The Unheavenly Angel

Ch 6: The Morning After

I woke up the next morning with stiff and cramped muscles because of the position I'd slept in. The living room was dark, save for porch light's glow streaming in through the curtains. The smell of Mo's morning coffee came drifting in from the kitchen, helping to keep me awake.

I rubbed my neck as I sat up. Elliot was sitting in the old armchair next to the couch, his resting on its arm. His blonde hair was sticking out in all directions, evidence of a restless sleep. Had he come down overnight?

I moved to get up when I spotted something on the small table in front of the couch. It was Mo's Bible. A crashing wave of panic and alertness washed over me as I suddenly remembered what had happened last night.

I had been attacked by an angel.

An angel.

What had I done to deserve the wrath of Heaven? Sure, I wasn't devotedly religious, but I still went to church on Sundays and had a close friendship with a priest. It wasn't like I was the leader of a satanic cult or brewing the destruction to mankind in a cauldron upstairs.

Then I remembered what Isaiah had said. It was a "rogue angel." But that didn't make sense. To be rogue, the angel probably went against the laws of Heaven, but didn't a fallen angel do that too? How were they different? And shouldn't Heaven be powerful enough to know when its angels were running rogue? Then again, if they were powerful enough, they wouldn't have fallen angels roaming around with humans causing problems.

I wondered what had happened to Isaiah. Did the blessed knife kill him? Could angels even die? I held my head between my knees as questions continued to race through it.

Someone laid a cup of coffee on the end table, and I looked up.

"I apologize for last night," Mo said sadly. There were bags under her eyes from lack of sleep.

"Don't apologize, I was an idiot for staying out so late," I said. It was the truth. If I hadn't been stupid enough to stay out, maybe I wouldn't have been attacked.

Mo nodded and started back towards the kitchen. Her eyes caught on a crucifix on the wall that wasn't straight, and she positioned it correctly before heading off. The crucifix was just one of the many religious pieces in the house. The living room had the most crosses—approximately twenty lined the beige walls, or sat on the book shelves. Mo's room had a gigantic one that covered an entire wall. She'd wanted to buy me one, but I'd talked her out of it.

I was rubbing my eyes when Elliot sprang out from behind the couch and landed on the cushion, causing the springs to creak. To not have realized he'd woke up, I must have been exhausted.

I smacked him, irritated that he'd startled me. "Don't do that, you'll ruin the couch."

"Don't stay out so late then," Elliot replied.

"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled as I picked up the cup of coffee. Mo must have realized I could use the pick- me-up. I was definitely going to need it to survive the day.

...

I decided to ride with Mo and Elliot to school that day. Since the angel had attacked me when I was alone, I felt like I would be more vulnerable to attack while driving to school by myself. Once we'd gotten there, I sat in the nurse's office with Mo and Elliot until it was time for other students to start coming to school. Then I moved outside and watched the early birds arrive, including Ryan.

"Are you trying to make up for yesterday?" he asked when he saw me.

"I just needed a schedule change," I said. I didn't want to tell Ryan about the angel. Not before I discussed it with Father Evered.

"I think you should have just slept in, you look like crap."

"Thanks a lot, asshole," I grumbled. I knew Ryan hadn't meant to be rude. He was a very blunt person, and like a lot of things about him, that took some getting used to. I eventually learned that he didn't mean to hurt me personally and to just counter whatever he said with another empty insult.

Ryan took a small bow as if accepting his title as asshole.

By the time he'd gotten there, it was starting to drizzle. Everyone was going inside, so Ryan helped me up to follow them. "At least I didn't cut open your arm."

After I didn't show back up for lunch and arrived late for the next class yesterday, Ryan wanted answers. He found it all extremely amusing. I should have lied to him.

"Please don't even bring that guy up," I said with a heavy sigh. Ryan gave me a smirk in response.

When we got inside, I gazed around the hallway anxiously. I hadn't seen Isaiah's truck in the parking lot, so that hopefully meant he wasn't in school yet. Maybe if I was lucky, he'd never arrive.

Ryan watched me. "Are you looking for someone?"

I shook my head. "Don't worry about it."

We walked to his locker so he could get his books for first period. I always kept my supplies for the classes before lunch in my book bag to make it easier to get to class. I tried to convince Ryan to do the same, but he said that doing so would make his backpack unbearably heavy. I thought he was just being a whiner.

"Father Evered came to the shop yesterday," Ryan said as he started sorting through the books in his locker. "He ordered a new set of throwing knives for you. I'm assuming you need more?"

"I guess so," I replied, though slightly confused. Father Evered did tend to have a sixth sense when it came to knowing when I needed my throwing knives replaced. I would go to ask him if he could order more, but he'd already have a new set to give to me.

I offered to buy them myself, but he was adamant that he bought them, and that I saved my money for college or something. I liked that he thought about my future. He definitely thought about it more than I did.

Still, I wasn't completely out of throwing knives like I was normally when he ordered them.

"You could always use more knives." Ryan shrugged.

"You're just saying that so he spends more money at the shop," I accused. Ryan smirked again.

"But I don't really need more knives," I continued. "I don't want him spending money on me if I don't need any."

"They were a pretty nice set. Better than what you got now. Maybe he thought you needed an upgrade." Ryan didn't seem to think much of his comment, but it made more sense than he could know. Did Father Evered know about the angel, and had he bought them so I could use them to defend myself? I wouldn't put it past him. I would have to talk to him as soon as possible.

"I should see him tomorrow. That way I can pick up the throwing knives."

"I really don't think you should be trusted with throwing knives." A voice behind me said.

I whipped around to see the familiar form and nauseatingly arrogant grin of Isaiah.

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