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Authors: Erin M. Leaf
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asked,
interrupting his friend.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She thought of her
grandmother, how the old woman had always hinted about her first love. She’d
sworn he was an angel, though no one believed her. Charmeine always thought her
grandmother meant he was just a really good person. She didn’t think her
grandma meant it literally. “Maybe. My grandmother had an affair with someone
before she married my grandpa. She said he died, in some war, but the timing
was always strange.”
Jeremiel and Haniel exchanged glances.
“Valoel,” Haniel murmured.
She sucked in a breath. “How do you know that name?”
“You recognize it?” Jeremiel asked.
Instead of answering, she climbed off the bed and grabbed a small
picture frame from her dresser. She brought it over and sat down, showing them
the photo of her grandmother when she was young. “This is my grandmother. She
was nineteen when this was taken.” She flipped it over and pried open the back.
Another photo slipped out, grainy and faded. “This is the man she claimed was
my real grandfather. Valoel.” She picked it up and showed them. “She swore he
was an angel. I thought she said that because he died before they could be
married. That he was a good man.”
“That’s Valoel,” Haniel said, taking the picture from her. “I
recognize him from the archives.”
“Archives?” Charmeine took the photo back and tucked it in its
place. Her hand shook. How could she be an angel? Even if Valoel was her true
grandfather, all the rest of her forebears were human.
“Castle Archangel is the seat of our people. There are books there
and some of them have photos of the angels from the early twentieth century.
Valoel was one of our explorers. He went missing decades ago.” Jeremiel’s voice
was soft. “We thought he faded, like so many others.”
She frowned. “You keep saying that. What exactly do you mean by
faded?”
Haniel’s shoulders went tense. “A lot of us commit suicide by
giving up. It’s easy to just fly off, then let go. Our bodies fade into mist
and God takes us back.” He shook his head harshly. “I think it’s cowardly. We
need our people to be strong, now more than ever.”
She bit her lip, afraid of what he meant. “Demons?” she asked in a
small voice, thinking about how she’d felt something watching her now and again
the past several months.
Jeremiel nodded. “Yeah.”
She shook her head, not wanting to go down that road. “None of
this makes me an angel. I can’t fly. The whole idea is crazy.”
“But you have legacy marks now.” Haniel traced his hand over her
arm. “Only angels have these marks.”
She shivered. “I don’t understand how that happened. And I
certainly don’t know how to shift.”
“There’s precedent. Our blade master’s mate was half-human,
half-angel. Nathaniel was born with legacy marks, but couldn’t fly.” Jeremiel
paused. “When he bonded to his mate, he gained the ability to shift into
angelic form.”
She stared at him. He was serious? “What do you mean by mate ?”
“Some of our people have true mates, bonded lovers chosen by God,”
Haniel explained.
“Wait, no.” She stood up and started pacing the room nude, then
put the photo back on her dresser. Her grandmother stared up at her from the
picture, smiling serenely. Charmeine felt anything but. “You’re saying we
mated?” She grabbed a pair of her sweatpants and pulled them on, then shrugged
into a t-shirt. She didn’t feel comfortable being naked right now.
Jeremiel stood too, his wings taking up most of the space in the
room. She stared at him, mesmerized despite her misgivings. He was so
beautiful. The feathers were all different colors: grey, black, white, blue,
even dusky pink on some of the edges. “I think we may be bonding, yes,” he
said. He, too, put on his shorts. He picked up Haniel’s and threw them on the
bed.
So much for the afterglow, she thought sadly. She would’ve liked to
interrupting his friend.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She thought of her
grandmother, how the old woman had always hinted about her first love. She’d
sworn he was an angel, though no one believed her. Charmeine always thought her
grandmother meant he was just a really good person. She didn’t think her
grandma meant it literally. “Maybe. My grandmother had an affair with someone
before she married my grandpa. She said he died, in some war, but the timing
was always strange.”
Jeremiel and Haniel exchanged glances.
“Valoel,” Haniel murmured.
She sucked in a breath. “How do you know that name?”
“You recognize it?” Jeremiel asked.
Instead of answering, she climbed off the bed and grabbed a small
picture frame from her dresser. She brought it over and sat down, showing them
the photo of her grandmother when she was young. “This is my grandmother. She
was nineteen when this was taken.” She flipped it over and pried open the back.
Another photo slipped out, grainy and faded. “This is the man she claimed was
my real grandfather. Valoel.” She picked it up and showed them. “She swore he
was an angel. I thought she said that because he died before they could be
married. That he was a good man.”
“That’s Valoel,” Haniel said, taking the picture from her. “I
recognize him from the archives.”
“Archives?” Charmeine took the photo back and tucked it in its
place. Her hand shook. How could she be an angel? Even if Valoel was her true
grandfather, all the rest of her forebears were human.
“Castle Archangel is the seat of our people. There are books there
and some of them have photos of the angels from the early twentieth century.
Valoel was one of our explorers. He went missing decades ago.” Jeremiel’s voice
was soft. “We thought he faded, like so many others.”
She frowned. “You keep saying that. What exactly do you mean by
faded?”
Haniel’s shoulders went tense. “A lot of us commit suicide by
giving up. It’s easy to just fly off, then let go. Our bodies fade into mist
and God takes us back.” He shook his head harshly. “I think it’s cowardly. We
need our people to be strong, now more than ever.”
She bit her lip, afraid of what he meant. “Demons?” she asked in a
small voice, thinking about how she’d felt something watching her now and again
the past several months.
Jeremiel nodded. “Yeah.”
She shook her head, not wanting to go down that road. “None of
this makes me an angel. I can’t fly. The whole idea is crazy.”
“But you have legacy marks now.” Haniel traced his hand over her
arm. “Only angels have these marks.”
She shivered. “I don’t understand how that happened. And I
certainly don’t know how to shift.”
“There’s precedent. Our blade master’s mate was half-human,
half-angel. Nathaniel was born with legacy marks, but couldn’t fly.” Jeremiel
paused. “When he bonded to his mate, he gained the ability to shift into
angelic form.”
She stared at him. He was serious? “What do you mean by mate ?”
“Some of our people have true mates, bonded lovers chosen by God,”
Haniel explained.
“Wait, no.” She stood up and started pacing the room nude, then
put the photo back on her dresser. Her grandmother stared up at her from the
picture, smiling serenely. Charmeine felt anything but. “You’re saying we
mated?” She grabbed a pair of her sweatpants and pulled them on, then shrugged
into a t-shirt. She didn’t feel comfortable being naked right now.
Jeremiel stood too, his wings taking up most of the space in the
room. She stared at him, mesmerized despite her misgivings. He was so
beautiful. The feathers were all different colors: grey, black, white, blue,
even dusky pink on some of the edges. “I think we may be bonding, yes,” he
said. He, too, put on his shorts. He picked up Haniel’s and threw them on the
bed.
So much for the afterglow, she thought sadly. She would’ve liked to
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