Only Human: Angels and Demons

Chapter 81: June Jackson

I hugged the soft pillow into my stomach while I stared at the ceiling. My head was so much lighter after Mary's haircut, and I enjoyed the silence and lack of eyes in my room. I was wearing familiar jeans and a maroon frilled blouse. Of course, the jeans were designer, but I pretended they were my typical clearance rack jeans. For a moment it felt like I was back in my bedroom at home worrying about student loans and whether or not I would be going to graduate school. I glanced over at a blank wall. This room needed a television, then I could watch some fantastical heroine facing impossible odds that wasn't me.

There was a knock on my door and I groaned. "Come in."

The door creaked open and through my peripheral vision I could see Hendrix entering the room. "Just checking how you were holding up." He paused as he saw me laying on the bed with my arms strangling an innocent pillow. I was back to staring at the ceiling. "Not well, I can assume." He added.

I sighed. "I'll be fine. Just... Just give me some time."

Hendrix sat on the bed beside me. "Want to talk about it?" he asked.

I finally turned my attention off the ceiling and leveled my gaze on him. "Why are you acting this way?" I asked.

"What way?"

"This. All worried and concerned. It's gross. Stop it." I said looking back to the ceiling.

"So, you think someone worrying about you is gross?" Hendrix asked with an amused smirk.

"Not someone, but you. You used to be my tormentor, so can't you act a bit more—I don't know—tormenty." I was tired of this whiplash. I couldn't tell who the real Hendrix was anymore. Was he the arrogant, self-centered, and sadistic prick I once knew he was, or was he this capable, compassionate, and attentive patron. Could respect change someone so much?

"Did you want to be tormented?" The tone in his voice was husky and suggestive.

I sat up surprised. I noticed the red ringing his blue eyes. He was hungry. He never got the chance to feed from me before Cenderion attacked.

"If you must know, I'm coming to terms with this great destiny that's been laid out in front of me. Happy?" I asked.

"It'll work out." Hendrix said.

"How? How exactly is it going to work out?" I asked.

"Well, I'm not sure." Hendrix paused in thought. "Are you sure you don't want to go with the angels in Alturess? They would have a better idea than me."

I plopped back down on the bed and resumed staring at the ceiling. "Yes. I don't know them and they don't know me. You're assuming that they even want this messed up angel. They might find my very existence sacrilege."

"But you heard the Angel's Heart. You're the only being capable of actually purifying and eradicating the demonic forces. They'd be idiots to not want that."

"Sure, they use me like an angelic Mr. Clean then kill me or imprison me once the job is done. Sounds great." The sarcasm in my voice was thick and suffocating.

"You don't know that—" Hendrix started.

"And you don't know if they wouldn't! I'm not going to blindly hand myself over to them." I tore my attention once again from the ceiling to Hendrix.

"But the continent needs you—the world needs you." He said carefully.

I sat up again and threw my legs to dangle over the side. "I know! You don't think I get that?! A world overrun by evil and conniving demons where the angels stand as the last defense. I've read it before. I've seen it in so many movies, television shows, and mangas. I'm the freaking McGuffin! It's so cliché it hurts." I sighed holding the pillow tight in my lap.