Origin **Rewrite**

4

HALF AN HOUR LATER we were seated across from each other in the corner of a run-down coffee shop down the block from 7th and Main. I took a sip of coffee and instantly felt better, the warmth from the cup pleasantly seeping into my chilled fingers.

Castor was wrapping ice in paper towels and holding them to his eyes, still bloodshot and watery.

I leaned my chin into my palm, appraising him calmly. I felt better now that we were somewhere I was familiar with, and not his sketchy business building. Or a roof. I'd had enough bad run ins with rooftops to last me a lifetime. This café was comfortable to me, with its steady trickle of construction workers from across the street and tired tenants from down the block.

"So why are angels making students want to kill each other?" I asked, preparing myself mentally for an explanation my logical mind would refuse to accept. It unnerved me how serene he was, even after what happened. I'd expected to be scammed by a junkie or a social extremist, but his entire demeanor radiated calm intelligence, like being pepper sprayed was a small price to pay for my understanding.

"It's not all of us," he answered, a little hoarsely. "It's the few that go rogue. Usually we find them before they can hurt anyone, but your match slipped away before we could. I'd tell you his identity for the sake of your safety, but we have really strict protocols about—"

"It's Bacil, isn't it?" I interrupted.

All the color drained from Castor's face. I took that as confirmation. "I was just guessing, but when I was about to fall off the roof he kind of took Neal somewhere quiet instead of like, you know, helping me, and wonder of all wonders, Neal was normal after that. It kind of stuck with me."

I had the texts from Ellie to confirm.

"You fell off a—wait, you've met?!" He backtracked rapidly, mind going a thousand miles a minute. "I—I can't confirm or deny the identity of your match, but if you could tell me everything you remember—"

"Save it, your face gave it away," I took another sip of my coffee. "I really don't know much about him. He transferred to my class on Wednesday, invited me to a party tomorrow—no, I'm not going, don't look at me like that—and today Neal completely lost it on another student that catcalled my best friend and tried to throw him off the roof of the school. I was trying to split them up and got caught up in it. After that, I came to find you."

After a stunned silence, Castor demanded answers to questions completely encompassing the last 48 hours, which I answered to the best of my ability until he was finally satisfied. He frowned down at the table when I was finished, lost in thought. I ordered another coffee and a cup of ice.

Once the server left, Castor folded his hands and rested his chin on them.

"I don't think he knows it's you."

"Really? I don't usually get invited to parties."

Castor shook his head.

"When the match populated, I locked him out of the database before he could see your identity. He got your general location and demographics, but not your name or anyone you're related to."

"Nice to know all privacy is an illusion."

He nodded, grimacing.

"This is good."

I stared at him.

"You just told me a rogue angel destined to be with me is running around making students want to kill each other with access to your tech and resources."

Castor acknowledged that.

"It could be better. But it also could be worse. He doesn't know who you are, and you... well." He leaned back in his seat. "You aren't what I expected, but I don't see you as someone who trusts or falls in love with strangers easily."