"What was my father like?" Sean asked. He sat in the living room, draped on a chair, as he conversed with Anael.  I was in the adjacent kitchen, fixing myself a bowl of cereal.  The other angels had not arrived yet, for whatever reason.

"Oh, he was wonderful," Anael said. "Your mother, too.  They were a disgustingly gorgeous couple.  Very much alike, actually."

"How so?" Sean rested his head on his hands as he lay, sprawled horizontally, over his chair.  His long, purple hair shaded his face and covered his eyes, making his expression indiscernible.

"They were both very strict, morally," Anael said. "Intelligent, hard working.  Your father was a bit severe, though.  Didn't tolerate intolerance, if you know what I mean.  Your mother was the gentler half."

"...what were they angels of...?" I asked tentatively. I carried my cereal bowl carefully into the living room, praying for the milk to not slosh over the side.  Sean glanced up at me, and then turned back to Anael.

"Well, that's interesting, that..." Anael said. "Your mother was the angel of life, you see...and your father was the angel of death."

"Angel of d-death?" I stammered, as Sean murmured, "Neat."

"Oh, it's not as bad as all that," Anael said. "He was more of a law enforcement kind of person than what that title connotates."

"Oh," I said. "There are prisons in heaven?"

"For angels, yes," Anael said. "Not pleasant establishments, I can assure you.."

I think that's enough history for today.

Metatron was suddenly there, standing by the stairs, his mouth turned down.  His lips were his only way to express his emotions, and he used them well.  Tialiel and Cadmiel materialized next to him a few seconds later.

"If you guys can do that," I said, "Why did you bother to ring the doorbell last night?"

"Just barging in would have been rather rude, don't you think?" Cadmiel smiled. "Now... shall we get to work?"

Cadmiel pulled open the back door and stepped onto the wooden deck.

"Work?" Sean stretched, pulling himself up from the chair slowly, like a cat rising from a nap.  He padded out onto the deck and stood behind Cadmiel, who was surveying my backyard.

"I'm certainly not here to see the sights," Cadmiel said.  He turned to face Sean. "I'm going to train you."

"That so?" Sean yawned.

"Unfortunately," Cadmiel murmured.  He sauntered down the deck's steps and onto the gravel surrounding my pool.

"Cadmiel is a general in the army," Tialiel said proudly. "He's one of the best."

"Comforting," Sean said, continuing to follow Cadmiel's steps.  I stood on the deck nervously, wondering what was going to happen and if it would involve blood.  By now the two were on the grass, standing in front of the towering oak tree that guarded the back of the yard.  Sean looked at Cadmiel expectantly, and with a flourish, Cadmiel extended his arm and opened his fist flat.  The area around his palm glowed blue, and I suddenly was aware of a shape forming in the area around the light.  Moments later Cadmiel was grasping the hilt of a long, ornate sword.  Its blade was almost as thin as a needle and looked just as sharp, and the silver hilt was inlaid with jewels and intricate carvings.  The blade caught the light as he hoisted it in front of him, and it flashed and shimmered beneath the morning sun.

"Standard issue," Anael said, when it noticed my open-mouthed stare.  I had always harbored a fondness for swords.

"Can I have one?" Sean said, offering his hands to show that he was weaponless.

"We're worse off than I thought, if you haven't got a sword," Cadmiel frowned.

"Why the hell would I have a sword?" Sean said. "True, the rabbits around here are pretty vicious sometimes, but I've got a dagger for that kind of thing."

"That's all, eh?" Cadmiel said.  He produced another sword with far less bravado and tossed it to Sean. "Use this for now, then."

"Where are you getting these things?" Sean raised an eyebrow as he caught the sword's hilt nimbly.

Cadmiel shrugged. "Cosmic void."

"Fair enough," Sean said.  He examined his sword, which was not nearly as decorative as Cadmiel's.  Its hilt was bound in plain leather, and the blade was slightly wider and even looked a bit rusted.  Sean was the first to notice the unfairness of this.

"This sword sucks."

"Best I could do on short notice," Cadmiel said. "We're just going to do a diagnostic test, anyway."

The others and I had moved in closer by this point, and were sitting on the stone table and bench set that overlooked Sean and Cadmiel's hill of grass.

"Wh-what's he going to do?" I whispered fearfully.

"Nothing fatal," Anael chirped. "Relax."

Cadmiel broke his stance first, darting forward in an incomphrensible blur, aiming the tip of his sword at Sean's shoulder.  Startled, Sean reacted hastily, just barely blocking the strike with his own weapon.  He pushed back against Cadmiel and they pulled away from each other. Cadmiel smiled and struck again, tearing the knee of Sean's pants.  Angered, he slashed at Cadmiel with reckless abandon.  Cadmiel parried the attempt easily, his smile widening as their swords clanked together.

"One of the basic rules of fighting is to not let anger cloud your judgment," Cadmiel admonished breathily as their skirmish continued.  Sean tried for another strike, which Cadmiel deflected handily.  Sean's frustration was evident in his attacks--he lacked the controlled, poetic artistry of Cadmiel's movements, hack and slash though they were. Cadmiel's offenses were fast and violent, but never wild, as though he had mapped out every step in his head moments before its execution.  It was clear even from this short battle that he was extraordinary.  Sean was red faced with humility and annoyance by the end of Cadmiel's assault, and I could almost hear his ego screaming.  His  pants were torn and he was marred with a few bright red scratches--just enough abuse to let him know where he stood.  I couldn't help feeling sorry for him, especially since that was the only pair of pants he owned.

"Do you know how long it will take to sew these?!" he snapped, poking at the torn silk. "Goddammit."

"He sews?" Tialiel said to me.  I nodded, smiling a little as he swooned. "That's so cute!"

"The enemies you'll face will likely have wings, as you and I do," Cadmiel said, ignoring Sean's plight. "Therefore I will also be teaching you aerial combat."

"You're kidding," Sean said, giving a disbelieving glance to his wings.

"Fraid not," Cadmiel said. "Aerial battles are common--almost traditional--amongst angels.  Actually the most honorable way to fight, really... you know, so the citizenry aren't involved."

"Of course," Sean said. "Say, can you tell me how to hide these wings?  They're totally killing my social life."

"Wish I could," Cadmiel shrugged. "It's something we learn naturally in the early stages of development.  It's intrinsic. You'll figure it out eventually."

"Thanks," Sean muttered.  He sat down next to me on the bench and I looked over his cuts.

"I th-think you're going to need more Band-Aids," I said.

"That's the downside to being the best," Cadmiel said as he watched me fuss, "the ladies never worry."

"Watch it," Sean glared, prompting laughter from Anael.

"Such a cute nephew I have."

Metatron, predictably, said nothing.  He was wearing a pair of darkly tinted sunglasses, presumably to hide his lack of eyeballs, and his head was turned away from us, towards our pool.

"You o-okay, Metatron?" I asked as I rose to fetch the Band-Aids.

Yes.  I am fine.  I am only listening to the birds.

He pointed to a small group of birds in a tree by the pool, which were singing and chirping to one another as they navigated the tree's skinny branches.

"Okeedokee," I said, continuing my trek back to the house.  The others followed me presently, and soon I was back in the living room, washing and bandaging Sean's wounds.  Sean made a noise of appreciation when I had finished, at which Cadmiel frowned.  I was tempted to ask the reason for this, but thought better of it.  Smoke from the cigarette butt hanging casually out of his mouth floated into the air, spiting his expression.  He was dressed in a silk shirt that buttoned at the chest and hung open the rest of the way down, showcasing his navel.  This, along with his snug, black leather pants, scandalized me.  True, Tialiel was a boy in dresses, but they were nice dresses, at least.

The doorbell rang as I finished with Sean's bandages.  Before I could stop him, Cadmiel rose to answer the chimes, whether out of a real curiousity or just a desire to leave the room I didn't know.  Both Kai and Delilah stood on the porch, and Cadmiel took their hands, kissing first Kai's and then Delilah's gently.

"Hello, girls," he said smoothly, taking a drag of his cigarette as he let their hands slip from his and straightened his posture. "How are you this fine afternoon?"

"Who the hell are you?" Kai said, though her tone was surprisingly kind despite the question.  Delilah was wiping off the kiss on her shirt and muttering.

"Only my lord's touch is worthy."

"H-his name is Cadmiel," I said, coming up behind him. "He's an angel."

"The wings were a bit of a giveaway," Kai said.

"H-he's one of Metatron's friends," I said, stepping away from the door to allow them entrance.  "The r-rest of them are in the living room."

"Lovely," Kaid said, but Delilah was far ahead of her.

"What have they done to you?!" her screech bounched off the walls.

"Nothing--I'm fine," Sean insisted, pushing her away.

"But you're covered in bandages," she fretted, hovering around him like a moth under a street lamp.

"Well, I was just training with Cadmiel..."

"That wretched monster," Delilah whipped around, glaring accusingly at Cadmiel before Sean could finish.  Metatron set a hand on Delilah's shoulder.

Be calm.

And, wildly enough, she was.  She fell silent and curled up languidly on the couch, though she continued to cast glares at Cadmiel every so often.

"Nice," Sean said, as impressed as the rest of us.  Kai's eyes ran over the bandages on Sean's body, but she did not snicker, as she likely would have a few years ago.  Their feelings toward each other had softened into friendship over the months.  This was reasonable and almost inevitable, because if they had not become friends they surely would have killed each other by now.

"So what's going on?" she finally asked.  The angels introduced themselves, and Anael explained.  Kai merely shrugged, but the situation pleased Delilah.

"How exciting!" she said.

"I'm g-glad you're s-so happy about it," I muttered.

"Expect we'll be seeing some of our old friends again soon, then," Kai said shrewdly.

"Hm?" Cadmiel glanced over at Kai. "Who do you mean?"

It was by this invitation that I began the story of the events of three years ago.  I realized as I was telling it that I probably should have related it earlier, but then I further realized that Metatron had been present during several of the major events.  He acted as though he had forgotten this, and when I mentioned Donovan and Lucius he made only the barest indication of having made their acquaintance.

Yes... I.. I believe I remember them.

The amazing thing about Metatron's telepathy was the degree of voiceless emotion it could communicate.  It far surpassed the capabilities of a regular voice, as his thoughts were essentially my own, differentiated only by their foreign quality.  It was rare that his thought speech took advantage of this feature, as he was usually sedate, but now his words were uncertain, and this uncertainty permeated the minds of all to whom he spoke.  He shut his eyelids for a moment and then opened them immediately; a strange sight, considering.

Yes, I remember.  I do not know the details of their involvement, but I believe that they are directly tied to the disappearance of your parents... Sean.

His 'voice' was firm until the end, when he faltered on Sean's name, as if it were a fact in dispute.

I also believe they have other companions, but I can't tell much about them.

"Well, that's beautiful," Sean said. "I know I love living in fear."

"It's easier th-than you think," I muttered.

Affronted, Metatron shrugged his shoulders helplessly, seeming as though he had something else to say but had just decided against it.  Cadmiel sent Sean a reproachful look and said,

"He's only trying to warn you."

Sean, not a person given to apologies, grumbled in response, but his expression softened.

"Cranky today," Kai observed, and his face contorted again.  He restrained himself from comment, however, and instead poked at his bandages sullenly.

"Is that all, then?" he asked Cadmiel, still prodding a Band-Aid on his forearm.

"For today," he said. "We'll do more tomorrow.  Flying lessons."

"Can't wait," Sean said, and then suddenly broke into a disturbing smile, as would one who has just been inspired with a sinister idea. "Can we do a bit more ground fighting as well?"

"If you want," Cadmiel said, sounding amused. "I thought you'd had enough."

"Oh, no," Sean said. "This time we fight without weapons."

Cadmiel smiled back at him.

"I look forward to it."

"So tell me what reason is allowing us the honor of your presence," Sean said, his irritation having dissipated with Cadmiel's exit.

"Nothing in particular," Kai said. "Just in the neighborhood..."

"Delilah lives downtown," I said, and Kai shrugged.

"I didn't come here with her."

"It's a pilgrimage," Delilah said, as if she were commenting on the weather.

"I see," I said, leaving it at that.  My stomach mumbled in garbled annoyance, having digested the paltry bit of cereal I had eaten earlier.

"How about lunch?" Sean said, with a sidelong glance at me.

"With me as the chauffeur?" Kai said.

"Of course," Sean turned his grin on her, his straight, sharp teeth flashing in the sunlight.  Sean cared for nothing if not hygiene, despite the fact that nearly all of his days were spent exposed to the dirty elements.  Kai shrugged in resigned agreement, and, having not even had the chance to sit down, turned to walk back to the door.

The hot leather upholstery of Kai's car attached itself to any bare skin it touched, and the metal seatbelts seared our hands as we struggled with the buckles.  I rode shotgun, leaving Sean and Delilah in the back (much to his displeasure and her delight).  He folded his wings as close to his body as was physically possible and tried to focus on the passing scenery instead of Delilah's adoring gaze.

"Where to?" Kai said.

"Let's go someplace nice," Sean said.

"You've got money?" Kai said.

He reached into his pocket and revealed a handful of bills.

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"D-did you get a j-job, S-sean?" I blinked, wondering why he hadn't told me.

"In a manner of speaking," he murmured.

Kai was too focused on driving to comment, so I let the subject drop. I trusted that he wasn't doing anything illegal (though he was certainly the sort to put himself above the law), but I decided that now was not a good time to push it.

The air outside was thick with heat and humidity, so we kept the windows up and the AC high.  I pitied the dog walkers and the joggers on the sidewalks, with their red and brown faces shining with sweat.  Heat tended to have adverse effects on my body, usually consisting of fainting spells, so I was not one for afternoon walks.  Nice houses with professionally cut lawns flowed by as Kai navigated her way out of the suburbs, toward a strip mall of a homogenized, red-brick and cream border design.  It was a sheltered, almost idyllic world, with a quiet that was only pierced by the news reports from the large neighboring cities and states around us.  It was to this world that I had grown accustomed, which made Sean's presence and the events associated with it all the more jarring.

Kai pulled into the first restaraunt we saw that was not part of a fast food chain.  It was a little after noon, so there was a wait.  Rather than walk around in the hottest hours of the day, we clustered into a corner of a waiting area, making remarks about the servers and patrons until our name was called.  Nothing unusual happened while we ate, aside from the routine stares at Sean's wings.  Our waitress, an obnoxiously friendly type, chirped when she saw them.

"Love the wings!  Where did you get them?"

"They sprung out from my back," he deadpanned.

"That's beautiful," she said, and I noticed glitter sparkling on her cheeks as she turned her head in the light.  Suddenly I knew who we were dealing with.  Sean muttered something obscene as she floated away.

"I wonder how many Tori Amos albums she owns," Kai mused, eliciting a smirk from Sean.

The meal passed without much event.  Clouds had gathered over the sun as we passed the hours inside, so the temperature was significantly cooler when we left than when we had arrived.  We decided to walk along the strip in the hope of burning a few of the calories we had all just gained.  We walked the strip until early evening, and the sky had darkened from blue to violet with the threat of rain.  By this time I was clammy with perspiration and feeling faint. Sean noticed, and he pulled a long feather off his right wing, using it as a meager fan.  I would have blushed, had my cheeks not already been scarlet with warmth.

"Hey, over here," Kai said, and he pleasantly obliged, being too content with food to argue.  Delilah shared Sean's claimed immunity to Earth's elements, and was thusly frolicking ahead of us, despite the sweat that shimmered on her neck and face.  I was almost relaxed.

This, of course, was the listening deity's cue to remedy that.  Several of the shops on the strip were empty buildings awaiting a new lease, and I noticed a figure shuffling in one of these as we passed.  Disturbed, I paused, pressing my face against the glass.  Something fell out of the dark depths of the empty space, into the light and onto the dirty concrete.  I strained to see it, but it vanished into the abyss not seconds after its appearance, dragged from view by an unseen force.

"What're you looking at?" Sean asked, having realized that I had strayed from the group.

"I...I s-saw something," I said uncertainly. The darkness was stilled, making me doubt my eyes.  Sean tried to pull open the door, but was unsurprisingly deterred by its lock.

"Probably just a trick of light," he said. His tone forced nonchalance, though his eyes were narrow and his brows drawn together.  I did not know if he was just humoring me or if he really felt something, but either way he let it go when Kai and Delilah began calling for us.  By this time it was fully evening, and the purplish sky was fading into velvet blue.  Mosquitos emerged, eager to prey on skin laid bare by tank tops and cutoff shorts.  As a person who tended to be an especial target for biting, I thought it was best that we return home.  We headed for Kai's car, and she dropped Delilah off, following with us; She called goodnight as we walked into the house.  Sean caught sight of the clock as I turned on the lights, and he stopped short.

"Um... I'm going to go out for a while," he mumbled, turning on his heel.

"But..." I blinked, in vain--he was already closing the door behind him.  I started after him, but he had already disappeared down the street, and I wondered if he had ran.  Disconcerted, I walked slowly back to my house and up the stairs to my room.

I sprawled myself onto my bed, stretching out lethargically.  My mind, paranoid as it was, wandered into various realms of possiblity over where Sean might be.  The tinny, much-ignored rational voice in my brain said that he probably just wanted to walk alone for a while.  Then I remember the money he'd had earlier, and worried that he was out mugging people.  The rational voice interrupted, reminding me that he was too self-righteous to do such a thing, and I finally decided that he must have a job.  But if he had a job, why would he not tell me?  I agonized over it as I hugged my pillow close to my body.  When I had worn my brain of that worry, I switched over to Sean and Cadmiel's impending fistfight.  If Cadmiel won, Sean would be twice humiliated, and if Sean won, he would likely gloat so much that Cadmiel would kill him right there.  My fretting was cut short by the sound of knocking against my windowpane.  I tensed with fear, though the soft voice reminded me that trees grew in front of my window and so it was likely branches swaying in the wind.  The knocking persisted, softly and deliberately, until I rose from my bed.  I walked to my window, intending just to look outside, to quell my paranoia.  Seeing nothing but darkness and trees, and realizing that the knocking had stopped, I retired to bed.  It began again just as my eyelids were getting heavy, and I snapped awake, fueled by adrenal terror.  I wondered if I had suddenly been transported into a horror movie as I went to check the window again.  Upon this second inspection I noticed a scratch on the glass, as if someone had carved it with an ice pick.  The adrenaline metamorphosed into nausea as I squinted into the night.  Without warning, a metal claw clapped against the window pane, its sharp digits dug into the wood.  I half-gasped, half-shrieked, jumping away as a gravelly, familiar voice from outside hissed.

"Open the window or I'll shatter it."

Paralyzed by the potent combination of terror and anxiety, I did nothing.  I was shocked into compliance when I heared the dull sound of Donovan's claw cutting glass.

"There's a good girl," he said, clutching the bottom of my window and pulling his body up.  He climbed onto my carpet and stood, his white wings stretched out on either side of his body.

I sat down on my bed mechanically, folding my hands in my lap.  I was too scared to breathe or think, and in fact could do nothing but stare blankly, as an animal awaiting slaughter.  Parts of me not touched by fear but by hysteria  were screaming at my stupidity.  My brother was nowhere around, my parents were asleep, and Sean was gone.

"I'm not going to kill you," he said, almost annoyed. "Close your mouth; you look like a fish."

I exhaled sharply and pressed my lips together.

"Wh-what do you want?" I said, attempting an indignant tone but only accomplishing frightened meekness.

"Just to talk," he said, sitting next to me.  All the muscles in my body tensed at once.

"Are you afraid?" he asked.

"W-well, duh," I sputtered.

He smiled, terrifying in his genuity.

"Could it be any more obvious?" I said, and he shrugged.

"I don't see what's so bad about fear," Donovan said quietly, and I looked at him as if he had just suggested that baby-eating was a healthy practice.

"It's a bit primitive, true, but most emotions are," he went on, looking away from me, towards the sky outside. "But it has no pretense.  Fear is unconditional, inescapable.  Even if you don't want it, it wants you.  It's with you in despair and in happiness--lurking."

I wondered briefly if I had some kind of pheromone in me that attracted deranged sociopaths.  Donovan was quiet for a few moments, ruminating before he continued his madness.

"Fear is the first thing you know when you're born and the last thing you know when you die," he turned his head to hold my eyes with his, his irises smoldering gold.  "It will never forsake you.  It's not like love and joy, those fleeting emotions.  Those emotions that are only there when they're getting something in return.  Those emotions that are gone at the slightest change of plans.  Those emotions that you all think are so fucking beautiful."

His gravel voice was rough and raw, and his eyes were so filled with insane hatred that I shivered.

"A-are you okay?" I ventured, after he had lapsed into sullen silence, possibly realizing that he was making no sense whatsoever.

"No," he said firmly. "Anything but."

He reached a hand into the feathers of his left wing, and plucked a feather off the bone.

"No doubt I'll regret this when I'm not delirious," he said, offering the feather to me.  I took it from his fingers and let it rest flat in my hands.  Its length began at my elbow and ended at my shoulder; it was pure white and soft as silk.  It seemed too innocent to have been a part of him.

"Keep it with you," he said. "On your person.  In a pocket, or something."

"Why?" I said, petting the feather gently and turning it over in my hands.

"Why?" he snapped. "Why must you always know why? Accept it, and you'll know the reason when you need it."

"Oh..." I said, not wanting to aggravate him further.  He stood.

"Where's the homeless Neanderthal?" he said. "Any reason why you haven't yelled for him yet?"

"He's not here," I answered, wincing slightly as he smiled again.

"Really," Donovan murmured, tapping his chin with his claw. "But... I've already stayed too long."

He kneeled before my window and crawled out of it, speading his wings as he let himself drop.  He hovered in front of the trees, beating his wings against the air and making the leaves rustle.

"Don't lose my feather," he said. "Or I'll kill you."

I swallowed.

"G-got it."

"And don't tell him I was here," he added, and he turned, flying away before I could answer. "Or I'll kill him."

Shaken, I pulled down my window and shut the blinds. I wrapped myself in my blankets, playing with Donovan's feather until my nerves had calmed.  I thought about his speech.  Was it just a random burst of madness?  Why did he mention joy and love specifically?

I held the feather against my chest, trying to grasp at what could have caused the intense hatred in his eyes and in his words.  I stayed up for hours after he left, wondering what it was.

So many loose ends I have created. :3 :3 Do you like? Or just post.