Stolen Wings (not permanent yet) (standard:fantasy, 7675 words)
Author: kissofthehungry	Added: Feb 02 2009	Views/Reads: 2905/2187	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Shauna comes to Earth to learn what mortality feels like so as an Angel of the High Order, she can better understand the human position. But Heaven's been lying and Mason's about to destroy everything she knows. If you guys can read this and let me know

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

do this.”  There was no answer from my mentor and Heaven held its 
tongue too.  I was alone, in pain, and out in the middle of nowhere.  A 
sigh escaped me, may as well begin my term of torture... well, it had 
clearly already begun so I may as well accept it.  I forced myself to 
stand up and whimpered at the bristles and rocks stinging the bottom of 
my feet.  Trying not to curse Gwendyth for not blessing me with shoes, 
I began limping towards the east, hoping that I would find 
civilization. 

Bailey sat on her porch, the fan squeaking slightly as it slowly
rotated.  Her typewriter was in front of her, waiting for the words to 
pore out of her, but there were none.  Grumbling about “damn writer's 
block”, she pushed the type writer away from her and leaned back in her 
chair, staring out at the desert.  She needed to write something soon, 
her editor was getting impatient for some sort of update.  It had been 
so long since she had felt the inspiration that she couldn't help but 
wonder if her talent had deserted her all together. 

A pain pierced her chest, suddenly, she was thinking of Jessie.  Fifteen
years ago, when she was a senior in high school, she'd fallen madly in 
love with Jessie and he with her.  They'd had a whirlwind romance and 
made plans to get married.  Three weeks before their set date, Jessie 
had disappeared.  Everyone had assumed he'd grown cold feet but Bailey 
had known better.  She had been sure he was dead and had told anyone 
who would listen to her that it was so.  Something inside of her had 
died with him and she knew that he was never coming back. 

A month later, they'd found his body out in the desert.  He'd been shot
and robbed and it would later come out that he had witnessed a drug 
deal gone bad and the killer of the dealer had made sure there were no 
witnesses.   The killer would never be brought to justice, the evidence 
collecting had been botched and he got off on a technicality. 

A tear slid down Bailey's cheek, even now, her heart still ached with
the injustice of it all.  Her heart had never recovered from the loss 
and at thirty two, she was still single and had made sure that she was 
away from civilization so that no one would make the mistake of 
thinking that she had more to offer.  There was more to it than she 
didn't want anyone to fall in love with her, she didn't want to love 
anyone else.  She knew firsthand what happened when you cared deeply 
for someone, they were ripped violently and painfully from you and she 
didn't ever want that pain again. 

Something caught her attention, distracting her from her painful musings
and suddenly, she found herself leaning forward in her chair; there was 
someone out in the distance.  For a moment, she wondered if it was a 
mirage and then the person lurched at an odd angle and she was sure 
that they were real and in trouble. 

Without thinking, she ran inside and grabbed her keys then hopped in her
Toyota and threw it into reverse.  She threw sand and rocks up in every 
direction as she roared out of her driveway and then she was off in the 
direction that she had seen the strange apparition.  Trying not to run 
over anything too dramatic, she drove as fast as she dared through the 
landscape and then she saw the person collapse and all care for her 
“yard” evaporated out the window.  She floored it and only stopped when 
she could make out the young woman lying on the ground. 

Her eyes were closed but she had one of the most beautiful faces that
Bailey had ever seen.  Her skin was dramatically white with pale pink 
rosebuds of natural blush on her cheeks.  She had a soft, supple set of 
lips that were almost iridescent pink as if she had lipstick on but as 
far as Bailey could tell, the young woman wore none.  She had high 
arched light brown eyebrows and dark golden blonde hair.  It had been 
ages since Bailey had seen someone without dyed blonde hair and even 
then, that person had been no older than ten, not an adult so her hair 
was quite striking.  The young woman was clothed in a white gown that 
was torn and tattered with dirt smudges ruining its brilliant white and 
she wore no shoes, so the bottom of her feet were bleeding and filthy. 
She wasted no time in dragging the young woman over to her truck and 
hoisting her up into the cab.  It took a lot of work and by the time 
she was done, she was drenched in sweat.  Once she got her buckled in, 
she hurried back to her side and hopped in. 

“Hang on sweetie, I'll take care of you,” she promised and took her back
home.  Once again, it was a lot of work but she was finally able to 
wrestle the woman into her bed.  Knowing one of the biggest killers of 
the desert was dehydration; she went and got a sponge and some water.  
Carefully she sponged water onto the young woman's chapped lips and 
even in her passed out state; she opened her mouth for more. After 
Bailey was confident she had some water in her system, she carefully 
cleaned off the woman's feet.  They were in horrible condition, ripped 
up land full of desert stickers and little pebbles.  It was unpleasant 
to take care of, for not only were her feet nasty to clean but each 
time Bailey had to pull a sticker or pebble out, the woman moaned with 
pain. 

“Oh honey, what have you been through?” she asked out loud when she
stopped for a breather.  Then she finished tending to her feet and 
walked back out to the porch.  Her inspiration had arrived in the form 
of a disheveled, abandoned young woman and when she sat at the type 
writer, the words poured out of her. 

I woke up in an unfamiliar bed, my feet bandaged and a cup of water on
the nightstand beside me.  The sight of the cup spurred an almost 
violent movement from me as I gripped it as swiftly as I could.  I 
chugged the water down gratefully, my throat parched and swollen.  It 
felt as if I could actually feel the cells in my throat soaking up the 
water, absorbing it and thanking me for giving them more.  The desert 
had not done me any favors and even though I enjoyed the water, I 
couldn't suppress a slight shiver from the memories of the desert. 

When I finished drinking the water, I gingerly placed my feet on the
floor.  Pain shot up my legs and made me grit my teeth... “How do 
humans put up with this pain?” I thought and with grim determination, 
stood up.  My limbs felt wobbly and I thought she was going to fall 
down but after I managed to stay put for a few seconds, I took a 
cautious step forward.  At least my missing wings no longer burned my 
back with pain, just a forlorn absence.  Being mortal definitely had 
drawbacks. 

I made my way out the front door and found an older woman sitting on the
porch, typing frantically at a computer.  The woman had dark curly 
brown hair mostly caught up in a bun with streaks of gray punctuating 
it here and there.  She wore a set of reading glasses that made her 
dark brown eyes seem bigger than they were and emphasized the wrinkles 
that accented her face.  Her lips were pulled into a thin line of 
concentration and she had her tongue sticking out the corner of her 
mouth.  The woman was on the plumper side, not obese, just a bit larger 
and even though I hadn't a chance to look into the woman's eyes, I 
could feel pain radiating off her in waves. 

“Did you rescue me?” I broke the clacking pattern and was surprised at
how broken and damaged my voice sounded.  I swallowed painfully and 
wished that I'd had enough sense to bring the cup with me to get more 
water. 

The woman looked up with a start and I had a chance to stare directly
into her eyes.  The grief reflected in them made me feel as if I were 
drowning in sorrow and I put a hand to my stomach to steady myself.  
Such intense suffering, the woman had lost someone dear to her and I 
could tell that she would never recover from the open wound, at least 
not on her own.  “Yes, I saw you out there and got to you as fast as I 
could.  How are your feet doing?” she asked, her voice sounded warm and 
gentle, like what I imagined a mother's voice to sound like.  I 
couldn't help but be drawn to such a voice and to the vulnerability it 
managed to mask. 

“They hurt like nothing I've ever felt before but they are not
unbearable,” I replied, careful to avoid looking the woman in her face 
so that I wouldn't feel that pain again, “Thank you for saving me, I 
really appreciate your help.  Who am I thanking by the way?” 

“I'm Bailey, Bailey Marknup, and who are you?  Why were you there?  Did
someone hurt you?  Do I need to call the police?” the woman launched 
into a string of questions and I felt battered by the onslaught of 
words.  I put up a hand almost as if I could physically stop the words 
streaming from her mouth, protect myself from their overwhelming 
number. 

“No, no need to call anyone, I was only hurt by the desert and I can't
say how I got out there.  Only that I was left in a rather odd 
location,” I took a breath, trying to figure out just how much I should 
share with Bailey, “My name's Shauna, I have no other name, just 
Shauna.”  Prepared for the grief I would find, I looked at Bailey 
again.  This time, perhaps because I was prepared for it, I didn't feel 
Bailey's pain even sort of as strongly. 

“Oh,” she sounded so disappointed by my explanation, “Well, um, is there
somewhere you need me to take you?  Someone who's missing you?” 

I sat down on the ground to take some of the stress off of my feet, “No,
I have nowhere to go, no one who misses me.  I am alone.”  My eyes 
wandered up to the blue sky and she sighed, “Completely alone.  They 
will not come back for me for a full year.” 

“Who will not come back for you?  And why a year?” Bailey pounced on the
revelation like it was a treasure. 

I looked at my rescuer, trying to decide what I should say and then I
decided that I needed someone to trust in my new life and that Bailey, 
though full of heartache, was as a good person as any, “I am an angel.” 
 I hoped that it wasn't against any Heavenly law to share my origin but 
I d hadn't been warned and it seemed more helpful than harmful. 

Bailey snorted, “Didn't know angels could bleed.” 

I ignored the sarcasm and disbelief and solemnly explained, “I bleed
because I am to live as a mortal for a year.  I wish to be in the High 
Order, the angels who tend to bringing miracles down to your plane of 
existence.  However, before I can do so, I must known what it is like 
to be human.  I must know pain and suffering but do good while 
experiencing it.  I must spread goodwill and use my talents to ease 
fellow humans' distress.” 

“Riiiiiight,” Bailey looked as if she regretted helping me out.  I
didn't want her to waste a moment of regret upon me so I offered my 
only hope of assistance to her.  It may not have been my wisest move 
but I wanted her to understand that I was real and understand what I 
could do, even for her. 

“Bailey, I could help you out. I could smooth away the pain of your loss
so that your heart could heal,” I reached out a hand tentatively and 
Bailey leapt out of her chair as if she had been shocked.  Her reaction 
made me yank my hand back and the fire in her eyes made me wonder what 
I had done wrong.  I was only trying to help her, ease the grief that 
ripped her apart inside.  It had not been my intention to offend her 
so. 

“What do you know of my pain? Of my loss?  How do you know anything
about it at all?  Who are you?” she blurted, her voice full of anger. 
“I already told you, I am an angel.  And I know because your eyes burn 
with pain.  You have let whatever happened eat at you until you are 
nothing but pain inside.  I can make it go away,” I offered, still 
trying to make it clear that my intentions were good. 

Bailey stepped away, “No, I don't want it to go away.  I don't want to
love again, Jessie was my everything.” 

“I'm sorry; I didn't mean to upset you.  I just want to help you. 
That's why I'm here, to help people out,” I implored my savior to 
understand, to realize that I was only trying to help.  It was 
difficult to understand why someone would want to hurt, would want to 
suffer as she so clearly was, and try as I might, I couldn't wrap my 
head around the idea. 

Bailey eyed me suspiciously and then spoke slowly, “Say I do believe
you, what next?” 

That wasn't the response I had been expecting so for a moment, I was
tongue tied.  During that moment, I thought about living as a mortal, 
“Well, I guess I need to find a place to stay and then begin helping 
others out.” 

Bailey was silent and then spoke as if she regretted each word, “Well,
you're welcome to stay with me, if you want.  So, if you stay with me, 
how do you go about helping others out?”  Her words touched me more 
than I could say, she didn't know me and obviously still was having 
issues believing what I had told her but she was still opening her 
house up to me.  I understood why angels helped humans out, they did 
innately have good in them and we had to do our best to ensure that it 
did not become so tainted that Heaven's gates were barred to them. 

“You don't have to let me stay but if you're really okay with that... I
think I need to go to an area most known for crime,” I explained, 
thinking that starting in the worse part of town was my best case for 
working on something good. 

“That would be Main Street in WestTown but I'm not sure that you really
want to go there,” she started and I cocked my eyebrow for an 
explanation, “Well, you're beautiful, I mean really beautiful and that 
area, though heavy on tourist travel, is also well known for really 
malicious crimes, particularly against women, to occur.  I mean, that 
place is so bad that even the cops tend to steer clear of it.” 

“Well, sounds perfect then,” I nodded, her meaning not lost upon me, and
Bailey looked as if I were crazy.  We didn't have much more 
conversation except to find a pair of slippers for my sensitive feet.  
Every step I took was as if I were stepping across glass but it didn't 
feel nearly as bad with the soft slippers cushioning my soles. 

Main Street did not look bad, at least to the undiscerning eye.   It was
full of people milling around, looking at the boutiques and cute 
restaurants that lined the street.  At the end was a massive hotel and 
casino in one that towered over the whole town like a gaudy diamond in 
the middle of delicate jewels.  I looked at the casino and found myself 
being drawn irresistibly drawn to it. 

“What is that place?” I pointed to the hotel, unable to hide the
curiosity and strange longing from my voice. 

“That's Mirage of the Desert,” Bailey spoke with distaste, “It's the
reason why Main Street sprung up and I personally think it's the cause 
of all the crime going on around here.  I can't prove anything so I 
can't file an official complaint and I think it would be useless 
anyways.  I'm pretty sure they're paying off the cops.” 

“I must go there, I can feel it,” I took a step towards it and felt
Bailey's hand upon my arm, “You're welcome to come or not, but I must 
go.”  Bailey followed me, dragging her feet across the dirt as if it 
would slow us down.  Although as an angel, I had an unlimited amount of 
patience, I was mortal and it was difficult to not urge her to move 
faster. 

Suddenly a well dressed man in a suit with his hair slicked back
approached us, “Are you Shauna?”  Bailey and I looked at each other and 
then I nodded so he continued, “Well, your room is ready.” 

“Room?” I didn't mean to sound so confused but I couldn't help it, I had
no clue what this gentleman was talking about. 

“Yes, at the Mirage of the Desert.  You have one of our finest suites
for as long as you need use of it,” he explained and again we looked at 
each other. I shrugged my shoulders, the angels must have understood 
where I would want to start my work and had arranged for a little 
“miracle” to occur.  That was my theory for the moment but even to 
myself, it didn't ring true. 

“Well, thank you, we would like to see it right away,” I smiled and saw
the man's expression change from one of complete compliance to lust and 
then back again.  It gave me the chills and I decided right away that 
though he was dressed in fine clothes, he was far from a fine man.  
There was darkness in him and if he had the opportunity, he would share 
it with me. 

He nodded and we followed him through the throngs of people until we
stood before the mighty casino and hotel.  It was about sixty stories 
high and had spiraling pillars that lit up with constantly changing 
neons.  It was a beautiful piece of architecture but it looked out of 
place in its landscape.  It would have been at home on The Strip in Las 
Vegas but it looked almost obscene in the desert.  The lobby had a huge 
fountain of women dancing nude among cactus and it made me think 
uncomfortably of my earlier journey. 

“I take it this is your first time here, what do you think?” the man
asked and I turned in a circle taking it in.  There was a vaulted 
ceiling with multiple carved chandeliers glittering like jewels and 
beautiful statues adorning the walls.  There was marble tile beneath 
our feet and the attendants were dressed smartly in black slacks and 
vests. 

“It's lovely,” I sighed but it wasn't all in pleasure.  Beneath the
beauty, something more powerful thrummed.  This place wasn't 
necessarily evil but it certainly housed something that was.  Bailey 
shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, she'd kept herself 
isolated from people for so long that being in this situation made her 
feel awkward.   I didn't want to put her out anymore than necessary as 
she had been so kind to me. 

“Can we go to my room?” I asked and the man gave me a card key. 

“You're in Suite 6031, do enjoy and if you need anything, and I do mean
anything, feel free to call me.  My name's Godfrey,” he smiled 
shark-like and I had to summon a great deal of will power not to 
visibly recoil from him.  He made my stomach clench and I wished that I 
was wearing a parka. 

“Thank you,” I forced another smile and then dragged Bailey behind me to
the nearest elevator. 

“So you angels get to live in splendor to find out what it feels like to
be human?” she wanted to know as soon as the doors slid shut behind us. 
 She had merely voiced what I was wondering and so I wasn't entirely 
caught off guard. 

“Actually, I don't know.  Most of the angels that come back from this
experience choose not to talk about it.  It's like it was such a 
horrible time that they're afraid to share it and discourage the rest 
of us.  And I know not everyone has lived in splendor.  Look at Mother 
Teresa,” I replied, wrinkling my forehead with concentration.  I was 
trying to remember if I had ever heard anything like this from any the 
angels but it was true.  No one spoke about this venture and in Heaven, 
if you didn't want to be pressed about past experiences, you were not. 

“Mother Teresa? But she was here for much longer than one year and
wasn't she born here, not just magically transcended?” Bailey asked. 

“Some angels choose that route.  When they come back up to join the High
Order, if they have done an amazing amount of good in their short time, 
they have the option of giving up their angelhood to join mankind and 
work from within.  Mother Teresa was one such angel,” I explained, not 
really understanding the appeal myself.  Being human had so far only 
encouraged my thoughts that wings were a plus and not feeling pain was 
even better. 

“So, if they choose that option, they may not go back to Heaven?” she
sounded confused and I couldn't blame her.  Though I didn't yet feel 
the need to tell her that I might not make it back to Heaven if I 
couldn't live up to my obligations. 

“No, they may come back to Heaven but as one of the souls that seeks
haven there.  When you die, you will not become an angel.  Angels do 
not come from mortal beings, they are spirits of God that just one day 
come to be.  That is why before we join the High Order, we must come 
experience what it is like to be mortal.  That way we can understand 
what you humans must go through and be able to better help your 
plights,” I absently explained for at the moment, I was thinking 
intensely about the whole “angel” thing.  I'd never really thought 
about it before, but where did Angels come from?  I'd been one from day 
one and had never really known different so it had never been a thought 
that had crossed my mind.  Unlike humans, Angels were not known for 
dying ever, but did that mean that they didn't cease to exist? 

“Oh,” Bailey sounded disappointed and brought me back to the elevator,
“So, it doesn't matter how good we are, we're never going to be 
Angels?” 

“You make it sound as if being Angels is the whole goal of heaven;
Angels are not exactly what your religions have made them out to be.  I 
don't really want to explain all of the hierarchy though, I'm not even 
sure I'm supposed to,” I suddenly realized and was grateful when the 
elevator gave a ding that said they were on their floor.  Humans didn't 
know about the hierarchy of Heaven and maybe there was a reason that I 
had yet to grasp so until I knew better, keeping silent was probably my 
best bet. 

Floor sixty was beautiful.  The hallway was real wood floors with thick
plush carpet lining the walkway.  It had elegant floral wallpaper and 
although it was all definitely new and sterile, there was an old 
fashioned beauty to everything.  I opened the door to my room and 
gasped, it was huge.  Not only was it big enough to house a small town 
but it was just as stunning as the rest of the hotel. 

“This is bigger than my whole house,” Bailey blurted and then covered
her mouth and giggled.  I couldn't argue.  There was a living room 
complete with couch and television and a promise of all the porn they 
could watch.  The kitchen and dining room were even separate so that I 
could have formal dinner parties if I so chose and I couldn't help but 
fall in love with the bathroom.  There was a great big Jacuzzi tub that 
begged for me to come soak me weary body in it's' depths.  It was hard 
to think about anything other than that tub but I couldn't attack it 
quite yet with Bailey still there. 

“Damn, and there's no way I can become an angel?” Bailey inquired from
the bedroom where she was admiring the plush king sized bed and the 
view. 

“I'm not sure all angels get this treatment,” I replied and sat down on
the couch.  I was actually very bewildered by the whole “suite” thing.  
Angels and Heaven in general tended to encourage humble living and the 
suite didn't fit into that ideology.  I had actually thought that 
Gwendyth had placed me near Bailey's on purpose for Bailey's small home 
was definitely right up that philosophy's alley. 

If the angels had not put together the “miracle” for me, who else had
possibly known of my coming?  I hadn't even known when or where I was 
coming until today. Something about that fact nagged at the back of my 
mind, sending chills fanning out through my body.  It was uncomfortable 
to think that someone besides the Heavenly host had known about my 
coming and had set up “care” for me. 

As if sensing my confusion, there was a knock at the door and I rose to
answer it. 

“Can I help you?” I asked when I opened the door to a short wiry looking
hotel attendant.  The kid couldn't have been any older than twenty and 
had already thinning straw colored hair on the top of his head. 

“Miss Shauna, I was instructed to deliver this upon your arrival.  It's
from your benefactor,” he winked, suggesting that my benefactor was 
nothing more than a sugar daddy.  If  I hadn't been so bewildered by 
everything, I might have taken offense to his innuendo but instead, I 
could only focus on he had seen whoever had known about me. 

“My benefactor?  What did he or she look like?  Did they leave a name?
An explanation?” I wanted to know, taking the envelope from him that he 
held in a bizarrely large hand. 

My questions threw the kid for a loop and he stammered for a moment
before replying, “I'm sorry m'am but this job pays me to not remember 
what anyone looks like.” 

“Really?  You can't remember if it was a male or female, stunning or
ugly, tall or skinny?  Nothing?” he shook his head and I cocked my head 
at him, “And would you remember me?” 

He hesitated for a moment and I could see him trying to decide what the
most beneficial answer would be, “No m'am.  I would not remember you.”  
He was lying. 

“Uh huh, it's a wonder you can keep your job with your poor lying
skills.  Go back to doing whatever you do since it's obviously less 
than helpful but better than standing here,” I shut the door in his 
face, ignoring how rude it was for an angel turned mortal to dismiss 
someone.  This human body definitely inspired some mood tendencies in 
me that I'd never experienced before. 

“What's in the envelope?” Bailey wanted to know. 

“That's what we're about to find out,” I opened it and pulled out a
letter and a bank card.  I read, “Dear Shauna, 

No doubt you are wondering what you are doing in such a splendid hotel
or why an angel would be set up in such grandeur.  The reason is 
simple; you will be able to do the most good for this world from this 
location.  I cannot tell you who I am except for simply this, I am your 
creator and as such, I strive to see you succeed.  Most angels are 
required to get a job for income so that they may survive their term as 
a mortal, you are exempt.  I have procured for you a large sum of money 
that is located at the WestTown bank.  Do not worry about using it up 
or not, it is unlimited and I wish for you to live in the utmost 
comfort.  Please, purchase clothes, ditch your holy gown for a more 
fitting dress and purchase shoes.  Your feet should not be left in 
ribbons.  Do your best to provide Heaven on earth and do not be afraid 
of failure, you are unlike any fellow Angels before you.” 

“Your creator?  So God wrote this to you?” my companion wanted to know. 
Her question gave me pause, I wasn't sure of anything right now but 
this seemed just a tad too strange for God to have a hand in.  But if 
not God, who?  And more importantly, why? 

“I... I don't think so, when I've spoken with God, he's never sounded
like this.  And although he claims many things, he's never claimed to 
make us,” I replied. 

“God didn't make Angels?  So, who or what did?” now Bailey sounded
completely bewildered and I wasn't far behind her.  It had never really 
been a concern of mine as Angels just came to be and they didn't exist 
to question their creation.  Angels had missions to carry out, fellow 
creations to aid, and they didn't have the time to wonder about such 
trivial matters, until now. 

“I don't know who or what and for all we know, it is God, but it just
doesn't seem like his kind of encouragement.  He doesn't favor one 
angel over another, doesn't approve of indulgence... no, he teaches 
that suffering human hardships is how we can relate to the race once we 
reach the high order.  It doesn't make sense that he would go out of 
his way to ease that suffering,” I couldn't deny the confusion I felt 
over everything. 

“You know, this whole thing is turning my world upside down.  I mean, I
don't even believe in angels and now I'm wondering if God was their 
creator or not.  I haven't had this much excitement in years and I feel 
so overwhelmed,” Bailey's face was perplexed and yet she had a wild 
look to her eyes that made me suspect that her typewriter was calling 
her name. 

“You're welcome to go back home, to sort out your thoughts,” I offered,
giving my friend an excuse to leave that hopefully wouldn't allow her 
to feel guilty.  I could sense the frustration radiating from her over 
writer's block and I wasn't going to stand in her way if I had somehow 
helped her to break through it. 

She paused for only a moment before nodding enthusiastically, “Sorting
out my thoughts, what a great idea.  I could use some time to myself to 
try to understand this, um, interesting situation.”  Bailey left her 
contact information and promised me that she would be back to check up 
on me but she was practically itching to get away to write.  It made me 
feel good because I knew that writing was medicine for Bailey's pain 
and that she'd had far too long of a time without her daily dose. 

With Bailey out of the extravagant hotel suite, I had more of an
opportunity to try to figure out who had decided to take care of me but 
try as she might, I couldn't even begin to pinpoint my mysterious 
benefactor.  Even on his most lenient of days, I didn't see God causing 
such a grand miracle to pass my way but if it wasn't God, who else had 
known about my arrival?  Who else would care that I needed a place to 
stay? 

I decided that a nice soak in the Jacuzzi tub might help ease my mind
and I settled into the bubbling hot water with a sigh that was half 
between relief and at the initial tingling from the heat hitting my 
sore skin.  When I got back out, I looked at my gown that was torn and 
filthy with dismay.  I was clean and pretty smelling, I didn't want to 
get back in the rag but until I went shopping, I didn't have a choice.  
It felt hideous against my flesh and I swear, I could feel the dirt 
attaching to me again and so despite having calmed down a bit, I was 
almost instantly frustrated once more.  So, to soothe my nerves, I 
decided there was nothing better for an Angel than to go accomplish a 
good deed or two. 

I strolled out of the hotel with relative ease and found myself back on
the street.  The day was hot and sunny, beautiful by many standards, 
and I took a deep sigh of the air.  The smells that rolled over me made 
me choke and I stepped back, trying to clear my head.  The air 
definitely did not have the sweet aroma of Heaven, where it was as if 
everything beautiful in the world had been accumulated into one 
intoxicating scent. 

“A whole year,” I mumbled to myself and closed my eyes, tuning in my
senses to find anyone in need of help.  Almost immediately I picked up 
on wild fear and dark hunger radiating strongly from somewhere behind a 
cute bakery called “Beauty of the Desert Pies”.  Carefully dodging 
gawking tourists and aggressive salesman pushing their wares, I walked 
steadily behind the café.  There was another alley that twisted behind 
a somewhat rundown apartment that was only two stories high and had 
beautiful but rusted out curling metal vines as the bars for the 
balconies. I made my way down that and found myself in a dead end where 
a young woman no older than nineteen was cowered in a corner, waving 
one hand in front of her as if it would ward off her attackers.  The 
two men converging on her were not much older but there was 
unmistakable lust in their dark eyes.  One had spiked black hair and 
wore pants so dirty that it was a miracle that they hadn't crawled off 
to die in a corner on their own accord.  The other man wore his dark 
brown hair in a tangled ponytail and despite it being a hot day, wore a 
jacket. 

All too aware that this young woman was facing a fate worse than death,
I knew that I didn't have time to get any help.  Not even thinking 
about my own safety, I ran in between the men and the young woman, 
blocking her from their view.  “Be gone, go find some other way to 
amuse yourself,” I urged, feeling the girl creeping out from behind me 
and darting away behind the distracted men.  I was glad that she had 
escaped but I hoped that she had enough sense to get someone's help for 
these two hooligans were not going to be deterred by another woman. 

“Oh, I think we just did,” the pony tail laughed and elbowed his friend
who chuckled lowly in agreement.  They took a step towards me and I 
suddenly realized how stupid I had been in my rescue.  My expression of 
confidence wavered a bit and I put a hand behind me, feeling the wall 
that blocked any escape.  The girl was unharmed but unless something 
radical happened, I was about to find out just how fragile my human 
body was. 

Then I cocked my head to the side, there was something coming down the
alley, something not quite human but not an angel.  My heart began to 
beat wildly because while the men in front of me threatened me 
physically, whatever was coming actually radiated evil.  Ignoring my 
two would be attackers; I turned around and scanned the area for 
something I could use to defend myself.  There was nothing for even 
being in a somewhat rundown area, they apparently liked to keep the 
city clean. 

“Yeah baby, we like it from behind too,” one of them chortled and I
turned around, glaring at them both. 

“You are no longer my concern, there is a bigger threat coming,” I
hissed and they looked at each other, wondering what could possibly be 
a bigger threat than what they were offering.  Then He turned the 
corner. I suddenly forgot everything in light of him and I felt my 
breath catch in my chest. 

The creature, man, whatever he was had shiny black hair with red streaks
that was cut straight and just above his ears.  The texture was 
beautiful and I found myself wanting to run my hands through it and see 
if it felt like silk.  His skin was tan from time spent in the desert 
and his features were chiseled as if carved from stone.  He wore a 
tight black shirt that defined every muscle even at a distance and 
black “trick” pants with red accents and chains dangling from every 
angle.  His eyebrow was pierced and he had two hoops hanging off the 
right of his bottom lip.  What I could see of his strong arms was laced 
with dark, powerful looking tattoos and I stood frozen at the sight of 
him.  He was like nothing I had ever seen before and even though he was 
beautiful and strange to look at, it was his eyes that held me pinned 
in place.  His irises were as black as the darkest night and they were 
glued to me face as if he had just found his temple of worship. 

“Leave her alone,” he whispered his voice deep and stroking strings in
my body that I'd never felt touched before.  The two men didn't look at 
him but suddenly turned and left the alley, moving around the young man 
unconsciously as if they didn't see him but somehow knew he was there. 
I shook myself, breaking the spell he had cast, and asked breathlessly, 
“What are you?”  The man shook himself too and raised his right hand, 
which had a spiked bracelet around the wrist, and ran a hand through 
his hair. 

“I could ask the same of you but I don't have time for this,” he
abruptly turned and stalked out of the alley.  I was frantic to catch 
him, to hear his voice again, to see his eyes staring at me with 
secrets that I wanted desperately to unlock, but as I rounded the 
corner, I found to my dismay that he was gone. 

“No,” I cried out softly to myself, scanning the crowd, looking for the
shiny black and red hair but he was nowhere to be seen.  I leaned 
against the wall of the little bakery, trying to calm my pounding heart 
and focus on what I had witnessed.  The two men had responded to him 
but as if his commands had been spoken within them and not to them; I 
had felt his presence, powerful and dark, coming to my aid; his eyes 
were so dark that I was sure black would pale besides them; he had 
disappeared without a trace; and most interesting to me was that he had 
seemed just as entranced and confused by me as I was by him. 

“What are you?” I whispered and cast one more desperate scan over the
crowd but I knew he wasn't there, I couldn't feel him.  I thought about 
trying to continue my good deed hunt for the day but I was so 
distracted by the young man that every time I closed my eyes, I saw his 
image plastered against my lids.  Feeling surprisingly human, I made a 
choice to do what most human women found soothing when they were 
frustrated by a man, I decided to go shopping. 

Using the money from my mysterious benefactor, I began hitting up
boutique after boutique, investing in all sorts of unique outfits and 
accessories to wear during my time as a human.  Even though I couldn't 
deny that I was having a blast, the entire time, I still kept an eye 
out for the young man.  By the end of the day, I was exhausted and 
still frustrated at having found no sign of him. 

I made her way to the hotel and was irritated to find Godfrey waiting
for me, ready to carry up my bags. 

“I'm really fine,” I insisted, clinging to my armload of bags and he
looked so disappointed that he almost looked pleasant, almost but not 
quite. 

“I've been instructed to see to your every comfort, please allow me to
do so,” he begged but I could sense that he was simply looking for an 
excuse to come up to my room, perhaps try to seduce me or worse, take 
me by force. 

I shook my head violently, “I'm really fine, thank you though.  There
are other clients here, you should see to their needs.”  He looked 
around as if to point out that there was no one else at the moment as 
important as I was to him but I took advantage of his momentary 
distraction and bolted for the elevator.  Apparently that was enough to 
convince him that I was good for he let me go but I could feel his eyes 
glued to me.  If I was sure of anything, it was that I wanted as little 
to do with Godfrey as possible. 


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