The Angriest Angel

Chapter 37

Chase expected that after he relayed the story they would relax—maybe even warm up to him, but it was quite the opposite.

They turned on him as if it were his fault that Avery was shot, and to Chase's dismay they had some good points.  It was twice that the bearded man took shots at him, once shooting up Avery's house, and the second time shooting Avery.  It seemed that the baggage he carried from his past had now brought collateral damage to their world.

It had been almost two hours of relaying the story and debating right and wrong.  Avery had long since fallen back asleep on the family room couch, causing the three of them to move the conversation into the kitchen, trying their best to keep their voices down.  Cadence had started the fireplace near Avery, warming the room and creating a comforting environment for her to rest.

Nathan asked Chase very specific, pointed questions about the scene in the garage, his brow furrowing in thought as he digested the details.  Chase hadn't even gotten to the part where he healed Avery yet.  Nathan was fixated on understanding more about the assailant; perhaps expecting Chase to know every enemy that he had.

"Look, I have no idea who this guy with the blond beard is," Chase said.  "Chambers didn't know him either.  For all I know, he could be one of you."

Cadence looked at him, "What do you mean, 'one of us?'"

Nathan looked at Cadence and said, "He knows.  Avery had to tell him when he used the emaculo drum."

"Silentium clamore.  Quam multa sciat?" she said.

"Ego non modo."

"Oh man," Chase groaned.  "Please don't talk in your secret language.  That'll make me mental."

"He's not one of us," Nathan told him.

"How do you know that?"

"Because, we are not murderers.  We are not capable of killing."

"Uh huh," Chase said skeptically.

"It's true," Cadence said.  "We are only ever peaceful."

Chase nodded, "I'm sure.  That is, unless you are trying to frame a man and have him sent to a psychiatric hospital because he saw one of your spaceships.  But hey, who am I to question a race of intergalactic supermodels."

Nathan sighed shamefully.  He looked as though he was not proud of the incident with Pete McClouth.  Cadence seemed less sure of herself, eyeing Chase somewhat cautiously.

"Can you at least tell me why you are following me around?"  Chase asked.

Nathan shook his head, "it's a little difficult to explain to a—" he stopped himself.

"Primitive?" Chase finished the sentence for him. 

"That's not what I was going to say."

"No, it's okay, I accept that.  Props for the space travel.  We're still trying to figure out how to make a leak proof oil tanker.  How the hell are we gonna build a spaceship?  We're light years away from that crap."

Cadence smiled at his joke and said, "A light year is a unit of distance, not of time."

"Whatever."

"I didn't mean any disrespect," Nathan said.  "Only that there are many facets to the problem."

"No, hey, it's fine.  So we're a little behind," Chase shrugged.  "Maybe we can't build a spaceship, but we make a damn good pretzel."

Cadence laughed.  Her laughter was bubbly and unexpected, and also loud enough to wake Avery.  She stirred in the other room and called out for Chase.