Moments; singular, siphoned, like grains of sand which fall restlessly, and build without limits...growing with increasing momentum, each step, beat, a steady staccato , marking down the minutes until the cold inevitability of the ...end ...death.
M...
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"Shit," I snap my phone shut and am already up and halfway out of the room when Walker grabs my hand to halt me. "Darling..." "There's been another one. I have to...I mean, we have to go right now." I can see that Garrett got the call too, because he already has his "game face" on. "I'm coming with you," Chamuel says. "Yeah, I sort of thought that was a given," I murmur. "But...uhmmm...can you tone it down a bit, please?" "Tone what down?" "You literally glow, Chamuel. And...well...you have a halo, and a...a...is that a crown on your head?" Chamuel sighs. "I can bring down the brilliance, so that humans can stare at me without going blind" Oh, well, how kind of him, not to blind the poor little humans with his heavenly light. "But there is nothing I can do about the halo, all of The Host have halos, same can be said about the circlet of gold, I cannot rid myself of it. I am technically a prince of Heaven, the circlet is always there." "Technically?" I mutter. "Either you are, or you aren't a prince, Chamuel." "I thought it would put you slightly more at ease saying it as I did." I roll my eyes. "It didn't. So, are you, or are you not, a prince?" Chamuel nods his head. "I am. I am the first born of the Archangel Michel, who is the beloved warrior, messenger, retriever and one of the Firsts from our Lord. Such as it is, I am a Prince of Heaven." Oh my God. It was one thing to assume, it was another to figure it out, and KNOW in all actuality that he was a FOR REAL prince. "I am still just me, my amour. Chamuel, first born of Michael, one of The First of our Lord in Heaven. Nothing has changed. Do not let this change our relationship." "Dude, we don't have a relationship," I spit out. "Dude?" Chamuel frowns. "I don't think I like that word." "Fuck, something we actually agree on," Walker mutters, and Chamuel laughs. "Am I to believe that we actually have something in common, Romanoff, other than our Annora? You too, dislike this word, dude?" "Hey, I'm right here," I say, "Don't talk about me as if I'm not here, and I can't hear you guys." "I apologize amour. I was just so surprised that Romanoff and I agree upon something that I temporarily forgot myself." He gifts me a huge smile before adding, "so shall we be on our way? It appears murder waits for no one."
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This crime scene was no better than the last. I ignored the looks our motley little crew got when we arrived, and continue to study the scene. It truly is epically horrific. "He consumes all parts," Chamuel finally says, and I shoot him a look of surprise. Although why I'm surprised I'm not sure. He is an angel after all who came down from Heaven to help us specifically with all of this. "Already established that fact," Walker shoots back. "And I did it before you arrived, you feathered freak." "Walker," I sigh, "Can we try not to call Chamuel names...especially NOT while we're around colleagues." Walker looks around. "Annora darling, there is no one here except the three of us." He's right. Garrett had (at my request, manned the door for us). "They're right outside of the door, Walker, and frankly, cops gossip worse than old ladies. I really don't need our dirty laundry aired out for the entire station. I'd appreciate it if you'd try to get along with Chamuel...or at least, pretend to get along with him while we're out in public, please." Walker sighs deeply. "God, you keep asking so much of me, darling." "Actually, I don't think I ask much of you at all, Walker." "She's right, Romanoff. She very rarely asks anything of you. In fact, your involvement in all of this...it is the first time she has seen you in a year, or more, correct? So...she's asked nothing of you." Chamuel finishes with a beatific smile on his beautiful face. "I detest you," Walker says finally. "I'll grow on you, you'll see," is Chamuel's response to Walker's outburst. "And me?" I ask. "Will you grow on me, too?" Oh my God. What had come over me? Why in the world had I asked that. "Just pretend you didn't hear that," I blurt out, "Or....better yet, pretend I didn't say anything at all." Chamuel grins, and then chuckles. "You are entirely precious, my amour. And to answer your question. No, I won't grow on you, because I'm already there, my girl." And exactly what did that mean? It seems that everything out of this angels mouth led to another question. "Oyyy...okay, whatever. Listen, Walker is right about one thing, he did tell me that this murderer consumes everything from his victim. He doesn't leave anything." "Tuatha De Danaan. It is a Shining One," Chamuel says grimly. "Again, something we already know," Walker says testily. Chamuel inclines his head. "And did you know that he defies the natural order by morphing the essence and life force of your humans into matter more palatable for his tastes so that he can consume them entirely?" Now...this WAS interesting. "I'm sorry, what?" "The blood is taken, but the flesh is..." Chamuel seems to search for the right words before continuing, "...the flesh is not palatable in the form that it is in." "Basically you're saying he's not into cannibalism," I mutter. "Correct," Chamuel says. "Although, what he does is, in fact, a form of cannibalism, since he does consume them. But this...this husk you see, it is what remains after he has transfigured his victim into his desired object, into what appeals to him." I was almost afraid to ask. "And do you know what he changes his victims into before he...uh...eats them?" "But of course...the preferred item of his worshipped Goddess...an apple."
