Chapter 6 - Design of an Angel

I laughed out loud for the second time that day. A record for me. At first, I thought Thomas was going to join in on the fun.

He didn't.

In fact, the look on his face was even more dead serious than before. I had to wipe the tears out of my eyes from laughing so hard before I could speak. Even then, I still had difficulty.

“You've gotta be kidding me.” When he didn't respond, I asked the impossible. “You don't actually expect me to believe you're an angel, do you?” I had a hard time saying that with a straight face.

He nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“You're even more delusional than I thought!” I broke out laughing again until my sides started to hurt. Three times in one day...a new record.

After finally catching my breath, I had one more thing I needed to do.

Get rid of him. But how?

I suddenly realized two reasons why I liked the song I'd just played so much. First, because I was really good at it. Second, because it seemed to irritate the crap out of him, which made me very, very happy.

Lifting the violin to my chin again with the bow poised determinedly over the strings, I pointed it at him like a loaded weapon. “If you don't leave me the hell alone, I'm going to play you an extended re-mix of your favorite song. And, this time, I'm only going to play the Devil's portion.” When he didn't move, I dragged the bow across the strings with reckless abandon. “This is your last chance to get out, or so help me...”

It only took playing the first few notes before Thomas raised both hands to surrender without saying a word. He didn't have to. The furious look on his face said it all.

I grinned to myself. “I knew you'd see it my way.”

Violin aimed with my target in the cross hairs, fingers ready in case he decided to make any sudden movements I pressed forward, forcing him to retreat.

When his back reached the door he exhaled deeply, “Fine, I'll go.”

Point for me. I smiled in victory.

Ever so slowly he turned around, never taking his eyes off me. Just when I thought he was going to thrust open the barn doors, he stopped. “If I leave now you'll never understand why Andrew tried to kill you. Or the reason why your life was spared.”

I sucked in my breath. Point for him. My victory was short lived.

“Can I put my hands down now?” Thomas asked gingerly.

Nodding, I clutched my instrument to my chest like a safety blanket.

“Chaos, I really am an angel.”

“Yeah, I got that part. What do you mean my life was spared?”

“It might help you understand better if I start from the beginning.”

“Ya think?”

Choosing to ignore my snide comment, he said, “Why don't we sit down.”

He motioned to one corner of a stall with two opened bales of hay that I lounged on like giant bean bag chairs whenever I wanted to decompress. I placed the violin and bow carefully back in their case and shuffled over to the haystacks, allowing myself to simply fall backwards. It was the best, if not only way, because you don't actually sit on hay so much as you lie in it. That's my preference anyway.

Thomas seemed unsure of how to plant himself on his stack, but somehow managed to fold his lofty height into a relatively seated position.

“So, you were saying?” I urged. In the small confines of the space a myriad of scents assaulted my keen sense of smell. The earthiness of newly stacked hay combined with the rich scent of his leather jacket, and something else. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on. The aroma was so unexpected, so appealing, and so utterly...intoxicating.

And then it hit me.

The unmistakable scent of sweet vanilla. Tormenting myself with his nearness, I breathed in as the comforting scent of him embraced me, wrapping around me like an invisible cloak of his very essence. Even when Thomas clasped his hands together and began to speak, all I could think about was why does a supposed angel smell like vanilla?

“I'm called an Angel of Light. Currently I travel between Heaven and Earth, escorting souls to the afterlife. Prior to that I was a Guardian from the Realm of Angels,” he began in a tone so deep and resonant, filled with such mournful suffering as if his mere words alone had the power to pierce my very soul like an arrow. “As I started to tell you earlier, Andrew was sent by Angels of Darkness to recruit you.” The serious look in his eyes robbed me of speech. All I managed to do was stare and wait for him to continue. “This war the fallen angels are raging goes back to the very beginning when the Devil led a revolt. After challenging God's authority he was cast out of Heaven, along with those loyal to him. So many angels started to follow him that God finally had to intervene and closed the gates of Heaven. For their defiance the remaining angels, unable to escape God's wrath, were imprisoned in the Realm of Angels. God then enlisted the help of his most trusted and faithful angel to watch over them as Guardian. Peace existed for centuries until the imprisoned angels, tired of being controlled, rose up and tried to overthrow the Guardian. For their disobedience the angels were then banished to earth forever.”

I swallowed hard. I never doubted God's existence, but listening to Thomas really put things in perspective. As I continued to study his eyes, I wasn't sure if I truly believed him or not. Not just because the impossible sounding story he was trying to sell me didn't seem real, but also because he didn't seem real. Maybe he wasn't really human after all. Besides, no regular guy could have such fierce eyes, so pale and luminous, so ageless. So haunting.

A knowing smile spread across his face as if he'd just read my mind. His tall muscular body and confident demeanor were the things that initially drew me to him. It wasn't hard to recognize that even underneath the tough guy exterior was a man of integrity with a heart of gold.

Shit. He really was an angel.

“Is that why you got so mad when I played you that song?” I asked regretfully. The fact that the lyrics had been about the Devil trying to steal someone's soul took on a fresh, new meaning for me.

Thomas let out a soft, shuddering sigh. “Yes. It's never a good idea to associate yourself with anything that glamorizes the Devil. Or his intentions to deceive people.”

I made a mental note.

“Okay, so what happens now?” I asked, more than a little curious. “That can't be the end of your story. What do the Angels of Darkness want with me?” My thoughts returned to Andrew and I knew deep down inside that there had to be some kind of connection.

“Chaos, it's worse than anything you can imagine.”

I seriously doubted that. What I'd already seen had been pretty damn nasty. How could what he was about to say possibly be any worse? Instead of arguing my point I waited for him to continue.

“Although Angels of Darkness are truly fallen angels, I prefer not to refer to them as such. I simply call them the Dark Ones.”

“O-kay." Correcting myself, I said, “What do the Dark Ones want?”

“Revenge,” he replied, voice ominous. "They're jealous of the favor God shows His favorite creation."

Maybe it was just an oversight, but Thomas had somehow neglected to mention the part about Andrew, the killer corpse.

Curious, I had to ask, although I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to know the answer. “What happened to Andrew? Uh...I mean, how did he get that way?” Just the thought of him all creeped out and dead sent shivers racing up and down my spine.

“I'm afraid I don't have an answer for that.” Thomas paused as if deep in thought. “It appears that Andrew was simply carrying out orders. Somehow his humanity had been stripped away. All that's left of him were characteristics of your Hollywood movie monsters.”

I considered the possibility for a moment and realized I'd never seen anything in a movie quite as terrifying as Andrew. The only difference was Andrew was real. “What kind of monster was he? He looked like a zombie.”

“Well, first of all, there's no such thing as zombies. Second of all, I'm not exactly sure,” Thomas admitted reluctantly. “From observing him I do know that he craved flesh like a zombie, but he wasn't a zombie. He lusted for blood like a vampire, but he wasn't a vampire. He grew claws and had razor sharp teeth like a wolf, but he wasn't a werewolf.”

Growing impatient, I huffed out my breath. “If Andrew wasn't any of those things, then what in the hell was he?”

Thomas shrugged. “A new breed of monster that has never existed before.”

I swallowed hard. “Are there more like him?”

He nodded. “Unfortunately, yes.”

I knew then the real meaning of fear. Forcing the words past dry lips I asked, “How many?”

Thomas frowned. “I honestly don't know. Andrew was but one in an endless army of the undead. Every time I destroy them more are made.”

“Made?” I choked. “How are they made?”

He turned away to stare unseeing into the shadows. “The Dark Ones are most likely poisoning humans with something that turns them into the creatures. Until I find out how, I have no way of stopping them.”

“What could they possibly want with a bunch of rotting corpses?”

Thomas slid a furtive glance in my direction. “The Dark Ones have gone underground to elude capture. Now they're using humans as minions to recruit their offspring.”

I blinked rapidly in surprise. “What do you mean...offspring?” The word died in my throat.

His gaze locked on mine. “The Dark Ones were banished from the Realm of Angels almost exactly sixteen Earth years ago. Seems like only yesterday to me.” He shook his head as if to erase an unpleasant memory. “After falling they implemented a breeding program. In order to achieve the desired results, the Dark Ones selected only adult females with rare but powerful God-given gifts such as pyrokinesis – the ability to create fire with the mind, and telekinesis – the power to move objects with the mind. Even the ability of accelerated healing and empathic abilities like sensitivity to touch and smell were not overlooked as potential weapons of war.

“Some offspring have the power to control the minds of others, some can use telepathy to communicate without speaking, and some can even summon the spirits of the dead. Others can perform illusions with their mind and are also masters of black magic. The list of these special abilities is long and complicated, not to mention the fact that the nature of the offspring's power varies greatly depending on both parents. Because the offspring are half-human, half-angel, they are also naturally stronger – physically and mentally – as well as faster than ordinary humans.” He paused to shake his head. “There's no denying the fact that the offspring will become a formidable force once they are fully mature and understand how to use their incredible powers. Until that time, they possess the distinct ability to live among you, camouflaged by their seemingly “normal” appearance. But, make no mistake about it, they are Angels of War, and the only reason they exist at all is to destroy mankind.” Thomas stopped abruptly to gaze deep into my eyes. It was almost as if he wanted to peer into my soul before uttering one final warning. “Chaos, I cannot stress enough how much they need to be stopped.”

I looked at him confused. “I don't get it. If the offspring are really the children of these Dark Ones, then why do they have to be recruited? Wouldn't they know what they really are?”

“Not necessarily,” Thomas began. “Yes, on one hand there are some that know they are different and possess a natural compulsion to seek out darkness. However, there are others that have absolutely no idea who or what they truly are. I suspect that the mothers themselves were deceived and that even they weren't aware that the father of their children were, in fact, Angels of Darkness. The offspring also need to be recruited because they were born with the same promises given to all humans by God.”

Finally! Something I understood.

I perked up. “You mean like Freedom of Speech?”

Thomas laughed. “No, that would be the Constitution of the United States – man's law. I'm talking about God's law But more specifically, the promises He made to His children concerning free will. All of the offspring were born with a soul, therefore, they alone must decide if it's worth sacrificing in order to align themselves with the power of darkness.”

I had a thought. “You said the Dark Ones were banished sixteen years ago?”

He nodded, face grim. “Yes. Almost exactly sixteen years and nine months ago.”

I didn't mention that my birthday was in three days, or that I was about to turn sixteen. It had to be some kind of coincidence. 

“Why is sixteen so significant?” I asked in a shaky voice. Swallowing hard, I had to force myself to breath normally before continuing. “Why not recruit them last year, or when they were first born?”

“Basically, there are two reasons,” Thomas began, taking extra time as if trying to choose his words very carefully. “First, the Dark Ones wanted to wait until the offspring were at the height of their rebellion. It was thought that as adolescents it would be easier to convince them to give up their souls. And second, the stress of having both angelic and human blood triggers a metamorphoses that only remains dormant until they turn sixteen. The Dark Ones can't have a bunch of rowdy, inexperienced, highly powerful teenagers running loose and calling attention to themselves. To combat this, they decided to go ahead and recruit the offspring right before their sixteenth birthday in order to get them under ground to begin training. Assuming, of course, that the teenagers utilized their free will and gave up their souls first.”

My head was spinning with questions. I had to be missing something. “So why did Andrew show up at school looking for me again?”

The expression on Thomas' face softened. “Remember when I told you that he was trying to convince you to join his side of the rebellion?”

I nodded, but no words came out. Suddenly breathless, it felt like someone had just sucked all the oxygen from the barn. I didn't want to know the truth, didn't want to listen, but part of me needed to hear him say the words.

“Andrew was supposed to recruit you and bring you underground with all the others. When you resisted, you became a threat to the Dark Ones plans. They cannot afford to have you fall into the hands of their enemy, so Andrew was ordered to kill you if you disobeyed. I stopped him from carrying out his orders.”

“Why?” I choked. Not that I was complaining.

Thomas inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling. “Because you are the key to the whole thing.”

I frowned. “What do you mean, I'm the key?”

Lowering his voice, he said, “Chaos, you have no idea how important you are, or how dangerous.”

I leaned forward, recalling his first words to me. "You don't look dangerous."

“Let me test my understanding.” I paused to rub my temples. “You're telling me that my dad, whom I've never met by the way, is an Angel of Darkness.”

He nodded.

My eyes went wide. "So like, I'm supposedly the product of an inappropriate angel and human relationship?"

He nodded again.

“That's pretty messed up.” Shaking my head in disgust, I turned away to hide my shame as Beastie's command echoed eerily in my mind. "Come with me Daughter of Darkness."

Letting the truth of my true identity sink in, I mumbled, "I'm a monster. I'm one of the bad guys."

Thomas moved closer. Grasping my chin between his thumb and forefinger, he gently forced my head up to peer into my eyes. Still unable to actually feel his angel's touch, the mere thought made me go all tingly inside. 

“Chaos, you are not bad," he insisted. "You did not choose to be born, but you do have a choice."

Unable to reply I lurched out of his grasp, lowering my head again before he saw the single tear that slid down my cheek. Another first. I've never cried before. Like ever. It's not everyday you discover you're the monster hiding underneath your own bed.

“When I first saw you in person,” Thomas whispered, interrupting my little pity-party, “I could hardly believe my eyes. I mean, here was this unassuming girl I'd been warned so much about, and I thought to myself this waif of a human is supposedly more lethal than any other offspring ever born, yet she looks as gentle as a lamb. But then I reminded myself not to be fooled by appearances, because underneath that innocent disguise is a hungry wolf hiding in sheep's clothing.”

I sniffled and wiped my eyes. He was just trying to make me feel better. It was working better than he knew. So much so, in fact, that I finally raised my head and met his thoughtful gaze. The look he gave was pleading, not accusing. “What kind of monster am I?” My voice caught on a sob and broke, leaving me unable to ask, Do you even know?

Thomas chuckled to himself. “You are not a monster.” His eyes were so certain, so knowing, but what mattered most was that he didn't appear to be standing in judgment of me. As if reading my thoughts again, he finished by adding, “And yes, of course I know what you are.”

I closed my eyes and took in a long, deep breath letting it out slowly with an exaggerated sigh. Opening my eyes, I said, “Okay, I'm ready. What kind of mons...uh, I mean...what kind of creature am I?”

He tossed me a lopsided smile before responding. As a matter of fact, he did that a lot. It was cute, but unnerving as hell. For a second there, I even forgot what we were talking about.

Thomas cleared his throat, bringing me out of my daze. I snapped back to reality and, thankfully, his hypnotic smile was gone. I could finally concentrate. “Um, what did you say?”

He laughed. “I said that you are not a creature either.”

Relief swam through me. “That's good to know. So what am I...exactly?” I emphasized the last word, hoping beyond hope that he wasn't going to give me more sheep references. I wanted...no, scratch that...I needed details.

A paragon of coolness, Thomas regarded me evenly. When he spoke, his words were clear and precise, leaving very little to doubt. “You are human, but you also have the blood of an extremely powerful fallen angel coursing through your veins. Your father is the Angel of Destruction.” 

That sure explained a lot.

Taking my right arm, Thomas pushed back the sleeve of my flannel shirt to expose my forearm. I followed his gaze to the strange, raised marking that had always been on my skin since birth. Like a scar from a branding iron. Then he pushed back the sleeve of his leather jacket and showed me his forearm.

“Every angel bears a sign, or a mark called a sigil. The mark embodies not only the identity, but also the power of the angel.” He lifted up my arm again and traced the outline of the pattern with his index finger. “Your sigil tells me that you are the Angel of Fire.”

I blinked in surprise. In fact, I was so shocked you could've knocked me smack over with a feather. I've been called a lot of things in my life, but angel wasn't one of them.

“Angel of Fire,” I repeated in disbelief, touching the mark. “My mom always said it was a birthmark.” As I continued to stare at my arm, I could clearly make out the symbol for fire that only now made sense to me. The image reminded me of something else he'd said, so I asked, “What did you say about me being a key?”

He smiled again. Danger! Danger!

I made a point of concentrating on his remarkable hazel eyes. Eyes don't make me stupid.

"What I said was – you are the key to the Dark Ones plans. I didn't actually mean to call you a key.”

“Oh.” I gave him a hard look. I was still missing something. “How am I the key again?” Getting details out of him was like pulling teeth.

“Haven't you been paying attention?” he asked, perplexed.

I heaved a sigh. “Paying attention is overrated.”

“Chaos, focus. I need you to listen to me very carefully." I looked at him harder. "You, and only you, hold the key that either saves mankind, or destroys it.”

My eyes went wide. “That's pretty heavy for a fifteen-year-old.” Thomas nodded his head in agreement. “How would I destroy the world?” I asked. The question I was asking myself was more like...why would I even want to?

Thomas moved to kneel beside me. “By making the wrong choice and sacrificing your soul. If you choose to side with the Dark Ones, they will use your power to bring mankind to its knees. Their goal is simple. They intend to rid the world of humans.”

I felt suddenly tired, so tired. Not physically, more like mentally exhausted. Which is worse in my opinion. “Well, I'm not planning on destroying the planet any time soon." I paused to yawn. "So now what do you propose we do about it?” I asked, rubbing my eyes and growing impatient. I get scary cranky when I'm tired.

“Business as usual,” he said simply.

I rolled my eyes in full crank mode. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“I want you to go to school tomorrow and pretend like you never met me.”

That won't be hard.

“How's that going to help?” I muttered.

“The Dark Ones will send another one of their minions to recruit you.”

"Don't you mean, zombie?" When he didn't respond, I had no choice but to say, “Aaand...?” Somehow I knew I wasn't going to like the next part.

“And...I want you to be submissive for once in your angsty teenage life and go with the minion not zombie, so I can follow them to their lair. That's the only way I can defeat them.”

I hate when I'm right.

“Let me get this straight. You want to use me so you can find out where the Dark Ones' hiding place is?”

He didn't respond.

I repeated the question because I didn't think he'd heard me. This time...louder. “You want me to be zombie bait?”

"I thought I'd already explained it to you. They're not zombies."

"Whatever!"

He smiled, but not like he was happy. “And I heard you the first time, by the way. But I'm afraid I'm not  asking you, I'm telling you. You will do this for me, otherwise, I will never be able to stop the Dark Ones. I promise, you'll be perfectly safe," he added, almost as an after thought in case it might make me change my mind.

It didn't.

I gave a sharp laugh. “I thought you said you knew me.”

He nodded. “I do know you. Better than you think."

I narrowed my eyes. “Then you should already know my answer.”

“And what answer is that?” he replied, folding both arms over his wide chest.

“I never do anything I'm told. Just ask my mother.”