They Know Me

MY CHOICE MADE ...

Back at Rhys' house, we got out of the car and I hobbled around to the sidewalk where Rhys was bent down, inspecting something. His pant leg was up. On display was the price he'd paid for being at the warehouse – deep, reddened scratches that were starting to bruise, were etched into his skin from his knee to his ankle. At that moment, I saw my best friend in a different light, and my respect for him doubled. "Your first battle wound."

He lowered his pant leg. Smiling wryly, he straightened. "I prefer these to being possessed. At least this way I know I'm still me." He looked over at Zil, and without sarcasm, said, "Tonight – thanks."

"You are welcome."

"Wait – does this mean you'll try to get along with him now?" I whispered to Rhys.

He shot me a semi-dirty look. "I'll see you tomorrow ... in the daylight." He walked up to his house and, after carefully unlocking the door, he stepped inside and closed it softly behind him. I heard it as he reset the bolt.

"I hope his parents don't wake up and see him sneaking in. We'll both have a lot of explaining to do."

"Why both of you?" Zil asked.

"They'll know he was with me."

A smile started at the corner of his lips. "I have a secret to share with you – they will not. Before we left for the warehouse, Zaamee went into his house and did a spell so his parents would not awaken." Before I could say anything, Zil added quickly, "Harmless, I assure you. It was done in the same manner as his cleansing. For the rest of the night, he can make as much noise as he wants, and they will never know."

"Neither will Rhys – because if he knew, he'd hit the roof." Then, thinking about earlier in the night, I began to smile. "And you let him believe he had to push his car?"

"I would not say I let him. I would say I did not argue with him." Zil took my hand. "Can you spare some time for me, or are you tired, as well?"

"I'm not too tired."

In the moonlight, the way his cheek was turned, I could see the place where I was made to scratch him. But just like Zil had said it would, the wound had healed – nothing left to mar his perfect skin remained. It had been close and, at one point I thought we'd lose everything, but the night ended the way it was supposed to; our team was victorious over the evil entity.

Gradually I realized he'd been watching me the entire time.

With no real reason for doing it, other than as a show of gratitude, a way to express my appreciation for all he'd done, risking himself – for me, for everyone, I reached up to kiss him.

Zil accepted and kissed me back.

When we parted, he stroked my cheek lightly with his thumb and gazed at me with slightly dulled eyes, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. "I thought I lost you."

"You didn't ... Ange," I whispered.

He pulled back a little. "Ange? No one has called me that in ages. Why did you?"

"Because it's your name and because you were my angel tonight – my guardian angel."

He scoffed softly. "Do you not mean 'fallen angel'?"

"No, and don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you don't trust me. Isn't that what we're supposed to do – trust each other?"

His eyes moved from mine.

"Zil, what you did for us back there, all of us – you were an angel. Not 'fallen' – just ... angel. Clearly you were. Even the priest thought so. Otherwise he would've taken over one of us. But he didn't. Instead, he chose you."