The Guardian

Chapter 7

I came to on the bed in the spare room. At first, completely confused as to when and where I was. Sunlight was streaming in through the sheer curtains and all was quiet.

Then I remembered. It hit hard, but not as hard as the first time I woke up in this bed. Funny how fast one adapts to circumstances and change.

Coffee wafted through the door, and I wondered who carried me up the stairs and put me to bed, as they would have to have been strong to haul me and my wings down the corridor to the guest bedroom.

My stomach grumbled at me, and I stood up on shaky legs, nausea and dizziness almost overwhelming me.

Father Matthew entered just as I fell back on the bed.

"Easy there,'' he said, moving quickly, depositing the coffee on the bedside table, and helping me back up.

"H-how are you feeling? "He asked casually, not meeting my eyes.

I thought about it, and I did feel a bit better. The dizziness was rapidly dissolving and I felt almost normal again.

What was really bothering me was the fact that he was avoiding my eyes.

"I'm fine. Angelic healing really works fast. "

He nodded. Still avoiding eye contact.

"What happened after I conked out last night?"

"You...You spoke to Maggie, but it wasn't you... I –I think it was God... and your entire face changed, became beautiful, you shone with an inner light that was almost .... Too bright. "

He stood up, paced around. "Your wings changed too, and your eyes... your eyes aren't green anymore..."

I could remember everything about last night, my voice, changed until it was no longer mine. Those words coming from my lips, but not my mind. And then darkness. But my eyes... the only thing that was mine from my former life, passed on to me from my dearly missed mother...

I rushed to the mirror, and sure enough, golden eyes looked back at me, catching the light and throwing rings of green and red onto the ceiling and wall. Staggered back, and my uniform materialised, responding to my unstable emotions.

My wings weren't stormy grey anymore, it was whiter, like a cloud at the first hint of a storm.

Wordlessly, I stared at Father Matthew, and he shifted around uncomfortably, not knowing what to say.

Taking a deep breath, I focused on something more in the now. This could wait until I spoke to Gabriel again.

I started chuckling. The question of cleaning my uniform is answered, at least. I was too busy to notice last night – err, this morning – but it was spotless now.

I looked at the Father, who was gaping at me like I lost a few marbles, just shook my head, and enquired after Maggie.

"She's sleeping in my room. I took the couch. She was exhausted last night, especially after... you... took leave of us. "

"I'm sorry. I-it just happened. I'll ask Gabriel for more details about how it happened. Or why..." As soon as I said that, I felt stupid.

"I mean, I know why it happened. Just... I'll ask him."

Father Matthew started laughing. Bordering hysterical.

Not seeing the funny, I stared at him, wondering if I'd pushed him over the edge in some way, or something.

Noticing my stare, he quickly stopped laughing, blushed, and coughed a few times.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh. It's just the... ludicrous nature of the situation. And the fact that you basically have an Archangel on some angelic version of speed dial."