."

"Nope." Jen shook her head profusely. I could see that lying wasn't second nature to her. If she wanted to be a lawyer, she'd have to work on that one. Mol kept her eyes aimed at her lunch tray.

Somehow sharing a bit of what happened between Dameon and me eased some of the tension between me and Jen. I shared some of my secrets and that made her feel important again, but more than that I needed her. I needed her comfort from the big-bad-Dameon and she sensed it. My story of bruises made her sensitive to my plight and the rift once between us seemed to vanish.

When I finally made it through lunch with no further drama, Kian and I headed to my Journalism class. Jen and Mol seemed satiated by the story I told them, which in essence was true, and I could refocus my attention on staying alive.

"See you in fifty." Kian rubbed the side of his head against mine. Lingering for a minute, I enjoyed the smell of him. It reminded me of something milky and sweet. My lips lay in limbo, somewhere between kissing him and staying put, until Kian pulled away again.

"In fifty," I whispered as he melted into the crowd in the hall.

Plopping into my desk, I took out my assignment folder, my NOOK, and set my eyes on the board. Mr. Zimmerman marched up to me and cleared his throat. When my puppy dog look didn't draw any response, I fidgeted in my seat.

"Your assignment, Ali. Due today, remember?" Mr. Zimmerman scolded me.

Remember? How would I remember between being choked to death by a demon and then watching two students from Millennium High transform into angel-like beings? Or no, perhaps I could have done the paper sometime between being lifted into the sky by Kian -slash- Angelfire, and being mesmerized by his magnificent mansion.

I must have sat there, with a blank expression on my face, for some time.

Coming to my rescue, Nathaniel pulled out two papers from his satchel and handed them to Mr. Zimmerman. "Here you go, Sir. Ali and I worked very hard on these over the weekend. But I think you'll like our results." Nathaniel's bronze hues glimmered ever so slightly under the dull lighting of the room as he sat back down in his seat.

"Thank you." Looking surprised, Mr. Zimmerman turned from the desks and headed back to his whiteboard. With his back still to the class, he finished, "And both typed up nicely. Good; I hate trying to decipher handwriting."

I tilted my head to Nathaniel and whispered. "Thank you!" He smiled, red splotches appear-ing in his cheeks.
Suspicions

Walking to the parking lot after school, I squeezed Kian's hand. We hadn't officially announced our dating, and in fact, I couldn't be sure what I would even call us, perhaps witness protection? But for better or worse, Kian could always be found beside me.

"What do I do now?" I worried. I knew Kian could always tell when I worried by the crevices that formed in my forehead.

"You go home as usual. I'll be watching from up there." His eyes veered skyward. I kept my eyes fixed on his lips. All through Calculus and through most of Spanish all I could think about was kissing those copper-tinted lips.

"Sure," I agreed, stepping away from him and toward the sedan where Jen and Mol waited in the leather seats.

Rolling down her window, Jen shouted, "Hurry up, Ali. I have to get home."

Jogging up to the car, I waved bye to Kian before slipping into the backseat behind Mol, who usually sat in the front seat beside the driver. She had a thing about the backseat, as if she had once had a bad experience there or something. Once, I took the front seat, and she about freaked.

"So, are you two like a thing now?" Mol craned her neck back to look at me.

"We just really get each other now, is all," I defended our position. Mol could be possessive over me and Jen. Loyal to a fault.

"I like him much better than Dameon. Glad you've moved on," Jen commented as she turned out of the parking lot. She turned up the music volume and Maroon 5's 'She Will Be Loved' permeated the car.

"Me too." I said under my breath, staring out the window.

"So, is Kian going to be joining us at the lunch table the rest of the week?" Mol adjusted her position in the car.

"Yes. Is that a problem?" I leaned forward between the two front car seats.

"No, I just want to know what I'm looking forward to." Mol curled her lip in half smile.

"How'd you two end up together anyway?" Jen questioned as she turned down my street. "I mean, last we heard you hated him."

"I didn't hate him; I just didn't care for his company as much as Dameon's, I guess."

"Well, whatever you want to call it, you sure changed company real fast." Mol interjected.

"Dameon turned out to be a jerk, and I bumped into Kian over the weekend. We got to talking and he..." I couldn't find the right words.

"He what?" Mol teased. "Made your heart go pitter patter?"

"Made me believe in love again," I said plainly, and the car grew silent; even Maroon 5's song finally ended.

As we pulled up to my house, Jen and Mol waved good-bye, and I scurried over the sidewalk to the front door. Looking up before entering, I saw the corner of a white wing disappear in the clouds above me. Kian really never was far away, and I wondered how long he would be there, beside me. Did he only protect me because Dameon wanted to kill me? Or did he have feelings for me? Would he be there for me long after this Dameon thing?

I didn't have time to ponder those questions, though, because as I closed the door, I noticed Samuel, in uniform, sitting at the dining table in the kitchen, finishing up a bowl of Mom's soup. Mom had just poured him another ladleful and then made her way to the sofa, picked up her newspaper and plopped down in her favorite chair.

"Samuel wanted to talk to you after you freshen up. I poured you a bowl of soup already."

"Thanks, Mom." I dashed upstairs with questions itching in every corner of my mind. Talk? Flinging my knapsack with the NOOK inside, along with an assignment paper from Spanish class, on my bed, I plopped onto the chest at the foot of the bed where Dameon had once sat inches from me. Sighing, I pulled the pine wood chest open and rummaged through my pictures. My fingers found Dad, and I gazed at his photo, the one with him holding a fishing pole in one hand and a large fish in the other. A proud smile crossed his face. I remembered how the red and white plaid shirt he wore had stunk of the sea that day.

"What do I do? How would you get through this?" I whispered to Dad as if he could still hear me. Somehow, I liked to believe, he could.

"Ali?" Mom shouted from downstairs, and I slipped the photo back inside the chest.

"Coming." I skipped down the stairs and found my bowl at the table. Mom continued reading her paper in the living room. I could hear the faint sound of the television. After scooping a spoonful of soup into my mouth, I glared at my brother. "What do you want?"

Samuel put his spoon down and said, "I figured out what Tommy meant on a note he left before he died."

Damn! Samuel had learned that Tommy left something in Francis' locker. I shrugged as if I had no idea what he was talking about.

"He left something behind at the local cafe."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"I went there."

"And?"

"And they told me that my sister, Allison Maney, had already picked up the item Tommy left there."

I stared at him with what I hoped was a blank expression on my face.

"So, it got me thinking. How would my little sister know that Tommy hid anything there? And more importantly, why would she take it?"

His badge reflected the kitchen lights and beamed over my face, reminding me of a hot interview light used to sweat the truth out of suspects. I started sweating.

"So I dusted the note I jotted Tommy's info on and guess what?"

"What?" I swallowed hard.

"I found your fingerprints."

I fidgeted in my seat and then bit my lip.

"So, why would you snoop through my stuff for information on Tommy, and why would you take evidence?" He leaned over the table, his badge drawing closer to me. It appeared to me to be a lie detector.

"I...I," I couldn't completely lie. He would know it. He conducted interviews on hardened criminals all the time. And he knew me; he would be able to tell. "I needed a Journalism assignment and thought Tommy's suicide would make for an interesting story."

"So, you snooped through confidential information for your school assignment? Do you know how much trouble you could get into--or get me into?"

"I needed a good grade."

Samuel took a deep breath before answering. I tried his patience. "So, what did you find inside the locker?"

"Nothing, really. Just a few gum wrappers. A few loose-leaf papers."

"Nothing? Tommy goes to the trouble of hiding something inside Francis' locker, something he intends to retrieve later, and you expect me to believe you found nothing?"

"Honest." I tried to look sincere, but I don't think he believed me. "Tommy probably picked it up before he died."

"Or you're hiding something," Samuel pressed.

"What does it matter, anyway? Tommy's death was a suicide. Investigated and completed."

Samuel grew serious, and straight lines furrowed over his brows. "That's just it. I'm not so sure it was a suicide anymore."

"Not a suicide? Why not?" I tried not to sound flabbergasted.

"Because when I went back on my own to investigate the rooftop, I found fresh fingernail scratch marks on the edge of the roof. Why would someone committing suicide try to hold on?"

I shoved another spoonful of soup into my mouth. I didn't want to have this conversation. I didn't want Samuel to go down the same road I had, to be put in the same dangers. Mom had already lost Dad, and she couldn't lose us, too. Samuel lived with Mom to keep her company after Dad's death, to be the man of the house. If Dameon ever got to Samuel, I don't know how either Mom or I could handle it.

"Doesn't make sense, does it?" He cocked his left brow, and I knew he desperately wanted to get his hands on whatever it was I had found inside that locker. Fortunately for me, I kept the iPhone with me at all times, inside my purse. If he ever searched my room, he wouldn't find it.

"Maybe those marks were made by someone else?" I tried to raise doubt as I washed my bowl and headed out of the kitchen.

"Well, whatever all this is, I'm going to get to the bottom of it."

I tried not to concern myself with what he said. I couldn't even imagine how much havoc that could mean to the family, the city!

Bouncing back upstairs to my room, I closed the door and fell backward on my bed. As I stared at my ceiling, I felt a mist fall over my skin even before Kian appeared at the foot of my bed. With a white wingspan that reached from one side of my bed to the other, I'd never seen anything, anyone, more elegant.

"Kian. What are you doing here?" I almost felt like he violated my privacy. He could just pop in and out when he wanted, without invitation and without warning. What if I had been dressing?

"I told you; I'm never leaving your side. Nighttime is the most dangerous time for humans who are aware of us. Dameon will use the night, use your sleep time to his advantage. I have to stay, or he will come in."

"Oh!" I said with a feeling of both dread and exhilaration. Dread that while I slept, I would have to worry about being killed, and exhilaration that Kian would be watching over me...just inches away...every night. Like a personal body guard.

"Don't worry, Ali. I'll let you have your privacy when you need it." I blushed at his words. Could he tell what I thought?

"I'm not worried. I just..." I glanced at the floor away from his brilliant amber eyes. "I haven't had a guy in here all night before is all."

"Trust me; I'm a perfect gentleman." His thin lips and glowing skin reminded me of heaven, and I believed no words could ever be truer than his.

Nodding, I combed my hair over my shoulder as I stood in front of my vanity and then gave him the look that said turn around. "I have to change."

"Of course." His glowing face turned toward the window, and I could only see his wings, his magnificent wings.

After changing into my pink cotton pajamas, I walked up to him and placed my hands on his wings. I had only wanted one touch, but I couldn't stop stroking them. Silky and soft, the feathers tickled my fingers as I raked my fingertips over them. "Truly amazing!" My hands outlined the arch over his back which descended over his lower legs.

Pivoting back around to face me, Kian responded with a nonchalant shrug, "You get used to them."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to them." I stroked with both hands, one on each wing tip. His face was only inches from mine, and his breath lay heavy on my neck. And, although he usually wore a shirt, because of the wings he didn't have one on now. His chest looked so comfortable, delicious, warm. I wanted to curl up and fall asleep against him.

Touching his hands to my wrists, he brought my hands back to my side, while his fingertips lingered over my skin from wrist to elbow and then to my shoulder blade. Goosebumps rushed up my arms and neck.

Drawing my lips to his, our kiss lasted only a few seconds before he pushed me back, and I noticed a few feathers falling from his wings to my floor. "We can't."

"But why?"

"Because of Rule #2."

"Rule number what?" I could hardly remember the rules with him bare-chested in front of me.

"Angels and humans cannot be intimate. If we are, we lose our wings." I noticed another feather ruffle out from under his wings and fall to my carpeted floor. Each feather reminded me of my sin.

"I...I didn't know; I'm sorry." I felt ashamed, stupid. He told me the rules. I should have known. This is why he never tried anything with me, when he had so many ample opportunities.

"I want to kiss you more than anything in this world." Kian bit his lip, and I yearned for him even more.

"Forget it. It was my fault. I shouldn't have..."

"Don't blame yourself." Kian blushed. "I may have given you mixed signals. When I'm around you, it's hard to control my pheromones."

"Yes, you do have an intoxicating smell." I stared at him like if I looked away I might lose him forever.

Knock! Knock, Knock!

The sound broke my concentration on Kian, and I jerked around. "I'm coming in!" Samuel's voice announced from the other side of the door. As the door opened, I glanced over my shoulder to find Kian, but he had vanished.

Samuel stepped inside the room. "I just wanted to apologize if I sounded abrupt or harsh earlier. I don't want there to be any tension between us."

"No, no. There is none. I get why you would have thought I found something." I tried to play cool as my eyes searched around the room for Kian's hiding place. "It's just that I didn't." I shrugged and plopped onto my bed.

"Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure. Anyway, have a good night, and I'll talk to you later, kiddo."

"Later." I smiled, and my brother shut the door behind him.

Then I frantically searched my room for Kian, peeking behind the closet door and under my bed. Within minutes Kian reappeared from the vapor he had become outside my window, and all the fear I had accumulated inside was immediately alleviated.
Sunlight Kisses

Sunlight kissed my face through a diagonal crack in my curtain when I rolled from my back to my side. Waking up, my lids fluttered slowly as I rubbed my eyes. I yawned and stretched my arms before I noticed Kian lying right beside me. Copper blond hair glistened under the morning sun and I realized I noticed him before he saw me. It made me feel like I invaded some private club or something. It made me feel special, because no matter where we were at any given time, Kian always had full attention of everything, even of me. But now, in this moment, I had him fully as he lay there seemingly helpless with his lids closed.

I wanted to whisper his name, to have his brilliant hazel eyes open next to mine, but even more, I wanted to watch him sleep, to watch his still lips rest in a quiet smile, to watch those strong arms under his short sleeved t-shirt flex intermittently. How peaceful he seemed to me then, like grace and love wrapped into a sleeping hug. Then I wondered how much angels slept?

Such calm radiated from his skin and poured over me! No wonder I had slept so soundly, perhaps the best I had managed in a long time. But I had to get dressed for school, so I slipped off my side of the bed and tiptoed to the closet. Lifting my nightgown over my head, I stood in my cotton lingerie. Then I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Kian lifted his head and propped himself upon his elbow.

Flushing red, I turned to him, and we stared intensely at each other for a few lingering seconds before I made my embarrassed retreat to the closet and Kian rolled over facing the curtain.

"Sorry, I didn't realize you were up yet. Usually, I'm up before the humans."

"Don't worry about it." I threw a sweater on over my head and shoulders, then pulled the blue fabric to my waist. Pulling up a pair of jeans, I finished. "Tell me, how long do you usually sleep anyway? Do angels sleep everyday like...humans?" I realized that was the first time I made a distinction between his kind and mine.

His voice vibrated across the room. "Yes, we sleep everyday...or at least we try to. But we don't have to sleep as much as you, per se."

"Then, how long?"

"A few hours here and there."

"You must have been beat then?" I turned around, ready to face my day.

"Yeah, I haven't gotten much sleep the past few days. Dameon has kept me on my toes."

"So..." I walked around to meet him on the far side of the bed. He looked up at me as he raked his fingers through his hair. "How are we going get around Dameon today?"

"One day at a time. We'll see when we get there. In the meantime, we stick to our plan. Attend each class, and I'll meet you at the door after each class. Don't wander off..."

I interjected, "Stay in crowded and public areas, and never -ever- go anywhere alone." I half-joked with an exaggerated movement of my hands and intonation.

"Yeah." Kian's lip curled into smile. "That's about it, except I can't emphasize enough to never let anyone else know what is going on. You don't want to make anyone else have to run for their lives."

Putting my hand on his shoulder, I tugged on him. "Come on, you have to get ready, and I have to get going. School is going to start soon, and I don't want Mom catching you up here."

Just as I said those words, I heard Mom shout from the other side of my door, "Who are you talking to in there?"

Within a micro-second Kian vaporized, and I dashed over to the door. I unlocked it and pushed it open a few inches, and Mom poked her nose in. "Are you going to let me in?"

"Sorry; I'm just getting ready." I opened the door the rest of the way after I saw that the room was completely clear of anything Kian.

"So, who were you talking to?" Mom waved her hands and searched the room with her dark eyes.

"No one. I had the radio on. You probably heard that."

"Okay, never mind. Anyway, I wanted to see you this morning before I head off to work to let you know that I will be getting home late today, and Samuel has a banquet to attend. You will be home alone until eight tonight."

"Okay, Mom."

"So, you'll be fine?" Mom rested her hand on my shoulder with a squeeze.

I knew she meant, since Dad's death, since the school boy's suicide, since Dameon turned out to be a jerk (well, a demon really, but she didn't know that), but I just nodded. Besides, I wouldn't really be alone. I would be with Kian.

"Good. I'll see you later tonight then?"

"Later." She disappeared after I kissed her on the cheek.

When the door clicked shut, Kian blew like a mist through the bottom of my window and over my carpet before solidifying before my eyes. Slowly, fog swirled thicker and thicker until arms and legs appeared, followed by his face and eyes. Amber first, and then hazel. The image never got old...like something out of a sci-fi movie. Just like his wings, his jeans somehow magically clung to him whenever he needed them, as if they were a part of him. But his chest was bare. I still couldn't believe my eyes. But every time he did that, or every time he grew his wings, I was reminded that the New York City I once knew would never be the same.

I gave Kian a puzzled look, wondering how he managed to arrive at Millennium High clothed when he always ripped his shirts when he morphed. He must have read my expression, my eyes searching his chest.

"I keep a bag of t-shirts near the school."

"Ahh." My brows rose as he washed his face in the sink down the hall.

Jennifer pulled up to my driveway, honking for me at the time Mom left the house. Samuel had left hours ago. Shouting down to Jen from my open window, I hoped she wouldn't be too angry if we arrived late. "I'll be right down." Scrambling for my bag, I watched Kian, like magic dust, disperse out the window and into the sky. He'd be morphing angel soon, and I needed to get going.

"Whatcha doing, Ali!? Come on!" Molly yelled from the passenger-side window.

"Be there in a sec!" I told her just as firmly, and I pulled my hair back into a twister before rushing downstairs to grab the toaster strudel Mom had prepared for me.

As I slid into the backseat, Jen revved the engine, and we raced down the street. "We have to make up for lost time. I have a test first period!" Jen's fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

"Geesh, Jen...it's just a test." I knew I sounded defensive.

"Well, I arrived late as it is, and I thought you'd already be waiting on the sidewalk for me. I can't believe you were late too...of all days!" Her head shook.

"Sorry; I didn't know," I apologized.

"Still, I can't believe my ears!" Mol turned her head around to me, her cheek touching the side of her leather seat. "It is just a test? Since when did you, Ali, stop caring about tests?"

I paused. Frankly, all I could think about was this new world of angels and demons and how I would survive today. "I...just think there are more important things than tests, like...like friendship."

"Okay, Ali." Mol rolled her eyes as if she didn't believe me, but I meant it, and then she turned back around.

When we arrived at school, the three of us rushed through the front doors just as the first bell rang. We had several minutes to get to our lockers and to first period class. But I would just as soon skip first. I didn't feel up to seeing Dameon today, to pretend that the very sight of him didn't make my skin crawl.

"See you later!" Jen rushed off in the opposite direction, and Mol skipped off to her art class as I rummaged through my open locker.

"Later." I stood alone, without my best friends. The halls grew more and more empty the closer the clock on the wall ticked to the late bell. I became very aware within seconds that the last five students I could see disappeared behind the corner.

Shutting the locker, I held my assignment folder in one hand and the Gucci bag I brought from home in the other. With my NOOK in the bag, I couldn't leave home without it. Where are you? I worried to myself about Kian, and then the black jacket turned the corner. Oh, God! The tall figure strolled toward me. Light from the window on the wall blinded me. I could only make out his silhouette; I only had the image of the black jacket to go on, and I knew who wore black. Dameon.

Stepping backward, I kept my gaze ahead as I inched further and further away from my locker. "Don't come any closer." I held my hands out as the Gucci bag slid down my shoulder. "Stop! Stay where you are." I tried to sound forceful, but the figure kept moving forward until his hand reached forward and his forefinger pointed.

"Aren't you supposed to be in class, young lady?" His raspy voice sounded familiar.

"Assistant Principal Krougar?"

"Yes, dear." The light from the window was shaded by a passing cloud, and I made out his features and sighed. "Now, get to class before I mark you down."

"Yes, sir."

Bustling down the hall, I rushed into my English class, bracing myself. If Dameon hadn't been in the hall, he had to be in class. But when I opened the door, his seat sat vacant. In class, I couldn't keep my mind on anything the teacher said, worrying about where Kian was and why he wasn't waiting at the English class door for me, or where Dameon was and why he wasn't in class.

When the bell rang, I thought I might explode. Class went by so slowly! Jumping to the door, I was the first person to swing the door open. I heard a few comments like, 'Damn, Ali, pushy much?' and, 'Leave her alone; Dameon broke her heart.'

I didn't care much what the kids at Millennium High said about me; if I really thought about it, I never had a reputation before Dameon, and in a way, at least now students knew I existed. But honestly, none of that even mattered to me now. The only thing I cared about was seeing Kian's face on the other side of the door.

Stepping out of the room, I looked around. When my eyes finally met his and I scurried up to him, he was resting against the lockers along the wall beside the English class. I slapped his shoulder, and he straightened.

"What's gotten into you?"

"Where were you? We had a deal! You weren't waiting for me before English! What if he..."

With a hand on my shoulder, he pulled me to his mouth. "Dameon is not here today." His words breathed over my skin...and I just wanted to swallow him whole.

"Where is he?" But I pulled away, angry.

"With his gang."

"Gang? You mean the demon spawn?"

"Precisely."

"Why?" Wrinkles formed on my forehead.

"Not sure. That's why I was late. I kept an eye on him for as long as I could, trying to figure out what he was up to."

"And?"

"And Krysta is watching him now. I didn't want to leave you alone for too long."

"Thanks." I leaned into him, aching to kiss his lips before I remembered that for every act of intimacy, he lost feathers from his wings.

"Not so fast." His hand touched my waist as he bumped backward into the lockers. "Consequences."

"I know." I shook my head. "I'm so sorry; I keep forgetting."

"It's alright. Even I want to forget sometimes." His mossy-brown eyes fell low and his disposition became somber.

I sensed there to be so much more to his feelings in that moment. Feelings about his past, his future...me? We only had a few minutes before the next bell, but as we walked to my P.E. class, I couldn't stop thinking about how difficult his life must have been. Orphaned. On the New York streets alone, and not able to intimately touch anyone. I began to realize how much the Angelfire sacrificed just to keep the streets safe from demons, and I squeezed Kian's hand tightly. It was the one small act I could do without causing him harm.

"Afraid?" he asked, knowing he would have to leave me alone for fifty minutes.

"No." I shook my head, and something like pride for him washed over me, "just glad I found you."

"Me too." He hooked his fingers into my back pant pocket with only the fabric of my pants keeping his skin from mine, keeping his passion from washing over into me. But I felt fortunate. I might never be able to kiss him, or hold him so close that I couldn't breathe, but we shared some-thing in that hallway, something I never felt before...something that made me tingle-everywhere.
Until Eight

After Jen dropped me off at my house, I said goodbye to both Mol and Jen with a quick wave before racing through the front door. As I closed the thick wooden oak door, I saw Kian de-scend with the white wings of an angel behind the glass window of the kitchen across the hall. Butterflies flitted in my stomach, and I felt like I'd fallen in love for the first time. In a way I guess I had. No other relationship I had ever had with a boyfriend came close to what I had with Kian. We had something pure, protected, destined. At least that is how our relationship felt to me.

Scurrying across the hall and into the kitchen, I scanned the green and white tiled walls before settling on the glass window where wings vanished into a foggy mist. Like a rolling storm cloud, the mist slid under the window pane and into the house. When the vapor touched my skin, my body tingled. Perhaps this was the only time I would ever be able to feel him so overtly on me, and I wondered how the rules applied to him then. Where was that fine line between us drawn?

For several long coveted minutes he engulfed me and slid up my leg like silk beneath my pants. A sensation of pure pleasure such as I had never experienced shot through me, and I closed my eyes as he lingered over my belly button and up my chest to the hollow of my neck; I felt an ebb and flow like ocean waves. I wanted to keep him there forever, to keep the closeness and the ecstasy. But when his mist finally stretched out from beneath my clothes and settled over the hard kitchen floor, the Kian I recognized appeared, and I knew then and there I would give up his mist to see his face, his form, time and time again.

"How are you? I mean since I left you alone seventh period?" Kian inched close to me, his voice as loud as a tolling bell. I don't think he realized how loud he could be, and if Mom had been home, she would have surely heard him even through the closed door to her downstairs room. Heck, Samuel would have definitely heard him from upstairs, too.

"Shh." I held my forefinger over his mouth. Perhaps I wanted to remind him to keep his voice low just in case, or perhaps I just wanted to touch his skin. I didn't use my lips, so I figured he'd be safe. "I was fine. Mrs. Tambourina gave us a quiz, and I think I did well. I didn't see any sign of Dameon."

"You shouldn't have. Krysta told me on my way over here that Dameon spent most of his day busy with his gang. They walked up and down the streets searching for different items."

"Items? What kind of items?" I worried. I frowned, and I felt my eyes narrow in concern.

"Krysta said she would tell me when I get home tonight."

"Speaking of your home, am I ever going to get to see your lovely mansion on the lake again? It was quite spectacular, and I only got to see two of the rooms. There must be more, right?"

"Well, yes there are more rooms, and yes, I will show you my home sometime soon, but no, you will not be able to see all the rooms." He stepped toward me as I turned to walk into the living room. The sofa looked inviting, and I plopped down on the warm cushion as Kian sat in the rocking chair adjacent to me. Disappointed that he wanted to keep his distance, I pursed my lips, pouting unconsciously.

"Why not?" Surprise hung between us.

"Because, Ali," Kian began, and I felt my lips tighten at his hard words, "Sammael would never allow it for one, and for two, there are just some things humans should not know."

"But?"

"No buts. Please don't ask me again. I hate to see that dejected expression on your face, hate to deny you anything. But I can't do this."

"All right." My head hung low, and I wanted to ask him more questions, like what was in those forbidden rooms, but I knew he wouldn't be able to tell me, so I just sighed.

Then I felt his pinky finger brushing the dimple in my chin. He stood before me. "Don't look so dreadful."

I lifted my head and smiled. "I'm not."

"Yes you are. You're a stickler for getting your own way, aren't you?"

I shrugged.

"Don't let curiosity get the best of you. Remember what curiosity has brought you so far." He spoke like he had read my mind, like he knew that I was toying with the idea of breaking into those secret rooms someday.

My mind swirled with danger, death...and then rested on Kian's brilliant hazel pupils and copper-blond hair. As my eyes caressed his arched nose and thin lips, broad shoulders and wide chest, I smiled. "Yes, look at what curiosity has brought me."

Kian quickly wiped the smirk off my face with one word. "Don't."

"Don't what?" My lids widened with doe-eyed expression.

"Don't pretend that any of this is justified because you have me here, that the danger to your life is somehow worth it. Don't pretend that things couldn't get worse if you don't listen to me."

Pouting inside, I flung myself against the back of the sofa. "I'm not."

"I see your mind ticking, figuring out ways to discover more about me, about my world."

"And is that such a bad thing?" I waved my hands. "To want to know more about the man in my life?"

"It is, when answers will only bring more danger to you, drawing out more demons who want to murder you."

"Murder me?" My flesh grew cold.

"Yes Ali. Dameon isn't the only demon willing to kill you if need be. Angelfire keeps our secrets locked up for good reasons.

"But Sammael said that I could read those books in the library, that the information wouldn't cause the angels or demons to lose power. How are the secret rooms any different?"

"Because they are, Ali." Kian sighed. "Remember, Sammael told you that the only knowledge that weakens us is the knowledge that draws humans to the truth of our existence and our identities?"

"Yes."

"Well, many rooms belong to other angels in the city, angels you shouldn't know exist. If you did know, they too would lose power. Some rooms possess only photo books of identities with locals. It is important for Sammael to know what is going on in the world and who is on his side, but it is not important for you to know...or any other human. Knowing this will only weaken our cause."

"I understand." I nodded and really felt satisfied with his answer. "I wouldn't want to be the cause of angels weakening in power."

"I know you wouldn't." He plopped next to me and tucked his head between my left ear and the sofa pillow. Our heads rested side by side for a few seconds before temptation gripped me and I felt starved for him; my heart ached. Only being near him would never be enough, but it would have to be. As he pulled away, his arm brushed tenderly against my cheek, and I couldn't resist him. I pulled his arm back, jerking his body toward me. He landed gently on my breasts.

He laughed and then I laughed, breaking the romance I spontaneously intended, and then he rolled over, propping himself up beside me, still giggling.

"We sure are a pair," he commented, a grin stretching across his face.

"We sure are." I agreed. I hung my neck over on the back of the sofa. I could feel my face beaming.

"So...what do you want to do now?"

I turned my whole body around, legs crossed, and leaned into him. His face lit up like a bolt of lightning. He must have thought I wanted another kiss.

"I want to know who you are."

"What do you want to know?"

"How long did you live in the orphanage? Were you ever adopted?"

"I was put up for adoption as soon as I lost my parents. I had no other living relatives. Since the state had nowhere else for me, they put me into the local city orphanage. I was raised by harsh hands." Kian rubbed his temple, deep in memory, and a tear rolled down his cheek, lingering at his top lip. I wiped it with my pinky.

"You never have to be sad again."

"They beat me badly."

My mouth gaped open. I couldn't imagine what a horrible life he must have had before he met Sammael! "Did you report it?"

"No," he shook his head. "That wouldn't have accomplished anything. The police don't care about us orphans." His mind wandered somewhere as he stared at the painting on the wall. "I ran away."

"To child services? Anyone?"

"An orphan named Allen tried once. Didn't do much good."

"I'm so sorry." Comforting him, I circled his back with my hand.

"Don't be. I'm here now...with you."

I let my head rest on his shoulder as he continued. He had so much story to share with me, and we had all the time in the world...well at least until eight. "So you lived on the streets?"

"Yep, most of my life...well until Sammael."

"So, you haven't lived in the mansion for that long?"

"Not too long. But it feels like the home I always wanted."

"I'm glad." I nestled up closer to him; the warmth emanating from his body was something akin to sunbathing under the summer sun. My chin relaxed on his neck. "Because I want you around."

"So, you'll keep me as your protector?" he said with a hint of sarcasm.

"I wouldn't want any other."

"You won't need any other," he retorted, sounding confident.

"I know." Reassured, I closed my eyes for a moment, basking in that certainty. He would be there for me always, whenever I needed him; my own personal angel of the skies. No other man could come close to what he gave me.

We sat silently like that, our legs wrapped over each other like roots of a tree, for at least thirty minutes. I didn't want to break the quiet spell, a still reverie between us that spoke volumes without us saying a word. But then I had to. I had to know more.

"After you ran away, where did you stay? On the streets I mean."

"Here and there. A few homeless shelters; a few sleepless nights. Sometimes I found comfort within the homes of a few Good Samaritans."

"In New York?" My mouth dropped open again.

Snickering, Kian retorted, "Yeah, hard to believe I know. But they exist."

"If you say so, I believe you." I answered, only half seriously, and then I decided I wanted to pursue the conversation more. "So you survived the streets, I guess with criminals, poverty, demons and all?"

"Fighting the criminals and demons became second nature to me. I had a knack for stopping the bad guys. My wings sprouted eagerly, and my abilities took hold. Caring for and protecting those weaker is who I am...who all the angels are."

"A true angel." I sounded so sappy.

"The poverty part, now that was a challenge." I laughed at his remark.

"How so?" I pushed closer to him; his story enthralling me.

"Well, living on garbage is not something I'd recommend to anyone."

"Eww, really? You had to eat garbage?" I reacted quickly without a second thought to his sensitivities.

"It's not so bad...not when you're hungry...or worse, starving."

"Sorry; I shouldn't have reacted the way I did."

"Don't beat yourself up about it. Everyone reacts that way."

"Everyone? Who else have you told?"

"Well, Krysta, Nathaniel...and Sammael. You should have heard how Krysta reacted."

I could totally visualize exactly how Krysta would have gawked and then made some sort of finger-down-the-throat-expression.

"Well, you never have to face those hardships again at least." I sounded cheery.

"Yeah, I owe a lot to Sammael...even my life."

"Your life?" He caught me off guard.

"Yeah, well...on more than one occasion, actually. The demons can be pretty ruthless. I remember a few times coming face to face with Dameon and his family of demons. Once Dameon caught me off guard and was holding me against an alley wall with a knife to my throat."

"Oh my God!"

His voice grew serious and deep as I watched his lips move. "Sammael sent the angel Jacob to help me."

"Jacob?"

"The angel of love." My expression must have grown curious, so Kian clarified what he meant. "Yes, the angel I spoke of earlier. You will get to meet him. He has had quite a life."

I gave him an incredulous expression. "I thought I wouldn't be meeting any more angels."

"You won't. Except for Jacob. He is old and doesn't serve the community as he once did. Well, you'll understand once you meet him. He will tell you himself. It's alright to know his identity. His power is already too weak to be of any value outside of the mansion walls." As I pondered what Kian meant by that, I grew excited with the notion of meeting another angel.

"When will I get to meet him?"

"Soon."

"Wow!" I tried to digest everything Kian had told me. The homelessness, the poverty, the near life death experiences, Jacob. I wanted to ask more, but then the clock on the wall struck seven thirty. Like Cinderella with her magical glass slippers, I had run out of time.

"I'd better get going. Don't want to have to answer questions from your family."

"Yeah, you're right. Better get going."

He dematerialized before my eyes and disappeared beneath the kitchen window pane. Mom's car pulled up seconds later.
Carnage

It was Wednesday morning; I remembered this day well. Kian called and told me to meet him at the fence gate of my house. He flew into my backyard, hiding behind the apple tree, and after his wings folded inside his body he skirted around the fence and met me at the gate. I watched him the whole time. He must have brought a bag of clothes with him, because he dressed well.

"What is it?" I asked, biting my lip. His ripped blue jeans and faded maroon t-shirt hung over his body in a way that accented every muscle.

"Krysta is worried about what Dameon is up to; she hasn't figured it out yet and doesn't want you going to school without me...not with him there."

"She said that? Krysta?"

"She cares about you, too, Ali. She might not act like it, but she is Angelfire. Human kind is her priority."

"I didn't know." I lowered my head, feeling a bit ashamed of how little I thought of Krysta.

"Don't worry about it. Not many get along with her."

I didn't want to worry about it, but I kept going over in my mind how I'd treated her and how unfair I'd been.

"I'll try not to." I brushed my thick hair behind my ear as Kian brushed past my shoulder; his warmth kept me comfortable in the cool weather. "And you should put a jacket of some kind on. I mean, I realize you probably don't get cold like we humans do, but you don't want others looking at you funny."

He looked at himself, eyeing his legs and then his arms, bare from elbows down. "I have a jacket in my hidden backpack at the school."

"I hope so." I nearly rolled my eyes. "Because I don't think you'd like my pink coat." I gripped his arm, and we walked toward the sidewalk. Jen would be by soon. "So, this is kinda nice...you being by my side and all." I cozied up to him, my cheek to his chin.

"Don't get too comfortable; remember rule number 2."

"Yeah, yeah...rule number 2." And I finally did roll my eyes. Molly had rubbed off on me.

As Jen pulled up to the curb, her sedan sounded clunky, as if the vehicle could break down at any moment, and Mol hung her head over Jen straining to see Kian.

"What happened to your car?" I shouted as I bounced up to the back door.

"Is he coming with?" Mol yelled as I opened the back door.

"Yeah!" I huffed and slid in before Kian.

"Have you gone and lost your mind?" Mol widened her eyes at Kian's blushing face. "No jacket?"

"In the laundry. No worries; I've got one in my locker." Kian told her.

"So, back to the car...what happened?" I interrupted the mini-banter between my friend and my so-called-angel-boyfriend-protector...or whatever he was to me.

"An accident." Jen gulped, her voice filled with shame.

"You were in an accident?" I leaned forward between seats.

"Not my fault. Daddy's taking the jerk to court. We've got car repairs."

"Well I hope this doesn't break down on our way to school." I half giggled. Jen had never been one to do or have anything unreliable. If anything, she went out of her way to be responsible.

"It won't," Jen said firmly as she mashed the accelerator.

When we finally arrived at school, Jen parked in one of the few parking spaces available. We'd almost gotten there late. Again.

"Come on, guys!" Jen shouted, craning her neck to see us in the backseat. We jumped out of the car and hurried behind her and Molly.

"We're right behind ya," I retorted and tightened my grip on Kian's arm. The sight of the school brought everything into focus. I would be entering dangerous territory, entering the doors that separated the safety provided me by the presence of my friends, of me being with Kian to that of being alone in each of my classrooms for fifty minutes at a time.

"I can't believe I'm going to be late again!" Jen yelled, more at herself than anyone else. "Daddy is going to kill me!"

As she raced down the hall, her ponytail swaying, I shouted at her, "Just blame the car! Your teacher will understand." After all, Jen did have a car problem.

"Well, I'll see you two later." Molly dug her hands into her backpack and pulled out her painting, one she had evidently worked on the prior night. "I've got to get my masterpiece to art class before I get a zero." And her painting did look like a masterpiece, at least as well done as a Picasso. She had a way with shapes, strokes and colors. I admired her for her talent, a talent I could never attain. The closest I got to a Picasso painting was a stick figure.

"Later." I waved, and my second best friend disappeared.

Only Kian and I stood at my locker, a familiar story, but one I enjoyed. A slit of sunlight slid through the window in the hallway and covered Kian's left shoulder like a silk scarf. His eyes sparked amber for a quick second, and I remembered that I stood in the presence of someone celestial, some kind of awe-inspiring entity.

We walked to my first period class together; the velvety touch of Kian's arm on mine kept me entranced, as if the more time I spent with him, the more I could not be without him. "Are you leaving me now?" My hand hung on the English class doorknob. Through the rectangular window I could see the class full of inattentive students, and Dameon was positioned toward the back.

"You'll be fine." Kian encouraged, but I hardly heard him. I could feel my heart palpitating and my nerves cracking.

"What if..."

"No what ifs." Kian leaned toward me and whispered in my ear, "I'm always right here, protecting you. Don't be afraid. He can do nothing to you there, and remember, I'll be right here waiting at the door when the bell rings."

I nodded and then brushed my head against his soft cheek as I rested my chin on his shoulder. "I...I know." And I did know; he would never let anything happen to me. I felt that assurance in the deepest parts of me, the same assurance that told me the sun would rise each morning, or that the winter brought on the need of heavy coats.

I opened the door and smiled at Kian before staring at Dameon. Somehow, with Kian behind me as the door slowly shut, I felt empowered.

"Nice of you, Allison Maney, to finally join us." Mrs. Engstrom stated firmly.

"Sorry...the car..."

"No excuses. I'm marking you tardy."

"That's fine, Mrs. Engstrom." I slipped into my seat. All eyes were on me. I had become quite a spectacle...breaking up with one of the hottest new guys — Dameon — and hooking up with one of the other hot guys — Kian—who was also new to the school.

But I could feel the eerie heat of Dameon rising and falling off my shoulders and back. Even with Kian down the hall in his classroom and knowing he would be waiting for me after this English class, I felt like I had entered the inferno. Perhaps one of Dante's levels of hell? Squirming in my seat, I wanted to jump out of the desk and race to Kian just five doors down. But I held my breath instead. The fifty minutes would be over soon. In the mix of whispers and chatter in the classroom, where no one really listened to the teacher, Dameon couldn't be overheard very well, and he used that to his advantage.

"Amazing you're still alive. But Kian won't be able to protect you everywhere."

Then a bolt of bravery shot through me and I jolted around, my back twisting until I faced him. Eye-to-eye I stared him down like a bulldog. "I'm not the one who will need protecting." I growled, practically snarled and showed my incisors.

"Are you sure about that?" he said with such a cocky air about him that I had an unstoppable urge to slap his face. He smirked, and I just broke. Lunging over the back of my seat, my hands propelled toward his face and landed promptly around his neck. I squeezed, hardly knowing what had come over me. Vengeance? What goes around comes around? But for the first time, without Kian, I felt powerful, as if nothing could stop me. And then Mrs. Engstrom shouted from where she sat at her oversized desk.

"What has gotten into you?" She raced toward me with her arms all amuck, waving about in the air. "Stop it this instant!"

I caught myself, releasing my hands slowly as I watched the surprise in Dameon's expression. The trip to the principal's office was well worth it. I wore a grin the entire way.

The rest of the day carried a feeling of triumph for me as I walked the halls with Kian. I had stood up for myself and felt proud.

By the time of my last period Spanish class, I felt like I was floating on a cloud in the sky. This must be what Kian felt like all the time. Nothing could touch me. I had stood up to the biggest threat to my life. I could handle Dameon. But just to be sure, I kept my eye on the Spanish class door with its small rectangular window, the one where Kian would be standing just as soon as the last bell rang.

As the instructor tightened her blond ponytail and weaved through the desks to make sure all her students remained on task, I heard a loud bang! The sound echoed through the door as the door shook. Bang! Bang! Bang!

Mrs. Cuttle shuffled toward the door with a frantic expression on her face as my eyes fixed on the glass. Kian's nose pressed against the window as his hands nervously turned the knob. Fear rushed through his face as I watched his brows rise and cheeks flush with aggravation.

"Open the door! Open the door!" He banged on the Spanish class door fervently, in hopes that Mrs. Cuttle would finally open it.

"Whose friend is this?" Mrs. Cuttle looked around in search of the culprit.

"Mine, Mrs. Cuttle. Sorry; it will just be a sec."

"There will be no such thing. You know the rules, Miss Maney. There are no interruptions during class."

"But..."

"No buts!" Her ponytail flipped just like her flippant attitude as she turned toward the white board. "We will ignore him!"

With her back to the class and Kian banging again, I jumped to my feet and scurried over to the door. My hands strangled the doorknob. The locking latch sat right above the knob. As my left hand unlocked the latch, Mrs. Cuttle spun around and shouted, "Get yourself to the principal's office for a second time today, Miss. Maney!"

Kian flung the door open and flew inside the room in about a nanosecond.

"You all must get out of here now!" His words hit me hard.

"Dameon?" My face squished, but I knew Dameon could be the only reason for this dramatic disturbance. Kian, as marvelous as he was, would never bust into a room without good cause.

Mrs. Cuttle lunged toward Kian as if he were the antichrist and shouted again. "What are you doing in here? Get out now! I'm calling the front office!" She stepped toward the phone on the wall next to her oak desk.

The class grew quiet as all eyes were fixed on Kian and me. Before Kian, before Dameon, I had been the quiet girl whom not too many people knew. And now, I became the focal point of most discussions, the girl with the fastest growing reputation. Several mouths dropped open as Kian screamed at the class.

"Everyone must get out now! There is a bomb!"

Whispers ensued. Mrs. Cuttle stood silently, the words processing too slowly in her brain. She was not sure whether to believe this intruder or dismiss him. But the students, already too familiar with shocking events since the suicide, looked concerned. All at once, a decision dispersed throughout the room, some students were already racing toward the door, stumbling over each other.

The class stampeded out, leaving no room for me, the sure target and reason for this. As the room cleared and Mrs. Cuttle stood dazed and alone at the door, her faced turned to the movement in the outside window.

Crack! The window smashed to pieces all over the hard floor, and a round black ball rolled toward me.

"Ali! Ali!" Kian yelled. As he threw his arms around me, I felt his skin start feeling soft like feathers as he morphed.

"You can't!" I thought of his need to keep his identity secret, of how Mrs. Cuttle's knowledge of his angelic quality would lessen his power and make him weaker against Dameon.

"No time!" As he finished, the grenade exploded and sent shards of desks flying all over the room. I didn't feel anything except Kian's white feathers. I felt completely safe and warm.

When Kian finally did let me go, I opened my eyes and saw the room in complete shambles. Mrs. Cuttle had been hit in the head with a flying chunk of a desk and had fallen unconscious to the floor. Running over to her, Kian placed his finger over the artery in her neck to feel for a heartbeat.

"Is she alright?" I rushed up behind him.

"Yes, she will be fine. Hopefully the incident will make her question what she saw."

I nodded. I didn't know what to say. My eyes explored this crazy world in which I now stood and tried to make sense of it.

"We have to go now." Kian grabbed my arm. But I couldn't peel my eyes away from the instructor, her limp body.

"She will be fine." He emphasized will. My gaze finally met his. They were still the same amber eyes I had gotten to know at his place, but today they had a touch of fear in them, as if the world now rested on his shoulders. "Dameon won't take long to examine the carnage."

Nodding, I folded into Kian's chest as he guided me to the broken window. Holding me, he scrambled through the window and flew upward into the sky.
The Station

The next day school had been cancelled. Students were not expected to return to Millennium High until a full investigation had been completed, one my brother Samuel would surely soon be a part of.

I lay in my bed, my legs tangled in the sheets, wondering what Kian was doing and where he was. I had felt him with me all through the night, like a beacon of light in an otherwise dark world. He stayed with me every night, just in case Dameon made a move. But in the mornings, his whereabouts were as elusive as his powers.

I often imagined him playing piano at his mansion or fighting demons in the back alleys, but I never really knew for sure. He rarely told me what he did when he was not with me. Probably better that way; perhaps he'd be breaking some other rule or endangering my life if he told me.

In the middle of my quiet reverie, a loud pounding at my door jarred me to the present.

"You in there, squirt?" Samuel knocked again with what sounded like his elbow.

"Yeah! Where else am I gonna be?" I layered my retort in smart-ass.

"Then, are you gonna let me in?"

"What for?"

"We need to talk."

I slipped off my bed and plodded to the door. I was sure I knew what this would be about: yet another school-related discussion. Why did so much have to happen at Millennium High, anyway? By now, I couldn't decide if I would have been better off entering another school my freshman year. Would everything still have happened to me? Doubtful. I'd probably be dating the nice nerd in the back of my math class, enjoying a quiet evening with him, hanging out with my best friends on the weekends. That idea sounded good, but then I remembered Kian. I could never regret meeting him.

I stared my big brother in the eye, even though he towered over me.

"So, you gonna let me in or what?"

My hand still clutched the knob, but I opened the door further and motioned him in. "Come on."

I plopped down on my bed in a place where the vanity mirror on the opposite wall would provide a clear reflection of every facial expression I made. I became highly aware of how I looked: innocent or guilty.

Samuel stood next to me, his black-blue uniform reminding me how deviant I'd become. I hadn't lied to my family so much in all my life. Since Dad's death, we had all promised to remain close, to tell each other everything. I'd broken that promise one too many times since all this demon-angel activity began. I felt guilty, but what could I do? The truth could literally kill Mom and Samuel and weaken Kian to the point that he would be open to Dameon's attacks. I wouldn't risk their lives.

When Samuel sat down beside me and placed his hand on my shoulder, my eyes veered away from the mirror and in his direction.

"So, the grenade going off in your Spanish class must have really shaken you up."

"You could say that again." I shivered. Despite the fact that I knew who threw the grenade and why, I still felt out-of-sorts.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

What could I say? But I knew if I said nothing, he wouldn't let it go and might become even more suspicious of me and of what is really going on at that school.

I fidgeted. "I feel in shock. I mean..."

Rubbing my back, he offered the explanation. "Yeah, first Tommy Bachelor dies in front of you in English class, and now a grenade goes off in Spanish class. You must be a ball of riddled nerves."

"Yeah." I nestled my head between his shoulder and neck.

"Well, Mom and I don't want you returning to Millennium High."

My head darted up. "Like ever?"

"Yes."

"But what about my friends? What about Molly and Jennifer, and what about my assignments? And graduation?" I could see my reflection in the mirror now, my face reflecting disagreement and worry. Eyes bulging, lips contorting.

"Don't worry. Mom called the school already. Your instructors will send your assignments to the house, and you'll finish your schooling here. You can still see your friends after your schoolwork is done or on the weekends."

He sounded so rational, so like Samuel.

"Okay, okay." My brain absorbed the information, the drastic change, as I breathed heavily. In a way this might be better. Kian would have more control over where we went and how he could protect me. He wouldn't have to leave me alone for fifty minutes each period.

"Mom and I talked last night, and we want you safe. Having a grenade go off at the school is very dangerous, and then for you to be in the class where it happened...." He shook his head. "Mom's nerves are shot."

My gaze met Samuel's again. "Tell Mom I'm fine. I'm fine, really. I don't want you guys worrying about me."

"You need to tell her yourself. It would sound better coming from you. Besides, I have to head off for work."

"Investigating the grenade incident?"

"Yes." Samuel stood, his silver badge shining in the mirror's reflection. He sighed as he looked at me, like he wanted to say more but couldn't just yet. I had a hunch it had to do with Tommy Bachelor. I'm sure he suspected that the two catastrophes were related. That is how his mind worked. After all, what were the odds of two unlikely, unrelated events?

"Later?" I smiled as he stepped out the door.

"Later."

He shut the door behind him, and then I changed into a pair of faded jeans and an avocado-colored sweater. Vigorously, I brushed my teeth in the bathroom as I stared at my reflection in the mirror again. A reflection of shapes. But this time I didn't see contorted skin or worry lines or bunched nerves. I focused on Kian and on my bravery in English class yesterday...on how I stood up to Dameon. Maybe I could do this?

Skipping my morning shower, I bounced down the steps to the kitchen where Mom was cooking eggs and bacon. The room smelled so good! Fixing us both a plate, Mom sat across from me at the wooden table.

"So, Samuel told me he had a chat with you." Mom broke the ice.

"Yeah." My eyes widened in the way they do when I'm unsure of what to say.

"Went well?"

I shrugged. "I guess. I do feel better. I don't want you or Sam to worry. I'm doing well. I really am. I mean I am...I was shaken up a bit from the explosion, but I'm fine. Really!"

"How did you manage to keep yourself out of harm's way?" Mom's fork laid limp in her hand as her stark eyes focused on me. Her look showed me exactly how scared she had been.

I shrugged again. "I...I bolted through the door just before it went off, I guess."

"Mrs. Cuttle says she saw you in the room with her when the grenade went off...and that she thought she saw someone else too."

I almost choked on my eggs. "Someone else?"

"She said she couldn't be sure because debris hit her head and knocked her out, but that she thought she saw someone protecting you; wrapping his body around you as the grenade went off." A quizzical line broke between her brows.

"I don't know what to say." My eyes fell to the plate. "No one else was in the room with me and Mrs. Cuttle. I raced to the door as soon as the grenade smashed through the window. I was the last one out...I mean except for Mrs. Cuttle."

"Well, I'm just glad you are alright. You do know you will have to give a statement to the police? They are taking statements from everyone who was in the room."

"Can't Samuel take it?"

"Well, the Chief said he wants all the Spanish students at the station today. Everyone will be questioned, including Mrs. Cuttle. Besides, your brother will be busy at Millennium High investigating the scene with CSI. He is the head investigator on the case"

"I see."

"Well, if you don't feel up to it, I will call in and tell them you'll stop by Saturday instead."

"No, I'm fine. I can do this."

After we finished breakfast, Mom drove me to the police station. I had almost forgotten what the building looked like, I hadn't been there in so long. A rectangular brick structure with a few front windows. Two heavy doors at the entrance. As I stepped through the doors, I heard the echo of my footsteps over the long corridor covered in black and white tile.

To the right set a square room with inviting windows. Almost everyone from my Spanish class sat in the chairs provided there. A few students paced, and some gathered in groups. I could hear them mumbling. "Is this gonna take long?" "I'm missing the game." "We don't know anything!" "Why do we have to be here?"

"Miss Allison Maney?" I heard my name called over the intercom.

"That's you, kid." Mom kissed me on the cheek and pushed me off in the direction of the front office as she ambled over to the vending machine in the room. As a Pepsi clunked to the bottom of the machine tray, an officer appeared in front of me. 6'1", dirty-blond hair, grey-blue eyes, athletic build. His uniform appeared spotless and crisp, as if it had been ironed just minutes ago. Then I felt sorry for Samuel. This officer was the man he had to measure up to everyday, be scrutinized by. His competitive peers. No wonder Samuel spent hours perfecting his uniform.

"Allison Maney?" His thick brow cut like an arrow over his eye.

"Yes, sir."

"Come with me."

I followed behind the robust man, feeling as if I had failed a test or been sent to the principal's office or something. Maybe he knew I somehow was involved. Why else would he call me before the others?

We stepped into his office, and he shut the door. "Please take a seat." He motioned me to the seat in front of his desk as he sat behind it. The desk was filled with pictures of his family, a wife and two kids, and a pad of paper, a few pens, a desk calendar, and a folder which lay smack in the middle. After I sat, the officer lifted the folder and ruffled through the papers.

"What do you need me for, sir?" I swallowed hard, a dead giveaway for my nervousness to any semi-observant person.

"Don't look so worried, Allison. I'm Officer Zachis, and the only reason you are here first is because you are Sergeant Maney's sister. I didn't want to waste your day by making you sit in the police station. I'll have you in and out in a jiffy."

"Oh." I sighed, relieved, and sat back in the chair, uncrossing my legs.

"I just needed to know what you saw yesterday in Spanish class. Did you see anyone suspicious throwing the grenade? Anything strange happen before or after class that you remember?"

"Not really." I shook my head while I stared at the floor. Then I remembered that avoiding eye contact made a person look guilty.

"Try to think. I know it must be difficult, but did you hear anyone say anything that might be helpful?"

I pretended to contemplate, rubbing my forehead as if I were deep in thought. "No, I'm sorry."

"Do you think this could have anything to do with a tiff between a student and Mrs. Cuttle?"

"Mrs. Cuttle? No way! I mean, she does get on our nerves sometimes, but I don't think anyone hates her enough to want her dead."

"And any of the other students? Do you think someone might want one of them dead?"

My mind raced to Dameon and me and how this age-old war between angels and demons could be the catalyst for it all, and how me butting my nose into demon business could have been the trigger. "No." I shook my head vehemently. "No, I don't know of anyone." Then I thought of Clark and what an ass he'd been to so many of his peers. "Well..."

"Well, what? Did you remember something?"

"I saw Clark pushing around some kids once. He seems to have a real temper. You might want to check him out." After all, a few police investigators looking into Clark's business might do him some good.

"Will do. Thanks, Allison."

"It's Ali."

"Ali; I'm sorry." The officer cleared his throat. "Well, if you remember anything else, please let us know."

"I will." I stood, feeling like a bird released from her cage.

The officer held the door open for me, and I stepped out and returned to the room where the other students were clustered in groups. Mom held the empty Pepsi can in her hand as she inhaled the last sip. She was leaning against the door, and she straightened as she saw me coming toward her.

Some of the students had been sequestered in other rooms with other investigators, surely being asked the same routine questions. I wondered if this inquiry would actually lead to anything substantial. If we got lucky, maybe the police would find Dameon's fingerprints on the grenade fragments and send a few squad cars after him. But surely I'd never be so lucky.

"You ready to go, Ali?" Mom opened the door and threw her arm around my shoulder.

"Definitely."

As Mom and I walked back to her car, I looked up and saw a white wing flutter behind one of the clouds in the sky. I smiled.
On Edge

"Do you think they'll let us in soon? I rubbed my arms, trying to warm them. We were standing in line at the hottest dance club in town. People had raved about The Edge since its opening, and it quickly became a selective club. But Molly and Jennifer talked me into going, and since Jen-nifer's dad had connections, we had a sure spot.

"Soon, Ali, soon." Jennifer answered. I was wearing a red satin dress and had bunched its satin shawl up in my arms. She smoothed the fabric over my shoulders. "And keep yourself somewhat warm while we wait, for heaven's sake."

Molly's cheeks flushed red as she stood in front of me. Her grin was a sure sign of approval for our impromptu excursion. "Can't wait to get inside. Sounds like a blast!" The music thumped against the doors and beneath our feet. I almost wanted to start dancing then and there just to keep warm. I hadn't wanted to bring a heavy coat I'd have to watch while we were in the club. I only needed my dress, my tiny purse strapped around my shoulder and a chance to get inside in the next five minutes before I froze.

"Next!" The door attendant pointed to us, and we pounced over him as he held his hand up in refusal to a couple standing behind us. Guess they didn't make the list.

Inside, the club was a dark room clouded with artificial smoke and fog. Strobe lights flashed against the ceiling. A gold tiled dance floor sparkled under the strobes, and leather booths along the walls glowed softly, lighted by the chandeliers that hung over them. Pop music, rap, and hip hop permeated The Edge. Corners in the room were cluttered with spectators, and the dance floor was filled with those brave enough to show off their latest moves.

"Come on!" Molly grabbed my arm and pulled me toward an empty booth along the far wall, with Jen tagging closely behind.

"Let's order a few cocktails. Virgins of course." Jennifer shuffled through the black and gold checkered menu.

"Virgins! I've got us IDs." Molly stuffed her hand into the fake Louis Vuitton bag that hung over her shoulder and handed us each our very own driver's license, showing us to be twenty one years of age.

"Mol!" Jennifer's mouth dropped open.

"As if you didn't think it yourself!" Mol defended her actions. "So, take them." She shoved the card into Jen's hands, and I reached for mine.

"Well, I guess I'll be having a Mojito!" I laughed.

"I'm dying to try the Piña Colada!" Mol joined in, and Jen took a second to warm up to the idea before giving in as I teased her with the gorgeous menu items. As the menu oscillated in front of her and the colorful images of drinks danced in front of her eyes, she finally answered.

"Alright, I guess I'll have...the White Russian." When our waitress arrived at our table, Jennifer also ordered a side of Curly Fries and Mozzarella sticks for us all to share. "Can't drink on an empty stomach."

The waitress set down three glasses of water and then went to the bar to fill our order.

"So do we dance?" Jen asked, as if we needed encouraging. Mol rolled her eyes and jumped up, crawling over me to get to the floor, her red jumper suit rumpling.

"Let's go!" Mol shouted over the music of Lady Gaga's latest release.

I bounced out of my seat and grabbed Mol's hand while Jennifer played catch-up five seconds later. On the dance floor we forgot everything that happened at Millennium High. Tommy Bachelor vanished. My near death experience in Spanish class vaporized. Dameon who? I even came close to forgetting Kian.

With two drinks down and music vibrating inside my soul, I couldn't imagine a better high. Nothing felt so good.

Molly moved like she'd been there a hundred times before, while Jennifer swayed comfortably side to side until she felt brave enough to try something new. Hitting my butt against Molly's, we both giggled and swirled. A Latino man darted between me and Molly to get to Jennifer. Something about her wide hips attracted him.

When Shakira's music blared over the speakers, the Latino gripped Jennifer's shoulders and pulled her into his guiding arms. She stayed attached like glue to paper for most of the dance, until the sexy tanned Latino spun her away from him, still keeping a sure hold on her hand, and then ripped her back into his chest. Her feet shuffled quickly over the floor as she hit him hard. With a grateful smile he let her go, and she blushed, not sure whether to be outraged or pleased.

With Jennifer finally letting loose — and all it took was a man — Molly and I lost ourselves in the music and ordered another round of drinks. Making it back to our red booth, Molly slid in next to the wall as I downed another Mojito before I even sat down. Jennifer sat across from Molly and watched the man who took her breath away from a distance. Evidently, he enjoyed dancing with a variety of woman that night, but after an hour, he finally made his way back to our table and set his stone-black eyes on Jen.

They must have enjoyed each other's company quite a lot, because after he made his way to our table, Jennifer invited him to sit, and they locked on each other's gaze for some time...as if Mol and I had just disappeared from existence.

About the same time, my stomach began to churn, and I felt like I might just hurl. As I raced to the bathroom, I could hear Molly chuckling at my misfortune. But I didn't have time to argue with her at the table; I had to make it into one of the stalls.

My fingers gripped the toilet seat as my head felt excruciating and dizzy. My eyes could only see the yellowish water below me, and the bathroom reeked of stale, disposable air.

After throwing up once and watching the chunks swirl around and around down the toilet bowl, I closed the lid and sat down. The stall remained locked and the bathroom didn't grow quiet until after two young ladies giggling arm in arm headed out the exit door. Suddenly, I sat in the bathroom alone. Eerie, quiet and alone.

With my knees bent and my head hanging, supported by my cupped hands, I suddenly smelled something different — silky, musty — and then a dark shadow darkened the floor around me. I felt the presence of darkness like one feels the sun on skin. Hairs prickled as I raised my head and looked upward.

Black, ridged wings hovered over me, and I saw my life flash before my eyes. Up close, I could see the curious wings better now; more like the wings of a bat, leathery, not at all fluffy and soft like Kian's wings. Black, deep set eyes stabbed into my own as I took in a deep breath. About to scream, I opened my mouth. But Dameon fell on top of me and knocked the wind out of me.

Rolling back and forth on the bathroom floor, the two of us struggled. I remained underneath this monstrosity, this set of ominous dark wings that at times felt like hell itself, and Dameon, this demon, determined to finally kill me and regain his lost Essence Power.

Like a ship on a stormy sea, I lost balance and spun out of control, but Dameon's hold tightened around my arms, his weight so heavy that I could not pick myself off the floor of the stall. His large wing hit the door and it flung open. I hoped someone would walk into the bathroom and scare Dameon away; perhaps Molly in search of me? Intrusion might be my only hope. I could not push the demon off of me. He simply had too much strength.

Tears began to slip out of my eyes, though I did not want my last moments to be spent in fear or regret. I fought to keep the tears at bay and hardened my expression. If I would die today, I would die bravely. Gritting my teeth, I bit Dameon's arm and then his hand.

"You bitch!" Dameon cried. Perhaps I had hurt him a little. He slapped my head with his other hand.

I couldn't be too sure what happened then. I felt my forehead hit the tiled floor, and I saw my own blood, crimson blood, spill into the creases and grooves. I heard a window smash, and, as I lost consciousness, I felt Dameon's weight lift off of me.

I heard a rustling sound all around me, but I didn't see any white wings. I saw a hard, athletic body...more like a man. This mystery man pounced on top of Dameon like Hercules. I didn't want to question it, but I wondered if what — if who — I saw had more to do with the blood slowly draining from my forehead and less to do with a real event. But I didn't feel Dameon on top of me anymore. Maybe I really had fallen unconscious. Perhaps Dameon had already taken my limp body out of The Edge through the window I had heard smash earlier, and now he had thrown me into the nearby river. Could I be drowning?

As my lids drooped and I hung in a state somewhere between heaven and Earth, I saw the oversized man lunge toward a set of black wings. Mostly, I could only see the large leathery bat-like wings standing in front of me, but I saw the man out of the corner of my eye. When the man hit Dameon again, the demon fell over as if this man somehow had strength the dark angel did not.

Crawling forward, I dug my nails into the tiled floor. I wanted to pull my body out of the stall. If this was real, if this unidentified man didn't defeat Dameon, I had to be ready to bolt. Each motion of my hand felt as if I were moving a ton of bricks. I couldn't be sure how far I pulled myself. As I heard the two males collide and fall against the sinks, I must have finally managed to make it to the bathroom door. I threw my hand over the knob and pulled myself up slowly, falling back down only once. With the knob helping to keep me balanced, I tried to open the door. Jammed. Blood dripped from my forehead to my hand on the knob as my eyes searched the latch. Locked. That bastard Dameon must have snuck in and locked the door while I sat on my knees puking in the stall.

Unlocking the latch, I pushed the door open with the full weight of my body. I had little strength left in my hands and arms, and my legs were questionable. I stumbled outside the bathroom, and my hands fumbled over the banister and along the wall to keep me upright.

When I made it to the entryway, I could see our table straight ahead against the far wall. If I could just make it to the table, I might have a fighting chance of getting out of here alive...that is if I truly was still here and not unconscious somewhere dreaming all of this.

Like a drunk, I stumbled to my table with a few dancers pushing me along on my journey. The dark room kept my wounds hidden. Besides who would care in The Edge? Drunk and dancing. I probably seemed out of it, reeking of alcohol. But when I arrived at the booth where Molly sat, she immediately saw that something was seriously wrong.

"Ali! Good God, what happened?"

I held my forehead with my hand. "I was attacked..."

"Where?"

"In the bathroom. I just want to get out of here." I exploded into a fountain of tears and held my reddening face in my hands. Part of me wanted to stay strong, but I just could not be strong anymore. I had almost died, three times. Dameon came so close to killing me, even closer than the first time, that I worried about what would happen next time. Would he finally accomplish his goal?

"What's going on?" Jennifer bounced up behind us with the sexy Latino at her side.

"We're getting out of here." Mol looked angry and stomped her foot.

"But we just got here; it's finally getting fun." Jen protested.

"Just come on!" Molly held my arm and walked with me as she snatched Jen's forearm with the other hand and pulled her along angrily. I stayed close to Mol, my head near her shoulder, my feet marching along beside hers. She moved slowly for my benefit, but I could see that she was extremely upset. I didn't have to go into details with her. The mere fact that someone hurt me, hurt any of her friends, would send a shiver of rage down her spine.

When we reached the exit door, the doorman looked us up and down. "Going already?"

"Yeah, look at her face!" Mol reacted furiously. "Someone inside hit her!"

"I'm so sorry...I'll send security in immediately."

"Yeah, you do that...but we're not coming back." Mol retorted shoving both Jen and me, propelling us all forward.

As we plodded hand in hand to Jennifer's sedan I wondered where Kian had been all this time. My protector hadn't shown up. Instead, a stranger came to my rescue. Instead, my best friend Molly had saved me from sure detriment if I couldn't find my way out of that club!

Sliding into the backseat of the car and eyeing my wounds in the rearview mirror lit from the dome light, I saw that the gash in my forehead looked deep, and the black and blue marks that would mark my body tomorrow would send Mom and Samuel into a hissy. I decided to keep my wounds a secret, but whenever I next saw Kian, I would have to give him a piece of my mind.

When we pulled up into my driveway, I needed help from Molly to get out of the car. She helped me to the door, and then I waved goodbye to both of my friends as I watched the sedan drive away from the house. I had to sneak around the banister and quickly up the steps to avoid Mom seeing me. Samuel would be out late; he usually stayed at the police station or out with his colleagues on Saturdays.

"Is that you?" Mom called up to me from the rocking chair in the living room.

"Yeah, Mom. It's me." My foot stopped momentarily as I spoke. I kept my back to her and my eyes on the top step.

"Home early."

"Wasn't as much fun as we thought. Going to bed."

"Just glad you're home, kiddo."

I scrambled upstairs and headed straight to the bathroom. I had to clean up. I stayed in the shower for a long thirty minutes, raking my fingers through my blood-caked hair under extra warm water. As I checked my forehead wounds, I felt a deep gouge. Rubbing ointment over the abrasions on my head, elbows, wrists and chest, I then bandaged up a few scrapes on my knees. Brawling with a demon had its consequences.
Transitions

Finally the weekend had arrived, and as I awoke I could see the vague outline of Kian near my bedroom window. With his form in some kind of flux between fog and skin, I rolled to my knees and stared. Wide-eyed like a deer, I must have looked like an amateur to all of this angel stuff. In a way I still felt like one. Despite everything I'd been through, I didn't know how to defend my-self from Dameon; I didn't know enough about the angel-demon world to keep myself safe. There were so many details I still had to learn!

Hovering over my carpet in the dim morning, Kian glided toward the bed and laid his translucent hands over the wooden rail. He looked pale and wintery. As his hands became flesh, celestial wings sprawled out behind him and amber eyes shone like a newly lit fire. His angelic appearance made me forget for an instant that I had almost died yesterday.

Then I blinked and remembered.

Lunging at him, I threw my fists at him. "Where were you yesterday?" My face flushed hot red. "I could have been killed! Dameon followed me to the dance club!" I couldn't get the words out of my mouth fast enough. "He nearly strangled me to death!" I could only hope the heated words had been muffled by the door well enough to keep from alarming Mom. "All I hear is what he called me: 'You bitch!'" Dameon's voice bellowed in my brain, the words I had heard as I hit my head.

Kian reached out and laid his hands on my shoulders. "Take a breath Ali. I didn't leave you alone. I would never leave you...I sent Jacob to watch over you."

"Jacob?" My voice lingered between pissed and curious.

"You haven't met him, but you will. I trust him completely."

"You pawned me off to some other angel? Have you given up on me already?" I fumed irrationally. My cotton pajamas stuck to my skin.

"No." Kian shook his head and leaned into me. "I had to be somewhere."

"Where?"

"Another human in danger. She would have died if I had not arrived on time."

"More important than me?"

"Of course not." Shaking his head, Kian fluttered next to me and wrapped his arms around my shaking body. "Don't be like this." I let my head rest against his cheek, and a feather fell from his wings.

"Then why?" I whined.

"Because I could help her; all the other angels would have taken too long to get there, and you were not in any immediate danger. Besides, Jacob arrived before I left. He is a strong fighter. Perhaps even better than me."

"Who is she?"

"Just a human in the wrong place at the wrong time. A few muggers wanted her purse, and she fought. They pulled a knife and stabbed her. They would have killed her, too, had I not flown to her aid."

I lowered my head, a bit ashamed of myself. Kian had a lot on his plate. He protected the city, not just me, and I had better get used to that fact. I had to share him with the city, or else who knew how bad New York could get?

His warm feathers felt like embers, not too hot or cold...just right. I basked in his presence for a minute before pulling myself away, and I really had to try hard to pull away. His milky scent and airy influence always kept me returning.

"So, were you here the whole night...watching me?"

"Most of the night, yes." He blushed like he'd seen something he shouldn't have, and the way he looked at me made my stomach swirl with nervous butterflies. "Sometimes I stayed in the skies."

I looked up at him as I responded calmly. "Well, thanks." I bounced off the bed like a jack rabbit and headed to my closet. "So, what are we going to do today?" I brushed my fingers over the various clothes on hangers.

"Well, I'd like to take you back to my place to meet Jacob, if you don't mind?"

"Mind? I'd love to!" I beamed.

"Well then, I'll leave you to get changed." Flitting to the window, he vaporized in microseconds. My gaze stayed fixed in awe on his metamorphosis, and then I turned to the closet filled with clothes. Piles of clothes, really. At least twenty pairs of jeans, an eclectic mix of shirts, hats, boots, a few heavy coats, and many sweaters. Too many sweaters to count.

I yanked out a crimson colored hat and sweater along with a pair of blue jeans and a white wool coat. The air felt chilly yesterday, and I didn't want to get sick. After all, I had wounds to heal from all the demon-fighting yesterday. More of a demon-beating, but I liked to think I got in a few good punches.

After showering and dressing, I took a long look at myself in the vanity mirror in my room. I saw a black and blue cheek and an obvious reddish-pink scrape on my forehead and neck. Using foundation and blush, I managed to hide my cheek bruises, and the hat and coat collar hid what the makeup didn't. I hopped downstairs to kiss Mom and to scarf down my oatmeal before heading out with Kian.

"Where are you going, and when will you be back?" Kian stood outside the front door in his human guise. I could see the top of his head through the door's rectangular window.

"I'm going out with a friend. Just hanging out nearby, and I'll be back before ten."

"Ten tonight?"

"Sure, Mom; it is Saturday. You let me go to The Edge Friday night."

"That was different."

"How?"

"You went with your girlfriends. Girlfriends I know."

"Well, maybe you can meet Kian. He's right outside."

She inspected the top of his head through the small door-window and nodded. She walked beside me to the front door, and I swung it open with confidence. Kian smiled a welcoming smile and extended his hand to shake Mom's.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Kian. I go to Millennium High with Ali."

"You two have been hanging out a lot?" Mom fished to find out how serious our relationship really was.

"Sometimes, Mrs. Maney."

"We hang out at lunch with Molly and Jen," I told her.

"I see." Mom bit her lip. I knew she worried about me since she saw Dameon upstairs with me. She didn't want me getting hurt. Losing Dad had been hurt enough. "Well, take care of my Ali while you two are out and about."

"Yes, ma'am." Kian snapped to attention like a Marine.

"And have her back by ten at the latest." Mom sounded firm, more firm than usual.

"I will." Kian took my hand, and Mom glared at our touch as I stepped out of the house.

When the door shut, I could still feel Mom's glare on me, on us. "You know she is going to watch us until we are out of her sight," I commented with a chuckle.

"I figured as much."

"So no vaporizing or morphing," I joked.

"I'll try to restrain myself." He bumped his hip against mine deliberately and smiled.

"So are we going to walk the whole way?" I looked down at my expensive UGG boots and wondered if they'd be spoiled in the streets.

"No."

"Fly?" My eyes caught a passing cloud.

"No," Kian stepped off the sidewalk and hailed a passing cab. "We are going to travel New York style."

My body shook in laughter as I slid into the backseat of the yellow marked taxi cab. The Indian-descent cab driver raked his fingers through blue-black hair before eyeing us in the leathered backseat. "Where to?"

"Manhattan, Eagle Lake."

"That's a pretty large place. Any address?" The dark skinned man grumbled, his accent heavy.

"At the end of North Eagle Lake Rd."

My knees leaned toward Kian, and I played with my thumbs as my hands lay in my lap. Turning to Kian, I whispered, "So are you ever going to train me how to fight for myself? After all, Dameon might slip by Angelfire again...and then what?"

Kian paused, deep in thought as he gazed out the back window. "I will, but first you must learn more about us."

I couldn't argue with that suggestion. I'd been wanting to know more about Angelfire since I had heard the name. I'd only had one opportunity to explore the immense library inside the Angelfire mansion. I hadn't talked to any other angels besides Kian, his duo, and Sammael, of course. At least, no other angels I'd known to be angels.

"Will Sammael be fine with me being there?"

"Yes; he knows you're coming. No human is allowed inside without his permission.'

"Oh."

"There are only a handful of humans allowed inside Angelfire walls."

"More than me?"

"A couple more."

"Who?"

"An old man of about sixty, Josh Stagger. Sammael met him long ago, during some of the earlier demon-angel wars. Sammael trusts him implicitly. You might see him from time to time speaking with Sammael."

"What about?" I tilted my head in Kian's direction.

"Survival mostly. Human survival."

I swallowed hard. "And who else?"

"Lucianda."

"Who?"

"She is a close friend of Jacob's. You will meet her today and learn all about the two of them."

"I will?"

"Sure, unless you don't want to."

"No, I want to." I said eagerly. "Anyone else?"

"Nope, just you three. Although we have had a few break-ins over the years. Probably from burglars thinking they could score a rich heist."

"What happened?"

"A broken window now and then. Nathaniel scared them straight." Kian laughed hard into his hands. "Sammael has improved security since then."

"I would hope so!" A dimple formed in my cheek with my half-smile.

"So how are you feeling since last night?" Kian touched my sore cheek with his pinky; the light caress felt soothing.

"I have to admit I was shaken up a bit, but I really do feel better now. After a long sleep and warm shower and, well...you're here. I feel good."

"I'm really sorry I wasn't there to protect you when Dameon hit. We had no reason to think he would be there. Krysta saw him miles away pacing back and forth in an alley, and Nathaniel had his eyes on a few other demons who were also miles away."

"I had Jacob," I told him. "Let's not quarrel over it. But I am anxious to meet this angel who saved my life."

"Yes, we both have a lot to thank him for." Kian kissed my wounded cheek, and I let my head nestle against his neck as a few feathers plummeted from his covered back to the leather car seat.

He looked handsome in his black suit jacket and white button-down undershirt. Paired with a pair of blue jeans, he could have been off the cover of GQ Magazine. But instead, he sat here with me in the backseat of a cab. Not on a magazine, not in the clouds, not in his mansion.

I wrapped my arm around his as the cab stopped in front of Kian's place, and we stepped out together. Kian handed the driver a stash of cash from the wallet he carried in his back pocket.

"Thanks."

Kian turned away from the cab and squeezed my arm tightly as he walked me to the back entrance. We unlatched arms so Kian could pry open the iron door. I followed him up the staircase.

At the top, I admired the hardwood floor and lone piano in the center of the otherwise empty room. Besides a few statues and paintings, the room looked bare, just as it had the first time I saw it.

"Angels must not like furniture," I commented under my breath.

"We are more minimalistic creatures," Kian responded as he guided me to the next room, the crimson room. The library looked the same, still a large bookcase filled with encyclopedia-like information about this unknown angel-demon world.

"Do you mind?" I nudged Kian as I pulled a book off the shelf.

"No, go ahead. Sammael encourages you to read our histories. This will better prepare you for attacks."

I swallowed hard. I never got used to thinking about myself as someone in fights. I never once got into a fight with a student at school. Molly, on the other hand, had fought a few times (at school and on the streets), but me? Never. And now, I had fought with a demon several times. I guess that, next to a demon, fighting a student would be nothing, but I didn't really want to find out.

The book I pulled had a black cover with an etched dragon in the center, and it felt ominous just looking at it...as if by opening it, I would allow the whole of the dark legions to come after me. Turning to the first page, I read about how darkness filled the souls of man and sin increased. Angels born of man would be the balance needed to set humanity right again. But then some of the angels relished in the darkness too and turned into demons. A war waged between angels and demons, the former trying to keep the light and the latter trying to overcome the light with darkness.

The book got a bit deep and used a lot of metaphors and symbolism. I couldn't be sure ex-actly how much of the book to take literally and how much to take in allegory. But then, I sat here on the floor of a mansion with an angel in my midst. Who was I to say what was a metaphor and what was not?
Jacob

While I sprawled over the floor with my legs spread out and the black book flat in my lap, a tall older man walked into the room from the mysterious mahogany door I had yet to enter. In this crimson colored room, I blended in with my sweater. Strolling up in a nonchalant fashion, he hugged Kian before squatting to meet me eye to eye.

"You must be Ali. You look different without blood all over you."

I half-grimaced and half-smiled as he gave me his hand. Taking his offer, I stood and returned the book hastily to the shelf.

"You must be Jacob." I rubbed my dusty hands over my jeans before I shook his hand.

"At your service." The red stubble on his chin matched his red curly hair. Aqua-green eyes felt soft and endearing. Nothing about him felt abrasive. His was perhaps the softest angel presence I'd encountered, even compared to Kian, which said a lot about him.

"I wanted to thank you for saving me the other night. I don't know what I would have done."

"You would have had your hands full...but don't mention it. That is what I am here for, what Kian is here for. Heck, what we all are here for. To protect humans, especially from demons."

"And from other humans?"

"Sometimes...and sometimes, even from themselves. I can't tell you how many humans I've talked off the ledge. Just a quiet voice in their ear telling them everything will be fine."

Jacob wore beige slacks and an off-white cotton t-shirt. For an older man of about forty, he appeared well-chiseled around the abs and arms. Even his legs looked well-toned.

"Well, thanks. For everything I guess."

"So how did you two lovebirds meet, anyway?" Jacob didn't beat around the bush.

Kian and I both blushed simultaneously.

"We're not..." I stumbled.

"Not lovebirds." Kian fidgeted.

"Sure you are. I can see the amour in the way you two look at each other. Doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure this one out." Jacob had an accent I couldn't place; somewhere between French and Italian.

When I looked at Kian we smiled at each other and maybe for the first time felt completely comfortable about our feelings for each other.

Jacob continued, "Despite the rules of Angelfire forbidding your intimate touch, the two of you can still spend time together. I know how that longing feels...better than most."

"You do?" I could sense that he wanted to tell me his story, a story Kian had to be familiar with already.

"Ahhh...sweet love. Look at what it has done to me." Jacob vaporized for a quick second before his flesh transformed into ragged wings and, instead of the usual angel-glow, his skin dimmed. Mossy eyes became emerald in color. The only proof he used to be an angel.

What stood before me paled in comparison to Kian's majestic angel form. Instead of fluffy wings, Jacob had arched bare white bones where soft, feathery wings should have been attached to his body. The bottom of the bone had a few patches of feathers, and I suddenly felt very sad for him.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I fell in love with Lucianda and lost most of my wings." I didn't want to get into the details, but I gathered that Jacob and Lucianda must have touched and been intimate many times to have resulted in such bareness.

Rubbing his hands over his dull shoulders and arms, he continued, and I felt even sorrier for him, because his color should have been brilliant. "My color is lost because my Essence is weak."

"But how?" I shook my head in wonder.

"I revealed myself to Lucianda, and while I was trying to save her family from a demon, I revealed myself to them. I wanted to become mortal again. I wanted to be with Lucianda. But in the end, the demons killed her entire family and left her alone. Now, she has only me, and I, only her. I have all but lost my wings and my Essence. But my gifts remain. I've never harmed a human."

Kian interjected, "Jacob is still excellent at hearing and seeing great distances." He sounded like he wanted to rush over the fact that Lucianda's entire family had been killed, by demons none-the-less!

"Her family was killed!"

"Jacob!" Kian nudged him in the side.

"Well, her family would have been safe had I not been so insistent in my love for her. My passion brought danger into their lives. I spent too much time with her, and eventually her brother saw me...my angel form. This drew the attention of the demons, because, as you know, once a human discovers the truth of our existence, the entire supernatural world feels the shift of power weaken. If I hadn't been so selfish, her family would still be alive today."

I wanted to ask more about what happened to the family, but I could see a tear leave a crystal track down his cheek and didn't want to conjure up past pain. But Jacob volunteered the information.

"Demons came to the house to kill the brother, and I had to reveal myself to fight them. Two demons! The family saw me and the demons, and more Essence deteriorated in the supernatural realm. Of course, more so with the demons and myself. I saved her brother that day, but the demons returned. I wasn't prepared, and they killed him. I eventually killed the demons, but not before they murdered her sister and parents."

"Good God." I breathed heavily.

"This is why we have the rules. This is why I warn you to not get too close. Spend time together, but keep the rules. Whenever anyone is intimate, his guard is down; he doesn't hear or see as well. Had I been vigilant, I would have heard her brother coming to the room and could have become mist, become human." He shook his head.

The room grew quiet and then I had a question.

"But Jacob, if you have such little angel power, how did you fight Dameon?" My forehead wrinkled; I was confused.

Kian responded, "Jacob is still a skilled warrior. More of a human warrior now with heightened senses, but he doesn't have to rely on angel powers to fight the demons. He is well experienced in battle and quite buff. Besides, his gift for calming those around him allows him to kill demons with their guard down."

I searched Jacob up and down and couldn't refute the point.

"Dameon's Essence is weaker now because of you, Ali, and though his Essence is not as weak as mine, this fact does make him easier to fight." Jacob added, "Because he tried killing you on several occasions, he has also all but lost his Gift Power."

"What was it?"

"Fire from his hands," Kian retorted, and then Jacob continued.

"But this doesn't mean he is an easy target. He is still one of the more powerful demons, and we are not sure why. We still have to be very careful with Dameon. He is as clever as he is evil."

"I don't get it; why is he so evil? Why would any angel choose to be demon?" I huffed in frustration. Frustration for my situation; frustration for not understanding.

"Because, Ali..." Kian pressed his hand on my shoulder, "they can have powers they can't have as angels. They can do what they want when they want. Take what they want. They don't have to care."

"Powers you can't have?" I squirmed.

"Darkness affords demons gifts of fire and of land. The eye color they manifest is silver when they're in demon form. But angels have gifts of the waters and air. Our skin hints of glowing gold," Kian clarified.

"Though there is one exception," Jacob interjected, clearing his throat.

"What is that?" I asked with a curious curve of my lips.

"Nathaniel possesses the powers of fire. We are not sure why, but it seems one angel and one demon each decade is born with the opposition's gifts."

"So Nathaniel is unique?" I pondered aloud.

"Yes, he is." Jacob agreed and took my hand. "We Angelfire are having a banquet in thirty minutes. Would you come join us and meet Lucianda?"

"I'd like that." I felt so welcomed by Jacob, not like I felt around Krysta. Jacob reminded me of Sammael in that they both had a calmness and loftiness — yet not conceited — quality about them, like two wise sages.

At the banquet, I sat next to Kian at a large dark-stained rectangular dining table. Kian and I backtracked through the room with the piano and entered the door in that room to get to the dining hall. I still had not gone through the mahogany door in the library.

Photos of the city decorated the stark gold walls of the dining room, and a variety of dishes were spread out over the lace tablecloth. Carrots with peas, lamb chops, mashed potatoes, cauliflower soup, cheesecake, Rib-eye, freshly baked rolls, spiced tuna fillets, and many other dishes I didn't have a chance to savor.

Nathaniel sat on the other side of me, while Krysta sat across from me. Jacob sat between Krysta and a woman whom I could only guess to be Lucianda. Sammael sat at the head of the table, while the other end of the table remained empty.

Sitting at the two end seats across from me and the two end seats aligned with me, were four Angelfire I'd never seen before and might not ever see again. They remained in their angel guise to keep me from knowing their human identity. Two had gold-blond hair and eyes, and two had blue-gold eyes and black hair. Beneath all the wings, glowing skin and bright pupils, I wouldn't have been able to make out much of their human identity.

The table quickly grew loud with various conversations about the city, about the state of angels, about Dameon and Azrael. I listened intently, but my most favorite conversation came much later after all the talks of politics and state.

"We must crush Dameon soon before he regains his strength," the gold-blond angel to my far left declared.

"And use Ali as bait? Risky," Krysta argued, and I began to like her more, "but doable." She made me hate her again.

"Well, Dameon is after Ali anyway. We might as well use this to our advantage." The blond-gold angel to my far right agreed. "What else can we do? The powers of darkness are strengthening. We have all felt the power rising. Either Dameon will lead us to Azrael or we destroy him. Either way, we weaken the Dark Angels."

"But we must be ever aware that we are risking the life of a human, an innocent life." Sammael interjected with a calm firmness. "We will not proceed without her consent."

All eyes turned to me. Sparkling gold, emerald, amethyst, and even Kian's hazel eyes, which took on a hint of amber. My lips quivered at the corners.

"I've talked about this with Kian. I'm game. It's the only way to end this, and I don't want to be looking over my shoulder the rest of my life...afraid, afraid Dameon is going to strangle me."

"Then, it is settled." Sammael turned left and then right, making sure to catch everyone's attention. "We will proceed with the plan."

"Once Dameon is out of the picture, the streets of New York will be much easier to protect." Lucianda spoke in a similar accent to Jacob's. Her raven black hair hung to her breasts and matched her eyes. Rose-red lips puckered when she spoke. A lace Victorian dress covered her feminine form. Sun kissed skin kept her from looking too vampish, and an arched nose reminded me of the French Aristocracy.

"Yes, my love. They will be." Jacob patted her hand on the table.

I was so excited to be sitting with another human, someone whose experiences must have something similar to my own. I sensed that Lucianda and I might even become good friends.

"So, how did the two of you meet?" I asked, naively pointing at Jacob and Lucianda.

Lucianda's usual esoteric expression broke into a smile as she entertained happy memories. "I was returning a few library books to the local library when a gang of thugs surrounded me on the sidewalk. As they pushed me into the alley, I began to panic. I was only twenty at the time."

Her skin did not look a day older than thirty now, Ali thought.

Lucianda shuddered, "The big one pushed me to the ground as he pulled my purse off of my shoulder. I sprained my ankle. When I tried to get up, the shorter one held me down and said something like, 'Let's have some fun with this one.' I nearly threw up then and there. My nerves felt fried."

Lucianda straightened a wrinkle in the tablecloth on her side of the table before continuing, "Then, when I'd almost given up, Jacob appeared out of nowhere and threw the large thug halfway down the alley. I'd never seen such strength before! A few of the gang tried to tackle Jacob, but he pushed them off and left them all scrambling to get away. He lifted me to my feet, and we dated awhile after that before I found out the truth about who he was."

"How did you react?" I played with my fork over my mashed potatoes, not really interested in eating anymore.

"I wasn't as surprised as you'd think. I took the whole thing pretty well. I don't know, it was like somehow I always knew who he was...I just didn't have the words for it before, you know?"

I wanted to say I knew exactly what she meant, but I honestly did not. I shook my head. "The whole angel-demon thing threw me for a loop...but then, maybe that was because my introduction to the world was through the demon Dameon trying to strangle me."

"And how do you feel now?" Lucianda asked, and I felt like I'd known her for much longer than the time it took to eat a mere dinner.

Gazing at Kian, I answered. "Good. Really good."
Lucianda

Later that evening, Lucianda invited me out on the town with her. All of the unknown angels disappeared after the banquet; Sammael had important matters to discuss with Krysta, Nathaniel, Jacob and Kian: private angel-engagements that I overheard briefly. Something about Dameon and Azrael. Sounded serious. We human girls got bored just sitting around the mansion.

I imagine Kian would have put up a fight about me going out that night, but while he busied himself with angel-demon conversations, I slipped away unnoticed with Lucianda. She had a way of making the adventure sound safe as long as I stayed with her.

"Ever been here?" Lucianda and I took a taxi downtown, into the inner city of Manhattan. I didn't usually go there unless Molly had an itch to scratch, but Lucianda loved it there. She insisted. Tall buildings offered plenty of reflective windows where I could make out my reflection. Billboards hung on side walls, up high on towers, and down low where taxis zoomed past.

Red and white striped canopies above the windows decorated a cute little shop on one corner while a window washer sat on a ladder cleaning the glass. A few bicyclists peddled past the shop as Lucianda signaled for the cab driver to pull over to the curb. "Here, here!" Her rather dull and tightened lips sprung like a loosened spring.

"Where are we?" I squeezed out of the back seat and circled in my step as I gazed skyward at all the neon lights and loud sounds.

"The bike shop. We are going to ride along the Riverside Trail."

I shrugged. I hadn't ridden a bicycle in some time and didn't know how comfortable I felt with one.

"Oh, come on. You can do it! Besides, I'm paying...so no qualms!" Lucianda hadn't struck me as the adventurous type sitting across from me so stoically and esoterically at the banquet, but I guess appearances are deceiving.

"I'm fine. Looking forward to it." Even Lucianda could see through my pasty smile. In truth, it actually seemed like one of the more fun things I'd seen. Heck, if I could go fist-to-fist with a demon, I could surely handle a bike ride.

Briskly walking into the shop, Lucianda opened the door and the bell rang, alerting the attendant. A short man in a Yankees cap came to the desk.

"What can I do for you two this evening?"

Lucianda spoke up for the both of us. "We'd like two bikes to take on the Riverside Trail."

"$25 bucks a bike per hour."

"Kinda steep; the trail will take at least two hours." Lucianda argued. "How about $15?"

"$20," the man said firmly.

"Okay, $40 bucks each, makes it $80. How about we do this for $75?"

"Alright." The owner grumbled as if we hadn't been the first hagglers he'd seen today.

Lucianda handed the man a hundred-dollar bill and, after the owner inspected the bill, he gave us two keys to unlock the bicycles.

"Come on." Lucianda waved at me as she stood over the two bikes. I had never been to this shop before, nor on the trail. I didn't particularly like trying new things; Molly usually dragged me along for all my adventures. But Lucianda seemed like a big sister, a sister I never had. She was thirteen years older, so I couldn't consider her a peer, but we shared something I didn't share with anyone else in the city. We shared an unbreakable bond of knowledge – knowledge of a supernatural world hidden in New York.

Balancing myself on the bike, memories of me learning to ride with my father came to mind. He had been the one who taught me to keep my weight even on both sides, to pedal fast to keep the balance good, to brace myself when I fell and to dust myself off and get back up. Funny how the know-how came right back to me when I started riding. I hadn't sat on a bicycle for years, but here I sat, pedaling behind Lucianda, heading toward the Riverside Trail, and I blended right in with the rest of the bicyclers.

Craning her neck back, Lucianda kept an eye on me. "So, how you doing there, Ali?"

"Good," I pedaled. So far, so good...and then I hit a pebble and the bike started wobbling. "I...think." Tightening my hands around the bar grip, I kept my feet on the pedals and tried to stay balanced. Swaying left and right, I squeezed my legs close to the bike spokes as the bicycle headed for the grass on the other side of the sidewalk. Kerplunk! I fell over with my hands bracing my fall. At least I could fall without hurting myself. Dad's lessons paid off after all.

"You alright?" Lucianda circled back around to meet me. Watching her parking her bike on the curb easily and slide off the seat like a professional, I felt a bit like a loser. I got my butt kicked three times by Dameon, and now I needed help after falling off my bicycle. Seriously?

With an outstretched hand, Lucianda helped me to my feet and I dusted my knees off before slipping back on the bike seat.

"You got it?"

"Yeah, yeah." I waved her away. "Go on, I'll catch up to you."

When we finally arrived at the Riverside Trail, the sights took my breath away. We rode past beautiful Hudson River views, riding along the water's edge, and saw a few waves rise above the bluff. We passed several majestic and historic monuments, along with a series of sycamore trees. Closing my eyes a few times, I just wanted to feel the chilly evening air against my skin, rushing through my hair.

I kept my eyes on Lucianda, who rode ahead of me. She didn't ride too fast, probably on my account. I appreciated her for that; like my mother she kept an eye on me, maybe because I fell earlier, or perhaps because she knew how fragile I was fighting against Dameon and his demon spawn.

But Lucianda also gave me space and never ventured too far from me. She looked like a meteor propelling over the Riverside Trail. Her focus was determined by some goal she had set, and she only ever looked back to check on me. She had found a state of mind I envied and could only hope to acquire sometime in the future. She didn't seem afraid, no trace of cowardice; she didn't seem timid, but a brute force. A soldier on a mission. At least that is how she seemed to me.

As the sun completely set behind the pink horizon line and the dark canopy of night secured evening, Lucianda picked up her pace. I guess she figured I'd had enough practice and could finally keep up with her.

Skidding around a bend, I stayed close enough to catch the scent of her flowery perfume. I never wore perfume myself, and when I smelled fragrances on others, the aroma always hit me hard. I knew this memory would stay with me long after the event ended, because of the distinct flavor of fragrance, and because I had ridden a bike for the first time since my father's death.

My foot almost slipped a couple of times, but I remembered what my Dad had said to me when he practiced with me. "Just imagine the bike is a horse. You have to caress the animal to keep him in your reigns." Daddy knew I loved horses and, though I never rode one myself, the notion that the bike could be something like the majestic animal gave me a stronger will to succeed in riding it and less fear about the whole thing.

When the ride ended, I felt we ended too soon. Two hours flew by, and Lucianda hustled to return the bikes before the next hour began. She didn't want to have to pay for a third, unused hour.

"How'd you like it?" She asked me while gripping my arm and guiding me onto the sidewalk.

"Loved it! One of the most gorgeous views in Manhattan!"

"Good, I'm glad. How about we walk a bit?"

"Sounds good."

Manhattan at night. Something I'd recommend to everyone. The moon hung like a blinking eye as the clouds draped the greying sky. Lucianda whipped around a corner with me still in her grip and we jumped into a costume shop.

"What's this?"

Laughing, Lucianda grabbed a wolf mask and placed the rubber over her face. "Try one. It's fun."

The more I got to know Lucianda the more she seemed the complete opposite of the woman at the banquet. She kept a game face for sure; a face that said stay away; no emotions here. But when I peeled away the layers on the surface, she reminded me a lot of Molly. An older and more equipped Molly, but someone similar nonetheless. A street smart-tough, kick ass-take care of herself and yet still fun kind of girl.

Taking the mask of James Cameron's Avatar off the shelf, I pulled the fabric over my face and made a spectacle of myself in front of the mirror. Dancing in front of the reflection, I felt like a kid again...or a fool. But I was having too much fun to care. Lucianda and I tried on one mask after another to scare ourselves or each other, just to switch into another mask minutes later. We kept on like this until the attendant showed us the exit.

Laughing at ourselves, I had almost forgotten I had been marked for death. Something about being with Lucianda felt a lot like being with Kian, like I didn't have to worry about anything. Walking up the alley to the sidewalk, I found an opportune time to ask Lucianda some question that had been nagging me.

I had that look.

"What?" Lucianda asked.

"I was just wondering" I hesitated, "why the other seat at the banquet was empty?"

"You mean the seat opposite Sammael, right?"

"Yeah."

"No one told you?"

"Nope."

"Because five years ago Sammael's wife was killed by Azrael."

"Oh God!"

"Our family got close to finding his location and Sammael's wife eventually did. But she didn't wait like Sammael had warned her. She figured it was now or never. She fought him and lost. The seat has been empty for five years."

Lucianda used the word 'family' like she belonged to this great angel clan even though she was human, and it made me think that maybe I would one day belong to this angel family too.

"I'm so sorry to hear about Sammael's wife."

"Sammael almost lost it when she died, but he is with us now. Heart, body and mind."

I didn't know what to say. I knew how devastating loss could be; I had lost my father at a young age. I knew words would never suffice. So I changed the subject.

"You and Jacob have known each other for awhile?"

"Ten years to be exact."

"You must have seen a lot."

"More than I care to admit."

We turned a corner and headed south into a crowded area before I asked, "How was Kian before...I mean before he met me?"

"Much the same, but maybe a bit more depressed or lost or something."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean he never felt like he belonged to our family, you know? I took a while to warm up at first, but I'm a human. He is angel, so one would think this Angelfire would come as second nature to him."

"But it didn't?"

"I guess he never felt like he had a place of his own in the family; like he always kept one eye on the clan and one eye on the outside world searching...for something."

"And he doesn't search anymore?"

Lucianda stopped in her tracks and acted as if she had never contemplated this before, my effect on Kian. "Actually, no he doesn't. He seems a lot more content now that you are with us."

I smiled unintentionally under the twinkling sky as we both turned back on course. We rounded the next corner and headed into a cafe for a bite to eat. I felt exhausted, and needed sustenance. After ordering two iced teas and a large pepperoni pizza, we sat in the center booth and ate.

Minutes after I shoved a slice of pizza into my drooling mouth, Lucianda caught wind of something. Her nostrils flared, and she pulled her black hair into a ponytail with a tie from her pocket. I searched her expression for some clue to explain the change in her mood. Rolling her shoulders and arching her back, she did not appear relaxed at all; if anything, she looked constipated. But I knew that wasn't it.

"What?" I whispered across the table. She watched a couple across the room in a corner booth, so I took a quick look. Only the eyes of the male could be seen, but even I noticed a hint of silver color beneath his lids. A demon? In a cafe? In human guise? Well Dameon took human form at my high school. I imagined demons must be everywhere, but I hadn't thought about it, really thought about it, until that moment.

Lucianda yanked me up when the couple left the café. We left our pizza and drinks to fend for themselves on the table. I was sure they'd be gone by the time whatever this was ended. Damn. I was really hungry.

As we followed the couple into the alley, the male suddenly jerked around with silver in his eyes and protruding claws on his fingers. The female took no time at all to mimic his movements and appearance. Both wore black leather pants and tight stretch tops. Jet-black hair matched Lucianda's. When their skin began to glow, this looked like it would become a full-fledged demon-on-human street fight...and I had no idea what to do next.
Street Fights

In an instant, Lucianda swung around, and her leg arched through the air, like a ninja from some distant Asian country we only see on television. Her heel pounded against the male's chest and knocked him back an inch before her hands moved like nunchucks, and her body spun around twice. Maybe she liked showing off? But I was glad she was on my side.

The female flung herself forward in a midair somersault, landing on top of Lucianda. When my friend's back hit the ground, I gasped. OMG! Flailing arms knocked into the demoness as fists smacked her across the head. In an instant, Lucianda had rolled over and pinned her opponent to the ground.

Hissing, her 'boo' lunged at Lucianda from behind. I couldn't just stand there and watch my friend — the only other friend in the world who knew what I knew — die! Grabbing a large rock that lay in the corner of the alley, I threw it like a baseball at the demon's head. Smack! Even I heard the thump.

Spinning on his heel, the demon growled, revealing his sharp teeth. For the first time, I could see something hideous, monstrous. In an instant, his human form morphed, and mist conformed to the shape of the Dark Angel. Black leathery wings spanned ten feet on either side of him, flapping. All I could hear was the flap-flap-flap of those gruesome wings.

Street lights provided his shadow which stretched many feet before him, and each step he took toward me made the alley feel like walls were caving in on top of me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Lucianda struggling with her assailant. The demoness threw a fist, and blood poured from Lucianda's angled nose. Both rolled over the street like they fought to win a wrestling match.

But I didn't have long to focus on Lucianda, because the demon approached me rapidly, and he looked pissed. Though he was not a vampire, his teeth reminded me of one, and his dead-black eyes appeared hollow to me, as if he had no heart beating within his thick chest. Cowering against the brick wall, I had no further to go. Nowhere to escape to. I had to fight or die.

Picking up another rock, I threw it hard against his pristine facial features. It scathed his cheek. Blood dripped off of his face and to the alley dirt. Hissing, he sounded more like a wild animal with rabies than an angel. Fangs protruded from his mouth as he drew closer and closer. The alley shrank as the demon became my world. Ragged black hair loosely hung over his eyes, blending with all his black attire. But unlike with Dameon, I wouldn't let this one beat me.

The monster flapped his wings as he hurled himself over me. Everything went dark as when the moon eclipses the sun. An unearthly darkness. Cold clawed at my skin as I crumbled to the ground with this canopy of blackness engulfing me. I felt his sharp nails scratch my back as drool dripped from his mouth onto my bare arms; I couldn't use my eyes to win this. I would have to hone in on sounds and smells and use my tactile sense.

Fishing around with my hands for any kind of weapon, I finally found a thick stick — or maybe it was a broken bat — and I gripped with all my strength. Without aiming, I swung several times and felt the force of the bat change as it must have hit the demon's head, chest, and shins. When I could finally see moonlight again, I knew the Dark Angel had released me.

The crescent moon reflected well enough for me to see the monster scurry to the other side of the alley, against the wall. He actually seemed wounded, and did I see fear in his expression? Did I actually make him afraid of me?

As I bit the inner corner of my mouth in question and concern, Lucianda stood face to face with her demon and threw a kick. Her foot rounded off the demoness' lower jaw; saliva flung out of the creature's mouth as her winged body fell backward onto the ground. In one motion, Lucianda dove on top of the demoness and punched her several times before pulling a silver blade from her back pocket.

One stab to the heart, and the demoness lay limp, her head to one side. The demon against the brick wall screamed as if in pain. The eerie, primal screech sounded like nails scraping on a chalk board. Perhaps his love just died? Perhaps he felt himself grow weaker from her death? But it sounded like a supernatural war cry.

As soon as the demon screamed, Lucianda lunged to her feet, knees slightly bent, hands in combat motion, and she held that silver blade still dripping of the demoness' blood. She marched up to the demon who now clawed the air to keep her away. As I watched her move against him, I saw for the first time the power we humans had. I had never seen a demon afraid before, especially not of a mere human.

But Lucianda changed that for me.

The demon clawed at Lucianda, but weakened from my blows, he did not have much vigor left. He ducked when Lucianda first attempted to stab him, and then my friend kicked him in the stomach.

"Argh!" he yelped, but his yelp became a screech of pain as Lucianda's knife stabbed his arm. Crimson blood dripped, and I saw how fragile demons could be, or at least this demon. Soon Lucianda's silver blade found his empty heart, and he fell to the ground, already growing pale. The dark wings from both demons crumpled to dust seconds later, and the once glowing skin looked more like a deathly blue-white. They could have been any human citizens of New York City; victims of a mugging. I was sure that was what I'd hear on the news.

Staring at the carnage, I couldn't take my eyes off the scene before me until Lucianda yanked my arm. "Come on! We have to get out of here before the cops get here!"

Cops? My mind swirled to my brother Samuel as I raced out of the alley with Lucianda. We backtracked the way we had come until we reached the bicycle shop. Somehow I felt safer there in familiar territory.

"What the hell just happened back there?" I breathed heavily, stopping in front of the bicycle shop door. Darkness hid the faces of most of the people on the sidewalk.

"What do you mean? You saw what happened!"

"No..." I shook my head. "What I mean is how the hell did we manage to kill two demons?" I waved my hands like a mad Italian. Lucianda gripped my shoulder and pulled me into the side street away from the stores.

"Watch what you say in public. People can hear you!"

"Sorry." I blushed red. Hot from the fight. Hot from embarrassment. "But you still haven't answered my question."

"Those were Fanged Demons."

"What does that mean?"

Lucianda stomped her foot in a huff as if this were common knowledge I should have known. "Didn't you read anything in the library?" I gave an exasperated expression before she spilled the rest. "Demons are fanged because they kill humans. They've lost their Gift Powers and because they've exposed themselves to so many humans and allowed some of the humans to escape, they've also weakened their Essence Power."

"So, they weren't as powerful as most demons?"

"There are many kinds of demons, Ali. Some are fanged demons. Some are pure Dark Angels. Some are Were Creatures."

"Were Creatures?"

"What did Kian tell you anyway? Apparently not enough!"

"He told me the rules."

"But he didn't explain them very well, I see." I didn't say anything. To me Kian was perfect. She shifted her weight and continued. "Were Creatures come out of Dark Angels who have been intimate with many humans. When the Dark Angel loses his wings, they're replaced with fur."

"So, when Angelfire is intimate or kills a human, they lose...but when a Dark Angel does the same thing they gain a power?" I fumed, and kicked the wall with my heel.

"Not exactly. See, Fanged Demons and Were Creatures are not as powerful as Angelfire or Dark Angels."

"Then what do they gain by breaking the rules?" Wrinkles marked my forehead as I pressed my back against the brick wall, trying to understand. A chilly breeze brushed past us.

"They don't necessarily gain anything. That is not what motivates them. The darkness is an immersing force, and once they become a part of it, it is almost impossible for them to be redeemed. The darkness sucks you in further and further. Many Dark Angels simply cannot help themselves; they have to break the rules. The penalty is that they lose power. They become a different animal, a weaker animal."

A light bulb went off in my head. "That is why I could hurt that demon in the alley?"

"Exactly. And that is why Dameon is a much stronger foe. He is pure Dark Angel, and..."

"And what?"

"And Sammael thinks he has figured out why Dameon is stronger than any other Dark Angel, why Azrael wanted to take him in particular from the orphanage."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure if I'm supposed to tell you...if Kian wanted to keep it a secret."

"Come on Lucianda." I nudged her in the shoulder with my forefinger. "I would tell you." I felt a kinship with Lucianda that I didn't have with my other girlfriends. Not that the friendship I had with Molly or Jennifer could be measured against Lucianda; our relationship was simply different, on a different level because of what we had been through together and the knowledge of this angel-world that we shared.

The pleading in my eyes finally convinced her, and Lucianda drew closer to me and spoke almost in a whisper. "Sammael believes that Dameon is Azrael's son."

"His son?"

"Shh!" Lucianda clasped her hand over my mouth. "Sammael believes that some time ago, Azrael picked a human to mate with, and she gave birth to Dameon."

"Wouldn't that make him..."

"Half-blooded, king-demon? Yep. See, most demons are born out of the rebellion of becoming Angelfire, following Earthly temptations. Sammael actually worried about Kian for a bit. Afraid Kian might turn."

"OMG!"

"But Kian didn't. His feelings of not belonging simply led him to you...not to Azrael."

I sighed and felt a weight of both honor and responsibility. What if I ever left Kian? Would that break him? I couldn't even fathom ever leaving Kian. Heck, he'd better not ever leave me! But the thought nagged the corners of my mind.

"But Dameon?"

"Dameon was born directly from a demon. That ensured his demonship. Since his father is the king of the demons, he is essentially the prince, or king-to-be."

"And Azrael? Does he still have wings? I mean since he mated with a human and all?"

"We don't know for sure. No one has seen him in seventeen years, not since he took Dameon captive. But we suspect he has a partial wing and a body partially covered with fur. He has only mated with one human as far as we know. That would not completely take away his wings, but he would be deplumed to some degree."

"Wow! This world gets more complicated the more I learn."

"I'm actually surprised by how little you do know. I thought Kian shared more with you."

"I think Kian wants to protect me, and that means sometimes keeping me in the dark. I mean...the demon that wants to kill me is not only a Dark Angel, but the king-demon's son! A powerful demon! A demon who will be king!" Saying the words aloud made them echo in my head and made me feel dizzy for a moment. I grabbed the wall and closed my eyes.

"You alright?" Lucianda offered strength by putting her hand on my shoulder.

"I think I just felt the weight of the world I now live in."

"We'd better get home. I don't want to worry Jacob or Kian."

"And where are they, anyway? We almost get our asses kicked, and they are congregating in the mansion somewhere? What if Dameon had attacked?" I felt my face get hot red.

"I'm sure one or both of them are up in the skies watching out for us." Lucianda looked skyward, and I saw a twinkle of a white wing before it disappeared behind a cloud. "They don't come down unless absolutely necessary. And since you are with me, well, I've got things handled."

We strolled down the sidewalk. "You've been doing this a long time?"

"Yes."

"So, you could show me a few tricks?"

"Sure. Why not? You're going to have to learn to fight better if you're going to stay alive." Lucianda flung her pony tailed hair as she fast-walked. I had to struggle to keep up with her long legs.

"How about here? On the streets?" Pointing to the next alley, I waited for Lucianda, and then she nodded.

When we went around the corner, I rushed down the street, but Lucianda stood at the entryway. "Why don't we pretend I am a demon, and I have you trapped. You need to get out of the alley alive. You have to get past me and onto the main road."

"Alright," I agreed hesitantly.

A sliver of moonlight provided the only light on the street. The two lampposts appeared broken. The air grew colder and quieter.

Glaring at Lucianda, I found it hard to look at her as an enemy. So far she had shared secrets with me, helped me ride a bike, kept me company, almost split a pizza with me, and saved my butt in a demon fight. She had quickly become a best friend. But when I noticed the change in her demeanor from the playful girl I knew on the streets back to the stoic woman who sat across from me at the mansion banquet, I sensed this fight would be for real.

I had to give my all or lose.

Taking a deep breath, I surveyed the alleyway for the boundary walls, windows, loose objects on the street, and the distance from where I stood to the exit. I listened to every movement Lucianda made. Her combat-booted foot took a step forward. A puff of wind blew her hair back. Even her flowery perfume seemed heightened by my sense of smell.

But this is what I wanted, what I asked for.

Stealthily, I tiptoed forward, hoping she didn't see or hear me. I barely saw her. I kept near the edge of the wall, because I knew that the wall would guide me out of this dark alley. When I thought I had crawled close enough to pounce on her, she jumped on top of me.

I stumbled as we rolled down the street in some kind of mock cat fight. Tossing and turning, Lucianda didn't give an inch. When she agreed to this fight, she meant it. I guess she had to; after all, demons didn't show mercy, either.

Slapping my cheek, she woke me up to the reality I had agreed to. "Damn, Lucianda!" But she kept quiet and held my arms tightly with her strong hands. For a woman who appeared elegant, French, and soft like velvet, she sure could throw a punch and hold her own. Her ninja-like persona emerged, and she went into full combat mode.

Keeping my hands close to my chest, I protected myself as I waited for my opportunity to hit her. Then came my chance. A space broke between us momentarily, and I swung hard. My fist hit her shoulder and pushed her back an inch. With that gap, I kicked my legs and knocked her back, freeing myself. Flinging myself upward, I stood a bit wobbly, but balanced myself quickly.

I felt the air rush around me as Lucianda swung past me.

Gripping her passing arm, I swung her around and slung her to the ground. Lunging on top of her, or what I thought to be her, I landed on a lumpy box. The crunch of the cardboard let me know I had missed, and Lucianda instantly landed on my back. She had me pinned face down this time. I had grown to know this position well. Dameon had had me in this posture more than once.

Ugh! I sighed. Then out of nowhere, two lights beamed, descending from the sky. The lights came into focus as they landed beside Lucianda and me. Kian and Jacob. Of course Jacob couldn't fly with shredded wings and so Kian held him up as he had once with me until they landed. They both glowed of bronze angel skin. Kian's amber eyes settled angrily on Lucianda.

"What the heck are you doing to Ali?" He sounded on the offense; if she didn't have a good explanation he might have taken her down then and there.

Jacob slid in behind Lucianda as a protective boyfriend would, pulling her off me and keeping his hands on her shoulders as his aqua-green pupils narrowed on Kian. "Don't even try it."

Shaking my head, I almost laughed, but only mustered a half-smile. "No, no, no! Lucianda and I were play-fighting. I asked her to help me become a better fighter."

"You what? No, no, Ali! You are not fighting anyone. That's what I am for." Kian entwined his fingers in mine.

"You mean that is what you were for when Dameon attacked me at The Edge Dance Club? You mean that is what you were for tonight when two demons attacked us in the alley?" I pushed him back.

"Jacob watched you at The Edge, and you snuck off tonight without me....and still I watched you all night! Did you really think you could wander away without me knowing." He asked without really wanting me to answer. More rhetorical. "If Lucianda hadn't had it all under control, I would have stepped in."

"And what if one day you can't? I want to know how to fight for myself. Need to know how!"

"She's right, man." Jacob agreed as he brushed some dirt off Lucianda's clothing. She had managed to dirty herself in all the brawls tonight.

Kian stood still and quiet; he looked as if he were twisted in agony. After pondering the three intense stares on him, he finally agreed hesitantly. "Fine, but I will train her."
Consequences

Kian dropped me off at my front door with a kiss on the cheek. A single feather fell from his full plume. Mom waited for me in her rocking chair in the living room as I snuck inside late. Glancing at the clock I saw the little hand at eleven.

"I thought I told you ten o'clock. Was I not clear enough, Ali?" Mom stood and scurried over to me as if I might vanish at any moment. "I don't like having to worry about you, and you didn't even call to let me know you'd be late."

"I'm sorry." I said slowly, as if the words would somehow mean more. I really felt bad, but what could I have done?

"You're sorry? Where were you? Why didn't you call?"

Samuel turned on the light in the kitchen, and his glare swept over my scraped body.

"And what is this!" Mom gently placed her forefinger over the rip in my shirt and pointed to my scraped cheek and scratched hand. "What happened?"

Samuel raced into the room like a good cop. He'd already changed and wore his pajamas. He didn't look nearly as intimidating.

"What's going on?" Samuel inquired as the cell phone on his pajama belt buzzed.

"That is what I'm trying to figure out," Mom added.

"It's nothing." I cradled myself with crossed arms. "Lucianda and I went bike riding at the Riverside Trail. I fell a couple times. That's all!" I said defensively as I marched toward the stairs.

"Lucianda? Who is Lucianda? I thought you were going out with Kian?"

Samuel answered his cell in the background as I answered Mom harshly. "Lucianda is Kian's friend. I met her today. What's the big deal?" My foot hit the first stair.

"What is the big deal!? You are covered with bruises and scrapes and are an hour late with no phone call!" Mom put the guilt on heavily. "I've been worried sick."

Samuel looked me up and down, and his quizzical expression told me he'd have questions for me later, but for now I had been saved by the buzzer. "I'm sorry, but I have to get going. There was a double murder in Manhattan that I have to investigate."

"A double murder in Manhattan? Isn't that where the Riverside Trail is located!?" Mom panicked.

"I guess so." I shrugged. "I'm sure we weren't anywhere near it." I put my foot on the second stair step as Samuel ran past me upstairs to his room to change back into his uniform. "So, why didn't you call me?"

"I just lost track of time, Mom. I'm really, really sorry. How many times do I have to say it? It happens."

"Not to you. You've never missed a call if you were going to be late."

She was right. I couldn't argue with her anymore. I needed my space. I was growing up, becoming a part of a world she didn't understand. But I couldn't just treat her like some stranger, either.

"I promise to call you next time I know I'll be late. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Mom took a deep breath and sighed. "Alright, munchkin, get to bed. See you in the morning."

***

Sunday morning I knew I would spend with Kian. He had promised to train me to fight. At breakfast, I explained my position to Mom.

"So, Kian and I kinda have plans today."

"I don't think so, Ali. I hardly know Kian. And I've never met Lucianda. Yesterday you came home late and all bruised up. I'm sorry, but I prefer you to stay home today."

"But..."

"No buts. I mean it."

"Fine." I pouted, puffing out my bottom lip. It was partly puffed from the brawl with the fanged demons last night and partly from disappointment.

I only saw Samuel briefly as he raced out the front door in uniform with toast in one hand and a file in the other. "See ya," I called to him, but he barely heard me. I wondered how long it would take him to put all the pieces together. Tommy Bachelor-Dameon-Alley Murders-Kian-Me.

"So what are you going to do today instead?" Mom asked, as if anything could be a consolation prize to going out with Kian.

"Stay in my room and read. I have homework to catch up on anyway." I really didn't have that much homework. Since I quit school, Mom had arranged for all my assignments to come to the house directly, but since the bomb, no teachers had assigned anything. I imagined Monday would be different, and I might actually have to stay home and do some classwork. But today, I just wanted Mom to think I'd be too busy in my room to socialize much. I had other plans.

"Alright, munchkin." Mom kissed my forehead and walked to the porch. She had decorative pots on the floor. Bags of soil stood next to them. She would be repotting flowers.

In my room, I waited for Kian to appear. I had sensed him with me as I slept, but many mornings I missed him. He had a busy life. Demons to kill. Citizens to save. And eyes to keep on Dameon.

As I sat on my bed listening to Lady Gaga, Kian seeped underneath my window pane as the grey mist I had grown to know well lingered a few minutes on my skin in that coveted time we longed to spend together, before he morphed to angel in front of me. White majestic wings fluttered up and down before stilling beside him, and his amber eyes stared deep into mine.

"Are we going to do this?"

"Yes, but one moment." I hesitated before stuffing two pillows under my sheets and fluffing them in such a way that Mom might think I slept soundly there.

"What are you doing?"

"I just want to make sure my bed is made well." I didn't want to go into the details. Kian had already been against this whole teaching me to fight thing, and I didn't want him knowing Mom was against me leaving today, too. I could see him refusing to take me today, and I just had to learn.

Kian looked confused. Even he knew that pillows under the sheet meant I was concealing something, but he didn't ask. "Hop into my arms." He stretched out his muscular arms; his chest was a warm haven. Snuggling there, I let Kian unlatch my window and fly out into the sky with me.

For the first few minutes I kept my eyes closed. I hated heights, and getting used to this movement in the sky took time. Eventually, I peeked and remembered what I saw when he first flew with me in his arms. It was a lot like being in a plane, but nicer because of the engulfing warmth. I saw the town growing smaller below us.

At the mansion, we passed through the piano room and through the crimson room with the library and headed to the mystery door which I had my eye on since I had first been there. Pushing the heavy mahogany door open, Kian held the door ajar with his foot.

"So, I finally get to see what's in here!"

"Well, some of what is behind the door. Not everything. There are many private quarters at the mansion you will never see, but this first room is for training, and since you are convinced this is what you want...well, I will coach you here."

The room was very large. The walls were white, and the style simple. It was a square gym with a trampoline, swinging bars, climbing rope, boxing ring, and even a gymnast's mat. On the walls hung a few training machines I had never even seen, machines with metal bars hanging both horizontally and vertically. The mats and machines appeared worn, as if Kian and the others had used this room often.

Kian grabbed me from behind, his hands over my shoulders, as he spun me around to face him. His eyes had never held such a mixture of romance and intensity. "Are you ready?"

"Yes!" I said excitedly, not realizing yet what I had gotten myself into. Buckling my knees with a kick of his leg from behind, Kian knocked me to the ground, and I braced my fall with open hands. Damn, wasn't ready for that!

"You sure?"

"I can do this!" I exploded with adamant fervor. I had to do this, or always rely on someone else to save my ass. Not that I minded Kian being there for me, or even the other angels. Their presence made me feel closer to heaven somehow. But there could be a day when no angel would be there to rescue me. I had to know how to fend for myself.

Kian lunged on top of me; I felt the weight of his muscular arms over the back of my forearms. One hard knee pressed against my lower back. How would I escape? This question became paramount, because demons used this maneuver all the time; Dameon had even used it on me. I felt the air from my lungs slowly seep out of me; I could suffocate.

Then Dameon's dark shadow appeared below me, around me. I remembered the brawl we had in the bathroom, and the one in my bedroom. I relived the whole experience again. Except this time, I would defeat him. My nails clawed the wood floor below me as I pondered what to do next. Bending my legs, I kicked like a baby trying to crawl for the first time. But I couldn't free myself.

As Kian held me down, I could only think of Dameon and how he sucked the power out of me and how I would never let that happen again. I kicked and kicked, the memory of the sound of my toes against the dirt of the alley only reminding me how futile my attempts were at this. My nails curled over as I raised my hands, fighting for my freedom. Scratching Kian's arms on both sides, I felt a drop of his blood run over my fingers. I had dug too deeply, but the pain made him flinch, and an inch of arm came off of mine, giving me the leeway I needed to finally escape.

With my elbow free, I poked him in the ribs, and Kian tipped a bit to the right much like a rowboat on rushing waters. With my face to the ground, I imagined Dameon's smug expression hovering over me; I could hear his scratchy, sinister growl-hiss.

Screaming, I finally felt a surge of strength I never knew I had.

I pushed myself off the floor with all the energy inside of me, as if all the residual anger I had against Dameon finally made its way out of my rumbling core and into my fragile arms. With the thrust of my push, I flung Kian off me, and he fell backward onto his back with a surprised smirk crossing his face. I rolled over and jumped to my feet. Towering over Kian I felt powerful, like I had all the control for the first time ever.

Diving on top of him, I dug my nails into his arms before my legs pinned his torso. I held him there like a sex-fiend awaiting her next fix, and in that instant I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anyone. Our eyes locked and he whispered, "You've finally found your strength."

Feeling the brush of his breath over my chin and cheeks, I lowered my body closer to him. "My strength?"

"You can never win without it."

"So, I'm winning then?" I teased, licking my lips.

"Not just yet. You're going to have to fight for it." Kian winked and bumped his legs, knocking me into the air like a girl on a bull-ride. When I landed on my feet again, Kian had disappeared to the other side of the room, behind the trampoline. But at least I had balance; at least I hadn't fallen on my ass. I was getting good at this. Maybe Lucianda wouldn't be the lone human demon-hunter out there after all. I sensed she felt a bit alone in that role, but at least she had Jacob to keep her warm at night.

"Focus, Ali!" Kian's words turned my attention away from Lucianda and returned it to what we were doing. I couldn't help but notice how hot he looked there against the wall. Ripped jeans, a white button-up shirt and disheveled hair. I wanted to lunge on top of him and eat him up...but I had to fight him. I had to remember this meant life or death. I had to see Dameon again, not the man I...loved.

In that moment I realized I had fallen in love with Kian. My heart beat faster. Nothing else seemed to matter. The room grew smaller somehow, and then tunnel vision led my cautious eyes over his body. I could only see him. Flashes of memories flooded my mind. The day we first met in the cafe. The roof top of the school. And now, him near my bed while I slept. Holding me while he flew the skies. Fighting demons to keep me alive. Hunting Dameon.

"What?" Kian lost his aggression and shivered as he examined my expression. Strutting over to where I stood alone, he pulled me into his muscular chest. He read me like a book. It took him a second, but then he knew. My eyes always gave me away no matter how much I tried to hide. I shivered in his arms as we delighted in each other's presence, a presence that must always remain distant.

I licked his neck until my tongue made its way to his plump, shivering lips. This big, strong angel-man was shivering. The thought made me shiver more, because I understood exactly why. Everything inside him, everything inside me pushed us together, to share our flesh, to be one.

Soft stubble from his chin skimmed my forehead, and I let my head rest under his chin as my arms caressed his sides. As he stood there like a defrosting icicle, I pushed my hand over his groin and he groaned just before he pushed me away from him.

"We can't. I have to keep a clear head."

We could never be, or else he could lose his angel wings and become like Jacob. How could he defend me well enough against Dameon then?

"I know." I lowered my head ashamed. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I..."

"You don't have to apologize." He pulled me into his chest again. So warm! "You don't ever have to apologize for how you feel. I just have to make sure I get to Dameon before he gets to you, and I can't do that with my wing feathers falling out."

My mouth opened, wanting to say I was sorry again, wanting to bite his lips and pull him to me. Conflicting emotions churned deep inside me, and I was not sure what feeling dominated more. I felt more animalistic than human around him. But at least now I knew how I really felt about him; at least he finally knew too, but I had to say it, hear my words aloud as I watched him.

"I love you." The words lingered between us and his amber eyes rested on me, glowing like fire.

"I love you, too."

Nothing felt surer and more natural than those words that day. It was a day I would always remember.
Exposure

The next day I awoke to find the silhouette of a man standing over my bed, hovering. "Kian?" I rustled against my sheets as I sat up rubbing my eyes. The figure stood silent. "Kian?"

Slipping my leg over the edge of the bed, I yawned, and the figure took a step forward. "No, Shrimp, it's your brother Samuel. What would Kian be doing in your room in the morning anyhow?" He looked peeved.

My brain awoke immediately with a jolt of urgency. "I...I don't know. I was dreaming, I guess." I jumped out of bed and rushed to my closet. "What are you doing in my room, anyway?" I squinted my eyes and jerked my head in his direction as I gave him a disagreeable, you're-way-over-the-boundary-line expression.

"I have to talk to you, and I don't want Mom hearing this."

"So important you have to barge into my room in the wee hours of morning?" I glanced over to the window where the first morning yellow-light was still trickling in, making designs on my floor. "And scare me to death!"

"Hardly." Samuel rolled his eyes at my exaggeration.

I threw my robe on over my cotton striped PJs and shut my closet with a loud thud. "Then what?"

"I found Tommy's iPhone, Shrimp." I stood frozen until he patted the bed. "Come and sit; we have to talk." He emphasized "have to" as if I had no other choice, but choices circled my mind: running out of the room and never returning, calling to Kian to fly me away, sealing my mouth shut.

Samuel patted the bed a second time, and I felt like I was ten years old again when I got caught stealing the pink lipstick from the make-up counter. He had given me a lecture then, and I felt like he'd give me one again. Same tone, same hard facial expression. But this time, I had seven more years of experience on me.

Plopping down next to him, I kept my gaze on the floor a moment before meeting his gaze. I would not let him break me. "So what?" I shrugged.

"So it had your fingerprints all over it. In fact your fingerprints were found all over Tommy's school locker too. Is there something you and Molly were looking for?"

"My fingerprints?" I gasped wondering why they were on file at the police station at all.

"Yeah Shrimp, remember the time you and Molly got caught shoplifting in middle school. I fingerprinted you then."

I lowered my head. "I remember." Not my finest hour.

My brother continued more sternly, "...and I saw the angel, that flying creature, or whatever on the recorder."

I contemplated lying, appearing dumbfounded. Maybe I didn't see it? But then I saw Samuel's piercing, inquisitive eyes. He knew more then he let on, and he knew I knew something.

"I...I don't know what to say."

"Tell the truth. How did you get it? Why?" He sounded different. Not like a cop, but like a concerned brother.

"I..." I stumbled over my words. I couldn't tell him the truth, but how much did he know?

"I also found your fingerprints by the two murdered bodies we found at the Riverside Trail. I know Tommy Bachelor was murdered. I know you took Tommy's iPhone from the waitress at the cafe. I've been investigating strange phenomena in the area for years. Until now, I never had the evidence I needed to go public. These murders are related, aren't they, Ali? And what I saw on the iPhone is somehow involved. You are somehow involved."

"No, no!" Public? I shook my head vehemently. Samuel was coming too dangerously close to the truth, and that would be bad, really bad. The angels and demons would surely feel a power shift in the balance because of how much Samuel knew. It would only take so long for Dameon to come after him, too.

"It's Kian, isn't it? He got you into the middle of all of this."

"No, no." I shivered.

"Or that other guy you kicked out of the house...that, that Dameon." He fought to remember his name.

My face concealed nothing. Worry and fear consumed me.

"What is it, Ali?" Samuel shook me gently with his hands on my shoulders. Tears fell from my eyes and I shivered again. I felt like Kian was drifting further and further away from me, yet I needed him here. I didn't know what to say, what to do. "What is the truth?" Samuel shook me again, and I saw in my mirror the reflection of a pair of white wings flutter behind the bed by the window. Calmness washed over me as I closed my eyes. Kian's presence surged through my bones, and then I heard his voice.

"She has nothing to do with this." Kian's amber eyes glowed like the sun as he spoke to Samuel. My brother jolted back, his hands shuffling over the sheets, as he watched this angelic creature speak.

Samuel's mouth fell open.

"Ali simply fell for the wrong guy."

"Dameon?" Samuel put the pieces together quickly, faster than I had.

"Yes. But I'm here to protect her."

"So angels are murdering citizens of New York?" Samuel said proudly, like he had known it all along, something no one else would have believed.

"Angels, no," Kian clarified. "Demons."

"Demons?" Samuel's lashes fluttered. I'd never seen him flush before that morning, as if he didn't know what to do with the grave information.

"And the two you found at the Riverside Trail were not humans. They were rogue demons killed before they murdered more humans."

"And Tommy Bachelor?"

"A tragedy of what happens when humans get too close to the truth."

Samuel's glare turned from Kian to me. "And Ali? Is the same going to happen to her?" He sounded outraged at Kian, as if anything that might happen to me would be all his fault.

"Not if I can help it. But Dameon is a clever and strong demon, stronger than all the others. We will have to work together to get rid of him, and I have a plan."

"A plan?" Samuel sounded doubtful.

"Well, really a plan devised by Sammael, but a plan nonetheless."

"Sammael?" My brother had an insatiable curiosity.

"Our Angelfire leader of Manhattan."

"Wow! This is all real, isn't it?" Samuel's face paled as the truth of everything rushed through him and he stood up. After a minute, he sat back down, and his color retuned.

"Yes, very real, Samuel." I turned to him, letting my concern show on my face. "And Dameon is going to feel this power shift and come after you now, too!" I didn't want to add pressure, but he had to know his life could be in danger.

"I can take care of myself, Shrimp. I can protect you." My brother tried to show a brave face, but I could see the fear hidden in his eyes. Demons in New York? And now, not only after me, but after him as well.

"Not alone, you can't." Kian interrupted. His crisp white wings only reminded me and Samuel how surreal this moment was. There would be no turning back now. Samuel was just as much a part of this as I was, and it would never end until we ended Dameon.

"So what's the plan?" Samuel inched closer to Kian, as if it would somehow bring him the clues, the answers he sought.

"We lure Dameon out of hiding and hope he leads us to his leader, Azrael." Kian sounded sure of himself, as if this plan he had devised with Sammael had real chance.

"Leader? You mean the demons have a leader, too?" my brother barked.

Kian laid the information on thick. I guess he figured Samuel could take it, being a cop and all. After all, my brother had claimed to be suspicious of paranormal activity for over a year now.

"Yes, Azrael has a large demon flock, but Sammael has an even larger Angelfire flock. If we can locate Azrael and destroy him, the demons under him will lose their power, and the city will be safe from them."

"So, those rogue demons," Samuel interrupted, on his own train of thought, "are there many like them?"

Kian answered with a flutter of his wings. "Not as many as there are demon followers. See, we paranormal beings have rules to obey, and when we break those rules, we lose gifts or powers. One of those rules is that angels and demons cannot harm a human directly."

"Then how did..."

"Demons typically push fear into the minds of humans to motivate them to hurt each other. This way, they've found a loophole in the 'directly' rule. But some demons choose to go rogue and leave the fold. They abandon the rule altogether."

Samuel's face squished up at this point like he did when he was trying to digest huge amounts of information, and then a quizzical expression crossed his eyes until Kian answered his silent question.

"How do those demons keep their powers? They don't. They exchange a stronger form of a gift for another weaker one. Why? Because they feed on the hunger of killing. They are like an infant demon with no control."

"What forms of gifts are we talking about here?" Samuel wanted specifics. His mind worked in the details, not in vague descriptions. He needed to know what he would be fighting against.

"Normally, a demon, like an angel, has a special gift. Dameon's gift is throwing fire from his hands. Mine is throwing ice. Krysta can access the lightning in the sky. The two rogue demons found dead near Riverside Trail would have given up something like that in exchange for killing humans. In absence of the gift, fangs developed."

Samuel's forehead wrinkled and his lips curled back like an angry Rottweiler. "You mean like vampires?"

"Not quite. They don't drink blood, are not afraid of the sun. But they do bite and bite hard! They can still use their wings, and they still possess a lot of strength, because they typically kill any human who knows of their existence, regaining their lost power."

"You mean once a human discovers the existence of the paranormal, the demons lose some kind of energy?" Samuel needed clarification.

"Yes, but the same goes for angels." Kian rubbed his forehead.

"So, because I've seen you, you now have lost power?" Samuel felt bad, and I could see his regret all over his face.

"Yes, but don't worry. There are many of us and few of them." Kian liked to stay positive, even if he didn't believe it, one of his characteristics I noticed and had fallen in love with.

"So, rogue demons are still dangerous?" Samuel continued.

"Extremely, to humans at least. Against angels, they are weaker than they would have been if they had never killed."

"Is that all I need to know?" Samuel retreated from Kian as if he were satisfied.

"For now." Kian gazed around the room, at me and then at Samuel. "Well..."

"What?"

"Rogue demons come in two types: Fanged and Were." Kian added with careful calculation.

"Were?"

"If a demon is intimate with a human, the demon will lose its wings and grow fur."

"Like a Werewolf?" My brother almost gasped.

"Again, not exactly. They don't grow fur under the full moon, and they don't bite humans and make them Were. They simply appear like very large man-wolves. They are still very strong, as all demons and angels are, and they still possess their gift...whatever that might be, but they no longer have wings to fly."

"So, basically, demons come in various forms, and I should keep my eyes wide open," Samuel concluded with a half-smile, trying to ease the tension in his back.

"I just want you to be fully aware of all the types of demons you will encounter. Dark Angel Demons, Fanged Demons, and Were Demons. You might not come across any of them anytime soon, but you should know they are here in the city."

"And the Fanged creatures are even worse in a way than the Dark Angles and Were, because they are rogue, because they are driven to kill humans."

"Yes, in a way you are right. But don't think for a minute you are safer with a Dark Angel or a Were. They will just as quickly try to kill you in indirect ways, pushing fear into your mind. And if Dameon finds you, he will kill you. He would rather gain his Essence Power than keep his gift of fire. Especially since he has already lost some of his Gift Power after killing Tommy Bachelor."

"Essence Power?" Samuel found a question for almost every one of Kian's statements. "And how come Dameon hasn't become Fanged if he killed?"

Taking a paper and pen from my desk, Kian jotted down the rules in black and white for my bother to see. Sometimes seeing helped.

Rule 1) If an angel or demon physically harms a human, he loses 'Gift Power'.

Rule 2) If an angel or demon is intimate with a human, he loses 'Wing Power'.

Rule 3) If an angel or demon is discovered by a human, he loses 'Essence Power'.

Rule 4) If an angel leader or demon leader is discovered by a human, the entire flock loses Essence.

Rule 5) If an angel leader or demon leader is killed, the entire flock under him will lose all powers.

Rule 6) If an angel is dying, he may transpose his wings to a human, giving his Essence and Gifts.

Rule 7) If a demon kills humans, forfeiting his Gifts, he will develop fangs.

Rule 8) If a demon is intimate with humans, forfeiting his Wings, he will develop fur.

"These are the eight paranormal rules which all paranormals have to live by, to address your first question. Your second question is a good one, too. Demons have to kill more than once to eliminate their Gift Power completely and to replace the gift with fangs."

"So, if I'm like his second, or Ali his third...he will finally fang?" Samuel said with sarcastic jest.

"Something like that, though losing his gift completely might be worth it to Dameon, just to get even with us. We've gotten under his skin for sure."

"So, that's everything then, or at least everything I need to know to help with this?" Samuel wanted to be thorough; who knew when he'd speak to a real live angel again.

"One last thing."

My eyes darted to Kian. What else could there be?

"Dameon is Azrael's son. This is the reason he is so powerful, and Azrael will do everything he can to protect his full-blooded heir."

"How'd that happen?" Samuel's brows rose in curiosity.

"Azrael took a human mate. He lost most of his wings and grew fur, we presume. But we don't know for sure since none of us have actually seen him in some time."

"You mean the king of the demons of Manhattan is a Were demon?"

"Something like that." Kian answered.

"Great! Just what I need." Samuel tightened the belt on his pants and, in my mind, he be-came a cop again in that instant.
The Lure

Samuel was cool with everything until Kian told him what we would use to lure Dameon out and expose Azrael's lair. Me. Samuel went ballistic. In a few seconds flat, Samuel had a grip around my wrist as he pulled me away from Kian.

"This isn't your decision, Samuel. I want to help Kian. I have to do this!" I pleaded futilely with my big brother.

"Over my dead body!" Samuel professed in heated words, and I wondered if Mom heard him.

Kian became the middle voice, the celestial peacemaker. "No one is dying here. Not you and not Ali. The angels will have her completely protected. She will be at no risk. If anything goes wrong, one of us will fly her out of there in an instant."

"Something always goes wrong. I've seen enough action to know and things never go as planned. I'm not letting you risk my baby sister's life to get back at some old nemesis." Samuel could be persuasive, but I knew Kian better than he did.

"Sam, stop it! This isn't your decision. I'm a big girl now, and I can make my own decisions. Kian has my best interest at heart. He has kept me safe from Dameon all this time, all this time without you. We don't need you to protect me; I don't need you to protect me! I have Kian." I didn't realize how harsh my words sounded until Samuel's face dropped. I'd never rejected him before, and he had never looked more hurt.

I placed my hand on his shoulder. "I mean, I know you have always been there for me, and I would not be where I am without you, but Kian knows what he is doing. He has dealt with demons before, and I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt."

Samuel's face glowed red with disagreement, but he nodded. "I'm not taking my eyes off you."

"I would expect no less." I grinned, and Samuel pulled me into his broad chest for a big-brother bear hug.

"So, when are we doing this?" Samuel pressed Kian for information as he fluttered toward my window.

"Tonight." Kian answered, and my eyes widened.

"Tonight? What do I need to do?" I fidgeted with my robe and slippers. "Am I even ready?" As I worried, Samuel's expression twisted.

"Don't worry about it, Ali. All you need to do is walk the alley near the Riverside aTrail lone. Except you won't be alone. Nathaniel, Krysta, Jacob and I will all be there in the skies looking out for you."

"Will it lure Dameon out? Will it work?" I felt flustered.

"I'm certain Dameon will show up. Krysta will track him and try to figure out where he comes from so that we can backtrack to Azrael's lair." Kian threw a leg over the window pane.

"I'll see you later?" My voice cracked.

"Tonight." Kian had a glint in his eye when he looked at me, a glint any good cop would have noticed.

When Kian vanished out the window, the door to my room swung open. "What are you two discussing in here? I've been calling you for breakfast for the last five minutes," Mom said. She sounded upset.

"Sorry, Mom." I trotted over to her, tightening my robe belt. "I'll be right down to eat."

"What are we having?" Samuel cleverly changed the subject.

"Sausage and eggs and pancakes." Mom smiled as if food could fix every problem.

"Sounds delicious. I'll be there in a sec." Samuel followed behind me after making a quick stop to his room.

At the dining table, Samuel piled on the pancakes while I made a small circle of eggs on my plate. With a glare, Samuel pushed some of his pancakes onto my dish.

"You should eat up, Shrimp; never know when you are going to need your strength."

"Right." I said under my breath in an afterthought while shoveling the eggs into my mouth. I almost could not believe Samuel knew everything I knew, that he had been figuring things out for the past year, that he now would be taking part in this plan to rid Manhattan of the demons.

But then, what were big brothers for?

After breakfast I marched up the stairs to my room and quickly took my shower before dressing in a faded pair of jeans, t-shirt and red cardigan. There was a knock at the door. At my invitation, my big brother walked into my room. He looked me over once before rustling through my closet.

"What are you doing?" I asked with a shrug.

"You are not wearing that. You'll be a sitting duck. Red! What are you thinking?" Samuel pulled a black jacket off the hanger and tossed the garment to me. "You have to blend in, Ali, not be walking the streets of Manhattan with a bulls-eye on your back."

I gave him a shriveled expression, because I knew he was right. I didn't want to stick out that night so Dameon could snatch me up unnoticed, and black did seem the perfect color. Heck, if I was going to be the bait I had to do my best camouflage in case things went haywire.

"You'll be there too, right? Watching me?"

"I told you, Shrimp, I'm not taking my eyes off you. I don't care what kind of angels you've got protecting you. You and Kian might be like this," Sam crossed his forefinger and middle finger, "but you are still my lil' sis."

"Thanks." I wiped a single tear from my eye as I turned away from him. I didn't want him to think I couldn't do this without him, but the whole thing just seemed a zillion times better knowing he would be there. He had always been there for me, despite my hissy-fit earlier. After Dad died, it became just him and me looking out for Mom and for each other. He became like my Dad and brother all rolled into one. I owed him everything.

"You're welcome." Sam said. He zipped up my sweater like I was ten again.

"Any other words of advice?" I bumped him in the shoulder with my own as we plopped down side by side on my bed.

"Keep yourself vigilant. Pay attention to your surroundings. I'll be just a block away with a gun and cell in case we need it."

"Don't try being a hero though, Sam. Okay? Promise me." I squirmed at the image of him ripped to shreds at the clawing hands of Dameon. "Just let the angels do their thing."

"I promise I won't get in the way...unless I'm needed."

"Good. One less thing I have to worry about," I chided, and Samuel shook his head with a half-smile as if I took the words right out of his mouth.

***

As evening rolled over the neighborhood, I saw Sam grow tense. He had known the time would come eventually, but now that the plan was coming into action, he would have to let me go and let me be the lure, something he was never good at, letting me go into danger.

When the window creaked, I sensed Kian on the other side and darted to the glass frame to open it. As I drew the thin curtain upward, my eyes met his amber-fire pupils, and I sighed in half-relief, half-ecstasy. The mere vision of him turned me on nowadays. The energy between us only grew in intensity every day we couldn't touch.

Like a delicate perching bird, Kian slipped off the outside edge of the window, and, in ballerina plié landed in my bedroom. Samuel stood by the closet without ever taking his eyes off of Kian. Angel or not, he didn't know him as well as I did, and didn't know if he could really trust him. Besides, the wings pretty much put anyone into a state of momentary wonderment.

"Are you ready?" Kian brushed up against me, his wings like pillows against my side, as close as we would get tonight, and I would take it without complaint.

"Yes." I nodded. Whether I could do this or not was irrelevant. I had to do it. If I didn't, Dameon would eventually find me alone, and that would be it. I would end. I had to put a stop to this now. Tonight would be my moment to shine, to put right everything I had put so terribly wrong.

"Are you ready?" Kian glanced at Samuel, who wore a dark blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, making him appear more buff than usual. A pair of dark jeans and a dark baseball cap finished off his bad-boy street look.

"Anytime," Sam grunted with a glare. As much as Sam knew Kian was on our side, he couldn't bring himself to fully accept him. After all, Kian would be leading me, his 'lil' sis', into the arms of a demon, and Kian, for better or for worse, was also my boyfriend. Then Samuel looked at me and his eyes widened in surprise; they never left mine as Kian picked us both up into his white-winged arms and flew us out into the heavenly clouded skies.

When we finally landed a few blocks from the Riverside Trail, I trembled. It was now or never. I would soon be staring at the demon Dameon face to face. Wrapping his arm over my shoulder, Kian squeezed me once before planting an open wet kiss on my cheek. A few feathers fell from his wings to the concrete path below us.

"You will do fine. You will be fine. I'll be right here. We all will be right here." Kian glanced over at Samuel and then skyward. I saw a hint of a wing sparkle behind a cloud, and I knew that Nathaniel, Krysta and Jacob were close. Before leaving me alone, Kian stared at me. His eyes narrowed and simmered into my own like one long hot bath. Then he sprang into the sky and vanished.

Samuel stood several yards away from me and winked once before I turned away from him to walk my destined path. I had to create distance between me and Samuel, me and any other human, to become this vulnerable lure, this bait that would draw Dameon to me, to his eventual end.

After five minutes I glanced around to see Samuel far behind me, more like a silhouette of him really. Strolling past a kissing couple, I skirted around a corner and stepped up my pace. The cool weather rushed a chill down my spine as goose bumps and hair stood on my arms.

Ten minutes later I found myself without any human contact. Walkers, couples, angels, brothers...they had all disappeared. Just me, the trail, and the Hudson River to my left. I leaned against a large elm tree, resting my palm against the bark. I took a few deep breaths and heard a growl.

My skin crawled as I heard my name whispered in the wind.

"Allison." Dameon taunted me.

I jerked my body around and saw no one, nothing but the river. Blackness covered the distance and the sky. The only light, the sliver of the moon's reflection danced on the surface of the water. A few leaves blew over the ground in a sudden gust of wind.

"Allison."

I jerked back around and again saw nothing but the darkness.

"Where are you? Show yourself, you coward!" I screamed.

Something scratched my neck softly from behind, causing me to shiver and jump at the same time. When my body spun around I balled my fists and found my feet cemented in place.

"Where are you?" My vigilant eyes searched all directions, but this enemy might as well have been a shadow.

"Allison." The taunting grew louder, and something that could have been a long fingernail scratched my shoulder blade.

"Damn you, Dameon!" I shouted. I stomped my foot. The muscles in my face twitched and my brows arched.

"Dameon? Who is he, my dear?" The voice sounded as scratchy as the nail on my skin felt, and then the intruder jumped down from his clandestine spot high in the trees and landed with a thud in front of me. A black cloak wrapped around his dark attire, and raven black hair spiked around his head. Pale silver eyes honed in on my own until he opened his mouth, and all I could see was his fangs. A fanged demon. Shit!

I backed up, only to stumble into the grove of elms. "What do you want?" Why isn't Dameon here? I wanted to ask.

"Your blood, of course." Licking his lips, he acted like a vampire, but I knew his tactic was simple. Either he knew my name from Dameon and he wanted to scare me to death before Dameon came to kill me, or he wanted to kill me himself. But I had to keep my wits about me. He wasn't a vampire, at least not in the same sense as mythology taught. He was a Fanged Demon bent on the hunger of the kill, weaker than a Dark Angel and yet still stronger than I.

My foot fumbled over the twigs and broken branches below me as my hands felt their way through the grove. The further into the grove I got, the further away from the trail I moved, and the closer to the Hudson River. I wondered when Kian and his gang would rescue me, but figured they still wanted to lure Dameon out and wouldn't intervene until they saw him. I had to keep this going and buy time.

Within seconds the Fanged Demon appeared before me as if he were floating over the ground, and maybe he did. After all, he had only lost his gift, not his wings. I imagined somewhere underneath his bony arms resided a pair of black wings which could aid him in his movements.

"You don't want to kill me. Dameon would be extremely upset with you. See, I'm his kill, not yours," I bargained as I took another step backward.

Inching forward, he snarled. "Of course you belong to Dameon, but you see, my dear, Dameon has given me permission to rip you to shreds."

Damn, he knew exactly who I was, and I'd have to think of some other way to save my skin.

"But doesn't Dameon want the pleasure of killing me himself? I mean, after all the trouble I've caused him?" I asked. I was acutely aware of the rattle of wind through the grove.

"Yes, he's told me about all your trouble. I'm going to have fun with this one." The fangs protruded from his mouth like razors as he drew toward me. His black cloak made his attack seem all the more like a movie about vampires. Seething venomously, his open jaw reminded me of a cobra about to strike, and I spun around on the ball of my foot and thrust forward. Dirt churned under my feet as my legs moved faster than I ever knew possible.

But when I reached the edge of the grove, the Hudson River flowed past, a wall to end my escape, and in seconds the Fanged Demon flung himself close behind me.

"Escape is not an option. Just face your death, Allison."

"It's Ali!" I shouted stubbornly. Why couldn't anyone get it straight? If I was going to die, it would be at least with my name preference!

Just when things could not get any worse, I saw out of the corner of my eye a furry beast which lunged and landed next to the Fanged Demon. A Were; just what I needed. As if the fanged monster was not enough! A grizzly growl resounded from its lupine facial features. A repugnant stench like rotting flesh scented his wolfish skin like profane perfume. Deep set, black eyes flicked toward the Fanged Demon, and they both grinned. The stain of blood embedded in the Were's neck fur told me he had killed earlier.

Grass below my sneakers felt slippery, wet, surely frosting from the cold. My lips quivered as I bared my white teeth. The cold of the night crawled up my legs and arms and then up my neck. I had never felt colder. I swallowed my tears and tried to swallow my fear, but I had never felt more alone. When would Kian show up, and why hadn't Samuel burst in here? I had to trust Kian, but it was proving challenging. After all, I had a Were and Fanged Demon on either side of me and the Hudson River behind me. The odds did not fall in my favor. Surely this had been Dameon's plan all along...to let the Were rip me apart as the Fanged beast tore his blade-like teeth into my neck and chest.

Dameon had to be watching from somewhere. He would never miss this opportunity. But had Krysta tracked him yet?
Last Stand

As the last sliver of moon hid behind the branch of the elm tree, my last hint of light dissipated and the only hint of illumination came from the four monstrous eyes of the two demon creatures. One pair was pale blue and the other, stone black. Demons had a kind of star-shine quality to their eyes which glowed in the dark, I suppose like all predators who hunt at night: the lion, the alligator and hawk.

But I didn't want demon eyes to be the last thing I ever saw.

Turning my head to the river, I watched the crests of waves lap against the riverbank. I looked back at the demons. One opened his mouth again and again, while the other flexed his arms and chest and growled. Death would be imminent if I didn't do something fast.

"Feel free to squeal," The vampire-wanna-be commented under his breath as he took a step in my direction. I could almost feel his pointy incisors on the skin of my neck before I whirled around and dove into the Hudson.

My head bobbed up and down as water rushed into my mouth. Shivering, I hugged myself as I floated downstream. Moonlight radiated over the grove I had left, and I saw Samuel pull out his gun and heard a shot. In the distance I also made out Krysta and Jacob as they jumped on top of the Were. I couldn't see everything, but there was a rumble of bodies in the dark, and I heard a few hisses, growls, and then another gunshot. And then silence.

My body floated several yards down the Hudson before I drifted to shore and hauled myself out on the land. I shivered, and my lips must have purpled, but I still breathed. My pulse beat strong. The two monsters hadn't killed me! I wrapped my arms around myself as I stumbled through the elm grove many yards away from where I had almost been attacked. Drenched in water, my sneakers squeaked with each step.

"Kian, where are you?" I whispered, hoping he'd finally hear me. I felt starved for him to be near, to touch me, to feel his warm presence.

Suddenly, a stream of grey-white fog swirled between my feet and up my ankles. I remembered that feeling so well. Closing my eyes, I let the fog encase me, all of me. If ever I needed Kian on me, it was now.

Soft to the skin's touch, I felt the fog crawl up my leg and over my belly button, over my chest, breasts, and then my neck. It was as close as I could ever get to being one with Kian. My heart still pounded from my near-death experience, and now with Kian so close on me, my heart beat even faster. Death and ecstasy intermingled.

With the mist swirling around my neck I felt a tug. It felt tighter and tighter. Like a belt the fog fastened around my neck. When I felt myself unable to fully swallow, I fell to my knees. "Kian?" I could barely say his name. But as the fog manifested, I saw the outline of Dameon's form standing before me, and his callous left hand secured itself around my supple neck. His right hand slapped me across my reddening cheek.

"You've been a thorn in my side for far too long. It ends here." He threw me backward while still holding onto my neck. My back popped as he released me.

Just like the first time he tried to kill me, he had the upper hand because of my foolish romantic notions. Dark, resigned eyes appeared dead to my sight as the grey light from the moon became anemic. The color in my face must have paled as I felt my pulse weaken.

He dropped me to the ground, and his foot crushed my back. As I squirmed on the dirty ground in the grove, my wet clothes took on patches of mud. I shook in fear as Dameon bared his sharp teeth. Fangs drew close to my neck. He must have killed more humans since last time I saw him, giving up his gift of fire for fangs. Just like his father, I guess, breaking all the rules governing the paranormals. The demon king, a Were...and his son the prince, a Fanged beast.

As Dameon's fangs ripped into my neck like a careless lion, I saw my life flash before me, all the times I had spent with Kian, and then I saw the Were and Fanged Demon that were sent to kill me. Just like father and son.

As blood drained from my neck and I became too weak to stand, I struggled to keep my eyelids open, but I pushed myself upward enough to see out of the corner of my eyes. Suddenly, Nathaniel and Kian landed in the elm grove. White wings spanned from one tree to the next like a celestial dream.

Nathaniel threw out his arms, his hands open with palms facing Dameon. Within seconds shots of fire rang out from underneath his skin and moved in rhythmic wave patterns toward Dameon. In response, Dameon quickly dove into the moist dirt below him, his hands and knees scraping. The surge of fire rushed over his back, just missing him, but it managed to scorch his spine.

Squealing like a pig in pain, Dameon rolled over and jumped to his feet. His dead eyes searched out an elm branch dangling close by and, as he leapt for the elevated freedom, Nathaniel darted at him and hit Dameon squarely in the chest, knocking him over again onto the muddy ground. As they tumbled over each other, I heard a punch and then a rumble from the mud and, though I couldn't see very well, I made out two dark shadows ripping into each other. They sounded like two rabid dogs. On occasion a flare of fire would shoot up, and I heard what I swear could have been fingernails scraping into skin.

As Nathaniel kept Dameon busy, Kian leapt to me and held my head, checking my wounds, putting light pressure on my throat, and even calling my name a few times, but I felt too weak to answer. "Damn it, Ali, say something!" he pleaded as I watched his elegant feathery wings undulate in the wind. "Keep your eyes open!" I blinked and tried to focus on his voice as I went in and out of consciousness.

Nathaniel beat his fists and legs into Dameon's chest. But Dameon clawed at Nathaniel's eyes with sharp hawk-like nails, leaving deep scratch marks. My eyes blinked shut, and I heard Kian shout Nathaniel's name. "Nathaniel! Nooo!" Kian darted away from me.

Opening my eyes, I saw Kian leap onto Dameon and yank his neck backward. With Dameon's sharp fingernails dug into Nathaniel face and his fangs deep in Nathaniel's neck, I knew Nathaniel must have felt like me...like death had just crawled up inside him.

As blood leaked from Nathaniel, the color drained from his face. He must have looked like me, too: colorless. I tried to say something, to order Kian to take Nathaniel away from here and save him, to save himself. But no words came out of my frail lips. I only felt my blood draining from the gaping holes in my neck and watched the crimson color bleed over the muddy ground, making some kind of frosting I could have used on Christmas cupcakes. My mind felt hazy and vague.

But the silhouette of Kian lunged to his friend with an outstretched hand. He pulled Nathaniel up off the ground as Dameon laughed with the sound of a hyena. Blood dripped from Dameon's fangs with each bone-chilling chuckle. His face looked half charcoaled, from Nathaniel's fire thrower. But Nathaniel looked like a rag doll, unable to stand alone, dependent on Kian for movement. I felt so bad, so sorry. I wanted to do something, anything, but I couldn't even keep my eyes open for more than thirty seconds.

All I could hear was the eerie guffaw of Dameon echo through the grove and through my thumping ears as my lids closed. Then I heard familiar voices.

"Where are you, Kian?" Krysta shouted from a few yards away from me.

"He's over here." I heard Jacob.

"Where is my sister?" Samuel's voice demanded; brown eyes beating like coals about to be lit on fire.

Dameon hissed. "Make a choice. Me or your friend or Ali." Dameon's sinister plan turned my blood hot as my vision grew black.

Silence.

Then a rustling sound moved toward me.

"I'll have the pleasure of killing you, Kian, another day." Dameon's words floated over me and then his presence disappeared, surely escaping somewhere into the sky.

I could not see a thing, not even with my eyes open. I couldn't be sure if I even felt my body anymore. I know I couldn't move my legs or arms.

"Where is she?" I heard Samuel cry.

"Stay away. It will do no good for you to see her like this." Krysta said, and I heard bodies wrestle.

"I'll hold him." Jacob answered and there was another rustling sound.

"Ali!" Sam cried, and I wanted to cry back to him.

Nothing came out.

"Ali, Ali?" Kian shook me.

"She is going to die if we don't do something now," Krysta whispered over me.

Die?

"You must use me, use my wings." Nathaniel's voice sounded like an angel mature beyond his years.

"Use you?" Kian snapped. "That will kill you."

"I'm dead in minutes anyway. I've lost too much blood from my back, from my neck. I am too weak."

"Don't say that!" Kian barked. "We can get you back to the mansion. Sammael will heal you."

"I'm too far gone, and what about Ali? What doctor can repair her damage? We would never get her the help she needs in time."

"But..." Kian's tears fell over my neck and rolled down my chest. The only sensation I could still feel.

Krysta touched my wrist. "Her heartbeat is fading fast. We have to do something!"

"I've always been different." Nathaniel confessed. "The only angel with the gift of fire. What if I was created to save Ali." He declared this like a fact, not a question. Then I heard a loud rip.

"Your wing!" Kian reacted in shock. Then a soft cushion of feathers folded beneath my back and wrapped around my chest. Warmth. Somehow, the exhausting pain lessened.

"Tear off the other one! Now! Before she is dead," Nathaniel demanded, and I heard Kian whimper just before there was the sound of another popping tear. The second wing felt warm on my body, wrapped around me like a baby blanket.

"Arghhhhh." Nathaniel shrieked. The pain must have been agonizing as the blood drained from his sides, his back and his neck. Within seconds I heard him no more.

"Nathaniel!" Krysta and Kian cried out his name as they withdrew from my presence.

"What have you done to her?" Samuel screamed. He must have broken away from Jacob, because I heard his footsteps pound closer to me.

"Saved her life." Kian declared.

"Ali! Ali!" Samuel put his hand under my neck as his tears fell over my eyelids and cheek.

Krysta, Kian and Jacob grew silent.

"Ali!" Samuel's head fell to my chest to hear my heartbeat as blood began to vehemently churn in my veins. Energy surged through my bones and cracked my back into place. A radiant glow engulfed me. The soreness of my neck alleviated as I moved my fingers over the holes the fangs had left.

As my fingers touched the openings, they healed and sealed up beneath newly forming skin. The wings wrapped around me, fused beneath my arms, and became like my own limbs. I felt warm...like the sun. I had never felt more energized, like every sickness, cold, or injury I ever had vanished inside this perfect form. This perfect angelic creature that became...ME.

"Ali? Are you alright?" I heard Samuel's sigh of relief when my fingers moved over my neck. Opening my eyes I saw my brother first, and then I glanced at Kian, who was still hanging over Nathaniel's deplumed body. Jacob held Krysta as she sobbed.

Using my hands to push me upward, I stood erect, and the wings that used to belong to Nathaniel fluttered on either side of my body.

"Ali, your eyes!" Sam looked flabbergasted at my appearance.

"What?" I shrugged.

"Your eyes are silver-violet."

I moved my arms to hug Sam but found my wings in the way. "I have wings!" I must have looked perplexed and pleased at the same time.

"Yes, you do." Jacob assured me that he saw them too.

"What happened to you? What are you?" Samuel's brows quirked and his expression looked grave as he took a step backward.

"She is like us now," Kian told him.

"A demon thing!" Sam snapped.

"An angel." Kian answered matter-of-factly. I guess it was best Sam learned the new facts quickly.

"Why? What did you do to her?" Sam batted his hands as he talked as if he could throw a punch.

"Calm down, Sam!" I defended Kian. "I was going to die! Nathaniel saved me! I would have died if he had not given me his wings!" I turned to Nathaniel lifeless body on the ground and whispered his name. The sacrifice he made sat heavily on my mind. Nathaniel was dead. He died to save me. I fell beside his body and waved my — his wings — over him. My forehead rested on his chest. Kian laid his hands over my shoulders as he stood behind me. Krysta stayed in Jacob's comforting arms. Samuel remained dumfounded for some time while watching us, me. Or at least what used to be me.

Sam mulled over this angelology and retorted, "So, if Ali is an angel now and not human," he gulped, "then what does that mean for Dameon? I mean, he is still out there!"

Kian rubbed his forehead before answering. "Because Ali's human form no longer exists, Dameon has regained his Essence power. He will have felt the power shift as we all did. He might actually believe she is dead."

"So, he will leave her alone?" Samuel's eyes lit up brightly.

"Possibly, but he still has you to contend with to regain his full Essence." Jacob interjected.

"So...how come Dameon was so strong anyway? I thought if a demon loses Essence he becomes weak." Samuel quirked his brows.

"Dameon is weaker than he should be, but then so am I," Kian answered, "and so is Jacob, Krysta and..." He glanced at Nathaniel and grew silent.

Jacob finished. "Besides, Dameon is one of the strongest demons since he is the prince, the son of the demon king Azrael. His strength will be greater than all other demons."

Samuel nodded, assuring us he didn't have any more questions, but I knew Mom was heavy on his mind. What would we tell her? Would I have to hide my wings from her forever?

Eventually quiet encased all of us and we had nothing else to distract our attention away from the fact that our friend, an angel, lay dead in the grove before us. Turning in Nathaniel's direction, we stayed like that for at least ten minutes in silence before we heard a giggling couple strolling along the trail, yards from us. "We had better get out of here before someone sees us." Kian warned.

"You won't say anything to your cop buddies, right?" Jacob stared Samuel straight in the eyes. "We don't need any heat on our paranormal activities."

"I have to admit the thought crossed my mind. But I can see we would be in way over our heads. Besides, I don't want more demons fixed on killing humans to regain their Essence."

"Good. Then we can trust you to keep this, us, a secret," Jacob concluded, and Sam nodded with a tug on his baseball cap.

"We didn't kill Dameon. He is still out there," Kian fumed. Kian must have felt defeated in a way. Dameon escaped. Nathaniel died. And I almost died.

"So much for plans," Krysta responded.

"Yeah." Jacob rolled his eyes.

"But I did figure a few things out," Krysta reasoned.

"What?" Jacob let go of her as her tears eased.

"I'll have to tell you all later, in private." Krysta glared at Sam and me.

"No, I am as much as part of this as Ali is, as any of you are. Ali risked her life to help you, and I risked my life too. We deserve to know what you know. This is our war now, too," Samuel fought tooth and nail.

"He is right," Kian agreed. "Besides, anything you tell me I will tell Ali eventually anyway."

"And I'll tell Sam." I lifted my head from Nathaniel's chest.

"Fine," Krysta huffed.

"What is it?" Kian pried himself away from me to stare at Krysta.

"I think there is a bigger reason why Azrael is a Were and Dameon is Fanged."

"Yeah?" Jacob listened intently as Krysta continued.

"The two creatures who attacked Ali were newborns. Newborns raised to kill humans."

"What does that mean?" I asked naively.

Kian processed the information quickly and turned to me. "I think what Krysta is trying to say is that Azrael and Dameon are building an army of newborn Weres and Fangs."

"But why?" I pushed myself up from Nathaniel. Dirt stained my fingers and nails.

"To kill the remaining angels and take over Manhattan," Jacob interjected like a sage.

We all exchanged glances before Jacob walked over to Nathaniel's body. "We will take him home now to be buried in peace." Jacob lifted Nathaniel with Krysta's help.

"And I'll take you two home," Kian told me as I watched Nathaniel disappear into the sky on his last flight, suspended between Jacob and Krysta. That would be the last time I ever saw Nathaniel, but I'd never forget him.
Aftermath

Took me a week to figure out how to work those wings of mine. Kian stayed with me every day and every night, unknown to Mom. He'd push the wings in underneath my arms and fit them into the slot of skin on my sides. I guess every angel had skin like this, opening and shutting un-der their arms to allow the wings to enter and exit the body. But it felt weird to me.

One night I couldn't draw my wings into my skin, and I fell onto my bed too exhausted to try again. When I awoke, the wings had naturally inserted themselves inside my form. I figured I just didn't have to try so hard. Kian being there helped a lot. When I finally mastered the control of my wings, I wanted to resume as much normalcy as I could. I still had no idea how to fly, but figured that would come in time. Flying was not my main priority now; I wanted my life back. After everything I'd been through, I deserved it.

I decided to return to Millennium High School. Mom looked pleased. Samuel struggled with the notion of not having me locked up in the house where he could watch me and know I'd be safe. After all, Dameon believed me dead, and if I continued to show myself around the city, it would not take him very long to figure out that I was still alive.

"Be careful is all I'm saying." Samuel tugged on my shoulder before I bolted through the front door.

"I will be, Sam. You don't have to worry." My face squished like it does when I half-lie.

"But I do have to worry. What if Dameon is back at school? Or on the streets? He'll see you."

I placed my hand on the beige wildfowl cap hiding all my hair. As I took off the hat, I waved my head back and forth, and my recently dyed hair fell over my breasts. "That is why I went blond." I slipped on a pair of sunglasses and puckered my cherry lips. "I'm ready for war."

"Wow, Ali. You look completely different."

"I know, right?"

"How are you getting to school?" Sam worried, and the creases in his forehead thickened.

"Jennifer is picking me up as usual. Mol will be there, too."

"So the gang is back?"

"Yep."

I took a step onto the porch before Sam stopped me again. "Don't you think hanging with Jen and Mol will be a dead giveaway? It would be smarter to lay low."

"I will lay low, Sam. But I can't just ditch my best friends for the rest of the year. They are the only close friends I've got."

"Fine, but just..."

"I know, be careful." I pulled my arm from his grip as Jennifer honked her horn. I raced up to meet her and hopped into the slippery leather backseat.

"Damn, Ali! You didn't tell me you were going platinum blond!" Jen reacted with a jerk of her head. Molly whipped around and grinned.

"What happened since last time we saw you, anyhow?" Molly retorted in jest. "Another break-up."

"No, no. Nothing like that," I told them.

"Kian likes blonds better?" Jennifer added to the antics.

"No, I just wanted a change is all...and I'd prefer you don't make such a scene about this. I don't want to be the talk of the school." I pulled my hair into a ponytail and tied it there.

"Well, your hair does look nice, different is all, but nice." Jennifer used diplomacy well.

"I'm just dying to find out what brought about the change," Molly insisted.

"Enough about me. What have you two been up to? I haven't seen you guys for a while." I changed the subject. Jennifer loved talking about herself.

As the sedan drove the familiar roads heading to Millennium High I felt like maybe I could get through this year after all.

Jennifer went first. "Well, remember Michael Cross?"

"You mean the soccer player in your second period class?" I clarified.

"Yep, that would be the one."

"What about him?"

Molly jumped in. "Jen and Michael are going to Prom together!"

"Molly, I wanted to tell her!" Jennifer snapped.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself." Mol bounced in her front seat.

"That's great news! I knew he liked you." I supported her with a tug on my sunglasses. As we approached the high school, I wanted to remain as disguised as possible.

When we hit the parking lot, Molly continued, "I think I will be going stag. Who needs a date anyway?"

"You'll find someone." I threw my arm around her neck. "Someone worthy of your quirky sweetness."

"Well, I'm content just being there with my two best friends," Molly defended her bachelorette status. "As long as you two are there, I'll have fun."

I pecked Molly on the cheek, and that is when I saw it. A silver angel necklace looped around her neck.

"Where did you get that necklace?" I reacted with a rather curious-suspicious tone.

Mol wrapped her pinky around the silver cord. "You mean this?"

"Yeah, I've never seen you wear it before," I added.

"Oh, Mom gave it to me just yesterday. She said it used to be Gramma's necklace when Grams roamed with the gypsies. Then when Grams died, Mom kept the necklace in her jewelry box. Mom said she wanted me to have it now."

"Oh." My mind circled with unanswered questions. Why now? Did Mol's gypsy relatives know something about the paranormal world? Better yet, did Molly's mother? Or Mol herself? I wanted to know the answers to these questions, and yet how could I ever ask? I couldn't just ask Molly or her mom if she knew about the angels and demons wandering the streets of Manhattan.

But something told me Molly knew more than she let on.

At the front doors of Millennium High I parted ways with my two best friends in the whole world. Walking up the halls of my high school again felt nostalgic and yet foreign. I hardly felt like the same person. Really, I wasn't the same person. At my locker, combination 17-75-7, I noticed the locker to my left sat unopened, unoccupied.

Suddenly, a blond haired junior with a hint of a mustache and deep green eyes threw his hand over the vacant locker. "Hey! I'm Chris."

His blond curls bounced on his head like a shampoo commercial as I smiled politely. "I'm Ali."

"I'll be using this locker now. I was told the previous owner moved or something."

"Yeah," I shrugged, "I guess he did." I sighed in relief. Maybe Millennium High would remain safe, at least until Prom, which, by the way, I still had no date for.

"Well, I'll see you later. Gotta get to class."

"Yeah, sure. Later." I bit my lip in thought. I wondered where Dameon would be spending his time now.

As I turned from my locker with my NOOK and notebook in hand, Kian stood before me, stopping me in my tracks.

"Something wrong?" I gripped my NOOK.

"No, nothing." Kian grinned. "I just wanted to see my girlfriend to her first class back at school."

"Oh, good." I slipped my hand into his, and this time I didn't feel a struggle within Kian. "I thought you were going to tell me Dameon re-enrolled or something."

"Nope. Dameon won't be a problem at this school any longer, at least as long as he believes you're dead."

"We'd better keep up that ruse then, huh?" I jested with a wink.

"Love your hair by the way. Do it yourself?" Kian stroked my back and then curled his fingers over my neck.

"Yes, I did. Thanks."

Kian drew my head close to his with a twist of his hand and then slid his lips over mine just before slipping his tongue into my mouth. We stood in the middle of the hall French kissing for the first time for several minutes before a student bumped me trying to get through. I wanted to apologize for the rudeness, but my eyes stayed fixed on Kian. I couldn't believe what Kian had just done.

"French kissing? Isn't that illegal or something? What about your wings?" I worried with furrowed brows.

Chuckling, Kian whispered, "You don't understand, do you?"

"Understand what?'

"You are not human anymore. You are like me. Your touch no longer diminishes my wings."

I stood dumbfounded for a few moments, probably the same way Samuel felt as he stood in the grove watching me become an angel.

"You mean...we can touch, kiss..."

"Yes. We are the same now. The rules exist between my kind and humans only."

I could have swooned and fallen into his chest. His arms caught me. "So, will you go to Prom with me, now that we can touch?"

"Is that why you didn't ask me earlier? Because we couldn't touch? I would have said yes anyway," I told him.

"I didn't want to take away your only memory of Junior Prom by your being with someone whom you could barely dance with or kiss."

I rolled my eyes and huffed. "You could have asked me."

"I'm asking you now. So what is it, Ali? Will you go with me?"

I paused as if there could be any question in my mind, but I wanted him to squirm just a little. "Yes!"

Kian grinned his largest grin, and then he took my hand. He walked me to English class and let me go at the closing door.

"Time for first period. I'll be here after the dismissal bell."

"Just like old times," I teased.

"Except there is no high school demon to contend with," Kian corrected, puckering his lips. We kissed, and the relationship felt real, like a real boyfriend and girlfriend. For the first time, I could show him how I felt on a physical level, and that felt good.

Walking into English class, I waved goodbye to Kian. As my eyes searched for my seat, I noticed the vacant chair where Dameon used to sit. His absence left me feeling satisfied. I had Kian all to myself now. I would be his AngelGirl and he my AngelGuy, and we would be able to connect on all levels now, not just emotionally. And Dameon would not be here to interfere, at least for now. I wanted to daydream about all the time Kian and I would spend together, discovering each other all over again. But throughout the day I couldn't shake the itch to ponder all the unresolved problems.

Despite Dameon not being at Millennium High, he would still be in Manhattan, in New York. I would have to watch my back. Newborn demons would be encouraged to become Were and Fanged. The city would be at war. Dameon would be able to sense that Samuel still existed and would stop at nothing to kill him. I would have to learn how to fly and fully control my wings and gifts. What was my gift anyway? Oh yeah, Fire like Nathaniel! And then I would have to fight alongside the angels to put a stop to Dameon and the newborn demons.

***

At home that evening, my head felt dizzy with all the thoughts of the future...until Kian appeared. His mist crawled up alongside the window and through the crack and over my bedroom floor and onto my bed. Then the sun set, and purple-orange hues intermingled.

As the mist dispersed, his shape took form, and he had never looked more appealing. The colorful sky glowed over his golden skin, and my wings ruffled out of their skin shell in innate reaction. Tousled hair, with one leg up and the other down, I waited for Kian to slip in next to me. Didn't take long.

He usually kept his distance at night while he watched me, but now he didn't have to. There were no more rules keeping us apart. Sliding in underneath the covers, he curled up alongside me and our warm bodies exchanged heat, energy. For the first time we didn't have to fear being close. We didn't kiss. We didn't have to. We stayed like this all through the night. Being this close after so long became enough for us...for now.
THE END
Discussion Questions:

_How would you describe Allison Maney?_

Did you like the AngelFire once you met them? Who did you like most? Least?

How did you feel about Ali ditching her friends for Dameon? Would you forgive your best friend?

When do you think Ali really fell for Kian?

How do you feel the mist form of the Angel plays an important role in the story?

How do you think Lucianda fits into the story and influences Ali?

What do you think will happen with Ali and Kian individually and as a couple in book two, Falling Angels?
From the Author

Thank you to all my supporters, family, friends, and fans for making this novel not just a dream, but a reality.

A special thank you to my beta-readers and editors! Without all of your readership, fan sup-port and advice, I would not be able to do what I do. I love writing. It has always been my pas-sion and I am so fortunate to be able to write the stories I love for my readers.

The AngelFire Chronicles: She Speaks to Angels, Dumah's Demons, Falling Angels, and Angel Codes.

http://amiblackwelder.blogspot.com

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Ami Blackwelder is a Paranormal and Scifi author. Her stories range from Tween, YA and Adult. Growing up in Florida, she graduated UCF and in 1997 received her BA in English and additional teaching credentials. Then she packed her bags and travelled overseas to teach in Thailand, Nepal, Tibet, China and Korea. Thailand is considered her second home now. She has always loved writing and wrote poems and short stores since childhood; however, her novels began when she was in Thailand.

Having won the Best Fiction Award from the University of Central Florida (Yes, The Blair Witch Project University), her short fiction From Joy We Come, Unto Joy We Return was published in the on campus literary magazine: Cypress Dome and remains to this day in University libraries around the USA. Later, she achieved the semi-finals in a Laurel Hemingway contest and published a few poems in the Thailand's Expat magazine, and an article in the Thailand's People newspaper. Additionally, she has published poetry in the Korea's AIM magazine, the American Poetic Monthly magazine and Twisted Dreams Magazine.
