An Angel Among Us

Chapter 3: Why Is There a Boy In My Room?

Holy crap! Some random guy is standing in my room! How? I didn't hear anyone come through the window or my bedroom door. There's no other way for a person to sneak in here, right? Except he is a ghost.

The boy has deep-set electric blue eyes and blond hair that falls almost to his shoulders. He's about six feet tall and somewhat muscular, but still lean. He's only wearing a pair of blue jeans and no t-shirt, so his six-pack abs are on full view.

Normally, I would feel embarrassed to see a boy without his shirt on, but right now, I am more surprised by the pure white wings shooting out of this boy's back but cold feet. They appear soft and feathery but they definitely don't look fake in the slightest. He has a strange aura of power around him if that were possible.

"Ha-ha, are you done staring?" he speaks, voice smooth like velvet, not that I mind. His smug tone breaks me out of the slight reverie. He smiles at me with a crooked grin, eyes twinkling with amusement. That's kind of cute.

Wait, don't get distracted!

He's still a creepy guy in my room, I thought.

"Who are you?" I demand to know, pleased that my voice comes out sounding more confident than I feel. "And what are you doing in my room?"

"What? Hello, nice to meet you," he says, sending me a cheeky grin, a tiny dimple dancing at the corner of his mouth.

"Um, considering you broke into my house, it isn't nice to meet you," I point out, starting to get annoyed with him, crossing my arms.

"Okay, very true." He holds his hands up in surrender. "Would it help if I introduced myself first?"

"It couldn't hurt," I admit wearily.

"Fine." He smirks, eyes twinkling with humor. "My name is Jayden."

"Hello, Jayden. Nice to meet you." Sarcasm drips into my voice. "Now get out." I point toward the window where I assume he had entered; at least that's what I thought.

He chuckles softly, a musical tone to his laughter. "Very funny, Isabella."

I am stiffer, more alert now. "I didn't tell you my name," I point out, suspicious eyes narrowed.

"You didn't have to. I already knew your name," he tells me.

Can somebody spell creepy?

"How?" I say, nervousness creeping on. "Who told you my name? What are you doing in my room? I've seen quite a few horror movies, and a good-looking guy sneaking into your room is one of the signs of a death scene. Especially if the said room is on the second floor of the house."

"Woah," he says, holding his hands up reassuringly. "I'm not going to hurt you, Isabella. I'd probably get into a lot of trouble if I let anything bad happen to you."

"It's Bella," I blurt on reflex.

His brow furrows, bemused, "Huh?"

"My name," I explain. "I like being called Bella."

"Alright, Bella." He puts extra emphasis on the name. "As I was saying, it's important that no harm befalls you under my care."

"Why would you get in trouble if something happened to me?" I inquire, confused. "I don't even know you."

"It's a lot to explain, but what you need to know is that I'm here to protect you. And I can tell you more when we get to Angelus Urbem," He explains or at least attempted to.

"Angel City," I speak automatically; my brain seems to translate the phrase.

How did I know that?

I took Spanish during my freshman year of high school, but I wasn't very good at it. I barely passed that course with a C. But I still remember enough to know that he's not speaking Spanish. How I correctly interpreted his language is still a mystery to me since I haven't spoken it before.