A Change of Plans & Heart

3

I woke up in the same bed I woke up in last time. Only my clothes were different, and my hand was bandaged. I stood up and went into the bathroom after I realized I was all alone. I was wearing tight black jeans, a black tank top, a bright red leather jacket and bright red shiny boots. I heard the door open.

"Present yourself!" an evil voice boomed. I meekly stepped out of the bathroom.
A tall, less attractive blonde man circled me and I could feel his eyes burning through me.

"I'm to escort you downstairs to meet with Abel. He will introduce the ways of what we do, and you will obey his every command. Your cooperation is not only expected but required." he said, his expression like a stone.

"I just have one question," I said nervously. He cleared his throat.

"What did they do to my hand?" I asked. It was stinging and throbbing. He sighed and unzipped his jacket. Pulling down on his shirt revealed the number eighteen scarred onto his chest. I didn't get it.

"My angel, Jubilee has my number on her hand, so there's no
questioning whether or not she is mine. You belong to Abel, and when you are healed and remove the bandage you will see the number one inscribed on your palm," he said. I felt my heart sink. The cruelest thing I could possibly imagine.

I followed him into the hallway and got into the elevator. He pressed the ground floor button and the doors slid closed. When we stepped off, the room was silent and everyone was staring at me. Men and women all dressed just like me, everywhere. Tons of them. Abel was sitting in a red leather chair in the middle of the room and when he stood up, everyone else sat down. He took my still useful hand and pulled me over to another elevator across the room. Everyone resumed their business and I no longer felt as exposed. We went down a few floors and stepped off.

There were cars everywhere. All black with black tinted windows and red racing stripes. He led me to an intimidating black Hummer 2 and a small, shiny Dodge Dart that looked like they were never touched.

"These are yours, and accessible to you when you please, with my permission," he said, handing me two key fobs. I held them, still trembling. He turned to me and held my shoulders.

"Do not fear me, my intentions are not to harm you. Respect me, my intentions are to take care of you," he said. I felt a wave of anger.

"I don't want to be taken care of. I want to go home," I said, crossing my arms.

"I'll say this once, and only once. Your cooperation or lack there of determines your privileges or lack there of. This isn't prison, you can live your life, but you live it here, and you make me proud. I am in charge of you," he replied. I knew I was defeated.

"Now, would you care to have the grand tour?" He asked, offering me his hand. I reluctantly took it.

"You will learn manners, tactics, and duties that will all contribute toward our progress," he said, as we re-entered the elevator.

"Progress toward wh-" I was pinned to the wall.

"You won't speak out of turn," he said, pushing my hair out of my face and caressing my cheek. I was disturbed by the fact that I found him rather intriguing. Call me crazy, but baby-blue eyes and platinum hair on a Calvin Klein model really was something to see. He was gorgeous. But there was nothing I wanted more than to just go home.

"I'm sorry," I stammered. He smiled. A gorgeous smile.

"You're forgiven. Now, worry not what our goal is. Worry about how you can contribute. One thing I will say about you though, you're pretty stubborn. Never seen an angel speak at all for the first week or so, let alone dare to speak rude words out of turn," he said, as we stepped off the elevator.

We were at the end of a very long hallway, and the view out these windows was absolutely breathtaking. We had to be on the top floor.

"May I speak?" I asked. The words felt like poison dripping off my tongue.

"You may," he replied.

"Why do you call us, or women, angels?" I asked. "Earlier, I assumed number eighteen just referred to his girlfriend, for lack of a better word, as such as a term of endearment. But you say it too."

"Well, if you want my honest answer," he said, stopping and pulling me close to him, "we're demons. Every man on the planet. We're cruel, heartless beings. Women ground us. Women bring us back to our human emotions. You teach us to love. And that's something that only an angel is capable of."

All I could do was just stare into those eyes. I was at a loss for words. He smiled.

"Now, this is stop number one on our grand tour. Your new home," he said, unlocking the door. It was the only door at the end of the hall.

He opened it and my jaw dropped. The penthouse was my house. The walls were mostly glass looking out on the city. The rest of the decor was, of course, black, white and red. But it was beautiful.

"Why do I get to live here, and not a regular room?" I asked, not caring that I didn't ask permission to speak.

"Because, this is my home, and you're mine. This is the place we'll share," he said. I stepped in and he shut the door behind us. He sat down on a black leather love seat and watched me take it all in. I walked to the kitchen, bar, pool deck, bathrooms, bedrooms, and then stopped at a locked door.

"Abel?" I called.

"Angel?" He replied.

"This door is locked," I said. He approached me and the door.

"Behind this door is nothing of your concern," he said, leaning up against it.

"Please?" I asked, fluttering my eyelids. Maybe if I acted like he wanted me to, my life would get easier.

"No."

Damn. I really thought I had this figured out.

"I won't let you in, but I can tell you what's in there, though I doubt you'd be interested, " he sighed. I smiled.

"It's guns," he said sternly. That's all. Just walls, shelves, cases and racks full of weaponry," he said.

"It's want to see them."

"No."

"Target practice used to be a hobby of mine. I like guns," I replied. That was true. I liked guns a lot. As a tool for safety, but for a fun sport also. He raised an eyebrow.

"You just get better and better, don't you?" He asked, taking a key from around his neck and opening the door.

He was right. There were guns. A lot of guns. Some I'd only seen in movies, some I never imagined.

"Satisfied?" He asked. I nodded.

"Then let's go. I'd like to talk with you," he said, ushering me out and locking the door behind us.