The Basil Children

Chapter Eleven

Winston and Delilah were cuddling on his patched couch, her bruises still a vibrant purple, fading into an odd shade of yellow, a week or so after the hospital incident.

"So, are you feeling okay?" He asked, genuinely concerned, as he had been all week.

"Yeah I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

Delilah snuggled into Winston's flannel shirt, sighing. Winston placed his slender fingers on the top of her head softly.

"I-I think I..." He began.

"What is it?" Delilah asked, blushing, as if she knew what he was going to say.

"I love you, Del." He mumbled.

"You don't sound so sure," She teased. "I love you too."

Winston smiled widely as the blonde fell asleep on his chest.

---

Back at the ranch, cheesy couple number two were doing considerably well, for James and Candace at least. The two were enjoying the simplicity of being on their own time for training and preparing, unlike the first week whilst being apart of Angel boot camp.

The pair sat at Candace's piano, as James attempted to play a rhythm from Moonlight Sonata, laughing at his mistakes.

"I'm sure with some proper lessons you could play." Candace encouraged.

"Well, I guess I'll die an uneducated six year old." James decided, chuckling nervously at the end. James walked by her side to see where they could help out.

---

The next morning, Winston woke up with Delilah still breathing slowly, her back rising and falling, asleep on his chest. James and Candace had never slept, they stayed up all night talking. Art was awoken alone and sour.

Paris wrapped herself in a bathrobe and trudged across the corridor to the bathroom, where she took a shower and gave herself a haircut, something she had been doing for years.

She couldn't stop thinking about Tess.

---

That afternoon, Tess called the Basil Children into the training room.

"Tomorrow, bright and early, I'm going to teach you some awesome and useful spells to use against Kesair and his army. This is when shit gets real." She said excitedly.

Winston, of course, was super psyched to finally learn some actual magic. Harry Potter won't have nuthin on me, he thought happily. Delilah geeked out with him, excited at the thought of finally living out her story, in the mystic and whimsical way an adventure ought to be spent.

---

Paris was shaken awake before the sunrise. Before she could yell at whoever was waking her up, she realized it was a tall, dark-haired angel.

"Tess?" Paris whispered.

"Yeah, I'm here. We've got to train this morning." She said under her breath.

Paris sat up on her mattress and turned on the lamp on her bedside table.

Tess did not look happy to be awake this early either, but she was clad in her leather jacket and dark grey jeans. On her feet, as usual, were strapped her glossy black boots.

"Come on." Tess said, grabbing Paris's hand softly.

Paris heaved herself out of bed.

---

When all the angels were dressed and in the doorway of the locked training room, Tess unlocked the steel doors.

Oak bookshelves lined brick walls, filled with peeling spellbooks and potion ingredients of all sorts. In the middle of the room, wooden tables were standing, waiting to be used.