What the Halo? I ONC2020 I

Chapter 13: Michaela

I closed the door of the ladies room behind me and stumbled to the sink. The mirror didn't show me good news. My complexion was more ghostly than angelic. The pain had spread from my arm to my frame, twisting my stomach in knots and squeezing air from my lungs.

I needed help.

The halo was still clutched in my hand. Cain had returned before I could establish a connection. I had to try again.

I sucked in a breath and straightened, resisting the urge to fold and whimper. I clasped my other hand around the cold, golden ring and channeled my feverish warmth into it. My eyesight blurred. I'd never realized how much energy the device gobbled up. Greedy, little bugger.

Feeling dizzy and weak, I turned my back to the sink and leaned against it. I'd been doing this since the day I was given wings, and never thought much of it, but today connecting the halo was excruciating like a dive into a bath of ice cubes. Headfirst.

I cleared my mind and gave it all to the halo, my warmth, my energy, my happy thoughts. I tried not to choke on the amount of Cain that passed through. Cain carrying me away from Grigori, Cain's hands around my waist hoisting me to the platform, the fire in his eyes when I ticked him off. How could such a thing make me happy? But an angel's thoughts don't lie and mine made it plain as day. Cain had not only invaded my happy thoughts, he dominated them. Cain owned my happiness. No wonder I was in this mess.

"Halo! Michaela?" A distant voice echoed with the vibrancy of the halo in my hands.

"Uriel?" I'd never been happier to hear my sister's voice. "I need your help."

"I know, but ..." She sounded unusually distressed. Was she crying?

"Uriel? I'm serious. I need you to come down here and heal me."

"Gimme that!" Rafael's authoritative voice rang through.

"No, you can't. She halo-ed me, not you." The halo jerked and crackled. In the background, Uriel sniveled. "I'm sorry, Michaela, I'm so sorry."

"Michaela! You're in big trouble," Rafael said.

"No shit, Sherlock." I rolled my eyes.

"What?"

"If you came down to the work floor more often, you'd understand. Of course, I know I'm in trouble. That's why I'm halo-ing. I need your help, Rafael."

He sighed. "I know, but we can't."

Everything was so heavy. My limps, my head, the halo, Rafael's tone. I put the lid of the toilet down so I could sit on it for a minute. "Of course you can. You still got wings, don't you?"

"We're forbidden to help you, Michaela. Nobody in heaven or hell will come to your aid. You're on your own."

He couldn't mean that. I lifted my hoodie to inspect my abdomen. Blue patterns branched out across my skin like a tree and beneath my skin, its roots were festering. "Rafael, I'm not sure but it looks bad. I might die."

Rafael lost his temper. "You crumpled His orders and threw them in the trash, then defied them and lied about them. What did you think was going to happen?"

I knew he was right, but there had to be a way out. So I made a mistake, I wasn't a bad person, was I? "What does that mean? This is it? I'm not an angel anymore?"

"Find the demon child. Redeem yourself."

He was serious. This was all the help I could expect from them. I tried to fight back the tears, but despair grabbed hold of me quickly. "I don't know if I can. I don't wanna die, Rafael."