Terminal (Terminal trilogy #1)

19: Aimless morning gold

I was reeling, and I never felt like I'd stop rolling, off kilter and off, Rhamiel's wings dragging on the ground behind me. When I crawled back into the sunlight, my vision was dusted with stars, and my dreadful inner monologue was again distracted by the sounds of other people.

There was a good crowd of people, as well as the police and a television crew. Kell was standing by the door, the first person to meet me, and he was looking. Just looking. Staring at me, and looking god awfully old.

He looked disappointed in me, and for a moment, all my gut could react to was this notion- the hell did he think he was, that right bastard, that old fucker who had no right to judge me as softly as he did-

Then I took another breath, and dug myself a hole of self acceptance: Kell was a good guy, and he had every right to frown at me. I hoped that somewhere in Pride, safe, Blake was doing the same.

Rhamiel's body was taken from me, and I was too tired to protest. Not off, but right minded, finally for once having the sense to acknowledge some forces were beyond me. I was an annoying brat who got people killed. Better keep that corpse away from me before I ruined it even more.

Still, watching as the body was carried through the crowd, and the way people splayed their greedy fingers through his feathers, I couldn't but feel angry. Again. Was I always angry, or just an impulsive beast desperate for self validation?

The only real skill I needed, truthfully, was the ability to stop thinking so much.

In Heaven, they would've burned his body. There would have been a beautiful song to go with it, and the funeral dances would have sent his soul right up into their afterlife. Which, last I checked, was just a short journey up to Michael.

Angelic myths were weird, but something in my heart wanted to respect them today.

I was led up to Pride with the rest of the crowd, feeling corralled but not sure. No one had handcuffed me to anything, but I was still in the center of the group, uneasily watched by at least one cop.

Kell was here, too.

At the atrium of Pride, the groups diverged according to the police chief, Lane, who then joined Kell. I stood still and watched them, until I was gestured to come forward.

"Are you okay?" Lane asked. She had been the one to motion me towards the two of them, but she ignored me, gently examining Kell's wound the moment I was in earshot.

"Yes, no- I'm fine." Kell moved her hand away. "Mannie. I wanted to talk to you."

"In jail," Lane added quickly.

"Where I will be speaking to you."

"Am I going to be charged with anything?" I asked.

"Depends on what you tell me."

Lane was making no effort to hide her displeasure towards me, as well as Kell's apparent amnesty. I tried my best to look sincere, "I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone. Which I didn't do, honestly, but you know, assisted deaths are still..."

"Mannie. We'll talk."

"I know Glenn was a friend of yours, but at least she's alive, right?" Both of them were walking at a pace slightly faster than my own, and I quickly ran up to Lane to try and meet her eyes. "Oh. Is she dead?"

"Mannie," Kell reminded, and I kept my mouth shut.

We went to the largest police station in Hell, where Lane peeled away from us with a crooked smile, and Kell took me to what seemed to just be someone's office. He saw behind the desk, and I sat on the other side in what felt like an almost nostalgic set up.